I was tied to one of the dining chairs, my ass resting on the edge with my knees bent back so my legs were out of the way, running backwards along the edges of the seat and tied off to the backrest. My arms bound tightly behind my back, the rope pulled taught and run between the headrest and seat before being looped underneath the seat to be tied off to the front legs of the chair.
The overall effect leaving me completely exposed before him, legs spread and back arched, I was already panting, feeling breathless, rugged and thoroughly used. It had already been a long and rough night leading to this point, tears stinging my eyes and staining my cheeks as I looked at him pleadingly, silently begging although no longer aware of what it was I truly craved from him – it could have been either more or less…I was no longer entirely certain which, just that I yearned for…something…from him. Anything.
I stared up at him with my confused longing, my mouth open, showing him the pool of cum he had just left there. I had been expecting to be given permission to swallow, I had expected to be untied and moved, I was prepared for and expected almost anything…anything except…
“Don’t look away, keep that mouth open”
Shifting a little in my restraints, my muscles beginning to strain, twitch and make their aches known as my mind settled on the realisation that release was anything but imminent.
Not daring to disobey as my eyes followed him across the room, slowly, painstakingly slowly he made his way to the bedside table, dragging the drawer open centimetre by centimetre…the sound of the wood sliding in its grooves reverberating in my mind as tears stung my eyes anew, the precious cum in my mouth already feeling as though it were swelling in volume as it lightly swirled against my tongue with a tender invitation to swallow and savour it, tempered with the threat of having it spill.
Neither acceptable without the permission of Mister, his eyes locking onto mine as his lips began to curl in a sadistic grin, carefully and deliberately reaching into the drawer before removing the next object of his games with me for the evening…
The black journal. The daily journal I write and record my deepest and most depraved fantasies in, the one in which each page is filled with words and stories that never fail to make me stammer and blush, the one which I have never succeeded in reading even a single page aloud.
I could feel my cheeks already burning crimson, my hips shifting a little more earnestly only to be punished with a burning strain through my thighs. Each step he took toward me seemed exaggerated, defined with a certainty and composure further enhanced by the contrast in my own helpless, dishevelled and desperate state.
He dragged the armchair across the room until it was only a few feet from my chair before crouching in front of me to look me in the eye, a finger tenderly tucking a stray hair back behind my ears with mock pity.
“You’ve been such a good little slut for me tonight I thought you would enjoy me reading to you…but of course, there’s really only one book in existence that contains stories befitting such a lowly and pathetic creature like you, isn’t there?”
He held the journal up toward his lips, unable to stop myself, feeling the heat of humiliation course through my veins to burn crimson on every inch of my skin…I couldn’t have stopped the reaction even if I had been conscious of it…my eyes fell from his, casting themselves downwards in shame, unable to meet his gaze as my mind taunted me with memories of what I had written and the renewed wetness pooling between my legs and staining the seat betraying me by revealing exactly what effect some of those thoughts had on me.
I had looked away for barely a second, but it was enough. A sharp slap across my face sent the cum and drool I’d been so careful not to spill flying across the room and splashing onto the floor as the remnants smeared against his hand or landed in droplets like snowflakes against my skin.
The chair rocked a little and threatened to tip before Misters firm grasp had it settled in place once more.
“Pathetic”
The word was practically spat at me as he stood, wiping his hand clean in my hair before he moved and settled himself into the armchair, one leg stretching to rest on the the very edge of my seat, his toes finding the slick wetness leaking from between my legs and flexing a little, flickering across my sensitive clit and sending volts of electric energy along my spine.
“Let’s try this again. Don’t look away, you might as well close that mouth of yours now though, I guess. Such a shame you wasted such a generous reward. I would have let you savour that one.”
Moaning in earnest as his words burnt new levels of shame into me, straining to keep my eyes focused on him as he began to read my own words aloud to me…leaving absolutely no room for questions about exactly how dark, dirty and depraved my desires and fantasies can truly be.
I had thought we were done for the night, but in seven simple words he had really told me our first night of holidays together had only just begun…
“Don’t look away, and keep that mouth open”
Seven words that will forever be burnt in my memory as the tone of our 2016 Christmas break together.
Imagine basilisks specifically designed to crash these algorithms: abstract-blocks-of-black-and-white-for-heads that, like the QR codes of old, carry a hidden message in their patterning, only it’s a payload, a virus that shreds the system of anyone who tries to capture it on camera, the natural evolution of anti-face-detection camouflage. Imagine things that don’t even have faces, that don’t have an equivalent and easily-cataloguable part; people who deliberately wear mass-produced, identical android bodies, the Guy Fawkes masks of the future.
It’s a thing! Turns out, people would rather not look stupid than not be caught by facial recognition.
Somehow they look exactly like you would expect cyperpunk protagonists trying to avoid detection by facial recognition software to look.
have you ever had a weird sort of crush on one of your friends where you cant actually tell if its a crush or not??? do i want to kiss you?? do i just really enjoy being your friend????? who knows? not me
Hi there I’m here to unnecessarily add that this is called alterous attraction! It’s basically ambiguous attraction that’s indistinguishable between platonic and romantic and/or sexual attraction. It’s not uncommon to feel alterous attraction towards friends/squishes/crushes. This post describes it pretty well, actually. In my experience, it’s like… I’d be cool with dating this person but being their friend is just as good. Like I wouldn’t actively start a romantic relationship, but I wouldn’t turn one down. So yeah! Alterous attraction. It’s nice but confusing.
“When I ask you if you want to do something, you know it’s always okay to say no, right?”
“Let me know if you get uncomfortable, okay?”
“How do you feel about (x activity)?”
(When someone’s insecure about having said no and asks if it’s okay/if you’re mad or upset they said no) “I’m disappointed, of course, but I’m really glad you were willing to tell me (no/that you were uncomfortable/etc.). That’s really important to me. Thank you.”
“I’d ALWAYS rather be told no than make you feel pressured or do anything to hurt you or make you uncomfortable.”
“I care about you, so when something I do hurts you or makes you uncomfortable, I want to know, because I don’t like making you feel bad.”
“Wanna do (x)? It’s okay if not, but I think it would be (fun/worthwhile/prudent).”
(When starting a social phone call): “Hey, are you busy right now?”
(When confirming plans made earlier): “Hey, are you still up for doing (x) at (time) on (day)?”
“Can I vent a little about (x)?”
“Can I tell you something (gross/depressing)?”
“Are you comfortable talking about it?”
“Do you think you could talk me through this problem I’ve been having? If you have the time and emotional energy of course.”
“It’s okay if that doesn’t work for you.”
“I’m interested in spending more time with you. Would you be interested in doing (x) together on (y day)?”
“No? Well let me know if you ever want to do something else.” (leave it open! don’t nag! let it go!)
Consent culture – it’s about way more than just sex!
Givepeople as much freedom as possible to make their own choices without pressure or control.
Even children deserve as much autonomy as allows them to remain safe and get their needs met – remember, you can’t train a child to make good/safe/healthy choices without ever giving them choices. A child who is taught to respect consent is a child who doesn’t assault people! A child who knows they have a right to say no is a child who knows that someone who infringes on their autonomy isn’t supposed to do that.
A consent-conscious relationship is a healthier and safer relationship, and a person who is aware of and deliberate about asking for, giving, receiving, refusing, and being refused consent is a healthier and safer person.
-You see a funny post. After you read it, you move your cursor to the like button. It is already red. You have never seen that post before.
-Your dash is filled with strangers. Maybe you knew them once, but you cannot remember that time.
-Someone has sent you a message. “I would appreciate it if you would go to my page and try out my game!” You block them and delete the message. A few minutes later, you have a new message.
-There is a new update. There is a new update. There is a new update. Everything looks the same. The users are outraged.
-You complain to your friends about how much you hate Tumblr. “Why do you still use it, then?” You start to sweat. You’ve already said too much.
-You scroll through your dashboard. Your eyes glaze over. You no longer see the posts. You keep scrolling.
