#favorite kinks
littlefeministbitch :’-) might as well be you
This is perfect. And I love that you thought of me when you saw it. :D Thank you!
You know I don’t need a gun pointed at me for me to be ready, willing, and eager to please you.
That’s not why you do it.
You do it because of the way I react. Because of the way I look at you. Because of the way my breathing changes. Because of the way I tremble, ever so slightly.
You do it because you know I crave that heady combination of danger, fear, violence, power, and arousal. Because you know how it makes me feel. Because you know how wet my cunt gets. Because you know how much I love it.
You do it because you’re just that kind of guy.
Post link
I’ve given Reaction Junkie control over my bladder whenever we’re together/in the same physical space. So when we went to his friend’s birthday party on Saturday afternoon, I knew I was going to have to ask his permission to pee. We got to the party and I foolishly drank a pop, then a couple glasses of wine. I could feel myself starting to have to go, and I figured I’d ask before it got too urgent, since I had a feeling the initial answer would be “No.”
And of course, I was correct. Not only did he say “No,” he also told me, “Ask again in an hour.” I briefly whined, but the pressure wasn’t too bad, so I went back to my conversation. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I started actually needing to go, but I knew it wasn’t an hour. By this point, quite a few more people had arrived at the party, including Anderson Cooper and the lady dom I’d gone to the spa with. I sidled up to Reaction Junkie, who was talking to Anderson Cooper, and asked permission.
“No,” he responded, and then added “Jump up and down." "Noooo,” I whined. “Is she talking back?” asked Anderson Cooper, being mischievous/an ass. “No…” I said, although, yes, I was. But I didn’t want to misbehave, especially not in front of a group of people. So when Reaction Junkie told me, “Do ten jumping jacks," I complied. "How do you feel now?” he asked when I was done. “Better, thanks,” I replied. That wasn’t a complete lie, and I returned to my conversation suitably distracted for a while.
I asked again not too long after, and this time Reaction Junkie said I could go if I went outside. He thought that was a hilarious option, and even asked the woman whose house we were at if that was okay. I pouted and continued talking with people, but I was starting to really need to go. Finally, I turned to Reaction Junkie and said, “I can go if I go outside?” He confirmed that I could, but when he double-checked with the people who lived there, we got a no go on me pissing in their backyard.
I bounced and asked, “Has it been an hour?” It had, but he wanted to make me wait longer. “It’s 5:23,” he told me. “Can you wait until 6:00?” I told him that no, I could not. “How about 5:30?” I started to say that I couldn’t wait that long, but that wasn’t true, so I told him I could. He told me I could go. Before he let me, though, he was going to have some more fun with me. He started pressing on my bladder, which not only made my need to piss worse, but it turned me on. I moaned softly and whimpered at him, enjoying the pain/pleasure of having my full bladder compressed. It’s one of the most arousing things someone can do to me.
He was talking to other people, and told them “I don’t know why she gave me this power, but she did!” Obviously, I gave him that power because I knew it would result in lots of fun for me and for him. And, of course, I was right. He finally let me get up to go to the bathroom, but before he did, he grabbed me around the midsection and squeezed hard one last time, making me groan and shiver a little before I said, “You’re gonna need to stop.” He nearly made me piss myself. He stopped and told me to go, and I skipped off to the bathroom, super pleased to have had one of my favorite kinks satisfied.
Boredom allows creativity. Fortunately for me, it leads my husband to find new and creative ways to play with me. I text him that I’m bored at work and he instructs me to find binder clips to attach to my nipples. We were bored at a party over the weekend. The party was boring and full of self-important people. I didn’t want to be rude and leave so soon after arriving and husband was willing to indulge me up to a point.
Halfway through the three hours we were there he instructs me to drink two more bottles of water. He’s so thoughtful. After chugging them down I get up to go find a bathroom and he grabs my wrist. He looks at me and says that I don’t have permission to go. I sit back down and my bladder is uncomfortable and swollen and I start bouncing in my seat to distract myself from the feeling. I make small talk with random people for the next hour and a half and I continue to feel more and more uncomfortable. Husband smirks his way through the rest of the party. We finally leave and start the long slow drive back to our house, hitting every pothole on the way.
We pull up to our house and I’m out of the car before it even stops. I race up to the door and then stand there stupidly. I don’t have the key. I hop from one foot to the other, urging husband to hurryhurryhurry.
He ignores my pleading. He stops at the door and instead of opening it, he turns to me and tells me to piss myself. I laugh it off because that’s completely ridiculous. The bathroom is literally ten feet away! If I held it this long I can hold it till he opens the door. He crosses his arms over his chest and silently stares me down. I hop on my feet and stare back. He leans against the door and waits. I finally realize he isn’t joking and stop hopping. I let go and my face burns with shame and embarrassment. It runs down my legs and pools in my shoes. I look down because I can’t look him in the eye anymore. And then I hear the door open and he’s already stepped through it. He didn’t wait for me to finish.
Unf. So fucking hot. Bladder control and desperation are at the top of my list of kinks.
At least they know their place, next time it will be permanent marker!
Love markings like this.
Proper labeling is important. Otherwise it might get confused and forget what it’s for.
So hot
Body writing is one of those kinks I really like, but I don’t get to do enough. I should ask someone to make me write things on myself/write on me for or at the next happy hour or event.
I know, I know. I could always just pick something and do it of my own accord, but everything’s more fun when someone orders you to do it.
Post link
Before happy hour last night, Reaction Junkie and I attempted to go to this awesome new vegan place in the city. I led us on a wild goose chase to the location that was 1) Farther away from where happy hour is and 2) Not even open yet. Sigh. I was pretty embarrassed/mad at myself and decided to go to the location near happy hour (and by near it is literally a 1 minute walk from where happy hour is and you can see it from happy hour and oh gods I’m so bad at life sometimes) by myself and let Reaction Junkie start his night. As soon as my food came I cheered right the fuck up. A chicken burger with ranch, buffalo chicken wings, and spicy chocolate cake? Yes please! So fucking awesome.
When I got to happy hour, I was still feeling a little socially uncomfortable, so i drank my first drink pretty quickly, and wandered over to talk to people. MLAM had texted me about a girl, Pearl, who was new to happy hour and she and I had talked a little via text. When I found her, Reaction Junkie had already figured out who she was, and we all started talking. She’s great! She was fun to talk to, engaged, and interesting. MLAM is kind of ridiculous, helping me make a friend even when he’s not there. In fact, part of my conversation with her resulted in me talking to even more people and making more new friends, so he helped me make more than one friend.
After a little while, we all headed upstairs to watch Reaction Junkie tie up Kitten. While we watched, I started chatting with Pearl and other people, and by the end of the evening, we’d all (including Reaction Junkie and Kitten) bonded over the idea of sneaky drinking in public and wandering around the city some weekend soon. Reaction Junkie doesn’t drink (Useful! It’s one of the reasons I keep him around.), so he will be tasked with herding us cats, but he likes cats, so that’s all good.
Towards the end of the evening, The Violinist dragged me away to do a mini scene. He’d gotten me in rope for a little while on Saturday before I had to abort the scene, and was eager to get me in it again, because, as he said, “You really like being in rope, I could tell at the start.” He tied my arms behind my back and then made fun of me for being so turned on and grinding against him while straddling him. He teased me, both physically and mentally, hurt me, scratched me, grabbed me, bit me hard enough and long enough to leave marks, and kissed me a lot.
During our aborted scene on Saturday, The Violinist told me that he wanted to spend more time with me. The way he said it made me think he’d been thinking about it for at least a little while, and I was super happy to hear him say it. I definitely squeed inside. I told him I’d like to spend more time with him, as well. I think my dynamic with him is becoming more of a dating/relationship/partner thing than just (not just in a bad way, play partners are awesome!) a play partner thing.
So, while we were playing at happy hour, I was thinking about that, and about the fact that he’s leaving soon for a two week long road trip. As we made out and The Violinist hurt me, I said that I would miss him while he was gone. He kind of laughed at me, gave me a look, kissed me, and then said, “I suppose I’ll kind of miss you, too.” I grinned and looked at him, skeptical about the qualifications. I told him he should text me and that I’d send nudes whenever he wanted. He considered this and said I better do it every day. He gave me an assignment! I love assignments! Being given small, fairly simple tasks to do, especially to do daily, is something I really like. Assignments serve as a nice reminder of my role that I can get even when I’m not physically with a partner, and I feel warm and subby when I am given one, and then again, while I’m completing it.
The Violinist and I made out, talked, and cuddled until it was time to go to the fast food place next door. I said a final goodbye to him and headed over. There was more fun conversation to be had there, and then Reaction Junkie, Kitten, and I grabbed the train back to Reaction Junkie’s place. We’d had plans for a while to do another cuddle sleepover with all three of us, so this time I was prepared and ready. When we got on the train, there weren’t any spots where three open seats were near each other, but a guy got up and gave us his seat, so we all got to sit together. Reaction Junkie was oh so pleased for bringing home to sexy women. He’s pretty adorable.
We had some more great, if possibly too loud, conversation on the train on the way home. We got back and got ready for bed, and then started discussing sleeping arrangements. I had said I wanted to be in the middle, and I stuck with that. Normally I’m actually somewhat uncomfortable cuddling with people I’m not having sex with, for whatever reason (physical affection-deprived childhood??? weird issues with touching people??? idk), but this time I decided just to try it and see how I’d feel. Kitten was the littlest spoon, then me, then Reaction Junkie. I put my arm around Kitten and Reaction Junkie put his arm around both of us. I felt surprisingly at ease and comfortable with the physical contact. We flipped around a couple times, and got hella warm because there were three of us in bed, but I really enjoyed it. Kitten told me the next morning that I’m comfortable, which made me happy. She’s awful comfortable, too.
This situation with Kitten and Reaction Junkie is basically perfect training wheels to deal with jealousy and figuring out my feelings and how to be comfortable being around a partner and a metamour. She’s not exactly a metamour since she isn’t looking for a relationship and isn’t poly, which makes it easier to sort out my reactions. We’re going to have another cuddle threesome on Friday. This time, instead of feeling somewhat negatively about it, like the first time, or mostly neutral, like on Tuesday, I’m really looking forward to it.
Daily Picture Assignment #41
While I haven’t been keeping up with these pictures as well as I should be, I have been very good about something else. In another DPA I decided to change my workplace pissing habits. Previously I didn’t have to ask Reaction Junkie for permission to pee while at work. Now I do. Each time I need to piss, I have to text him to ask, “May I please pee?”
For practicality’s sake, if he doesn’t respond to my text within half an hour, I’m allowed to go, but there’s still a challenge there. I don’t want to ask permission before I actually really do need to pee. That defeats the purpose. But I also need to ask early enough that if he doesn’t respond, I can wait the half hour. It’s a delightful balancing act that leaves me desperate, wiggling, shifting uncomfortably, and trying to distract myself so I can hold it for the next five, ten, or twenty minutes.
Sometimes he responds unexpectedly fast. In those cases, I try to finish however much water I have left in my huge one litre Camelbak and wait until the need to pee is more urgent before I get up and head to the bathroom, to sort of make up for the fact that I got permission earlier than absolutely necessary. When I told Reaction Junkie about that, he said, “Good girl,” and it made my pussy twitch. I’m not sure I’ve been doing it every single time he’s responded more quickly than I thought he would, but I’m certainly going to do so now.
Of course, he doesn’t always just say “Yes” when I ask if I may pee. As Reaction Junkie said to me, if he said yes every time, “it would become perfunctory." Sometimes he tells me "No,” but more often he tells me at what time I’m allowed to piss. Late last week, for example, I texted him at 12:11 asking for permission. A minute later he texted back, “1230, slut.” I gasped and moaned a little at my desk, even more turned on than usual by the addition of degradation and name calling to the bladder control and desperation.
Sometimes when he gives me a time at which I’m allowed to go, he also offers me an alternative, some task to perform or action to take. If I choose to do it (If he’s given me a choice. Once in a while it’s a condition of being allowed to pee, no other option.), I’m may piss as soon as I’ve done so. Occasionally it’s something terribly embarrassing, like asking my boss for permission to go to the bathroom. Once I had to do 25 squats while pressing on my bladder. More recently, he’s started using his control over my bladder to get me to do things he wants me to do or that I need to do, such as text a friend to set up a time to hang out, or send an email I’ve been putting off.
When he denies my request, makes me wait until later, calls me names, or makes me beg, my cunt clenches and my head buzzes a little with subspacey delight. Using his control over me to make me do things I’ve been procrastinating on or I’m hesitant to do in order to earn the right to piss is a perfect way for him to reinforce his orders. It helps me learn my place and teaches me to do as he says, even at other times, as I become conditioned to obey him.
I love that we’re doing this additional bladder control and desperation. As I go about my day, I’m mindful of the fact that I have to ask him if I may piss. Because of this, I have to actively think about my place in our relationship whenever I need to use the bathroom, whenever I drink my water, whenever I refill the bottle, whenever I go into a meeting. It’s a constant reminder that he has such ownership and control over me that even my most basic bodily functions are subject to his will. It’s impossible to forget that, even for a moment.
Reaction Junkie owns me, I have submitted to him, and I have given up power over myself to him. He has complete control over me everywhere, even at work. This was all true before, but now I am consciously aware of it throughout the entire workday.
Post link
