I hate sounding like a unicorn-hunter because I know firsthand that whole practice can be so problematic but gah what do I have to do to have one evening or a whole series of evenings or an ongoing dynamic like this with Sir and another girl?
fantasy
I have this fantasy a lot.
He takes a pretty girl out on a nice date and makes me wait at home. I’m allowed to touch myself when I’m home alone, but I’m not allowed to cum.
He tells me to expect them back at a certain time, but they come back about two hours late, laughing and enjoying each other. She pauses a bit when she sees me sitting on the stairs, but he just eases her down to her knees and tells her not to give me a second thought.
At first, she’s hesitant. But eventually her ego inflates, watching me sit there and squirm, and by the time they’re heading up the stairs, she yanks my hair and drags me along behind her. Or just kicks me over with her heel. Or just gives me a snide look.
I put his condom on him so he can fuck her. I get her wet for him. I sit on the side and whine and pout while he uses her the way I like to be. When he’s finished, I clean her off with my tongue. And then I’m sent to the corner to curl up and try to sleep while the two of them share the bed and laugh about how pathetic I am.
I don’t know, tumblr. I guess I’m a little messed up.
Disclaimer: The following is a fantasy and not a genuine threat. Were we to carry this out, it would involve consenting people, proper protection and a ton of precautions.
Months ago, Flint and I were hanging around on my couch. He was choking me a little bit, holding my throat until I started to get genuinely scared and tried to buck him off of me. As panicked I would get each time he cut my breath, I kept asking for more until it was finally, maybe, a little too much.
“Tell me something scary,” I said, accepting that as a substitute. “I want you to scare me.”
Flint smiled and smoothed some of my hair off of my forehead. “The first time I fuck you, it’s going to be rape,” he replied, voice calm and even and maybe a little condescending.
“How?” I chuckled. “You can’t rape me if I want to fuck you.”
He shrugged. “Well, I’ll just come in while you’re asleep. You’ll wake up to the sound of duct tape being torn off the roll. I’ll have a few friends come along to help hold you down, and I’ll let them have you afterwards as a thanks for the favor.” He patted my cheek. “What do you think of that? Maybe I’ll get enough people to come that we’ll double your number that night alone.”
I stared at him, speechless.
“Think of that, love, half of a decade of sexual activity doubled in one night,” he grinned. “And all of it against your will.”
I shook my head, “you couldn’t do that.”
He shrugged, “if you say so.”
Some nights, I catch myself wondering whether or not to lock the deadbolt on my door.
I have a bag of old clothes that are a little too messed up (with paint, with bleach, etc) to donate.
They’re kind of begging for a certain form of special treatment.
I have an appointment with the gynecologist today.
I’m not saying this is how I’d want it to go.
But I certainly wouldn’t complain.
I’m trying to imagine spending a day like this. Blind and silent, left to crawl around on my hands and knees. Occasionally, being grabbed by the hips and pulled over to be used. Otherwise, just stuck in this dark little world, totally helpless.
I like the idea of her having spent so much time getting all nice and pretty, and then the cuffs and chains are so, so dirty.
I love the idea of being stuck like this with a group of people casually hanging out. And I’m struggling to do simple tasks while everyone just sits around and laughs.
What was it you said?
That I’d wake up to the sound of duct tape being torn off the roll?