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Learn Your Worth
Posted:Jan 23, 2018 4:06 pm
Last Updated:Jan 23, 2018 7:46 pm
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Learn Your Worth

There’s a quote I heard a long time ago. You may have seen it printed on pretty backgrounds before.

“When you learn how much you’re worth, you’ll stop giving people discounts.”

They’re potent words, and they come to mind most often when I am here on Tumblr. There are a thousand posts about vetting a Dominant, and a thousand more about how to spot abuse. Yet still, seemingly every day, someone lands in my inbox torn apart, feeling paralyzed and unable to walk away despite finding themselves in a field of red flags.

We all know that everyone is flawed. It’s common knowledge, and I’d wager that you’re probably eager to dismiss the flaws of others. If a friend tells you that she hates that scar on her arm, you’re likely quick to tell her you don’t even see it anymore, and that she is beautiful. But what about when it’s you? You’re probably not as quick to feel a flaw doesn’t diminish your own worth.

We justify bad behavior by telling ourselves that we’re not perfect either. We settle for abuse and poor treatment because we see our flaws more glaringly than others do, and don’t feel that we deserve better.

We see our flaws. Some real, and many imagined. I think you’ll note in the coming examples that these aren’t really all ‘flaws’, but that’s often how we see them when they belong to us. We allow them to diminish our worth. We demand less because we feel undeserving.

But, I’m fat, and I should feel lucky he’s attracted to me at all.
But, I get anxious in social situations and it’s hard for me to go out.
But, I’m emotional and I cry about everything.
But, I get depressed and no one wants to be with someone like that.
But, I’m needy and no one wants to give someone that much attention.
But, I don’t have a great career, I should be thankful they don’t mind I’m broke.

Everyone has imperfections, but what I came to say today is that there is a difference between imperfections and manipulative and abusive behavior. One does not excuse the other. Don’t let the existence of imperfections let you believe you don’t deserve to have your needs met.

Attention is a need. Communication is a need. Respect is a need. you deserve to have your needs met. No ‘if’s, no ‘and’s, and no ‘but’s. Know your worth, and stop giving people discounts.

pleasurewhore~
7 Comments
Silence As Punishment
Posted:Jan 23, 2018 4:49 am
Last Updated:Jan 23, 2018 2:56 pm
556 Views
Silence As Punishment

Earlier today, I once again came across a post on a popular blog that mentioned silence as punishment. It seems to be a common misconception that this is an appropriate way to deal with misbehavior. I’m going to step up on my (admittedly very tiny) soapbox today because I want to talk a bit about why withdrawing attention is not a suitable as punishment. Not once. Not ever.

Punishment should about bringing the submissive back to the Dominant, not pushing them away. It should be a way to bring the focus back to the dynamic. Most submissives can tell you that the guilt of disappointing their Dominant is the very worst punishment. The physical and material acts of punishment are an outward expression of these emotions.

A person who is ignored learns not that their actions were inappropriate, but that they, as a person, are undeserving of affection. It may seem effective in the short term, because the submissive will return to the dominant, seeking affection and affirmation, but the damage is already done. The doubt is already placed… “they love me, not because of who I am, but because of how I behave.”

Submissives… demand better. Educate. Make yourself heard.

Dominants… if you’ve made this mistake before, step up, overcome ignorance, and learn to do better.

“Failure is the opportunity to begin again more intelligently.”~ Henry Ford

pleasurewhore~
9 Comments
A Quiet Mind...
Posted:Jan 22, 2018 12:29 pm
Last Updated:Jan 23, 2018 2:26 pm
812 Views
A Quiet Mind...

@cynicaldom asked me to pick up the kitchen while he picked up the living room. He finishes before I do.

A few minutes later he comes out of the bedroom with handcuffs. I had items in my hands, intending to put them back where they go. He removes them from my hands. “I’m not done yet..and you asked me to do this.” I think. He cuffs me. He leads me into the bedroom. The Hitachi is on the bed. I’m eager at the idea of cumming. It’s been a while and I’ve been stressed. The relief would be really nice. He removes my bottoms and panties.

He has me lay down and I hear him getting in the toy drawer. I’m not really in the mood for spanking. I want an orgasm. I peak at what he’s pulled out. The flogger. I let out a little whine. I don’t like the flogger, but I don’t like much of anything other than his hand. Maybe he’ll start off softly at least. He doesn’t offer me the Hitachi.

The first few blows aren’t too bad. The third or fourth is much heavier. That was no warmup at all! This seriously hurts! I say nothing. He goes down my thighs a bit and I wiggle all over the place but try my best to return to position quickly. Just as I think I have grown accustomed to the heavy hits from the flogger he switches to the whip. I really hate it. It’s heavy and it stings. More than stings - it leaves a deep burning sensation. I try so hard not to move around. I know how much this hurts if it wraps around my hip or thigh. I don’t want to cause a blow to land incorrectly. I’m self-conscious of how loud I’m being but I try to stay still. I ask if he will please bring me a gag and he does. I’m so thankful. It’s a relief to have something to bite on and yell into. It lets me breathe a little because I have an outlet for the intensity I’m feeling. I don’t have to fight so hard to stay composed.

He switches back to the flogger and I breathe a bit easier still. It now feels kind compared to the whip, although it’s heavy. It’s easier to stay still now. A little bit of pride bubbles up inside of me. I’ve got this. I don’t think anything is funny but for a few seconds, an involuntary laugh escapes my lips. Ordinarily, I would fixate on something like that, why did that happen? Why did it feel like I wasn’t laughing on purpose? That was weird?? …but none of these thoughts enter my mind because my mind is quiet. I’m not thinking about anything other than taking what he gives me. It doesn’t matter why I laughed, not at all.

He uncuffs me and offers me the Hitachi. I take it happily but I don’t wonder if I’ll get to cum or not. I hold it against me and he flogs me for a bit. Really solid swings now, I feel the weight of each blow deeply but I’m not gritting my teeth. It feels good now. “May I please cum, Daddy?” I ask as I feel myself getting close. He says no. I lift my hips from the Hitachi to stop myself from tipping over the edge. There is no whining or fussing in my mind. I don’t need an orgasm anymore like I thought I did. Almost immediately he switches back to the single tail. It still really, really hurts but I do a better job of holding still. I don’t know how long it is, but the urge builds up again. I ask for permission to orgasm and he says yes. The orgasm feels nice, but the new mindset feels better. I hug him. “Thank you for using me, Daddy.”

As I go back to the rest of my day, finish picking up the kitchen, then contemplating what else needs to be done, and this peace remains. The noise I had been hearing for a few days is gone. I make choices more decisively and confidently. The doubt, the 500 options and the worry that comes with them has largely lifted. I have a quiet mind.

amysubmits~
6 Comments
Everyday Ownership.... (A Story That's Quite Long)
Posted:Jan 21, 2018 9:25 am
Last Updated:Jan 23, 2018 4:31 am
1330 Views
Everyday Ownership.... (A Story That's Quite Long)

*****

I open my eyes to find him still laying beside me. We’re not touching, but our bodies are close, and I can feel his warmth radiating, and I can smell him. He smells of faded cologne… of sweat… of us. The scent of sex is heavy in the air and makes me ache for more as I watch his chest rise and fall in slow shallow breaths.

My hand is drawn to him, magnetized by the familiar need for touch that’s nestled deep inside me. I place it on his chest softly. Suddenly his hand clasps over my own and before my mind has a chance to process the movement he is on top of me, straddling me, face hovering over mine with a silly smile. “Not sleeping,” he chuckles with a wolfish grin.

Moving to find my other hand he tugs them both overhead, pinning them to the bed at the wrist, trapping me beneath his weight. I smile up at him, teeth finding my bottom lip in the trademark of nervous anticipation. My nipples respond to the shiver that runs through me by contracting and pulling upward toward his naked body.

Leaning down and pulling at my earlobe with his teeth “Good morning Beautiful,” he whispers to me.

“Good morning Master,” I coo with a soft sigh, feeling the familiar bulge that accompanies his waking pressed against my belly.

Releasing my hand he slides down between my legs and my heart sinks down into my stomach with him. I exhale sharply, need suddenly ignited, blazing between my thighs as he pushes them apart to make room. My lips part from each other, exposing me to his view. I feel a cool breath across my hot sex, and my insides tighten in response.

“Ahh,” I sigh, turning my cheek to rest against the soft cotton of the pillow beneath me.

A kiss touches my inner thigh. He kisses me again a bit higher. Again. He lays a trail of them up toward my sex until his nose is nestled in the crook of my thigh, cheek against my smoothly shaved sex. In a sudden shift from affectionate lover to Master, “Tell me what you want,” he demands, lifting his head up to meet my eyes.

“I want you to lick me,” I blush.

Shaking his head slowly side to side, “Oh my little fucktoy, you can do better than that.”

“I want your tongue on me,” I sigh, “I want to feel your mouth on my pussy, I want you to taste me.” A small hesitation. “I want you to make me cum,” I admit.

“Mmm, you want to cum for me?” he asks with a raised brow and a wicked grin. “Your wish is my command.”

He rises off of me slightly before adding, “I’m so very happy to make you cum my love.” Though the words are soft, the tone is sinister. It chills my blood and the shiver that follows contrasts with the heat between my legs in a most delicious way. I squirm beneath him, pressing my legs together.

He touches my hands, still held overhead, together. I clasp them. “Stay still,” he commands. Crawling to the edge of the bed he props a pillow behind each of my knees, leaving me to spread open and moist with anticipation. “No moving,” he warns again, eyes hungry as they devour me sprawled out before him.

Soon his lips are on me. I feel a soft kiss on the inside of each thigh. “Mine,” he claims them. Then his lips are at the protrusion of my pelvic bone at each hip. “Mine.” His tongue thrusts into my belly button. “Mine,” he declares. I giggle.

Pulling my pert nipples one at a time into his mouth, tongue running over them, “Mine,” he claims each. Two fingers between my legs graze over my tightest hole, pausing to push against it momentarily before pulling through my wetness. He holds them up with childlike exuberance, “Mine,” he grins. Pressing the fingers to my lips, thrusting them gently into my mouth, watching as I suck my wetness from them. “Mine,” he concludes with a chuckle.

I lay trembling. I want to wrap myself around him, to pull him into me, but not as bad as I want to obey. To show him how truly his I am. He reaches for the box on the nightstand, and though I dare not lift myself up to look, I hear a click followed by the familiar hum of a vibrator.

He nestles it between my lips, against my clit, and slides a single finger down my sex, pressing it against me. His movement is agonizingly slow and when I scoot down, trying to speed his progress, he laughs and withdraws. “You aren’t in control here. You are mine. This is mine,” he clarifies, shoving his finger firmly into me, and pulling it out just as quickly, “You’ll feel me when I’m ready, and not a moment sooner,” he scoffs, but his face is soft.

With that he runs his finger around my entrance, it tugs at the skin, stretching it, pulling outward in a circular motion. It stings, and I groan. Bringing another finger beside the first he slowly presses the pair into me.

The movement is glacial. It seems an eternity before they are fully inside me. They simply sit within me motionless. I crave their movement, but I keep my hips still, willing myself to steady them, my teeth digging painfully into my lip as I hold them down.

His eyes smile up at mine as he holds the vibrator firmly against me. With his other hand, he thrusts his fingers violently in and out of my wetness. The sudden shift in pace elicits a shriek, and I grab hold of the comforter in an attempt to prevent the force of his movements from sliding me up the bed.

His pace is mercilessly steady. The combination of the humming vibrator and stretching of my taught pussy around his fingers soon brings me to the edge of orgasm. The only tether keeping me from falling headfirst into release is the fear of doing so without permission, the marks on my backside barely faded from the last time I came without his say.

“Oh god,” I pause for a ragged breath, “Please Master, I need to cum,” I admit simply, unable to form a better argument in my current state.

His only answer comes in the relentless pounding of his fingers against the supple flesh of my cervix as he pushes against it. His fingers are a weight pulling at me as I struggle to hold my head above the waters of release.

“Beg,” he commands.

“Fuck! Why won’t he let me cum?” my inner voice screams back at him, but I hold my tongue.

Drawing a breath deep into my belly I release it slowly, trying to steady the shaking of my body before opening my mouth. With desperation in my voice I offer my plea, “Please Master, please let me cum. I need it. Your fingers feel so good inside me, I can’t take it. Please. Please…” the last word muffled by a gasp as his fingers press firmly into me, holding there.

“You need it?” he questions me, “or do you want it?”

The time for a reply is lost in a moan as his fingertips wiggle against the slippery protrusion of my cervix. “I love watching you squirm,” he tells me with a chuckle. Returning to his movements, “You can do better. Tell me what you are.” he commands.

Struggling to form words between pants, “Yours!” I shout, “I’m your little fucktoy.” The words have become a part of my identity. As much ‘me’ as my pale blue eyes, and fair skin.

“What do you want little fucktoy?” he teases me.

“I want to cum for you,” I manage to eek out.

His eyes narrow, his tone more forbidding than his words, “Don’t you fucking dare cum until I say,” he warns.

A whimper and the writhing of my body is the only reply I manage as I try desperately to obey. My arms shake with the effort of holding my hands to the sheets above me, I want to grab at the sheets, to dig my nails into them, but instead, I squeeze my tightly laced fingers against each other. I’m not sure I can resist any longer, my body is a traitor stalking pleasure like a ravenous animal.

My breath holds in my chest and my mouth falls open in the moment before release. His eyes meet mine, fury, and warning painted across his face. He withdraws his fingers and clicking off the vibrator places it beside me.

“Not yet little fucktoy,” he tells me firmly.

Crawling over me, hovering above me he bites at my earlobe. Hard. It stings and I pull away. Grabbing my chin he brings me back, leaning down to soothe the sting by pulling my earlobe into his mouth.

When he stops he meets my gaze. With lips close enough I can feel his breath on me, and his erection pushed against my sex, he grazes my cheek with a loosely curled fist. In this moment I am his and he is mine. My Master. I fear him, but he is also cherished and I can’t shake the love from my gaze when I look at him. Even when he is pushing me to do the uncomfortable. Even when I am begging or crying love sits there in the blue laced blackness of my eyes.

“You are so beautiful,” he tells me.

I open my mouth to speak, but before my lips can form the words his hand is on my nipple, twisting fiercely and the words are lost. Instead, an “Oow!” falls from my open mouth as I wince.

He slides down me and somehow reaches to my side and produces a silver chain I know well. Dangling from each end is the sharp-toothed clamps I fear. He knows what they do to me, the lengths I will go to avoid their bite, but he grins anyway as he brings the first to my right nipple.

I shut my eyes and groan as he extends the pinked flesh away from me and the metal teeth bite at me. Giving the chain a soft tug he moves to do the same with my left side before tugging at that one as well, ensuring a firm grip.

My eyes gloss as he tugs. The bite of the clamps brings no pleasure, only a sharp punishing pain that makes me want to remove them. They tempt me with disobedience. The urge to release them, to move my arms from overhead and relieve myself, is strong, but looking to him again I hold myself still as his lips meet mine in a hungry kiss.

The slow torture of my nipples has ignited a fire inside me, fanned by his kiss. His closeness allows me to breathe him in. It’s the same scent that laces his pillow, and that ragged sweatshirt that I love to borrow. It is so uniquely him and I want to carry it with me always. I murmur a soft “Mmmm,” of satiety. When our kiss breaks he places the chain between my lips.

“Hold this for me?” he asks with a smirk as if I would dare deny his request.

I nod my head with a tiny movement.

“Is that a yes my little fucktoy?”

I nod again, but as I do I feel his hand reach into my blonde locks and grip my hair firmly, moving my head farther so that it bobs violently in an exaggerated nod. The chain pulls taught each time my head raises and tears are pooled in my eyes as he releases me.

He growls a low guttural sound as he drops between my legs. I lean forward to watch his descent, drawn by both desire and the fear of pulling at the chain again by laying my head back. His mouth finds my sex and he hums approval at my taste as he slips his tongue between my lips, parting them further.

His tongue, smooth and firm, runs through my wetness and settles flat against my clit where he begins to lap at me. Slow strokes over the swollen protrusion that make me insides clench. My eyes roll upward before closing, body trembling. So eager to cum that the sheer will needed to tether my hips to the bed, of forbidding them rising to meet him, is enough to draw any attention not given to his touch.

I swallow hard, trying to tame my excitement, my insides clenching violently as he works his tongue over the slick wetness of my pussy. The edges of my world fading like that of an antique photograph, leaving him and his mouth the only clear image at the center.

Lost in ecstasy I forget the chain in my mouth and throw my head back against the pillow. I instantly regret it as I whimper and lift it once again. My nipples ache even when the tension is released. I hear him laugh against my sex at the sound of my pain, but his tongue works to soothe me and the mixture of pleasure and pain fueling the fire burning in my belly.

His left-hand touches me and two of his fingers slip into my slick opening. I groan. He reaches for my left arm with his right, grazing my underarm to let me know I can lower my arms now. Immediately and instinctively my right hand is on his head, working the short hairs between my fingers as his tongue lashes over my clit. 


I cling to the bedding with my free hand, trying to hold myself to this moment. The feel of his tongue on me. The way my body quivers. The way my insides tighten around his fingers. I want to pause time and live here in this moment.

As much as I try to resist, when his fingers curl into the ‘come hither’ motion inside me, beckoning me to release, I begin to lose control. My breathing turns to long pulls of air punctuated by held breaths. My legs are shaking when I finally speak between moans.

“Oh god, please let me cum, you feel so good.”

With that, he withdraws his fingers and his tongue stills. Instead of bringing me the release I crave his mouth closes over my clit, teeth digging gently around it, before releasing me. As he moves away his tongue runs over me once more and he groans his satisfaction.

“I’m going to fuck this,” he tells me thrusting his glistening fingers back inside me, “and this,” he smirks running them over to the tight bud of my ass, pressing at it until the tips of his fingers disappear into me.

“You’re going to be my good girl and I’m going to let you cum for me,” he assures me as he raises back up over me, cock pressing to my slit.

His eyes wide and expression hungry he grunts as his cock pushes between my folds with a jerk of his hips. Reaching down with his left hand he positions it at my entrance. Pushing just enough to lock it inside me, “Is this what you want little fucktoy?” he asks.

“Yes, Master. Please fuck me, please let me cum for you,” I reply. My plea slurred as it passes the chain between my lips.

His hips move forward, the thrust sudden and greedy. My slick insides yield to him and I groan at the sudden stretching of the taut skin around him. The effect of his cock inside me is immediate and I feel that familiar ache growing in belly.

There is no slow buildup, no gentle teasing, no loving glances. Just the steady relentless movement of his hips against me. It’s primal. animalistic. My body responds to it in a way that surpasses comprehension. I want him.

“No, you don’t want him,” my inner voice scolds, “you need him,” it tells me. With that, my hips rise to meet him. There is no longer any willpower left for stillness. I know he can hear the change in my breath, since the way I hold the air in my lungs as he works his cock in and out of my eager little cunt, because once again his body stills just as I teeter at the edge of release.

I sob beneath him. A silent and tear-less cry.

A smile dawns on his face and he moves his cock, covered in my wetness, against my ass. Meeting my eyes he waits for me to steady myself and draw a deep breath. I nod subtly to him and he presses forward as I exhale.

The pursed ring of muscle opens around him, granting him entry into me. I draw another lungful of air and repeat my push. There is an overwhelming pressure as he buries himself deep inside me.

I feel embarrassed. Ashamed. Owned.

His greed for my body speaks to something deep within me and I sigh as he begins to move. He reaches for the vibrator discarded beside me and lifts it up with a devious expression.

“Oh little fucktoy, you are so perfect like this,” he tells me as he brings it to my entrance and pushes it effortlessly inside me before clicking it on.

His hips move again. Cock sliding in and out of my ass, his body pushing the vibrator into me, insides humming with the vibrations. I cry out. Restraint cast aside as I whimper loudly, hands digging into the bed-sheets, eyes tightly closed, chest heaving.

“Cum for me,” he hisses through his own grunts of pleasure.

I need nothing else but those words, the ones I have been waiting to hear before my insides clench around him. I scream out my release and feel his cock become trapped inside my ass with each wave of clenching tightness as I cum for him.

Before my pleasure fades I hear his grunts and see the way his body tenses as he empties himself into me. The warm cum flooding my tight hole, pushing out around him as he continues to fuck it. He moves inside me until we are both sated before falling to my side, pulling the toy from within me as he does.

He groans as he reaches over and takes the chain from my mouth before releasing my tortured nipples with his right hand. Tossing the clamps aside he soothes the skin with gentle caresses. His arm wraps around me and draws me against him. He places a gentle kiss on my temple and murmurs a quiet “Mmm”.

I blush and giggle like a child on Christmas morning when he kisses me, laying my head against the softness of the bed.

" Thank You, I breathe"

pleasurewhore~
2 Comments
Night and Day ...
Posted:Jan 21, 2018 4:06 am
Last Updated:Jan 21, 2018 4:47 pm
1426 Views
Night and Day

A while back I was awake before @cynicaldom in the morning. He had spanked me the day before, but I was really craving another. I had also been denied orgasms for a couple days. As I heard him stirring in the bedroom I ran in to cuddle with him and massage him. Before I had managed to ask about a spanking, he gave me a task to complete if I wanted to orgasm that day. Being asked to work for an orgasm is rare for me and the task was not an easy one. It was just more than I was expecting. Frankly, it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but before I said anything he kept going. “If you complain I am going to spank you.” He was matter-of-fact and brisk.

I dropped my head into the crook of his arm, hiding my face and snuggling him. I was so embarrassed. His warning made me realize that I hadn’t been in my best place. He threatened me because he expected me to whine and complain. I don’t want to whine and complain about instructions to be my default. I don’t want him to have to scold me first thing in the morning like that.

We lay cuddling for a while and talking about other things. I remembered that I planned to ask him for a spanking. Yet here I was, pep-talking myself about serving better, whining less, resisting less, listening more quickly - all because he had threatened to spank me. It occurred to me how that might seem really bizarre to outsiders like he was threatening me with something pleasant. I guess it is weird how one act can feel so dramatically different depending on the circumstances, but the difference feels like night and day to me.

Part of the difference is that during punishment they are more physically painful, and I’m not a very good masochist. I think it’s more than that though, I think most of it comes down to my mindset. My sexual desire plummets if I discover that I’ve displeased him. When he spanks me for fun there is a glow in his eye as he removes my clothes. He’s eager to show ownership of my body. He’s hungry to watch my yelps, squeaks and squirming turn into sighs, hums, and stillness as my busy brain slows down and enters subspace. When he’s hungry to spank me, I’m so eager to lay down and let him at me, even though it hurts.

When it’s for punishment, his demeanor is solemn and he has a stern look on his face. I try not to look in his eyes because it just hurts to see his disappointment. I can feel through his body language that he’s doing what he has to do so we can move on. He’s just taking care of business. It’s really like he’s headed out to a job that he doesn’t enjoy. It’s usually unspoken but the feeling is so heavy in the air. When that feeling is between us, I just can’t be turned on. My heart longs to please him, so I submit to the punishment because I need the clean slate, I need to cry and apologize to release the guilt.

amysubmits~
4 Comments
Let Go...
Posted:Jan 20, 2018 12:09 am
Last Updated:Jan 21, 2018 5:52 am
1931 Views
Let Go

Step to the edge, reach out to me and let go.

Open your mind, quiet the chaos and let go.

Embrace your darkness, own who you are and let go.

Feel your body, trust in my touch and let go.

Free your will, get lost in my service and let go

Let go, dark angel. Your wings have carried you far. The day is long but night has come and it is time to rest. Put down your burden and let me take you up in my embrace. The night is mine and I will carry you through it. When once again the day is here you will, once more, take flight. Until then sweet lady…

Let go.

1sadisticlover~
4 Comments
Some Sub needs... (they don’t say out loud)
Posted:Jan 19, 2018 4:04 am
Last Updated:Jan 20, 2018 12:04 am
2390 Views
Some Sub needs... (they don’t say out loud)

1. Please touch us

Cuddle us, spoon us, grab the small of our backs. Kiss our foreheads and make us feel small. We crave your hands all over us. We love them no matter where they happen to land–be that on our asses or up our skirts.
Just. Touch. Us. It reminds us that we’re yours.

2. Take pride in us

Relish in the fact that we’re yours–that we belong to you and no one else. Smile when we enter the room because you know we’re walking toward you. It lets us know you care. It makes us want to be better for you.

3. Let us cry

When we are sad or angry, or pissed the hell off. When we drink too much…especially when we drink too much, let us cry our eyes out. Let us be messes, with mascara running down our cheeks and pints of ice cream in our hands. Let us be okay with not being okay once in a while. This one requires no action from you, just that you be okay with it when it happens.

4. Forgive

Despite how hard we try, we will make mistakes. We will fuck things up, say things wrong, do things crazy, and when that happens we need you to forgive us. We’re not talking immediate forgiveness, or that a price won’t often be paid for it, but forgiveness that comes eventually. We need to know that the slate has been wiped clean, all trespasses have been forgiven…and when it happens, don’t forget to let us know. See number 5.

5. Communicate… often!

We need this.. If we don’t discuss something, it will fester in our brains forever, eventually driving us crazy. A three-minute conversation could ease hours of worry for us once uneasy feeling sets in. If that can be prevented with a few sentences, please take the time to speak them. Honestly, like two seconds of your time could stop our heads from exploding….and you don’t want to clean up that mess, do you?

6. We want you to make us feel pretty

Not that you don’t make us feel super sexy pretty darn often, but once in a while, it’s good to actually hear. Tell us our ass looks great in our yoga pants, that our hair looks especially shiny today. Tell us you like our new boots. Notice something small and compliment us about it, and our hearts will swell for days. Compliments let us know what it’s like to look through your eyes. Those are glimpses of the world we don’t often get to see.

7. It’s the little things

Some of these are sounding cliche, but are just so fucking true. Sure, your big gestures of grandeur are admired, but it is often the small things that get our cheeks turning red. Leave a note on the mirror in the morning telling us to have a great day. Sit next to us during a movie you have no desire to see. Take the dog out in the morning so we can sleep in for an extra 10 minutes, remember what ice cream we prefer to eat when we cry. If you do these things, we’re yours for life.

8. Remember things

Speaking of little things, try to remember them. Things like how we take our coffee and the name of that bitchy girl who sits next to us at work. Remember anything. Three weeks from now, bust out some silly story we told you over dinner one evening in great detail. Remember something we’d never expect you to store into your internal drive. Remember our first concert together, and our best friend from kindergarten’s name. The more obscure the better.

9. Deal with us

When we’re singing in the car. When we drink too much wine. When we completely melt down. Deal with our pasts, and when we don’t feel pretty. Deal with our stretch marks and insecurities, our early bedtimes and exhaustion. Deal with our mood, and how we load the dishwasher the wrong way. These things silently tell us that you’ll be by our sides regardless of how nerdy, silly or utterly hopeless we can get.

Finally, the most important thing we need from you that we’ll never say out loud:

10. Be the most stable thing in our lives

Be stronger than us. Be the one person in our world that won’t turn on us or walk away. When life becomes scary and confusing, and we just need something solid to hold onto, please be our anchor. It’s because of you that our awful days are easier to get through. Don’t be perfect. Just be there. It’s the only real requirement on this list.

pleasurewhore~
9 Comments
Structure Is.
Posted:Jan 18, 2018 1:57 pm
Last Updated:Jan 19, 2018 3:53 am
2497 Views
Structure Is.

..
Structure is knowing what to expect. It’s the security of concrete rules. Rules that are not only for days where I feel like being obedient, or he feels like enforcing. It’s his refusal the let an infraction slide despite my being tired, or distracted.

Structure is routine in the face of a turbulent life. It’s feeling his presence, even when he can’t be there. It’s a rule for what to do in case of X, knowing Y is non-negotiable, and that Z is only allowed when A, B, and C are complete. It’s finding peace because the burden of the mundane is managed.

Structure is consistency despite our moods. It’s pressing in when we’re feeling frustrated. It’s taking the next step despite sadness, because the rules are constant. It’s the firm knowledge that anger will not drive us apart because structure tethers us together.

Structure is the blinking beacon of a lighthouse in the storm. It’s visible through the fog of emotion, busy schedules, and uncertainty. Structure is the light that calls me back to my place at his feet.

pleasurewhore~
5 Comments
Gone But Not Forgotten (Rainy Day Mix)
Posted:Jan 17, 2018 11:31 am
Last Updated:Jan 18, 2018 1:40 pm
2936 Views
Gone But Not Forgotten (Rainy Day Mix)

* Give Me Love ................George Harrison
youtube.com/watch?v=s-KAvPbO8JY

*May This Be Love ..............Jimi Hendrix
youtube.com/watch?v=gpmeYPhh6Ks

*Fell On Black Days .................Chris Cornell
youtube.com/watch?v=FIcB3htOLw4

*Wild Is The Wind ..............David Bowie
youtube.com/watch?v=VbpMpRq6DV4

*Jungle Land...........Clarence Clemons *E Street Band
youtube.com/watch?v=DIFpapdaMvw

*Never Tear Us Apart............INXS.(Michael Hutchence)
youtube.com/watch?v=yyZU4iNRdsM

*The Wanton Song ...........Led Zepplin (John Bonham)
youtube.com/watch?v=iaFK6AHhU8s
3 Comments
Confessions.
Posted:Jan 17, 2018 3:25 am
Last Updated:Jan 18, 2018 11:36 am
3064 Views
Confessions.

I think that the best thing D/s has shown me is that @cynicaldom really, truly accepts me. I still forget sometimes, and I’ll try to keep things to myself thinking “I can’t admit X”. Sometimes just because I think he’ll disagree, or won’t want what I want. Sometimes Most of the time it’s because I’m ashamed or embarrassed. I think that whatever I want or like is selfish or weird. Sometimes it’s something I wish I didn’t need or want. Or something I wish I didn’t feel. Whatever reason I have for thinking I can’t tell him, it’s untrue. And I can’t really hide my truths from him anymore even when I think I want to. I can delay it, but sooner or later I can’t help but share. We’ll have great sex or maybe a beer or two and we’ll be talking at 2 am and it all just spills out before I have time to over-analyze what I’m admitting.

I imagine I’ll fight the battle of trying to guard him against my ugly parts, at least what I view as my ugly parts, for years to come. I’ve learned this lesson many times already, but I find that I have to keep learning it. I accept the truth a little more each time. I can strip myself naked physically and emotionally and he won’t run and hide. He won’t even wince. He can handle seeing all of me, my scars, imperfections, flaws, shortcomings, insecurities, sexual desires, ugly tears, all of it. And he’ll still want me. He will still choose me.

amysubmits~
5 Comments

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