I admire this but I’m scared of it. The thought makes fear catch in my throat. I think I’m tuned on. I don’t understand it. #trust
My motto is to NEVER GROW UP EVER.
I do like a girl who knows how to put on a show…
Girls - think of something a little bit extreme, and a whole lot perverted, you can do to yourself. Practice it. Then make your man his favourite drink, sit him in his favourite chair, put the drink in his hand, and demonstrate what a filthy, depraved, little whore you are for him. Try to shock him with your dirtiness - lick your fingers and taste yourself, pant and moan load, mutter unspeakable things and depraved desires, spread your flesh and invite him to see within you, come hard, long and loud while he watches. Make yourself the most sexual, perverted, open and welcoming creature in the world for those moments.
Then tell him you are his.
And invite him to do whatever the fuck he wants to you.
I love that someone captured this moment. It’s a moment I’ve seen on many occasions, yet it remains thrilling each and every time. The moment when it becomes real for her. The moment when you’ve finally cut through the bravado, the “I can take it”, the “do your worst”, the “Oh yeah, I’ve got a really high pain threshold.” The moment when this is not a fantasy, not a theory, not something read and masturbated over, but something very real, very visceral, and very now. This is the moment when it isn’t ‘play’ any more, when it isn’t a happy little beating, but… it’s something delightfully more.
When the pain has become too much, when it’s just not fun, when it’s literally becoming torture to go on. When all she wants is for it to stop, but knows deep down she doesn’t have the power to make it stop. The shivering body, the shaking head, the eyes close to tears. This is the time when she realises she may have made a terrible mistake. And the time when things are about to get interesting.
Her ability to control herself, to keep her reactions in check is, to keep perspective and know that ‘really’ she’s safe, is failing. If she could get away she would. Her courage is running out, her willpower ending. She’s about to break.
It’s a sweet, delicious, moment. From here things become so pure, so intense. She becomes a raw never of emotion. It’s not what she imagined, because we cannot imagine such extreme emotion. It’s not what she remembered because we can’t entirely remember these things either… we cannot hold onto them or recreate them in our mind.
This isn’t for beginners or dabblers or those who haven’t educated themselves, but this is where the true journey of submission leads. Really, it’s where the true journey begins. The self is about to break, the illusions are about to dissolve, the truth of things is about to appear.
The dark path to wisdom and ecstasy begins in the moment she says no - and means it - and you press on anyway. That’s the time when you both learn what it truly means to submit.