thenaughtyhousewifepics:

My little brother asked to see her new piercing

“Did it have to be that…revealing?! It’s just your belly button.”

Well you can’t really appreciate it without context. If I sent a close-up, it could be anyone’s navel piercing. I’m sure he’s seen one before. He wanted to see my piercing, not just a piercing. 

“I guess, but, I mean, your boobs were even hanging out!”

Don’t be so jealous. It’s not a good look. Besides, if I show cleavage people see way more of the tops of my boobs. Your younger brother has witnessed that tons of times. The bottoms of my breasts are not more sacred just because they see less sunlight.

“I’m not sure I agr-”

Plus it’s a sexist double standard! I see your little brother flaunting his whole, muscular chest any time he comes by to use the pool. It’s not any less hot, trust me. But society says one is okay and one is not!

“I’m sorry! I don’t mean to be sexist. I just- like, why pull down your pants?”

To show the line of my hip, duh! I want a picture of how this piercing looks on my body. God, you are so dense. Oh! He wants to come over for dinner and to use the pool. I’m going to change into that new bikini you got me. Yes, the sexy one that’s way more revealing than that photo I sent. Yes, I know you meant it to be worn in private. But I need to break you of this jealousy streak. If you’re like this with your young brother imagine what you’ll be like in front of age-appropriate men? Now go and start making us dinner, okay?

[Next]

ministryofsluts:

You’ve accepted it, now show your friends what it means to be a woman

I had always been really disgusted with girls who let their boyfriends walk all over them. 

“Men are trash! Girls deserve better. Don’t let any man tell you what to do or wear, ever!” 

I was berating my friend Rina after she told me her boyfriend didn’t want her going out in her sexy zero-suit Samus outfit. She acted sheepish but also very annoyed. 

“Not all of us can be stone-cold ice queens, Ali! And I know it seems dumb to you, but it can be nice to have a guy who cares enough to be protective of you. I don’t always like it, but usually when he tells me what to do, I just feel warm, knowing he loves me. And it can be a relief to not always have to fight…to not always have to think.”

“Not think!?” I was furious. “You better think or men will enslave you and call it kindness.”

Weeks later, I was in a sexy dress, waiting for a blind date Rina had set up. I know, I know. But she hadn’t spoken to me for a long time and had practically begged me to go out with this guy, Rahm. She said he was exactly what I needed. I had been lonely…not to mention sex starved. I agreed. Rina got the biggest grin on her face – almost maniacal, really – and hugged me. So here I was, wearing the skimpy halter dress she had foisted on me. It slit open at the center of my chest so I couldn’t even wear a bra! I’d tried to refuse but she’d already told him I’d be wearing it so he could recognize me. Bluh. I wanted to run away from the restaurant. This was dumb. Besides, he was 10 minutes late! What a jerk!

Five more minutes later…

“Ali. You waited. Good.”

Really? Not even an apology?! Rahm was cute, at least. Nice clothes, too. No fashion-challenged slob here, unlike most men. I decided to give him one more chance.

When the waitress came back Rahm ordered first. Steak, rare. Then he ordered salmon and salad for me. LOL. What kind of moron alpha male trick was this?

“Thanks, but I’ll take the swiss burger with fries, actually.”

He gave the waitress a meaningful look She scurried away. Weird. But we chatted for a while and it was pleasant. He didn’t ask me much about myself but at least he was an interesting guy. Intelligent, too. I was a little impressed. 

The room was so cold, though. I wondered how obvious my erect nipple were under the thin fabric of Rina’s dress. This thought sent a thrill through my body that did nothing to help the situation.

Then our food came. Steak…and salmon.

“This isn’t what I ordered!”

“Oh, um, but the gentleman. I mean, should I-”

“It’s fine, darling. Don’t fret your pretty little head. We don’t want to waste this good food. Isn’t that right, Ali?”

I couldn’t really argue with that. I hated it but he made sense; I despised all the food waste in the US. “Yes, I’m sorry, it looks very good.” The nervous waitress left us alone.

“No need to distress the help, Ali. Besides, you’ll like the salmon. I wouldn’t have ordered it for you if it wasn’t good.”

I guess that made sense, too. I never ate fish and assumed I didn’t like it, but shouldn’t I at least give it a chance? How did Rahm keep saying and doing so many things I disapproved of while I just kept conceding? My brain felt…fogged, around him, warm. I started eating the salmon. It was…actually really good. And I felt so much better and more energized eating a side salad instead of a ton of fries, which always left me feeling heavy and sluggish. I hated to admit it, but-

“Thank you for making me try this. I never would have given it a chance if you hadn’t been so forceful.”

“Of course. I find a forceful hand is best when guiding errant girls.”

“Ha!” I laughed aloud. Why did I feel so good? Why did I find Rahm so funny? Sure, he was smart and attractive and charming, but wasn’t something off?

I never open my legs for a guy on the first date! I told Rahm that as I stood in his bedroom, passively letting him turn me around, untie the strap of my dress, pull the fabric down, expose my breasts…

“I would never dream of asking you to compromise your principles. Ali. But I do need to get that dress back. Rina made me swear to reclaim it as soon as possible. She’d be very cross if I failed to do so.”

“But!” I gasped as Rahm slid the dress down my legs, leaving me in just black lace panties and heels. I didn’t even try to cover myself with my arms. It seemed wrong to hide what this man had uncovered. “W-what will I wear home?”

“Rina is coming for the dress in the morning. I’ll ask her to bring you a change of clothes, too. Do you mind waiting?”

“N-no, I guess that’s fine.” I stuttered, looking down and away. What else could I do, get in an Uber naked? Not that the thought wasn’t a little thrilling… What the hell was my deal tonight?! Also, I, found myself not wanting to leave Rahm’s apartment at all…

“Good. Now get down on your knees. You can keep your legs together, don’t worry. You need to learn how to give me a blow job before I consider fucking you, anyway. Got it?”

“Yes.” I replied, lowering to my knees instinctively. 

“Yes, what?”

“Yes…sir.”

“Good girl.”

The next morning Rahm made me answer the door when Rina knocked. I still had my panties on, but that was it besides my mussed hair and the dried cum on my face (and on my chest, I suddenly remembered with a twinge). I was mortified but I also found I couldn’t disobey this man. Rina smirked evilly while handing me the change of clothes and taking her dress back.

“Well, well, not the high and mighty ice queen anymore, are we? I set you up on one date with the most dominant, misogynistic man I knew and here you are just hours later.” She reached out her right hand and caressed my cheek. Feeling the crusted cum, she retracted her fingers and sniffed them, smiling. “I see Rahm was able to train you just as he said he would. I must admit I wasn’t sure even he could make you bow so quickly. You know they call him the Feminist Breaker? Quite a track record. I shouldn’t have doubted he’d draw out the submissive slut in you.” Rina rested her fingers on my cheek again and slid them down my neck, to my chest, over the curve of a breast and finally pausing to casually play with my hardening nipple. “Welcome to the club. Now I must get back to my man. He has no idea the sort of ‘help’ you needed. I think you should probably go and attend to your man as well, don’t you?” I nodded, dumbly. “Good girl.”

I saw Rahm often over the next several months. After a few weeks of blow jobs and hand jobs, he even let me open my legs for him. After I begged him for it, that is. 

He also told me if I was good I could eventually help him train other girls to be his fuck toys. I liked that idea a lot. I was so much happier after learning my place: beneath dominant men. I wanted to share my revelation. 

So imagine my joy when he told me I’d get to help him break my old friend Rina and defile her until her jealous boyfriend didn’t want her anymore?

see part one

It had been a year since the Halloween party where your brutish coworker had dressed as Boba Fett and preyed on your girlfriend’s intense dedication to staying in cosplay character. He convinced Slave Leia that her terrorist actions against a sovereign ruler of the former Republic, Jaba the Hutt, could sink the rebellion’s credibility. If the rebels took out sovereign rulers over personal vendettas, could they really be trusted as the torch bearers of democracy? So your girlfriend had agreed to go off with your bully, to an empty bedroom, and begin “proper slave training.” Beaten down by your coworker and told by your girl that, as Han Solo, you were too weak and blind from carbonite hibernation sickness to save her, you sat in the living room, miserable and anxious. You wondered what they were doing and drank yourself into unconsciousness. In the morning your girlfriend woke you up and made you drive her home. 

Since then, you had both mostly pretended it didn’t happen. The one talk had been brief. “I’m sorry I got carried away, baby! You know how I am about staying in character! Besides, he just like made me dance and follow commands. Mostly getting him drinks. Being his footstool while he watched TV was the worst of it.” “Um, what kind of dances?” “Nothing! Just like cage dancer stuff. I didn’t strip! I mean, I did sorta give him a lap-dance…But! I told him he had to follow club rules: no touching the girls; they touch you, not vice versa.” You weren’t quite sure that was better but chose to be willfully ignorant and to believe in your girlfriend as hard as you could. You adored her and thinking on your doubts hurt.

She began going to more conventions than ever before. She’d always put a lot of effort into her characters and costumes, engaging in various LARPs and narrative improvs. Usually as a badass female warrior from fantasy or scifi. Nothing too femme or revealing. Yet now all of her costumes were skimpy and she seemed to have singled out every fictional slave girl character, from Star Trek to Mad Max to Elder Scrolls to Gor. You used to go with her when work permitted but now you couldn’t bear it, making weak excuses. She didn’t push you hard to change your mind.

You coworker, “Boba,” wasn’t nearly as reticent about the subject of the party. The next work day after that fateful Halloween party he had come right up to your desk and thanked you for telling him all about your girlfriend’s hot costume idea. “Without you I never would have tried this silly LARP stuff you nerds are always going on about. It was dumb but I can’t say it wasn’t fun. Your girlfriend was really dedicated to her part. Got down on her knees like a real slave and went to work, you know? And it wouldn’t have been possible without your cowardly, weakened Solo. Props, man!” Your only advantage over your bully coworker had been the girlfriend he lusted after and couldn’t have. Then you’d foolishly bragged and gave him the last advantage. You felt so dispirited that when he asked to have you reassigned under him, you didn’t argue. Occasionally he sent you home with a gift “for the Missus.” A few were the new slave costumes she’d go on to wear. All contained long notes she didn’t let you see. Sometimes your new boss was out on work trips the same weekends your girlfriend was at conventions. Weird coincidences, surely.

Friends tried to get you to break up with your girlfriend but you wouldn’t hear them. Nothing was wrong. Eventually your bestie couldn’t take it anymore and made you sit down and click through a gallery he’d compiled. It had posts and photos from various convention message boards. At first you just saw your girlfriend in her barely-there slave outfits. You’d seen that. Maybe not while being hugged so tight by other cosplayers and sweaty nerds, but whatever. She was good at what she did. Screenshots of her posts showed her building up her characters and looking for “slave trainers” and “slave owners” to play with. That made sense, too, really. You couldn’t be a slave by yourself. Cryptic references to how “Master” wanted her trained properly were just artistic flourishes, probably. More photos now showed her holding a sign saying “Train Me! Will work 4 orders.” And other cosplayers holding her leash while she leaned against them devotedly or kneeled at their feet. Some of the men looked a bit like your boss but they wore masks. Those made you feel weird. Surely it was paranoia, though, right? Another photo showed her beaming as various men and women wrote on her exposed skin in sharpie. Clicking through you saw “grope me” on her lower back, “cosplay = consent” on her stomach and “dumb slave” on her forehead. She looked so happy.

“You know, I get that it seems bad. I appreciate that you care, I do, but I love and trust my girlfriend. It’s just roleplay. Fantasy isn’t cheating.”

Your bestie left in disgust. You got a buzz on your phone. Bully boss wanted you to work late again, on Halloween. You sighed and texted your girlfriend that you’d have to be very late to the party. She said it was okay. Such a sweetie. 

When 5PM rolled around on the 31st and Slave Leia showed in your office, you were confused but delighted. “Hey there Baby! I told you I have to work late. I’m so glad to see you, though! Wait…weren’t we going as

Hephaestus and Venus?” Your girlfriend bit her lip nervously and looked down. “Well, I mean, you couldn’t make it until who knows when…and I got a different offer…and you know I love having someone to LARP with, right?”

That’s when your boss emerged from his office, dressed as Boba Fett again, helmet in hand. “Slave! Do not speak to the riffraff unless I say you can.” “I’m so sorry, Master Fett! It won’t happen again! I’ve been training so hard to be a good slave. Please don’t tell Jabba!” He grabbed her chain leash, jerking it hard. “Hmph, we will see how trained you are. Though I do hope you have some Princess left in you for me to break.” She cooed. “And you, minion! Check that work in triplicate. Make a single mistake and there’ll be hell to pay. You may come watch me in action once you are done. Understood? Good. Now slave, show me your pleasure that I deign to be seen with you.” Your girlfriend went on tiptoe and you watched in horror as she kissed your bully deeply, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning her nearly naked body fully against his.

impotentcollectionlove:

The stupid part had been bragging to your bully of a coworker how your hot girlfriend was going to dress as the ultimate male fantasy. But the insufferable jerk was always one step ahead of you. Always getting the praise, the promotions. The only thing you seemed to have that he didn’t was a very sexy girlfriend. It annoyed you that he hit on her whenever she came by. And that she giggled a bit too much when he did so. Still, his unfulfilled desire for your girl was perhaps the one thing that gave you power over him. 

So you bragged and said she’d be slave Leia and you’d be her dashing Han Solo. He didn’t seem as jealous as you’d like. In fact, he grinned. But whatever, you had the supreme sex symbol and he didn’t. You walked away feeling like a winner.

Thus it came as a shock when he showed up at the party as Boba Fett and told your ‘Leia’ he was here to claim her as a runaway slave. He took hold of her leash as if it was his right. Your girlfriend blushed. Fuck! Was she just going to go for this?

“Screw yourself, bounty hunter! I am a Princess and Diplomat. You have no authority over me,” she spat at him. Thank god! She had you worried.

“Princess Leia, you are a known traitor to the Empire and have been stripped of all rank. You are mine to take as I please,” responded ‘Boba,’ jerking her leash, causing her to gasp and take an involuntary step. What an ass! You were about to step in when-

“The Rebellion doesn’t recognize the authority of this unlawful empire or its unscrupulous lapdogs, Boba!” she yelled, full of vitriol. Jesus! Your girlfriend was really into this roleplay. At least it felt good to watch her tear into your bully for once instead of cooing at his flirtations.

“Ahh, we must all bend-” he said, leaning toward your girl and pulling her leash so her head came down and towards his, “before the law. Don’t you agree?” She was blushing deeper and looking so intently at him. Fuck!

“Of course you do. Even your little rebellion rests upon the authority of the old republic and its democratic senate. Isn’t that right?” Your girlfriend was practically panting. She looked entranced by him.

Keep reading

From last year.