Edging Them But Making Them Talk To Me And Think While They Do. Asking Them Confusing Questions Until

Edging them but making them talk to me and think while they do. Asking them confusing questions until they’re so dumb and out of it they can only pant and moan.

“Awwwh, your brain can’t keep up? Just too hard to think? That’s okay, I’ll do the thinking for you, you can trust me. See? You already feel better under my control, you know you prefer it when I control everything. Come here. Just grind on my shoe, enjoy the sensations and I’ll handle the rest from here. That’s a good, brainless doll.”

C/W: Rape

I’d love to meet a girl off here and take her on a date.

I’d meet her on Tumblr, charming her with every message. I’d come off as friendly and endearing, flirting and sexting when appropriate. I’d learn her kinks and needs, twisting her into a wet, sopping mess with every text I send her. I’d make her think of me, filling her head with thoughts of my voice, my body, my cock in every waking moment. It’d be weeks, perhaps days, before we’d arrange to meet, a train journey or a bus ride away.

We’d meet in some cafe, exchanging warm smiles and hugs. That’s where it’d begin. She’d notice my hands lingering a little too long, a little too low, practically groping her. She’d simply shrug it off. She’d forget all about it while we’d sip on our coffees, exchanging friendly conversation. We’d mesh well off screen, laughing and joking the afternoon away.

I’d suggest a stroll through the woods, almost like an afterthought while we figure out how to spend the rest of the afternoon. We’d find ourselves, trudging along some narrow dirt pathway, the skies getting darker, the woods getting denser. And then it’d hit her. She barely knew me.

One second she’d be side-eyeing me cautiously, the next she’d be pinned against some tree in the lonely depths of the forest. She’d scream, the piercing scream of fear. I’d let her. No one would hear us.

She’d beg me to stop, to reconsider, but I’d tear down her cute skirt. Isn’t this what she wanted? She’d read my blog. She needed this just as much as my stiff, aching cock did. I’d hold her down, rubbing my cock against her bare ass, telling how hard she’d made me. What a good fucking girl she was for making her rapist’s cock ready to breed her. Her begging would turn feverish and constant, wishing this was some cruel joke.

I’d plunge my shaft inside her cunt, laughing as she struggles and fights against me. In and out, I’d wetten my cock in her, stirring up her insides with heavy, savage strokes. She’d feel her sanity slip away. She’d have chosen this. I’d convince her this was her fault. All those nights promising me what a good rapetoy she’d be for me. And she’d deliver on her promise, crying and sobbing, begging me to stop, struggling to fight her fate.

I’d rail her slick, broken twat while her face grates against the coarse bark, sinking my fingers into her soft, jiggly ass. Shit, I’d spank those perfect fucking spheres, watching them redden and ripple with each strike. I’d lovingly break her down into a set of holes, moulded to service my cock. 

Thick ropes of cum would plaster her insides, leaking out of her weak frame. I’d throw her down and wipe my cock clean with her hair. In sweet, gentle tones, I’d ask her where she lived. I’d point out that she couldn’t walk right now, and that the night was drawing closer.

[Channelling my inner hedge fund CEO with this one.]

C/W: Gaslighting

Come again? You want to quit? No, sweetheart, you don’t. No, I’m telling you that you don’t want to quit. What’s happened here is that you’ve gotten a little overwhelmed with our… new working relationship recently and you just need a little refresher. That’s okay. Come here. Good girl. See? Fuck… this body doesn’t deserve to be hidden away in these tight, slutty clothes of yours. It belongs to be out here, doesn’t?

Of all the things you were, clever was never one of them. Hey, hey, it’s okay. Now, you started your career at this firm eking out a meagre existence of filing paperwork, filling in paperwork, scanning more fucking paperwork, you get the idea. And you would have spent the rest of your life doing just that. You’d take the smallest amount of money we’d give you to keep you quiet but not so little that you’d leave. That’s how you’d spend your life.

Now look at you in your top of the line clothing and expensive perfumes. No, there’s no need to hide it. I touch these clothes and smell these perfumes everyday. Be a sweetheart and take out my cock for me, darling. If you really plan on leaving, consider it a farewell gift. Good… Good fucking girl… Nobody makes my cock twitch like you do. With all my money, I couldn’t buy a fucking whore that can handle my dick like you can.

You were some nameless little drone, tucked away and doomed to be forgotten until I saw you. I wanted you. Do you hear that? Are you listening, miss? My cock twitched the second it saw you. I imagined bending you over that table and stealing you away from your manager, your boyfriend, anyone that would stand in my way. And I still feel that way.

Even though… Fuck, yes pump my cock like that… even though you fucked up that little fucker of a case last month or the Evans case three months ago. Your time under my wing has been marked by little mistakes. But do you know why I keep you? Because you make me cum so hard. You drain every drop of stressed up spunk from my balls and you do it like a pro. Even now, when you’re so hell bent on leaving your hands are threatening to make me buckle. Now bend over. Yeah, on my desk. Nobody’s going to walk in, sweetheart.

Shiiit, you’re as tight as the day I first fucked you. You know what I really like about you? What makes you better and more addictive than Miss Timbers on the third floor or Mrs Raynard in the legal department? You have better tits and a much, much tighter pussy. You’re so much fucking better than them. And you know what that means, don’t you? It means you could make so much more money than them.

You and I both know you’re not my secretary on merit alone. Walk out of here and there won’t be a single firm in the city that’ll pay you as much as I do. Not nearly as much. And all you have to do to keep up your fancy little brunches and sweet cars is get on your knees every once in a while and do what you were born to do. Just. Suck. My. Cock.

That’s all. It’s that easy. Sure, there'll be a little bit of fucking in between, but we both know you enjoy that. What do you say to that? Yes? Atta girl. Now go and lock the door. I’m going to slip out of these trousers. We’re going to need to celebrate your new payrise.

Why do you call yourself a sadist if you draw the line at breaking skin? Do you even enjoy giving pain consensually? Because that's what sadism is about...

Can you be an artist and dislike painting? A musician and not play the piano? An athlete and not run track?

Sadism, much like most other catagories of sexual identity, is a spectrum. While one sadist could adore everything from whipping to knife play, another could only get off on hand spanking and their sadist sexual identity would still be completely valid.

For me, sadism is about getting psychological and sexual satisfaction from the various sensations I can cause in a submissive, particularly pain and discomfort. I also enjoy the power dynamics and feelings that those sensations can create between us. I enjoy bruising and marking subs quite a lot, but I don't like making them bleed. I don't get any enjoyment from it, and the risks associated with drawing blood aren't worth it to me.

no, i’m not going to be an obedient little slut for you right away. i’m gonna struggle while you hold me down, i’m gonna kick and bite and scratch and if you want the right to cum in me, your gonna have to hold me down and fuck me hard enough to earn it.

Imagine going to a frat party only to see one of your friends tied up in a side room, gagged and whimpering. frat bros sip their beers and stroke their cocks, all waiting for their turn as the guy fucking her jokes about how tight the sluts pussy is.

Horrified, You try to back out but your "friend" grabs you from behind, you pinning your arm to your side as he gropes your tits

"Hey guys, I got more fuck holes for us to play with!"

Ever man there cheers, more hands grabbing you and drag you to a couch. You start to cry out, but are helpless against all the men around you who work to rip your clothes off.

Before long you're airtight on rapist cock, each guy taking a turn with your holes. Those cocks feel so good that you can't help but cum over and over as they take their turns using you like a fleshlight.

"Hey, let's see if we can knock this bitch up".

By the time morning comes around you have dozens of guys loads dripping out of your gang raped pussy. And dozens more every night after that.