#Cbt cw

[purlty23]

kinktober 2024 day 3! Promptlist by @kroas-adtam<3 tysm kro

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[duskier]

cw cbt + human furniture

Simon Riley likes being on the receiving end of CBT just FYI 🫶

When he needs to be punished (or when he's really really good) Price puts him in a humbler and makes him be a table for game night in his flat. Stark naked and entirely ignored, forced into a presenting position. Eyes are all on the football going on in the TV.

A humbler is a lovely tool that wraps around Simon's balls, two arms spreading out at each side that rest against the back of Simon's thighs. Any attempt to stand tall or even break the perfection of his submissive pose results in him whining in pain.

Soap being the ass that he is, rests his socked feet on the back of Simon's neck. Gaz is at least polite, sets down a coaster so his drink doesn't drop ice cold condensation on Simon's back.

(Depending on if Price’s team wins or not, Simon is either nicely let out of his humbler or is forced to beg to be released while Price pushes Ghost forward with his boot- making the humbler tug at his balls so painfully he sobs.)

[screamingcrows]

Zandicktober masterlist and info

Risse, I dedicate this to you. Block #Zandicktober to avoid these posts

Warnings: cock ring, unpleasant nsfw

Another garbled sound left his lips, shaky fingers tugging weakly at the tight metal ring digging into his engorged dick. It didn't move, not an inch.

Sharp pangs of pain had him writhing again, face rubbing against the already soaked sheets.

He needed release, either from that damnable thing or-

A wretched scream left him as his vision burned white and he was forced to rut against the unreasonably dry pillow between his legs. His entire body shook, fresh tears spilling from tired eyes when tentative fingers tried once more to tug the offending device off.

Still nothing. Zandik choked out a sob, every beat of his heart sending a painful throb through his body.

[gabessquishytum]

so, on the golf-instructor-Hob-cock-pivot idea from the porn video thing. Ahem. The ideas this triggered. I'm unhinged too, so here we go. *Squirms* CW, CW, CW for nsfw, hopeless filthy porn, CBT, mild electroplay, objectification and humiliation. Seriously, some serious horny is needed before you read this.

Firstly, oof, the POTENTIAL. The idea of a fixed point while you pivot? That's so flexible though. because anything could be the fixed point. Cock in arse? That's where we started. Fist in arse? You have that already. But we could go further. Cock tied to something. Idk, maybe to both ankles / feet (which are spread to the correct, professional distance), so that kind of a nice visual triangle is formed, and as Dream swings, first the line on one side is taut while the other is slack, then the tension slowly evens out, until finally at the end of the swing it's the other side that's slack while the other is taut. Dream's swing is basically guided by the changing, continuous tension on his cock. Now that should be a good training tool. Very excellent. And it allows Hob to watch from the front, on a wooden bench, from a distance, so he can really get a good view and really observe Dream's form. After all, there are some draw backs to being directly behind Dream all the time, right? You're too close and you can't observe the full picture. But this, this is perfect. You get to watch him from the front, you get to move around, everything. Oh, and there should be a third rope from Dream's cock to Hob's hand, just for, you know, extra ... extra. It's almost like a little cock bridle. So, you know. This is definitely level two training. Once the cock in arse lesson has established itself, it's time to get a little more refinement and sophistication in that swing with some lassoed cock practice.

But why stop at his cock? His balls are a fixed point too, right? Only they're a little or a lot more sensitive, aren't they. And if you tie them up and pull them back between his legs, it encourages a nice, professional bend at the waist. only, of course, it's so very humiliating. which makes it a very fitting punishment, for days when Dream's been very bad, and very very naughty. For when he doesn't deserve Hob's nice helpful cock and thrusts helping him to stand up. Hob will take a good awfully heavy stake or post and plant it behind Dream and take his balls and tie them, between his legs, to a point on the post. He'll walk Dream forward till the line is taut and Dream's bent at the right angle and have him practice his swing. Hob's very responsible, you know. Dream still gets his lessons even if he doesn't get Hob's cock. And it truly is very effective, you know. All that tension on the balls means that any minute movement out of position is very quickly and effectively corrected. And it serves to keep Dream very, very focused. If Hob has to use some sort of crop or cane to tap Dream's tightly clenched arse or slightly exposed balls from behind and between his legs just to give him a very slight reminder, a very slight warning, well, that's just extra reinforcement. There's always room for further improvement. And if Dream has really truly remorsefully repented from the behaviour that had gotten him here in the first place, he should maybe wear a short skirt to facilitate Hob's punishment (and teaching) of him like that. Because actions speak louder than words. He'll never think of his balls in the same way again.

But overall, the lessons are going well. Dream's getting very good. And soon Dream's skill level steps up and he no longer needs the fixed point thing, although, occasionally, he still needs a refresher. During which, Hob finds that the balls thing is the most effective, because it's so severe a training tool, which is what Dream needs now because he is already so advanced. So what he does is just carry a rope around. If ever needed he pulls Dream's shorts down, takes his balls and pulls them back, ties them off nicely, and holds the other end in his hand. Now he can increase the tension as much as Dream needs and even give him a hard tug if he's not paying attention. It occurs to Hob at some point that he should have just done this from the start instead of lugging that stake around for nothing. But it's alright. He's a bit of a himbo sometimes. And he did need to walk around Dream and watch him from all angles at the beginning. But now that he doesn't, well, a simple rope us easy to carry around and he can remind Dream not to get easily cocky or complacent st any time.

But really, Dream's doing very well. And he should be rewarded for getting good as well, right? And so Hob does. He puts a tiny little remote controlled device in Dream's hole, right where his prostate is, which produces a concentrated electrical jolt right over that spot. And Hob holds the remote. And he walks around Dream, watching him while he golfs. And every time the club connects with the ball with that sweet-spot sound, Hob jabs the button to jolt Dream's hole. Dream jumps like a rabbit at first when it happens, hair and cock flying as he's taken by surprise, but soon he gets what's happening and he's able to control himself. It's only when the club connects well that the device goes off. If he misses, or if there's a poor connection, there's nothing. And that sets his mind on the task like nothing he'd ever thought would. Soon he's squaring up for every swing like never before, perfect stance, arms straight, eyes on the prize, gunning straight for that jolt to his hole, I mean, his ball. And here's how it is - if the ball lands at a good spot on the green, Hob lingers over the remote and gives him a long, good jolt. So really, a properly good stroke could get him a lot of pleasure. Almost to coming, really, because Dream's never done this before and he's just so sensitive. Soon his cock's jutting out as he golfs, leaking excitedly as he prepares to swing, because that's how much he's anticipating every jolt on his, I mean, golf improvement.

Everything is working out well and Dream's golfing score is really starting to shine. His father, quite frankly, is astonished. It's such an improvement. Dream could really reach a professional level, if this keeps up. He increases Hob's pay and tells him to keep it going, by any means necessary. He even invites Dream to watch a couple of professional golf tournaments with him on TV in their gigantic comfortable family cinema room, just to expose him to what the real pros are like. The only problem of course, which he's not aware of, is that Dream can hardly watch a tournament calmly now. Every single stroke has the poor guy jumping on the couch and almost squirting his pants, because by now he knows what a good swing sounds like, and he connects the jolt to his hole with a good sound, and the sounds of the tournament are magnified around the room and conveyed very well by his family's expensive speakers. And of course, for the pros, every swing is a good swing. And his body and cock and hole have learned to anticipate the jolt even if the device isn't there anymore, it's only there during golf lessons so he doesn't get desensitized, so that even if it's not his own swing, even if he's just watching it on TV, the visual and the sound is enough to trigger his body on an instinctive, subconscious level. He can't even control the impulse and get himself under control. Goddamn his training.

Oh golf instructor Hob my beloved.

Because Dream is getting so good, his father decides that its a wonderful idea to send his son off to compete in tournaments. They're still amateur competitions, but there's prize money and of course, networking opportunities. Dream could really make something of himself with the right kind of people around him. So off he goes, with his father's blessing and of course... his excellent instructor Hob goes with him. He'll need guidance, and he's still so very young. His father doesn't want him getting up to any shenanigans while he's abroad.

You can just imagine Hob’s utter delight. He's got Dream all to himself, 24/7. Practising out on new courses. Not to mention new toys. Hob has brought along a whole suitcase full. He's got Dream out on the green sporting nipple clamps under his smart white polo shirt. There's a special egg shaped plug which is textured exactly like a golf ball. Hob even has a nice shiny new flogger which he uses to specially target Dream’s milky white thighs whenever he happens to fumble his swing (a rare occurence, with all that pivot training, but something he misses on purpose). If Dream bends over even a little bit, the bright red lines are clearly visible on his sweet skin. Poor darling.

Then of course there are lovely hotel suites where Hob can finally spread his darling student out on clean sheets and see every inch of him. Hmm, that gives him all kinds of ideas. Maybe he should take him out the green, in fact, and get him naked there. The idea of forcing Dream to play in the buff nearly makes Hob cum on the spot.

Dream wins all his tournaments, but he never does quite get the hang of the networking part - he's always glued to his instructor, always looking for Hob’s attention and guidance. At least Hob is really earning that salary of his! He's really in demand from all the other keen posh golfing fathers, but he stays loyal to Dream. And let's face it, Dream keeps him PLENTY busy.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Blackheart: You need CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy)

Ambrosius: I don't see how stepping on my cock and balls is gonna make me less mentally ill but I'm just as down to try it as you are

[curiouslyodd]

Today the UK Government started seizing refugees for their unfathomably cruel Rwanda deportation plan. People who fled to this country seeking safety will be suddenly crammed into detention centres and held for months, before being forced onto planes to an unfamiliar country where they will not be safe. An initiative that will cost the taxpayer £millions and will not achieve anything but making desperate people's lives even worse.

Today the UK Government announced further crackdowns on disability welfare, with planned removals of benefits for people with depression/anxiety in favour of 'therapy', and replacing cash benefits with 'vouchers'. Following months of increased media discreditation of disabilities and a culture that demonises people on benefits, plus government interest in legalising physician-assisted suicide, it's clear that this move is intended to push people into homelessness and suicide.

I hate it here. This country just seems to have an unerasable streak of vicious spite and disdain, and countless wealthy and well-connected monsters desparate to claw us back to the era of workhouses and debtors' prisons.

[2af-afterdark]

Mind full of Phenix cbt. Gonna take a flogger to his dick. (Also is there female equivalent acronym to cbt?? I tried looking but couldn't really find what I was looking for)

I... have no idea what the afab equivalent would be? Clit torture? That... sounds so unsexy >.> Like, I know what you mean but it just don't know what it's called.

BUT PHENIX! cbt would be absolute hell for him since it would be torture and overstimulation at the same time. I think you'd had to give the poor lad a break before he climaxes himself to unconsciousness.

[synf3ll]

i want to beat the absolute shit out of my F/O. i want to restrain him in chains and beat him to a bloody pulp. i want to force his legs open and slowly crush his balls under the sole of my docs. i want him to cum from it and i want him to cry.

[questformortality]

having a good time until I remember the world keeps getting worse and unlivable abd my suicide is inevitable no matter how many drugs I take

[haku23]

this is included in his treatment plan <3 lol

[ultimate-snek]

me when i'm feeling particularly devious

[frenchfrywrites]

Billy Lenz is such a pathetic little meow meow step on his cock

Mmm! That's what he deserves! And boy would he be pleased if you did step on his cock.

[mangled-by-disuse]

I want to add to this as conversations persist, and as someone who is coming at this with a bit of a remove (but has been in similar situations themself at other times)

Be practical.

This is not minimising the fear or the despair or the emotional cost. I understand that not all the problems you face may have practical solutions. But SOME of them will.

So, if you're still not sure how you can possibly go on:

1. Make a list of what you're scared of. Be SPECIFIC. be PERSONAL. what, for YOU PERSONALLY, are you afraid you can't cope with, and what are you afraid it will do? (You don't have to show this to anyone of you don't want to. You don't even have to write it down.)

2. Identify what you need, in order to deal with those potential events. Is it money? Is it community support? Is it shelter, or a place to go if the place you are in becomes unsafe? Again, be specific, and if you can, give figures. What's the least amount of money you would need to feel able to pay for food? What's the least salubrious accommodation you would need to feel like you're not unhoused? Etc.

3. What can you do to move towards getting those things? Remember, you don't have to do this on your own. Maybe (like with the person I just talked to) you can ask someone else to help you research and navigate support. Maybe you can make a call to a union or a charity to ask what they can do, or who you might ask next. Maybe you can just make a plan for the crisis that might happen - "okay, I'll keep a bag under the bed, here's my emergency contact, I'm aiming for this place in general".

4. Write it down if you need to. Research more if you need to. But remember: you cannot change everything, and you don't have to. Find what you need to survive, and find a way to get it. That's enough.

This is not going to fix how you feel, and it won't work for everybody. But for me, as someone who has been suicidal more than a few times (and never really got treatment for it), being able to direct my fear and anxiety in this kind of way, focusing on practical and achievable things, has kept me alive for 31 years of anxiety and depression, and I highly recommend it.

The main reason for despair is overwhelm. Break down your fears into smaller, digestible boxes. Maybe they'll still be terrifying. But at least you'll be doing something about them.

re: suicidality

So I have now had... a couple of people come to me personally in crisis today, and seen a lot of others speak about it publicly. And I just want to say to all of you what I've been trying to say to the people who've spoken to me directly:

You are in shock. You are grieving. You are in a heightened emotional state, and there is nothing wrong with that, but now is not the time to make decisions you can't take back.

My mother was telling me on Sunday, when I was having a much more banal crisis about regretting my move, that when she moved to the North she gave herself six months, and she wasn't allowed to give up on it until then. Not because it would definitely be okay, but because until you've got your footing, until you're no longer reeling from the immediate change, you don't know. You can't see the challenge clearly.

So, please. Give yourself six months. Decide if this is really a world you can't live in.

You haven't closed the door if it turns out that you really, truly can't live like this. You don't have to close the door. Just don't go barrelling through it yet.

[oersteds]

my favorite flavor of the cock-n-ball torture meme...

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 10 - Overstimulation

Soap x F!Reader - 1.4k (on ao3)

summary: You and Johnny drive yourselves wild with a little help from a sybian. (You POV)

cw: overstim (duh), double penetration (dildo & cock), some light objectification, minor cbt, affectionate verbal humiliation, brief nipple play

note: reader is trans fem and the words used to refer to her genitalia are prostate, taint, length, clit/clittie, member, cock, hole, cunt, pussy

You can hardly breathe through the vibrations wracking your frame, your weight held up by only your elbows and the sybian beneath you turned up to its highest intensity, the small dildo attachment vibrating deliciously against your prostate and taint in a way that makes it feel difficult to even get a breath in. 

You’ve been reduced to nothing but moans and whines for what must be hours, rocking your hips as best you can to hump the toy beneath you but failing to get much sensation past the machine’s automatic vibrations. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny chants, hunched over you and fucking you ruthlessly. It couldn’t be more obvious that he’s using your body for his own pleasure, any sort of consistent rhythm completely out of the question as his hips work almost manically. “Jesus!”

You can’t respond, not with the dildo inside of you being held steadily against your prostate by Johnny’s cock as he thrusts in and out of you. The attachment is driving Johnny nearly as insane as it’s driving you. You can commiserate with him, your own length pressed flat to the block of the sybian by your stomach. 

You’d gone a little stupid the moment Johnny had held your hands and helped you settle onto the toy, the stretch hardly anything for you to take and the vibrations mind-numbing even at half strength. Johnny had held onto his always minimal patience as best he could, holding his fingers tight at the base of his cock while he watched you ride your toy and pluck your own nipples, twisting until they ached. 

“So good,” he slurs over your shoulder now, mindless in his own pleasure. Your tits swing beneath your chest, back arched so you can hold yourself as tight to the sybian as possible. “‘S it– shit, fuck, ‘s it good for you, bonnie?”

You make a sound that’s as close to an affirmation as you can manage, body pulled taut as a bowstring. You’re right on the edge of something mind blowing, ecstasy just out of your reach.

“Hey,” Johnny pants, holding himself buried to the hilt when you don’t respond. “Hey, answer me.”

He taps your ass harshly, and you moan and the sting of pain. You slam your fist against the ground, straining desperately for a release.

“Johnny, Johnny, Johnny,” you cry, voice cracking on nearly every syllable. “Please, please, I’m so– God, Johnny, I’m so close, please just–”

The sound he makes is animalistic and he bucks once against you, strong enough that you and the sybian rock forward an inch. You yelp, scrabbling against the floor and inching that much closer to an orgasm. You can feel it right there, so close that you can’t believe you haven’t come yet.

“Whaddya need, pretty?” You think maybe he meant to purr, but the dildo is vibrating too strongly for Johnny to keep his composure and his words come out as breathy instead, as desperate as you are.

“Touch me, touch me, touchme, touchme–”

“Touch ye where?” His damp palms slip along your hips, squeezing your sides and trying to squeeze his fingers between your stomach and the sybian. “Your pretty clittie? I cannae reach her, lovie.”

You sob, pushing up from your elbows to your hands so quickly that you nearly faceplant, just barely catching yourself with trembling hands. The sensation shifts just enough for you to gasp when you lift your torso from the toy, the sudden relief of pressure making you jolt.

“Please, please–”

“C’mon, there we go,” Johnny hisses, pressing his palm to you, his entire hand easily hiding your member. “‘S that it?” He coos. “I cannae find it, lass, ye gotta tell me when I–”

The heat of him, the calluses on his palms and the heat of human touch is enough to have you finally coming, a wail tearing out of your throat as you paint the floor. You feel nearly hysterical as he rubs his palm against you, pushing you into the vibrating toy.

“Johnny!” You cry, hand flying to his thick forearm and scratching desperately. He pinches you in retaliation, just beneath the plush head of your cock, and you’re certain the sound that comes from you isn’t human. Spit dribbles down your chin as you pant open mouthed, orgasm seemingly never ending as Johnny doesn’t let you away from the vibrations for even a moment.

“Love your sounds, bonnie,” he pants, grinding himself deeper into your hole. You clench sporadically, feeling like you’ve been struck by lightning. The dildo pulls against your hole as Johnny tugs your hip back with his free hand, stretching you wider on his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, starting to fuck you again as the last bits of come dribble from you. “Tight fuckin’ cunt, perfect pretty girl…”

You mewl, leaning back against his chest even though you want to collapse forward. You’re not sure your clit could handle the overload of sensation, you already feel lobotomized with your member resting limp against the toy. 

The deluge of continuous sensation – the vibrations against your clit and inside of you, pressed to your prostate, Johnny’s cock sliding smoothly in and out and in and out – keeps you from floating in the bliss of an orgasm wrung dry. On every breath out you whine, your breathing itself timed to Johnny’s thrusts. 

You feel like his puppet, moving on his toy how he wants, fucked on his cock how he wants, breaths lined up to his movements. 

“Pussy from fuckin’ heaven, Jesus,” Johnny keened, grip on your hips bruising as he holds you still so he can fuck you at his own pace, using you like just another toy. “Stunning girl, never been close to a hole like yours, fuck!”

“Johnny,” you whine, heartbeat in your fingers and toes, the overstimulation slipping quickly to painful. “Johnny, please, too much, it’s too much!”

He snarls, jerking you back against him and you nearly scream at the dildo pulling you wider for him. “Don’t be selfish.”

You’d have lost your balance if not for his hands, your own hands flailing for purchase and your cock slowly filling with blood, even after such a powerful orgasm. “Please, ow–”

One of his hands flies from your hip to your length, grip harsh. His palm comes down in a smack, and you squeal, arching away from him and only managing to hold yourself more firmly against the sybian.

“Cunt like this and you want me to stop?” He growled, breath hot against your neck. You nearly yowl at his continued torment to your clit, pinching and twisting and smacking, your length hardening in moments in spite of the pain. “You’re a smarter girl than that.”

You try to call his name but he tightens his hold on you again, all but guiding you back and forth on his cock with just his grip. The mix of pain from his hands and pleasure from his thrusts nearly makes you go blind, vision whiting out. 

“So close, keep– fuck, keep squeezin’ me like that, perfect fucking hole–”

He jerks you once, twice, wrist twisting right at your tip, and you scream when you feel another orgasm rush over you, every muscle drawing tight and twitching in ecstasy. Your own sounds drown Johnny’s out, but you can feel his cum flood your cunt hardly a breath later, and he buries his teeth in you as he grinds himself as deep as he can get. 

You can’t stop the tremors in your hands, made mute when Johnny still doesn’t turn the sybian off. Everything is so much that it nearly fades to nothing, a baseline of overstimulation and pleasure like you’ve never felt, cunt holding Johnny tight and twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, just like the rest of you. 

You have no idea how much time passes before he pulls his teeth away from your shoulder, pushing his face beside yours, nuzzling cheeks. Your lips quiver, unable to keep a single train of thought. 

“That was so good,” he slurs against you, turning to press messy kisses to your cheek. “And you’re still so tight, bonnie, can hardly– Christ, I cannae fuckin’ breathe with you huggin’ me like this.”

“Jo– Johnny–”

“Hush,” he dips his head, presses more kisses to your shoulder. “Just– shit, just gimme a sec and we’ll go again, yeah?”

Tears streak down your cheeks at the idea, fingers trembling when you reach up to run them through his hair, and your lips twitch into a cock-drunk smile as Johnny pets your sides.

[yanderefarm]

ooo yes actually bully emil a tad i love that

i request tying him up, blind fold and strip him, stroke him but dont let him cum, and teasing endlessly

cw;; edging, hair pulling, temperature play, bondage, impact play, cbt

oh no poor emi~ who on earth could let this happen.

emil's muscles flexed and tightened as your hand dragged him to the edge again. and then nothing. the proud king sobbed.

you had been at this for hours at this point. your pretty little husband bound up tightly with lovely red ropes. you had used his long hair against him and tied it to a hook above his head keeping him from hiding under those golden locks. his eyes were covered in a thick black cloth that did nothing to catch the tears spilling down his cheeks but meant he had no hope of seeing what you were doing at any given moment. you alternated between dragging the king to the brink and punishing his body cruelly. his stomach and thighs were red and bruising from you whipping him until he calmed down. his chest had marks from you scratching and biting his skin with his nipples especially red from the clamps you had only recently removed.

you weren't about to show your arrogant husband any mercy. you waited for his body to calm down again before you wrapped your hand around his cock. your other hand grabbed an ice cube from a bucket near your bed but all emil could tell was the sound of things shifting. you smiled at the way his entire body flinched in anticipation.

"shhh baby, im going to soothe you." you cooed to him getting his body to relax into your slow gentle touch.

you let the ice melt in your hand before dripping the cold water over his tip. emil flinched again and his body instinctively pulled away from your hands. it was no use trying to escape you. you pressed the melting ice cube to his stomach and he whimpered like a bitch. his whole body was burning from your intimate acts so it didn't take long for the ice cube to melt completely.

generous as you were you immediately grabbed another, pressing it to his swollen red nipples. he let out a muffle cry as his body strained against his bonds. you didn't give him any break, your hand quickly pumping his cock as cold water spilled down his body.

"no-" he cried out so pathetically as more ice pressed into his body.

his squirming and writhing was useless. you pulled him closer to you by his cock as you grabbed more ice. the worst part for him was that he couldn't see where exactly your hands were going next, he couldn't brace himself for the cold. he didn't imagine you pressing the next ice cube against his red burning tip. his body jolted and jerked even as you still pumped his cock, the cold water coating his length as you moved.

his head rolled back as his soaked muscles flexed again with his orgasm approaching. you pulled your hands away but his sore cock still twitched and jerked as a thick drop of milky cum sadly dripped down his length.

"you came."

"n-no i didn't i pr-prom-"

you scooped up the cum that had spilled out of him and pressed it into his mouth, forcing him to lick up his mess. you returned your hand to his cock and gave him a hard flick to his aching tip. and then another. and another. until you heard him let out another pathetic bitch sob.

"stupid sluts don't deserve to cum."