Gee, I Think You're Swell

yourbadgrrl:

This is how he makes me his good girl…

princesshoneycunt:

I’m a good girl.

Holy christ, Dita. One of my greatest lady loves.

(via 2truthsandaliewrosa)

roughsexstories:

That’s right. Watch. Look into your eyes and watch yourself as you become my slut.

Being new means giving up some of my….prettier misconceptions. Transitioning from the polished, edited word of porn into the sweaty, red-faced, often markedly unpretty world of real life kinky sex. Being held up to the mirror in a strikingly similar situation to the one above was just such a moment for me. I felt magnificent. Well-used, utterly degraded, and yet somehow, I thought my reflection in the mirror would be….nicer. Maybe my hair a little out of place, my make-up running just so. Instead, I was greeted by a very red, very sodden, very distressed looking reflection; my pupils blown with endorphins, hair matted down with sweat and spit, mouth slightly agape, still trying to catch my breath. And I thought, “Oh, Lord. That’s not cute.”

But that’s the lesson, isn’t it? That this isn’t porn, and while this might not be a picture perfect moment, you’re beautiful just the same. All I have to do is shift my gaze from my own face to yours, a few inches behind me, to remember just how delighted we both are that this is a reality we’re both a part of.

rolledtrousers:

Keep that pretty mouth shut, silly girl.

I don’t need you to talk, to run your mouth and be the brat that you’re so desperately wanting to be. I don’t need to hear your protests, your pleads, your begging and your bitching. I don’t need to hear the words that slip out of your mouth like silk. I don’t need to hear the ones that sound like sense.

I just need you to listen, to open up your ear and let my words spill in, filling you up until you’re sloshing out the sides, overflowing with me, the important part of this exchange. I just need you to stop sighing, stop rolling your eyes, and suddenly realise that maybe I’m not just fucking around. I just need you to feel that sudden shiver down your spine when a joke turns into an order. 

Because your words are so very lovely, that it means something when I take them away. Because your ideas are so wonderfully formed, it’s powerful when I limit you to only those I come up with. Because you’re so beautifully resplendent when you come, it’s the most deliciously frustrating exercise to deny you that moment of bliss.

It’s because of all that you are that I bring you to nothing. 

Sometimes, we just need to be told to shut the fuck up.

(Source: eternalplaymate)

I joked today that sometimes, I will choose sex over breathing.

It’s a tricky dichotomy, that.

When I choose my orgasm over the air in my lungs. When I choose the needs of my aching, dripping cunt over my pulse pounding in my ears. When my hands reach up to the stronger, larger set clamped firmly around my throat, not to stop them, not to fight back, but just to feel them there, relish in the pressure and the strength of those rough instruments against my most delicate, vulnerable parts. When you realize you don’t have a right to breathe, and that you should be thankful when he grants you the opportunity to do so.

It’s a dangerous game to be sure, but if all the players are careful, oh, what a wonderful game it is.

(Source: iluvskinnybitches)

submissiveconfessions:

I, can be very stubborn.

While my heart is purely that of a submissive, my brain, well she’s a whole other animal - one who is fiercely independent, strong-willed, quick to judge, and…stubborn to change. 

Because of this brainly nature, I tend to be one who tests boundaries (repeatedly), I push people to see how far they will let me go, how much I can get away with, and I do not roll over and give in, easily. These last qualities sound like some most would prefer to see in a Dom, but they can reside quite well in a submissive too - one who needs breaking.

I need…breaking.

I…can be quite convincing you know? A few soft whimpers, cute little whines, touching my mouth just the right way, pouting, or showing a flash of anger, and well, I have won this battle. I’m tired of winning. I’m tired of being cute, and coy, and getting my way because someone else caved. I need to know loss. I need to know the anger and frustration of going up against someone who isn’t afraid of me being, well, angry and frustrated. I need a strong hand, and a stronger will, who doesn’t care if I throw a tantrum, threaten to walk away, or look cute - they will stay the course and tire me out, one way or another; because we both know: I won’t really walk away. I can’t. I need this too much. 

So use that knowledge against me. Use it to break me down, inside and out, and show me once and for all, that I’m not a bad submissive just because I’m stubborn or haughty - I’m just a challenging one, and you, well you’re just the sort that likes challenges, aren’t you.

Amen, sister.

I’m another one who’s used to getting away with murder. Here’s to all the Doms who won’t let us!

(Source: gregorystgermain, via contraryminx)