Hair pulling always brings out the kid in me. Normally when I’m hit, bitten or scratched I relax into it. I never feel the need to retaliate. But something about hair pulling makes me itch to fight back. I’m sure there’s some deeply buried reason for this that stems from playground fights as young child. I’d like to say it’s down to a cute but feisty young girl who used to pull my hair and tease me as a child, sending me down the path of femdom from an early age. Unfortunately she was only a figment of my childhood imagination.
The bondage around his wrists looks fairly hopeless in this shot, but I do like the red marks on his thigh. That crop she’s holding clearly isn’t just for domm-ey decoration.