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purplesaline · 5 months ago

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Okay so the reason Pitbulls can be a dangerous dog is because they're terriers with a relatively strong bite force.

There are other breeds with much stronger bites that aren't considered as dangerous because the strength of the bite isn't the main issue.

You see, terriers as a breed were created as rodent control.

Quick bit of background before I get into why that's an issue.

Wolves have a predatory motor sequence that follows this pattern

orient > eye > stalk > chase > grab-bite > kill-bite > dissect > consume

When we started creating different dog breeds for different jobs we started playing around with emphasizing or deemphasizing different parts of that sequence. For example collies, as a herding breed, have a heavily emphasized Chase, a greatly deemphasizes grab-bite and the rest of the chain after that is all but extinct. When whatever he's chasing stops moving my smooth collie just stops and waits for them to run again!

Coming back to terriers and their job of rodent control. When you've got a lot of rodents to get rid of you don't want your dog wasting time with the dissect > consume portion of the sequence and the grab-bite is much less important than the kill-bite. Essentially what you've got in a terrier is See > Chase > Kill-Bite, and maybe a de-emphasized grab-bite before the kill-bite, ad infinitum until all the rodents are gone.

How this translates to why terriers are dangerous when it comes to people? It's a breed that was created with a mentality of bite to kill and keep biting until it's killed then move on to the next target.

There's really just no space to pause and breathe where the sequence can be more easily interrupted.

And this holds true for all terrier breeds! Not just Pitbulls! A Yorkshire terrier isn't as large though, and while an Airdale terrier is larger they aren't very common.

Pair this with the breeding of Pitbulls for aggression for use in dog fighting rings, their intimidating looks making them a popular choice for people who want a dog to act aggressively and are likely to abuse the dog, and a general misunderstanding and mismanagement of the dog and you've got Public Enemy Number One despite the fact they are the biggest damn sweethearts in the world. Those eyes! They get me every time.

People will leave their Pitbull alone with smaller pets, or even children, and something will trigger the predatory sequence and the dog will be over-threshold and unable to think rationally (think fight/flight mode) and start biting and won't stop until whatever they're biting is dead. And then they'll blame the dog when they're the ones that shouldn't have left the dog unsupervised in the first place.

Is a Pitbull dangerous? Every Pitbull has the potential to be dangerous, yes, regardless of how well they are trained or how much they've been spoiled or how loved they are.

It is our job as owners to mitigate that potential danger and the easiest and most impactful thing we can do is never leave them unsupervised around anything or anyone who can't manage them if their predatory sequence is triggered. If there's no one to supervise, crate them until someone can be.

The dog isn't the problem. They were bred to do a specific job and nine times out of ten aren't receiving enrichment for those instincts either!

But people who don't understand the temperament of the dog they're bringing into their home assume that genetics doesn't impact behaviour, or that training can negate genetic influence and come home from work to a mass murder scene in their living room.

So, are pitbulls a dangerous breed? Absolutely! Are Pitbulls the problem? Absolutely not.

Do you know what the consensus on pit bulls is? Some people say the negative stereotypes surrounding them are unfair, while others insist they’re inherently dangerous dogs that shouldn’t be kept as pets. Both views are biased to some degree, so I don’t know which to believe.

they're just. dogs.

and same as german shepards, same as huskies, same as dalmations, they have specific breed requirements and aren't right for every home! also like all dogs, they have to be trained to be a reliable and safe pet. but with their needs met and good training, they're about the same as any other dog in their size range (with individual exceptions for personal history and trauma of course)

#for what it's worth I don't leave my collie unsupervised #around anything he shows a desire to chase either #i trust he'd never try to hurt it #but why take the risk?#recently learned that if another dog is involved and increasing that excitement level #he'll at minimum move to the grab-bite part of the sequence #(he and the papillon were chasing ducks and she was hyping him up and encouraging him and raising the excitement level well past his normal #(and he grabbed the poor duck)#(who is completely fine btw)#(there were multiple adults around to intervene)#basically always assume your dog can go there #and you'll reduce the likelihood they ever will

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pathologicalreid · 7 months ago

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bringing your work home with you | S.R.

spencer shares details of a case with you - with a hands-on learning approach

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: case information from 10x17 "breath play", erotic asphyxiation, choking, fingering, praise kink, aftercare, explicit consent, softdom!spencer, sub!reader, dacryphilia (ish), established relationship dl;dr. word count: 1.74k a/n: im no longer afraid of being perceived on the internet (lie) and will begin writing whatever i want (truth). including this.

“How was work?” You asked hesitantly, looking across the couch to where Spencer was sitting. He was lost in thought, although, you supposed if you had just returned from Wisconsin, you’d feel relatively similar.

Spencer hummed absentmindedly in response while flipping through the pages of the file he brought home with him. “The UnSub certainly had a unique signature,” he answered, dragging his thumb across his lower lip in thought.

You tilted your head to the side in curiosity, “Oh, yeah?” It wasn’t often that Spencer shared details of cases with you, usually because the information he’d be divulging was privileged, but you shuffled over a cushion in hopes that he’d share with you. “What was it?”

He reached over and ruffled your hair affectionately, “He had a particular affinity for erotic asphyxiation. Each of his victims had read this book, Bare Reflections, and that’s how he found them – through sexual fantasies.”

Furrowing your brows, you rested your face in your hand, “So like… sex choking?”

“Yes, love. Like sex choking,” Spencer said, not without humor, before getting up and going to the kitchen, asking you if you needed anything as he did.

When he returned, sitting down on the couch and flipping the file back open, you leaned to the side and said, “I never got the whole choking thing. Not being able to breathe never seemed very sexy to me.”

At that, Spencer closed the file he was scribbling in and set it on the coffee table, “It’s not meant to fully restrict your breathing. At least, not if you’re doing it properly.”

“And you know how to do it properly?” You challenged, raising a single brow at your boyfriend.

He laughed breathily at your test, “I know human anatomy well enough to know not to press on your trachea.”

You fail to hide the way your eyes widen when he speaks to you, his use of the words ‘your trachea’ implying that he is now thinking about choking you. “Cool,” you responded, your brain spinning as you began to think about Spencer’s hand on your throat.

“Come here,” Spencer spoke up, already grabbing your waist and sliding you across the worn leather of the couch. He carefully guided your body over his own until you’re straddling him – one knee on either side of his hips. “You’re a kinesthetic learner, you’ll do better with a hands-on approach.”

Letting a shuddered breath loose, you met Spencer’s eyes, “Hi,” you whispered, keeping your voice low as if you were sharing a secret in a crowded room. Without waiting for him to move, you ducked your head and pressed your lips to his. Quickly, Spencer’s lips coaxed yours open, allowing for his tongue to slip into your mouth.

Spencer’s arms wrapped tightly around you, pressing your chest to his so that you could feel the buttons of his work shirt through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. You were severely underdressed compared to him, lounging in just a t-shirt and underwear while he was wearing his work attire – it just added to the power dynamic you were navigating.

Gently, Spencer tugged at your lower lip, taking the flesh between his teeth before pulling away from the kiss. “Do you trust me?” He asked, loosening his hold on you, and instead running his hands down your arms in a soothing manner.

Straightening up, you nodded, “Yes,” you responded, reaching a hand up and grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

Lifting his dominant hand to your neck, your breathing faltered as he put his hand at the front of your neck, the thumb on one side and the remainder of his fingers on the opposite. “Is this alright?” He murmured, using his free hand to trace small circles on your inner thigh, leaving you wishing you could press your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction.

“Yes,” you repeated yourself, taking the inside of your cheek between your molars and sighing when he moved his hand from your leg.

Nodding assuredly, Spencer brushed your hair from your face, his dominant hand never straying from its newfound home on your throat. “Good, I’m going to keep asking because we’ve never talked about this before,” he informed you. “I won’t fully restrict your airway. If you need me to stop at any point, just tap my arm three times.”

His words led you to relax. The two of you left almost everything on the table, and you were usually good about discussing things ahead of time. You were sure he’d start doing things he knows you like in order to put you at ease. “Thank you,” you whispered, studying his golden irises.

“Such good manners for me, angel,” he praised you, noting the way your back straightens up when he does so. “When I squeeze the sides of your throat like this,” he said, keeping his voice gentle as his hand tightened around your neck, “I’m stopping some of the air from getting to your brain, which makes you feel lightheaded, and when I let go,” he released his firm hold, “You feel a release of dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins that make your head spin.”

As Spencer guided you through the process, you felt yourself getting needier. Humming lowly as you came down from the high, you noticed Spencer’s hand back between your thighs – you couldn’t tell when he had moved his hand, you were too preoccupied.

You held your breath as his hand slipped into your panties, “Hey,” he chided, snapping you out of your anticipation. “Don’t hold your breath,” he says sternly, “I won’t touch you if you hold your breath.”

Pointedly taking a deep breath, it took all of your focus to maintain your breathing as he gently slid a finger between your folds, the wet noise only muffled by the fabric of your underwear. Tentatively, Spencer slipped his finger inside you, swirling it around your inner walls before pulling it out and pushing it back in, squeezing the sides of your throat as he started fingering you at a steady pace.

“Do you feel that?” He asked, continuing the pace he had set, keeping his voice low as he spoke to you. “How when I squeeze your throat your cunt tightens around my finger?”

Reaching a hand up, you gripped his forearm and placed your other hand on his shoulder, trying to steady yourself and desperately needing something to do with your hands. You let out a soft moan as he easily added another finger to his ministrations, your volume growing louder as he released your throat. Your skin flushed as you bit your bottom lip and looked up to the ceiling.

Quickly squeezing your neck, Spencer brought your attention back down to him, “Keep your eyes on me, love.”

You nodded almost imperceptibly in response, blinking rapidly, but leaving your head where Spencer held it – gently forcing you to maintain eye contact with him as he started curling his fingers inside of you, pushing his fingertips against your inner walls. “Spence,” you whispered, letting out a low whine as you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly.

“Did you wanna cum? Make a mess all over my hand?” Spencer asked tantalizingly, resuming pressure on your throat before you even had a chance to respond to him. He was enjoying this just as much as you were.

As you maintained eye contact with Spencer, he began to press the heel of his palm against your clit, the pressure only adding to your lightheadedness. With his hand on your neck, your moans come out garbled, forcing their way through your body. “Fuck,” the word came out as a hiss as tears gathered in your lower lash line. Between the pressure on your clit and throat and the continuing ministrations of his digits, your orgasm built up quickly.

In-kind with the pressure on your throat, you squeezed firmly at Spencer’s forearm, and he watched carefully to make sure that you weren’t trying to tap on his arm.

Your tears flooded over the edge, slowly streaming down your cheeks. You blinked to clear your eyes, but you didn’t let your eye contact with Spencer waver.

A small whimper escaped your throat, and Spencer hummed, “There you go, angel.” He said, nodding as his fingers continued working you to your peak, “I know,” he cajoled when you whined again. “I know. Let it go for me,” he murmured, watching as your body shuddered.

Once your orgasm hits its zenith, Spencer released his hold on your neck, moving his hand to your shoulder to keep you upright while your pussy spasmed around his still-thrusting fingers. Endorphins flooded your mind, prolonging your orgasm for god knows how long until he finally withdrew his fingers from your underwear.

While you remembered how to breathe, Spencer moved his hand from your shoulder to your back, gently pressing on your spine and letting your body fall forward. “I knew you’d like that,” he whispered mischievously, and if you had the energy, you would have rolled your eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Groaning, you buried your face in the crook of Spencer’s neck, “Jell-O,” you responded simply.

Your eyes were barely open as Spencer reached over for a tissue box, wiping your slick off of his hand before slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your panties. You whined and tried to push his hand away, “I know, baby. I just want to wipe you up a bit.” He told you before gathering your wetness on the tissue, wrapping it up and placing it on the end table.

“Toss it,” you mumbled sleepily, ignorant of the fact that you’re still in his lap.

Wrapping an arm around you tightly, Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “When you feel like moving, I’ll clean up.” He reached over for a glass of water from the end table, grabbing it from its coaster and trying to hand it to you, “Come on, you need water.”

Sighing, you forced your eyes open, “’m tired,” you told him, reaching a shaky hand up for the glass.

Spencer kept a hand on the glass as you drank from it, setting it back down when you were done and smiling softly at your sleepy nature. “Rehydrating is a nonnegotiable,” he whispered gently, but you were already asleep - or close enough to it that you didn’t respond.

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