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Its Always in the Blood.

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Summary: In moments of hightend emotional stress things are known to bloom. Relationships, and X-genes.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Marvel Universe > X-Men > Xander-CenteredMagnusXXNFR2115,4324228,29025 Jan 0625 Jan 06Yes

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Author: MagnusXXN
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this story. BtVS & Angel belong to Joss Whedon, The X-men and the concept of mutants belong to Marvel.
Setting: Mid-third season of BtVS.
Version: Stand-alone.

Its Always in the Blood.

X: "So, what's the plan? We saddle up, right?"
B: "There's no 'we', okay? I'm the Slayer, and you're not."
X: "I knew you'd throw that back in my face."
B: "Xander, this is deeply dangerous."
X: "I'm inadequate. That's fine. I'm less than a man."
(Xander Harris & Buffy Summers, BtVS "The Harvest." 1x02.)

"You still don't get it. It's not about right, not about wrong.....it's about power."
(The First, BtVS "Lessons." 7x01)

"I am what I am. Someone has to be."
(Reynald de Chatillon, "Kingdom of Heaven."

Sunnydale, California. 1999.

"I could do anything to you right now, and you want me to. I can make you scream," she tells him breathlessly. Despite her petite frame, she is easily able to subdue the larger man and pin him to the bed. Her hands roam his chest, only slowing to pinch his left nipple playfully before ending their journey at his throat.

"I could make you die." Those same hands now close around his throat, eyes closing for a moment almost as if she's debating with herself. Before long her dark eyes open once again, as her fingers tighten.

In a feeble attempt to free himself, his fists pound on her sides. His hands grab hold of her shoulders, hopelessly trying to pry her off of his body even as his vision begins to fall him and his body goes numb.

Brown eyes lock on brown eyes, both holding a handful of expressions in their dark orbs. Hers are filled with self disgust, horror, lust, and a twisted gleam of freedom. His share the same amount of horror but for obviously different reasons, and with it come shame, mindless rage, and a dark purpose born of despair.

What they both expect is that last gasp of breath, that last tightened grip on her shoulders before he blessedly falls into unconsciousness and then death.

Instead there is a new level of defiance now in his gaze, a inner fierceness that is more suited for an animal than a man now shines through. Instinctively, his hands abandon their place on her shoulders and reach up, grasping either side of her face.

And for them both, their minds seem to explode in searing white hot pain and a shared intelligence brings together for but a moment.

Horrors pass between them: A look into the cruelty of the average human. The monsters in their pasts, both demonic and everyday. Now they lock together in one all-connecting force, laying their very souls at each others' feet.

Strength flows through his arms now, liquid fire through his very veins, doing so even as her hands now release his throat and in a mindless fit curl into fists and smash down on his face and chest with all her supernatural strength.

But each time as they reach her target, they lose all momentum, brushing against his torso and face like the soft exhale of a baby's first sneeze. He can only smile morbidly as the considerable amount of power from each punch seems to flow right through him.

By the 10th punch, his whole body sings with the stolen power. Her 11th and 12th punches are blocked, each fist actually caught in his own palms and with a sickening crunch he squeezes those tiny feminine fists until bones broke, now utilizing a strength far exceeding her own.

"My turn." He says harshly, throat still tender.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea, hurting someone just because they hurt you. Maybe. But maybe it's time for him to play the bad guy.

For a few seconds all he does is glare into her confused eyes. Now taking advantage of the fact that at the moment, her body is trapped above his. Her hands are injured and useless, they'll do her no good even if they weren't still entrapped by his vice-like grip.

Pain. Fear. Disgust. Hate. Lust.

Xander's still dizzy from the impact of those themes, still circling through his mind in flashes. Like a television on the fritz, only showing you the picture every other minute. The rest nothing but snow.

Grining darkly, he takes Faith's fists and pulls them outwards towards either side of the room, away from their bodies.

They move with a palpable ease. And she can't hide her shock at this, not wanting to admit that her strength is failing her.

His eyes flash with a perverse pleasure at her dismay. At this chance to show her that for once, he isn't weak.

Words are bouncing off his head, repelled by some invisible force, even though he doesn't understand where these voices are coming from.

All but one, he can recognise one. And its coming from the girl above him, she screams at him even as her mouth remains closed.

"How the shit are you doing this?" She demands, her arms held far apart with a childlike ease. Instead of answering her, he gives her another demonstration. With their arms wide, he can now lift his legs from under her, then between them, and wraps them around her waist.

Now utilizing a decent amount of agility, his legs pull her backwards onto the bedspread. Even as their momentum pulls Xander on top of her. Now she's the one trapped under him, at his mercy.

Or lack thereof.

Growling unintellegibly, Faith struggles for a few moments. Attempting to lean over enough to bite his wrists, or headbutt his smirking face only meters away, but being able to do neither, she stills. He can almst see the wheels turning in her mind.

Like his new found strength, he decides to ignore this strange turn of events until a later date.

Deciding to change her strategy, she pouts up at him with what she intends to be a lustful display of her lips. Thrusting her pelvis against his, she easily deduces his erotic pleasure in their new position. But despite what her body's telling him, her minds saying something altogether different.

Her stark terror at this turn of events, her almost animal fear at being trapped. Even more so because she's trapped like this.

The lushesness of her body beneath him is tactile, but that mental terror drums into him. And even more so, the very room around them seems to echo with her
fear. It takes a herculean act of will not to drown in it.

"All this time you been playin' the faithful doughnut-boy, while hiding some superpowers from B and the rest?" She tut-tut-tut's at him in mock-disappointment, while filing this away to exploit at a later time.

"Ah, but then the question they gonna ask is, where did you get this strength? Haven't sold anything important have ya?" She asks coolly, looking for an advantage.

"Like I don't know, your soul perhaps?"

The questions invokes a line of thought Xander isn't willing to explore at the moment. And he hides away such fear, making sure it doesn't touch his face.

"And where'd your power come from Faith?" His voice sounds harsh to his ears, but the soreness of his throat has already passed. "I think your actions, more than mine, speak of a lack of soul."

He tries not to grin in victory, knowing that from the ping her mind gave him that he'd hit a nerve. But even now shes not going to let that slow her down.

"Or maybe you just really wanted to be on top, boytoy." She grinds her pelvis against his again, pointing out his obvious reaction to her body. "Ahh baby, if you really wanted to dominate lil old me, all ya needed to do was ask."

Refusing to feel guilty for his bodys reaction, or let her get the upper hand he decided to play along.

"Ahh, if I'd known that maybe I'd have been gentler. But then again, maybe I wouldn't." He thrust forward taking her by surprize, and felt her mind's reaction war between fear, lust, and disgust.

Hate. Need. Pain. Lust. Release.

Her mind is a dark place, and he starts to believe he could get lost in the murky depths. Her fear of being dominated is at war with her need for physical contact. Pain and lust are practically linked in her mind, one simply doesn't come without the other.

And the dark place in his own mind responds to that, making his already aching member even harder beneath its prison of denim.

Fear. Lust. Hate. Need. Aching.

Faith's body is responding to him as well, not even being consciously aware of her actions she was grinding her crotch against his. The dark nubs of flesh beneath her T-shirt are erect now. Her body is ready, even though her mind is still full of fear.

And he knows, knows deep in his soul that he could simply fuck her now and she'd beg for more. He knows that she'd cry out as her orgasm shook her body when they were done, just as he knows the sky is blue and the sun will shine.

He also knows this wouldn't do either of them any good. Not at the present time at least.

Because he knows that even after they vent their sexual frustrations on one another, drifted off to sleep after they've spent their lusts, that tomorrow morning they'll wake and the same problems that existed now would remain.

Nothing would be laid to rest. And what he'd come here to do wouldn't get done. And that was to help her. Because she definitely needs help.

He also knows that she'll never ask for help, or allow someone to do so. He'll need to almost force his help down her throat.

'Well if I must, I must,' Xander's mind replied silently.

"You're so scared you can't hardly think straight, can you Faith? Gonna try and lie back and fuck away your terror, its so plan I can read it all over your face."

Those dark brown eyes of hers are now clearly shouting her emotions, unable to mask her well guarded secret any longer which is even now multiplied with the uncertainty of just what was he going to do with this knowledge.

Not willing to leave anything to chance, she lashes out again trying desperately to score a hit. Anything to return her power to her, so that she can silence him now. Cover up her traitorous feelings with another corpse.

She isn't expecting him to headbutt her as she tries the exact same tactic, though like before the force she'd used to inflict damage is stolen and in fact turned back against her as Xander's head impacts her own, stunning her for a few moments.

Those few seconds are all he needs to release her stunned frame, and launch it to the left. She falls straight off the bed with so much force that her body continues to slide across the carpet and into the left-most wall of her shitty motel room.

"Ohhh, does the big bad slayer wanna prove how tough she is?" His words sting her with humiliation, even worse than the ease in which he casually threw her away. Face stark with a terrible rage she rushes towards him in a dead run.

'Ah well, spare the rod, spoil the child. Thats what my momma always said,' Xander thinks as he stands up from the bed and waits for her, blessedly free of

The speed in which she moves is a thing to sit back in awe of, as she runs towards him like an out-of-control train. But it's all to no avail. Hitting Xander is like walking into a foam mattress.

Faith isn't brought up short, like if she'd run into a wall of concrete, no. She's just suddenly no longer moving. Her legs buckle underneath her and she falls at his feet, even as her mind rails against this contravention of the laws of momentum.

And Xander, well it's as if nothing has transpired at all. His hair is the only thing that shows any different then before he walked into her room, and that's only because it has become ruffled from lying on her bed.

Then his knee lashes up with lightning speed, and she is once again thrown backwards into the wall. A bloody nose to add on to her bruised jaw, courtesy of the headbutt he gave her on the bed.

Rage. Pain. Awe. Lust. Envy.

His mind blisters with the scolding thoughts she is sending his way, catching him off guard.

Her anger and pain are understandable after what he's just done to her, and he dissmisses them as unimportant. But the rest he can use, and he needs to keep her off balance. He might be physically stronger then her, but he knows that he can't match her in fighting ability.

Better to keep her so pissed off that she doesn't realise that.

Her anger makes her forget any advanced martial arts she might know, and turns this into a down and dirty street brawl, which Xander knows he can hold his own in. Her every punch still loses its force, the power behind the blow when it reaches him. And he feels energy flow through him with each swing.

He lets her take out her frustrations for a little while, knowing that she can't hurt him and that anything she does seems to actually make him stronger by contrast. The power burns through him like fire, the violence seemingly emflaming his loins.

Having tired of her attacks, he delivers a punch to her stomach that takes the fight right out of her. And of course winding her.

"Stay still you fuck!" She shouts, her frustation apparently still alive and well as she lauches herself at him again. But he's moved out of her way this time, instead grabbing a fistfull of T-shirt and leather pants and spinning Faith around so that she runs headfirst into the front door of her motel room.

He's had enough of the tango, since it's not doing either of them any more good then if they had fucked on her bed. And it's definitely a lot more boring. Surging forward, he presses himself against her back, trapping her between him and the wooden door.

Reaching up with his left hand, Xander captures her injured fists within his palm and twists them back so that they're pinned in the small of her back. His grip locks them their as well as any pair of handcuffs.

Shame. Fear. Pain. Need. Surrender.

It takes him a moment to notice the muffled sound of her trying desperately to contain her sobs. All will to fight seems to have left her, and with it a great deal of her confidence.

"Big bad slayer, crying like a little girl. Guess that makes me the badass, and you the chump." He enjoys the reversal.

He can't help but that last jab at her self worth, still needing to hurt her like she'd hurt him. But it's almost over now.

"You.....you can't be doing this. You're not the slayer, you're nothing. You're not the slayer." He can hear this chanting through her mind.

Doubt. Self disgust. Pain. Fear. Anger.

"If I'm nothing, then what does that make you?" Leaning forward, he tilts his head over her shoulder so he can look her in the eyes. "I asked you a question Faith, if I'm nothing then what does that make you?"

"Fuck you, you self righteous asshole. I'm...I'm gonna cut your freakin head off and mount it on my damn wall when I'm through with you. You piece of shit!" She growls, not through yet.

"And here comes the name calling again, Faith. I kicked your ass. So if I'm nothing, that makes you less than nothing. If I'm shit, that makes you less than shit."

"Horseshit! You sold your soul, or..or you stole this power. You couldn't beat me on your own! You could never beat me."

"You just can't admit it to yourself, that I'm better than you." No longer able to help himself, he reaches with his right hand between her and the door and cups one of her breasts. Further proving the power he has over her. "I'm stronger."

Even if he has no idea how he got to be stronger.

"Stolen strength! You....you're....."

"Wherever it came from, it's mine now. Like you." It's like having to beat a dead horse. Instead of continuing the argument, Xander begain to thrust his crotch against her leather clad butt. Dry humping her against the wooden door she was leaning against.

Shame. Lust. Fear. Awe. Envy.

His right hand no longer willing to simply feel her through her t-shirt, it now crawls underneath her shirt and across her belly. She's not wearing a bra, which makes it all the more fulfilling to grope her.

The steady pace in which hes been grinding his denim clad hard-on into her backside increases, leaning forward again he captures her mouth with his own before she has a chance to protest. All conscious thought has left her as she allows her body to lead the way.

Now she returns the kiss with a savage need of her own, letting her tongue battle with his and now thrusting her leather-clad ass backwards to meet his own thrusts. Moaning into his mouth from the sweet fiction his jean-covered erection is producing every time it meets the crack of her ass.

Xander's left hand remains holding her broken fists behind Faith's back, his right finally releases her breasts and slides down between them to her fly. He lacks the dexterity needed to open her pants one handed, so he leans on his new find strength again and simply rips them away, freeing her crotch, which is now covered in nothing but a flimsy black G-string.

Sex won't serve his purpose, won't help his goal, and his goal is to help her. But he needs to hammer in the last nail to her coffin, needs to end any more fight in her tonight.

His own pants are easier, undoing his fly is simple enough. His erection springs free through the fly hole in his boxers and with a fine purpose, he thrusts the length of his hard member between her butt cheeks - not entering her, but creating a enjoying sensation for them both never-the-less.

Lust. Pain. Awe. Envy. Sorrow.

The first two thoughts, feelings, aren't new tonight and are expected. Her awe and envy are expected as well; feelings which Xander had been counting on. Knowing if there is one thing she can respect it's power, stolen or otherwise.

It's the last that surprises him. Something he didn't see coming. That deep engraved notion that that's all she is, a piece of fuckmeat. Something to be beaten down, abused at the whims of others.

Becoming the slayer hasn't erased that feeling. It has only gone under the surface, like a cancer it grew and bleed on all her other feelings until it stained her mind.

He could now see that as clear as day, and taking her now against this wall, and truthfully against her will would only strengthen that belief. The dark haired young man wanted to save her, but not at the risk of Faith's self worth. As little as there might be.

But then, fucking her isn't his plan.

During his musing and her rapid onslaught of thoughts trying to blast through his mind, his right hand has been stroking his member when it wasn't wedged between Faith's ass cheeks. As he'd planned, one last dig, one last little push to force her into realising who had the power here. Who could control her, and in fact help her.

Abandoning her hands, he reaches up and begins thrusting himself forcfully between her pert and tone butt. Never entering her, but using her flesh as an instrument of his own sexual pleasure never the less until the pressure within him finally explodes.

His orgasm is brilliant and full and paints Faith's back with his seed, which begins to make its way downword in streams. He gives her one last violent kiss, before taking a step back.

Without him supporting her any longer, the slayer falls to her knees against her door. Just now her mind begins to wrap itself around what has just happened, and she turns to him to find Xander grinning down at her darkly.

"I...you..., "she stutters, her mouth dry and tears prickling her eyes. "You used me." The image of a soiled and disregarded condom flashes through her mind, and through his by proximity.

Pain. Lust. Shame. Self disgust. Surrender.

"And before the night's over I'll probably do it again, but that doesn't change the fact that you 'needed' it." He doesn't tell her she deserved it, that goes pretty much without saying. "And thats not all you need."

He steps back towards her, expecting one of two things to happen: For Faith to lash out again, to try one last feeble attempt to kill him; Or for her to back away, despite the fact that she has no where to run, he thinks she might do just that.

But instead she sits there on her stained and cheap carpet, head bowed, the sticky remains of his lust still clinging to her back and butt.

She's ready to be used forther, expecting to be subjugated. Believing because past experiences have taught her that a guy wouldn't just stop because he'd cum on her. They didn't stop there, no, that was just a warm up.

Not what he had in mind, but close enough along the lines that he could use it. "You need someone to hold your leash."

Then he tries something he doesn't know if he can actually do, something he hasn't tried before now. But if he can pick up on what she was thinking, maybe he can send what 'he' is thinking.

He creates the mental image of her, beautiful, punished, naked at the end of his leash. But 'happy'! A twisted thing, cruel even, but needing to be done.

Her body flinches, and Xander knows she saw it, felt it. Good, that's good. Being able to show her what he is thinking will make things a lot easier. What the ends to all this would be, he had no idea.

"You're mine now Faith, I 'own' you." Again he pushes that image of her on the end of a leash, face bowed towards the ground, on all fours. But free, in a way, free because the chaos of choice has been taken out of her hands.

She doesn't need to worry about anything in this flash, this little mental picture. She doesn't need to be in control, doesn't need to decide anything because 'he' will do that for her. He will take the responsibility on his shoulders.

It's what she's been looking for her whole life. What children take for granted when they're little. That knowledge that their parents will feed them, cloth them, keep them safe. That someone else is watching over them.

Faith's childhood was robbed from her. Stolen by a mother who was more interested in getting drunk or scoring another hit. And by the long line of her mother's boyfriends who'd taken an extra special attention to the little girl.

He looks around her apartment. This little shitty hotel that was the only place she could afford, the only place she could lay her head down. It makes him sick.

"But I'll keep you safe. 'I'll' watch over you." More images now, him watching her back while she patroled, him making sure she ate enough, him buying her cloths. Him taking over where so many had come before and failed.

Doubt. Worry. Need. Hope. Awe.

For once nothing sexual or painful fills her mind now. Just the doubt that anyone would actual keep their word to her. That anyone would look after her, keep her safe. And need battered and bruised hope deep in her soul that she was wrong.

Only meters from her, Xander reaches down and pulls Faith to her feet. Her bottom half still naked and soiled, her top flimsy, her face is now caked with runny mascara.

At the moment this strength, his new power in his limbs is usless. He'll have to rely on the power of his mind, and Faith's own need for him to make the decision for her.

She's stubborn, willful, but scared and filled with a wariness that has no place in a teenage girl. Being her mother's punching bag, her step-father's fuckmeat, The Council's tool, and just another dreg of society, she'd turned away from any helping hand that was offered to her, always believing that no one gave without
expecting something in return. That she was better off without them, without help, relying on her self and her wits.

"You do what 'I' say, and their wont be any more problems." Xander grasps her mind, looks around, then brings up two images to show what he means:

The stake in her hand, plundging downward into that poor man's chest.

The disregard in the eyes of one of her mom's boyfriends as he uses her preteen body to slake his lusts.

Faith trembles underneath his hands, caught between the horrors in her mind. Even if she says yes, even if she hands over her very freedom to him, he's not sure what to do with it. Taking possession of a person isn't the same thing as a pet.

And there's no way he's going to treat her like his 'daughter.'

"Your the boss."

"Get cleaned up and get dressed," he looks around the hotel room again, before coming to a decision. "And pack up your shit, we're leaving in ten minutes."

He releases her, and as instructed Faith goes about doing just that. First to the bathroom to clean herself off, then to her clothes to pack and put on a new pair of pants.

She couldn't live here anymore, hell no one should live here. And Xander isn't willing to go home when he doesn't know what kind of freak he is right now, and taking Faith home to meet his parents is simply out of the question.

But he has some money saved up, more then enough if he skims off the surface of his road trip cash. They can get an apartment, a 'good' apartment, and then he can decide what to do later.

This new submissive Faith is a strange turn, seeing her quiet and reserved is almost shocking in contrast to her normal loud and brazen attitude.

Hope. Relief. Need. Apprehension. Surrender.

Her minds reworking itself, dismissing other people in her life that she'd hoped could help her. Buffy, Giles, even Wesley, they'd been on her list of 'maybes'. Of people that she couldn't trust per se, but that she might be able to get something out of safely.

Sad he wasn't even on the list, but that doesn't matter now. All her battered hopes, her crushed dreams, they've all been pinned on his back. She'll rise or fall by his actions. It's a heady feeling, and Xander hopes he's up to the job.

But there's not really anyone else.

Turning away from his inner workings and hers, he looks outside of the mind at what Faith is doing now. He really hadn't noticed she owned so very
little, just three t-shirts, some underwear, the dress she wore when Buffy and Cordy were trying to become Miss Sunnydale High.

And two pairs of pants, he feels bad about ruining her other pair for a moment but that quickly passes. The demonstration served its perpose, and he can't honestly say he didn't enjoy the sexual thrill that followed either.

She's looking at him, or trying to do so without catching his attention. She's almost murdered him tonight, almost fucked him, almost 'been' fucked by him, and now she's handed her life away to him after a few bruises, some unkind words, and some bodily fluids.

When shes finishes she stands a few feet from him, beside the bed with her clothes safely slung over her shoulder in an old backpack. Defeat radiates off every pore of her body, her brown eyes filled with unshed tears.

"I....I didn't mean to be bad." She mutters. This isn't the normal confession you'd receive from a murderer, but the guilty admission of a scared little girl. And this is why he wants to save her. Because deep down, there 'is' something to be saved.

"But you were bad, Faith. But thats all over now, you hear me? I'll keep you in line." This would be patronizing if it wasn't for the fact that that's exactly what he plans on doing.

He can feel her thankfullness in his mind, can roll it around in his mouth like it was tactile. How broken is she, to be thankful for slavery?

"I'll be good." And that's that. She looks down in submission, knowing exactly that that's what she's doing. Xander told her that he'd make the decisions now, and she's so grateful to have that weight taken off her shoulders. To know that someone will decide for her.

That as long as she does as she's told, that she won't be bad. As long as there's someone looking over her, she wont go hungry, she won't sleep in the gutter. Her life is in his hands now, her body, her soul; it's all his now.

"It hurts, what you did, what's been done to you. Your whole world was pain, and fear, and shame. But thats all over, alright? You killed a man, but it won't happen again, 'I' won't let it. You've been abused, but that won't happen again, 'I' won't let it. Follow my lead and I'll make it all better."

Faith nods, believing every word because she can't go on like this.

"I'll follow," she says honestly, but there's still a little of the old Faith still lurking. "Never was one for whips and leather, but I'm cool to be the sub to your top."

Grinning, Xander can't help himself either. "That's good. And I promise to make the safe word easy enough for you to remember it."

She's smiling now too, just a little bit. Face washed clean of her makeup, eyes a little puffy from crying, body bruised and in a few places broken, but if he was 100% honest with himself, she never looked more beautiful to him.

He takes her by the arm, and she cradles to him for support both physical and emotional. In her heart she still suspects he's going to use her up, and throw her away when he's done. But for now she's willing to let him.

It'll take time for him to 'fix' her life, get her to be able to at least stand on her on two feet again. That'll take time. But hes not going anywhere.

Now their worries are a little less then before, just have to find an apartment for tonight. Tomorrow they'll worry about how this new 'relationship' is going to work out.

And he'll have to figure out what he's gonna tell his friends. And how he got super powers out of nowhere, and what he's going to do about Faith. Being able to read someone's mind, doesn't mean he can fix it. Things are square between them for the moment.....

So of course this is the moment Angel decides to bust the door down, ready to 'save' the weak Xander from the big bad out of control slayer.

I made the telepathy easy to follow, I hope. And as the other power, those who know their X-men history should be able to point out the mutant who 'absorbs physical force to become stronger'. All those who can guess right email me, tell me who it is and who you'd like to Xander to be next time. The most votes for any single mutant will win.

I didn't make him know he was a mutant because, it annoys he when you read about a fic where Xander becomes a mutant and the gang doesn't understand that until the radio or tv 'just happens' to come on and talks about mutants.

The End

You have reached the end of "Its Always in the Blood.". This story is complete.

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Definición de fetish en inglés:

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Pronunciación: /ˈfɛtɪʃ/

1A form of sexual desire in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, item of clothing, part of the body, etc. a man with a fetish for surgical masks a foot fetish some may have fetishes, like dressing up in women’s clothes Victorian men developed fetishes focusing on feet, shoes, and boots
Más ejemplos en oraciones
  • At times, customers visited the clubs seeking gratification of certain fetishes such as the desire to interact with a dominant woman or to experience public humiliation or pain.
  • I couldn't care less about his consensual, adult sexual fetishes.
  • No, we're referring to that twilight world of bizarre fetishes and sexual practices.
fixation, sexual fixation, obsession, compulsion, mania;
weakness, fancy, taste, fascination, craze, fad;
French idée fixe
informal thing, hang-up
1.1An excessive and irrational devotion or commitment to a particular thing: men will never understand a woman’s fetish for shoes and handbags the western fetish for all things North African
Más ejemplos en oraciones
  • I love fighting big people and I always had a fetish for fighting big people.
  • He soon found out I had a fetish for chimneys and steeplejacks and his workshop were up a road with eight chimneys, like, and there were always someone mending one.
  • He was also an alcoholic drug abuser who had a fetish for firing guns at trespassers and blowing up high explosives for the fun of it.
2An inanimate object worshipped for its supposed magical powers or because it is considered to be inhabited by a spirit.
Oraciones de ejemplo
  • Lesser priests and priestesses serve the shrines of fetishes, minor spirits, and focus on cures and magic charms.
  • When his mother sold him to white men, she told him to thank and worship the fetishes, objects believed to have magical powers by primitive people, because they will make him happy.
  • Do I feel the thing that relics, totems, and fetishes are supposed to make people feel?
juju, talisman, charm, amulet;
totem, icon, idol, image, effigy, doll, statue, figure, figurine
archaic periapt

Early 17th century (originally denoting an object used by the peoples of West Africa as an amulet or charm): from French fétiche, from Portuguese feitiço 'charm, sorcery' (originally an adjective meaning 'made by art'), from Latin facticius (see factitious).

  • Before its modern sense of ‘an obsession’ or ‘an unusual form of sexual desire’, a fetish was an object worshipped in West Africa for its supposed magical powers, or used as an amulet or charm. Early European visitors used the Portuguese word feitiço ‘charm, sorcery’ for it.

Palabras que riman con fetish

coquettish, pettish, wettish
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tagNovels and NovellasBen & Nancy Ch. 05

Ben & Nancy Ch. 05

byD.C. Roi©

Passion in James County XV: Ben and Nancy

Ben immediately recognized Dawn Dillon when the girl walked into his classroom for English composition class. His heart started to pound and his chest felt tight. "God! She looks just like her mother must have looked when she was in high school grade!" he thought when the slim, lovely teenager walked into the room, moved down the aisle between the desks, and took a seat.

The classroom full of students sat there, looking at him expectantly. Ben stood up, picked up the corrected essays, and walked around in front of his desk. "I'm Mr. Morris," he said. "I'm going to be teaching this class for the rest of the year. I know a few of your names from other classes where I've substituted, don't I, Mikey?" He glanced at a blushing Mikey Bacon, who was notorious for making mischief, while the class giggled.

"I have your essays graded," Ben continued. "I'll call your name, you raise your hand, and I'll give it to you. It's one way for me to get to know who you are."

After he handed the last student her essay, Ben started back toward the front of the classroom. "I have a question for you," he said. "Do you think an aberration of nature makes a person admirable?"

"What do you mean?" Mikey Bacon asked.

"I'm not being critical of any of you who said pro athletes were admirable," Ben said, "but take pro basketball players, for example. They are freaks of nature. The only reason they're successful at what they do is because they were born bigger and more coordinated than normal people. Why does that make them admirable?"

"Because they make lots of money?" Mikey asked hopefully.

Melissa Griggs raised her hand. Ben nodded in her direction. "Just because you have a lot of money doesn't make you admirable," she said, looking a bit smug.

"Yeah, but some pro basketball players do all kinds of good stuff," Ronny Wiggins said. "They give money to charity, go visit kids in the hospital, stuff like that, doesn't that make them, you know, admirable?"

"What about firefighters?" Annalise Mills, whose mother was a firefighter/paramedic asked. "They do good stuff for people every day."

Ben remained quiet, watching and listening, as the kids struggled with the question he'd asked them. His eyes scanned the class, but kept drifting to Dawn Dillon. "I can't believe how much she looks like her mother," he thought. "She has the same slim build, the same lovely eyes, and her hair's even the same color."

The kids kept the discussion going, making some good points. When conversation began lagging, Ben decided to see if he could get them looking at a different aspect. "Some of you picked people who weren't famous," he said. "Quite a few of the girls see their parents as admirable. Ginger, you made a good case for your mother, so did you Annalise. Dawn, you made a very eloquent case for your father, too. What do the rest of you think?"

The discussion took on new life as the kids struggled to try and figure out how someone who wasn't famous could be admirable.

When Ben realized there were just a few minutes left in the period, he called a halt to the discussion. "What I'd like you to do for next class," he said, "is to write a one-page essay on what qualities you believe make a person admirable."

The bell rang, the kids picked up their books, and started filing out of the room.

"Dawn, can I speak to you for a second?" Ben said when the girl neared his desk.

"Ah...sure, Mr. Morris," the young woman said, looking nervous.

"I just wanted to tell you I was touched by your essay," Ben said when the classroom was empty. "It made me feel as if I knew your father. I was sorry to hear about what happened to him. He'd have been very proud of you."

"Ah...thanks, Mr. Morris," the girl said, blushing. Clutching her books to her chest, she left the room.

During his free period, Ben went to the teacher's lounge. There, he encountered Tosha Brown, a slim, attractive black woman who taught history.

"How's your first day going?" Tosha asked him.

"So far, so good," Ben said. "Better than I thought it would, actually."

"You know," Tosha said, grinning, "a lot of the girls have decided you're a real hunk."

"Aw come on," Ben replied, feeling himself blush. He'd never thought of himself in those terms.

Tosha poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table across from Ben. "I understand you and Evelyn are an item," she said, holding her cup in both hands, sipping from it.

"I'm not an item with anybody," Ben said. "Evelyn and I have been seeing each other, but there aren't any commitments I'm aware of. At least I haven't made any."

Tosha peered at him over the rim of her cup, then lowered it. "Does that mean you'd come over to my place for dinner if I asked you?" she said softly.

Ben smiled at her. "I think I'd like that," he said. "Am I being asked?"

Tosha nodded, her brown eyes locked on his.

"When?" Ben asked. Tosha was quite attractive; an evening with her could turn out to be quite interesting.

"You doing anything tonight?" she asked softly.

Evelyn had told Ben she wouldn't be available tonight because, as a member of the teacher's union negotiating committee, she had to attend a school board meeting for negotiations on the new union contract. She said she expected the meeting to run very late. "Nothing much," Ben said.

Tosha smiled, displaying a mouth filled with even white teeth. "Dinner will be ready about six," she said. She picked up a piece of scrap paper and wrote something on it, then she pushed the paper across the table to Ben. "That's my address," she said.

At five-fifty-five, Ben knocked on the door of Tosha's apartment. She opened it, looking extremely attractive. She had on a ribbed white button-front cotton sweater and baggy jeans, cinched around her waist with a wide black belt with a silver buckle. The outfit highlighted her lithe body. Ben thought she looked terrific.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he said. "I like your outfit."

"Ah...thanks," Tosha replied, clearly pleased by his compliment. "Come in, dinner's almost ready."

She stepped back and Ben walked into the apartment. It was small, neat, and had been personalized with pictures and African art.

Tosha was acting a bit nervous. "Would...would you like coffee...or...or something?" she asked.

"You have a very nice apartment," Ben commented, looking around. The apartment was filled with the smell of their cooking dinner, but Ben found he wasn't all that hungry right then.

"Ah...thanks," Tosha said. She stood next to Ben in the small combination living room-dining room-kitchen looking as if she couldn't decide what to do next.

Ben decided to help. "Where's your coffee maker?" he asked. "I'll get some coffee started."

"It's over there, on the counter," Tosha said and gestured in that direction. "I keep the coffee in the refrigerator."

Ben found the materials and soon had coffee brewing while Tosha made herself comfortable on the sofa and watched. He looked over at her and she smiled. "This isn't the way it's supposed to be, is it?" she asked.

"What isn't?" Ben responded.

"You making coffee for me," Tosha said. "I mean, this is my place. And I did invite you here for dinner and..."

"I like it," Ben said. "Fussing over you makes me feel useful." That got him a smile. "I'm not the greatest cook in the world, but people tell me I do make a mean cup of coffee."

While the coffee maker worked, he sat down. Since the only seat available in the living room was the sofa Tosha was on, he had to sit next to her.

She tucked her legs under her and looked at him. "So what made you decide to become a teacher?" she asked.

Ben shrugged. "I'm not sure, exactly. It's just something I've always wanted to do," he said.

Tosha smiled. "I know, it was that way for me, too," she said. "I wanted to be a teacher from the first day I went to school."

Ben nodded. "I know exactly how you feel," he said. "Teaching is more than just a way to make a living, isn't it?"

Before Tosha could say anything else, Ben put his hand behind her head and urged her face toward his. She offered no resistance and their lips joined, sending hunger flooding through his body.

Tosha moaned softly into his mouth and moved against him, her arms sliding around his neck.

While the kiss lingered, Ben began to unbutton her sweater. When the buttons were open, he slid his hand under it and began stroking her silky-smooth belly.

Tosha made no effort to stop him, nor did she end the kiss. Instead, her tongue slid into his mouth and one of her hands began sliding over his pants, seeking his cock.

The kiss ended. Ben kissed her cheek, licked her ear, then his lips started moving down her neck.

Tosha kept fondling his cock through his pants, making it harder, causing lightning-bolts of pleasure to arc through him.

His hands continued to glide over her warm, smooth flesh, accompanied by Tosha's soft moans of joy. After a while, his kisses began moving downward. He felt the muscles of her stomach ripple as his lips and tongue caressed them. Tosha leaned against the back of the sofa, continuously uttering soft murmurs of delight. It was a wild new experience for Ben, who'd never made love to a black woman! He was as turned on as he could ever remember being!

From her belly, his lips traveled upward, once again journeying toward her breasts. He slid his hands around behind her and unhooked the clasp that held her lacy bra closed, baring what turned out one of the loveliest pairs of breasts he'd seen in a long time. They weren't big, but were perfectly conical. Small, enticing nipples jutted from small aureoles, which were a darker hue than the rest of her. Her breasts appeared almost painfully swollen.

When he began to lick and suck the swollen tips, mewls of delight gushed from Tosha and her hands fluttered, as if she wasn't sure what to do with them. Her body quivered and shook. He hadn't expected to get this far this fast, but since he was, he had no intention of halting until he'd gotten what he wanted.

Ben unfastened her belt, opened her pants, then he grasped her slacks and tugged them down. Tosha helped him as he exposed her lean legs. Now all she wore was a pair of lacy white bikinis which formed a stark contrast to her ebony skin.

He moved off the sofa and knelt beside it. Tosha stretched out, lifting one leg and draping it on the back of the sofa while Ben was still sucking her nipples. Her eyes were tightly closed and her body was quivering.

He slid his hand over the silken flesh covering one leg and cupped her middle. Tosha moaned, arched her back and her hips began to twist as he caressed her vagina through her panties. The wetness of her excitement had begun to soak through the sheer garment.

Ben kept caressing her damp gash and her hips rocked and twisted and her moans of joy got louder. He pushed the panties aside and touched her puffy labia.

Tosha began pulling at his arm. "Take me, Ben!!! Please!! I want you in me!" she murmured ardently.

When he heard her fervent request, Ben stood up, quickly got out of his clothes, and laid on top of Tosha's lean, black body. She slid her hand between them, gripped his cock, and guided it to her slick opening.

Ben felt his cock sinking into Tosha and thought he'd never been in anyone as tight! As wet as she was, his cock had to fight its way into her. For a minute, he wondered if she were a virgin, but as ecstasy rushed through him, pleasure became the only thing he could comprehend!

Tosha locked her legs behind Ben and forced her pelvis against him. Her eyes were shut, her neck muscles were corded, and her body strained against his. Suddenly, she exploded.

"Yeah!!! Oh, Lord!!! Oh, Lord!!!" she cried, her body twisting and turning wildly. "Give it to me, Ben!!! Harder!!! Oh, shit!!! Harder!!! Harder!!! Oh, shit!!! I'm...I'm coming!!! Fuckme-fuckme-fuckme-fuckme-fuckme-fuckme!!!!!"

The wild motions of Tosha's body sent a hurricane of delectable emotions swirling through Ben. It was so intense he had little control! His hips began beating a wild tattoo against hers. He drove against her, his passion rising, then supreme delight washed over him as he exploded.

"Gahhhhh!!!!!" he groaned as he erupted into her. It was as wonderful an orgasm as he could recall having in along, long time.

"That's it!!!" Tosha exulted when they finished, "That's what I been needing!!!"

Ben pulled out of her, then kneeling on the floor next to the sofa, he put his arms around her and looked at her. The white panties still encircled her middle and her ebony skin shone from sweat their exertions had brought out. He thought she was gorgeous.

He stood up, scooped her into his arms and started for the bedroom.

Tosha's arms slid around his neck and her face brushed his cheek. "What...what are you going to do to me now?" she asked hesitantly.

"You'll see," Ben told her as he carried her to her bedroom. "It will be wonderful!"

In the bedroom, he laid her on the bed, removed her panties, then he laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her, gently at first, but the kiss grew fervid and Tosha's arms stole around him as she molded her wondrous dusky body to his.

Ben's hands roamed the warm, smooth sable surface of her slim torso, stroking her everywhere he could reach. She moaned softly and her tongue lashed his.

The kiss, sweet as it was, ended, and Ben's lips moved to her neck, then onto her chest. Breath hissed from her and she rolled on her back, giving him better access to her breasts. He took his time, sucking the rigid tips, nibbling them to the accompaniment of sounds of elation.

"God, Ben, do I ever love the way you make me feel!" she purred. "Inviting you over was the best idea I ever had!" Her hand coasted over his back as he devoured her with his lips and tongue. "I've never felt this wild!"

As he kissed her breasts, Tosha's body began moving sinuously, driven by pleasure his lips, tongue, and hands evoked.

"Oh, Lordy!" she moaned, "What you're doing feels so incredible!" Her body twisted and turned as his hand slid between her slim legs and onto her pussy. "Oh!!!!" she groaned. Her hips rose off the bed as her back arched, "Oh, yeah, Ben, do that! That's wonderful! So wonderful!!"

Ben slid a finger into her snug opening, slick and slippery with the juices he'd spewed into it earlier and began thrusting gently. Tosha responded with the age-old motions of sex.

So far, the evening was going wonderfully for Ben. Tosha was as exciting as any woman he'd ever been with. He could see her passion growing by leaps and bounds. The more he caressed her, the more fervent were the sounds she made and her body moved even more frantically. He knew she was headed for release.

Ben took his lips from Tosha's hard-tipped breasts and began kissing his way across her concave belly. He could feel her belly ripple as his tongue lapped it. The fact that the skin he was kissing was dark made what he was doing more arousing than anything he could recall.

"Gahhhh!!!!" Tosha groaned, her body straining against his mouth. "Good Lord, Ben! You're making me crazy!!! That feels so damn good!!! It's wonderful!!! So wonderful!!!"

He kissed through her pubic hair, his tongue licking the opening his finger was thrusting into. Her hips rose, pressing her vagina against his face.

"Ohhhhhhh!!! Oh, Lord, Ben!!! Oh, Lord!!! Yesssssss!!!" she cried. "So good!!! So good!!!" Her hips twisted and her legs strained in response to the intense pleasure he was evoking in her.

Ben explored the upper rim of her slit with his tongue, seeking her clit, not finding it. When he licked the spot where it should have been, Tosha went wild!

"Ah!!! Too good!!! Too good!!! My Lord!!! Never, ever felt this goood!!!" she groaned, her back arching like a bow. "Lord!!! Oh, Lord!!! I can't stand it!!! I can't stand it!!! Feels too good!!! I...I...Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!" Her body stiffened, her fingers dug into his arm. "Gahhhh!!!! Gahhhhhhh!!!! Gahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" Screams of delight continued to pour from Tosha and her body remained arched, quivering, quaking, straining while Ben punished her with his lips and fingers. "Eeeeeeeeyahhhhhhhhhh!!!!" After her last, loud cry, Tosha went limp. Ben kissed her pussy one last time, pulled his finger out, and stretched out next to her.

Tosha lay there next to him, her chest rising and falling gently, her eyes closed, a smile on her face. After a few moments, she turned to face him, opened her pretty brown eyes, and smiled softly. "God! That was incredible!" she gushed, "Mr. Morris, you have a magic tongue!" She pressed against him and kissed him fervently. She chuckled. "The girls in school are right, you sure as hell are a hunk!"

What he'd just done to Tosha had revitalized Ben's cock. He could feel it pressing against her soft, smooth belly.

She slid a hand between them and gripped it. "Damn! You're hard again!" she exclaimed, looking startled. "I...I..."

"What's the matter, are you worn out?" Ben asked.

Tosha stroked his cock. "No way! Never! Take me!! Put that thing in me and make me feel like that again!" she implored.

"It would be my pleasure," Ben said. He began caressing her lovely ebony peaks once more.

Ben was turned on and Tosha seemed to be, too. His hands moved over her warm flesh and passion once again blossomed.

"Make love to me again, Ben!" Tosha moaned, her chest heaving, her hand clutching his cock. "I want you in me! I gotta have you again!"

Ben rolled on her side so her back was to him. He guided a lean, lovely leg over his, pulled her against him, then he reached over her hip and guided his cock into her. A shudder of ecstasy went through him as his rigid pole entered her incredibly snug channel once again.

"Damn, but you're big!" Tosha gasped, "Goddamn! I think you're in me all the way to my throat! Jesus!!!"

Ben began moving. His hand covered the spot where their bodies joined, found her clit, and began stroking it.

"Oh!!!!" Tosha groaned. Her body jolted and shook as Ben lunged against her. "So good!!! Feels so good!!! More!!! Do me more!!!!" Her hand covered his, urging him on.

Ben had to use every last bit of self-control he had to keep from coming, given the snug, rippling grip of her pussy. He kept thrusting into her and rubbing her clit. Before long, he felt her stiffen and her hand tightened on his.

"Now!!! Oh, Lord, Ben!!! Now!!! Yes!!!" Tosha cried. "Eeeeahhhhhhhhhh!!!! Now!!! Now!!!! I'm coming!!!! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckmeeee!!!!!" Tosha's body went into wracking spasms.

There was no longer any reason for Ben to hold back. He quivered and moaned as his pulsating cock spewed hot cream into the woman in his arms. "Take it!!! Take ittttttttt!!!" he yelled.

They were both so spent that they dozed off. Ben lay next to Tosha, musing that the evening had been far more satisfying than he expected it to be. And it didn't matter at all that he never did get to eat the dinner Tosha had cooked for him. "I guess I'll have to settle for breakfast instead," he thought, just before he dozed off.

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April 13, 2024

General Inside You


All articles tagged with "Domination"

Goddess Andova did not have a reason to shit on this guy but that did not stop her from doing it. She went ahead and did it without caring about what he felt. She needed to do it and that is all that mattered to her. It was all about her fun and she gave it priority over the feelings of the guy who had to eat her shit and lick her asshole.

This guy was a snitch and he had to be shown what is done to snitches like him. The mistresses organized a scat party specifically to torture him. He was lured to it and he did not know it was to specifically punish him. He was tortured with their shit as well as their pee and the scat princesses had the time of their life torturing him and he could not even help himself.

Mistress Jane did not have food to feed her slave. He consumed a lot of food but he had little to show for it. She was fed up with him and she had to punish him for it. She wanted to make him more hardworking. She took him to her torture chamber and she pooped to a bowl and she made him eat the shit. She also pissed and had him drink it.

Mistress Tina did not like how her boss was looking for a scapegoat to fire her. She did not want to be fired as she would lose her benefits. She opted to resign and immediately she had tendered her resignation, she called her friend princess Nikki and the two mistresses went to his office and they shit on him. They forced him to eat the shit and drink the pee.

Mistress Gaia came home and found her slave had not done what they had agreed was to be done. She did not want to go on talking. She just humiliated him and punished him for what he had done or rather not done. She had him eat her shit. She ensured her swallowed all of it and licked her ass by being her toilet paper. Then she let him go knowing he would never repeat his mistake.

This mistress had a party where she invited her friend. She had called them to come and enjoy the scat fetish that she had discovered. Being the leader of the group and revered there, the other mistresses came and enjoyed what she had found out. They had fun shitting on the slave and using him as their human toilet paper. The slave's stomach was filled with shit and he did not eat for a week.

Mistress Anna wanted to cut down her budget. She looked for ways to make savings and one of the way she identified was to cut back on food. So she decided to start that day. She was the only one who ate. When her slave demanded food, she made him eat her shit. She told him she had processed the food for him to eat and forced him to eat it.

Princess Nikki has a shit fetish. And whenever she can, she always makes her slave do what she wants which is usually to eat her shit. She does not do anything else to him like punish him using high heels or ballbust him. She only makes him eat her shit like she did today. He has eaten her shit so much that he has probably gotten used to it by now.

His mistresses shit monstrous piles on his face. He had no other chance than eating the biggest part, but though his stomach stores the most amount of their shit, there's still so much left that even is bigger than his head, although his mistresses plugged it deeper into his throat with their feet. It makes him addicted, even if he's sickened by their shit! It makes him feel like he has a part of deity running through his blood.

Princess Nikki is a mistress who likes to have fun whatever she feels that is. She found this mean old guy who was a pain in the ass of others and she sought to make him mellow a bit. So she invited him to her house and she made him eat her shit. She shit as he watched and then fed it to him with a spoon. He was humiliated and disgusted and mellowed like she wanted.

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The lure of a massage parlour depends on its promise of retreat and professional service. Envision strolling into a peaceful setting, ambient with soft lighting and a symphony of serene melodies. Here, proficiency meets custom, as therapists employ reliable methods to ease your weariness. Deep tissue, Swedish, hot stone, or aromatherapy massages-- select your escape, lie back, and unwind as qualified hands work their magic, leaving you deeply soothed and blissfully material.

Questions to Ponder Before You Select:

Before you grab your wallet and devote to a session, consider what you most prefer in a massage experience. Are you searching for pain relief, tension decrease, or maybe an unique touch to your regimen? Reflect on your choices, and guarantee the service aligns with your comfort level and expectations.

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Why Select Expert Massage Providers?

The benefits of professional massage services go beyond short lived relaxation. Routine sessions can enhance circulation, enhance joint mobility, reduce anxiety, and even bolster the body immune system. A well-executed massage can function as a reset button for your body's stress and your mind's clutter.

Making Your Choice: Safety, Quality, and Track record

As you move better to selecting a massage service, consider the importance of picking a trustworthy service provider. Consumer evaluations, word-of-mouth referrals, and professional credentials must direct your decision. Trustworthy parlours focus on cleanliness, use qualified therapists, and maintain a professional yet welcoming environment.

Discover Your Perfect Massage Match

With the web at your fingertips, researching the best massage service has actually never been easier. Visit websites, scroll through services, and look for special deals or membership programs that may tempt you further. Take note of galleries and reviews for real insight into what waits for.

Ready for Your Journey of Relaxation?

Are you at the edge of your seat, envisaging the profound relief and euphoria that a professional massage can deliver? Picture the minute-- a tranquil environment, a specialist touch, and all tension easing off under the care of capable hands. This isn't just a dream; it's a tangible, available high-end awaiting you to seize.

Seize the Minute-- Schedule Your Massage Today

Do not wait any longer; it's time to put yourself first and delight in the supreme relaxation experience. Choose up your phone or submit an online reservation form, and prepare for a transformative journey. It's not just about indulging-- it's about accepting self-care, reclaiming calm, and charging your life's battery.

Imagine emerging from your session restored, each muscle touched into tranquility, each believed eased into clarity. That is the transformative power of a top quality massage service. So why hesitate? Your mind and body deserve this gift of renewal. Take the next action and enable the experts to craft an extraordinary massage experience with their competent hands and intuitive touch. Your journey to serenity begins here. Book your session now and enjoy in the awareness that relaxation and restoration are not just remote dreams, but immediate possibilities.

Massages have actually stood the test of time as an efficient way to release the knots of daily life and rekindle one's vitality. From the beauties of Thai massage to the bewitching whispers of adult services, and the revered area within massage parlours, the choices are as diverse as the advantages are extensive. We invite you to let go of hesitation, grab your wallet with confidence, and devote to a financial investment that pays dividends in health and happiness. After all, worldwide of massage, every touch is a step towards a more well balanced, unwinded, and revitalized you.

A world of exceptional tranquility waits for. Will you enter it?

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    Posted on Apr 14, 2018

    12 Secrets That Someone With A Balloon Fetish Won't Tell You

    "Feeling the way the balloon is expanding and how the pressure is building and getting more intense makes me almost ache with pleasure."

    BuzzFeed / Nora Marleen

    The team at BuzzFeed Germany spoke to Maggy BerLoon (30) about her unique fetish. Maggy lives in the city of Solingen and has a sexual preoccupation with balloons. She sat down and explained just why that is and why we should all use balloons as sex toys.

    1. I enjoy the mere sight of balloons.

    "There's one thing that all balloon fetishists have in common: they love the sight of balloons. But not all of them are sexually aroused by the sight. Many people, including myself, need a little more action. Some experience pleasure, for example, when they're blowing up a balloon. Others like popping balloons and then there are others who only become aroused by physical contact with balloons and essentially use them as sex toys."

    2. Feeling the way the balloon is expanding and how the pressure is building and getting more intense makes me almost ache with pleasure.

    "Balloons fascinate me. If I sit on a balloon, the intense pressure and rubbing really turns me on. I'm attractive to how such a fragile and delicate object can handle so much pressure. On the one hand, balloons are smooth and soft, but then on the other, they're so firm and robust. That's awesome!

    A balloon nestles against your body and the latex feels warm and soft. The pressure builds and it gets so hard, before it pops, of course. When you sit on it, you feel this enormous pressure under you. It's always something of a thrill because you can't stop worrying about it popping. I really flip if my husband holds an uninflated balloon against my vagina and then blows it up with his mouth. Feeling the way the balloon is expanding and how the pressure is building and getting more intense makes me almost ache with pleasure."

    3. There are looners, poppers, non-poppers, and semi-poppers.

    "'Looner' is the broadest term that balloon fetishists use to describe themselves. People who like to pop the balloons are called 'poppers'. Then there are the people who don't like popping, some of whom even have a fear of loud noises (lygrophobia), who call themselves 'non-poppers'. And finally there are the 'semi-poppers'. They're somewhere in between."

    4. For me, a popping balloon is like a vibrator running out of batteries right while I'm in the middle of using it.

    "The topic of popping balloons is highly controversial in the community. The poppers find it really great and can even climax from it. Some don't even need to be actively involved, just watching it and the thought of the balloon popping is enough for them. For poppers, the B2P (blow to pop) and S2P (sit to pop) balloons are especially popular. For me, a popping balloon is like a vibrator running out of batteries right while I'm in the middle of using it. Not cool!"

    5. Every looner is different.

    "When I met my husband almost 12 years ago, he told me about his secret kink. He was afraid that I'd laugh at him and judge him or reject him because of it. But honestly, it's just balloons! That's how he opened up a diverse and playful new world for me. I had never heard about balloon fetishists before then. Now I don't ever want to have sex without using balloons as a sex toy. Despite not even knowing it was a fetish or ever having a single sexual thought about balloons like my husband, I became a looner in my own unique way.

    6. Not every looner is innately into balloons.

    "Because I only discovered my predilection for balloons later, I felt about the same way about balloons as I did streamers. They were fun to have around, but nothing more. For other looners, however, there's often an event (or several) in their childhood that triggered their fetish. For example, a balloon popping at a birthday party or at a school celebration."

    7. My favorite sex position is on the balloon, lying on my belly, taking it from behind.

    "For me, the sexiest position is if I lie on a zeppelin balloon and my husband takes me from behind. Our movements cause the balloon to pulsate and returns every thrust with even more strength. Just imagine stretching a rubber band apart. It feels similar if you have sex on a balloon. That, combined with the building pressure and the rubbing of the balloon, is really sexy."

    BuzzFeed / Nora Marleen

    8. Zeppelin balloons are frightening the first time.

    "My first time was funny but very exciting at the same time. To be honest, I found the situation surreal. I mean, I really had absolutely no idea what would happen next. I was only ever aware of those cheap balloons from the supermarket around the corner and didn't know there were such awesome balloons out there in the world! They come in all shapes and sizes – there are balloons which are made just for sitting on and having sex on.

    When my husband brought out his balloon collection and I first witnessed his giant balloons, it was pretty overwhelming and a bit frightening too. I'll just say, it's not that easy to keep your balance on such a giant balloon when you're a beginner."

    9. Speaking openly about the fetish is unfortunately still often a taboo.

    "I love my parents and have a pretty good relationship with them, but they're pretty conservative and uptight when it comes to sexuality. The topic simply doesn't exist. Even though I've often wished that I could be open about it. I've often started to talk about the topic, but it's always in vain. It's just incredibly uncomfortable for them."

    10. Looners don't buy their balloons in the supermarket.

    "Balloons from the supermarket are generally too small and too round. They're okay as decorations, but I can't do anything else with them. Balloons need a little more stability to be used in bed, which is why I've turned my love for balloons into my job too. Now I can get balloons right from the source with our shop Balloons United and can spare myself the supermarket searches for giant balloons."

    11. If you want to integrate a balloon into your sex life, first listen to the experiences of others.

    "I advise anyone who's curious to use a zeppelin balloon to start with. Compared to the other figure balloons, they are really easy to blow up and you can easily (and comfortably) sit or lie on them to have sex.

    One last thing, even though it seems like common sense: make sure that there's nothing sharp or pointy or hot near by the balloon. And the surface underneath needs to be as soft as possible (like a bed, or duvet, or carpet). Then just sit on it and let yourself go. Go with your gut and do whatever is enjoyable and feels good for the both of you. That's it. On our YouTube channel, we have a few videos with tips and tricks on how to blow up balloons correctly and the right types of balloon for you."

    12. You've got a balloon fetish? You're totally normal.

    "Just because playing with balloons turns you on doesn't mean you aren't normal. You've got a balloon fetish? You're totally normal. If you're just curious and want to try out using balloons in bed, that's absolutely fine! After all, what is 'normal'?"

    You can find Maggy BerLoon's balloon shop here and her Facebook profile here.

    And these are Maggy's favorite balloons:

    This post was translated from German.

    BuzzFeed Daily

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Comprehending the World of Tantric Massage Through a Holistic Lens

The tapestry of massage treatment is rich and diverse, providing a myriad of practices from every corner of the globe, each with its unique appeal and healing benefits. Among these, Tantric Massage Meikle Wartle, an appealing practice stemming from Japan, has gradually gained momentum and fascination worldwide. This sensual experience combines the therapeutic touch with a deep, erotic connection, making it a distinctive choice for those seeking relaxation and intimacy. As we explore the world of Nuru massage, it's important to place it within the more comprehensive context of massage treatments such as Chinese massage, erotic massage, happy ending massage, tantric massage, and Asian massage, illuminating the connections and special features of each.

Nuru Massage Meikle Wartle: A Domino Effect to Happiness

At its heart, Nuru massage is a sensuous, body-to-body massage where the masseur uses their entire body to massage the customer. Nuru, meaning "slippery" in Japanese, lives up to its name by utilizing a special, slick gel made from seaweed. This gel, besides improving the tactile experience, permits the effortless moving of bodies versus each other, developing a deeply physical and intimate experience. Supporters of Nuru massage supporter for its capability to produce heightened levels of relaxation and pleasure, connecting individuals to their sensuality in an extensive and distinct way.

Chinese Massage Meikle Wartle: The Root of Wellness

To comprehend Nuru massage completely, it's beneficial to explore its ancestral roots, like the conventional Chinese massage. Known likewise as Tui Na, Chinese massage integrates principles of Conventional Chinese Medicine (TCM) and uses various hand strategies and manipulative treatments to stimulate acupressure points. Its main objective is to establish a harmonious circulation of Qi (vital energy) throughout the body, facilitating healing and relaxation. Unlike Nuru massage, Chinese massage focuses more on health and less on erotic pleasures however shares the ethos of holistic wellness and the importance of touch in recovery.

Erotic Massage Meikle Wartle: A Spectrum of Enjoyment

Erotic massage, a broad category under which Nuru massage falls, encapsulates different methods and practices aimed at arousing sexual stimulation alongside relaxation. It's an expedition of sensuality, where the journey is as valued as the location. Erotic massages can differ substantially in method and intent, however they all share the core objective of connecting individuals with their erotic energy. Erotic massages, including the happy ending massage, provide an area for people to explore their desires and limits in a considerate and consensual environment.

Happy Ending Massage Meikle Wartle: The Controversial Cousin

A subset of erotic massage that has actually gathered much attention (and controversy) is the happy ending massage. This term colloquially describes massages that conclude with a sexual release, highlighting the climax over the journey. Although it exists in the spectrum of sensual massages, it's crucial to compare services that focus on holistic sensuous health, like Nuru or tantric massage, from those entirely concentrated on the climax.

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Tantric Massage Meikle Wartle: Spiritual Sensuality

Tantric massage, rooted in the ancient wisdom of Tantra, offers a spiritual technique to sensuality. It's more than simply a physical experience; it's a meditative journey that looks for to awaken Kundalini energy, thought to live at the base of the spinal column. Through deliberate and conscious touch, tantric massage intends to broaden awareness and fuse the physical with the spiritual, frequently resulting in profound psychological and physical responses. While tantric massage shares the element of erotic energy with Nuru massage, its main focus is on spiritual and emotional connectivity rather than just physical enjoyment.

Asian Massage Meikle Wartle: A Tapestry of Methods

The term Asian massage incorporates a huge variety of practices from throughout the Asian continent, including Thai massage Meikle Wartle, Shiatsu (Japanese massage), and Balinese massage, among others. Each of these styles brings something distinct to the table, from the extending and rhythmic compression of Thai massage to the focused pressure of Shiatsu. While they vary significantly in technique and focus, the common thread amongst Asian massages is the holistic technique to health, acknowledging the interconnection between the mind, body, and spirit.

Why Seek a Nuru Massage in Meikle Wartle?

In an era where touch is typically relegated to the background of our interactions, the deep, tactile connection provided by a Nuru massage can be a revelatory experience. It caters not only to the physical requirement for touch but likewise supports psychological and sensual wellness. Opting for a Nuru massage from a knowledgeable professional provides a chance to explore pleasure in a safe, considerate, and consensual environment, making it an enticing choice for those looking to deepen their connection with their sensuality.

Choosing the Right Massage for You

Provided the huge landscape of massage therapies available, it's vital to understand your desires and borders before starting a journey with any specific practice. Whether you're looking for the spiritual depth of a tantric massage, the health-focused technique of Chinese massage, or the intimate expedition used by Nuru massage, there's a world of experiences waiting to be found.

Navigating the world of sensual and healing massages can certainly be a voyage of self-discovery and recovery. As we've seen, from the erotically charged Nuru massage to the spiritually enriched tantric massage, and the health-centric Chinese massage, each practice provides its unique mix of benefits and experiences. The crucial depend on approaching these experiences with an open mind and a clear understanding of your own requirements and limits.

If you're feeling intrigued by the abundant tapestry of sensuous and healing massages available, perhaps it's time to reach into your wallet and treat yourself to an unparalleled journey of relaxation, sensuality, and self-discovery. Keep in mind, the journey toward wellness and erotic expedition is deeply personal, and there's a best massage experience out there waiting to unfold for you.

Meiklemill Tantric Massage | Memsie Tantric Massage


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