#consensual nonconsent
Last night I went over to Legolas’ place. He was sore from a bike ride over the weekend, so I planned on it being a low key night. I offered to make butternut squash mac ‘n cheese and some kale, and he made us baked potatoes. We chatted while we cooked, he groped me a few times, and it was all very pleasant. Eventually, we were just waiting on the pasta to cook. Legolas asked me if that was all that was left, and when I said it was, he said “Get on your knees.” I smiled and complied immediately. He took out his cock and I got to work, wrapping my lips around it and taking it into my mouth. He allowed me to control the pace at first, but then he grabbed my head and used my mouth like the fuckhole it is. I tried not to pull away and be a good hole for him, even when there was spit all over my face and I wanted to wipe it away. Shortly before the pasta was done, he stopped and pulled his cock out of my mouth. He seemed pretty pleased with himself. I know I was happy to get a chance to be doubly useful in the kitchen.
We took the food up to his room and watched a documentary about atheism on Netflix while we ate because obviously. When we finished, he asked if I had to go. I told him I could stay if he wanted, and he asked, “If I fuck your cunt, are you going going to be a whiny little bitch about it?” I smiled, because I love having him hurt my cunt, and told him that no, I would not be. He grabbed me and dragged me by the hair over to the bed and threw me down on it. Before I really knew what was happening, his cock was in my mouth and he was fucking my face. I did my best to just take the abuse as his cock hit the back of my throat with force. He stopped at one point and as I gasped for air, he asked me “Do you want more of that?” I took a breath and told him that I did want more, which he gladly gave me.
When he stopped fucking my face, I didn’t get more than a few seconds before he pulled me by my hair over to the side of the bed. I knew what was coming, but it’s always a little bit of a shock when his cock slips all the way in when he starts throatfucking me. It hurts and I can’t breathe and it’s scary. I always end up crying at least a little bit from the violence and from having my airway blocked. And I love it when he uses me that way.
Tonight was no different, and he pushed his cock all the way in, making me grip the sheets, struggling not to panic and, more importantly, not to jerk away from him. He used my throat hard, pushing almost until I couldn’t handle any more before letting me up to cough and breathe for a moment before pulling my head back down and sliding his cock back into my throat. He did this repeatedly, slapping me and pulling my hair when I wasn’t taking his cock. When I gagged and half-vomited in my mouth a couple times, he just laughed at me. My face was covered in my own sputum, which is one of my least favorite substances to be covered in. Partway through, he opened his bathroom door so I could watch my hole being violated. As he fucked my throat hard, he commented that I’d improved since he’d started doing this to me. I would have smiled at the compliment if I hadn’t been busy fighting my own body’s natural reaction to pull away when something big is shoved down my throat.
Finally, he stopped abusing my throat and pulled me over to the side of the bed. He lay down in the middle of the bed and said we could take a break. I like to think I earned it. Of course, I wasn’t going to get to just sit back and relax. No, I was to continue using my mouth on his cock. He told me, “If you do it good enough this way, we don’t have to go back to the other way.” I took as much of him as I could, pushing myself and using my tongue at the same time. I was focused on what I was doing, so when he asked, “Have you been giving a lot of blowjobs lately?” it surprised me. I told him I hadn’t been and he said, “You’re better at it.” I appreciated the compliment and went back to servicing him with my mouth.
Either I didn’t do quite good enough a job, despite my improvement, or he just felt like fucking my throat again, because Legolas grabbed my hair and pulled me back over the side of the bed. I shied away once or twice, instinct overtaking my brain for a moment, but then gripped the bed. He held my arms down and slid his cock all the way into my throat. I did my best to just accept the violation, wanting to be good for him. He stopped for a moment and told me, “I’m going to do this for a while longer, then I’m going to fuck your cunt, and then I’m going to cum on your face.” I liked the sound of that plan. Not that it mattered, since he wasn’t asking if I was okay with him doing those things, he was telling me what was going to happen.
He fucked my throat for a while longer, and when he finally finished, I coughed and caught my breath for a moment. I took out my tampon and sat back on the bed. “Spread your legs for me.” I opened my legs, hesitating only a little, both looking forward to and dreading the pain I would be getting. “Look how wet you are,” he told me. And I was. I was wet enough for him to get his cock in, just from having my mouth and throat abused. He pushed in, making me wince, and started fucking me hard. He looked down at me, alternating between moaning with pleasure and grimacing from pain and discomfort. “Do you feel like a third wave feminist now?” he asked me. I said “yes,” and I did. I felt like a silly woman who gives men whatever they want under the guise of being “empowered.” In reality, I know I’m just fulfilling my role as a woman, having my holes used for the entertainment and pleasure of men.
In the middle of hurting me with his cock, he slowed and started thrusting less deeply. “See?” he said, “I can make it feel really good.” He pushed a finger in my mouth and started rubbing my clit while he was fucking me. Now I was just getting pleasure, and I started moaning a little, although I was still jumpy, sure that he was going slap me in the face at any moment. He asked me if I was going to get off, and I told him I didn’t have permission. He pointed out that I can always ask him and see what the answer might be. I asked if I could please have permission, and he asked if I was going to get off. I responded that I thought maybe I could, but that I didn’t want to take time from him doing something else. He told me that he was doing exactly what he wanted with me and I shouldn’t worry about it. “Just sit there and look pretty,” he said, making me laugh, “And laugh at my jokes.”
Well, even a dumb cunt like me can do that, so I relaxed as he started working on my clit. “Let’s bring in some help,” he said, and grabbed his Hitachi and put a condom on it. (Ladies, try not to date men who don’t own their own Hitachis.) He pressed the Hitachi against me and started fucking me again. He was giving me the D and the Hitachi. I did get close, and normally I would have been able to get off without much difficulty with treatment like that, but I’ve been having some depression-caused sex drive issues that are accompanied by orgasm difficulties. Eventually, I stopped him and explained that I didn’t think I was going to be able to get off. He was very understanding and told me I had nothing to worry about. “I was going to ruin it anyway,” he told me. What a sweet guy. How did I get so lucky?
He said he’d been getting close and started fucking me again. Looking at me, he asked, “As long as I’ve known you, you’ve given me whatever I want from you. Why?” “Because you give me a little attention,” I responded. That’s the truth. I’m desperate, and I’ll do pretty much anything a man asks of me, just for a bit of the male attention and approval I crave. Legolas commented that getting fucked hurts more when he does it from behind, and made me flip over. He pushed back into me and started fucking me, making it hurt. From behind it’s less of a mix of pleasure and pain, and more just plain suffering. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head up, his cock slamming into my cunt and making me cry out in pain.
He pulled out and tossed me a towel to put under my head. Kneeling over me, he stroked his cock while I licked his balls and rubbed my cunt. He had me stop and instructed, “Beg me not to cum on your face.” I don’t feel like I’m very good at begging, but I wasn’t about to refuse. “Please don’t cum on my face. I don’t want you to. It’s going to be a mess. Please don’t. No, please! Don’t cum on my face!” I pleaded. Legolas grabbed my head and covered my face in his cum as I begged him not to. It was incredibly hot to have him want me to ask him not to do something and then, of course, do it anyway. I really like having my desires ignored and even actively violated.
“I almost believed you didn’t want me to do it,” he said as he wiped himself off. I’m glad my begging was satisfactory, if not prizewinning. We cleaned off ourselves and I got dressed. We took the food downstairs and I did the dishes, like a woman should do. Legolas told me a couple times that he really enjoyed the evening. I did as well. I’d been feeling depressed and mopey and antisocial, and my sex drive has been mostly dead. Obviously I’m not completely fixed, but I feel rejuvenated and more like my old self. Happier.
Sometimes you just need a night of delicious vegan food, being treated like a set of holes, and getting fucked. Hard.
I get hurt pretty frequently, and that’s often done via impact play. When I saw this gifset, though, I realized that I rarely get spanked or hit on the ass, and it’s been ages since someone made me bend over their knees or lay across their lap and spanked me like a naughty little girl.
I think part of why I want to be spanked is that it can be seen as humiliating. Children get punished that way. Making me, a grown woman, bend over your knee and receive the same kind of punishment a little girl might get is insulting, infantalizing, and belittling. Especially when you run your finger along my cunt and comment on how wet I am and how much I’m enjoying it, playing with my clit and pushing your fingers into me, making me moan. Maybe you make a comment about how this is the proper punishment for me, since women are basically children, anyway. I start to protest, but you stop me and, instead, order me to agree. You spank me again until I cry out, “You’re right. Women have the emotional and intellectual abilities of children.” You stop hitting me and tell me to continue as you press a vibrator against my clit as I say “We need men to keep us in line and teach us how to behave. Spanking is the right way to punish a woman. We need the pain to drive the lesson home. Being hurt helps us learn.” As I continue speaking, saying more and more misogynistic things, you point out how much I’m moaning and whining, calling me a “gender traitor” and telling me I’m taking feminism two steps back. Finally, you tell me to cum, to get off to all of the awful things I’m saying about women. A moment later, you feel the orgasm hit me as I shake against you.
There’s also the roleplaying/ageplay related aspects of it. I could be the naughty Catholic high school girl who gets sent to the principal’s office. When I enter the room, you make me bend over your desk and spank me as punishment for talking during class. As you do, I’m ashamed to feel my pussy getting wet and warmth growing between my legs. When you’re done, you tell me my panties are a violation of the dress code, “Take them off and hand them to me.” I hesitate, knowing that if I do, you’ll feel that they’re wet. You sternly say, “Now.” And I bend down, slipping them off. When I give them to you, you feel how soaked they are. “Why are these wet? you ask, already knowing the answer. "I…I don’t know, sir,” I respond, embarassed about my arousal response to being spanked. “Bend back over the desk,” you instruct me. I comply, anxious and excited for what might come next. You begin spanking me again, this time on my bare bottom. I squirm and a moan escapes before I can stop it. I hear you chuckle softly. You run your hand down my ass and push it between my legs. I gasp, shocked that you’re touching me like that. When I start to protest, you shut me up by pushing two fingers into my aching pussy. I moan again, and you say, “What a dirty little slut you are. Pussy soaked, moaning with the principal’s fingers inside you. Tell me you’re a slut.” I hesitate, and you pull your hand away, giving me a sharp smack on the ass. “I’m a slut! I’m a slut!” I yelp. “Good,” you say. I hear the sound of a zipper and start to turn around, “Sir, what are you doing?” You grab my hair and push my head against the desk, “Did I say you could move, slut?” “No, sir,” I whimper. “Then don’t move. As for what I’m doing, I’m treating you how girls like you deserve. Giving you a punishment that might actually stick, since you’re a perverted slut and enjoy being spanked.” Before I can respond, you grab me by my hair and pull me to the ground. “Get on your knees, slut.” Shaking with arousal and not a little fear, I obey. “Now,” you say, pushing your cock between my lips, “Let’s see if you can’t do something more useful with that mouth of yours than disrupt class.”
I also like the dd/lg dynamic that could be in play for spanking. Instead of being treated like a naughty little girl, I would be a naughty little girl, getting punished in an appropriate way. Of course, after I was suitably spanked and had learned my lesson, you tease and play with my cunt and ass until I’m begging to cum. Instead, you throw me on the bed, undoing your pants. You grab me and push your cock into my tight cunt. I yelp as you start fucking me, making it hurt. I get used to the feeling and am just starting to get into it when you pull out. I whine, but then feel you pressing against my ass. I try to scramble away, but you grab me and shove into me, stretching me. I gasp and say, “No, Daddy, please! It hurts!” You ignore my begging and continue pushing into my unlubed hole. You tell me, “Hush. Be brave for Daddy. Don’t you want to be a brave, good little girl? I know you do.” I whimper, but stop begging you to stop. After a moment that feels much longer, you say, “You’re such a good girl. Daddy’s all the way inside you.” Before I can respond, you start fucking my ass, grabbing a handful of my hair, pulling my head up. I cry out, saying, “Oh, Daddy, please! It hurts so much.” But I don’t try to get away. I want to be a good girl for you. After a moment, I’m used to it enough to push back against you. At that moment, you slam into me and stay there, cumming in my tight little ass. I hear you grunt and moan, and that’s the final straw. I cum, and cum hard. As we both collapse into the bed, I say, “Thank you, Daddy.”
PS. Oops this kinda turned into a set of mini-fantasies instead of just a comment about wanting to get spanked. I’m guessing that’s okay with y'all.
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