The Blossoming Of Our BDSM Relationship.

Tag: stockings

Wednesday, October 9th, 2013

Dressing In Black

Wearing my black push-up bra, I stood with my back to Him, holding my long dark hair out of the way and grunting as He mercilessly tightened the back of the wide black waist cincher He’d instructed me to put on.

When satisfied the cincher was tight enough, He gestured for me to sit on the bed. It was time for the stockings.

I rolled one of the sheer black stockings down, then slid it on over the pointed toes of my left foot. I gently unrolled the stocking until it reached the upper half of my thigh. Then I repeated the same for my right leg. I stood up, and expertly attached the garters.

“Wear that tight black dress; the short one,” He commanded.

I pulled it on over my head & stood before Him.

“That’s not the right bra,” He said.

“It’s the black push-up bra I always wear with this dress,” I said, defensively.

“Where’s the other one?”

“I can’t wear that one with this dress!” I sputtered. “Not in public! My breasts barely stay in the bra!”

“That’s the point.”

“But, Blackie, no — I mean my areaolas can be seen if I’m not paranoid about checking them every five seconds!”

“Don’t you worry about that. I’ll keep an eye on those for you.”

I swallowed hard.

“Put. It. On.” He growled.

I scampered to my lingerie drawer, pulled out the other black bra. I slid the tight black dress off, removed the other bra, and put on the bra He wanted. I pulled the dress back on again and turned to face him. “See?” I said. “It’s ridiculous!”

“I see,” He said as he calmly strode towards me.

But that calm was all about His control; not my peril. Once he reached me, He slapped my face. Hard. “What is ridiculous is you challenging me. This,” He said, gesturing towards my chest, “is exactly what I want.”

He paused while I rubbed my sore cheek, then spoke. “I trust that’s the last reminder you need. Otherwise, your makeup won’t cover My rage.”

I nodded eagerly.

“I’m sorry,” I said. Then screwed up the courage to say, “But I though we were going to dinner — just the two of us…”

“We are,” He said. “But I want you to look ravishing. Now paint your face. All dark around the eyes — those line you make, like a cat. Your hair will be sleek, pulled back, with your ponytail up high.”

Now it was His turn to sit on the bed as I skedaddled off to the vanity and created what He wanted.

After inspecting my makeup and hair, He swung me around by the ponytail and shoved me forward. “Those shoes,” He said pointing to the black heels I could barely walk in without causing my skirt to inch above the tops of my stockings. I should have known. I slipped each foot into their high patent perches and stood, holding my breath.

He gestured for me to come to Him.

As I slowly waked towards Him, I could feel the roll of my hips pushing the tight fabric of the skirt up. My hands fluttered to my sides to tug the skirt back in place — but I stopped when I saw the look on His face. My hands fluttered back down to my sides as I finished the last two steps to stand before Him.

He looked me up & down, His eyes lingering at the near white of my exposed skin — the large swells of my breasts perched above and nearly over scooped the neckline of the dress; the bright expanse of flesh between the black of my skirt’s hem and the less dark, but more shiny, black welt of my stockings… “Turn,” He said. And I did.

I shivered when He ran his finger along the exposed flesh of the back of my thigh. It wasn’t just His touch that made me shiver; it was the knowledge that, given where He stroked, I had about an inch and a half before my bare bottom would be exposed. “Blackie…” I began. He replied, “No, this is just fine.” I recognized that tone, so I said nothing.

“Ah, jewelry…” He said. “The big silver hoops, I think. And that’s all.”

I walked towards the vanity to retrieve the earrings, anxiously paying attention to how the dress moved. It had seemed to have settled itself and no more flesh was becoming exposed. For now. As I tilted my head to the side to insert the first earring, I watched Blackie adjust his pink tie in the mirror. I put in the other earring and walked over to join him.

“This is just us tonight, right?” I asked him again. That was my way of verifying that tonight was about us — no one would join us, we weren’t going to some BDSM club or something.

He smiled and grabbed my hand. “Yes, just you and I going to dinner, love.”

[To Be Continued]

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Thursday, May 16th, 2013

The Sweet Agony Of Anticipation

I wrote a little something, based on an image, here. I hope you like it!

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Monday, February 18th, 2013

Pink & Black Garters

From CREEPYYEHA.

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Wednesday, October 24th, 2012

Milk Maid On Your Doorstep

In pink and black lingerie no less! Holly Peers; via.

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Monday, November 21st, 2011

Pink & Black Lingerie Shopping Spree

A Slip Of A Girl, has a holiday contest where she’s giving away a $100 shopping spree at the Lovely Lingerie Company! Of course I’m partial to the pink and black Casmir and Court Shoe — and I’d make up the balance of my shopping spree with black stockings. A girl can always replenish her stash of black stockings. *wink*

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Wednesday, November 16th, 2011

Bondage Tights

I was over at A Slip Of A Girl (adding things to my holiday list) where I spotted these Bondage Tights from Wolford. The conversation there, and at Klaudia’s blog, centers around the heavy weight of the tights versus the lighter-weight thigh-high version by Oroblu. My first thought was then to “wish” for the stockings, but then Blackie, who normally prefers stockings, interceded, saying, “I think the heavy weight of the tights would be far more fun to test with the crop.” So, I think there might just be a pair of the Wolford Bondage Tights under my tree this year *wink*

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Sunday, November 13th, 2011

The Punishment For A Typo

I found this photo of Jasmine Sinclair (along with others) in this post at S & M = Smoke & Mirrors and shuddered recalling the time I was to type up a report for Marc and made a typo…

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Saturday, November 12th, 2011

Waiting To Be Ravished

Michelle at Vintage Flash sure the hell inspires… From the look on her face, she knows it won’t be easy or over quickly. But nothing worthwhile is. And when you look like that, well, you’re asking for it — right, Pinkie?

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Wednesday, July 27th, 2011

Wanna Spoon?

Untitled (Surreal Chastity Belt) by Hermann F

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Monday, May 23rd, 2011

Protected: I’d Rather Have 100 Lashes

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  • Pinkie and Blackie…
    The colors of our love... Not just our shopping, but the colors that I as a pain slut prefer to wear...


    I am not called Pinkie because my coloring is naturally pink -- but I am naturally a pain slut, and love to be made pink from spankings & other physical abuse. Blackie likes to push those limits, give punishments which leave marks, welts, and, sometimes, cuts... Blackie also thrills to make me flush pink with shame, humiliation and arousal.


    He was called Blackie long before I met him.

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    Phone Sex With Submissive Pinkie


    Call: 1-800-TO-FLIRT Ext. 03525663
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