Endurance and coersion are big aspects of my highest forms of kink. Conditioning is a form of coersion. Humiliation is a form of endurance. When consensual, both practices twist me up inside with arousal.
I just read a post highlighting obedience and subservience, and those concepts don’t connect with me in any direct way. My submission is different from that particular example. It’s amazing how much variety can exist.
my professor: did you do the reading?
me: ya you got The Tower buckle up bcs shit is about to go down
my professor: damn
Omg!!!!! What do you do???? You dump his ass!! Men will never change if we don’t hold them accountable for their disgusting behavior. You often find out people’s true colors through their interactions with your friends, family and coworkers. If someone is disrespectful (especially to strangers) and starts asking invasive inappropriate questions (and then has the audacity to say they don’t see what they did was wrong) believe that that is their true self. Don’t let shit like that slide! No way in hell would I let someone get away with that!
Back me on this babes! Add your thoughts!
People have actually commented “ignorance is teachable, how about educating instead of judging.” And how she should tried to communicate with him first. And he wasn’t having it. Y’all know I think communication is key and you should always try to understand why someone thinks the way they do and help them learn however when someone shows you they do not have any desire to change and In fact see no wrongdoing in something that is so blatantly fucked up you should RUN.
This is your reminder that it is not your responsibility to “fix” your partner. I repeat IT IS NOT YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TO FIX YOUR PARTNER. If you try communicating with them that something that did was incredibly disrespectful and they brush it off and say they don’t see what they did was wrong you don’t need to suck it up and try to help educate them further. Doing so can put you in an extremely toxic situation. She said she tried to talk to him and his excuse was “I’ve never talked to hot lesbians before” this mindset is disgusting.
How about we stop coddling men who are blatantly disrespectful and refuse to learn or apologize . How about we stop bending over backwards to educate our partners on what is right and wrong when they have made it very clear that they do not believe their behavior was wrong in the first place. You’re dating an adult not a child and I don’t care if you love your partner dearly if they treat other people in such a dehumanizing manner you better believe that in time they will start doing the same to you. Just because you love someone DOES NOT mean you have to stay with them no matter what they do/say!
You can hold someone’s hand and tell them something is not okay 1,000 times but if you stand by them they are never going to understand that what they are doing is seriously wrong. Holding men accountable for their actions and behavior is a far better way to teach them that what they are doing will not be stood for.
Be Bold. Stand your ground. I read this once and it’s so important… Do not set yourself on fire to keep others warm.
the-axe-that-clears-the-forest:
I’m not real sure how to word it, but I hate cold/angry/dead inside Doms that approach me specifically because they think I am not those things (Nate’s friends, I am specifically annoyed by Nate’s Dtype friends).
I dislike the idea that somehow *I* am the broken and vulnerable one, when their offering and opening statements hang on how they think my soft and joy can outweigh their heavy baggage. I dislike this immediate “Oh, you must be real damaged, my hardass bullshit can fix you while you fix me”. No, homie, that’s not the vibe here.
It’s worse than just edgelord talk, too. I don’t find strength in hardness and cold. Anybody can be angry. I should be angry. Anger was the easy choice. I am not impressed that you channel your rage into your sadism, and that you find your softness in taking care of your toys. Fool, you are barely hitting the very lowest bar, and I am better than you at this, so like… no.
The savior complex in Dtypes is nothing new, but holy shit should that not be your foundation and it should not be what you have to offer me. No one fixes me, I don’t fix someone else. You can help make my bad days easier, you can give me insight on battles you already won. But no one will ever be as good at rebuilding my broken parts than I am. Vice versa.
This… instant offer of being my strength because they don’t think I have any, simply because they’re big scary and violent, and being completely sincere about it, makes me incredibly bored and annoyed. I am not the small and fragile one here. You are. And that would be fine, but not if you can’t admit it.
For my part, hell as a Dtype this post resonates with me too, in that sometimes I look around at these “doms” and I just wanna say, like, is there nothing but hardness in your damned souls?? These joyless bastards tend to forget that this is all about intimacy. Intimacy and closeness, and that the human condition has a broad spectrum of emotions for both parties in a bdsm/power exchange encounter it relationship.
So I think when you see behaviors like you’re describing, or Dtypes that carry themselves in such a way it speaks to a certain selfishness. Selfishness in play is easily understood, but it’s an emotional selfishness to withhold that vulnerability from up high so to speak that really rancles me.
I’d much rather my dominance come from a “first among equals” sense rather than paint myself as some stiff upper lip sumbitch who thinks he knows something about fixing people. I find that those types know little about themselves let alone what really drives anyone’s needs and desires.
Warning: Master and I use chemicals in this scene. Stop reading if this offends you.
I’ve always been obsessed with the idea of being used by Master. I relish being his fucktoy. I want him to wrench pleasure from my body with absolute disregard for my satisfaction. Unfortunately, that is a lot easier said than done. I love being fucked, whether in my cunt or ass. I can attain orgasms from both. Heck, I could probably even cum from being face-fucked.
I finally found a solution called lidocaine or skin numbing topical anesthetic cream. I bought a tube of it from an online retailer, although it can be found in most pharmacies. Disclaimer: I did some research and found that it was commonly prescribed to women who suffer from Vaginismus, so therefore safe to use on membranous regions like the vagina. I’ve had lidocaine used on me during cosmetic procedures in the past, so I know my body doesn’t react negatively to it. That said, there are possible side effects, and a number of individuals might find themselves very allergic to the cream, so please, guys, don’t try this without consulting a medical professional.
Master got me in the mood with a trusty mix of impact play and verbal degradation. We’ve been lovers for so long, he knows the exact buttons to push to get my juices flowing. “I’m going to use you today and you’re not going to feel a fucking thing.” “You’re nothing but a hole.” “I’m going to hood you so I don’t even have to look at your face when I fuck you.” The blows of the paddle on my bum punctuated his statements and sent my emotions into a frenzy.
Needless to say, it wasn’t long before I was suitably lubricated down under. With a pair of gloves (to ensure he didn’t get in contact with the lidocaine), Master started rubbing the numbing cream into the folds of my cunt, focusing on the entrance and going as far as my g-spot. It was a very thorough finger fucking, and he made sure to tease all my sensitive spots, all the while reminding me that I would soon not be able to feel anything. He also made sure to coat my clit, then continued paddling me while we waited for the cream to take effect.
It didn’t take very long at all. About twenty or thirty minutes after application, I started to feel very… little. I could still feel the familiar internal swelling of my pubic region, but I couldn’t feel my clit. It felt somewhat separate from my body. Master rubbed the swollen nub languidly and I reported, somewhat deliriously, that I could not feel his finger. It was almost as though I had some sort of a chastity belt on me. I could feel my desire internally, but it had no way of attaining satisfaction.
That was when Master started fucking me. It was a very strange sensation. I could certainly feel him inside me, but the usual nerve endings on my vaginal wall that sent shudders down my spine and straight to my toes were… dead. I could feel him ramming into my cervix, but that was about it. It was as though I was wearing a tunnel plug like this, except I wasn’t. I fucking loved it.
It was such a rush being used by Master while I obtained no pleasure. There was a marked detachment as his focus shifted from me to him. It was raw, it was selfish and it was brutal. In the past where he attempted to fuck me without me reaching orgasm, he always had to read my signals closely. He had to watch for when I was nearing an orgasm so that he could slow down, stop and pull out so as not to drive me over the edge. The fact that he was able to pound me to abandon without having to concern himself with my pleasure was incredible.
And that’s how we ended, with him spent and powerful, me used and powerless. Wouldn’t have it any other way.
