/lit/ - Literature

>>15049135
>6:45pm: it looks absolutely changed in here

>I’ve been having a lot of thoughts about bdsm while vacuuming, maybe because I typed about ‘voce’ and it made me think of incels, and a seeming increase in bdsm/humiliation/torture porn, a kind of icky and creature-like view towards women, etc…

>I think bdsm is kinda fun when you’re bored and in love but I’ve always kinda viewed it as…like…a weird nerdy thing

>It’s like…

>I’m laughing

>It’s like ‘wizard stuff’ to me, kind of

>Like ‘owning snakes as pets’ stuff

>I really don’t get it and it does nothing for me

>I like some light improvised restraints and stuff…like…some aggression, sure

>‘Improvised’ is key. Because so much of the bdsm-y sex I’ve had feels like a performance, and one I just…never got a script for

>It’s just weird when all of a sudden I find out from some guy that some unscripted pleasure I just experienced (god forbid, my agency/desire) broke his ‘boner rules’

>I’ve practiced it enough, I learned how to do it, it’s just like…you just have to pretend you don’t really want to be doing what you’re doing. I have ‘method acted’ by drawing on my ‘genuinely not liking that I have to pretend I don’t want to be having sex with this guy’ emotions. But now I think when I’m expected to do it I’m just numb

>Sad

>Yuck, why? How come you made that your life little meggo

>I’m probably not very good at it

>It’s a good thing, to me, to not be good at

>I don’t see myself doing it again…who knows, though

>I’m okay with not having sex for a long time because I feel like most guys are like, so funny and great and smart and oh wow, but then you find out they need you to watch them feed their exotic pythons with mice transmuted from sacred mage spells and like, extremely fast orchestral metal music playing, and NO LAUGHING ALLOWED THIS IS NOT FUNNY

>THIS IS SEXY

>BEHOLD THE POWER OF MY SEX SPELL, WOMYNTHING

>NOTHING WILL BE THE SAME AFTER THIS

The Spire Siege lasted less than an hour, and became for almost two years the most filmed media spectacle in the human extent, besting even the heart-wrenching hermetic videographers of the Martian Onewayers, requiring the voluminous poetics of the Jovian Imams to finally unseat the only video evidence purporting to show the legendary cybernetic organism in forelorn combat odds so popularly performed and celebrated in nomadic and subcity folklores as The Spire Butcheress, the Tango Tumbler or The Red One, depending on the threads of the rhizome.
Spreading into the archives and broadcasts of the globe with the accelerated rapacity of leaked unauthorized pornography, destined for curtailment with precarious files forever hunted, even in powerless dormancy, there was long a campaign of some decades’ worth of memetic trimming, hedging, editing, doubting and thereby rendering safe the now nearly lost St. Crispian video evidence, a compilation of several adjacent personal cameras, catching the hundred and ninth floor’s shattering windows, comparatively uneventful to the hundred and fifth floor’s entire North Eastern panes being blown to sunlit shimmery smitherines, that being mere prologue to the tenant flotsam of deskchairs, wheeled laboratory stools, tumbling flasks, jars that enswirled the outwardly tumbling, leaping or thrown heavily armored soldiers, more than once one of their lot being hurled into a line or echelon of them and send them all plummeting out of the shakily tracing cameras. The Red One’s ocular feed went incommunicado when she descended into the tower’s electronically sealed floors, and only a few seconds of the minutes worth of the Point-of-View combat footage have ever circulated around the memetic exchanges, public facing streams having long been purged of her.

>megan is always watching you, autofictioning your life

>>13257231

wait, one minute please, is this a containment thread?

>>13222222
ima sniff them digits

>>13207650
Goddesses so favor the fairest feet
Like Megan Boyle's own rank tootsie meat
Guarded from creeps, she keeps her feet chaste
Modestly shod in boots, leggings of lace
Podiatric fans phone from restricted
So Daddy's friend soon got them evicted
Greedily Megan savors her feets funks
Dangling a heel to trip-up lusty lunks
As a grape and so squished by her feet's plod
Her soles eclipsing sky and sun, so awed
Scarce is the chance for any pedal glance
Telepath to her socks by lucid trance
Trade crypto for clippings, not as a goof
Liquify, titrate, so prepare to boof
Huffing Megan's foot goo, face-fulls of socks
The crustiest which recall pickled lox
Pledging allegiance to her feet, too true
Strong as when morning whistles go "Woo-woo!"
Without Megan's feet we all tend to grump
Emptying angry bowels, a protest dump
Wilting without them, I'm Tubercular,
From the floor her nails appear circular
Please kick and stomp me, Megan, be Livid
Beam not your smile, look cruelly frigid
Kick boots up into my perineum
Femdom power is not an idiom
Bruising and fluids inflame away jiggly
Boxing and bruising my sack like a peach
Ceased before a laceration might breach
Sacramental kicks to spite my drippy sobs
Purged of wayward thoughts of vagene and bobs
Prayers to Goddess for thine ultimate deal
Giantess Megan's urethral vore meal

>>13213013

bump

How would you describe to the grant-rewarding committee your future work?