arihi

[arihi]

people complaining that any critique of a thing they like ruins it for them is such a skill issue. personally i can spend 10 hours a day critiquing the things i like and still enjoy them passionately and wholeheartedly

[arihi]

I love when I still get notes on stories with less than 100 notes, because it’s like where are you finding them! How does a story with little fanfare still find an audience years later? It reminds me that my stories are always around and even if I haven’t written in months, or at that frequency specifically for years, people are still readers, and I am still a writer.

#tumblr blogs work great for this purpose #unfortunately shorts I put on Twitter do not experience the same level #and by design! Twitter is a constantly updating platform with different unspoken customs #thank you for still reading my stuff

[arihi]

ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to be infertile

#god please please please please please #my earliest memories of using the family computer include looking up symptoms of infertility in a desperate wish to have them

[arihi]

i say this with love: yall will make yourselves feel bad about fucking anything, i swear to god. you feel bad about feeling too much. you feel bad about feeling too little. you feel bad about what makes you feel good. you feel bad about not knowing what you like. you feel bad for not being able to survive easily in a world hostile to you. you feel bad for the tactics that you use to survive. you feel bad for how you identify. you feel bad for being unique. you feel bad for experiences that you share with millions of people. you suspect that every feeling, experience, desire, fear, and question in your brain is somehow evidence that you don't deserve to exist.

i can be so so reassuring about all of these things but ultimately you are the one that's gonna have to make a conscious choice to stop measuring yourself in these ways. there is no authority who gets to determine whether you have the right to exist or not. you already do. there is no body that votes on whether you get to feel, identify, or think as you do. you already do. your existence as it is is non-negotiable. stop trying to justify yourself. you're already here. the world is going to have to deal with it anyway.

#wise words #I think the worst thing we do to ourselves is over moralizing everything #no one writes a think piece about you and dictates what you can and cannot feel and do #no one experiences your life but you

[arihi]

All For Me

The scenery is familiar. For all the regal golden trims, the dark red decorations and soft carpeting, a view can only be so grand and luxurious when you’ve seen it so many times. Yet despite the familiarity with the setting, there’s an air of wonder, the feeling that this place is part of something larger than most people realize by just walking into an obscured, little-known club.

But it was a job, and a high-paying one at that.

Despite how low the attendance was on some days, the gigs here were coveted. Reliable, well-paid in advance, quiet clientele – from everything Ashe could tell, the club was open most days but only offered jobs on a limited basis, perhaps by seniority, perhaps to encourage new talent. All she knew was if they offered a night, you’d be stupid not to take it.

“Here you are!” The receptionist chirped enthusiastically. “Thanks for coming in tonight! You get two drinks – before or after the show doesn’t matter, as long as you’re all good for it. You know the drill.” She winked.

At the very least, people seemed to be recognizing her more and more lately. Ashe smiled and walked into the lobby, hand shielding her eyes from the bright neon light of the club’s motto shining above her. She headed down the hallway, drink tickets clasped in her other hand. She’d arrived a bit earlier than scheduled. A drink wouldn’t be the worst idea.

She found herself waiting at the bar, half sat in a seat as she checked her phone. It was early enough that the bar wasn’t staffed yet, though there were employees and a few patrons milling about. If Ashe was honest with herself, it wasn’t so much that she was being recognized as it was that people stared at her more often, these days. She’d been working hard lately – learning from every performance, changing her routines and outfits based on reception, working on the fine details of her makeup. As a performer, she was used to prolonged stares and attention, and a part of her took pride in the noticeable uptick compared to her previous times here. Though, maybe they’d just noticed she was tonight’s entertainment. Maybe the feeling of being watched, of being leered at was just plain old lust.

“First time at Ground Zero?” An unfamiliar voice caught Ashe’s attention. Their eyes wandered to her chest as she held the night-pass badge up half-heartedly, about to explain.

“Ah, no need, I see you’re entertainment. Well, don’t let me keep you!”

Ashe sighed as she watched the patron walk back towards the club floor. So much for being more recognizable lately.

No, no. That was hardly the approach to starting the night. Tonight, she was sexy, she was unattainable. She was confident. Her looks could kill. And by the end of the night, they’d never forget her.

“I remember you! Ashe, right? I’m Elle.”

Ashe looked up, visibly caught off guard. The woman couldn’t have been more than five years older than her, her hair swept into a short ponytail behind her. Most of the club members were older, but Ashe spotted a Member’s Only wristband on her hand holding a drink. Where had she gotten a drink?

“I mean how could I forget! That one night you did, I think maybe a couple of weeks ago… Phew!” The young woman mock swept at her forehead. “When you did that fake out, and it looked like you were about to fall off of the pole, but caught and lifted yourself before the very bottom, now that’s some lower body strength.”

Elle prattled on about the performance she had seen before Ashe had an opportunity to even speak. She did remember that performance – it was in fact over a month ago, before she’d started dedicatedly working on her routine, and she’d still apparently made enough of an impact that someone remembered the entire thing. It was enough to make her blush.

“You know, you’re actually kind of the reason I joined the club! It’s a whole process, with a waiting period and everything.” Elle flashed her wristband. “I’m still newish so I’ve got to wear this. I’ve been attending hoping you’d show up again, so I guess it’s my lucky day. You know, the other day I’d swung by and watched a show, not as good as you of course, but the performer then happened to…

…

“…ah, but it’s getting close to that time. Sorry the bartender hasn’t showed up yet. Do you want mine?” Elle offered her drink, before thinking otherwise and bringing it back to her side. “On second thought, don’t want to mess with your game. Find me after, and I’ll buy you one – how does that sound?”

She patted Ashe’s shoulder encouragingly twice and walked down the hallway, Ashe blinking away the flattering, albeit strange interaction she’d just had with the woman talking her ear off until her sense of time melted. She checked her phone and rushed to the dressing room with renewed vigor. Sure, she’d wanted to prepare a bit earlier, but the confidence boost was worth it.

Tonight, she was sexy, unattainable. Confident. In charge.

Ashe peered out from the back of the stage. A sizeable crowd, a few people in the preferential seating closer to the stage. Some employees, likely on break were watching from the sidelines. Just another minute, and she’d begin her well-rehearsed act. In half a minute, she’d be radiant, confident, blinding. Just seconds now. She took a deep breath, eyes darting around her soon-to-be captive audience. She couldn’t help but notice Elle was nowhere to be found.

But, she wasn’t doing this for Elle.

The music started, and so did she.

Moving and dancing to the rhythm was no difficult task. It was about flexibility, fluidity, being able to improvise slower movements while making eye contact and spreading her attention as widely as possible. She thrived like this, she loved this. Patrons whistled and egged her on, hollered compliments and gasped at her body, lithe, posed, perfect. Ultimately, this wasn’t about the recognition, or even the audience. Ashe did this because she was amazing while doing it, because she’d worked hard and owned it. Because she was beautiful at it. As she moved towards the pole part of her routine, she found herself panting not from exertion, but from excitement. From how well it was going, from how perfectly she was nailing every move. She couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together, her body feverish with anticipation.

…

Before Ashe realized it, she was soaring. Effortlessly her body wove into practiced movements as she balanced herself precariously, masterfully near the top of the pole. She blinked in confusion – how had she lost time in the middle of her routine? Judging by the song playing, it’d been…nearly five minutes? Maybe she’d practiced so much it was like second nature, that she’d zoned out… Irresponsible, but impressively so as the people continued to cheer her on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Closer to the ceiling of the stage, lights and figures reflected onto her from the club’s VIP luxury boxes hanging from the second floor. Ashe looked up at her reflection, hardly recognizing the confident, barely-dressed, flushed woman staring back at her. She knew they were one-way mirrors, and she’d gotten compliments before for that part of the routine. How did you know they were watching you? How did you manage to look directly in their eyes through the mirror?

They didn’t know – they didn’t know that secretly, that every time Ashe looked up with reverence, made eye contact with her obscured audience, she was watching only her own piercing eyes look back down at herself, enraptured.

This was all for Ashe.

The ending approached as she was suddenly thrust out of her self-enamored reverie by gravity and a pit in her stomach signaling the impending drop. She, she had zoned out again, had lost track, hadn’t realized, hadn’t the time to set up,

she fell,

she caught herself,

right before she hit the floor.

Ashe gasped for air as she felt her cunt clench rhythmically, fighting to keep her eyes from glazing over.

Had she just cum?

She extricated herself from the pole to the sounds of roaring ovation, nearly shaking, and immediately faced away not even daring to check if it was wet or not. She gave a quick bow to the front and hurried herself behind the curtains to gather herself. It was usually polite to see off the next performer, but she was– caught up in herself, only doing this for herself, no—

She was concerned about herself. Something was wrong.

She staggered down the stairs to the stage and slumped into a chair, her legs still weak from the exercise, and from…

She clenched her thighs out of embarrassment and immediately relaxed them, yelping at her body’s reminder, a lingering ghost of orgasmic pleasure.

She clenched her thighs again, mmff.

She clenched her thighs once more, a softer pang of arousal thrumming throughout her entire body.

She clenched—

“That, was, amazing!” Elle descended upon her with a light blanket out of nowhere.

“Let’s go, you seem like you need a break. Come.” Ashe shivered. Before she could protest, her legs began clumsily following in step as Elle grabbed her limp wrist forward, leading her to whatever destination she had in mind.

“Just to the dressing room, darling.” Elle turned around and winked. “Everyone’s out, and I’d love to talk to you.”

There was something exasperating about suddenly being thrust into work again, about having to smile and entertain and work an overeager patron, but Ashe was too tired, too distracted by her own body’s confusing reactions to pull away.

…

..

She sat back down. She blinked in confusion once again, the feeling of losing time and zoning back in somewhere else becoming frustratingly familiar. The face looking back at her seemed to be just as perplexed before melting into realization. She was sitting at the full-length mirror. They were back in the dressing room.

“Poor Ashe, you’re so out of it,” Elle purred. “It was such an impressive routine I can hardly blame you. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Ashe couldn't help but beam at the compliment, the recognition of her hard work. She was exhausted, but she watched her eyes shine with pride. She had outdone herself. She couldn’t necessarily remember this one, but she’d worked on it off stage for certain. It was all her. All for her. Her ankles crossed in youthful glee.

“Now, tell me about your outfit.” Elle effortlessly pulled the blanket off, unveiling Ashe’s revealing clothing, or utter lack thereof. “Is this at all in coordination with the song, or tied thematically to the theme of your performance?”

Ashe looked up in confusion. “No no, honey.” Elle tilted her chin back towards the mirror. “Don’t look at me. Tell me about you.”

She couldn’t help but shrink her body and cover herself with her arms.

“Suddenly shy?”

She couldn’t help it, she was… the performance was over. It was one thing setting up for the show, or practicing in the same mindset, but she was tired, and it was over, and her body was… her body was just tired, too. Maybe she’d practiced too much.

“I must say, it’s a really bold choice to have drenched panties be part of the overall look,” Elle murmured into her ear.

Ashe snapped her head back towards Elle in indignation and embarrassment but was met with a finger to her lips.

“Shh, baby. So eager to look into my eyes?”

They were green.

“I’m trying to do things a little differently today, and I’d like to talk about you…”

Her eyes smiled.

“Earth to Ashe?”

Elle’s eyes furrowed in surprise and amusement.

“You’re very easy… …to talk with!” She fought back a laugh as she took Ashe’s face with both hands and gently guided it towards the mirror once more.

“Tell me about the theme of your act,” she asked yet again. “There is one, surely?”

What answer was she looking for? It wasn’t that deep, she’d performed for the audience, for the club as her client, for…

“Unless this is all just for you?” Elle whispered, the words sending a shiver down her spine.

“…me.”

“Good girl,” Elle gushed, her hands dropping from Ashe’s cheeks down to her shoulders, rubbing them gently. Her voice lowered. “When you were performing, the boxes – could you see who was in them? You stared straight at me, you know.”

Idly, Ashe realized that Elle had been watching the whole time.

“But you weren’t looking at me, were you? Who were you looking at?”

Ashe’s hips twitched as arousal like lightning struck between her legs.

“…me.”

“So confident, so about yourself! I love it,” Elle panted into her ear as her hands started gingerly playing with Ashe’s nipples. “Does that turn you on? Seeing you display yourself for others?”

Was it that, the display for others? She watched her reflection lightly furrow her brow.

“Or was it,” Elle appended quickly, “seeing the lengths that you yourself can go to?”

Ashe gasped at the ministrations, voice caught in her throat.

“So what really turns you on is…”

“Me,” she whimpered.

“You’re telling me you get off on seeing you debauch yourself?” Elle barked with laughter. “Oh, I knew I was right about you, selfish girl.”

That sent alarm bells ringing through her head, alarm bells that were immediately deafened by a piercing moan from her own lips.

“You can’t fault me, Ashe.” Elle twisted the other nipple idly. “After all, it’s ‘you’ that I want. And what ‘you’ are, is delicious…” She nibbled her ear and trailed her tongue down Ashe’s neck.

“Delectable,” she planted kisses down her shoulder.

“And in danger.” Elle bit just above her collarbone.

Ashe fought a pained, lustful yelp.

“You see, I want to see, ‘you’, debauch yourself some more…would that be alright?” Elle asked with fake concern. “Would it be okay if you became more depraved? Not for me, but for…”

“… …me…!” Ashe gasped as pangs of pleasure left her breathless, helpless.

“You sure? I mean, if you really want.” Elle put a palm to Ashe’s back, heaving with shuddering gasps, slick with sweat, and pushed firmly.

“Kneel.”

Ashe yelped as she tumbled forward, her hands catching against the mirror, unconsciously bringing herself to look back up as she caught her own eyes in her reflection once more.

“You know,” Elle mused idly, crossing her arms, “I knew that first night I saw you that this was how we’d end up, somehow. Well, I entered membership, jumped through the hoops and all, so I guess I did put in a good amount of effort,” she chuckled. “You’ll be my first, you know.”

“…Me.” Ashe gasped, almost doubling over from the thought of it.

“Yes, you! And so I’d like for you to also want it…you know, to consent.”

A flicker of concern flashed across her features in the mirror. Consent to what?

“It doesn’t matter what it is, you little slut,” Elle growled. “All that matters is that ‘you’ are going to do it. That ‘you’ will do it. Won't you?”

At some point, Ashe realized that she’d lost most of what little clothing she had on, that her body coursed with arousal and throbbed with every movement. She hadn’t noticed; she was so focused on…

“Your eyes, baby. Bring them back.” A soft, encouraging voice that could do no harm brought her attention back up to her reflection. “There we go. As I was saying… who’s going to do this?”

“…M-me?”

“You want to be mine? You want to leak yourself away for me?”

Ashe had caught glimpses of what the club looked like when performances were over. What would her eyes look like, gone, as helpless as the rest of the girls who were often paraded on the floor like trophies? Would she look as lost as they were? Would she look nearly as happy?

Elle whispered into her ear once again. “A part of you yearns to see the light leave your own eyes. And why would you deny yourself that?”

Ashe’s body was still as it came, her hazy eyes locked onto her reflection’s, the only evidence dripping down her thighs.

“My bad, not for me, no. No, this…” Elle trailed her fingers against Ashe’s trembling wet thigh. “This is all for you baby,” she cooed. “All for ‘you’.”

…

..

.

“Back, are we? Keep touching yourself.”

Ashe’s panties had been removed, and her hands pawed against her body without a thought. Elle sat behind her on the stool, her hands draped over Ashe’s shoulders possessively.

“Who asked for this?”

“Me,” Ashe panted.

“Who’s doing this to you?”

“Me,” she whimpered, her reflection’s eyes steadfast.

“Who’s making you feel this good?”

“M-Me!” Her voice croaked as she drew closer to oblivion.

“Who’s going to break you?”

Ashe let out a guttural moan as she came, soaking her fingers and the floor underneath. Her piercing gaze, turned empty, turned gone as her eyes rolled up into her head and she slumped against the mirror, limbs limp and lifeless against her mirror image.

Elle stood up and stretched, utterly sated with her own private performance. “I’ll be right back with that drink I promised you dear, and…” She spotted two slips as she leaned down to pick them up. “…your own two! My, oh my.” She bit her lip as she stared at the unconscious, empty girl by her feet.

“I’m afraid soon there won’t be very much of ‘you’ left.”

#reblog

[arihi]

All For Me

The scenery is familiar. For all the regal golden trims, the dark red decorations and soft carpeting, a view can only be so grand and luxurious when you’ve seen it so many times. Yet despite the familiarity with the setting, there’s an air of wonder, the feeling that this place is part of something larger than most people realize by just walking into an obscured, little-known club.

But it was a job, and a high-paying one at that.

Despite how low the attendance was on some days, the gigs here were coveted. Reliable, well-paid in advance, quiet clientele – from everything Ashe could tell, the club was open most days but only offered jobs on a limited basis, perhaps by seniority, perhaps to encourage new talent. All she knew was if they offered a night, you’d be stupid not to take it.

“Here you are!” The receptionist chirped enthusiastically. “Thanks for coming in tonight! You get two drinks – before or after the show doesn’t matter, as long as you’re all good for it. You know the drill.” She winked.

At the very least, people seemed to be recognizing her more and more lately. Ashe smiled and walked into the lobby, hand shielding her eyes from the bright neon light of the club’s motto shining above her. She headed down the hallway, drink tickets clasped in her other hand. She’d arrived a bit earlier than scheduled. A drink wouldn’t be the worst idea.

She found herself waiting at the bar, half sat in a seat as she checked her phone. It was early enough that the bar wasn’t staffed yet, though there were employees and a few patrons milling about. If Ashe was honest with herself, it wasn’t so much that she was being recognized as it was that people stared at her more often, these days. She’d been working hard lately – learning from every performance, changing her routines and outfits based on reception, working on the fine details of her makeup. As a performer, she was used to prolonged stares and attention, and a part of her took pride in the noticeable uptick compared to her previous times here. Though, maybe they’d just noticed she was tonight’s entertainment. Maybe the feeling of being watched, of being leered at was just plain old lust.

“First time at Ground Zero?” An unfamiliar voice caught Ashe’s attention. Their eyes wandered to her chest as she held the night-pass badge up half-heartedly, about to explain.

“Ah, no need, I see you’re entertainment. Well, don’t let me keep you!”

Ashe sighed as she watched the patron walk back towards the club floor. So much for being more recognizable lately.

No, no. That was hardly the approach to starting the night. Tonight, she was sexy, she was unattainable. She was confident. Her looks could kill. And by the end of the night, they’d never forget her.

“I remember you! Ashe, right? I’m Elle.”

Ashe looked up, visibly caught off guard. The woman couldn’t have been more than five years older than her, her hair swept into a short ponytail behind her. Most of the club members were older, but Ashe spotted a Member’s Only wristband on her hand holding a drink. Where had she gotten a drink?

“I mean how could I forget! That one night you did, I think maybe a couple of weeks ago… Phew!” The young woman mock swept at her forehead. “When you did that fake out, and it looked like you were about to fall off of the pole, but caught and lifted yourself before the very bottom, now that’s some lower body strength.”

Elle prattled on about the performance she had seen before Ashe had an opportunity to even speak. She did remember that performance – it was in fact over a month ago, before she’d started dedicatedly working on her routine, and she’d still apparently made enough of an impact that someone remembered the entire thing. It was enough to make her blush.

“You know, you’re actually kind of the reason I joined the club! It’s a whole process, with a waiting period and everything.” Elle flashed her wristband. “I’m still newish so I’ve got to wear this. I’ve been attending hoping you’d show up again, so I guess it’s my lucky day. You know, the other day I’d swung by and watched a show, not as good as you of course, but the performer then happened to…

…

“…ah, but it’s getting close to that time. Sorry the bartender hasn’t showed up yet. Do you want mine?” Elle offered her drink, before thinking otherwise and bringing it back to her side. “On second thought, don’t want to mess with your game. Find me after, and I’ll buy you one – how does that sound?”

She patted Ashe’s shoulder encouragingly twice and walked down the hallway, Ashe blinking away the flattering, albeit strange interaction she’d just had with the woman talking her ear off until her sense of time melted. She checked her phone and rushed to the dressing room with renewed vigor. Sure, she’d wanted to prepare a bit earlier, but the confidence boost was worth it.

Tonight, she was sexy, unattainable. Confident. In charge.

Ashe peered out from the back of the stage. A sizeable crowd, a few people in the preferential seating closer to the stage. Some employees, likely on break were watching from the sidelines. Just another minute, and she’d begin her well-rehearsed act. In half a minute, she’d be radiant, confident, blinding. Just seconds now. She took a deep breath, eyes darting around her soon-to-be captive audience. She couldn’t help but notice Elle was nowhere to be found.

But, she wasn’t doing this for Elle.

The music started, and so did she.

Moving and dancing to the rhythm was no difficult task. It was about flexibility, fluidity, being able to improvise slower movements while making eye contact and spreading her attention as widely as possible. She thrived like this, she loved this. Patrons whistled and egged her on, hollered compliments and gasped at her body, lithe, posed, perfect. Ultimately, this wasn’t about the recognition, or even the audience. Ashe did this because she was amazing while doing it, because she’d worked hard and owned it. Because she was beautiful at it. As she moved towards the pole part of her routine, she found herself panting not from exertion, but from excitement. From how well it was going, from how perfectly she was nailing every move. She couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together, her body feverish with anticipation.

…

Before Ashe realized it, she was soaring. Effortlessly her body wove into practiced movements as she balanced herself precariously, masterfully near the top of the pole. She blinked in confusion – how had she lost time in the middle of her routine? Judging by the song playing, it’d been…nearly five minutes? Maybe she’d practiced so much it was like second nature, that she’d zoned out… Irresponsible, but impressively so as the people continued to cheer her on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Closer to the ceiling of the stage, lights and figures reflected onto her from the club’s VIP luxury boxes hanging from the second floor. Ashe looked up at her reflection, hardly recognizing the confident, barely-dressed, flushed woman staring back at her. She knew they were one-way mirrors, and she’d gotten compliments before for that part of the routine. How did you know they were watching you? How did you manage to look directly in their eyes through the mirror?

They didn’t know – they didn’t know that secretly, that every time Ashe looked up with reverence, made eye contact with her obscured audience, she was watching only her own piercing eyes look back down at herself, enraptured.

This was all for Ashe.

The ending approached as she was suddenly thrust out of her self-enamored reverie by gravity and a pit in her stomach signaling the impending drop. She, she had zoned out again, had lost track, hadn’t realized, hadn’t the time to set up,

she fell,

she caught herself,

right before she hit the floor.

Ashe gasped for air as she felt her cunt clench rhythmically, fighting to keep her eyes from glazing over.

Had she just cum?

She extricated herself from the pole to the sounds of roaring ovation, nearly shaking, and immediately faced away not even daring to check if it was wet or not. She gave a quick bow to the front and hurried herself behind the curtains to gather herself. It was usually polite to see off the next performer, but she was– caught up in herself, only doing this for herself, no—

She was concerned about herself. Something was wrong.

She staggered down the stairs to the stage and slumped into a chair, her legs still weak from the exercise, and from…

She clenched her thighs out of embarrassment and immediately relaxed them, yelping at her body’s reminder, a lingering ghost of orgasmic pleasure.

She clenched her thighs again, mmff.

She clenched her thighs once more, a softer pang of arousal thrumming throughout her entire body.

She clenched—

“That, was, amazing!” Elle descended upon her with a light blanket out of nowhere.

“Let’s go, you seem like you need a break. Come.” Ashe shivered. Before she could protest, her legs began clumsily following in step as Elle grabbed her limp wrist forward, leading her to whatever destination she had in mind.

“Just to the dressing room, darling.” Elle turned around and winked. “Everyone’s out, and I’d love to talk to you.”

There was something exasperating about suddenly being thrust into work again, about having to smile and entertain and work an overeager patron, but Ashe was too tired, too distracted by her own body’s confusing reactions to pull away.

…

..

She sat back down. She blinked in confusion once again, the feeling of losing time and zoning back in somewhere else becoming frustratingly familiar. The face looking back at her seemed to be just as perplexed before melting into realization. She was sitting at the full-length mirror. They were back in the dressing room.

“Poor Ashe, you’re so out of it,” Elle purred. “It was such an impressive routine I can hardly blame you. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Ashe couldn't help but beam at the compliment, the recognition of her hard work. She was exhausted, but she watched her eyes shine with pride. She had outdone herself. She couldn’t necessarily remember this one, but she’d worked on it off stage for certain. It was all her. All for her. Her ankles crossed in youthful glee.

“Now, tell me about your outfit.” Elle effortlessly pulled the blanket off, unveiling Ashe’s revealing clothing, or utter lack thereof. “Is this at all in coordination with the song, or tied thematically to the theme of your performance?”

Ashe looked up in confusion. “No no, honey.” Elle tilted her chin back towards the mirror. “Don’t look at me. Tell me about you.”

She couldn’t help but shrink her body and cover herself with her arms.

“Suddenly shy?”

She couldn’t help it, she was… the performance was over. It was one thing setting up for the show, or practicing in the same mindset, but she was tired, and it was over, and her body was… her body was just tired, too. Maybe she’d practiced too much.

“I must say, it’s a really bold choice to have drenched panties be part of the overall look,” Elle murmured into her ear.

Ashe snapped her head back towards Elle in indignation and embarrassment but was met with a finger to her lips.

“Shh, baby. So eager to look into my eyes?”

They were green.

“I’m trying to do things a little differently today, and I’d like to talk about you…”

Her eyes smiled.

“Earth to Ashe?”

Elle’s eyes furrowed in surprise and amusement.

“You’re very easy… …to talk with!” She fought back a laugh as she took Ashe’s face with both hands and gently guided it towards the mirror once more.

“Tell me about the theme of your act,” she asked yet again. “There is one, surely?”

What answer was she looking for? It wasn’t that deep, she’d performed for the audience, for the club as her client, for…

“Unless this is all just for you?” Elle whispered, the words sending a shiver down her spine.

“…me.”

“Good girl,” Elle gushed, her hands dropping from Ashe’s cheeks down to her shoulders, rubbing them gently. Her voice lowered. “When you were performing, the boxes – could you see who was in them? You stared straight at me, you know.”

Idly, Ashe realized that Elle had been watching the whole time.

“But you weren’t looking at me, were you? Who were you looking at?”

Ashe’s hips twitched as arousal like lightning struck between her legs.

“…me.”

“So confident, so about yourself! I love it,” Elle panted into her ear as her hands started gingerly playing with Ashe’s nipples. “Does that turn you on? Seeing you display yourself for others?”

Was it that, the display for others? She watched her reflection lightly furrow her brow.

“Or was it,” Elle appended quickly, “seeing the lengths that you yourself can go to?”

Ashe gasped at the ministrations, voice caught in her throat.

“So what really turns you on is…”

“Me,” she whimpered.

“You’re telling me you get off on seeing you debauch yourself?” Elle barked with laughter. “Oh, I knew I was right about you, selfish girl.”

That sent alarm bells ringing through her head, alarm bells that were immediately deafened by a piercing moan from her own lips.

“You can’t fault me, Ashe.” Elle twisted the other nipple idly. “After all, it’s ‘you’ that I want. And what ‘you’ are, is delicious…” She nibbled her ear and trailed her tongue down Ashe’s neck.

“Delectable,” she planted kisses down her shoulder.

“And in danger.” Elle bit just above her collarbone.

Ashe fought a pained, lustful yelp.

“You see, I want to see, ‘you’, debauch yourself some more…would that be alright?” Elle asked with fake concern. “Would it be okay if you became more depraved? Not for me, but for…”

“… …me…!” Ashe gasped as pangs of pleasure left her breathless, helpless.

“You sure? I mean, if you really want.” Elle put a palm to Ashe’s back, heaving with shuddering gasps, slick with sweat, and pushed firmly.

“Kneel.”

Ashe yelped as she tumbled forward, her hands catching against the mirror, unconsciously bringing herself to look back up as she caught her own eyes in her reflection once more.

“You know,” Elle mused idly, crossing her arms, “I knew that first night I saw you that this was how we’d end up, somehow. Well, I entered membership, jumped through the hoops and all, so I guess I did put in a good amount of effort,” she chuckled. “You’ll be my first, you know.”

“…Me.” Ashe gasped, almost doubling over from the thought of it.

“Yes, you! And so I’d like for you to also want it…you know, to consent.”

A flicker of concern flashed across her features in the mirror. Consent to what?

“It doesn’t matter what it is, you little slut,” Elle growled. “All that matters is that ‘you’ are going to do it. That ‘you’ will do it. Won't you?”

At some point, Ashe realized that she’d lost most of what little clothing she had on, that her body coursed with arousal and throbbed with every movement. She hadn’t noticed; she was so focused on…

“Your eyes, baby. Bring them back.” A soft, encouraging voice that could do no harm brought her attention back up to her reflection. “There we go. As I was saying… who’s going to do this?”

“…M-me?”

“You want to be mine? You want to leak yourself away for me?”

Ashe had caught glimpses of what the club looked like when performances were over. What would her eyes look like, gone, as helpless as the rest of the girls who were often paraded on the floor like trophies? Would she look as lost as they were? Would she look nearly as happy?

Elle whispered into her ear once again. “A part of you yearns to see the light leave your own eyes. And why would you deny yourself that?”

Ashe’s body was still as it came, her hazy eyes locked onto her reflection’s, the only evidence dripping down her thighs.

“My bad, not for me, no. No, this…” Elle trailed her fingers against Ashe’s trembling wet thigh. “This is all for you baby,” she cooed. “All for ‘you’.”

…

..

.

“Back, are we? Keep touching yourself.”

Ashe’s panties had been removed, and her hands pawed against her body without a thought. Elle sat behind her on the stool, her hands draped over Ashe’s shoulders possessively.

“Who asked for this?”

“Me,” Ashe panted.

“Who’s doing this to you?”

“Me,” she whimpered, her reflection’s eyes steadfast.

“Who’s making you feel this good?”

“M-Me!” Her voice croaked as she drew closer to oblivion.

“Who’s going to break you?”

Ashe let out a guttural moan as she came, soaking her fingers and the floor underneath. Her piercing gaze, turned empty, turned gone as her eyes rolled up into her head and she slumped against the mirror, limbs limp and lifeless against her mirror image.

Elle stood up and stretched, utterly sated with her own private performance. “I’ll be right back with that drink I promised you dear, and…” She spotted two slips as she leaned down to pick them up. “…your own two! My, oh my.” She bit her lip as she stared at the unconscious, empty girl by her feet.

“I’m afraid soon there won’t be very much of ‘you’ left.”

#more under the cut #hypnosis #hypno #erotica #hypnosis stories #exhibitionism #humiliation #'me me me me me me me me me' what a selfish girl #good thing someone's here to teach her a lesson! #it's set in Ground Zero again baybeeee #no drug play this time but maybe next time! #I really liked writing the story and having a few little details in it that I'm not going to like excessively belabor #but I was proud of it which is a rarity for me in re: my writing #I made the joke that my next protagonist was just a broken voice box on Twitter #and what do you know #all she can say is me me me me me

[arihi]

Update - I super soft boiled the eggs earlier, like very soft boiled and then cooked it on low-medium for an hour, and it's the perfect amount of hard-boiled. Hell yeah!

Tea Eggs!!

You know what I haven't written in a while? A cooking/food post! Someone asked me something on Twitter which got me thinking and I figured I'd finally write about making food again, so I'm pretty happy to have something to post on here again.

Immediately at the start of writing this I understand why recipes come with a background story, because cooking IS personal and at least, since I'm not a recipe blog, what investment do you really have in this if I'm not saying something about it? But I'll put the extraneous details after the recipe. This is far from a formal recipe and just a musing of what I did. I mostly did it to taste but these are some approximate measurements:

6-8 eggs 4 cups of water 4 bags black tea 3 tablespoons dark soy sauce 2 tablespoons regular soy sauce 1 tablespoon sugar 4 teaspoons salt 2 teaspoons Shaoxing wine 1 teaspoon five spice powder

Important to note: Make as many eggs as you want as long as it'll all fit in the marinade you make - it's gotta cover all of the eggs, no peekin' out. If you need less marinade, i.e. you're putting it in a tight ziplock bag, feel free to halve or otherwise divide the ingredients to fit.

Make the marinade in a saucepan with all the ingredients besides eggs. I started boiling the water and put the ingredients in one by one. I cut open the tea bags and dumped it all in. The five spice powder is out of convenience - if you look up all the spices included in it, like sichuan peppercorn and star anise and cinnamon etc., and have all of those on hand, you can use those as well, but this is a simple recipe for a simple person.

After mixed and boiling, let it cool off to the side.

Soft boil eggs in another pot, put them in an ice bath afterwards or run them under cold water for a few minutes, whatever your jam is.

Gently (GENTLY!!) use the back of a spoon or something to crack the eggshells while leaving them on, but not break through too much of the egg. The marinade is pretty strong so you could theoretically just completely peel them and soak them for a shorter amount of time, but I like to make them traditionally.

Put the eggs into the marinade and simmer/warm them for like, an hour. After that, let the marinade cool down again, cover it, and refrigerate it for up to 24 hours. That's it!

*Notes*

The dark soy sauce is mostly for the marbling/color of it. If you want a darker marbling, you can add more and reduce the salt. Like I mentioned, I did a lot of it kind of by vibes, so I added in a little more soy sauce and salt myself.

I had a test egg after I simmered them for an hour. Simmer? Warm? As long as it's not boiling, you don't actually want to thoroughly cook the eggs unless you're okay with super overboiled eggs. Tasted good, but did taste so much better after soaking for a day. I note soft boiled above because when you simmer them they do cook a bit again, and traditionally it is hard-boiled, but if you want them not overboiled you should do the soft boil initially.

As seen in the picture above, I marinated it in a saucepan overnight and put some clingwrap over it. My first attempt I only made 3 eggs, and they fit in a mason jar so I just put it all in a mason jar and used maybe half of that recipe above. If you don't want a big ole saucepan, you can also put the marinade in a big ziplock bag that'll stay securely tight. As long as the marinade is covering ALL of the egg!

This is what I mean by marbling! OBVIOUSLY these pictures aren't great (I have never claimed to be a photographer) but this is just to show what the end result should look like. Sometimes the marbling doesn't really come through but it still tastes nice!

I grew up with tea eggs always at the grocery store and able to grab 'em any time I wanted. They were usually always warmed in a crock pot as you grabbed them with tongs, but since I'm not running a crock pot for days as I finish eating them all I have them cold and they're still glorious. You can honestly marinade them 8-24 hours or so, I just like marinading for longer so the color really comes through and for more of the taste to soak in. Marinade them too long and I think they'll get too salty. It's a great subtle flavor, and you can reuse the marinade for another batch if you're making more in a short amount of time (refresh ingredients a lil that may have evaporated) or I know you can theoretically cook meat and vegetables in that marinade so you'll have something tasty from it.

I'm (AS USUAL, everyone moans) having culture feels and been wanting to cook more as a result. Most of it has manifested in veggie soup or varying noodle dishes, but tea eggs are near and dear to my heart and honestly I am so glad they were easier to make than I thought. I have a lot of weird vibes and euughh, trauma 🙄 over being in the kitchen just due to weird family stuff I grew up with so cooking is a real chore for me. Ultimately this uses two small pots (saucepans? pots? whatever they're called) and a tablespoon so the dishes to clean afterwards is minimal.

I really like the tea eggs and I really like that I can make them now, and I wanted to share that. I will probably fixate on them for a hot second! They've got such a nice flavor and my whole apartment smells good after. Let me know if you make any! Thanks for reading.

[arihi]

Where can we find your side blog? I want to try making tea eggs! :D

Ahhh oops I definitely thought I’d linked it or reblogged it, totally slipped my mind! My side blog is ariadventures - other cooking adventures and also some anxiety posting from when I had first moved. Sees less use for good reasons these days, so I’m thinking to pivot it to other daily things in my life like cooking and such soon :) Thanks for asking or I wouldn’t have noticed!

#asks #Ari adventures #which is incidentally also a tag I use on this blog for things that have happened to me as well #initially tagged onto some stories that were based on real scenes I’d had #but now for daily life and I think that is great

[arihi]

I posted a recipe for tea eggs on my side blog!! Happy about it check it out :)

#ari adventures

[arihi]

who here thinks that they would have always transitioned no matter what gender they had been assigned at birth? like gender contrarianism

#I have so many thoughts on this I’m tempted to side blog rant about it #I have a lot of thoughts on gender and culture and the intersection between the two

[arihi]

In mine and many other east Asian cultures, the dragon traditionally symbolises things like power, wealth and strength (imperial symbol and all)

I think we often forget that in the story of the Great Race, the dragon came in fifth because it'd stopped to give people rain. Then it'd stopped again to push a rabbit adrift on a log across the wide river so it reached the shore safely (that's why the Rabbit year comes before the Dragon).

Dragons aren't meant to just be powerful - they are meant to do good with such power, and to help those in need.

So in this lunar new year, I hope you gain more power, so that you might be able to help others. I pray you have abundant resources so you may give to yourself and those around you. I wish you courage, endurance, kindness and generosity, for yourself and your people.

I hope you, and I, will be rain givers, life preservers, joy bringers.

I hope we will be dragons.

#Asian culture #be a dragon

[arihi]

Happy Lunar New Year everyone :) Have some noodles today if you can, for good luck!

#spending the night with chosen family and making Chinese food #happy

[arihi]

On Politeness vs Helpfulness

Two stories for you.

January 2018, my little town in rural Wisconsin was experiencing a cold snap. It was not record levels, but it was still very much cold enough to kill if you were unprepared. I was working ten to twelve hour shifts in a factory four towns away for 11 dollars an hour. When I woke at five AM for my shift, I discovered that my car wouldn’t start. The battery was flat dead - a common occurrence when temperatures dropped so suddenly. I couldn’t afford to miss a shift - on top of likely being fired for even a single sick day, I genuinely wouldn’t be able to afford rent.

I called my brother who lived two towns away, mostly to seek advice. He started swearing at me, hung up the phone, and was on his way. An hour of yelling and swearing and insults later, my car was running, and I was on my way to work. It was unpleasant - my brother and I didn’t have the best relationship - but he still *risked his life* in order to make sure I could make rent.

October 2022. I was in Oakland, California for Second Sky, a music festival. A few weeks earlier I had injured my knee at work. I was mostly healed, but I had brought my crutch to the show out of an abundance of caution. I had just gotten into the festival with @swarmingbats and I was given a task - get some drinks while she got into the merch line.

Second Sky was an experience, with landmarks made by the prop masters that created the Hogwarts theme park. There were giant trees, ancient temples, little secrets to discover and explore while getting blasted by EDM - it was a magical place to be. However - it did not make it obvious where you could go to get food or drinks. So I did what any reasonable person would do - I scoped out a couple who didn’t look too busy who also had drinks in their hands and asked for directions.

The couple managed to be very polite while *also* managing to impart zero information to me. I remember the woman looking at me like I was stupid for not immediately knowing where to get drinks. Fair enough - they owe me nothing, and they were *polite* while treating me like an idiot.

I managed to find the beer tent - they were literally right behind the couple. I got my wife the collectible cups they were selling, mission accomplished.

While I was giving my wife her drink, my crutch placed precariously under my arm, the *very same couple* walks *between* me and @swarmingbats and somehow managed to *kick* my crutch to the ground. It was obviously an accident. One of the couple turned around, horrified at what she’d done.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were a *cripple*”

Platitudes were exchanged, an easing of tension - but it was on my wife to actually pick my crutch from the ground.

I am a big fan of politeness, but if it gives someone the excuse to avoid being *helpful* in any way, I know which of these two interactions I’d choose, every day.

[arihi]

So just wanted you to know, "yellow" is a common slur against Asian Americans and so Huang Feng, being a Bruce Lee (whos an Asian man) clone and all could raise some eyebrows to your intentions. And before i get accused of white knighting, i am Asian

Thanks for reaching out! This is honestly something that might be important to discuss and I appreciate your attempt at broaching the subject delicately. More after the jump.

So to start. I am also Asian. Specifically Chinese American.

As an American born Chinese, I have a weird relationship with my Asian heritage. I have a bad accent when I speak Chinese and most of my upbringing and cultural understanding is very American and western-centric. So I have certain biases at play here that I fully acknowledge. My experience is not universal. But these characters are drawn from that experience.

Huang Feng is a reference to Bruce Lee's performance as Kato in the Green Hornet. Dà Huángfēng being a Chinese term for a hornet.

The character is also narratively implied to be a secret moonlighting identity for the Yellow Ranger in my made-up sentai team. (Who, due to my own decision to always refer to the characters by their Ranger color, is literally just called Yellow by the other members of the cast.)

This is also a reference. Specifically to one of my greatest inspirations, Thuy Trang (Rest in Peace), who played the original Mighty Morphin Yellow Ranger. She was one of the first "Cool Asian Characters" that I encountered in media targeted at me as a child, problematic color choice aside. I sincerely adored her and her giant robot Saber-Toothed Tiger.

To be honest I have a complicated relationship with "Asian Themed" characters in media. So often saddled with cliché stereotypes: Martial Arts, dumplings, nunchucks, etc etc.

But the thing is, even as I roll my eyes whenever I see the Fighting Game character that is The Chinese One who wears a rice hat and a qipao. Or when one is literally just Bruce Lee. I do also immediately main that character. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure. Taking what representation I can get with mixed feelings. Similar to my enjoyment of sexy anime girl art even though it's all rooted in pretty uncomfortable sexist and objectifying aesthetics. A lot of my work comes from a place of exploring my own sexuality/identity. These characters are, partly, my own attempt to explore Asian themes and ideas for myself.

I would love to say that I'm trying to "reclaim" the term or something but I'm just some internet artist drawing cute anime girls and monster smut. For me, playing with these clichés is just another way of being self-indulgent.

Not really defending these creative choices so much as explaining my perspective on them. I totally understand if all this turns folks off! I fully respect those who don't vibe with my work and wish them all the best. It's a big internet and I'm sure they can find something super great to enjoy elsewhere!

Anyway, sorry for the long rambly post. Despite the fact that I'm posting this on Tumblr, I am not super mentally equipped to engage in Discourse, so forgive me if I don't respond to the tags on this.

So I'll just leave y'all with a neat article by Kat Chow discussing the history and usage of the color Yellow in regards to Asian Identity.

#interesting discussion #I relate heavily to the complicated relationship with culture and representation

[arihi]

I dreamed I was mind-controlled in some messed up tea party scenario, being fed honey from a spoon, little fleeting thoughts of “what’s going on” “I shouldn’t be here” being overtaken with blank acceptance. When she lifts the lid she says “don’t look in the pot dear, anything could be in there…” and of course I don’t look. Now I’m thinking, man, that’s a little heavy-handed with the implied horror elements covered up with (literal) sweetness. But, uhhh, it was a good dream.

#That is hot! #What a great concept #'don't look in the pot' #'what you don't know can't hurt you' #niiiice

[arihi]

Charmed 2024

The hotel room key card is still in my sweatpants. My voice is back after having lost it for most of the weekend, now that I'm not having to strain my voice and yell over a crowd in a social space. On my counter there are gifts that friends gave me at the con, that made them think of me. I have some candy from another.

There are physical tokens that remind me of last weekend. The time I spent at Charmed feels distorted in long days that seemed to go on forever but also over in an instant too soon. The emotions and memories I carry with the experience feel so dear and intimate to me. I worry I can already feel the memories fading, days jam-packed with noteworthy events, and in the past I'd write a super detailed con post about it, but these days I keep things closer to my heart. And, I don't have to meticulously document all the things that happened because they're not the only good things that have happened to me. There are many more good things now, in the present, and there will be many more in the future.

Though Charmed felt separate from reality, in reality I am having a lot of life stressors, and I've spent most days in a dissociative stressed daze. During the con, I felt the most present I've felt in far too long - it wasn't until Sunday that the anxiety started to creep back in. All the time before that though, I was mostly present and aware and fully loving being around old friends and just immersed in a crowd of like-minded people. I once posted jokingly about believing in never loving anyone more than a 2 out of 10, and someone responded that it seemed difficult to do that, and life was terrifying and vulnerable but ultimately best lived by loving with your full heart, and to that person so many years ago, I think you were right.

I've been going through old posts lately trying to find one specific post (the mug one!) from years ago that seems to have disappeared. I happened across a lot of posts on cons. Cons have been a bit different for me lately, and I think I've posted about it before. I'm in a different place in life, it doesn't hold the same vital role as it once did, and these are good things! I'm no longer going straight back to family in Texas after a con. These aren't my only opportunities to see people. I live right by Spider and Sarah, and Doc flew in to visit us for the two weeks before Charmed. I'm blessed, compared to my old 2017, 2018, and 2019 self. This year, it felt like a breath of fresh air. I felt a con feeling that I admittedly haven't felt since my earlier years. I'm trying to pinpoint what that feeling was specifically, what made this con different from last year's Charmed, etc. But in the meantime, I am eternally grateful.

I already miss Charmed and that space, all my friends, and con drop used to hit so so so hard back then. And admittedly, it is still hitting now, though not nearly as rough. How wonderful for me to have cons so beautiful that I still experience con drop, even now. But I will be back again, and I will see everyone again soon.

#this was going to be more extensive of a write up #but I am tired and exhausted #and I am preparing to fly back to Texas after all. #soon #stressed about that #at least I'm not going right back after a con like I used to #it just incidentally worked out this way #but con drop is definitely going to hit while I am in Texas and that is going to be a rough feeling

[arihi]

I am trying to find the picture on a mug post I made ages ago and it seems to have completely disappeared from my account? Oh well! Now it's just a con-exclusive story I get to tell.

#con post incoming