Dangerousangleofadream - Femdom

Remember now, during your intro questionnaire be sure to give the most accurate answer you can. Submitting verbal responses such as "Go to hell", "Fuck you" and "Let Me Go!" only forces caseworkers to fill in the blanks with the strongest option, or the one the caseworker prefers. If you decide to be rude at the wrong time, you'll find yourself signed up for a trip to the operating room so our lovely team of brain surgeons can help clear up your weird idea that you're a boy~

"i like u" ok so are u willing to suffocate while eating my pussy then?

Rethinking Facesitting

For me, facesitting always seemed to be just another male fantasy, and I only did it as a special treat for him. Whenever I tried to sit on his face, it did feel good. It got me revved up as his tongue technique is stellar, but the position was never quite right for me to really let go and experience orgasm.

Having to maintain balance, ensuring he could breathe, and worrying about hurting him with my weight was too much of a distraction to be able to cum. That’s why I have always preferred to lay back, get comfortable, and let him go down on me.

Recently, when I decided to treat him in this manner, my opinion changed completely. I don’t really know what was different this time from the others, maybe practice makes perfect, but it seemed much better.

I enjoyed a nice slow buildup as he took his time, just enjoying my taste. With my eyes closed, I got lost in my fantasy world, and before I knew it, I was so close.

Forgetting in that instant that I was sitting on his face and needed to be careful not to hurt him, I lost control of myself and started grinding hard into his face, taking all the pleasure and sensation I could possibly get, and giving myself an amazing orgasm.

And you know what? It didn’t hurt him in the least and he didn’t die of suffocation. When I got off of his face he looked like a drowned rat, but he was grinning and told me how awesome it was, that he enjoyed it as much as I did. It left him extremely sexually frustrated which is always a good thing.

Knowing that I just rode his face as hard as I could, driving myself into him with all my might, I realized that I don’t have to worry about hurting him any longer.

If it could be this good consistently, I would want to facesit him for my own pleasure, not just as a treat for him. The last few times, I just sat my full weight on him and truly enjoyed myself. It was so hot when he was struggling, turning his face side to side, trying to get air.

I love that I have more control of the action, bearing down on him in the moments when I want more sensation, and lifting off when I want to calm down a bit. I now like the fact that he doesn’t make me orgasm, rather, I remain in control and initiate the orgasm myself exactly when I want it.

We aren’t having sex. I am just using him as a tool to masturbate myself on.

Assertive Young Ladies #147

We’d been at dinner for about half an hour when she looked at me in that  certain way and said “When we get home, I’m going to hurt you. Does that make you excited?”

“Yes m’am.”

“I’m going to hurt you a lot. I’m going to make you cry, and then hurt you more. It’s going to be a very long night for you. I want you fragile. I want you compliant. Thinking about you on your knees, bruised and begging, is making me incredibly wet, do you know that?”

“yes m’am.” I was sweating now. 

“I feel like caning you. I feel like hurting your balls. I feel like shocking them and watching you squirm while i masturbate.”

Her hand was below the table. I could tell she was stroking herself, but she never broke eye contact with me.

“In fact, I think it’s time you spent some time in the chair again, don’t you? It’ll be nice to have the bed to myself after I wear myself our on you, don’t you think?”

I shuddered. The chair was a thing she’d seen on Kink and had me build for us. It was designed for “nondamaging prolonged discomfort,” and she’d only strapped me in once before. 

Now, apparently, she intended me to spend the night in it. 

“Give me your keys and wallet.” I looked at her quizzicly. “NOW.”

I did. She popped them in her purse. “Can’t have you running off, now, can we?” She rose. I started to follow, but she pushed me back into my chair. “Just the ladies, love. Wait here like a good boy.”

When she came back, she stood in front me and smiled evily. “Open.”

“Huh?”

“Open your mouth or I’ll start the beating here.”

I complied. She stuffed her panties into my mouth. They were wet – very wet – and acrid. She’d peed on them. She wiped her hand on my face.

“Good boy.”

She dropped some cash on the table.

“So when we get home, I want you to strip in the garage, and crawl into the basement. Lock your collar around your neck, and lock your hands behind your back. Then wait.”

She liked waiting. The basement was cold, and the collar was heavy. 

“I think I’ll start with a little time-out. You like time-out, don’t you? With some special sauce?”

I did not. Time out meant a stressful tie and a long wait before something worse – and during the wait, it always got worse. Special sauce meant she was going to rub IcyHot on my balls before we started, too. If was s

“Then I’m going to spank your balls. I really love how you howl when I do that, but if you make too much noise I’ll gag you.