Flying vs. Falling

just a living sex doll as a roommate that will be used any time, no matter what theyre doing they WILL let me use them if i need it. they never get a full night of sleep because they wake up to me on top of them while im filling them up. if theyre at work, i call them them and tell them to meet me in the parking lot so we can have sex in their car, when at home they need to be cockwarming me if we're on the couch. i make food for them and make sure i put in "extra love" into their dish and watch as they eat it with a smile.

after a while, they learn the routine and know to strip as soon as they come home so then its easier for me to get in their hole(s)

dick-having roommates will be caged 24/7 and only let out when it need it or for cleaning

I’d love to host a cute autumn dinner party for some local kink friends. You’d diligently help me set up for the party, prep snacks, and make sure everything is exactly where it should be.

A few minutes before the first guests arrive, I’ll bring you out back, have you kneel against a post in the ground, and chain your wrists above you. You’ll be left naked, chained and in chastity, in full view of the dinner table.

My guests will laugh and point at the helpless creature in the backyard for a few minutes, but quickly forget that you’re there. You’ll become a garden ornament in no time.

“It’s time for your daily curtsey practice, princess.”

She is solicitously ushered to the dance studio, where cheerful hands pull off her dress and stockings.  She’s laid on a mat on the floor, her diaper removed and her under-diaper parts efficiently wiped down.  Gloved fingers – she can’t see just whose – massage an ointment into her clit and pussy lips.  Almost immediately she knows which balm she’s been treated with today: the one that makes her swell and tingle, makes her private parts pink and plump.

“Let’s get you dressed for your lesson, now.”

She used to think of herself as an average-sized woman, but she is lifted so efficiently by her attendants that she feels small and frail.  The leotard is pulled over her head.  Its hem lies in soft scallops just above the well-waxed, already-swelling skin of her mound.  The top is tight enough to force her breasts into strained mounds above a punishing seam, the fabric stretching sheer over nipples that have grown erect against her will.

“Up we go, princess!  Onto the practice stand.”

She’s lifted by her arms, and she knows enough to point her toes as the dildo slides home.  Long and soft, it’s already been oiled for her; she saw the coating glisten over the pink and blue glitter silicone, and anyway she can feel how it slides home like it was made for her.  (For all she knows, it was.)  It’s flexible enough that it doesn’t carry the vibrations from the little, humming bulb attached to the bottom of its upright shaft.

“Remember, right foot forward, left knee tucked back, and do try to be graceful enough that the stand won’t bend.  Now, down.”

She has to do this every day, and she doesn’t hesitate anymore.  Daintily pinching out the short skirt, she sinks into a girlish curtsey, head up, smiling for an invisible audience.  Her pin-curls bounce as she rises in time with the instructions.  She can see herself in the mirrors that circle every studio wall, smiling like a little film star.

“Up … and down.”

She manages to sink deeper this time, feeling the soft silicone ripen into a firmer impalement as her weight compresses it.

“You must touch the curtsey-button, princess!  It’s so easy for you to forget things, isn’t it?  Touch the button each time – Or we shall get the pink cane.  Up … and down.”

On the third try, her plump clit kisses the vibrator.  It’s nearly silent but shockingly powerful, enough to rock her on the stand even as the dildo pushes inexorably at her cervix.  The full dip is always enough to make her feel the dildo in her core.

“Much better, princess!  But mind your balance.  Straight up, straight down.”

She doesn’t need that reminder.  Any torque on the dildo turns this daily practice’s feeling from discomfort to pain.

“Better, dear.  Up … and down.”

And don't get me wrong, I LOVE that. But consider:

I am your prince and you answer only to me. When I say suck, you suck. When i say bend over, the only acceptable question is pants on or off

I am sitting on the throne. You are lucky to be allowed to rut against my boots like a stupid dog. They are fine leather. Better clean up your mess, pup. Touch anything besides my boots and I'm kicking you out

I call the shots in bed. It's my bed after all. If I want a nice wet hole to sink into, you'll just have to sit and take it. I don't care that you usually top. I can't be bothered to have my ass sore. I want something to stick my cock into. Either obey your prince and get fucked or spend the rest of your days in a cell. You decide

The first one is the lowest, where you store a nerd when they haven’t annoyed you or they did good on your homework. It keeps their wedgie tight (duh) but just that - barely painful, feet flat on the floor, just a constant reminder of their place. Only good dweebs get rewarded with the first hook, and they should thank you for it.

The next hook is deceptively only about six inches higher, but any loser can tell you with a cringing memory of pain that those inches make a major difference. This second hook is where most dorks spend the majority of their time. Toes just barely brushing the ground as they dangle, their wedgie pulled up to their neck. It gives them a false sense of control, even as their squirming just makes it tug worse.

Finally, the highest hook. Most nerds will start begging and crying if you say they’re getting the third hook, knowing that they’re going to be left hanging completely off the ground, helplessly suspended by their wedgie splitting them in half. This is where really annoying bully bait goes. Make sure to keep them there until they’re just hanging helplessly, knowing there’s nothing they can do but wait for your mercy.