#anderson cooper

the-swift-tricker:

you-got-it-capstar:

the-swift-tricker:

it’s easy to mock the concept of batman’s secret identity and think it’s ridiculous that nobody would realize that he’s bruce wayne but if some lady suddenly showed up late at night dressed in full military grade kevlar and started fighting crime in los angeles i wouldn’t look at that and think “ah it’s kylie jenner”

Same logic applies to Clark Kent tbh

I wouldn’t see Superman, the crazy powerful alien, zooming past me and go “i think he’s secretly an award winning journalist”

“it’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s…anderson cooper?!”

Bad example. I would FULLY believe that Anderson Cooper might be a heroic costumed superpowered crime-fighter in his spare time. Honestly, I kind of already believe this.

[10.24.2014]

“Drink five of those in the next ten minutes.” When Reaction Junkie pointed at my cup and ordered me to start having lots of water, I smiled. We were at the house party he was hosting for a bunch of kinky friends. I’d had a rough week, so I appreciated what I thought was Reaction Junkie engaging in the regular (and always enjoyable) bladder control and desperation that is part of our dynamic. I drank the water, and not long after, I felt the pressure building in my abdomen. I sat on the ground, and began rocking back and forth a little, attempting to distract myself from the feeling.

Reaction Junkie noticed my distress and started teasing me, “What’s wrong? Do you need to peeee?” I was a little embarrassed he was doing this in front of the party, even though I knew most of the people there fairly well. I pouted at him and said that of course I had to pee. He laughed, refused my request, and continued the teasing. At one point, he ordered me, “Go get a towel and one of your favorite shirts.” When I heard that, I realized this might not just be the normal bladder play I thought it was; he had something special in mind.

“Is he going to make me piss myself on the floor, in front of everyone?”, I thought. “No. He wouldn’t do that. Would he? Nah. It’d be too much of a mess. Right?” I refused his order to fetch the towel and shirt. Reaction Junkie gave me a look, and I managed to refuse again, but my will was weakening. He walked over to me, and I flinched, expecting to be hit for my disobedience. Instead, he started stepping on me, pressing down on my bladder. I was happy that he’d dropped the idea of making me get the towel and favorite shirt. Until he put more of his weight onto me, compressing my bladder further. I pleaded with him, “Please stop! I’m going to pee.”

Taking his foot off me, Reaction Junkie said, “Go sit on the toilet.” I was relieved for a moment until he added, “But don’t pee.” I whined, but got up and headed to the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet and waited. Reaction Junkie came in after a moment and told me I’d better not piss. I nodded and said, “I’m not.” He went back into the living room and I tried to distract myself from the need to pee. I was determined to be a good girl for him, especially since he’d left the bathroom door open, so if I started to pee, everyone would be able to hear.

When Reaction Junkie returned a minute later and saw me rocking back and forth, focusing on not pissing, he grinned, amused by my distress. “Do you think we should invite other people to come see?” he asked. My eyes opened wide in horror, and I shook my head and said, “No!” He smirked at me and said, “Don’t pretend like you don’t want this.” Turning towards the open door, he called out, “Who wants to see [LFB] piss herself?” I felt my face growing hot as a group of people gathered around the door. A few I knew fairly well, like The Unknown Quantity, Anderson Cooper, and Cute Thing (one of Reaction Junkie’s other partners). Two others, I didn’t know at all. And one of them, Pretty Girl, was a lovely woman who bought me a drink a couple happy hours ago, and who I’m shyly interested in.

As the group of partners, friends, and acquaintances looked on, Reaction Junkie began pressing on me, cruelly compressing my full bladder, all the while telling me not to piss and making comments to the crowd. I held strong, but it was increasingly difficult. All of a sudden, he punched my abdomen. It wasn’t the hardest I’ve been punched, but neither was it gentle. I managed not to piss, but only just. I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes and my words. He reassured the crowd that even though it seemed like he was being mean to me, he was actually fulfilling a fantasy. I felt embarrassed to have this fantasy revealed. Then I saw something in his face that told me what was going to happen next. He was going to read from my tumblr post about the fantasy he was currently fulfilling.

I didn’t want the additional humiliation of having him read out my fantasy to the group. Not only would they know that he really was fulfilling a fantasy, that this was something I wanted to happen, I knew I’d be uncomfortable having my writing read aloud, and, of course, there was the fear that they would find my tumblr and I’d be entirely exposed as a disgusting, fucked up little bitch. Reaction Junkie took out his phone and I said, “No, don’t read it. You can’t!” He turned to face me, his expression making me cower. *SMACK* He slapped me hard across the face. “Did you just try to tell me what I can and can’t do?” he asked. Suitably chastened and feeling tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, I shook my head and responded in a small voice, “No, dear.”

He pulled up my post and began reading, “”No, you may not use the bathroom.” He ignores my desperate pleas as the 5 bottles of water he made me drink before the party quickly catch up with me…” I looked at the floor as he read, embarrassed on multiple levels. Reaction Junkie noticed. “Look everyone in the eye,” he ordered. I took a deep breath, steeling myself to look up and see the faces staring back at me. Feeling humiliated, I complied with his instructions, making eye contact with each person in turn. My thoughts were racing as I searched their expressions for what they were thinking. I saw mostly amusement and interest, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

When Reaction Junkie got to a part of my fantasy where the character representing me speaks, he imitated me teasingly, “Please let me pee? It’s starting to hurt and I’m worried I’m going to wet myself.” These “cute” imitations are something that he and I have discussed repeatedly. He is not supposed to do them, and when he does, he gets punished. So, in the middle of him dominating, embarrassing, degrading, and humiliating me, I made him stop reading and lean his head down. I licked his face, which is something he finds very unpleasant and has been a common punishment for behavior such as this. “Sorry, sir.” he said in his little subby boy voice. The gathered crowed laughed and someone said, “Your dynamic is so hot.”

Of course, immediately after his punishment was over, Reaction Junkie continued reading. And I continued being uncomfortable. Now, instead of imitating me when he got to my parts of the dialogue, Reaction Junkie did something worse. He made me read my lines, all while continuing to look this crowd of friends, acquaintances, and near strangers in the eyes. He read the entire story, with me on the toilet next to him, squirming and uncomfortable for so many reasons. I had to pee, of course, but I was also turned on and embarrassed about what he was reading and that he was reading something I’d written to this group of people.

When he finally finished, reading out the last line of the fantasy, “Happy birthday, pisswhore,” I was looking down, almost distracted from the urge to piss. then he said, “I wonder if we could all fit in here. I wanted to make her piss in the tub.” I shook my head, not wanting the further humiliation of everyone filling the bathroom and watching me piss, with the added embarrassment of not being allowed to piss in the toilet like a person. The Unknown Quantity decided to chime in, “Yeah. I think we can all fit.” Reaction Junkie grinned and told me, “Sit on the edge of the tub.” I was reluctant, but didn’t want another slap or additional punishment, so I moved over to the bathtub.

The crowd filed in and someone shut the door. Now I was sitting on the rim of the tub, holding onto the sink to position myself to sit into it. And everyone was looking right at me. Reaction Junkie slid his hand between my legs and teased my cunt with his fingers. “Look how turned on she is, ” he said to the crowd. Turning back to me, he put his hand in my face, “You’re soaked. Smell this.” I obeyed, but looked down, thoroughly embarrassed and a little ashamed. Reaction Junkie said, “Look at everyone.” I did, my face growing hot as I looked at the people who now knew just how wet I was from the treatment I was receiving.

Reaction Junkie gave me another instruction, adding to my discomfort, “Spread your legs so everyone can see.” Slowly, reluctantly, I opened myself up. I felt vulnerable and exposed, and even half-closed them a few times. Each time, however, I spread them apart again when I saw Reaction Junkie’s face. He considered for a moment, and then asked, “Should I go get a vibrator?” I shook my head, actually upset. I didn’t think I’d be able to get off like this, or, if I could, I worried it would take so long that people would get bored. I wasn’t sure how I’d handle that in addition to the stress of the situation. He saw the expression on my face and recognized what I needed. “Nah, that will take too long,” he said. “Now piss.”

I started to try and let go, to start peeing in the tub. I kept my eyes focused on him alone, not wanting to look anyone else in the eye while I pissed in the tub. “Don’t look at me. Look at Pretty Girl,” Reaction Junkie said, ordering me to look the girl I like right in the eyes. The first time we’d hung out outside of happy hour, and she was about to see me piss myself. I looked at her, complying with his instructions. Reaction Junkie ordered me to pee again. I tried, but just couldn’t let go. “I don’t know. I can’t.” I said to him. “Oh, you better,” he responded, “You better piss yourself in front of all these people.”

I was worried about what people would thing, how they’d see me differently. Finally, the need to pee overcame my desire not to do so like this, in front of all these people. The piss streamed out of me, splashing into the tub as I emptied my bladder, a group of people watching my degradation and humiliation. Finally, the stream slowed to a trickle, then drops, and finally, it stopped. Reaction Junkie asked if I needed toilet paper. I said, “Yes, please.” When he handed it to me, I looked at it and said, “Not the one ply! Red!” making everyone laugh. Then I wiped, adding one final embarrassment to the day. Everyone filed out, leaving Reaction Junkie and I alone together. I was filled with a mix of emotions. Arousal, shame, amusement, embarrassment, gratitude, and, of course, happiness. How could I not be happy? Reaction Junkie had just literally made one of my fantasies come true.

I can’t wait to see what he’ll do for my actual birthday.

Anderson Cooper’s collar was giving him some issues, and I offered to give him some of my black duct tape to make it less itchy. We didn’t have a chance to do it the first night of the con, so when I saw him the morning of the second day, I offered to bring him up to my room to do that, since I needed to head up anyway. He agreed and we headed up.

I took off my skirt to change it, and Anderson Cooper said, “Gorgeous ass.” I grinned at him and and he came up behind me for a minute. I leaned back and considered turning to kiss him. Although it was totally the signal (HIMYM reference!), I didn’t, maybe because I wasn’t sure about doing something in the room I was sharing with Reaction Junkie, instead saying that we should fix up his collar with the duct tape.

We sat down on the bed and he fixed his collar. I thought about if I wanted to do something with him, and if it would bother Reaction Junkie to do it on our bed. I decided that since he’d literally offered Anderson Cooper to me, he’d be more than okay with it. I felt silly for not going for a kiss earlier, and decided if things headed in that direction again, I’d go for it.

When we were done fixing the collar, I lay back on the bed. His arm went around me and he leaned down. We started kissing. We made out for a while and then his hand snaked up under my shirt. We both sat up and took our shirts off. We continued touching each other and kissing, and then he started teasing around my pussy.

I whimpered, and he eventually started to take off my panties. We both ended up naked, his fingers on my clit. We continue making out for a while and then changed position so that I was laying back, the position that works best for me. He continued rubbing me, making me moan and tremble. I relaxed into it and started fantasizing.

He kept touching me, and I felt the pressure building. I started to shake and moan more loudly. Finally, I came hard. When I came down from the orgasm a little, his fingers were inside me, and I felt like I was on the way to cumming again. I asked him if he wanted to fuck me, and he said he didn’t at that moment. I did an internal shrug (Oh no how terrible I’ll just get off. Such briar patch.) and relaxed back into it.

I was on my way to an orgasm when I heard a click from the door. We both froze and I had a moment of panic thinking it might be Reaction Junkie. There’s a distinct difference between not being bothered by your partner doing something with someone else and actually seeing it or walking in on it unexpectedly. I relaxed again when I heard Reaction Junkie and my roommate for the con’s (known as “B” from here on) voice say, “Is it safe?” Anderson Cooper and I laughed a bit, threw some clothes on, and let B in.

Anderson Cooper and I had been cuddling and doing some super light play for a while now. Once or twice we almost did more, but the timing or location wasn’t right. I’m glad we managed to find a time to actually make out and have some naked fun.

Interesting side note: That was the most vanilla thing I’ve done in months. Of course it happened while I was at a kink convention. And of course the way he ended up in my room was that I offered to give him some duct tape for his collar. And of course it was with someone I met because Reaction Junkie literally offered him to me as a bottom. Of course. Oh, my life.

This weekend was complicated and difficult and fun. I learned a lot about myself, picked up a couple new tricks, and cried a lot, not all for fun reasons.

I discovered that yep, poly is hard, and apparently I have some hangups about sex that I wasn’t fully aware of. I feel better about things than I did, but I’m not over it by any means. I have jealousy to work on, and, according to one thing Reaction Junkie lobbed at me, I’m codependent. He didn’t mean it in a cute way, either. He’s probably right. I do tend to get attached and needy. I thought he was somewhat similar, and he may be, but not to the same extent. Or something. I don’t know. I’m going to talk to him about it, but since I’m vomiting feelings here anyway, I thought I’d write that down before I forgot.

I have a rule that I want to put in place, but Reaction Junkie most likely isn’t okay with it. We set up a modified version, but I’m not sure it’s enough. We’ve talked a lot about it, and the accute upset feelings are gone, but I’ve still got lots of feelings bubbling under the surface. They’re coming out as I write this, as in I’m starting to cry after finally goring for more than an hour or so without doing so and I am concerned about getting passive aggressive in what I’m writing, so I’m going to stop.

I had some fun scenes with Reaction Junkie, had some one on one time with Anderson Cooper, and got to actually meet nankingdecade and had an awesome scene with him, but it’s going on take a while to fully process all the emotional stuff so I don’t know when, or even, to be honest, if I’ll be able to write up much.

Part 1

Anti-Feminist Libertarian Boy and I rejoined the party. We walked over to a group of happy hour folks and started talking. I really enjoy knowing a bunch of people, even if I’m shit at keeping names and faces straight. Boy Genius and I were slated to have a scene, so we started moving towards that goal. He got distracted talking to people, and while I was standing around watching, a guy I didn’t know came up and introduced himself. We got to talking and shared our kinks, and when caning came up, he asked if I wanted to be caned. I hesitated, unsure about doing impact with a total stranger, but then said that I would after my scene with Boy Genius. I looked over to him and signaled that I wanted to get started.

We walked over to the mat and I stripped. Boy Genius jokingly tried to engage my misogyny kink, but I told him “Don’t even try. That’s not your specialty.” He laughed and grabbed some rope. He tied me with my hands behind my back, arms bent, one elbow up, one down, and lowered me to the floor. He tied my legs tight and then grabbed them and put them on his shoulder. He doesn’t usually do impact, so I was pleasantly surprised when he started warming me up. He hit me with one of the quiet drumsticks (?) and spanked me. Then he pulled out a cane, which got me excited, since I do enjoy a good beating. He hit me a bunch, including a few times I briefly considered yellowing.

Finally, he had me pick a number between six and ten. I said “Seven.” “Are you sure?” he asked. I said yes, and he said “Okayyyy…” He hit me hard with the cane and said, “Seven!” loudly, followed less loudly by “Six, five, four, three, two, one.” With each number he said quietly, he struck me again, more softly. This wasn’t what I had been expecting, but I was pleasantly surprised. “Six!” Hard hit. “Five, four, three, two, one.” Softer hits. He repeated this down all the way to “One!” where he struck me the hardest. We ended the scene, chatted and laughed for a while, since I don’t really need aftercare for something like that, and then I went to find some more people to talk with.

I spent the rest of the night in conversation with people, some old, some new. At one point during the evening, I was talking with Reaction Junkie and Anderson Cooper. Reaction Junkie said that Anderson Cooper and I should play, and Anderson Cooper responded that he hadn’t topped in six months. Reaction Junkie responded, “Who said you’re topping?” and I told Anderson Cooper, “That’s pretty presumptuous. He offered you to me as a bottom.” I wouldn’t object to being topped by him, but he’s super fucking adorable, so I definitely want to try hurting him and ordering him around.

A little while after I returned from being outside, the guy who had asked if he could cane me earlier in the night must have noticed that I’d finished my scene with Boy Genius because he came over and asked if I was ready to play. I didn’t feel like it, but felt some weird internal pressure to do it since I’d said I would. I was about to go off with him, but then I decided to just be upfront and told him that I didn’t want to. He graciously accepted my decision and walked away. By this point, I had to pee, and since Reaction Junkie was there, I had to ask his permission. When I looked for him, however, he was busy, so I couldn’t ask. I told a couple people about it and they were highly amused by my discomfort. Ah, friendship.

As I looked around, I saw The Violinist sitting in a chair. We had plans to go back to his place after the party, and I’d seen him earlier in the evening and then lost track of him. When I walked up to say hello, he grabbed me and pulled me onto his lap and continued his conversation. I listened to the conversation and participated a little for a while until Anderson Cooper walked over. The Violinist stood up for a hug. I was slightly off to the side, but I got pulled in between them and they squished me. Oh no, being the meat in a “dudes I’d totally bang” sandwich. Pure torture! I was pretty happy about it. The Violinist pulled me back onto his lap and, when I told him about having to piss but not being able to, he squeezed my bladder a little, which I enjoyed.

Finally, I saw that Reaction Junkie was free. I chased him down (Almost literally. I had to walk half way around the room because we were both going clockwise.) and asked for permission. He pointed at the bottle of water I was holding and told me, “Yes, but you have to finish that first.” I pouted briefly and he told me I could just go, but he’d given me the instruction and I wanted to be good, so I said, “No, I’m gonna do it.” I chugged the thing as quickly as I could and speedwalked through the rope, beatings, and naked folks to the bathroom.

When I was done, I headed back over to The Violinist. We decided it was time to go, and I started saying goodbyes to people. I saw The Unknown Quantity and walked up to him and gave him a hug. He’d been talking with The Queene, and she said, “No hug for me?” I gasped, apologized, and said of course there was a hug for her. I’m really happy that she seems to like me because she’s an awesome lady. I said bye to a couple other people, hugged Reaction Junkie and said goodnight, and then The Violinist headed to his place for more fun.

Note: I know this is a month late. Sorry! I’m working on catching up, but I’ve been so busy at work and socially.

I had plans to grab dinner with MLAM and Reaction Junkie before the Tuesday happy hour. MLAM and I were to meet about an hour before Reaction Junkie would show up, and have a little time to walk around and catch up one on one. As I rode the train to meet MLAM, I started feeling very nervcited. I hadn’t seen him in months, and we hadn’t talked much lately. When the train stopped, I walked slowly over to the escalator and took a deep breath before getting on. I looked around as I rode up, wanting to spot MLAM. I stepped off, turned, and saw him. I gave him a big hug and he picked me up, grinning. I felt my feet brush against someone and I turned around to see Reaction Junkie. I squeaked, happy to see him, and gave him a big hug as well. I was glad he was there because I love spending time with him, but I was also a little disappointed not to have any time one-on-one with MLAM.

I introduced the two men, both of whom have been major parts of my life, and we started walking. They’re both the bizarre kind of human being who is completely devoid of social anxiety, so they immediately began conversing. I joined in, as well, and we walked to the vegan restaurant for dinner. While we were there, the two men were both being dommy and mean, telling me to do things hurting me subtly , teasing me. They were basically co-domming me. It was a heady experience, feeling submissive towards and dominated by two people at once. I’m not sure if I was having a total blast or was completely miserable. (And of course that’s a lie. It’s obviously the former.)

After we finished eating, we headed to happy hour. I have to admit I was still feeling rather nervous. That resulted in me acting out a bit with Reaction Junkie. I tried to play it like it was me being toppy, but it was really something of a performance. As we walked, Reaction Junkie called me out on my nervous behavior and I worked to reign it in. Reaction Junkie had originally been planning to skip happy hour and go to a meeting, but he didn’t feel well, so he stayed. When happy hour began, I talked with people, introducing MLAM to some of my friends and other partners, but I tried not to be all over him because I wanted to let him do his thing or be too clingy. Looking back, that was silly. We hadn’t seen each other in months, so of course it would have been fine for me to glom on the whole night.

I spent some time in a lovely little cuddle pile with Anderson Cooper, Kitten, Reaction Junkie, and someone else I didn’t really know. The whole time, however, I was watching MLAM out of the corner of my eye, wondering when it would be appropriate to grab him and go upstairs for some time with him in a play-friendly setting. Finally, I decided I didn’t want to wait any longer, and I sidled up and asked him if he wanted to go up with me. He did, and we headed up.

As soon as we got upstairs and I put my things down, he grabbed my hair and led me around the space. He told me to put my glasses in my bag and dragged me back towards it. I asked what he wanted me to take off, but he said he’d take off what he wanted off. I like that answer. I certainly don’t mind when people I play with allow me to take off what I want, and when I’m just beginning to play with someone, that’s the proper way to go about it, in my opinion. But having him tell me that he’d do it, and knowing that I’d take off what he told me to. Mmph. It’s the little things, and he’s very good at those small details, creating and solidifying the dynamic.

Next, he started leading me around my my nipple, which hurt like fuck. He pushed me down on one of the ottomans and I sat facing him, waiting expectantly. He began hitting my left leg a bunch, slapping my thigh repeatedly to warm up, and then hitting me harder. At one point, he stuck his hand in my face and instructed me to lick. I obeyed, although I wasn’t sure why he was doing that. Then, as he slapped my leg again with his wet hand, I remembered. It makes it hurt more because less gas is trapped between the hitter’s hand and the hittee’s body. (Or something physics-y like that. I think that’s right?) I’d forgotten that trick. He continued hurting me, and played with my mind, acting like he was going to hit me, then not, then going to hit me again, again not hitting me, finally hitting me, etc. By the end of the first round, I was shaking from the pain and the mental stress he was putting me under.

When we took a breather, I looked over my body and saw the marks already beginning to form. I asked MLAM if he would show Reaction Junkie how he did things, since he’s so good at leaving the kinds of marks I love. I almost didn’t ask because I didn’t want Reaction Junkie to feel like I was saying anything negative about him, but I know he’s not like that, so I did. They both stood over me. MLAM showed him things as they talked, Reaction Junkie tried them out, and they both mostly ignored me. It was objectifying and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

They both began hitting me. My legs were shaking and I was breathing fast as the two men beat my legs. When Reaction Junkie hit my right outer thigh, which he had destroyed the previous weekend, it overwhelmed me. I curled up around myself and had to take a break. Reaction Junkie got me some water and I caught my breath. When we resumed, I had one man on each leg, each hitting me and toying with me. MLAM showed how much he enjoys stressing people out psychologically with mindfuckery and headgames. It makes the pain worse with less effort from him. I lay back on the row of ottomans and closed my eyes. They were both beating me hard and fast, slapping and punching my thighs. I was shaking and groaning, struggling not to be too loud as I reveled in the sensations I was experiencing.

When there was a lull in the impact, MLAM asked me, “How do you feel about your ribcage?” I was confused for a moment, having gone into a headspace, but then agreed to having him hit me there. I lay down on the ottomans. MLAM started hitting my back, smacking down forcefully with open hands. It stung like fuck, and that mingled with the pain and fear and stress from when they were both hitting my legs. I started crying. I decided we should stop. Partially because I was about done, but more than that, because I don’t want to make people uncomfortable. This was a happy hour, not an official play party, and even if “light play” has no real meaning, I feel like someone crying could have been upsetting to someone in this non-play party context.

I cuddled and talked with MLAM for a little while after the scene was over. When I felt recovered, I got some water downstairs. When I went back up, MLAM was standing with a group of people that included Reaction Junkie. I went and stood by MLAM for a while, and I was thinking about joining Reaction Junkie when MLAM told me that if I wanted to go be by him, that was fine. I didn’t want to leave MLAM, but I also did feel the need to be by Reaction Junkie. So I cuddled up to him and spent the rest of the night talking to him and the rest of the group.

I had a great night, but MLAM apparently did not. He told me later that he felt like a third wheel, like he was intruding. That’s not at all how I felt about him being there. I didn’t realize he would feel that way at all. It didn’t even cross my mind. It likely would have been better if MLAM and I had had some time for just us before meeting up with Reaction Junkie. When I talked with Reaction Junkie about things the next day, he admitted that he had felt similarly, and had been trying to stay out of our way. I’d spent more of my concern about hurt feelings than necessary on Reaction Junkie, and not enough on MLAM. I regret not having alone time with MLAM first, and not spending more time with him at happy hour. Next time, I’ll do a better job of actually talking to people about how they want to interact in situations like that. I’m still very glad MLAM came to town, and the other two times we got together went much better. I do miss him, and I hope to get a chance to see him sometime in the near future.

Part 2

“And none of that is even remotely true.” Reaction Junkie said this moments after whispering the final, devastating lines of the story into my ear. I sat there, letting the sadness sink in. Then I turned towards him and buried my head in his chest. I hadn’t cried while he was telling me the story, but now the tears started. I was getting into my head, thinking about how it would feel if he actually did that, imagining those emotions. He’d come incredibly close to some of my real fears and insecurities. In fact, he’d hit upon them. Being unwanted, unimportant, replaceable, second best. Having someone I care about pull away from me. Being left alone, with no social support network. Those are some of my biggest fears, the things that would destroy me most readily.

When I stopped crying enough to talk, I looked up at Reaction Junkie and said, “You’re so fucked up.” We both smiled and started talking about what he’d just done to me. I told him how close it was to my real anxieties and how it reminded me of things that had happened to me in the past. I wasn’t mad at him, exactly, but as we talked, I decided to take my upset feelings and use them against him. I put on what I’m sure was a half angry, half pouty face, and said, “Give me your shirt.” Without hesitating, he removed it and gave it to me. I put it on and then licked his face, which he hates. I was grinning now, and when he wiped off where I’d licked him, I told him not to. He told me I’d better cuff him if I was going to do that. I did so, and then held his hands down while I licked him. He struggled a bit, and managed to wipe his face on me. I grabbed his hair in response, and held his head still while I licked his face.

Eventually, I let him get up, and he wandered off, still cuffed. I went over to Mort and told her about what Reaction Junkie had done. She and I talked for a little while, and then parted ways. I figured I should go uncuff Reaction Junkie. When I found him, however, he was already out. I was entirely unsurprised. I joined in the conversation he was having. I mentioned to him that in addition to giving me the emotional bruises with his story, he should touch up the physical bruises he’d given me previously. I was, once again, literally asking for it. And I got it.

Reaction Junkie handcuffed me, brought me to the ground, and started hitting me. He focused his attention on my left thigh, where he’d beat me the day before. He hit me with his open hand, then his fist. He threw in a few elbows for good measure. I was on the floor, half curled up. Because of the cuffs, I couldn’t even do anything with my hands to help me endure the blows. “Please stop,” I whimpered. That had the expected effect of not causing him to stop. I tried to take more, but I was about at my limit. “Yellow!” He didn’t change what he was doing in the slightest. Then, quietly, “Red.” Reaction Junkie still didn’t stop.

No matter how many times he responds that way to my safewords, I’m always surprised, and I always have a moment of panic. That turns into uncertainty and fear, which combine with feeling pleased and excited to create a delicious rush. This time was no different. I didn’t want to say it too loudly, since people are supposed to stop at “red” in most playspaces. I told this to Reaction Junkie later and he laughed and said, “You could be shouting ‘RED!’ and no one would do a thing about it.” Because I’m his. I’m his property. And he can do whatever he wants to me.

Reaction Junkie did uncuff me, but afterwards, he just went back to hitting me again. I pushed away from him at one point, scooting back. Anderson Cooper came up behind me and I sat against him. At first, I used him to help me deal with the pain by squeezing his legs. Then, when I tried to to push back even more, he blocked me. I couldn’t get away as Reaction Junkie slammed his elbows into me. It hurt so much, so deeply. I just couldn’t take it anymore. In the moment between two impacts, I practically pounced on Reaction Junkie, hugging him tightly. The pain stopped, and the tears that I’d started crying during the beating started to slow.

I finally turned to Anderson Cooper and gave him a dirty look. He just grinned at me, having enjoyed his role in my distress. I kicked at him weakly, which he immediately reported to Reaction Junkie. Reaction Junkie said he’d help. Of course, he didn’t help me. As I lay on my side on the ground, he placed his heel on my bruised and sensitive outer left thigh. The pressure was bad enough, but then he kicked down, his heel slamming into my flesh. The pain went through me like a shock, and I curled up around Reaction Junkie’s feet. I stayed there, sobbing and shaking, until I was finally able to stand up.

Reaction Junkie hugged me and put his mouth next to my ear, “You’re mine. Body, mind, and soul.” He continued speaking low into my ear, reinforcing his ownership and reminding me that I belong to him forever. These words contradicted the awful story he’d told me earlier in the night. They turned me on, made my cunt clench. I shivered in response, and Anderson Cooper noticed my reaction. He told me, “I don’t know what he said to you, but I imagine it was fucked up and something only [Reaction Junkie] could think of.” I smiled and told him what Reaction Junkie had said to me earlier, about making me dependent on him and then withdrawing from me. Anderson Cooper looked over at Reaction Junkie and said, “That’s so fucked up…I kinda want to tie him down and pull out each of his chest hairs one by one.” Anderson Cooper is such a sweet guy.

The rest of the night was great as well. Reaction Junkie got on the pole and danced for a group of us, which resulted in laughter and clapping and glee from everyone. I got on the bed with Anderson Cooper and a group of friends and acquaintances. We all cuddled and talked, and people pressed on my bruises. After the party was over, a group of us went to IHOP and sat at a big table of fifteen plus people. It felt like a big family dinner. I was surrounded by fun and friends and affection.

The party went from social anxiety to minor jealousy to fun conversation to emotional anguish to physical pain, and all the way to feeling like I was part of something, a community. Like I fit. It was a wonderful night.

[Note: This is about the previous happy hour, on Tuesday, August 19 2014]

When we got to the fast food place, Reaction Junkie and Anderson Cooper ordered their food. Before we walked up the stairs to grab a table, Reaction Junkie handed me his bag to carry while he went to the bathroom. When Anderson Cooper came over, I decided to see if he would do something for me and, in an adorable little voice, I told him the bag was too heavy and asked him to carry it. He obviously did. Later on, Reaction Junkie told me he probably liked that. Hee hee hee. We all sat down and talked for a while. They both have appealing politics and I enjoy watching their friendship dynamic.

A little while later, another group of people from happy hour joined us, and we moved to a bigger table. Several of them were women who were, from what I could tell, toppy or top-leaning. I was really digging the energy at the table and the way people were interacting. I’m ridiculously into the idea of having a friend group, where I have lots of friends and they all know each other, as opposed to just having a bunch of friends. It’s about that community feel. It makes me feel like I have a home, a bit like having a chosen family. Maybe not quite that intense, although I also crave that family feeling, so I would welcome having a group of friends/a community develop into a chosen family.

The toppy ladies were talking about underwear and one of them said “Looking cute is important in the dungeon. You look cute and then you hurt people.” Role models! That’s exactly how I want to be when I’m topping/domming. Also, at one point I said something about having to play dumb or being submissive to men, or something. One of the women responded in a sardonic tone, “Oh, yes. Because women are inferior to men and should be submissive to them at all times.” She waited a beat and then continued, “Because the guys at this table definitely believe that.” It’s funny cuz subby boys. Later on, one of the women was talking about CBT and offering to give lessons to the other. I said I would be interested. She gave me her card and said she would definitely teach me some time. Heh heh heh heh.

I really liked these women, but they intimidated me. Not only because they were toppy, but also because they were women. Women are always more intimidating than men. Partially because I care a lot about what women think and find them harder to impress, which makes for a nervous little feminist bitch. Not to mention the fact that men are, well, easy. No offense, guys. Y'all are still superior and all that, but I know what to do with you. Reaction Junkie has promised to help me make some female friends, which I’m super excited about.

Before we left the restaurant, Reaction Junkie asked if I was in a toppy space. I’d been hitting someone pretty hard not too long before, but also I really like subbing for him, so I said I could be. It seemed like he wanted me to, so I resolved to try to keep my headspace. We headed out to take the train, and, as we left, Anderson Cooper called after us, “Have fun, you two!”, making me blush and smile. I like it when someone knows exactly what dirty dirty things I’m about to go get up to.

While we were waiting for the train, he started saying things to me, holding my hair, and generally being dommy. He started referencing the edgeplay I’m not allowed to tell anyone about, and I finally stopped him and ask him if he wanted me to top. I knew that if he kept doing what he was doing, it would render me unable to do so. He said he could go either way, I said that I could top, but then he just…kept doing those things and pushed me into a subby headspace. When we got on the train, we cuddled up and he started whispering terrible things in my ear about hurting me, killing me, raping me. About how nobody would even try to stop him if he just started beating me then and there. I was incredibly turned on and it was all I could do not to moan too loudly.

When we finally made it back to his place, he went into the kitchen while I took off my shoes. He asked me if I wanted water, and I said I did. He called me into the kitchen, telling me to come get it. I sighed to myself and thought, “He’s doing a thing.” When I walked into the kitchen, I found that I had been absolutely correct. He had a bowl filled with water and told me I was going to drink my water out of it, on the floor, no hands. Like an animal. That is my place, after all. I whined for a while, but I was always going to do it. It was new for me, and I tend to whine before doing new things, but when someone, especially someone with that level of control over me, tells me to do a thing, I do a thing.

He told me to drink it like a kitty, by lapping it up. I was thirsty and being a bit pert, so I asked if I could do it like a horse instead, since horses gulp. He agreed, although he did make me drink some of it “like a kitty” because he wanted to see it. When I’d drank most, but not all, of the water, I stopped. “Are you done?” he asked. I didn’t want more and I didn’t want to keep drinking off the floor, so I said, “Yes.” He repeated the question,“Are you done?” I whined that I couldn’t tell what question he was asking, if I was finished and didn’t want more, or if I had drank all of it. His tone changed when he asked the next time.“Are. You. Done?” I took a risk and said, “Yes.”

He picked up the bowl and grabbed a towel. “You know how we can check if you’re done?” he asked. I cringed, knowing I’d answered wrong. He dumped the rest of the water on my head, and I whimpered. Next time I’ll actually finish my water.

Now that I’d been properly put in my place, we went into his room. I stripped and went to the bathroom. He told me that when I was done pissing, I should spread my legs. I did as instructed, and he came in and pissed into the bowl through my legs. Some got on me, of course, and when he was done, he told me, in a disgusted tone, to clean myself off. I sighed, washed off, and brushed my teeth.

When I went back into the bedroom, he was already in bed. He motioned for me to kneel next to him and I complied. “I’ve reconsidered you letting me sleep in my bed. You can sleep at the foot of the bed.” he told me, noting that I was gross from being on the train and being pissed on. I felt a bit sad and let out a little noise. “Can you say there all night? he asked. I told him I didn’t know, and he seemed to pick up on the fact that not being allowed to cuddle up and sleep with him would have made me bad, and not in a good way, because he told me we could do it another time, he wanted a big spoon.

We cuddled up. I was super exhausted from all the fun I’ve been having, especially with him. He reached back and started playing with my cunt. I fell asleep with him touching me.

I like this kid. I slip into subspace ridiculously easily with him, and I love the rush of being afraid that I get when he tops me. It’s also fun to get to explore my dom side, even if I cede control to him at the slightest hint he’ll take it. Besides the kink stuff, he’s a genuinely interesting person and I really enjoy both having conversations with him and just listening to him talk. I’m excited to spend more time with him.

Pussy Riot’s Nadya Tolokonnikova talks Putin, puking, and war in Ukraine.

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Phoning it in.