You’re disturbed by what, that I’m not some lonely guy sitting in a basement just jacking myself off in self pity, but that instead I’m actually a normal guy, happily married with kids?
Or you’re disturbed that, OMFG NO, a parent might be able to actually talk to their children about sex and masturbation, and even, when they were older, give them some money to buy a vibrator because I’d rather she did that than use her electric toothbrush? God forbid I was a responsible, open parent.
You know you’re right. I’ll leave it to TV and social media because that’s the responsible thing to do. I won’t talk to them about sex, I’ll leave it a mystery and cross my fucking fingers that my kids won’t end up with STIs or being blackmailed because they cammed to some cunt or needing abortions, because ‘someone’ will do that job for me.
Or maybe I’ll leave it to schools, because they have such a good track record of teaching children what they actually need to know to do well in life. You know things like how to have a budget, or cook food, or have a healthy relationship. Oh no, I forgot, they don’t do any of that shit. Schools don’t even teach kids how to change a fucking fuse, hell no I’m not trusting them with my kid’s sex education!
Oh and god forbid they learn that sex could be fun and see it modelled in parents who love each other. Porn, that’s what I’ll let them learn from. I’m sure that’ll turn out great.
What you need to be disturbed about is the fact that girls are growing up hating themselves and their bodies. That they think sex is just a commodity to help you be popular. That they are taught that virginity is just a matter of what hole you let some guy shove their cocks in so anal sex is okay because it leaves them a virgin. That guys are growing up with porn stars as their only teachers of how to please a woman convinced that girls want a 10 inch dick and to have cum emptied, every fucking time, on their faces.
Or maybe, because we talk about sex as though it’s not going to make your head explode or cast you into a burning lake of fire when the word ‘masturbate’ is uttered she’ll be okay with it.
My wife talks to my daughter about this stuff and I talk to my son. But if I were a single dad I’d have no problem talking to her either, it’s just easier that way.
I don’t WANT to be involved that much, but I also don’t want the horrifying prospect of teaching my kids to drive, and I didn’t want to have to change their nappies (diapers) for years either. But I’m a parent, it’s part of my job!
As to when she’s ready, sure she can decide. If she comes up to me tomorrow and asks me for sex toy money, well, I might ask what the hell she’s been reading, check my internet filters and suggest maybe ask again when she’s a teenager. But that isn’t going to happen (please god).
Given that’s extremely unlikely at ANY age because kids… parents etc my wife having a chat with her at some point mid teens and giving her a gift voucher is probably the best way to go. I almost definitely won’t ask her what she bought over breakfast.
Mind you I have suggested we have a party to celebrate her first period so maybe I’m just a deeply embarrassing father.
I don’t know what this is but I really want a little pet rope dragon spirit thingie! Now! I’d rearrange my life to make sure it got the proper care and feeding it deserves, assuming that it feeds upon rope-space and squirmy, aroused submissives.
Also, I love that last tie… every single breath will pull on that “happy knot”.
Was it hours that had passed, or was it merely minutes? She had no idea, time itself seemed lost in limbo. Her only measurement of being that seemed to exist now was whether she was coming, or just recovering from having come. A hell of orgasms that would not stop.
An index of the stories I’ve written and posted onto the blog. Feedback is always appreciated and if you have any ideas of your own, feel free to send them my way.
Come one, come all and enjoy all the attractions at the Fetish Fair. Slightly more extreme than the other series, contains body modification and should be taken as nothing more than fantasy.
Carmen had been looking forward to going to college and when she meets a great guy on the first day all is looking up for her. When she makes an enemy, things aren’t going to go as Carmen originally hoped.
Victoria, a spoiled rich brat had gotten her way for most of her life but when she mistreats the man who had been hired to supervise her, her whole life is going to change.
Beverly and Christina had always relied on the geeks to do their homework for them for free but when they take advantage of the geeks generosity they get payback.
The idea of being impaled on a pole with a dildo at the end, either in your arse or cunt, and you’re perched on high heels so you simply can’t lift yourself high enough to climb off it. I love it.
I think if I started a denial slut school this is would be a punishment of choice… checked to see if you’d cum without permission (we’d always know), you’d be put on one of the poles in the school field, clothes allowed for lesser offences, stripped for more serious ones (like not ruining the orgasm when you did go over, tut tut).
A box of permanent marker pens would always be nearby for other girls to come and write whatever they wanted on you, snapping pictures to put online to show off their handiwork.
But the worst bit was when the boys from the neighbouring school would come around at the end of the day and see who’d been naughty, knowing they were allowed to touch and feel and play to their heart’s delight. Their favourite bit seemed to be when you couldn’t hold on to your pee any longer and it trickled down the post, and they’d all cheer.
For most girls one trip to ‘the poles’ was enough. But for a small minority it stopped being a punishment, and in fact they acted up all the time in order to experience the suffering and humiliation it offered. Always a progressive school this need was recognised, and one pole was converted, not with a dildo, but a vibrator, the craving denial slut’s kept on good behaviour with the promise that the best behaved each week would spend the night on there, exposed, dripping, forever edged. Some girls just need a carrot, not the stick.
FallingUnderASpell 
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