@thatsmilinggirl26 - Tumblr Blog

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Just a woman trying to figure out this thing called life while being true to herself and her needs. The last year taught me a lot about myself, my limits and what I will or will not accept. The last 6 months has been about Learning to trust myself and not need so much of others.

Some stuff here will be fiction, some true, some fantasy and some a mix of all.

I tend to side toward D/s dynamics but re-evaluating that as well.

Loving this journey I am on and not looking to meet anyone

The cold grip of Sir’s hand around her wrist was the first command, even before a word left his lips. Princess felt the remote slide into his pocket, a hard rectangle against his thigh, and her entire body tensed in anticipation. They stood at the glass doors of the mall, the Saturday crowd surging past them, oblivious. She was in her tight black skirt that barely reached mid-thigh, a white blouse that hugged her small breasts, and heels that made her calves ache. Sir’s eyes, gray and unwavering, scanned her from head to toe.

“You know what happens if you fail, Princess.” His voice was low, calm, the kind of calm that made her knees weak. She nodded, her throat dry. Failure meant the cane, the corner, the loss of his approval—the worst punishment of all.

He didn’t wait. His thumb pressed the button on the remote.

The vibrator inside her hummed to life, a sudden, shocking buzz against her most sensitive flesh. Princess gasped, her hand flying to her chest. Her pussy clenched around the silicone intrusion, a reflexive grip that made her hips twitch. The sensation was immediate, electric, spreading through her core. She bit her lower lip, hard, trying to suppress the moan that wanted to escape.

“Walk,” Sir commanded, releasing her wrist. “To the perfume counter. You will buy a scent that pleases me. You have five minutes. And Princess…” He leaned in close, his breath warm on her ear. “I will be watching. Failure is not an option.”

She couldn’t look at him. If she did, she’d see the cold amusement in his eyes, and she’d break. Instead, she turned and started walking, her heels clicking on the polished floor. The vibrator pulsed steadily, a low thrum that seemed to match the beat of her heart. With every step, the device shifted inside her, rubbing against her walls, her clit. Her thighs brushed together, trying to clamp down, but she forced them apart, kept her gait smooth. She had to look normal.

The perfume counter was a thirty-second walk away, but it felt like miles. She passed a group of teenagers, a mother with a stroller, a couple holding hands. None of them knew that her pussy was on fire, that her panties were already soaked, that a man she called Sir controlled every tremor of her body through a small black remote in his pocket.

She reached the glass cases, the air thick with competing floral and musk scents. A saleswoman approached, smiling. “Can I help you find something?”

Princess opened her mouth, but the vibrator suddenly jumped to a higher setting. A sharp, pulsing rhythm drilled into her. Her legs buckled; she gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles white. “I… I need a perfume,” she managed, her voice strained. “For… my boyfriend. He likes something… bold.”

The saleswoman nodded, turning to a shelf. Princess could barely hear her. All she could feel was the relentless buzz, the way it made her clit ache, the wetness that was surely leaking through her panties, staining her skirt. She imagined Sir watching her from somewhere in the crowd, his thumb adjusting the dial, his face expressionless.

“This one is very popular,” the saleswoman said, holding out a sleek bottle. “Notes of amber and leather.”

Princess took it, her hand shaking. She sprayed a little on her wrist, brought it to her nose. The scent was heavy, dark—Sir’s scent. It made her pussy clench even harder. “Yes,” she whispered. “This one.”

As she fumbled for her wallet, the vibrator surged again, even stronger. A low moan escaped her lips, and she turned it into a cough. Her face was flushed, her skin hot. The saleswoman gave her a curious look but said nothing. Princess paid, her fingers clumsy, and clutched the bag like a lifeline.

She turned away, her legs trembling so badly she thought she might fall. Every step sent a new wave of pleasure-pain through her core. She could feel her orgasm building, a tight coil in her belly, but she didn’t dare let go. That would be failure. She had to complete the task.

Sir was waiting near the entrance, leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed. His eyes tracked her approach, and as she drew near, he tilted his head, the smallest hint of approval. He reached out, took the bag, and pulled out the bottle.

“Good,” he said, and the word sent a shiver down her spine. He pocketed the perfume and his hand found the remote again.

“Now, Princess, next task. The lingerie store. You will try on something red and send me a picture. You have ten minutes.”

He turned the vibrator up one more notch.

Her breath caught. Her entire body throbbed. She nodded, unable to speak, and turned toward the escalator. Her steps were unsteady, her pussy clenching and releasing in a desperate rhythm. She knew he was watching, knew that every shudder, every flush, was his to command.

And she wanted nothing more than to obey.

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Princess is mid-lunge, body warm from the last twenty minutes of her routine. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t break form, even when she feels his presence like a physical weight behind her.

“Stop.”

The command is low, absolute. She freezes, arms still extended, breath catching in her throat. She doesn’t turn around, but she feels his gaze on her.

“Strip,” he says. “Every stitch. Now.”

Her fingers tremble as she reaches for the hem of her tank. She peels it off slowly, then her shorts, sports bra, panties. She stands naked, nipples hardening, skin prickling under his hungry gaze.

“Good girl. On your knees.”

She sinks down without hesitation, the familiar burn of submission settling into her bones. The floor is cold against her shins, the wood grain rough against her bare thighs. He steps closer, and she hears the metallic click of the clamps being opened.

“You’ve been neglecting these,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing her left nipple. The touch is light, almost teasing, and then he clamps down. The sharp pinch makes her gasp, her back arching involuntarily. He works the second clamp onto her right nipple, adjusting the screw until she whimpers, the pressure just shy of pain.

“Perfect,” he says, his voice a dark caress. “Now, maintain your stretch. Deep lunge, hold it.”

She obeys, sliding her right leg forward, bending her knee until her thigh is parallel to the floor. The movement pulls at her chest, the clamps tugging with every breath. She hears the low hum of a vibrator being turned on, and her pussy clenches in anticipation.

“Open,” he commands, and she spreads her knees wider, presenting herself to him. He doesn’t touch her cunt. Instead, he circles behind her, and she feels the cold silicone of the vibrating plug pressing against her asshole.

“You’re going to take this, Princess. All the way. And you’re going to finish your workout.”

He presses, and she forces herself to relax, to breathe through the pressure of the plug stretching her. The vibrations kick in, a deep, insistent thrumming that sends shockwaves through her pelvis. She moans, her elbows wobbling as she tries to maintain the lunge.

“Count,” he says.

“One… two…” Her voice is breathy, broken. The plug is deep inside her now, pulsing against her g-spot, a constant, buzzing pressure that makes her clit throb without any direct touch.

“Three…”

He moves to the front, his hand cupping her chin, forcing her to look up at him. His eyes are dark, commanding. “You will not come. Not until I say. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispers, the words thick with need.

“Good. Now, transition to a forward fold.”

She uncurls slowly, bending at the hips, her hands reaching for the floor. The plug shifts inside her, hitting deeper, and she whimpers. The clamps pull on her nipples, metal biting into sensitive flesh. She holds the pose, body trembling.

He watches, pacing around her like a predator. “You’re so obedient like this. So desperate. Tell me what you need.”

“I need… I need to come, Sir,” she chokes out, her voice ragged.

“Not yet. You’ll take a larger toy first. You’ll earn it.”

He steps away, and she hears him unscrew a cap, the sound of lube being squeezed. She keeps her head down, calves burning, pussy dripping onto the floor. The anticipation is a knife edge, slicing through her control.

“Stay in the fold,” he says, and she feels the tip of a thicker dildo pressing against her wet lips. He doesn’t insert it, just teases, rubbing the head along her slit, slicking it with her own moisture.

“This is what’s coming for you, Princess. A punishment. A reward. You’ll take it all, won’t you?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whimpers, her hips twitching, desperate for more.

He pulls the toy away, leaving her empty, aching, the plug still buzzing inside her. “Your workout isn’t finished. Ten more minutes of stretching. Then we’ll see how much you can take.”

She nods, her body a vessel of obedience, every nerve ending alive with the promise of what’s to come.

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scarletbottoms

The buzz of her phone against the polished oak desk sent a jolt straight through Princess’s cunt. She snatched it up, heart hammering, breath already shallow. The message from Sir glowed on the screen: *“Vibrator. Under the desk. Now. Do not make me repeat myself.”*

Her fingers trembled as she slid open the bottom drawer, retrieving the sleek silicone bullet. Her black lace panties were already damp from the morning’s tension—Sir’s first task had been to edge herself twice before logging into the morning meeting. She’d obeyed, biting down on her knuckle to keep from moaning into the headset.

Now she lifted her hips just enough to shove the soaked fabric aside, pressing the cool toy against her clit. The first pulse of vibration made her gasp; she clamped her thighs together, trapping it there. Her other hand flew to the keyboard, pretending to type, but all she could feel was the relentless buzz spreading heat through her belly.

She bit her lip hard, tasting copper. Her fingers grew slick as she adjusted the angle, driving the tip deeper against that aching bundle of nerves. A soft mew escaped her throat. She knew Sir could see her—the laptop’s camera was always on, a red eye staring from the corner of her screen.

“Good girl,” the text appeared a moment later. “Now stand up. Strip your blouse and skirt. Use the binder clips from your desk drawer to bind your wrists behind your back.”

Princess’s pussy throbbed at the command. She rose on shaky legs, pulling the silk blouse over her head, letting it fall to the floor. The skirt followed, pooling around her ankles. In her black lace bra and panties, she felt exposed—yet utterly owned. She found the binder clips, two black metal clasps, and fumbled to clip one around each wrist, linking them together behind her spine. The pinch of the clips against her skin sent a shiver of pleasure-pain through her arms.

She turned to face the camera, breasts pushed forward, the vibrator still humming between her thighs where she’d wedged it. Her eyes were glazed, lips parted.

“Slow,” Sir’s voice came through the phone’s speaker, low and dangerous. “You took too long. That disobedience will cost you.”

A whimper caught in her throat. “I’m sorry, Sir. Please—”

“Quiet. You’ll take your punishment when I decide. For now, keep the vibrator on. I want to hear you moan when I tell you to. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she breathed.

The phone buzzed with a new command: *“Lift your hips. Push the vibrator inside your cunt. All the way.”*

She obeyed, arching her back, spreading her legs wide enough to slide the bullet past her slick folds, deep into her core. The fullness made her gasp; the vibration echoed through her entire pelvis. Her knees buckled; she had to brace against the desk.

On the screen, she could see Sir’s dark eyes watching, unblinking. His voice came again, cold and precise. “You will edge yourself for the next five minutes. Do not come. If you do, I will drive to your apartment and cane your ass raw. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” she gasped, fingers digging into the desk edge. The vibrator pulsed inside her, each wave threatening to push her over. She clenched her thighs, fighting the urge to grind against the chair. Sweat beaded on her forehead; her breath came in ragged sobs.

“Three minutes left,” Sir said. “You’re doing so well. But I know you’re close.”

She was. Her entire body trembled on the brink, a coiled spring ready to snap. The thought of failure—of his cane, his cold disappointment—kept her teetering, denied.

“One minute. Hold it.”

She whimpered, tears pricking her eyes. The vibrator seemed to grow louder, more insistent. Her cunt clenched around it, begging for release.

“Time,” Sir said. “Pull it out. Now.”

With a sob, she yanked the toy from her body, the sudden emptiness a cruel ache. She collapsed onto the chair, trembling, coated in sweat and arousal.

Sir’s voice was a low growl. “You’ve earned a reprieve. But your next task comes in fifteen minutes. Do not disappoint me again.”

Princess could only nod, thighs still quivering, the clips digging into her wrists as she waited, shivering, for his next command.

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The door to the bedroom swung open without warning, and Princess’s hand froze between her legs. She was sprawled on the bed, laptop still open, her skirt bunched around her hips, fingers glistening. Sir stood in the doorway, keys still in hand, his expression flat and cold.

“I thought I heard you,” he said, stepping inside and letting the door click shut behind him. “What are you doing?”

She scrambled to sit up, her face burning. “Sir, I—I’m sorry. I was just—I couldn’t sleep.”

He walked to the edge of the bed, looking down at her. “You were touching yourself. Without my permission. After we discussed the rules last week.”

She swallowed, her voice small. “Yes, Sir. I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” he said, his tone even, controlled. “You know what happens when you break a rule.”

She nodded, already sliding off the bed and onto her knees on the carpet. “Yes, Sir. I beg for punishment. Please, correct me.”

He studied her for a long moment, then gestured to the armchair in the corner. “Stand and strip to the waist. Then bend over the arm of that chair.”

Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned her blouse, letting it fall to the floor. She crossed to the armchair, positioning herself over its padded arm, her bare breasts pressed against the fabric. She heard him step closer, felt his presence behind her.

“You will count each stroke,” he commanded. “And thank me.”

The first slap landed on her right cheek, sharp and sudden. She gasped, “One. Thank you, Sir.”

Again, on the left, harder. “Two. Thank you, Sir.”

He didn’t pause. Each impact sent fire across her skin, her ass burning and reddening under his palm. By the tenth stroke, tears pricked her eyes, but she kept her voice steady. “Ten. Thank you, Sir.”

He stopped. “Stand. Face me.”

She obeyed, her cheeks flushed, her body aching. He reached out and grasped her chin, tilting her face up. “Your punishment is not over. You will be edged—painfully, repeatedly—until you understand that your pleasure belongs to me.”

He guided her to the edge of the bed, ordering her to lie on her back, legs spread. He knelt between them, his fingers tracing her inner thigh. “You will not come without my permission. If you do, the spanking begins again.”

His fingers found her wetness, teasing her clit with maddening precision. She bucked, moaning, but he pulled away just before the peak. “No,” he growled. “Not yet.”

Again and again, he brought her to the brink, then stopped. Her hips writhed, her breath came in ragged sobs. “Please, Sir, please let me—”

“You will beg properly,” he said, his voice a cruel caress.

“Please, Sir, I beg you, let me come. I’ll be good. I’ll never disobey.”

He released her, his hand leaving her wet and aching. “Get on your knees. Service me.”

She scrambled to the floor, her mouth watering. He stood before her, his trousers already undone, his cock hard and thick. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the tip before taking him into her mouth.

She licked along the shaft, swirling her tongue around the head, tasting the salt of his arousal. He groaned, his hand fisting in her hair. “That’s it. Take me deeper.”

She obeyed, letting him fuck her mouth, her throat relaxing as she fought her gag reflex. She wanted to please him, needed to prove her submission. Her own need throbbed between her legs, but she ignored it, focusing on his pleasure.

“Suck harder,” he commanded. “Use your tongue.”

She doubled her efforts, hollowing her cheeks, taking him to the base. He held her there, his breath ragged, then pulled out. “Look at me when you swallow.”

She met his eyes as he spilled his cum onto her tongue, hot and thick. She swallowed, her throat working, never breaking eye contact.

He released her hair, stepping back. “That’s better. But you’re still not forgiven. There will be more tonight.”

She stayed on her knees, trembling, knowing he was right. The night was far from over.

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whinysushi

Force me to be your entertainment.

Watch me ride a dildo instead of turning on the tv while you're eating dinner, facetime me and tell me to play with my holes while you're waiting for the bus, make me send nudes when you're bored at work. Condition me to entertain you with my body whenever you need it.

Princess knelt on the carpet in front of Sir, her knees already sore from the position he had ordered. Her ass still burned in long, raised welts from the belt he had laid across it minutes earlier. The taste of soap coated her tongue and throat, making every swallow difficult. She kept her hands folded behind her back exactly as instructed.

Sir sat back in the chair, legs spread, watching her with calm authority. "You disrespected me on that call," he said evenly. "Now show me you understand why that was wrong."

Princess leaned forward without hesitation. She opened her mouth and took his cock between her lips, sliding down until the head pressed against the back of her throat. The soap residue mixed with the taste of his skin as she began to move. She sucked firmly, hollowing her cheeks, working her tongue along the underside with each stroke.

She took him deeper on the next descent, letting the head push past her gag reflex until her nose nearly touched his stomach. Saliva ran down her chin. She pulled back only to plunge forward again, throat working around him, gagging softly but never stopping. Her eyes stayed on his, wet and obedient.

Sir rested one hand on the top of her head, guiding her pace. "Slower on the way down. Hold it there." Princess obeyed, holding his cock in her throat for several long seconds before he allowed her to rise for air. She gasped once, then sank back down, sucking harder, her lips tight around the shaft.

She continued the rhythm he set—deep, controlled, wet—thanking him with every motion of her mouth and throat. Her punished ass remained raised behind her, the belt marks vivid against her skin. She kept going, focused only on giving him the gratitude he demanded.

Princess kept her rhythm steady, sinking down until her lips pressed against the base of his cock, throat clenching around the head. She held there as long as he allowed before pulling back, strings of saliva stretching from her lower lip to his shaft. Her jaw ached but she didn't slow. Each descent grew wetter, her tongue pressing flat along the underside as she sucked with steady pressure.

Sir's hand stayed on her head, fingers tightening when she took him especially deep. "That's it. Keep your hands behind you." Princess obeyed without pause, wrists crossed at the small of her back while her mouth worked. The soap taste still lingered, mixing with the salt of his skin and the growing slickness of her own spit.

She varied the pace only when he guided her—sometimes slow and deliberate, holding him in her throat until her eyes watered, other times faster, bobbing with wet sounds filling the quiet room. Her ass remained raised, the belt welts throbbing with every shift of her knees. She focused on the weight of him on her tongue, the way his cock twitched when she swallowed around it.

Sir's breathing changed. His thighs tensed under her. "Deeper. Don't stop until I tell you." Princess pushed forward again, taking him to the root, nose brushing his stomach. She stayed there, throat working, gagging softly but holding position. Saliva dripped from her chin onto the carpet between his feet.

He groaned once, low and controlled. His hand pressed her down harder. Princess felt the first pulse against her tongue, then the rush of cum filling her throat. She swallowed around him, milking every spurt with tight, rhythmic contractions of her throat. He held her there through the last throbs, cock pulsing until he finished.

Only when he eased his grip did she pull back slowly, lips sliding along the length until the head slipped free. She stayed kneeling, mouth open, showing him the last traces before swallowing again. Her breathing came ragged, but her posture remained exactly as he'd ordered.

Sir kept her in place a moment longer, his cock softening between her lips. Princess held still, breathing through her nose, waiting for his next command. When he finally released her hair she eased back, a thin strand of saliva and cum stretching from her lower lip to the head of his shaft before it broke.

"Swallow," he said quietly. She obeyed at once, throat working until nothing remained. Her tongue swept across her lips, cleaning the last traces while she kept her hands clasped behind her back.

Sir leaned forward, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. "Good girl," he murmured. "You took your punishment well and thanked me properly." He stroked her cheek once more. "That's my good girl."

Princess stayed kneeling, knees aching against the carpet, ass still burning from the belt. She kept her eyes lowered, breathing steady, waiting for whatever came next. Sir's hand remained on her head, fingers moving slowly through her hair in a steady rhythm that told her she had pleased him.

"Good girl," he repeated, softer this time. "Stay right there until I tell you to move."

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Princess had been waiting for Sir for nearly an hour.

He had given her very specific instructions after their phone call.

Be waiting for me. No excuses. No attitude.

So she waited exactly where she had been told, kneeling with her hands resting on her thighs. His belt lay on the table in front of her. Beside it sat a fresh bar of soap.

Every time she looked at them, she heard his voice again.

“We’ll deal with that mouth when I get home, Princess.”

She had been rude. Worse, she had known exactly what she was doing when she spoke to him that way. She had pushed, challenged, and tested him while he was at work.

Now she had nothing to do but wait for the consequences she had agreed to.

The sound of his key in the lock made her straighten immediately.

Sir stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

His eyes found her at once.

“Did I tell you to look at me?”

Her gaze dropped.

“No, Sir.”

“Then don’t.”

He removed his coat slowly, deliberately, making her wait while he put everything away. He was in no hurry.

Finally, his footsteps stopped in front of her.

“Stand.”

Princess obeyed.

“Tell me why you’re waiting.”

“Because I was rude to you on the phone, Sir.”

“Try again.”

She swallowed.

“Because I deliberately disrespected you and tested you when I knew better, Sir.”

“That’s better.”

He picked up the belt.

“Do you remember what I told you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Say it.”

Her voice was quieter now.

“You said we would deal with my behavior when you got home.”

Sir folded the belt in his hand.

“And here I am.”

Princess lowered her head.

“Yes, Sir.”

He stepped closer.

“Your safeword?”

She answered immediately.

He nodded once.

“Good. Then get in position.”

She obeyed without another word.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

That was the worst part.

She could hear him behind her. She could hear the faint sound of the leather moving in his hand.

“You wanted my attention, Princess.”

His voice was low and controlled.

“Now you have all of it.”

The first strike landed with a sharp crack that broke the silence.

Princess gasped.

“One,” Sir said.

She knew what he expected.

“One, Sir.”

Another followed.

“Two, Sir.”

He made her count each one. If she forgot her manners, he stopped and waited until she corrected herself.

There was no anger in him. No loss of control. That somehow made his authority feel even heavier. Every strike was deliberate, and every pause gave her time to remember exactly why she was there.

Halfway through, her composure slipped.

“Sir—”

He stopped immediately.

Princess waited.

“Did you use your safeword?”

“No, Sir.”

“Do you need to?”

She shook her head.

“No, Sir.”

“Then what do you need?”

She closed her eyes.

“To behave.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

Her voice softened.

“I need you to continue, Sir.”

“Better.”

The punishment resumed.

By the time Sir finally set the belt down, Princess was quiet. The defiance that had sharpened her voice on the phone was gone.

He gave her a moment before speaking.

“Stand up.”

She did.

“Look at me.”

This time, she was allowed.

Sir studied her face carefully.

“Are we finished?”

Princess glanced toward the table.

Toward the soap.

“No, Sir.”

“No,” he agreed. “We aren’t.”

He picked up the bar and held it where she could see it.

“What was the belt for?”

“My behavior, Sir.”

“And this?”

Princess hesitated.

Sir raised an eyebrow.

“My rude mouth, Sir.”

“Exactly.”

He brought her closer and made her meet his eyes.

“You will take your correction without arguing. If you need to stop, you know what to say. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Open.”

Princess obeyed.

The taste was immediate and unpleasant, exactly as she had known it would be. Sir kept the punishment brief but firm, watching her carefully and refusing to let her turn away from the consequence of the words she had chosen earlier.

When he finally allowed her to rinse her mouth, she did so quickly.

Then she returned to him without being told.

Sir looked down at her.

“Anything you would like to say to me now, Princess?”

She thought carefully before answering.

“I’m sorry I was disrespectful to you, Sir.”

“Are you going to speak to me that way again?”

“No, Sir.”

He tilted her chin up.

“Good.”

For the first time since he had walked through the door, his expression softened.

“Come here.”