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justablondie
Meteorite
- Joined
- Jul 8, 2025
The dynamics:
It's the thrill of an unknown or secret relationship with an older guy, someone who I shouldn't be with, being me with him while everyone else gets the proper side of me. Being pinned up by a wall by you and maybe a friend, roughhousing and wrestling until someone loses or gets hurt. Certainly it would be me, feeling overwhelmed by the both of you. You could do what you wanted, but its sweet of you that you don't take it farther than that. It's finding me on the couch early in the morning, or late at night, tickling me while I try not to make a sound and wake others up. You're having fun, and I'll let you. It's the playful mixture of hugs and snaps of the palm or fist. Treating me like one of the guys and not some princess. It's not being afraid to berate me, take away my luxuries, get me into trouble, leave me to myself, or really go all out hurting me to make a point or get back at me. It's the playful grabs of the neck, or tugs of the hair, that could all easily become rough and painful. I'll giggle along with it. It's how I feel when you or a friend have my hands pinned, or my wrists restrained. I'll gently tug and resist for fun. Make me feel small and powerless. I enjoy making you happy.
Here's some very very general ideas and can be hashed out more.
A hitchhiker. I've run off. You spotted me first. How could you miss me, I stood out among the people and environment, run down and old. I didn't belong, clearly. I'll hop in with you, naively going on a road trip to what I hope is a better place. Along the way, there are no rules right? But it's not always fun and games. And we're both troublemakers in our own way. I mean, who would just pick up a random stranger? Someone with little to lose.
A new neighbor. I opened up to you first, maybe to your surprise. I came over to hang out with a bbq or small family gathering. It's the first time you'd be able to put hands on me. And after that you'd invite me over a few times. A fun board game with some punishment along the way. You might invite me to a party, one that I don't really understand, but I knew I'd get money for it. I go along with it. And you're not the only one that might put their hands on me.
A professor and student. You spotted me first, I've kept to myself a lot and was so focused on my studies that I ignore everyone and everything else. I had no life other than studying. I looked up to you from the moment you sat down to talk to me. I'd do anything for more knowledge, to be the best, and to earn my PHD. I don't know how to react when you put your hands on me at first. I've never experienced that before. Surprise me in the stairwell or insist I come stay after. Eventually talk me into moving in with you, so I can soak up as much information as possible. It's the perfect place to bind my hands together.
Apocalyptic safehouse. You've done well, hiding out in your little farmhouse. It was well hidden and far from anything useful. You had few visitors. And you know how to deal with them. I was the first to stumble on in, but you didn't immediately stab me dead right there. I don't trust you, and I don't want to deal with you, anymore than you do me. But the gunshots outside kept us both quiet and in place for a moment, or was it your need to keep your place a secret? There are no rules. Violence and manipulation and stealing was common and expected. The more strength, resources, weapons you might have the stronger you may be. Women may not be killed, but they sure are likely to be abused. Even if you're a savior you just can't help yourself.
Boss and the intern. I'm so lucky to have this job. So thankful that I brushed it aside and ignored it when you put a hand on my back, poked me a few times, and played with my hair. It grows as you push the boundary farther and farther. Just how far can you go with things? How much am I willing to put up with?
It's the thrill of an unknown or secret relationship with an older guy, someone who I shouldn't be with, being me with him while everyone else gets the proper side of me. Being pinned up by a wall by you and maybe a friend, roughhousing and wrestling until someone loses or gets hurt. Certainly it would be me, feeling overwhelmed by the both of you. You could do what you wanted, but its sweet of you that you don't take it farther than that. It's finding me on the couch early in the morning, or late at night, tickling me while I try not to make a sound and wake others up. You're having fun, and I'll let you. It's the playful mixture of hugs and snaps of the palm or fist. Treating me like one of the guys and not some princess. It's not being afraid to berate me, take away my luxuries, get me into trouble, leave me to myself, or really go all out hurting me to make a point or get back at me. It's the playful grabs of the neck, or tugs of the hair, that could all easily become rough and painful. I'll giggle along with it. It's how I feel when you or a friend have my hands pinned, or my wrists restrained. I'll gently tug and resist for fun. Make me feel small and powerless. I enjoy making you happy.
Here's some very very general ideas and can be hashed out more.
A hitchhiker. I've run off. You spotted me first. How could you miss me, I stood out among the people and environment, run down and old. I didn't belong, clearly. I'll hop in with you, naively going on a road trip to what I hope is a better place. Along the way, there are no rules right? But it's not always fun and games. And we're both troublemakers in our own way. I mean, who would just pick up a random stranger? Someone with little to lose.
A new neighbor. I opened up to you first, maybe to your surprise. I came over to hang out with a bbq or small family gathering. It's the first time you'd be able to put hands on me. And after that you'd invite me over a few times. A fun board game with some punishment along the way. You might invite me to a party, one that I don't really understand, but I knew I'd get money for it. I go along with it. And you're not the only one that might put their hands on me.
A professor and student. You spotted me first, I've kept to myself a lot and was so focused on my studies that I ignore everyone and everything else. I had no life other than studying. I looked up to you from the moment you sat down to talk to me. I'd do anything for more knowledge, to be the best, and to earn my PHD. I don't know how to react when you put your hands on me at first. I've never experienced that before. Surprise me in the stairwell or insist I come stay after. Eventually talk me into moving in with you, so I can soak up as much information as possible. It's the perfect place to bind my hands together.
Apocalyptic safehouse. You've done well, hiding out in your little farmhouse. It was well hidden and far from anything useful. You had few visitors. And you know how to deal with them. I was the first to stumble on in, but you didn't immediately stab me dead right there. I don't trust you, and I don't want to deal with you, anymore than you do me. But the gunshots outside kept us both quiet and in place for a moment, or was it your need to keep your place a secret? There are no rules. Violence and manipulation and stealing was common and expected. The more strength, resources, weapons you might have the stronger you may be. Women may not be killed, but they sure are likely to be abused. Even if you're a savior you just can't help yourself.
Boss and the intern. I'm so lucky to have this job. So thankful that I brushed it aside and ignored it when you put a hand on my back, poked me a few times, and played with my hair. It grows as you push the boundary farther and farther. Just how far can you go with things? How much am I willing to put up with?
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