/jp/ - check pinned thread, please.

She was very open sexually. Only with her husband, but made sure everyone knew it vividly. Walking around the house shirtless was common practice, rarely without a bra though.

I had stayed at her house for about 2 weeks when my mom went manic/psychotic. Pretty sure my dad was off drunk somewhere, but I was too young (7-8) to really know.

As for taboo, I wet the bed once during that stay and she put me in diapers for a few days. One of my many possible triggers for the fetishism.

Thankfully drugs can make me care a little less. So yeah.

>>28949

Thank your for sharing that, but it wasn't what I had in mind, really.

I'd hoped for a story about you two sharing something you knew was wrong - or even better, willingly wronged another, and enjoyed it exactly because of that. Defied the state of the world for selfish bliss inside your very own universe.

Since the atmosphere seems to be just about right, maybe I can illustrate the matter.

I've lived with my stepmother for quite some time during my childhood.

She was a cruel woman. Physically, not so much. That was more my father's domain. She had a way to make me feel unloved; it lingers still. I feared her.

One day - it must have been about a decade ago - I had to leave the bathroom in a hurry; as it happens with young men of that age, a curious stirring befell my loins, and I only vaguely knew it to be something shameful back then.

How she knew about my predicament I remember not, but in fact, my stepmother appeared shortly thereafter. I tried to hide my shame below my old bed; I remember vividly, as the cold metal pressed against my flesh. I could do little else, as for the rest of the encounter, I remained in shock.

Now, if you expect transgression, I must disappoint you. She only dried me with a towel, but her touch was exceedingly gentle. The most gentle any person has ever touched me; she didn't say a word, but she had that very, very odd look on her face. I'd call it complacent, but it exuded no warmth, to the contrary: I felt like I was being eaten.

I was confused at that time, and it was never spoken of again, but now I understand; as a parting gift, I will forever crave that exertion of power that was never rendered unto me. I want control to be taken from me, I want algid force to swathe my flesh, and most of all, I want to be touched, very gently, where it hurts.

So, there. In lieu of a better term, what I'm looking for is violence. The kind where the two parties of an asymmetric relationship embrace excess. The kind where the one makes his way into the other's heart by finding out where it hurts, and then pressing softly.

>>29011

When I was a little kid my mom sneaked up to my room while I was stimulating my reproductive genitals to 2d babes, then opened the door very suddenly. I minimized the window quickly and hid my boner under my shirt and against my underwear waistband, although it was still far from inconspicuous. In fact, I would say that it was glaringly obvious that my d*ck was swollen. Then she asked me what I was looking at, to which I don't remember what I replied but I asked her to leave. Then she came close to me and took the mouse from my hand and clicked on my minimized tab just to humiliate me fully. Then she laughed and said it was normal, before moving on to make me some hot chocolate. I don't know what sadistic spirit ensnared her then, but I swear she delighted in catching me during that moment of extreme vulnerability.

Just popping in to say this thread deserves some kind of award for "How the fuck did this OP lead to these more recent posts?"