“I’ll be anything you want,” she said, “so long as I’m useful.”
She hated when people like them got over the top. She hated the pushcarts and the pony play and the ornate arrangements of flesh made to be something of use. She wanted to be used simply, to be reduced to function and not form.
And so he turned off the fuse box and blamed the storm. And she went to get a book of matches.
I’m sorry, but that’s the blandest, worst-looking salad I’ve ever seen.
Seriously, creators of pornography. Take pride in your work.
Sheesh.
In this kind of recession, you’ve just got to be creative about finding a job that suits your particular talents.
Monday Dali by Bob Sandberg,1947
Ah, forniphilia. Most of why I enjoy this particular kink is the feeling of usefulness that is associated with it. Of course, the degradation aspect also has a special pull on me.
Forniphilia: Form and function.
I reblog this with great hesitation, as I know he’s probably going to somehow convince me to try this once he sees it.
Meh. You only live once.
Just a couple of strategically place access holes and he would really have something.
Reblogged for the man in my life whose ideal house has more woman-based furniture than actual furniture.
i’m not really sure what’s going on here but both my kink and clean freak sides are rejoicing in harmony.
He has some pretty big forniphilia kicks. It was something he just kind of had rumbling around inside of him, I never even introduced him to it. I’d never even really expressed much of an interest in. But, I’ve really gotten into it as a result of his interest. And, thus, yes, I’d be his tie rack if he wanted me to. I’ve already been his footrest a couple of times.
Bottom line: A couple that kinks together grows together.