שטויות שרשמתי בפטלייף

In the height of your sensory deprived state, where all you could feel is the breathe against your skin and the ginger pecks in your lips - all while you're unable to reciprocate the kiss with your hands. Your arms tied behind your back in handcuffs that are attached to the butt plug that peaked out from between your cheeks and managed to keep the chains taut and pull your hands down to your ass.

Your legs spread akimbo, the lightest of strokes on your wet cunt and then.. THUD, a smack on your hot pussy. A hand wraps itself around your neck, pressing at the sides and avoiding crashing your windpipes; the same hand that smacked your cunt earlier now returning for an encore.
Thud, another smack that even hurt the one who put you in that situation to begin with. His middle and ring finger shoving themselves to the folds of your hot cunt, fingertips edging and yearning to dig into you and find whatever treasure lies within.

He puts a snug collar around your neck and attaches a metal chain as a leash, letting the cold steel touch your chest and your abdomen. The tug on the chain to make you follow, fingers now burrowing into your pussy and making it a little uncomfortable for you to walk forward and in the direction of the pulling.
Sitting you on a little stool with a dildo firmly attached to the surface of the stool, guiding your wet and dripping pussy down to slowly swallow the length of that toy and then keep you fully seated, lips touching the base and inner thighs grasping at the frame of the stool in a sense.

Rubbing his wet fingers against your lips and slowly pushing his two fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself as you're still blindfolded and unable to really hear anything.
Pushing his fingers down on your tongue, slowly prying open that little mouth of yours and spitting into it. The fucking of your mouth by his two long, thick fingers has now begun and he's planning a little bit more to do with you.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth after he was satisfied with how well you handled yourself, walks behind you and pushes you forward. Unlocking the handcuffs and unbinding your hands from behind your back. THUMP A loud noise had filled the room and as he spanked your left ass cheek, then incrementally raised the power behind each smack upon your rump, alternatively smacking each one of your cheeks and in 6 seconds increments for a total of 10 hard smacks each.

Now in front of you, he puts your hands on his knees with his cock now pressed against your face. Letting you figure out for yourself what he wanted you to do.

What would you do? ❤️

There's some things that cannot be changed, such as the turmoils of bondage and the snug fit of leather and coarse hemp rope against the soft skin, but some things are more enjoyable.

Harsh spanks until there's only pain and lust in one's eyes, the craving for more, to be handled wrongly and with intimidating affection.
Hair pulled, choked by the neck and slapped across the face when one feels like it.
The harsh reality is, why bother with restraints when you have a participant who's more than yearning to be abused and manhandled? It is her choice after all, to entrust you with that kind of control.

Submission and control don't come cheap, there's trust to be earned and an emotional attachment to be abused without being restrained. Knowing that while she can escape and leave - she's staying because she wants to, she wants to have your hand imprinted on her behind, the feeling of your warm hand around her neck.

The idea of teasing and abusing a woman to the point that she simply cannot take it anymore, to the point where she is so desperate to reach her orgasm from having her orifice spread apart by something of yours, there's a special spot in my heart and mind for women who simply put - tend to lose control when suddenly being given it.
Seeing the docile little lady who was spanked without remorse, fingered roughly but not deep enough to sate her desires, choked and had hair pulled to look up at you - turn into a ravenous little monster who wants nothing more than to cum and nothing more. That sense of primal instinct, not a thought in mind other than just to finally have her release and her orgasm.

Now that... is fun.

More often than not, you'd find yourself in a situation where you're giving your sense of self and your corporeal form freely to your significant other, be it a lover, a husband or just a random person you decided to let yourself be exposed to.

Brats are a source of enjoyment, I mean.. who wouldn't want to have to fight for their place on top, every single time ? I know I would.
You win some and you lose some, it's a struggle and it's a fight for control. Total domination - while it's got it's allure and enjoyment; not that exciting when you're subservient and not trying to get yourself into a little bit of trouble just because you got bored.

And here come the idea of Brats.
Argue, pick on and pick at the hornet's nest to get stung and enjoy it.
Get slapped around, choked, prodded and probed with digits and a cornucopia of items at the disposal of your significant other.
Get manhandled, tossed around and used for the enjoyment of your temporary betters, get bitten and licked... it's a lovely harmonious system of fun.

Petplay can often be associated with being a brat because you're letting yourself be something you're usually not. You bite, you're vocal, you want to play and goof around for attention and sometimes - you get spanked and other times - you get fucked.
Ain't that lovely?

The use of toys, of a snug collar that fits your neck oh-so-perfectly. The cold chains or the leathery leash that's attached to it and sometimes hugs you tightly and makes you remember that you're still a pet to a certain someone. A plug to remind you of your pet identity, the ears to match and the mindset that'll follow along with it.
At the core of every dominant person is to tame and control, none of us want to shy down from a fight when it's something we enjoy doing. Fight us, make it difficult and enjoyable. Make us look at you with admiration after all was said and done and we're just a panting, wheezing mess with nothing but our bodies feeling tired and slightly sluggish.

Total control, not worth having if one can simply have a lovely little human to annoy and bother; then turn into a screaming mess of a person. Control ought to be earned, sometimes taken(if given consent prior.) and above all - control never means the ignoring of safe words.

Ask your submissive and your brat if they're okay, help them up, give them the princess treatment if need be. They gave you their all, they let you physically abuse them for their enjoyment and theirs - they trusted you with something they wouldn't let everyone do.
Care for them, cherish them, love and adore them. As much as you want to make them into your little plaything - they need to be assured of the fact that they're in your mind for more than just sex.

Ta, you creepy cretins. <3

Often times, I don't get to experience what it feels like to have to deal with a brat in person, but when I do - it's absolutely adorable.

The kind of brat who's bossy outside of the bedroom stuff, knows what she wants to eat, what she wants to wear and above all - what she wants to do that day.
The kind of brat that knows that if you decide to pull her pants down and spank her ass cheeks until they show a few different colours, lick her holes or stuff digits or items up said holes; nothing's going to stop you and the only thing left to do is protest and maybe try and milk more of that attention.
The kind of brat that will melt in your arms like butter after a while, not knowing what to say or do anymore without your say or guidance. An absolute cutie who after fighting you for control over her, the challenge and the snarky remarks while you're fidgeting with her orifices..

I got to feel these types of brats, three times in a row. Three different women, three different personalities and all of them - melted butter and just clung onto me to call me daddy and beg for more attention.
I've choked, I've spanked, I've lifted one up and manhandled her like she was nothing (She was ridiculously petite.) I've fingered, edged, pulled onto their hair and made one need help being moved to the bathroom.

There's something intriguing about it, about how the fight they have in them slowly disappears and gets replaced with a need to be used, abused and have their hips, shoulders, thighs, breasts or ass grabbed onto while being fucked so hard that the echoes in the room or the living room floor just gets filled up with moans, cries and the sound of flesh being hit.
I like that.

I do miss toying with someone's mind though, to drive them mad and horny to the point where all they are is much like being a deer in the headlights, knowing nothing more than what's in front of them. Be it a cock in front of their face, seeing their own faces while they get manhandled from behind and used like a stress relief and fleshlight. I miss the sounds, I miss the moans, I miss the begs for more.

I do try and abstain from it now, though much as I try - there's plenty of lovely women that make me have improper thoughts. I mean, having those thoughts and acting on them - two different stories.