what makes my blood rush

CW: cnc that's a bit weird about the c part, emotional sadism, rape kink metacommentary

"It's not exactly rape if you're enjoying it." I point out.

"Just because I'm asking for it doesn't mean I would enjoy it."

Not the answer I was expecting. The usual response I get is one of mildly frustrated pushback, pouty faces, muttered accusations of I-know-but-you're-supposed-to-play-along. I have a reputation, and that reputation invites a crowd I don't care for.

See, people say 'rape' and mean 'sex we pretend I am not into', because they've got hangups about being into sex. Of course we all have hangups - I just don't want to indulge those particular ones. It always feels like I'm expected to read someone's mind and then play dumb about what I see there.

She continues. "I know myself. Know I'd hate it in the moment. Just thinking about it makes my stomach seize up. Talking about it, too. And yet I want it. Simple as that."

"You can want it. Doesn't mean you can consent to it."

It's bait. But I want to know her own justification, in her own words.

"People get tattoos, run ultramarathons until their bodies give out, take molly and struggle their way through suicide Tuesday. This isn't any different. I get to make my future self suffer if I want to."

I nod, pretend to think for a moment. Then I speak.

"Six months. One month. And then three months."

A moment to build anticipation before I explain.

"Six months for me to work my way into your life. Calls. Hangouts. Heart-to-hearts. One month for me to strike, if I feel like it then. No restrictions beyond that. Maybe I'll get you at midnight on the first day. Maybe I'll wait a bit. Maybe I'll tell you I changed my mind, that I just want to be friends, and then I slip something in your drink two days before the deadline."

Words are so fucking limited a medium. I desperately want to describe the face she makes at that. I settle for committing it to memory. Outwardly, I just keep talking.

"And then, three months where I won't do anything. Won't allow anything. Time for you to think about what happened. I suggest spending some of it far away from me."

I watch her think. Stare hard enough at the cave wall, and maybe you'll figure out what's casting the shadows. I'm not acting the way she expected. But I'm not acting the way she feared, either.

Eventually, she decides that she understands me. Her voice is softer than it was a moment ago. Reverent.

"...you're giving me time. To make sure this isn't a whim. To process everything. You... obviously you're okay with me being hurt. But you don't want me to be hurt more than necessary."

Something inside of me shifts.

I don't quite know how it shows itself. I've tried to understand, though - have asked a few people to describe how I look like this. Sudden and terrifying, one got stuck on. A more poetically inclined soul said it was like I swapped out the soul behind my eyes.

"Do I?"

How would she describe it, I wonder?

"Maybe I just want to build trust before I violate it. Maybe I want to watch you, month after month, as you grow ever more comfortable around me. Maybe I want to see you try and forget what I'm going to do to you. Maybe I just want time to make sure it hurts as much as possible."

She doesn't flinch, but I watch her pupils dilate, her hands clench. There's a gap between being composed and being calm, and I fight the urge to stick a knife in there and pry it all the way open. I do twist it, just a bit.

"Or maybe I just want to make it seem like I care. Play the part of the ethical sadist because that's a type of person you need to be real. You're a good person. If you think I am too, if you think everything I did was with your well-being in mind, then I'm safe. You won't do a thing to hurt me. Won't think I deserve that."

There's a moment, uncertain and delicious, where I wonder if she'll turn and run, but no one ever does. I soften my expression in a flash, keep quiet but smile in a way that implies a thousand reassurances. Did you have fun? Are you okay? The scary dom act really got to you, didn't it? I hope it wasn't too much?

She relaxes a bit, and that's when I go in for the kill.

"God. You really are so eager to assume the best of someone willing to rape you."

I savor the way she shivers at that. Whatever my other reasons, everything I said, I said so I could see this.

deciding that enough is enough, his dom buys him a double dildo chastity belt. the first time he shows it to the boy he starts crying, realising what he’s gotten himself into. his dom ties his hands together behind his back before slipping a gag into his mouth, whiping a tear off of his cheek and petting his head. the chastity belt is placed on a low chair and the dom leads the boy up to it. he’s whining and protesting behind his gag and making small attemps at getting away, but he’s small and his dom is so big and strong that he knows he’d never have a chance. the dom cuffs his ankles to the legs of the chair, forcing them apart, before starting to ease the boy down onto the dildos.

the boy panics as he feels his pussy lips and the rim of his asshole parting for the foreign objects, knowing that his holes aren’t going to close again for a long time. his little pussy is forced to split open for the huge dildo and his asshole clenches around it’s toy, struggling against the intrusion, but to no avail. the stretch is almost too much and he cries out, but the dom keeps pressing him further down onto the toys.