#weapon play
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.
I never understand the threat in these pics. I get that being threatened with a gun is hot but this makes no sense. The pics always have the girl giving head while the guy points the gun (usually at her head). If he pulled the trigger the first thing that would happen is she would reflexively convulse and bite off his dick…
Ahahahahaha I died when I read the bit about the reflexive convulsion. You’re very right.
What I like doesn’t really involve pointing it at me to get me to do anything, definitely not give head. the caption I wrote really does describe what kind of gunplay I enjoy. I just like having a gun pointed at me and getting death threats. Guns are scary/hot in and of themselves.
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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.
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Stop fetishizing guns.
I’m both highly amused and more than a little turned on.
I couldn’t not reblog this. I might be in love with it.
I agree. Guns are tools of self defense or hunting. They have no place in play of any kind. I own plenty of guns and have plenty of experience and I love beating the shit out of women. Scaring them. Making them cry. However, I would never use a firearm to do anything but protect me and mine, feed me and mine, or practice. Ever. It’s not cute.
Well that’s just boring!
How about this: I’ve been a martial artist and MMA coach for 15 years. I don’t need a gun to scare or dominate a little bitty girl. I could break your fragile little necks with one arm.
Really though. As many accidents as there are with firearms, most of them are out of carelessness and stupidity like “gun play”. Treat all guns as if they are loaded at all times. Don’t point them at anything that you don’t want to destroy and answer for before a jury.
Ahhhh… It’s always been a fantasy of mine to be fucked by a gun, to feel the metal, mmmmmfuck!!!
Yeah I have to agree. Play safe and all. But safety goes for any kind of play. Knifes, needles, breath etc..
‘Don’t point them at anything that you don’t want to destroy’. See that’s ok cause I know plenty of people that would love to damage and break me down.
That’s where my mind goes with the “don’t point them at anything you don’t want to destroy” thing, too. I actually have a post about a super hot conversation around that idea you might enjoy. And I’ve done some gunplay.
If you’re into gunplay, it doesn’t matter if you’re playing with someone who doesn’t need to use one to scare or dominate you. That’s not the point. Being physically dominated is one thing, but having a gun pointed at you is an entirely different thing.
The serious risk is part of the appeal. The feeling of powerlessness that comes with having a gun pointed at you is part of the appeal. The profound fear that runs through you when you’re being threatened at gunpoint is part of the appeal. The deep-seated association of guns with violence is part of the appeal. The taboo nature of violating basic gun safety like that is part of the appeal. The fact that someone is willing to destroy you is part of the appeal.
owlmandead isn’t wrong about safety, though. All kinks have risks, and this kink is a step above many others in terms of potential negative outcomes. If you do gunplay with real guns, you’re doing something very dangerous. If something goes wrong, bottoms are taking the risk of being shot and killed, and tops are taking the risk of shooting and killing someone. Those are very high stakes.
If you want to experience gunplay, but (probably wisely) don’t want to take that risk, you can always have a partner (preferably one who actually owns guns, so you won’t be suspicious just because they have one) get a very realistic fake without telling you. It would probably only really work once (although even if you knew it was fake, it could be a lot of fun), since you likely wouldn’t fall for it again, but that one time would be awesome.
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Clothes are never more than disposable around here
I hate to think you’re uncomfortable
Hnng. This picture.
I still haven’t had clothes cut off me. I really need this to happen soon. A thrift store run is in my near future!
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“Silence is a source of Great Strength.”
― Lao Tzu
This picture appeals to me a great deal and I can’t quite figure out why.
I just keep coming back to it and looking at it.
Something about it is just…sexy? Sexy is the right word, but it’s not really even in a gunplay, fear-inducing kind of way. Looking at it makes me feel various unidentified positive feelings.
I’ve definitely changed in recent months.
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Reaction Junkie is sitting like right over there playing with a knife and I just can’t even.
Nothing like a little gun play to make her cunt wet!
“Making love” means different things to different people. To me, being willing to hold a gun at me at all is incredibly meaningful, and doing it while we fuck is far more romantic and loving than anything slow, sensual, or candlelit.
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So yeah this Deadpool stuff* is definitely going to get me back into some more violence based kink, definitely weapon play and slamming into walls and guns oh my god guns
*Context for this: I’m getting into Spideypool and Deadpool individually and I finally might have found a fandom homeSaturday night, I went to a grand opening for a new play space. I picked up Reaction Junkie, Legal Lolita, and Repressed Boy and we headed to the play party. As we stood in line, we said hello to Legolas and talked. Finally, they opened the doors and we walked in. We explored the mostly empty space, poking around at different pieces of equipment, until Reaction Junkie looked at me and said, “You’re far too free. Let’s go fix that.”
We found a space and put down our stuff. Next thing I knew, I was against the wall, Reaction Junkie’s voice in my ear, asking me what a girl like me was doing dressed like that in a place like this. I whimpered in response, already starting the descent into a nice little headspace. He pulled out his knife and pressed it against my throat, saying “You’re going to do exactly what I say. Do you understand?” I said that I understood. He held the knife in front of my face and said, “Now you’ve seen this and you know I have it, so I can put it away and you’ll behave?” I nodded, and he stepped away, telling me to strip down to my panties. I hurried to comply, afraid of the consequences if I dawdled or acted silly.
Reaction Junkie came up behind me and tied a blindfold over my eyes. I’m very glad he did. Since we were in public, and especially because Legal Lolita was there, I would have had a larger part of myself than usual on the sidelines, observing, instead of being fully immersed in the scene and the headspace. Not to mention, being unable to see leaves me with a heightened uncertainty. Of course, the scene itself was making me uncertain. I had no idea what he had in mind, or even what he might do in a public space. At the beginning of the scene, I had been grinning and happily enjoying myself, but as it went on, the smile fell off my face, and the happy enjoyment shifted to fearful, pained, submissive enjoyment. It became an enjoyment of the reminder of my place, of his power, of his control, and the fact that this isn’t a game.
Once the blindfold was in place, he tied me with my arms behind my back. There would be no getting away, no fighting back. Not that I would try to do either. And not that it would even matter if I did try. He was in control of my mind, my body, and the entire situation. The next thing I knew, I was on the ground. He pushed the knife into me, and I felt the sharp tip digging into my flesh. As he pressed the tip into different parts of my torso, he mused aloud, “How much pressure do you think it would take to pierce your skin?” It was all I could do to keep my reactions to a mere tremble, trying hard not to move too much, not wanting to find the answer to that question by accident by shifting unexpectedly.
Reaction Junkie dragged the knife (Okay. I half believe he used the actual knife for all of this, but I also half believe he used parts of the knife besides the blade or something else for at least some of it but wasn’t and am still not sure and I don’t even want to know because I do like the uncertainty.) along my skin, pricking me with it. Sharp pokes like that tend to make me cry really easily, and I like to let people know, even people I know are okay or like crying, that I may cry soon, just in case they don’t feel like having me cry (yet). I told Reaction Junkie that if he poked me much more I might cry. He asked if I was okay with that. Normally, I’m fine with crying, but this would have been crying in a new place in front of people, so I told him “Let’s keep going, and if I cry, I’ll let you know if I need something else at that point.” He agreed and resumed menacing me.
He pressed the knife against my cheek and threatened to fluid bond me to it. As he pushed it into my skin, there were a couple points where I legitimately felt like it might cut me, or wondered if it was. I was strangely okay with that. I don’t like the idea of actually being cut, but if he wanted to do that, I would try my hardest to take it for him. At one point during the scene, Reaction Junkie said something along the lines of “Do you understand that you’re mine and I can do whatever I want to you and no one will do anything about it?” and when I started to say I understood, he asked if I understood it at an emotional level. I did understand, but not at that deeper level. Not until this scene.
Now I get what it means to say that he owns me. Obviously he can do whatever he wants to me. Not just because he’s physically stronger than I am. More than that, I’ll accept whatever he decides to do because all of me, and everything that is mine, is his. And no one is going to stop him because they would see that I want what is happening. Maybe I won’t want the particular thing at the particular moment. In a broader sense, though, I do want it because he decided to do it. My purpose is to take whatever he dishes out, and to give him whatever he desires. I want him to do anything and everything he wants to me, no matter my preferences.
