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The Pervy Girl's Collection

Welcome to my collection of porn, advice, education, humor and occasionally a denial diary.


You can call me Livany or Liv or the Pervy Girl. I'm a middle aged and have been involved with kink for about 20 years. I am sarcastic, pansexual, switch.

My blog tends to be revolve around orgasm control, edging, denial, M/f, F/m sometimes CNC, and F/f. I do daily edging instructions for those who wish to do denial.

I love chatting with my followers. I enjoy mentoring and giving advice to both folks. Feel free to message me with questions, or just to say hello.
Click here to support me on Paetron and get access to member only pieces or request your own personalized story.

Want to make me happy ruin an orgasm for me. Or support me on Paetron.

Warning: If you chat with me, it is highly likely if you are cute, sexy, funny, intelligent or interesting a version of our conversation may end up on my blog. Names are always changed. If you really don't want this make sure to tell me. Otherwise I'll consider our conversations fair game. If you are not those things, then our conversation is fair game, and I won't be hiding your name. If you don't realize this is real you are going to be in for a /real/ shock when you message me. (First post: 7 Nov 2019)

It is time to Celebrate!

TPGC has reached 5000 followers and I am going to spend the next week celebrating.


First, I will be reblogging posts that have significant meaning to me. I'll also post a little blurb about why I picked them.

Second, I am offering a celebration 5 dollar tier in my Patreon. I post Patreon only stories weekly as well as expanded stories from my post here. Plus you get to show me some love.

Third, I am doing a ruin/denial challenge with @beautifuldenial I have a 16-day head start. They have to last as long as I do + 17 days to win. The rules are simple: Don't cum. You can ruin and edge as much as you like.  Edge a few times a day or ruin or both.

We want to do a friendly wage and are looking for ideas on what we should bet. Feel free to give us suggestions. 

Four, I am going to be continuing to give edging/denial instructions for the rest of the summer. 


Thank you all for following!

I feel very lucky to have amazingly supportive followers. I feel like we have built a great community here and I enjoy watching it grow and seeing new voices added.

Fondly,

Liv



Today's Instructions: July 7th

Denial requires discipline but it also is a reward. 

Taking care of yourself should be reward with edges. 

Do the items above as they apply to you.

Take a shower.

Change your sheets.

You may edge each time you complete one of these task.

You may ruin if you have no dirt dishes in your house.

You may ruin if you do one full cycle of landry.

You may ruin if you sweep and/or vacuum your living room.

That means you may ruin up to three times.

Love yourself. 

 Reward yourself. 

Just no cumming.

Fondly,

Liv


Houston, we have a problem

See this picture?

Well, some time ago someone posted it. No idea who.

Some time later one or more people, including myself, added some of their own captions to it.

A couple of days ago, I got a message from someone saying, (and I paraphrase) 

Hey, do you know you had a story about some girl with 'I want an old man to hurt me,' (or something like that). Do you know where it is, because I really, really liked it, but now I can't find it. Did you delete it or something?

I didn't remember it at first, and I definitely didn't delete it, so I went looking for it. Couldn't see anything. But then I vaguely remembered something about it. And to cut a long-ish story somewhat shorter, it turns out I shared it with someone in a private message and that picture, together with the link to the original post were still in the chat.

Except when I clicked on the link it didn't go anywhere. (AKA: "The story has ended, but the picture lingers on.") (You may have to be a 60's relic or thereabouts to recognise that reference.)

Anyway, somewhat perturbed, I sent in a support request which summarised all of the above and concluded thusly:

"BTW: I hope you're not going to say it's because the person who made the original post either left or deleted it.

... because, if so, that means it's a different model from Tumblr. (Re-blogged posts were effectively treated as clones of the original.)

... which means that people who post captions based on other people's post and spend a lot of time and effort creating those captions are going to be mighty annoyed. (And I'm being polite here.)"

and they just replied like this:

"Yes, we delete reblogs when original post is deleted. That's due to nature of the site and privacy reasons. Contrary to Tumblr we do not claim ownership of the material and what you post remains yours, therefore when you decide to delete it we delete it as the content is yours, not ours. At no point we claim the ownership of it. 

We are an adult site and it's simply said a must in such platforms as ours to do the way we do it. 

Hope that helps! "

SO... Just in case you didn't follow all the ins and outs of that. It means that any story that anyone has written based on a re-blog of someone else's post is liable to be lost at the whim of the original poster disappearing or deleting their post. 

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!



Damn i guess this gives people more reason to upload your own photos when you write captions....


God though that fucking suck ass. I am so sorry. I know I have pieces I would hate to loss. I have some backed up but not everything. I tend to write in the moment frequently.

I guess I will modify how I do things.



Anonymous asked:

You should look into Auntiewanda’s tumblr if you want some good feminist resources! 😊

I took this in good faith, but now I'm slightly confused. I only had a quick flick through, but it seems like this auntiewanda character might be one of those TERF people that I've heard about, unless I'm missing something. Not really my jam, if I'm honest. Apologies if I've got the wrong end of the stick, but I saw enough to put me off scrolling any further.


 I don't pretend to know nearly as much about trans rights as I probably should, but my general philosophy in relation to how other people want to define themselves can be summarised as 'you do you.' I don't really care what bits someone has, because it doesn't affect me or anyone else - I'll call them whatever they want me to call them, because that's just basic manners. And while we're at it we can just make all of the public loos unisex so that the whole 'people not wanting trans women to use female toilets' issue stops being a thing. 

"Again," he commanded. She whimpered in response, her slippery fingers aching from rubbing her sore clit.

"Please," she gasped. Tears slipped from her eyes. 

"You begged me to cum. So cum."

He stated it so simply. Coldly. 

She sobbed softly, her belly cramping as her fingers worked her towards another orgasm. Her arm was cramping and he stood, walking to her slowly. 

"One more then immediately hold open your legs. I told you, you beg to be edged. That's it. Not to cum. Don't worry, you won't forget after I'm done spanking your pussy."

Those Two Denial Mistakes

You began it as an idle game. You had read something about denial on the internet and the idea took root in the fertile soil of your lusty little mind. Something about relinquishing control, or being controlled.

So you decided you wanted to try it. You considered sitting me down and explaining it. Direct, honest communication. Perhaps even showing me some of those websites you’d stumbled across and kept going back to, helplessly, to gaze at the expressions on their faces, to re-read those stories of the frustration and what it began to do to their bodies and their minds.

Instead, though, you decided to be sneaky about it. Were you ashamed? Nervous of rejection? Or was it just that you thought our relationship wasn’t like that? Perhaps too vanilla to risk destabilising it with some weird, perverted request. Perhaps you feared driving me away

Whatever it was, it meant you had to sidle up to the issue.

At first you tried dropping hints. “I’m nearly there,” you’d moan, as you got closer. And then: “I’m too close!” Not I’m close but I’m too close, hoping I’d pick up on your inflection. But I just took that to mean I was going a good job. And so I’d tip you over every time.

Then there was that time I was caressing you, stroking you closer and closer. You began to shiver in anticipation, then you caught my eye and whispered: “May I come?” and bit your lip. And I said: “Of course!” Perhaps I even sounded surprised. How frustrating that must have been for you.

In the end it was purely by accident that I realised. I’d been idly playing with you one morning. You basically gave up on your plan for denial, right then, and instead decided to relax into the pleasure and simply explode. Something about my lack of enthusiasm combined with your acceptance meant that you were right there on the edge for much longer that usual. But getting closer, so very much closer. You felt yourself tipping and-

Then the doorbell rang.

I stopped, took my hand away from you and you had what we now know is a ruin. But then, it was a first for the both of us. The way your eyes snapped open and stared at me with surprise, with agony, with frustration. The mewling wail that escaped your throat, a sound I’d never heard you made before, torn from deep inside. The shivering of your limbs as you felt that single, pathetic pulse of pleasure that trickled away like water through fingers.

I have to say, it make an impression upon me. And as I walked away to answer the door and glanced back to see you there, sheened in perspiration, mouth open, watching me leave, I remembered it…

The trouble was, you made two serious mistakes.

The first was that you really had no idea how deep inside you those roots of denial had penetrated, how fertile the soil of you needy, greedy imagination was. All that time you had spent fantasising about giving someone else control of your pleasure, your arousal and your release, had been time allowing those slow threads of that fantasy to grow. And those urges are deep and primal.

All that time you spent stroking yourself, getting aroused and letting your thoughts idly drift in the direction of denial, you had begun to associate the very physiological responses of arousal with denial.

In many, the promise of a shuddering release is the thing that stiffens their nipples, swells the sensitive skin between their legs, the very idea of racing towards climax. But those who crave denial, the wicked, deliciously kinked idea of having that release denied them, stolen from them by someone else, only to make them weaker and more pliable? Well, that is the itch that makes them want to scratch.

By masturbating to that very thought, you were conditioning yourself to associate arousal with tantalising disappointment. So when you got that first actual, real, physical taste of it – even by accident – of course it was overwhelming.

To have someone else stroking your most sensitive places always feels better. To have someone else stroke you closer to that enticing edge … and then for them to stop. Oh God, it was a fantasy coming true. A fantasy you had been entertaining for so long. No wonder it was so powerful. That first time, after so long anticipating in your imagination, it was if a switch had flipped in your brain. You couldn’t go back. And although you didn’t know it at the time, you were caught in a trap of your own making.

The second mistake you made, the entirely unforeseeable mistake – the mistake that became your downfall – was underestimating how addictive it would be for me.

I’m going to be honest, I had heard about the idea. And the thought of almost giving someone an orgasm but then … not? Well, I thought it was crazy.

Until I saw the effects.

That very first time I pulled my hand from you, that expression on your face became etched into my mind. That surprise. That desperation.

So the second time wasn’t an accident. That was entirely my choice. I wanted to see what it would do to you, to get you all the way to the edge and then stop.

If the first time, that accidental time, was the moment you realised how weak and helpless you were against the effects of denial, the second time was when you realised the absolute power you had given me.

That second time, I was looking right into your eyes when I stopped touching you. When I whispered: “No, I don’t think so. Not this time.” The expression on your face was priceless. Surprise, then raw physical desperation, then a hint of arousal … and then something else. A realisation, perhaps tinged with a little fear but also a little excitement, that I got it.

That I understood.

And it was then that you were lost.

Even thereafter, for a time, you were still shy – perhaps yet unsure I would accept this side of you. But something had changed in me, too. I took charge. I began to experiment. And each time I assured you the experiment would end and that that time would be the time we would take a break, that I would allow you release, and then changed my mind at the last moment and left you short, I saw you accept our new roles more. And that aroused me.

Every moan of frustration, every writhingly dissatisfied conclusion to your stimulation dropped you deeper and deeper into my control, helplessly carried further by your own long rooted self-programmed arousal at this process. Oh God, you hated how you loved it. Each day without release making the next more of a challenge but more of a triumph. And I was so good at it, teasing you forward with a finger between your legs, the lightest touch, whispering in your ear how good it would feel to come this time, how much of a reward it would be having gone for so long. And then I would give you a ruin and you would cry out in dissatisfaction, at the unfairness after being so good.

And I would tempt you further, draw you into deals, have you make pacts, obey me more and more deeply for the promise of release that became a ruin, or the promise of a ruin that was just an edge, or even just the promise of a single touch. Weaker and weaker you became, more and more compliant, throbbing, frustrated, grateful.

How far we have come. It’s been longer than you can remember. You have become what you darkly fantasised about for so long. Just a hopeless, eager little thing, so desperate to please, so responsive to even the faintest touch now, a stroke upon your sensitive neck, a breath upon your tingling flesh.

And the real secret? The thing I’m sure you fantasised about, although by now you have probably forgotten, living as you are in the moment, from touch to touch, edge to edge, is that this utterly desperate, mindless, helpless state of denial that sees you curl about my feet like a contented kitten, happy just to feel my fingers stroking your hair, this entire state is just the beginning.

Now you are this obedient and conditioned, your real training begins.

I’ve seen a couple people post something like this, and I thought it would be fun to try too!


So, every LIKE this post gets will be a day until I’m allowed to cum

And every REBLOG will be an edge I have to complete a day.

Message me to tell me if I deserve a ruin or not. 


I’ll leave this post up until Wednesday, 07/15/20 at midnight :) 


I love when people are daring.


Day 4

Not much fun today.  Worked an early shift,  solved scheduling problems like a boss.  Fucked up a tire on my way home.  A nice handy man with a truck stopped to help me and chastised me for not having a jack. He couldn't get my lug nuts(I don't even know, I'm Not a car person)  loosened at all. 

Spent 20 minutes on the phone with the patient roadside customer service lady, because I'm literally the worst with directions.  I drive that route 5 days a week.  

The very concerned for my safety roadside handyman brought his power tools.  I'm home safe.  Must buy tires tomorrow. 

Sorry for not a sexy post. 

Life is not always sexy.

It happens. 

Sometimes edging helps. 

Bdsmlr woes

So i see we are having issues posting today. It ate two posts. And DMs are hella spammy.


A Game of Chance
I've seen these go around and I'm rather nervous and a bit scared. But I didn't have a specific goal with my denial nor anyone controlling my orgasms. So under the suggestion of someone to challenge myself I submit myself to my peers.


1 like: 1 day in denial


1 repost: 2 edges


1 comment: 2 days in denial


I'll keep this open until midnight, July 8

Trans rights are human rights

So this is just going to be a quick thing. It’s not political, because a persons life isn’t a political stance. I’m just here to educate. “Gurl”, “tranny”, and “transsexual” are not good terms to use anymore. Language changes as we evolve and progress as a species. A trans woman is just a woman or a girl, usually with she/her pronouns. A trans man is just a man or a boy, usually with he/him pronouns. Non-binary people don’t fit into the gender binary and may have different pronouns, like they/them. Let’s not try to dehumanize trans people.

Cis is also not an insult. It’s a category. Trans and cis are opposites. If you have to denote that the person is trans, just do that. Trans gender is a good term too. Cis gender is perfectly normal if you want to denote that a person was born as the gender they identify as.

Even if you “don’t agree” that being trans is okay, it’s not your choice. If you have a friend who is dating an asshole, can you force them to break up? No. If you see a trans person living their life how they want, should you tell them that’s wrong? Also no. Human autonomy is incredibly important. It’s why you need consent from people before you have sex with them. I am choosing, of my own volition and sound of mind, to transition and live my life as a woman. Does that change your life in anyway? Nope. So don’t hate me because I’m doing what I want to my body.

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

I ended a friendship with someone who did not understand this. 

That is how fucking serious I take this issue my dear.