slumberpartydreams

[slumberpartydreams]

rope vibe: outdoor bondage, in the shade of a tree in the shade on a warm day, laid on a soft blanket in the grass and tied up to have a slight nap, and fed a picnic as its form is marvelled over and appreciated. simply a pleasant day enjoying the fresh air and gentle breeze, while we have soft intimate fun with the rope.

[slumberpartydreams]

Need to be groped right now. Need someone’s hands to wander over my body and grab where they want to. To feel loved and wanted and held, while also feeling their own need and lust through their desperate grabbing… I need it

[slumberpartydreams]

there's something about pulling on a boys belt loops and seeing the look in his eyes when his hips move, almost starting to wonder if i really pulled that hard, or maybe he just really wants it that badly. desperation is so sweet to see <3

[slumberpartydreams]

wanna use a pretty boy like a little experiment doll. lay down for me and be a good boy while ‘m testing everything out and seeing what makes you twitch the hardest or moan the loudest, but we gotta keep going no matter how much you cum because ‘m just too determined to figure my pretty boy out, okay? <3

[slumberpartydreams]

'You call the shots, babe I just wanna be yours'

[slumberpartydreams]

quick study of this 1988 doc martens ad

[slumberpartydreams]

He said it was $200 for the night, and you didn’t really need the money, but you hadn’t eaten properly in two days and your bank balance was sitting in the negatives, so you told yourself it would be easy. He looked normal in the photo. Not some faceless torso in a mirror. Just a man, older than you, clean-cut, strong hands. You tell yourself you’ve done worse. You tell yourself you can leave.

He opens the door like he was already standing there. Looks you over without a word, then steps aside and says, “Alright. Shoes off. Phone on the counter.” His voice is even, low, not especially warm. You step inside. It smells like fresh laundry and the faint bite of antiseptic. His place is spotless. You leave your shoes by the door. You put your phone down. The screen lights up once before going still.

“Stand still,” he says.

You stop in the middle of the room, wearing a soft, oversized t-shirt, and a pair of tight black shorts you pulled on without thinking. No boxers underneath. You didn’t expect to get this far.

He walks slowly around you, circling his prey, taking his time. You feel the weight of his eyes on the back of your neck. He doesn’t touch you yet. Just observes. Then he steps closer, and his hand reaches down, fingers hooking beneath the hem of your shirt. He drags them up lightly across your hip, then cups your ass in one palm and squeezes. Not playfully. Like he’s weighing it. Like he’s checking quality.

“This is what you came in?” he asks, tone light. “Didn’t even bother trying to make it difficult.”

You open your mouth to say something - you’re not even sure what -but he’s already moving. One hand presses flat against your upper back, steady and firm, while the other grabs the collar of your shirt and yanks it up over your head. The movement is clean, practiced. He tosses it to the floor without looking.

Then his fingers hook into your waistband. He doesn’t ask. He just pulls. The shorts slide down your thighs in one motion, and when he sees you’re not wearing anything underneath, he lets out a soft, amused exhale through his nose. He taps your ankle with the side of his boot and you step out of them. Now you’re naked. The air is cold on your skin. You keep your eyes on the wall.

He steps in close. His hand presses between your thighs, sliding through slick. He spreads you open without warning, then drags his fingers upward until they catch under your t-dick and make you jolt.

“Already soaked,” he says, his voice still calm. “Nervous or excited?”

You don’t answer. You’re breathing harder than you mean to. He slides one hand up your chest and finds your nipple, pinching it lightly at first - just to see. When your body twitches away, he grabs harder.

“Stay still.”

You do. You’re trying.

He kicks your legs apart with his boot. The stance makes your thighs ache almost immediately. He runs a hand down your spine, then presses between your shoulders until you’re bent at the waist, hands bracing on the wall, head lowered. He stays behind you for a moment. You hear the sound of his zipper.

When you glance back, you catch a glimpse of the strap he’s pulling out- dark silicone, already slicked. He’s still wearing his button-up, chest hair peeking through, sleeves rolled up just past his elbows. He lines up. Pushes inside without a word.

The stretch is brutal. Immediate. You make a noise you don’t mean to and your knees almost give, but he holds you in place with both hands, pushing deeper with slow, unrelenting pressure.

“Breathe,” he mutters, like it’s a courtesy. “You’ll take it.”

He sets a rhythm that’s steady but unforgiving, each thrust pushing you forward into the wall. He watches the way you tighten around him, how your fingers curl in desperation. He reaches between your thighs again, not to help - just to remind you he knows exactly how much you’re feeling. He taps your t-dick lightly with two fingers. You twitch.

“Sensitive,” he says, not unkind. Just factual.

You try to say something, but it comes out as a sound. That’s all he needs. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, just far enough to throw you off-balance. Then he shoves two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. You gag around them, tears welling, not from pain exactly, just from the sheer force of being handled.

He starts fucking you harder. You can feel the slap of his hips against your ass, the sharp angle of the strap grinding too deep, too fast. His fingers are still in your mouth, and your arms are shaking from holding yourself up. You whine softly, and he finally pulls his hand away - only to slap your ass, flat and loud. You jolt. This wasn't part of the deal.

You’re crying now. Not sobbing. Just leaking. You blink hard and try not to make noise. He notices anyway.

“Mm,” he says, “don’t start crying now. I’m not even close.”

He keeps going. Drives into you until your legs stop working properly. Until you can’t hold yourself upright and you’re slumped against the wall, one hand pressed flat to the ground, the other useless. When he finally pulls out, it’s slow. Like he wants you to feel every second of it.

You drop to your knees without being told.

He wipes the strap off against your thigh.

“You can clean the floor,” he says, fastening his belt. “Then I’ll give you what I owe you. If I think you earned it.”

You don’t respond. You just lower your head. Your thighs are shaking. Your cunt’s still dripping. You reach for your shirt without thinking, but he kicks it further across the floor.

“Use your mouth.”

So you do. You lean down. Lick slowly, methodically, the way he seems to like it, head still spinning from overstimulation. When it’s done, you make a faint sound and look up at him.

He walks over to the counter, picks up the envelope you saw earlier, opens it.

Counts the money. Slowly. Like he’s giving it a chance.

Then slides it back into his wallet.

“No,” he smiles. “Not tonight.”

[slumberpartydreams]

when doms coo out a soft ‘there you arreee’ the moment their sub finally gives in and starts whimpering, gasping, making the prettiest noises while being absolutely ruined >>>

[slumberpartydreams]

Sick of masturbating i want someone to rail me until i cant see straight

[slumberpartydreams]

love the the idea of just kissing and biting and licking and sucking on someone's skin, making them feel really good without them having to do anything. Just lay back okay? i'll craw on top of you and kiss all over your face, trailing down your jaw and nipping at you, licking and sucking your neck. if i bite too hard for your liking (though let's be real... you like it like that) just tug my collar as a little reminder and i'll be gentle again... or if you need me to be more rough just tell me, or groan the right way, i'll probably understand :3

[slumberpartydreams]

who needs gags when you could just ask me a flirty question and i literally will not be able to form a sentence

[slumberpartydreams]

I want to submit but in a non-sexual way. I want to melt against them, my only worry being the words falling from their lips. They could give me commands so I don’t have to think. It sounds nice and relaxing I think

[slumberpartydreams]

I hope every trans person finds someone they can experiment their sexuality safely with

[slumberpartydreams]

[slumberpartydreams]

i need to experiment on somebody.

i need to see what makes them tick. i need to explore every inch of their body with my hands, with my mouth.

i need to bite and pinch and twist and find out which one makes my subject make the sweetest sounds. i need to make them fall apart so i can inspect all the little pieces left over.

i need to give them orgasm after orgasm just because i wanted to know how many they could take. i need to overstimulate them to satiate my curiosity.

i need to do it all again the next day to see if my data is replicable.

[slumberpartydreams]

I want a cute pet to experiment on. I want to tie them up and take my time trying to find all their most sensitive spots. Groping, squeezing, licking, biting, pressing, teasing. Testing their reactions to different impact toys. Testing different toys on them. Seeing what works them up the most. Never quite letting them cum until I'm satisfied with everything I've learned. Giving them praise for being such a good test subject for me.

[slumberpartydreams]

i need someone to do experiments on me. hook me up to a table, make me spread my legs, keep me from moving. push and squeeze my body, stimulate all of my sensitive spots. use yourself or toys to figure out what exactly makes me tick, and beg and cry for you. gosh. pleaseeee