#fuck with my feminism
My Boss gave me an instruction for today: Be girly.
I should try to be attractive to as many men (and other people) as possible. I should especially strive to be attractive to the people I’m involved with. And if that requires being made to wear makeup and femme-ier clothes, I’m happy to do so. In fact, I’m sure I’ll learn to enjoy it.
So here I am, dressed in a skirt and heels. Not only that, I’m wearing lipstick to work, possibly for the first time ever.
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I snuck into the planning office for the campus Take Back the Night rally, and made a few adjustments to the booths they had planned. After all, I had put so much effort into claiming the night. I’m not going to let some uppity cunts steal it from me.
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‘I can’t wait for you to tell me funny feminist things while kneeling in front of me and I slap you after each one.’
I went cold. How could Daddy say that… he knows how strongly I believe in the feminist cause, in how we still have to fight for what we deserve. He knows how deep it runs and how I have no qualms with reconciling feminism with my submission.
‘Daddy… the other day when you were teaching me and you said that what I said was dumb… something happened… I got all, you know, Igotreallywet. …why??’
‘Because you’re a strong independent woman… haha’
'Daddy?! Wha… you didn't…’
‘I made a funny joke.’
'Daddy… my poor feminist ego’
‘I have plans for your feminist ego.’
I couldn’t understand what was happening. I hadn’t been this wet in so so long. Which really is saying something. I could barely string two words together. I was beyond flustered and turned on.
‘Here’s what we’re going to do. You kneel in front of me with that plug in your ass. You tell me a funny feminist thing and I’ll slap you after each one. I might do something nice for you while I wait for you to stop crying and get back up. I might rub your cunt with the toe of my shoe.’
'Daddy… but tha-’
‘But you will tell me those jokes with a slight modification. You can tell me some more silly feminist things about women being smart equal etc, pick yourself up off the floor, then say ‘except that they’re dumb cunts.’ Understand?’
'You’ve never… that… I ca-’
‘For example, ‘women are every bit as smart as men…’ *smack* some crying, ‘…except that they’re dumb cunts.’ And then I’ll let you cum while you tell me that women are just worthless pieces of meat when they don’t have a cock in them.’
I could not process what was happening. Daddy was always telling me how proud of me he was, how my submission is strength, that it’s powerful, that Dominance and submission are the opposite sides of the same coin. I wanted to be upset, wanted to feel betrayed and outraged… but I could not deny the humiliating wetness between my legs and the burning desire to play with myself. At this point, I was barely forming coherent thoughts and managed to tell him so….
‘haha, you’re cute, thinking you have something worthwhile to say when we talk about other things.’
‘My cunt is throbbing… like actually. I don’t understand.’
‘You’ve spent so much of your life as a worthless empty cunt, not being used for the purpose you were created for. But we are fixing that problem. Tell me some funny feminist jokes, cunt. Now.’
It took me a long time to bring myself to say it. I felt like I was betraying, not just women, but myself. I was selling out on what I am, what I stand for.
It took me all night to realise something… that what I am is an owned little cunt who exists solely to please her owner.
‘You will send me funny jokes all day as I work, slut. I will be very displeased if you fail. I will train you. Like a dog who is taught to fetch the newspaper. Do you understand or do I need to use smaller words?’
—
It is good that women have the right to vote in developed countries… except they’re dumb cunts.
Women deserve to express their sexuality freely and without fear… except they’re dumb cunts.
Women are every bit as smart as men… except they’re dumb cunts.
The real problem with the world is that there are women who actually believe the stupid shit I’ve been saying.
Daddy still makes me tell him funny feminist jokes sometimes, when he feels like it. It still makes me all tingly.
Jennifer Green was once a promising young gender studies grad student, specializing in patriarchy theory. Only 23 years old, she nonetheless had 3 publications, one of which was hailed as revolutionary just three years before the true Patriarchy came to pass. Green watched in horror as the Patriarchy, a monster which had previously only been a fantasy in the minds of her and other delusional and moronic Feminists, came to reality. She tried to carry on and fight the Patriarchy, but it turned out that when faced with actual oppression, she was too frightened to do anything. She’d loved to fight against made-up oppression of women, but the real thing made her realize how weak of a woman she truly was.
She tried to keep her head down and continue at least some small part of her work, but soon received a memo from the university administration explaining that all gender studies majors, grad students, and professors were being …reassigned“. Specifically, it stated that they would all now be employed as fuckpuppets to help male students burn off steam. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it stated that they would be forced to diet and exercise, and possibly be surgically altered, so they could better fulfill this purpose.
“Let’s face it, if any men wanted to fuck you the way you look currently, you wouldn’t work in gender studies” the memo had read, mockingly. The whole department sat around the office, late into the night, stunned. After tearful goodbyes and reminiscing about better days, they all agreed they would hand in their resignations and/or withdraw from classes the next day. They wanted no part of this rape culture.
The next day, when they handed in their resignations, the university’s president had smiled at them. He informed them that they were no longer legally allowed to end their employment, congress had quietly voted this into law a few days earlier. The woman began screaming at the president that he couldn’t do this, while he calmly called the police. They grabbed the screaming women, beating those that resisted, and threw them in a paddy wagon (Green hadn’t even realized the campus police had paddy wagons). During the drive, many of the women began receiving calls from hysterical students, crying about how they tried to withdraw from classes but couldn’t because of some new law. Nobody knew what to say. It was just too unbelievable.
After a surprisingly short journey, the paddy wagon stopped and the doors opened. They ordered the women to get out and stand in a line. Green realized they were still on campus, right by the psychology building, which the women were herded into.
They were escorted to a basement level of the building, and unceremoniously shoved into a small cell, presumably leftover from some psychological experiment about the effects of incarceration, Green had thought. They sat fearfully in silence, while one by one their names were called in alphabetical order. Their terror grew with each passing woman who was taken, as the ones who had gone before her did not return. When Green’s name was called, she considered running, but all the fight in her was gone. She did as the cop ordered, hanging her head and walking slowly (but not slowly enough to anger the cop) to her fate, whatever that was.
When they reached one of the larger rooms, the cop shoved her inside, then a thin man in glasses walked over to her.
“Ah, Ms. Green” he said. “Please remove your clothes.”“Wh-what?” Green replied, shaking in fear. In spite of all that had happened, she still couldn’t believe it.
“Your clothes. Remove them.” He said, visibly irritated at having to repeat himself.
“No!” Green screamed. She knew it was pointless, but her response was instinctual. She did not want to have her clothes removed or to be subjected to whatever this sick bastard was planning.
The bespectacled man calmly turned to the police officer, and said …Remove her clothes and strap her down“.
Green turned and tried to run, but almost immediately felt the crushing weight of the police officer tackling her. She tried to struggle, but it was useless, the police officer soon removed her clothing, and showed no hesitation in twisting her arms or otherwise harming her in the process. She felt sick as she felt the cop’s cock hardening against her as he did so. He did not let her up immediately after her clothes were removed, instead taking a moment to grope her ass and tits. Then he hefted her up, threw her on the table, and strapped her in.
“What the fuck are you going to do to me you sick bastard fuck?” Green screamed as the doctor looked on dispassionately. She struggled against her restraints, but it was no use. She kept trying, however, as her mind had given up all thought of rational, long-term self-preservation, and was dedicated entirely to getting her out of this particular situation as fast as possible.
“You will be administered an experimental drug called Bimbnil” said the doctor.
“What the fuck is that oh my god how is this legal what the fuck?” screamed Green.
“It lowers higher reasoning and language capabilities, heightens estrogen production, and increases sex drive. It also makes the person highly susceptible to suggestion. It’s effects are,” the doctor paused, smiling “permanent”.
“No, no, no, no, oh god no no no no why fuck you” screamed Green.
“We can continue this conversation after the procedure, Ms. Green. I think you’ll be much more pleasant to speak to then”.
With that, the doctor slammed a metal gag into her mouth, and grabbed a tube coming from a large metal tank nearby. He jammed the tube down her throat, whispered …I’ll be jamming my cock down your throat in an hour or two, you fucking cunt“ in Green’s ear, and hit a button. A pump within the tank roared to life, and Green felt liquid pouring down her throat. She didn’t know if it was placebo or if the drug really did act immediately, but she already felt her resistance weakening, her desire to wait on men increasing, her libido rising. Her mind disappearing. With tears streaming down her face, Green said goodbye, knowing that after they turned the pump off, she’d be dead, and a misogynistic male fantasy just like the ones she’d always railed against would be there instead.
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As I was getting ready to Skype with MLAM today, I was looking at what I was wearing. It was a shirt from Sexual Assault Prevention Week at my undergrad, and on the front it says “If you see something, say something.” It’s just a unisex tshirt I was wearing to put together a couch. Not attractive. Normally I would have taken it off and been naked, or put on something cute. But that shirt reminded me of another one I have, from a different Sexual Assault Prevention Week.
That one says “Consent is Sexy” and I thought “Oh. I’ll put that on. I bet he’ll like it and/or make a comment about it and that will be fun.” Again I underestimate him. He knew I’d worn it for a reason. He informed me that I’m going to cut it up and make it into a sexier cut, a croptop, a shirt with a racerback, something much more attractive than a blah unisex cut. In addition to that, I’m going to cut fabric above the word “Consent” into the letters “NON,” so that the shirt will read “Nonconsent is sexy."
I told him that I wanted to say no (but of course wouldn’t and lol who cares if I do, I have to do it anyway), because the shirt is a memento of my time in undergrad. He smiled and said "I know. I like fucking with your past, too.” Excellent point, sir. He owns me. That means he owns my past, he owns my present, and he owns my future.
He makes me admit women deserved to be raped whenever I’m underneath him, being bred like the empty fuckhole I am
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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Breastie is brilliant and mean. That was related to nothing we’d been talking about. She just came up with it out of nowhere. She could fuck a cunt up for sure.
I told Breastie that I “guess” I would. That’s not true. To quote MLAM, “there’s only one answer [I] could possibly give.” Of course I would vote republican if he told me to. The knowledge that I would vote however MLAM told me to vote hit me pretty hard. It makes me feel weak. I feel his ownership intensely. I’m a complete failure as a feminist, and as a person. I have no real core values besides pleasing him. And all that makes me feel incredibly aroused, and, in turn, ashamed.
I’ve clearly accepted his claim on me completely, if I would do that. Voting for a party that I intensely dislike would be entirely different from the name calling, the piss drinking, the asking men for permission to cum, the getting used without regard for my preferences, all of that. I can pretend those things are just me expressing my sexuality as an empowered feminist woman, and anyone who disagrees is just a kinkshaming second-waver who just doesn’t understand.
This, though? It’s not only obviously anti-feminist, it’s anti-woman, anti-gay, anti-POC, anti-environment, anti-all the people and issues I claim to care about. It’s something I couldn’t undo or reframe and it does have an effect, however small, on the real world.. And I would do it. Just because a man I’ve known for all of three months told me to, and I’m desperate to please him.
Knowing I’m really and truly a toy for him to take pleasure in, however he wants, makes my fuckhole clench and my head spin. I masturbated at work for a little while, thinking about all the terrible things he could say and do to me with the fact that I voted republican.
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Honestly, there isn’t really a book that helped me discover feminism. Not that I can think of. My feminism just came naturally, being raised in a household with two working parents who have an amazingly egalitarian relationship and going to a hippy dippy school. High school was Catholic, but still, the girls were definitely not seen as less capable than the boys, at least in the classroom. Then n undergrad I found a bunch of queer, feministy people and took some courses that solidified my beliefs. I can see if I can find the syllabus for the Intro to Women’s Studies class that really pushed me to start being active and outspoken in my feminism. If I can find it, I’ll print it out and do something depraved to it, if people want to see that.
When I went to rinse the ashes out of my mouth, The Super Sadist told me to clean myself out so he could use my ass. It (oh gods this is embarrassing) took a long time. Too long. When I came out, The Super Sadist was waiting. He put a knife up to my neck, threatening me. I was immediately compliant as he duct taped my arms together behind my back. He made me get on my knees and lick his balls. When he was hard again, he pushed me over. My hands were behind my back, so my face pressed against the carpet as he pushed his cock onto my ass. There was no lube. I whimpered, but didn’t try to get away. There wouldn’t have been any point in trying, anyway. He fucked my ass hard, using my bound hands as leverage as he thrust into me. “I knew ass raping a feminist would be a good game,” he growled, making me squirm and struggle and moan.
He didn’t cum while using my ass. No, he had another, more degrading, more uncomfortable idea. He grabbed the copy of the SCUM Manifesto that I bought for him while in San Francisco and sat down in a chair. Motioning me to kneel between his legs, he had me use my mouth on his balls while he read to me from the book, laughing at the stupidity of a woman proclaiming the inferiority of men and reversing the genders to make the book an accurate depiction of reality: “The [female] is completely egocentric, trapped inside [herself], incapable of empathizing or identifying with others, or love, friendship, affection of tenderness. [She] is a completely isolated unit, incapable of rapport with anyone. [Her] responses are entirely visceral, not cerebral; [her] intelligence is a mere tool in the services of [her] drives and needs; [she] is incapable of mental passion, mental interaction; [she] can’t relate to anything other than [her] own physical sensations.”
He came on the cover of the book, and then had me wait while he cleaned himself off. I knew what was going to happen next. One of the first things I saw him post was about wanting to make a girl snort cum off of a feminist book of some sort. He floated the idea of doing it off the SCUM Manifesto and, in fact, that was the reason I bought it for him. When he came back, he’d cut up a straw. He used one of my loyalty cards to scrape the cum together into two lines. I hesitated and made conversation to stall, but eventually I had to do the inevitable.
While The Super Sadist recorded the event on video, I put the straw in my right nostril, lowered the tip to one of the lines of cum, pinched my nose shut, and breathed in sharply. I sucked up the whole line and then repeated the process for the other side. It wasn’t as painful as I thought it might be, but doing it off of that book while The Super Sadist recorded it and laughed made it humiliating. He went to have a cigarette and told me that he would let me blow my nose once he was done. I accompanied him, but decided not to take him up on that. Having the smell of his cum in my nose for the rest of the day seemed appropriate and fitting.
While we were outside, we were talking and he said something provoking. I jokingly went to punch his arm, although I didn’t. When I told him I’d considered doing that and then thought better of it, he said he’d seen that. Feeling impish, I said, “You should probably punish me for thinking about doing it.” I thought he might punch me in the arm or kick me or something. Instead, without warning, he socked me right in the stomach. Oof. I bent double, clutching my midsection, and looked up at him. He was laughing at my surprise and pain. It was ridiculously hot.
When he finished smoking, we headed back inside to get ready to go to dinner. We went into the bathroom to shower together and he told me to get on my knees. I thought he was just going to piss on me. Once again, I had underestimated him. This time he was going to do something much more violating and degrading and humiliating. He made me bend forward and spread my ass for him as much as I could. I winced and whimpered as he started pissing into my ass. It wasn’t just the stinging sensation from the urine hitting my roughly fucked hole. He was making me spread myself open for him so that he could use me as a toilet. I’m a toy for him and all of my holes are available to him for use in any way. I felt exposed and degraded as he finished pissing into me, leaving me face down in his piss.
We showered, got dressed, and smoked weed in preparation for delicious vegan food. Then we headed out the door. On the way to and from the restaurant we had great conversation about all kinds of things. When we got to the restaurant, we ordered our delicious vegan food. I got buffalo wings and he got BBQ tofu. Then, on the way out, I got a cupcake and a cookie. We shared the cookie back at his place and I had the cupcake in the airport. Everything was amazing and delicious and I’m so happy he was willing to go eat rabbit food with me.
While we were at the restaurant, I said something silly and he called me “Stupid.” Being called stupid in public like that turned me on like crazy and I could feel my cunt clench. I like being insulted and treated poorly in public, although I especially enjoy it at kink events because I don’t want to actually do anything that might make someone uncomfortable in a vanilla setting. It reminds me of my place, and I like that people can see that I’m the depraved kind of person who likes being treated like that.
When we got back to his place, we Skyped with Marxman for a little while. The Super Sadist was doing something on the other side of the room while I started the call. After we had talked for a minute or two, Marxman commented to The Super Sadist, “She’s flinching and following you around the room with your eyes.” The Super Sadist looked very pleased with himself as he said, “Yeah. She’s been doing that.” Being in that state of mind suits me quite well. Having a heightened awareness of him and his movements means that I’m in a good mental place, that he’s been hurting, using, and scaring me in the right ways.
The Super Sadist started hitting me, and, after we got off Skype, he “forced” me to smoke more pot than I had been. We both got rull high. We cuddled and fucked and cuddled. While we were cuddling and waiting for the taxi to come take me away, we were looking at each other and I was actually making eye contact. Normally I don’t, not for a long time, but I felt comfortable with him. He noticed the change and said, “I think this is the longest you’ve made eye contact with me.” I was being silly, so I replied, “It’s cuz I’m not scared of you any more.” He looked at more more intensely, and I kept it up until he broke me by saying, “Is it too gay if I tell you you have really pretty eyes?” The ridiculous way he’d phrased it, and the compliment itself, made me giggle and look down, feeling embarrassed in an adorable, happy sort of way.
Finally the taxi came and we said our goodbyes. I was sad to leave, but very, very glad that I decided to make the trip there. I had a fuckton of fun, was happy to have been useful to my new owner, and really enjoyed getting to know him even better.
i’m such a good little whore. i love dick. i love sucking dick. i have no purpose except to take dick however men want to give it to me. cum in my hair piss in myeye show me what you really think of me. i love it.
What we really think of you? That’s a complicated question. When we see someone like you, someone with little to no morals and only driven by the desire to please men, you turn us into an altered state. So often we have to go through our daily life pretending to be perfectly respectable human beings when all we want to do is exact what you’re offering us. You make us hungry. You make us lustful to sate our desires with someone that is all to willing to fill the hole in their heart with the abuse of men. In doing so, we can’t see you as perfectly respectable human beings because it’s your fault we are as we are. If you weren’t a traitor to your gender, we’d cope. There’d be outliers, but feminism would be so much further without you fucking it up for everyone.
tl;dr we love your body but hate your mind.
So, the Monday before last, Legal Lolita and I went to a private rope event at Legolas’ place. We got instructions on what to wear from C4, although really, I would have worn basically the same thing I ended up wearing.
When we got there, I immediately removed my heels because heels make me feel silly a lot of the time. We got introduced to a few people, and chatted a little bit. One of the guys there was introduced to us as “The best rigger in the city…when he’s in the city,” so, basically one of the very best around.
He said he was going to teach people how to do a TK, with a modification he’d made when his bottom had said it wasn’t hard enough. Legolas poked at me to come get tied for this one, and I got up and followed him. We’d texted a bit about what I was looking for, and I said I liked having it be difficult to breathe, painful ties, and being off balance. This fit the bill wonderfully. As he was getting me tied in to the hard point he asked me how it was and I said that it wasn’t too bad. The guy who was teaching commented that that sounded like a challenge. Nope. Not me. Not once, not ever. He had me on my toes, and then tied one of my legs up. I believe I said at that point “not mean enough,” and he pulled me up some more until mmph. It was difficult to breathe and I couldn’t stay stable, and it was not at all comfortable. Mean enough. :D
After Legolas was done with me, I sat around for a while, made an attempt at learning, and ate. After a while, C4 arrived, and asked if he could tie me up. I had to wait and play photographer for Legal Lolita, so we sat for a while talking and him petting me until I was able to snap some shots of her looking lovely in rope. They kept hanging out, and C4 and I went back to the couch. We were talking and he was being dommy and stuff and it was great fun. The only thing that rubbed me the wrong way was when he said something about my pleasure being a mere byproduct of men’s pleasure, and I responded in agreement, saying that my pleasure is an “emergent property” of men’s pleasure. That got me chastised. He’s real big on me not thinking while I’m subbing. Now, don’t get me wrong, part of why I like being in that role is that it lets me give up control and planning to someone else. However, a big part of the reason I like kink is that it makes me think. Not to mention, I’m quite intelligent and can be very entertaining. Intellectual pleasure is just as important as sexual and physical pleasure. If you’re going to use me, use my body AND mind, why dontcha? (Not to be all dualist. You know what I mean.)
C4 tied me and was suitably mean, tightening it around my chest when I said it could be tighter and passed it through my legs and made it fairly uncomfortable to sit. He said some lovely mean things to me, as well.
At some point, Legal Lolita and I swapped men. She and C4 were together on the couch, and I was sitting on the floor. Legolas grabbed my hair and pulled me over to him, which is a move I adore. We spent a little while talking about things, and about him fucking my ass later. After a little while, things started winding down, and when the last person left, Legal Lolita and I definitely give each other looks. I was very interested to see what was going to happen next.
We headed upstairs, to Legolas’ room and the guys discussed what to do with us. Eventually, it was decided, and they tied us back to back against the stripper pole, with our arms up above our heads. Each of them grabbed a Hitachi and went to work. I had Legolas at this point, and he started using the vibrator and his hands on me and being degrading and awful. It was going really well and then all of a sudden I heard Legal Lolita crying. I had no idea what had happened, and Legolas and I stopped for a minute. I could kind of hear them talking, but still wasn’t sure what had happened. Legolas took my arms down from being up over my head, and by the time I finally figured out that C4 had slapped Legal Lolita, I realized that she probably did not want him to be the one comforting her. I almost said something but was still kind of frozen. Finally, I went over to her and asked her if she wanted me. She did, and I put my still tied together wrists over her head and hugged her while she cried. She seemed to be coming out of being upset, and when she blew her nose and it was so very loud, we all laughed, which seemed to break the tension. We went back to playing, which I now know may not have been the best choice, because what had happened wasn’t just that she’d cried from a slap, but that she’d been triggered, and he hadn’t asked about slapping before doing it. It’s not my experience to wrire about, though.
Legal Lolita and I both got back into position, and I asked Legolas to be mean to me for a minute so that I could get back in the right headspace. He told me that he was going to use me and then toss me out into the street without my clothes. “It’s a rough street. You won’t last 20 minutes,” he said. Hhhng. So hot. That got me back in and he continued saying delightfully cruel things to me until I asked him for permission to cum. He gave it to me, and when it was over, he kept the wand on me and asked if I could go for another. I often can’t, and that was the first time I’d ever had an orgasm standing up. But then I realized that I was still crazy turned on, and he got me off a second time. Fuck. Thank you, mister.
We switched the guys again at that point, and C4 told me he wanted what he didn’t get in the bathroom. He started using a Hitachi on me at one point, and tried to force an orgasm out of me. I eventually had to tell him to stop because it was painful and wasn’t going to happen. He apparently hadn’t realized I’d already had two, and understood why I stopped him when I explained. He turned to Legolas and said something like “You took all the fun.” Legolas was all “wevs.”
But he hadn’t taken all the fun! Because then C4 started fucking my cunt, and his cock felt great. I had previously told him I didn’t want to get choked out, but while he was using my hole, I changed my mind and asked him to do it. That was something of a mistake on my part. See, I had a previous boyfriend decide to wake me up with piv when we’d only really discussed waking each other up with hands and mouths. At the time, I was okay, but afterwards, thinking about it, it made me fairly upset. Now I don’t like the idea of waking up to piv in progress. It doesn’t cause me to panic, but it leaves me with a dirty, off kilter feeling to think about it.
I didn’t think things through, but when I came to from being choked, it was akin to waking up to piv. I had to have C4 stop for a minute while I processed things. I think I might be done with being choked out for a while. Except for MLAM. I want him to choke me out, especially now that I know I like it a lot.
C4 and I kept playing, with the sounds of Legal Lolita getting off like whoa in the background. During the play, C4 told me not to apologize, which was a strange thing to me. If I fuck up while I’m in that place, I should apologize, right?.Plus, I apologize too much in real life. It would definitely be an interesting experience to try not to apologize, especially since my reaction to being told “Stop saying you’re sorry” is to say “Oops. I’m sorry!”
After a little while of C4 fucking me, I heard Legolas say something about dping “the stupid one.” (Thats me!) C4 agreed, and Legolas checked in with me and asked if I was up for it, and I somewhat nervously/hesitantly said I was up for trying. They both instantly reassured me that I could say red at any time, and they wouldn’t be grumps about it. C4 asked what Legal Lolita was going to do while this was happening. He suggested she put them in me, and she started to hesitantly agree when I jumped in. I couldn’t tell for sure how she felt about it, but I sure as hell knew how I felt. “No!” Legal Lolita said she’d watch, “for science.”
People shuffled around and I was on top of C4 with his cock in my pussy. Legolas asked if I I was ready, and I said yes. He paused and then asked “Is your ass ready, or are you stupid enough to have me fuck you dry?” I am not that stupid. C4 told me to ask nicely to have Legolas get me ready, and I did. I was all prepared to have two cocks in me, but it didn’t happen. My ass was too tight, and things were just not cooperating. C4 kept fucking me for a while, and at one point Legolas was using my mouth and C4 was using my cunt, which was an interesting experience.
Eventually, Legolas wanted my ass. He roughly pushed me around the bed, and had me lay sideways and prepare myself. Goddamn. He always reminds me that I love anal. His cock felt great going in and in and this time, in this position, I did manage to take all of it. I’m pretty happy with myself for that. I still need work, though.
He fucked me hard and rough and it was fantastic. At one point, he pushed in and it was a bit much and his response to my reaction was, “Ask me to fuck you harder.” So I did. Jesus fuck that was hot. It did hurt somewhat towards the end, and although I made some sounds, when he asked if they were complaints, I said no. He responded that was good, because he doesn’t care. At one point be told me, “Shut. Up. This isn’t about you.” I fucking loved that. While he was using my hole, he was making some very sexy noises, too. When he was about to cum, he pulled out and gave me the promised facial.
While he was stroking his cock, he looked me in the eyes and told me that he hated me. That he didn’t respect me. That I was just a traitor to my gender. He said very mean, harsh things, and it turned me on so fucking much. I absolutely loved it. He came all over my face. A lot.
He got up and said, “How do you feel?” I could only respond “Used.” He told me, “Well, you look used.” I was just completely spent from the rope and the orgasms and the piv and the anal and the things he’d said and I just laid there, used up.
Legolas tossed a towel at me, and I was going to ask C4 to cum on my face as well, since that’s what I’d offered MLAM. But then I wanted to make sure C4 knew why I was asking. I started to say something, but there was cum all over my face and getting in my nose and it bubbled on my lips when I tried to talk, and I just lost it. I buried my face in the towel and cracked the fuck up. It felt fan-fucking-tastic.
Earlier, after he was done using my hole, Legolas had said something along the lines of “Barely adequate.” Later, he came back over and was being nice, and told me I did great. I grinned at him and said, “Not just adequate?” He was supes adorbs and pretended to whisper that I’d done great so the others wouldn’t hear. IIRC, he said I made him cum hard. What a good slut I can be.
C4 left, and Legal Lolita asked if I needed cuddles. I didn’t really need a lot of aftercare, exactly. Her presence didn’t ruin anything by any means, but it did keep me from getting super into the headspace for the most part. I was thinking about her and wanting her to be happy and feel good about what was happening, so I kept more of the intelligent, analyzing Little Feminist Bitch at the front of my mind than I usually do. As a result, I didn’t let the things that were said and done hit me as hard or as fully as usual. I did want cuddles, though, plus, I wasn’t sure if I might get upset later, so having them preemptively seemed like a good idea.
I invited Legal Lolita to join us cuddling, as well, and we chatted and giggled and I felt great. We left after not too long, because Legolas usually goes to bed pretty early, and because I had plenty of driving still to do. I ended up getting home pretty damn late, but I really enjoyed the evening, excepting, of course, the problems with poor consent practices, and Legal Lolita getting triggered. I’m looking forward to the next one, which will probably involve more getting tied up and learning, and less sex and bad things.
On Thursday, I got an all-caps-excited text from Legal Lolita that Legolas had texted her. She told me that she told him about our squeeing over his tumblr, and then he found hers because she’d reblogged something of his. I realized that I’d reblogged the same thing from her, and then she pointed out that I was linked in her cast of characters. OOPS. On the other hand, I wanted him to see this because it was an easy and low-stress way to communicate to him that we have compatible interests (Just because I’ll go to the bathroom with a man I met only hours before doesn’t mean I’m not shy.) So, I gave Little Lolita the go-ahead to inform him that my tumblr existed and she told him that I was in her cast of characters.
Didn’t take him long to figure that one out. At that point, Legal Lolita made it clear that she was not interested in being a sexy message go between, and told me to just message him. I told her I would, and firmly intended to, but got distracted by other things. Eventually, she gave him my number. We started talking a bit and bonded over our shared interest in fucking with feminism/misogyny. He told me that that night was the best day he’d have to get together until the next week and that Legal Lolita had said we were both busy. And then expressed disappointment “cause I want to say mean things to you and stuff.” Well, at that point I’d spent the entire day getting texts from tops and doms and looking through my dash and being horny, and honestly it was heady. The idea of getting to play with someone with such compatible-seeming kinks made me positively giddy. I actually was going to be free after abotu 7 (traffic mucked that timeline up, but it happens), so we started planning.
He told me he didn’t have any expectations and noted we hadn’t got much time to talk the night before, considering all the choking. He also said that I was “welcome to offer anything you want to have happen beforehand if you want me to have the liberty to take what you’re offering without asking.” My response to that was that “I’m very open to suggestions so anything you want, ask, but I’m definitely going to go ahead offer the removal of any and all clothes you want gone once I’m inside, permission to touch me anywhere with your hands, and to sit, stand, lay, straddle, kneel, etc. in any position you want in any location you want inside the house.” That got me a “very good, girl” in response. ALSO DKSLJFDKFLJ HE ASKED FOR CLARIFICATION ON MY PRONOUNS AND THAT IS ADORABLE AND AMAZING AND SUPER FUCKING SEXY
I asked MLAM if this was going to count as a first date, and of course it did. After a long and super stressful battle with traffic on the way back from seeing friends, I asked for leniency about the not pissing on first dates rule, and he was kind enough to allow me to piss half, with a punishment. I firmly intended to follow that, but that became impossible. Eventually, I made it home to shower and change into the appropriate outfit, drank the water, and made my way to Legolas’ place.
He met me at the front door and when we went in there were cats! I like cats. He led me up to his room and asked me to tell him about how I got involved with doing consensual misogyny. As I started telling him about how MLAM and I started playing with my feminism, Legolas stripped me. Since I’d offered that up as something he didn’t need to ask for, he expressed no interest in if I wanted it to happen, which was very hot. Once I was appropriately naked, he got out the rope and tied each of my legs bent at the knee and started saying objectifying things to me. He also asked what I wanted to do. That’s always a difficult one because I want to respond “Whatever you want to do.” but I also know that’s an annoying answer. Instead, I shared with him the things I didn’t want to do/my limits. Since he has access to my tumblr, he knew that any orgasm I had there would need to be ruined, and was kind enough to say he’d ruin it for me. That was greatly appreciated, since the orgasm ruining is a punishment for fucking up a punishment. I don’t want to know the punishment for fucking up a punishment for fucking up a punishment.
Legolas was mean and objectifying and put clothespins on my nipples, and then nipple clamps that felt fantastic/hurt quite a bit and I’m not exact on the timeline because holy hell was I exhausted and used up when I was making notes on what had happened so I could write this post. He did say that he likes anal and, IIRC, that he doesn’t get enough of it. So, he said he’d just fuck my ass, which is a nice humiliating thing to say/do, like my cunt isn’t worth it.
So, of course he has a poledancing pole in his room (he does do this thing as exercise and whatnot which is amazing), and he took some rope and the pole to lift the bottom half of my body off the bed, which was just unf so good. Next, he pulled out a hitatchi (*swoon*) and used that on my clit while his wonderfully adept fingers were in my pussy and damn. I almost always have to do quite a bit of additional mental work to get off, no matter how good or strong the sensations are, but with what he was doing to me, and the things he was saying, I had to do very minimal extra thinking. In fact, I think he could possibly force one out of me, especially if he said more lovely mean things while doing it. I could feel everything building and getting stronger and just as I started to cum hard, I told him I was going to, and he pulled everything away. He did a perfect job of ruining what was going to be a fucking fantastic orgasm.
I whined and collapsed as he let me down and started untying me. I asked him for pictures of the beautiful impressions, and he obliged. At one point, while he was getting something, I said “You’re really hot. You know that, right?” to him and he definitely deflected adorably, saying that it was a matter of opinion. Nonsense. He’s wicked hot.
He said he was going to fuck me in the ass then, and I asked (yes, asked) for him to hit me some afterwards, if there was time. He’d done a bit of caning earlier, and I wanted more. He said that he’d enjoy fucking my marked ass, and that marking it would get him hard, so I got caned before. :D
It was fantastic to get some nice impact in after not really getting anything for a few weeks (fuck I miss MLAM). Legolas warmed me up and then started hitting me pretty hard. He paused for basically the ideal amount of time between hard hits, especially since it’d been a while since I’d been hit. At one point, he asked if I was trying to impress him. That surprised me a bit, and I said “No.” He said, “Am I not worth impressing?” and I clarified that of course he was worth impressing, but I just didn’t think what I was taking was all that impressive. I really have no idea where I am in ability to take impact or pain on a scale from 1 to 10, with 1 being “Can barely stand having her ass getting pink” to “Loves being kicked in the cunt and whipped until she’s bleeding.” The caning left lovely marks and Legolas said, “Let me guess, you want pictures?” I did indeed, and will be sharing that here, soon.
Well, then it was ass fucking time. He had me stroke his cock and put a condom on while I got my ass ready. He had me on my side and started pushing into me and unnnf. I had to ask him to pause a couple times to get used to the feeling of his cock stretching me, but it felt fantastic. Honestly, if I’d had a vibe on my clit, I could have cum. He put me in missionary and kept fucking my hole when I realized that I had to piss. I asked him if he’d be mad if I pissed on him and he said yes, that he didn’t want me to. So I went to the bathroom. I knew I had permission to piss half, but I was worried that if I didn’t completely empty my bladder, I’d end up pissing while I was getting fucked, so I decided to accept the punishment that would result. I did feel bad about it, but I had to weigh disappointing MLAM by breaking a rule against disappointing Legolas and not serving my purpose by not letting him continue using my hole. Which I imagine would also be disappointing to MLAM, because he loans me out for to be used just like that.
When I came back, he kept fucking my ass, fairly hard and rough, and there was a point at which I had to ask him not to go that deep again. I’ll need to work on that so I can be a better fucktoy. After a while, he decided he was going to use my cunt after all, which I greatly appreciate. His cock felt great and oh right I do like piv sex, although I couldn’t take enough of it, especially in certain positions. He said more mean things, including that he couldn’t believe he was fucking my disgusting, hairy hole, which I was somewhat surprised to find hot. At one point he stopped and basically pulled out, and I moved my hips trying to get his cock into me. He told me to beg, and I realized something. I’m nowhere near as good at begging as I ought to be. When asked to beg, my mind sort of kicks out of submissive mode and I overthink it and start to feel silly and can’t get the right desperate, pleading tone that I’m going for. I said something like “Please fuck me. I need your cock in me now. That’s the point of me. If you’re not going to fuck me, then why am I here?” but I think I ended up sounding more annoyed or frustrated than pleading.
He moved away, and I sat up and said “Should I leave?” He said there were other ways I could be useful, like by him hurting me. He also noted that I took more in my ass than in my cunt, so that’s good to know. He asked me if there was anything else. I said that if he was done, could we cuddle. After I went and cleaned up and regained some amount of composure, we cuddled up in bed.
He told me that I did well, and that he does indeed want to use me again. I’m very happy about that because not only does it mean I did my job well, I had so much fun. He also showed me his secret misogynist tumblr as a reward. It is wickedly hot. The man who writes the the things on there is a man who hates women and finds them disgusting and only goof for one thing, if that. I’d never even want to meet that man. And yet, I want him to use me. (Oh wait I kind of did)
Legolas had said that the evening was just about getting to know each other, which is true, and why he wasn’t the meanest. In fact, he told me I did a good job taking the caning, and I said he was nicer than MLAM. To which he reiterated that we were just getting to know each other. He told me actually doesn’t enjoy impact play all that much anymore, so maybe I can ask for him to hit me with things as a reward. I’m a bit different now than I was just a couple months ago, aren’t I?
At one point during the evening, he’d mentioned the idea of him and C4 co-topping me (they seem to have a bestie relationship going on, which I like a lot). This was an idea I very much liked, and while we were cuddling, I asked him if it was a real thing in the world that could happen. IIRC, he told me he didn’t see why not. He also went into some more detail and described a dp scenario that left me all hot and bothered. C4 on the bottom so he could choke me, Legolas behind. I’m seriously swooning about that. The mere idea of them topping me together makes me giddy and scared in a really nice way and if it happens (oh gods please let it happen), I would become a melted puddle of completely compliant and submissive little feminist bitch.
He also pointed out to me that I could have fucked C4 in the bar because duh people carry condoms. Jesus am I dumb cunt or what for not thinking to start carrying condoms when I go out. If I’m going to be the best little fucktoy I can be, I need to think of these things. I now have two protective condom holders in my purse (thank you pride events and Planned Parenthood), one with three different kinds of condoms, and one with some lube, in case whoever is fucking me wants to use it.
Earlier in the evening, he’d asked where he could cum, and I’d told him in my ass with the condom on, or above my stomach. During the cuddling, he asked about it again, asking if that meant above my stomack, and from the neck down. I informed him that no, it did not mean that. He approved. I imagine I’ll be getting a facial sometime soon.
Thank you one billion times to Legal Lolita for helping me connect with Legolas. Having multiple people in my life to use me and treat me like I need to be treated…that’s the dream, ain’t it?
This whole week with all the playing made me really really miss MLAM. I’ve had kink on the mind almost constantly, and he’s who I think of first when I think kink. For some reason (okay, I do know many of the reasons, but it’s still hard to believe sometimes), he’s willing to invest time and effort in a girl like me and help me explore and process and talk about the theory and be a safe place for me to push boundaries and try new things. Plus, I’m very grateful that he’s willing to loan me out so that I can be the slut I’m trying to be. I’m super excited about all the new people I’m meeting! Especially the people who are helping me slut it up.
