#bd/sm corruption

[the-fever-pitch]

You asked me to bring out my sub side and you know how much I love to please you.

I want to be corrupted, I want it so much.

Play with me until you find out where my weak spots are. Tease my most sensitive body parts while you whisper in my ear how red my cheeks are, how easy I'm making it for you. Edge me until I'm begging you to let me cum, screaming how I'd do anything, please, fuck, p-please. Oh, and how you'd take advantage of it.

“Anything you say?”

Play with me, corrupt me little by little. Train me to serve you as you please, make me your personal fucktoy. Pull, suck and bite my nipples until just caressing them over my clothes makes my underwear wet, make me learn commands that the moment I hear I can't help but submit like a trained dog. Turn my body into a perfect obscenity for you, but it's okay because all I can think about is you, how good it feels to be yours, to be good.

[narcissistichedonist]

gently talking her through the forced orgasms

"good girl"

"just like that, angel"

"come on, one more for me, be good"

"aw, are you crying ? what a precious little thing you are"

"keep grinding on my hand, my sweet puppy"

"shhh, i know it hurts my darling doll"

"don't worry, silly girl, you won't die"

[domdraven]

No one talks about doms having voice kinks too. Like don't know about you but I'm making you moan louder and louder just to hear the pretty sounds I love so much. And the embarrassing things I make you say? They always sound better coming from your lips

[wanderingwitch69]

mhm~ I need this~

Brain Stuff. You’re hunched over your desk, the glow of your laptop screen casting shadows across your cluttered apartment. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, ready to type the next paragraph of your dissertation — something about neural plasticity in machine learning models. It’s brilliant stuff, the kind of work that’s gotten you whispers of “genius” from your PhD advisors. You’re in the zone, your brain firing on all cylinders, when the front door clicks open.

“Hey, babe,” comes his voice, low and casual, like he doesn’t know what it does to you. Your boyfriend steps inside, shedding his jacket. He’s got that easy grin, the one that makes your stomach tighten. You glance up, meaning to say something sharp and witty, but he’s already peeling off his shirt, revealing the lean muscle underneath. Your mouth goes dry. The words you were about to type — something about synaptic pruning — slip away like sand through your fingers.

“Missed you today,” he says, crossing the room. He’s close now, close enough that you can smell the faint spice of his cologne. Your pulse kicks up, and you try to focus on the screen. You’re a goddamn scholar, you can handle this. But then he leans over your shoulder, his breath brushing your ear, and says, “What’s my smart girl working on?”

Your brain stutters. “Uh… it’s, um…” You squint at the screen, but the words lose their meaning. Neural what? Plasticity? Fuck, you know this. You wrote fifteen pages on it yesterday. His hand slides onto your shoulder, thumb brushing your neck, and your IQ takes a nosedive. “It’s… brain stuff,” you manage, voice small. You hate how stupid you sound, how you can feel your own brilliance leaking out of you as he closes the distance.

He chuckles, soft and loving, and that sound alone makes your thighs clench. “Brain stuff, huh? Tell me more.” His fingers dip lower, tracing the edge of your tank top, and you try — God, you try — to string a sentence together. “It’s about… how brains… change?” Your voice lilts up like a question, and you want to scream. You’re not some ditzy undergrad; you’re a fucking PhD candidate. But his hands are on your chest now, cupping you through your shirt, and your thoughts scatter like dropped marbles.

“C’mon, babe,” he teases, turning your chair to face him. “You’re usually so quick.” He’s smirking, and you hate how much you love it. You open your mouth to snap back, to prove you’ve still got it, but then he’s kissing you — hard, messy, all tongue and heat — and your mind goes blank. Not fuzzy, not slow, just empty. You kiss him back, hands fumbling to his waist, and all you can think is cock. One word, looping like a broken record.

He pulls you up, backing you toward the couch, and you trip over your own feet. Normally you’d curse yourself for being clumsy, but right now you just giggle — high pitched, brainless. “You’re so hot,” you blurt, and it’s the most coherent thing you’ve said in minutes. He grins, shoving his jeans down, and when you see him— hard, thick, right there — your knees buckle. You drop to the cushions, staring up at him, mouth slack. You should be analyzing data right now, not drooling like some horny idiot.

“Fuck, look at you,” he mutters, climbing over you. His hands yank your shorts off. You’re already so wet. You try to focus, one last chance to claw back a shred of intellect. “Wait, I — I need to finish—” you start, but then he’s pushing inside you, slow and deliberate, and the rest of the sentence evaporates. Your head lolls back, a moan spilling out instead. You feel him stretch you, fill you, and your brain shuts down completely. “Oh… oh God,” you whimper, legs wrapping around him on instinct.

He starts moving, thrusting deep, and you’re gone. No more dissertation, no more research — just his cock, slamming into you, turning you into a panting, writhing mess. “Tell me something smart,” he pants against your neck, mocking you now, and you want to, you need to, to prove you’re not this dumb slut he’s turning you into. “Th-the brain… it… f-fuck, it d—” You can’t finish. Every thrust scrambles your thoughts more, until you’re babbling nonsense, hips bucking to meet him.

You’re frustrated, somewhere deep down, because you know this isn’t you. You’ve presented at conferences, dismantled arguments from tenured professors, but right now you can’t even remember your own name. “Please,” you gasp, not sure what you’re begging for — him to stop, or keep going, or something else entirely. He grabs your hips, angles himself deeper, and you stop caring. “Sho… haaard…” you slur, drooling over the syllables, “sho… deeeep…”

He laughs, a low rumble. “That’s my girl. Just let go.” And you do, you can’t hold on anymore. He fucks you harder, faster, and you’re nothing but heat and need, whimpering every time he bottoms out. Your nails dig into his back, and you’re close — so close — then he groans, loud and guttural, and you feel his hot cum pour into every crevice. You climax alongside each other.

It’s instant. The second his cum hits you, it’s like a switch flips. Your vision clears, your breathing steadies, and your brain kicks back into gear. Synaptic pruning. Neural plasticity. Machine learning models. You blink up at him, still slick with sweat, and push him off with a shaky hand. “Rude,” you say, voice sharp again. He flops beside you, grinning, while you stagger to your desk, naked, his cum dripping down your thigh. You sit down, pull up your dissertation, and start typing like nothing happened — sentences crisp, ideas flowing.

“Welcome back, genius,” he calls, still sprawled on the couch, annoyingly smug. You don’t even look at him, but your lips twitch. Just ignore him, you’re back, and you’ve got work to finish. At least until he gets hard again.

[vampire-enby-fag]

Roommate who walks in on me fingering myself and forces my fingers out of me. Pinning me to the bed and stroking my tdick between their fingers because that's how men are supposed to jerk off.

[secretalphaghost]

Make her brain say "404: Thought Not Found"

[kaionyx]

Why is cockwarming only talked about in the sense that you do it before sex and not after too like it’s not the best way to break a puppy into the perfect cocksleeve?

Finally settling down after rounds of different scenes just to pin them under my weight and hold them like a stuffed animal on my cock, letting them whine and squirm at the fullness in their belly from holding all of the constant loads i’ve rutted back inside until they stop and just accept it. Forcing them feel dazed and bred while going in and out of consciousness to a mixture of soft kisses and sweet words, like how I can’t leave yet because they just feel so good around me and what a precious fuckmutt they’ve been for my cock.

How could their poor mind not rewire itself into thinking how grateful they are to be constantly broken and fixed by someone like me by the time i’m done hmm?

[pupcuntz]

despite hating it in my everyday life, someone being condescending to me or babying me during sex is such a turn on…

“aw, i know, sweet boy. i know it hurts.”

“shh, you can take it. can’t you?”

“i know it’s so difficult. let me stretch you out, baby boy.”

“aw, you poor thing. so tight and pathetic for me, aren’t you?”

[regaliaafterdark]

Don't stop edging.

Remember that you're nothing but a dumb little whore, with an actual, real addiction to masturbating. You're a pathetic girl who can't help but touch herself any time she finds herself alone. You have an addiction to feeling good, you cannot stop feeling that tingling sensation while you look and porn and imagine yourself being used and abused.

Keep fantasizing about the fleshlight you are about to become.

Don't

Stop

Edging.

[fallenxangel-13]

fallen angel worshipping your body for the first time. eyes widening in adoration, as though seeking salvation in your flesh alone. his fingertips ghost over your soft skin, lips murmuring praises against your bare neck- warm and desperate-before he takes you raw.

"you're so divine," he groans in your ear, his large wings shudder, feathers rustling as he thrusts deeper into you-eager for more. his faintest whispers send shivers down your spine. "forgive me, love.. heaven was wrong. you were made for me. only me. understand?"

[narcissistichedonist]

you love being edged, don’t you

dragged to the brink again and again like the desperate little thing you are

you start off so proud, so composed

but it doesn’t take long before you’re panting, trembling, clenching around nothing

begging with your whole body even if the only sound you can muster are whimpers and moans

i’ll make you leak for me

make you cry from how bad it hurts to be kept right there

so close you can taste it

so far you might actually go insane

you’ll say you can’t take it

you’ll swear you’re going to break

but you won’t

not yet

i’ll tease you until you forget what cumming even feels like

until you’re just a mess of whimpers and need

until your pleasure is mine to withhold like a hand on your throat

because that’s what you really crave, isn’t it

not the release

just the ruin

just the ache

just the merciless control that turns your pleasure into punishment

[domdraven]

Praising a sub with a voice kink is too easy. “You did such a good job baby” over something small, and suddenly they’re stuttering, flushed, soaking through their clothes like I whispered filth instead of being sweet. It’s so adorable

[vampire-enby-fag]

High and drunk rn, anyone want to use my face? (or anywhere else)

[corruption-is-king]

Calling you degrading names with my fingers inside you to see which ones make your cunnie tighten

[secretalphaghost]

Remember that you're nothing but a dumb little whore, with an actual, real addiction to masturbating. You're a pathetic girl who can't help but touch herself any time she finds herself alone. You have an addiction to feeling good, you cannot stop feeling that tingling sensation while you look and porn and imagine yourself being used and abused

[pupcuntz]

once a boy told me he was going to turn me from “an innocent boy” to his own “permahorny boyslut” and the thought still gets me wet to this day. like yes transform me into something stupid and special just for you >_<