collection of stories you shouldn't read at work
hey guys, so im pretty new to reddit and this will be my first personal post so be gentle ;)
Ive been modelling for a few years now from my late teens, but ive only been escorting for about a year and through insta for even less time, but ive gotten alot done ;)
Im generally hired for the rougher side of sex so a lot of bdsm type stuff which is great as i love it in my personal life.
I hope to answer as many questions as i can so ask away ;)
Apologies for length and taking a while to get going in the beginning, I enjoy the setting parts of a story a lot, maybe too much. If you want to skip to the good parts, feel free to do so. Also, thinking of making multiple parts to this if there’s interest in what could happen. Ideas always welcomed as are PM’s.
Summer hit like a tidal wave of heat on our little farm town this year. It was like one week we were wearing sweatshirts to beat the brisk 50 degree weather Mother Nature imposed on us and the next even a tank top was too much. Heat wasn’t the issue, we’ve experienced heat down south before, but the suddenness of it make it especially brutal this year. Now, why am I telling you about the weather? Well, it’s simple really. In the comedic form of a Deadpool movie, this is the part where I make a metaphorical reference. Oh, what could heat possibly be referring to? Well, if you guessed a 5’2″, brown-haired, brown-eyed, beautiful country girl, please come collect your prize. She was 21 years old with perky B-cup breasts that fit her small frame [perfectly](https://i.imgur.com/st5Kz87.jpg); not egregiously popping off her chest but enough to still be noticed by any horny guy (or girl) walking by. Amanda was the kind of girl who never really flaunted her sexiness, despite knowing that she was clearly an attractive young woman.
I, (52), am a slave. The slave’s existence fills me. I can drop myself. I am controlled. Fixed. – and yet I feel a freedom, a deep satisfaction that is otherwise denied me. I serve. I discover my limits. I overcame my limits.
I always longed for a mistress. A mistress who takes care of me – not only my body but also my mind. Not only did I want to feel the whip on my skin. I want to be controlled. To be without will. I wanted to serve. Serve without contradiction. I wanted a commander about my will and physique.
My mistress chose me. She saw me as a challenge. The challenge to educate, to shape myself until I met their ideal. That I stopped being, and began to become an object of desire. An object for use. An object without claims. Without expectations – and yet full of longing!
Thoughts on eroticism and sex
I have thought a lot about eroticism and sex, but for professional reasons I even “had“ to do it. In short, I am not yet 30, I have worked in erotic chats for some years as a support. There were BDSM chats and Vanilla sex chats. When I think about eroticism here, I consciously renounce the concepts of man and woman and use only humans or humans. There is a special reason for this, many complain about the lack of humanity, yet people treat each other in sex and eroticism, often as objects, expectations or compensators. Often people are denied the mutual responsibility, the respect, the respect, the empathy, the mutual pleasure-giving, the humor and the joy of each other. Instead, they demand that their counterparts give it fulfillment, of lust, power, desire, passion and ecstasy, only because they need it and want it. If the other person can not do it, wants it or does not feel it, he will be persuaded with all registers. Do not grab the honest and courting. The legitimate and also beautiful, exciting and humorous. Many people like to grasp lies, bad faith, false promises, misrepresent themselves, all on the grounds that they want or have to satisfy their desire, their passion, their needs. If these remedies do not help either, their counterpart is quickly thought, spoken and written inferior. Frigide, not potent, arrogant, those are the nicest thoughts. In the ugliest cases, violence is resorted to, or another opponent is sought, one of whom knows it is defenseless. Everything on the grounds that they are the instincts. Funny that these drives are particularly active when it comes to their own egoism, their own advantages, their own lust, their own passion. But these impulses often fail when it comes to consideration, compassion, respect and giving. People use eroticism and sex to manipulate, to confirm their power, to achieve goals that have nothing to do with sex and eroticism. Still, most seek fulfillment in sex and erotic, longing for it. This yearning does not diminish, the more they try to be selfish, this thirst, this hunger is more and more, eroticism is not enjoyed in the end, it is devoured without that you had a rudimentary enjoyment. Exactly after this enjoyment, this special pleasure that can make any positive cell in one vibrate and shake, that makes us dream, long and crave, for eroticism and sex. You do not get it and yawn more and more after him.
So sex and eroticism are a perfect reflection of society for me. Everyone, really Everyone is responsible for us humans for our frustration, our non-satisfaction, our lack of the particular, our boredom, our not living life, only not ourselves. Who is poor does not have to be unhappy and frustrated and who is rich does not have to, who is single does not have to be unhappy and frustrated and who is not a single does not have to. Especially, our level of frustration increases when we see others happy, satisfied. The laugh and the joy of life. Instead of being inspired by them, we are looking for clues to break their laughter and joy. With which we can justify that they are to blame for our frustration with which we rise to the moral better.
It is no different in eroticism and sex, why work on ourselves. The other one’s guilty, anyway. We give to the media, the porn industry, the sex industry, the emancipates, the machos, the softies, the romantics … blame that we do not come to this special, wonderfully exciting pleasure of eroticism and sex. Why? If you want to enjoy a special meal, you must also make the effort to cook it, or buy it. If you want to live well (I do not mean luxurious), you have to design your home. It requires commitment, feeling, creativity, being open to new things. It takes that one learns, acquires knowledge, etc. Only in the erotic and sex, we mean people it is enough to be born with a drive that makes us all to absolute experts and do everything right in the field. That’s why only what we think is good and right, can only be good, cool and right. Everything else is nonsense. Sex and erotic are just for consumption, so we make the person we want to have sex into a consumer object. Not only do we cheat the person we want to experience eroticism and sex with, we cheat ourselves. We are doing this, not only since the porn, internet, television era. Today, only a lot of publicity because news spread faster and people have the opportunity to publicly talk about it anonymously and act. Thus, the saying that sex and eroticism are the most beautiful trivial thing in the world, suddenly a different meaning, because the word trivial, seems more important than the word to be beautiful. Beautiful is only there as an alibi. So that we can convince ourselves that we do not treat sex and eroticism as an unimportant consumer good. It is only important to us to quickly get some satisfaction with it. Satisfaction of pride, ego, power. Or compensating Or compensating for boredom, frustration, feeling insignificant. At best, we use sex and eroticism to calm an instinct. Maybe, that’s just a thought, should we understand sex and erotic as a beautiful and unique precious gift. That one should love and care for. To be pleased that brings to a deepest fulfillment, unique unparalleled enjoyment, great humor, all-encompassing excitement. A gift that we prepare each other. With which we grow, which makes us curious to discover new things, to learn to learn. Our own initiative awakens us to inform us that we enjoy giving, exciting, getting to know, caring for what makes him happy, exciting and exciting. To listen to him, if it is something that does not fit in our grid. It does not drive anyone hurting, accepting boundaries, if you do not know them, asking them. That we do not use to humiliate others (unless it is agreed, see BDSM), to hurt or abuse. That we do not use to achieve goals. That causes us to rejoice, trust, rejoice, reccommend, honor, not only take but also trust, and thus fall, attention and human dignity to write in big letters. Sex and eroticism with these conditions can be anything. Bdsm, tantra, dao erotic, vanilla, dirty, hot, playful, romantic, porn …, mostly endless fun, excitement and joy!
It all began on a Friday evening where my husband and I spontaneously decided to attend a lifestyle club while in Europe. Here they are referred to as liberal clubs. We are in a country where only I (wife) speak the language. Prior to entering the club we discussed our rules. No soft or full swap. Only together, touching is ok. Our rules are intended to get our feet wet in the lifestyle rather than diving head first and doing something we may not be full 100 % sure of.
As we enter the doors of this club we are taken on a tour of the place. Pools, huge red playroom, BDSM room, glory hole room, Jacuzzi, shower, two bars, a dance floor and an outside patio area with seating.
We head straight for the bar, grabbing our two drinks to start the night. We sit outside people watching. We observe the conversation amongst couples. For mostly trying to pick up on The Vibes exchanged amongst couples in order to better understand how to sort of find what we’re looking for. Now we didn’t come into this club expecting to swap. We didn’t come into this expecting to do anything at all really. We came to have a good time to talk to like-minded people and maybe find someone we click with that we could possibly swap or play with one day.
I was in NYC for work and had a free night so I posted on RAOMD. I received a few responses, but El’s stood out. It was short, yet detailed, and even though we connected through RAOMD, she made clear that she wanted to reciprocate and explore boundaries. We moved to KIK to swap photos and the conversation flowed easily. I dug her smile and big curly hair, and liked her personality, so we set a time to meet at the bar. El shows up and is a little nervous, but relaxes after the first sip of beer. The conversation flows easily, so we finish up our drink and head to my hotel down the street.
We make out in the elevator for one floor and then move it to my room. We get in and move to the bed. As I’m on top of her, making out, she pulls her head away and says, “pause.” I pull back so we can discuss limits and likes. “We good?” I say, and she hesitantly responds with a worried look on her face, “and…uhhh…just a warning…I squirt a lot…”
“Promise?” I say with a big smile.
**bondage dating**
today I want to devote myself to a very beloved passion of mine, Bondage Dating. I as a masochist love such dates very much because several of my desires are served. I am dominated, restricted in my movements, made available for every action that the dominant sadist wants to commit to me, I am strapped to his imagination, I am deprived of my movements. I am at that moment an object of his lust, I love this hopeless pressure, the shackles, the leather, the chains and the ropes. At the same time Bondage Dating is an aesthetic gathering, it’s an art session and I’m part of this erotic gorgeous session. Bondage dating is helplessness. hopelessness and that is so exciting that the pleasure knows no increase, it is perfect. With Bondage Dating you can incorporate all the other exciting fetishes of BDSM, whether Tease & Denial, Orgasm Control, Anal Sex, and so on …… All these beautiful, exciting, extremely lust-provoking fetishes merge into Bondage Dating wonderful blandness of a BDSM session in which I lose myself, go beyond my limits of lust and become completely one with my erotic desires and their fulfillment.
**sm relationship meaning**
After that insanely good Friday night, I was buzzing all Saturday morning. No matter what, my New Orleans trip was going to be a success.
I checked a few messages with other potential partners, but all I was getting was either honest answers of how they weren’t going to make it out, or hints of ghosting. And because I fucked Darling raw the night before, there was only one girl that I was going to be able to fuck without condoms until my next doctor’s visit.
But Saturday, she was feeling Droppy.
Intense sex is a drug. It’s the most natural drug possible, but it’s a drug. It’s a massive release of adrenaline and dopamine and any other feel-good chemical your body has. So while you might feel high and pleasant after a good fuck, you might also feel that counter-swing into a mild depression or hangover. In BDSM, that’s called being Droppy. I only learned the name for this sensation about a year ago myself.
Let me preface by saying, I know I’m a terrible person, I really do!! But if you’re curious about Chapter 1 you can find it in my profile.
NON-CON! Don’t read please if you don’t like this type of stories.
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Chapter 2
Rape was something you heard about on the news, not something you should have experience with. It was hard to reconcile herself to the fact that it’d happened to her.
Ruby paid for her groceries and listlessly loaded everything into her trunk. It was a hot summer day, her favourite kind of weather, but she had abandoned her usual skimpy bodysuit and short skirts in favour of the oversized baggy T-shirt and jeans.
Throughout high school, college, and adulthood, Ruby had always thought women had all the power. Boys—men were just so *damned* stupid. Dangled a feminine body in front of them and they chased around it like dogs chased their own tails. Ruby especially loved to let them think they could have a piece of her, only to reject and taunt them at the last moment. They were always too meek and timid to do anything other than accepting their stupidity. The pushovers, jeeez.
Let me preface by saying, I know I’m a terrible person, I really do!! But if you’re curious about Chapter 1 you can find it in my profile.
NON-CON! Don’t read please if you don’t like this type of stories.
————————————————————————————————-
Chapter 2
Rape was something you heard about on the news, not something you should have experience with. It was hard to reconcile herself to the fact that it’d happened to her.
Ruby paid for her groceries and listlessly loaded everything into her trunk. It was a hot summer day, her favourite kind of weather, but she had abandoned her usual skimpy bodysuit and short skirts in favour of the oversized baggy T-shirt and jeans.
Throughout high school, college, and adulthood, Ruby had always thought women had all the power. Boys—men were just so *damned* stupid. Dangled a feminine body in front of them and they chased around it like dogs chased their own tails. Ruby especially loved to let them think they could have a piece of her, only to reject and taunt them at the last moment. They were always too meek and timid to do anything other than accepting their stupidity. The pushovers, jeeez.