shame account

There's something nirvanic about the feeling of watching them beg for something they want so desperately— so needy for— and seeing their pleasure hinge on your decision and your decision alone. Watching them squirm and whimper away when you tell them no. Watching their thighs twitch, drenched from their own neediness, holding back their own pleasure just because you said so. Seeing how powerful your word is, that your commands are law for them.

Being able to selfishly indulge myself after a long day of being kind and considerate of others by telling my sub they're not going to cum tonight because that'll make me cum harder. That I'm the only one who gets to use their body to cum. That they're going to be a shaky, twitchy mess of a cumdump by the time I'm done with them. Full of loads from giving me better orgasms but not full of any of their own.

How every orgasm they give me while they wait for my permission to cum feels like pure, unfiltered love. Someone loving me so much, wanting to see me happy so much, that they kneel and hump my boot while I mount their face until I cum down their throat as they quiver with need and squeeze their thighs together helplessly. Making them thank me afterwards for denying them so I could cum harder.

The emotional intensity and ego high of knowing this extra pleasure comes specifically at my partner's expense. I already love making them suffer for my amusement, this is just the disparity of power in our relationship laid humiliatingly bare for us to see. It makes my balls swell up with pride and cock burst with love.

It didn't happen overnight. Like a lot of things in our relationship dynamic, it took time and training to turn you into a 24/7 urinal. Your mouth had to build up the stamina. Your lungs got used to the breath deprivation. You figured out the rhythm to swallow me with so your mouth wouldn't overflow. Even I had to remember to over hydrate to make sure what you were drinking from me was sustainable.

When you figured out how to do that I gave you two more rules to follow when you drank me down: swallow loudly and look me in the eye when I use you as a urinal, even if I'm looking elsewhere. Nowadays you do all of that and more. I can see in your eyes how much this degrades you and imagine how bad it must taste. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

Every time I force you down on my shaft to take a leak I bond with you even more, nothing but the sound of your dedication to my happiness and comfort. While I remain relaxed, you are working your hardest to relieve me in the way that most inconveniences you while not spilling a drop. The look in your eyes says "Look how dominant you are, look what you can inspire me to do for you, I hope you like it." And I pat your head while you guzzle and all is right with the world.

I feel so incredibly powerful over you that I can just grab your ponytail, smile down at you, and remind you where you belong by doing a basic bodily function.

I feel so powerful that you give up your breathing, your comfort, and your dignity to suffer, please, and worship me several times a day. I know how hard it is for you to swallow loudly and that it makes you sound like you were desperately thirsty. That's why I'm so strict about enforcing you do it loudly.

I feel so powerful when you clean my cock afterwards, give the tip a cute little kiss, and put me back inside my pants before saying "thank you for using your urinal" with those cute little eyes of yours looking fondly up at me. Nuzzling my bulge before you go to freshen up your breath afterwards.

You feel so powerless to me when you're told to kneel for my piss and your body instinctively obeys. Like it knows where you belong better than you do.

You feel so powerless giving up your breathing, comfort, and dignity to hear me talk about how well-behaved of a hole you've been lately while being completely unable to talk back. The only way you can respond to anything I say is already predefined for you: swallow and keep swallowing. This is your place and you will swallow.

You feel so powerless and are so grateful for the help quieting your brain you have a little ritual cleaning me, licking every last vein of my cock clean and kissing the tip gratefully, so overwhelmed with gratitude you're glowing with adoration when you nuzzle my neatly zipped up bulge and thank me for the opportunity to take a break from the real world and focus on what makes you happy: making me happy. Freshening your breath after because you know I am addicted to kissing you but personally can't handle the taste of it.

There is nothing about this kink that doesn't inconvenience you and I think that's why we both like it. We've spent years cultivating our little kinky corner of the world and playing with how power disparity works. And there is something so romantic about obediently accepting a part of me inside you multiple times a day. Doing something unnatural and uncomfortable and makes you feel like owned property to show you love me in a way no one else on this Earth ever could.