#things i want more of
Last night on Skype, Reaction Junkie asked me how hard it is for me to carry on conversation when I have something in my holes. Thinking that he wanted me to fuck myself with a dildo while we talked, I thought back to all the times I’d Skyped with The Super Sadist and Marxman while fucking myself. I told him that having something in me wasn’t very distracting.
“Good,” he said. Then he asked, “How long can you wear a plug for? Can you wear a buttplug for eight hours?” I hemmed and hawed until he finally said, “Can. You. Wear. A. Plug. For. Eight. Hours?” “Yes, dear,” I responded, looking down. He smiled at me and informed me, “You’ll be wearing your plug for eight hours at work tomorrow.”
I was happy to do so, and said that it might even be helpful, since I’m seeing Legolas today and plan to be prepared for anal. Reaction Junkie thought for a moment and said, “Well, maybe you should have something in your cunt, too.” I wasn’t sure and said, “I don’t know if I have anything that will stay in.” “That depends how tight your underwear is, doesn’t it?” he responded. I agreed, and he informed me that I would keep my small dildo in my pussy during work, and when I leave for happy hour tonight, I’m to switch it to a larger one.
I smiled, despite knowing it could get uncomfortable. He hasn’t given me many, if any orders like this, that last for an extended time and provide a constant reminder of my place, and I really enjoy them. I lovelovelove our switchy dynamic, and wouldn’t change it. However, it does lend itself to a reduction in the time I spend feeling properly subby, since I feel as though I could take control at any moment. Of course, realistically I know that he owns me, that he’s in charge, that he enjoys bottoming and the feel of submitting so he allows me to play at that role, but I don’t always feel that truth on a deeper level. Sometimes I miss falling into submission like I used to, that heady feeling of being controlled, the fuzzy warmth of being owned.
With this instruction, to have two of my holes filled all day, I can feel a bit of that old subby headspace coming back, especially as I write this. It’s intoxicating and makes me want to think more subby thoughts. I want to be obedient and fulfill the orders given to me. The large dildo may be uncomfortable, but I’m not going to ask for him to change his orders. I risk public humiliation if someone notices or if the dildo slips out. That doesn’t matter. I’m going to do what he told me to do. Because I don’t have a choice. When he says to do something, I do it. Property doesn’t get to refuse, doesn’t get to haggle or negotiate.
So, I’m going to sit all day at my desk, my cunt soaked from being filled. Not only from that, of course, I’m also wet from the knowledge that two of my holes are stuffed at the direction of my owner and that I’m willing to obey him at all times, even at work. And I’m happy to do it. I’m grateful that he is willing to spend the time and attention on me to give an order like this. I’m glad for the reminder of my real place as owned property.
I can pretend to be an independent person. Can say that I have my own job, my own apartment, my own life. But coming to work with a dildo in my cunt and a plug in my ass proves that in actuality, I’m an obedient, eager to please, desperate girl who craves giving up that independence in order to submit and be controlled. To give up ownership of myself to be owned by someone else.
Yes, please. I haven’t been made to go out in public without panties since MLAM. I miss it. I also haven’t been made to take off my panties in public. I think I’d be very into having to go to the bathroom, take them off, and bring them back to someone. It would be humiliating and controlling and hot.
Dress me in a short skirt and make me leave my panties at home. Ensure that I have to be always thinking about the risk of exposure. Force me to be constantly aware of my cunt, aware that the wet hole between my legs gives me purpose and controls my behavior. If I wasn’t driven by it, I wouldn’t be out in public without panties, wouldn’t be turned on by the thought of a strange man seeing my cunt, wouldn’t be such a slut.
Take me out to dinner, to a party, to a happy hour. Don’t tell me what you’re planning. In the middle of the evening, lean over to me and say softly, “Go to the bathroom, take off your panties, and bring them back to me. Now.” When I hesitate, remind me that you are in control, that I don’t get to refuse you, that I don’t decide what I wear. Watch me look down and my face flush as I slowly stand up and walk over to the bathroom. Grin at me when I come back and hand you my panties, clearly embarrassed. As I give them to you, feel the wet spot and shake your head. Act disgusted as you comment on how much it must have turned me on to do as you said, to acknowledge your power over me.
When we’re in public and I’ve left my panties at home, or I’ve removed them for you, take advantage of my vulnerable position. Threaten to flip up my skirt. Don’t let me hold it down in the wind. Make me spread my legs and show myself to your friends. Slide your hand between my legs and tease me as we sit on the train, at the bar, in the restaurant. Push me back against a wall while we walk home and slide your fingers into my soaking cunt. Fuck me with them until I’m moaning desperately, then pull them out, make me suck them clean, wipe them on my hair, and keep walking like nothing happened. Drag me into an ally, shove my face into the wall, kick my legs apart, and unzip your pants. Push your cock into my tight cunt and use my hole for your pleasure, growling degradation into my ear, calling me a slut, a bitch, a whore, a cunt, telling me how wet and tight and warm I am, how good I feel around your cock.
Take away the little piece of fabric that lets me act as though I’m more than a horny bitch in heat, controlled by desire and lust. Make me aware of how vulnerable I am because of the cunt between my legs, how easily I can be exposed and taken and used. Remind me that I am always available to you, that you always have the right to use my holes however you’d like, that you have access to me whenever and wherever you want it.
Post link
Reaction Junkie pulled the duffel bag out from under his bed. “Get in,” came the not entirely unexpected command. He dropped it on the floor. “I don’t think I’ll fit,” I said, going over to and starting to get in anyway. “Oh, you’ll fit,” came the response.
He was right. I bent my knees back, scrunched down, and straightened my arms in front of me. I closed my eyes as he zipped up the bag. I hesitated a bit before the bag was closed, maybe even protested weakly. But when the last bit of the opening disappeared, I grew calm. I wasn’t struggling, just breathing in the dark, waiting and wondering what he would do. Underneath the calm, however, I could feel something lurking, ready to come out if I started to struggle or think too much about my situation, or if anything else happened to highlight how very trapped I was. I continued to focus on the calm part of my mind, keeping the panic at bay.
I took deep breaths as two conflicting thoughts raced through my mind. One was that I was zipped in a bag with little chance of escape, a dangerous and frightening predicament. The other was that I need to relax and maintain my composure. These two needs battled for control and I barely registered that Reaction Junkie had walked away until I heard something jingling. I felt his hands on the bag, and then he happily told me the padlock fit around the zippers on the bag. “Nonononono, ” I said. I didn’t really mean it, though. I knew he’d take me out if I needed him to. Almost certainly. Eventually.
*CLICK* He secured the padlock. Escape was now impossible. Reaction Junkie taunted and teased me. He picked up the bag, shaking me and highlighting the fact that he could do anything he wanted, take me anywhere he wanted. I would be entirely unable to resist, incapable of even trying to fight back. Although I still felt that undercurrent of fear, I enjoyed what he was doing, and mostly found it fun. Then he said he’d take me out.
I heard him messing with the padlock. After a moment, he said, “Shit. I don’t have the key. These aren’t the right keys.” At first, I didn’t believe him, but he insisted he was telling the truth. Concerned, but unconvinced, I said in a sharp tone, “Are you serious? [Reaction Junkie], don’t do that,” He replied, “Yes. It’s okay. Even if I can’t find them, we can cut you out.” It wasn’t all fun and games anymore, and I started to get worried. A bit of the panic that had been bubbling under the surface throughout this ordeal started to rise up.
That’s when he laughed, undid the padlock, and the bag zipped open. I blinked up at him and said, “Fuck you!” “I love you,” he responded, an impish grin on his face.
Especially when it’s cute.
Cuddle me tight, kiss my forehead, and call me your dumb little cocksocket. Call me that in the same tone you would call someone “love” or some other cute nickname.If I’m taking a bath come in to talk about my day and casually unzip your fly and piss in my bathwater, without changing tone.
When I’m making dinner shove a barely lubed plug up my ass while kissing my neck and asking what we’re having.
Make my degradation so casual and part of every day that it becomes a language of love, that without it I worry you’re mad at me.
I love these kinds of things. Making degradation just part of our relationship, part of my life. These little things let me know you’re thinking of me, that you care.
I would love having any and all of these things happen. In fact, Reaction Junkie has done most of them. Opening the shower door to piss on me. Calling me names like slut or bitch in heat or dog or stupid cunt or any other cute little pet names.
I want to take enough to get marks like these, even if I have a love/hate relationship with caning.
One of Reaction Junkie’s friends gave him a golf club with the head removed. It’s wicked. Stings like crazy and stupid painful. I don’t like it. It’s bad enough that we used it the other night for punishment, even though impact is usually a reward.
One strike for each minute I wasn’t doing the work I needed to be doing. I ended up getting ten on the fronts of my thighs, but I was much more focused than I usually would have been. Especially when he left it on the desk in front of me as a reminder.
Hopefully we can work up to me being able to withstand as many strikes (likely on freshly slapped/warmed up areas) and as much pain as this looks like it took.
Post link
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.
Post link
“I just love to come home and… unwind but practicing my rigging on you, pet… do you enjoy it too?”
“Yes Mistress!”
“Good boy…"
I need to do this. I get to practice my rope, and my partners get to see me having fun and being confident!
Post link
