Who Wants a Bone?

they offer themselves on a silver platter; no panties, bending over, pouty eyes, calling me sweet things, grinding up on me at every chance. but they never ask for what they want.

so they dont get it.

instead they get a thumb in their mouth, cheeks pulls, hands everywhere but where they need them, and “cmon baby”s, until they finally tell me what they want.

500 notes = 1 hr of overstim

Usually when a post like this blows up, I wonder if it's not clear enough that it's a rape fantasy.

I mean, you know that's what's happening here, right? I do not have your best interests at heart.

I think there's a belief that if someone tells you something about yourself, if it sounds right and they sound genuine then it must be right in a meaningful sense. Or further, an idea that I, tumblr user ace-trainer-alice, being evidently experienced in the act of observation, must be good at it.

The truth is that most of us who are 'good at observing' are just confident. I like to think I'm good at it, but I know if I confidently tell someone something about themselves and string it together with tangible evidence, they'll believe it regardless of the actual truth value. The qualia gap means that all observation is flawed and limited. An important thing that makes it work is the fact that I believe it enough that you're likely to.

And, more than that, your inexperience being perceived makes you even more vulnerable to this. Do you even know how easy it'd be for someone to give you a single drop of ichor just to let you crystallize a personality around it that all links back to them? Your naivete makes you groomable. Your past experience being a victim has only made you better and better at it. You're practically gift-wrapped.

The point of this is that I find that hot. Your vulnerability is attractive to me. The idea that you all are so desperate for something that I can provide turns me on. And it's certainly not because I want to take care of you.

Right. Now, today we're learning how to submit. There are a number of positions that let other dogs know that you're a nice little puppy who's ready to be bred. This first one is simple. You're already on all fours, which is good. I'm gonna put my hand on your head to guide you down to—

Hm. Hold on. Your muzzle's not supposed to be loose. Let me tighten it. Hey hey, stay down. I said down. Fucking listen to me. Bad dog. I...fuck, why isn't the remote working? Did you fucking sabotage the shock collar? Stop it. Get off of me, stupid fucking mutt...ow! Shit, did you just bite me? Oh my god, I think you drew blood that time.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Wait. Please. Jesus, how are you so strong? This is embarrassing. Let me up. Ow. What the fuck is—what's that? Hey! You're not allowed to mount me, you fucking pervert. Stop it. I...no I'm not turned on by this. Stop. It's just because you're...prodding at me...no other reason. Fuck.

Oh god, you're so big. Slow down! Slow—please pup. Please. Oh my god, I can't think when you're—agh—ramming into me like this...your hand on the back of my neck...you brainless fucking mutt. Is this what you were planning this whole time? Ow ow ow I'm sorry I'm sorry. I won't talk back anymore. I'm sorry.