Toy

“You like it,” she says, her smile is insufferable.

Even though I do not like it, I must admit I fucking love that grin on her face. Her eyes twinkle, her cheeks get pink, that child-like giddy joy… all from bugging me.

It’s one of the forms her sadistic side takes, and it’s obnoxious. She teases me, pokes me, tugs my hair, I roll my eyes. It’s all very grade-school irritating. I had so many annoying uncles who would shake me up when I was a kid, this energy makes me feel antagonized. I call it bratty, she hates that word, she says she can’t help it, she likes to get a rise out of me.

“What about it do you like?” I’m trying to figure out how to make this work for us, it’s an impulse she enjoys, and maybe looking at it from a different angle can fit better with our dynamic.

“The faces you make. The shocked offended one, the annoyed one, the irritated fed-up one, the pouty one, the one where I’ve pushed too far. I like your reactions when I bug you. Pulling them out of you. Getting you fired up.” She’s a little sheepish when she talks about it, it’s adorable.

She asks me if there’s a part of it I do like. I think for a moment. “I like when I tell you to cut it out and you tell me you’re not done yet. Or when you tell me it’s over when you say it’s over. When you tell me to stop fighting it. Your voice is always stern and kind of threatening. It makes everything in my head go still.” She brushes my hair out of my face while I answer her, she’s so tender with me.

We agree the the hottest moment for both of us is always some form of ‘I say no and she does it anyway.’ Those moments are always the most electric, where the air feels thick and buzzy. Those are the moments that are seared into my brain, moments that get my heart stuck in my throat, moments I think about when my fingers are wet and rubbing my clit alone in the dark later.

I love these conversations, explorations into our deep impulses, collecting data, honing in on the the overlap between what lights me up and what lights her up, calibrating precisely how to exploit that intersection.

“I like getting you going,” she says thoughtfully. “When I’m being a bug like that it’s like you’re my toy. I’m playing with you for my entertainment.” I kept thinking if we dug deep enough we would find a way for this dynamic to be hot for me too, and there it was. Her toy.

I swallow hard. “I want to be your toy,” I nod, my eyes wide.

She grabs my chin and her voice turns condescending, “My good little doll. And I get to play with you however I want. You’re like the Sassy Brunette Friend model you know?” And before I could get ahead of it that irritated fury rushed through my veins, and I reacted, “I am NOT the sassy brunette friend, what kind of thing is that to say???” I pout and push her away.

“Awwwww, my poor little dolly, she doesn’t like it…” and just like that the whole fucking game had more context.