trying to take advantage of your ftm partner and he overtakes you and shows you how to really be dominant (tw: cnc, boundary pushing)
We’re on the couch watching TV, and I’m rubbing his thigh while his legs are resting on my lap. It’s been a slow day, full of cleaning with a musical backtrack playing from the kitchen.
He’s been a tease for days now, leading me on and telling me I’ll get what I want soon, only to deny me for yet another day.
Rubbing his leg, I think about how I miss the feeling of him inside me, and wonder if I could ever know what he would feel like wrapped around my fingers.
He’s a stone top, and the dominant in our relationship. I don’t touch him, I get touched by him, whenever He wants. I know my desires for his body can never be fulfilled, but I can’t help daydreaming about it.
Subconsciously, my hand begins to travel up his leg. I stroke back and forth, each upstroke coming closer to an area I’ve never had the privilege of contact with, only scraped over with my eyes.
“Careful baby, move your hand before you get in trouble.” His warning struck through my thoughts, an intended reminder of my place only emboldening me further.
“What if I don’t move it?” I grab his inner thigh, giving it a light squeeze.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His tone indicates he isn’t going to tolerate my behaviour, a punishment will come if I continue.
I muster up enough courage to move my hand, grabbing his crotch and attempting to get under his clothes. I can feel his mound through his boxers and shiver at the thought of getting to it.
He reacts faster than I thought possible - in a matter of seconds I’m pinned down, and his hand is hovering over my zipper, poised to attack.
“Wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mea-” My words are cut off my his hand diving into my pants, his fingers immediately finding their target and pumping in and out.
“You think you’re a big tough guy who can take what he wants, huh? You want to be a big tough man?” I try to push his hand away, but he’s holding me in place. His fingers feel so good, I can’t think straight.
“You think you know what you want, but you’re just a silly little girl. I know how to take control and I know how to use you.”
I’m bending over now, unable to maintain my posture with him using my body. “Please Daddy, I’m sorry” I beg him, but it’s no use.
“Don’t ever, ever, think you have any power in this relationship because I have all of it. You belong to me.” His fingers speed up and I lean into him for support.
“You’re pathetic, leaning into your rapist for more. You really thought you could use someone else? You’re nothing but a toy for others.” Removing his fingers, he orders me to stand and sends me stumbling for the strap-on. I toss it to him and lay on the bed, resigned to my fate.
He crawls on top of me, reaching to the nightstand for something I can’t see. He holds my mouth open and places a gag around my head. “Just in case you regain some energy, we wouldn’t want the neighbours to hear.”
Feeling the tip of his strap at my entrance, I put up a final struggle, but I know deep down I won’t escape. He pushes into me quickly and I feel myself tear up.
As I’m fucked into the couch, I’m reminded to never cross him again. His body is for my eyes to worship, and I am never to lay a hand on him.
