SadoFiend @sado-fiend - Tumblr Blog

Posts

Hi! She/Her. 27. TMA.

I like to cook new foods, lift weights, and see cute things tormented. This blog is for lewd & strange thoughts.

Original writings are typically tagged with #sadoposting

I do have an Ao3 where I back up the posts I'm particularly proud of:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadofiend/works

julytrees

Nell Dorr, Nude in Turban, 1930. From the Nell Dorr Estate Collection.

firem4ge

Hey guys (sic) I feel left out when you talk about the institutional violence primarily leveraged against racialized trans women. I hope you dudes (sic) don’t mind if I call myself a tranny and pretend I’m the primary target of it.

innerchildabortionclinic

just saw the phrase "abortionable amount of weeks pregnant"

killuazedykee

estrogenesis-vaporeongelion

hey girl. you can call me taylor farms lettuce. cause i'm trying to blow that ass out from coast to coast

#oh this is terrible #i love it

ashenmind

“rig” is a fun verb because it is usually technical yet often ambiguous

you are doing something specific to something that’s for sure

ashenmind

huh

softsapphiclove

We’re watching a movie together with her friends. It started out innocently enough. Settled in my lap on a love seat, her back pressed to my chest and my chin resting on her shoulder. My arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. I let them loosen a little as the movie continues on. When my hand slips unintentionally further down until my wrists are resting in the top her thighs, she spreads her legs under the blanket. Enticing me, inviting me to touch her. At first it’s just a couple of brushes of my finger tips over her through her clothes. The little hitches in breath are masked entirely by the sound from the screen. No one paying attention, even if they looked they would struggle to see the shape of my hand moving under the blanket in the low light.

My fingers slip into her panties and I need to bite her shoulder so I don’t make a sound when my fingers are coated instantly in her wetness.

“You’re perfect.” I whisper into her ear, my fingers circling her clit so gently she bucks her hips forward. I play with her just like that, gently then firmer then gentle again. Each time I think she’s going to make a noise I stop. Edging her over and over until she’s shaking and trembling against my thighs, struggling to keep her breathing even, teeth indents in her lip from how hard she biting it. I can feel her soaking through her clothes and mine.

“Don’t make a sound.” I nip at her earlobe.

When I finally stop pulling my fingers away I feel her jerk, hear the gasp and my free hand is over her mouth in an instant, muffling the sound, pushing my fingers into her mouth to give her something to suck on to keep quiet as she comes.

“Good girl,” whispered, followed by a soft kiss against her ear.

lady-of-fangs-lyrlia

“As far as kinks go, marking has to be one that’s stuck in my head the longest. Collars are the staple, the go to, and the first thing most people think of, at least in the kink community, to denote a claim. There around your throat is some thick leather band or delicate little day collar that someone else put on you. It doesn’t, or rarely, comes off, and eventually becomes so much a part of you that you forget it most of the time. Did you know one time one of my long term partners went into work with her collar still on? Lovely little leather number with pink under stitching. Goodness I could only imagine how red she was when her boss pointed it out.”

The chair under you is dreadfully uncomfortable. Heavy, wooden, high backed, no padding. You’ve been tied to it several times before, but tonight is different. There are no toys waiting to be used on your exposed body; just the rope binding you to your seat. Tonight I’ve taken far more time than usual securing your wrists and ankles.

“Jewelry is another one people often jump for. Wedding rings of course, but imagine instead a solid silver bracelet. Something engraved and hand crafted, fit to your wrist just perfectly. Thick enough you’d feel the weight with every movement of your arm. Think how often your hands and wrists are in your vision. You’d always see it, always remember that moment I first slipped it on. And even if it did manage to drift from your attention, someone’s bound to comment on its beauty and draw you back.”

“There are less considered options. You have things like perfumes, or clothing. Picking out how you dress out on the town, what you’ll wear to work, or what you’ll smell like. Each of them, large or small dictating how other people perceive you. I think that’s a fascinating degree of power to be given over a person.”

When I place the butane torch on my work table you begin to squirm. You can’t help yourself, I understand. Anxiety and fear causes every animal to find the boundaries of its leash. You however have nowhere to go, bound as you are. I start the flame before I dial in the heat. You watch in open fascination.

“My favorites are the permanent kind, or at least the nearly permanent. Maybe a tattoo on your hip that every one of your future lovers will see when they kiss their way down your body? Or maybe I’d like it a little higher. Tucked up near your collar bone. You’d see it only when you look in the mirror but you’d have to change your entire wardrobe. Either to hide it in shame or expose it to everyone you meet. Regardless I’m still dictating that control over you, forcing you to consider every future outfit choice. Even if you do decide to hide it you’ll have to show it off to some future partner. You’ll have to either explain the truth to them and watch the emotions play across their face, or lie to them. Break a vow of trust between you both because you couldn’t handle the alternative.”

“Where all those fail is their impermanence. Collars are made to be removed. Perfume can be washed off. Jewellery gets taken off before every scene. Even tattoos can be covered up, or naturally fade with time.”

I’ve put my back to you, my body blocking your view of the flame and whatever I was doing. Heavy boxes are opened, the sounds of metal hitting metal mixing with the roar of the torch. Smells you can’t place start to reach your nose as the torch warms something.

“Scars though? There’s one of my favorite ways to mark someone. This part of you, maybe even the whole of you, was unblemished before you met me. Now it’s imperfect. Changed. You’re just a little less whole, a little different than you were before and you’ll never escape that knowledge body or mind.”

“The impact of my intrusion on your life should leave physical consequences, don’t you think?”

In one hand you can see me holding the softly glowing length of a cattle brand, the air around the tip shimmering from the heat. Faintly you can make out the first initial of my name woven into the design of the metal.

“Just like I taught you, breathe through the pain baby.”

(If you would like to support my writing and help me relocate to a safer place I've included my cash app below or you can DM for my paypal)

https://cash.app/$LyrWrites

innumerable-voices

About a week ago we found a 5cm (2 inch) tumor in the motor cortex of my eldest child's brain

It's almost certainly benign and it is operable, we have a surgery booked in for a couple of weeks from now, but it's a miserable time and they've lost a lot of their mobility and can't do much for themselves any more

We also have reasonable health care so it's not like we're now hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt, but the three adults took a week off work each, we spent a few hundred on a wheel chair, a couple hundred on a walker, a couple hundred on other mobility aids, a couple hundred on takeout because the hospital is a few hours from home, a couple hundred on fucking parking, and so on. And we have to do it all again in a couple of weeks.

Which adds up to a huge hole in our normally fairly stable budget

I want to be clear that we probably don't need help, we can probably call in enough favours, eat two minute noodles for a few days, maybe borrow money to make rent, we could survive. But it's just another wildly stressful thing that we don't need whilst trying to support our newly disabled child and help them through the worst few weeks of their life

So if you can help, if you want to help, we would really appreciate it

Support Miss Innumerable

cibastion

Dollhood

porcelain-dollbones

mammals whenever they encounter any sort of problem: hold on let me secrete a useful fluid

robotdogdyke

Hey folks, im back on tumblr because things are rough. Im currently -100 in my bank account due to overdraft bullshit. Anything yall can donate i would greatly appreciate it. Funds go towards keeping my cat fed

Capp $Mcw1999

Vnm Misshell99

robotdogdyke

Im still negative one hundred in my bank account, unable to buy gas or cat food. If you can give anything even a dollar it would mean a lot

robotdogdyke

Ive gotten 25 dollars so far, thank you so much, please anything else you can give is greatly appreciated 💜

hacash

someone at the marketing department had a little too much fun with this

villainessbian

a challenger

dappercyborg

@pastapersona @xpossum

pastapersona

mmmm walkiesss....

gayvampyr

it really pisses me off when adults sit there and drill it into kids’ heads that their youth is fleeting and tell them things like “enjoy your childhood while it lasts because this is the best it’s gonna get”. why are you telling children that adulthood is the worst thing they can experience? seriously what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you trying to make them feel like growing up is a fate worse than death? trying to convince them their life is over before it even begins? i’m tired of that shit. because tell my why my 12 year old cousin told me when she turns 30 she’ll be so depressed she’s just gonna cry all the time. what the fuck. kids don’t need to hear that their already stressful and overwhelming lives are never going to get better, that the abuse and lack of autonomy they face is apparently the highlight of their lives. they need to hear about adults who are happy to be alive and happy to have made it to their age. they need to know that growing up rules, it’s a gift and life does not have to suck for them, that they have a future that’s worth sticking around for. this rhetoric is so damaging mentally and i’m about to start hitting the adults who parrot it. i’m sorry you hate your life but you don’t get to dump your issues on these kids. don’t piss me off and leave these babies alone!