u/Goldiebonds

NOTE: This writing takes place in a location of unknowing onlookers. This is ENTIRELY an act of fiction. Kink where you involve vanilla/unconsenting parties is not safe kink.

It's kind of funny that rather than sitting next to you on the bus like normal, you're across from me. Normally when we take transit we'll be side my side, your hand folded under mine and your cheek nesting in the swoop of skin between my shoulder and my jaw. You rest while I watch and ensure that we don't miss our stop. Today however is different.

You're staring at the advertisements plastered on the wall behind me. I look down at my phone and swipe a free screens over until I find the unmistakable app sitting there awaiting me. I smile at it and it grins to me in return. We are going to work together to truly seal your fate.
there's a dread that drops into your face as you swivel bright with rose cheeks. A flush of embarrassment as you realize how true to my word I really am, and how fucked you really are about to be.

You feel the rumbling inside of you start -- I begin on the lowest setting, not wanting to shock your body too much. I can tell that your stomach lurches in unison with the halting bus as you let the tingling sensation roam over your body. You look right ahead, avoiding eye contact with me because you know my pleased smirk will only just work you up further.

It doesn't take long for you to tell that there is a humiliating wet spot forming in your panties. Your own arousal mocks you as you sit within it. You're turned on because of the public stimulation, which only makes it feel that much better, causing the pool of your depraved filth to grow.
You rub your thighs together in discomfort as you glance upwards, as if consulting the room of the stuffy bus will do anything at all to save you. I swipe my thumb over the screen and I watch you tap your toes on the chalked up flooring as the feeling gets too intense to bear. I can see you want to break down in front of me. there's a part of you, the most animalistic part that tells you to let your primal noises escape. You know that the building pleasure within you could come to a head so easily if you only embraced it, calling out in your need and thrusting your head back in the air.
I turn the vibrator in you up yet another setting.
You know I'm doing this just to be sadistic. You're well aware all of this is an excuse just so I can watch you wiggle and squirm, trying to conceal how stupidly turned on everything about this makes you. The fact that someone could see you and deduct excatly why you're having such odd reactions thrills you almost as much as your embarrassment and suffering drives me wild and up the wall.

You've done a good job hiding the fact that you're about to Burst at the seams, and I am genuinely proud of you. For a moment I turn it down and revel in the terrified gratitude settled deep in your eyes.

and then I smile

and you know we are far from done yet.

NOTE: This is a teacher x student erotica in a UNIVERSITY setting with consenting adult
characters

You know it's wrong.

The two of us standing at the foot of your desk, every single blind closed, the door locked. You even went as far as to put a chair underneath the handle because you know how wrong this truly is.
None of that matters though, not when I'm looking up at you through my mascaraed eyelashes, sucking the tip of your fingers as we stare at each other. It makes you nervous, and that apprehension, the state of wondering 'is this is even okay?' is what gets me off.

You could tell from the very moment I entered your lecture hall that I was going to be trouble. You could tell from the way my glossy Mary Jane heels clicked on the ground, the way my soft thighs rested against each other, my checkered skirt inching up just a little bit to high. You knew from my shining cherry lipgloss and the way I chewed the back end of my pen that I was a lioness, and I was most defiantly on the prowl.

I knew that you knew I had my eye on you. I could tell by the way you wore dress pants that were increasingly form fitting, showing your curves off. You knew the whole room of horny university students were thirsting over you and yet you did it anyways because in the back of your mind you wanted me to see them. I knew you were aware of the daydreams I had been having about you because you would constantly call on me for questions, trying to catch me off guard.

Between classes I would see you on campus, strolling down the tiled hallways with your briefcase under your arm and a cup of steaming coffee in your hands and despite the rush you always seem to be In you always managed to take the time to make small talk with me, giving your mind and eyes an opportunity to wander.

And that leads us to now. You sit on the edge of your desk and angrily shove away miscellaneous papers and writing utensils, a fiery primal need radiating off of you. This was the version of you I have been craving to unleash. I want you pissed off, riled up, and unbelievably horny for me.

"Get on your fucking knees." You snap at me with a voice so icy and firm that I have no choice other than to mindlessly obey. Without thinking I drop to my knees, hiking the end of my short pleated shirt up as I look at you with adoration, licking my lips.

"What am I going to do with you?" You further, voice catching in your throat as you slide your well groomed hands over your hips.

"What did I do, Ms?" I ask, nibbling my lip a little bit as I pull down the front of my shirt enough to show off my cleavage to you.

"You're.. you, that's what." You stammer, eyebrows furrowing adorably in the middle of your forehead. I giggle, and you hate how cute you think it is.

We don't need to speak for us both to understand exactly what's about to happen. You huff and I grin as your hands fly to your belt, desperately undoing it and letting your dress slacks fall down. You kick them off and eagerly undo your shirt for me, all while I observe you from my knees. You slide your sleek black panties to the side as you cast your vision down upon me, drawing me in.

"Get your bratty face in between my thighs." You grumble, gripping a fist full of my golden blonde hair, leading my mouth to your dripping wet pussy, making my mouth water as I devour you. I don't need a warning, I don't need to breathe. I need to fucking absorb you. I need to see how your beautiful face contorts with every grope, lick, and suck I offer you. I watch your head cock back as you feel yourself drown in your lust, your shame, your guilt, and your desire. Your leg drapes over my shoulder as you press yourself firmer into me, your clit pressed between my lips, out bodies merging as one--an endless circuit of cruel and limitless need.

And despite the fact that I am the one before you, on my knees, servicing you like the depraved needy whore we both know I am, you are the one who needs me. You are the one who yearns for me, and you are the one willing to betray your morals, and risk the life you have worked so hard for just for the chance to feel me against your tender skin.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, caging your fingers above your lips as I pull you in close by your hips. You need to stay quiet, you can hear the sound of the lecture going on in the classroom across the hall, and you know that if your grunts get even the smallest bit too loud that everything will be over for you. You hate how much the risk turns you on nearly as much as you hate me for forcing you into this. I lift my hand up and without any forewarning, guide my middle and index fingers into your aching cunt. Your body sparks alive, burning up as I curl them inside you, pressing into your g-spot perfectly. You feel your voice start to slip, and look to me to slow down, to give you a break..

but the gleam in my eyes only scream back

No mercy

NOTE: This is a teacher x student erotica in a UNIVERSITY setting with consenting adult
characters

You know it's wrong.

The two of us standing at the foot of your desk, every single blind closed, the door locked. You even went as far as to put a chair underneath the handle because you know how wrong this truly is.
None of that matters though, not when I'm looking up at you through my mascaraed eyelashes, sucking the tip of your fingers as we stare at each other. It makes you nervous, and that apprehension, the state of wondering 'is this is even okay?' is what gets me off.

You could tell from the very moment I entered your lecture hall that I was going to be trouble. You could tell from the way my glossy Mary Jane heels clicked on the ground, the way my soft thighs rested against each other, my checkered skirt inching up just a little bit to high. You knew from my shining cherry lipgloss and the way I chewed the back end of my pen that I was a lioness, and I was most defiantly on the prowl.

I knew that you knew I had my eye on you. I could tell by the way you wore dress pants that were increasingly form fitting, showing your curves off. You knew the whole room of horny university students were thirsting over you and yet you did it anyways because in the back of your mind you wanted me to see them. I knew you were aware of the daydreams I had been having about you because you would constantly call on me for questions, trying to catch me off guard.

Between classes I would see you on campus, strolling down the tiled hallways with your briefcase under your arm and a cup of steaming coffee in your hands and despite the rush you always seem to be In you always managed to take the time to make small talk with me, giving your mind and eyes an opportunity to wander.

And that leads us to now. You sit on the edge of your desk and angrily shove away miscellaneous papers and writing utensils, a fiery primal need radiating off of you. This was the version of you I have been craving to unleash. I want you pissed off, riled up, and unbelievably horny for me.

"Get on your fucking knees." You snap at me with a voice so icy and firm that I have no choice other than to mindlessly obey. Without thinking I drop to my knees, hiking the end of my short pleated shirt up as I look at you with adoration, licking my lips.

"What am I going to do with you?" You further, voice catching in your throat as you slide your well groomed hands over your hips.

"What did I do, Ms?" I ask, nibbling my lip a little bit as I pull down the front of my shirt enough to show off my cleavage to you.

"You're.. you, that's what." You stammer, eyebrows furrowing adorably in the middle of your forehead. I giggle, and you hate how cute you think it is.

We don't need to speak for us both to understand exactly what's about to happen. You huff and I grin as your hands fly to your belt, desperately undoing it and letting your dress slacks fall down. You kick them off and eagerly undo your shirt for me, all while I observe you from my knees. You slide your sleek black panties to the side as you cast your vision down upon me, drawing me in.

"Get your bratty face in between my thighs." You grumble, gripping a fist full of my golden blonde hair, leading my mouth to your dripping wet pussy, making my mouth water as I devour you. I don't need a warning, I don't need to breathe. I need to fucking absorb you. I need to see how your beautiful face contorts with every grope, lick, and suck I offer you. I watch your head cock back as you feel yourself drown in your lust, your shame, your guilt, and your desire. Your leg drapes over my shoulder as you press yourself firmer into me, your clit pressed between my lips, out bodies merging as one--an endless circuit of cruel and limitless need.

And despite the fact that I am the one before you, on my knees, servicing you like the depraved needy whore we both know I am, you are the one who needs me. You are the one who yearns for me, and you are the one willing to betray your morals, and risk the life you have worked so hard for just for the chance to feel me against your tender skin.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, caging your fingers above your lips as I pull you in close by your hips. You need to stay quiet, you can hear the sound of the lecture going on in the classroom across the hall, and you know that if your grunts get even the smallest bit too loud that everything will be over for you. You hate how much the risk turns you on nearly as much as you hate me for forcing you into this. I lift my hand up and without any forewarning, guide my middle and index fingers into your aching cunt. Your body sparks alive, burning up as I curl them inside you, pressing into your g-spot perfectly. You feel your voice start to slip, and look to me to slow down, to give you a break..

but the gleam in my eyes only scream back

No mercy

You don't give a fuck how exhausted I am, and I see it in your eyes. You look at me like a siren, luring me in, making me exert myself more than I thought I could.
It's been hours and we both know you aren't done with me, in fact you're far from it. We've tried countless positions, slamming into each other with unbridled urgency, mouths crashing together in a lust-fueld disaster. You make me ram my strap into you over and over again, and you take every inch perfectly. I am a doll for you, and so long as you want to be ruthlessly fucked I will put my comfort aside to do that for you.
Seeing the sweat on my brow amuses you. You notice that my arms and legs are shaking, that my thrusts are getting less firm and rough. You can see how hard I'm trying to keep up with your endless pit of desire but you can tell I'm getting weaker.
You don't care.
You grab me by my jaw and yank me closer to you until our foreheads are against each other, giggling at my discomfort as I wrap my hands around the flesh of your hips and bring you down as hard as I can as I fuck into you, breathing in your approval like a crisp cigarette.
You don't need to put in the work and we both know it. You lay there and use me as your freeuse service top until you are satisfied. I can handle It for as long as you need. You can make me handle it.

You don't give a fuck how exhausted I am, and I see it in your eyes. You look at me like a siren, luring me in, making me exert myself more than I thought I could.
It's been hours and we both know you aren't done with me, in fact you're far from it. We've tried countless positions, slamming into each other with unbridled urgency, mouths crashing together in a lust-fueld disaster. You make me ram my strap into you over and over again, and you take every inch perfectly. I am a doll for you, and so long as you want to be ruthlessly fucked I will put my comfort aside to do that for you.
Seeing the sweat on my brow amuses you. You notice that my arms and legs are shaking, that my thrusts are getting less firm and rough. You can see how hard I'm trying to keep up with your endless pit of desire but you can tell I'm getting weaker.
You don't care.
You grab me by my jaw and yank me closer to you until our foreheads are against each other, giggling at my discomfort as I wrap my hands around the flesh of your hips and bring you down as hard as I can as I fuck into you, breathing in your approval like a crisp cigarette.
You don't need to put in the work and we both know it. You lay there and use me as your freeuse service top until you are satisfied. I can handle It for as long as you need. You can make me handle it.

I can’t wait to see the look in your eyes when you realize that no matter how hard you try you aren’t going to be able to do this.

Two of my fingers buried deep in your pussy, reaching the spots you can’t quite get to, pulling you in on the pads of my fingertips as you stare at me with fleeting eyes, unable where to look, knowing if you look at me for too long as I claim
Ownership of your body that you’ll cum.

You know you aren’t allowed to cum before me and that’s why your fingers are plunging in and out of my dripping wet slit. Despite how obviously aroused my body is, I look unimpressed. You on the other hand are a trembling mess, and your shaky stance extends to your arm and hand, loosing focus and precision. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer as I push my body into yours with expertise that you can only strive for.

Your mouth falls slack in defeat as your eyes roll back to face the he roof. You can feel your body take the faithful leap off the edge while your poor performance keeps me on the other side of it.

I shake your filth from my devine hand, and you look at me deeply. You now know your fate and the torture that will
Come with it. My lip twitches in frustration as you grin. You’re about to get me exactly as pissed off as you crave.

Warning: I go into non detailed discussions of my history of sexual abuse, grooming, self harm, and disorders eating in this writing.

I want to know why you are into domination or being dominated, it’s healing to hear.

The past little bit of my life has been full of self reflection for me, and as I am sure some of you have noticed I find myself in a surge of dominant energy as of late. I understand why I love submission, and if anyone would be interested in hearing me talk about why I would be glad to write and delve deeper into that, but for the longest time I had no idea why exactly I liked being dominant.

For as long as I can remember, I have always had what some would consider to be a dominant presence. I am the kind of person who gets put in charge of projects, and when I have goals I always meet them. I'm highly motivated and I noticed that around people who do not have the same kind of drive as me I tend to get annoyed with them very fast. Because of this it was a natural progression to be the more "dominant" partner in the relationships I have had. Even in relationships where I have been more submissive in the bedroom, I still have found myself being the one to take charge. Not only do I like being the one to take the lead in things and ensure things get done, but I like even more when the person who I am doing that for recognizes all of the work I put into everything I do in my life and does not pretend that they participated equally in something.

I also have a thing for pillow princesses, so I think this makes sense.

This dominance, not only in kink but in how I see and interact with the world around me comes from my desire to be in control, but the desire itself comes from a place deeper than that.

I want to be the figure in someone else's life that I wished I had in my own.

I have lived a long life of having people force control onto me. I will be brief and blunt with it but I was in a situation where I was being consistently raped and abused for multiple years by another girl. At the same time I was being groomed online by multiple men. These were people who wanted to control me, and despite being told exactly what to do, exactly how to survive the abuse, It was never ultimately control. It was hurt, pain, and most prominently manipulation. This was never control because the only means of control being used was force. I was forced to do things I didn't want to do.

This meant I wanted to take control in other aspects of my life at this time and I expressed this mainly through a cycle of eating disorders and self harm. The idea of binge eating food to numb my feelings only to be followed by days of anorexia driven by guilt gave me the fucked up sense of control I needed. I wanted something I could see the end too, predict the outcome of. I had learnt that:

binge eating --> temporary pain numb --> guilt --> Starvation --> binge eating...

And although this was toxic control, it was what I wanted and truthfully what a lot of people want. Humans, myself included crave for a controlled environment. They want life to be exciting and full of zest, while being able to rest assured that they are safe, loved, and cared for. And this is why I dominate.

I want this too, but at the end of the day I have a hard time trusting someone else to create that controlled environment for me as my trust has been abused many times over, so as a replacement I provide that space for others. This is why I am so firm on not wanting casual "kink" dynamics, because the control I seek to provide is not just so someone else can get sexual gratification. It's so I can offer someone fun, safe, security. It's so they know they have someone who they can lean on, who can do all the thinking for them for a few hours who they have full trust that they wont abuse it. I want to rewrite my own story, and prove to myself that what happened to me does not need to be a cycle, and that I have the power to use my natural ability to lead to change the trajectory of someones life both in and out of intimacy.

If you cannot understand this, I am not the dominant for you. I know who I am, and I will never loose that again.

Goldie xx

Warning: I go into non detailed discussions of my history of sexual abuse, grooming, self harm, and disorders eating in this writing.

The past little bit of my life has been full of self reflection for me, and as I am sure some of you have noticed I find myself in a surge of dominant energy as of late. I understand why I love submission, and if anyone would be interested in hearing me talk about why I would be glad to write and delve deeper into that, but for the longest time I had no idea why exactly I liked being dominant.

For as long as I can remember, I have always had what some would consider to be a dominant presence. I am the kind of person who gets put in charge of projects, and when I have goals I always meet them. I'm highly motivated and I noticed that around people who do not have the same kind of drive as me I tend to get annoyed with them very fast. Because of this it was a natural progression to be the more "dominant" partner in the relationships I have had. Even in relationships where I have been more submissive in the bedroom, I still have found myself being the one to take charge. Not only do I like being the one to take the lead in things and ensure things get done, but I like even more when the person who I am doing that for recognizes all of the work I put into everything I do in my life and does not pretend that they participated equally in something.

I also have a thing for pillow princesses, so I think this makes sense.

This dominance, not only in kink but in how I see and interact with the world around me comes from my desire to be in control, but the desire itself comes from a place deeper than that.

I want to be the figure in someone else's life that I wished I had in my own.

I have lived a long life of having people force control onto me. I will be brief and blunt with it but I was in a situation where I was being consistently raped and abused for multiple years by another girl. At the same time I was being groomed online by multiple men. These were people who wanted to control me, and despite being told exactly what to do, exactly how to survive the abuse, It was never ultimately control. It was hurt, pain, and most prominently manipulation. This was never control because the only means of control being used was force. I was forced to do things I didn't want to do.

This meant I wanted to take control in other aspects of my life at this time and I expressed this mainly through a cycle of eating disorders and self harm. The idea of binge eating food to numb my feelings only to be followed by days of anorexia driven by guilt gave me the fucked up sense of control I needed. I wanted something I could see the end too, predict the outcome of. I had learnt that:

binge eating --> temporary pain numb --> guilt --> Starvation --> binge eating...

And although this was toxic control, it was what I wanted and truthfully what a lot of people want. Humans, myself included crave for a controlled environment. They want life to be exciting and full of zest, while being able to rest assured that they are safe, loved, and cared for. And this is why I dominate.

I want this too, but at the end of the day I have a hard time trusting someone else to create that controlled environment for me as my trust has been abused many times over, so as a replacement I provide that space for others. This is why I am so firm on not wanting casual "kink" dynamics, because the control I seek to provide is not just so someone else can get sexual gratification. It's so I can offer someone fun, safe, security. It's so they know they have someone who they can lean on, who can do all the thinking for them for a few hours who they have full trust that they wont abuse it. I want to rewrite my own story, and prove to myself that what happened to me does not need to be a cycle, and that I have the power to use my natural ability to lead to change the trajectory of someones life both in and out of intimacy.

If you cannot understand this, I am not the dominant for you. I know who I am, and I will never loose that again.

Goldie xx

I can’t belive you haven’t figured it out yet.

Haven’t you noticed how much of a better mood he’s been in? The flush in his cheeks at the end of work when you ask him how his day was, the way his skin glows so bright he looks years younger? I know you know something had to have changed. He giggles like a schoolboy with a first crush.

He’s hiding something and you know it. If you don’t, then you’re just more stupid than you look.

I hate to have to be the one to flat out tell you this, trust me—I don’t want to be wasting my precious time talking to a gross, pathetic loser as much as you want to be reading the words typed out by a woman so much better then you. But I don’t regret it, and you need to understand I don’t intend on stopping.

He is just so handsome, his soft eyes look across the room at me with a primal seduction that can only be explained as magnetic. When he saw me that night at the bar, wearing my tight black dress, my full lips painted in a red that could kill. My blonde hair soft framing my cheeks. He knew he was mine before I had even laid a finger on him.

It didn’t take long for him to forget about you entirely. A couple laughs and a few drunks and I knew that he wanted me as much as I wanted him, that he needed me. That’s when I first did it, that very same night. We stumbled out to his car, the one you have ridden in countless times now, and didn’t even manage to leave the parking lot. He was begging for my hands all over him, to be treated like the man he knows deep down he is—not the glorified butler you treat him like.

When I fucked him the first time, I knew he was with you. I knew how committed you were to him, and before he met me, how committed he was to you as well. but he was telling me about how he carries all of the financial burdens, how you forget things like anniversaries and birthdays. You feel more like another chore to him than a woman he wants to be with. He told me all about your inability to please him in bed, about his aching curiosity to try something totally new. Something plusher, more skilled, more open minded.

After I made his eyes roll into the back of his head when I wrapped my lips around his thick shaft, he was gone. I knew in that moment that whatever he may have had with you was pointless now. He had become mine.

That was far from the only time I fucked him, but I’m sure you have figured that out.

There have been times in your kitchen, the living room where you two cuddle up to watch TV, the shower, his office. Nowhere is off limits. Nowhere is too risky or taboo when it comes to me because his main priority is squeezing my tits around his cock until he cums all over my pretty face. But there is one time in particular I’m thinking about.

There was this time when you were out with the girls, just another example of how much of a selfish bitch you can be to him, leaving him all alone all night while you prioritize seeing your girl friends over being with your man. He called me over, and I could hear from the jitter in his voice that he wanted me to fuck him. I could tell that you weren’t going to be home soon. I came over as fast as I possibly could, my bag full of toys and tools you could never afford. He looked at me doe eyed as she led me inside and up to your bed. He pushed me down on your side of the bed and got on top of me, lifting my skirt and pushing my lacy panties to the side. My legs still shake thinking about it now—the sight of seeing the ring you gave him dip into my wet, homewrecking cunt until it was lost inside me. I came so hard that night. Sorry about the stains on your pillow by the way, I happen to be a squirter.

I wish I could say that there was a happier ending to this for you, something that could make this hurt a little less, but we just had to be honest with you. You need to know I didn’t do this for your sake, but for my own. I don’t want to live on the shadows when the whole world could be seeing just how much better I treat your man then you ever have been able too. Maybe if he’s interested and if you really truly don’t think you can move on beyond him, maybe we could make an arrangement where you aren’t fully out of the picture. But I don’t know, it’s not looking too good for you cucky.

Goldie xx