her: Sorry about the mouth-slobber on the bottle.
me: Mouth-slobber? As opposed to what? Is there another type of slobber I might encounter?
her: I knew I shouldn’t have phrased it that way. I knew it.
me: Stop threatening me with your mysterious lady-drippings.
Category: Conversations
Talking, teasing, manipulating, debating, and delighting
top 5 fav kink blogs
In no particular order (apart from I/D who is my no. 1 fav): @intersectdisconnect, @brat-grrrrl2, @bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls, @babycunt + @deadlittleslut (same person) and @inductionofautosadism2.
It’s always sweet to be appreciated by a connoisseur.
Cute date idea
You tell me that I’m your precious little baby and you’d never let anybody hurt me then you drug me until I become sick and dependant on you.
I’m not sure why anyone would need drugs to render you sick and dependent.
Dear Bedtime
How do you rob a woman of her youth?
Lure her in with a young man’s words, wit, and strength, and then make her watch as your body and mind slowly deteriorate over decades.
Okay, so, apparently, some girls don’t find it flattering when they fish for compliments and you tell them that they remind you of a 1,000 year old red priestess who uses the illusion of beauty to hide the gnarled husk of a woman she is inside.
They’ll agree that your assessment is accurate, but they won’t find it flattering.
So my program has all these young people and they were talking about baby names and I just want to warn you, the rising generation is gonna name their kids some crazy fucking shit.
They’ll regret it. Giving one’s offspring a distinctive name just makes them easier to track online. If you’re going that route, at least name the little fucker something like 01011101; that way they’ll be harder to find, and they’ll be able to greet strangers with “Nice to meet you Sharon, I’m Bi!”
UPDATED: Okay, so nerdy dad-jokes aren’t good enough for you people. Fine, I shall not cast my pearls before swine!
Family Values Theater
“Th-that was my mom. He– um, he died. M-my uncle… he died.”
“That’s terrible, sweetie. Take off your blouse.”
“I’m not— I’m not sure about everything… anything, really, but he was in an accident. In a car. Accident.”
“Oh no, I hope he didn’t suffer. And the bra, too, genius.”
“Didn’t I— what?”
“I said that I hope he didn’t suffer. And told you to get your fucking tits out.”
“Yes. No. I mean— he didn’t suffer. She said it was… instantaneous.”
“Was anyone else hurt? Now the pants.”
“Christina. She— mom said Christina was in the car with him.”
“Is she going to be okay? Those panties are ugly, by the way; get rid of them, or I’ll set them on fire with you in them.”
“Pl-please, no, not now. Can we, please? Not? This is just not—”
“I asked how Christina is doing. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
“Yeah. Okay. She’s in the hospital, on a machine. There’s— I guess there’s swelling or whatever, in her brain.”
“Poor baby. They’re doing amazing things with head injuries these days, so I’m sure she’s going to get better. You, meanwhile, just keep getting worse. I can smell your cunt, way over here.”
“Should I– do I need to shower or something? Now?”
“I wish, but no, I don’t have the time. And no shower will ever really get you clean, will it?”
“I… no, you’re right. You’re always right. I’m sorry I stink.”
“You should be; you really should. So, do they know what caused the accident?”
“They don’t. Or Mom doesn’t, at least.”
“What does that mean?”
“I feel like– it feels like I should be on my knees.”
“It’s that sort of keen insight that makes me wonder how you can be such a constant disappointment.”
copyright © 2016 BedtimeStoriesForBrokenGirls.com
I hate getting wet to shit like this
My favorite kind of mixed review. I love throwing a woman’s libido into a pit with her dignity and watching them fight it out.
I’m done with being sick now can I please just feel better???
I’m literally exhausted and out of breath and had to sit down from walking up the stairs wtf 😔
Poor thing. You must be careful with the girlmeat you wear; if you let it break down, people might get a glimpse of your insides.
And that won’t be good for anyone.
Hoowee! I am getting and answering a LOT of anons right now. What do you guys think? Too much? Am I clogging the blog? I don’t want this to turn into a wall of boring asks.
Go ahead. A wall of asks just gives us something to pin you up against.
Goal achieved
when @bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls tells you that you look good 😏
I’ve been in this corner of Tumblr for what, three years now? And in that time, I don’t think I’ve told more than ten different chicks that they’re hot. Maybe twelve.
It’s a sickness, really. The more someone wants to be told she’s pretty –the more she expects it– the more I want to deny her. I routinely take this behavior to absurd lengths, to the point of alienating some honestly spectacular pieces of ass by adamantly refusing to give them their due.
For better or worse, @tinydoll has figured out how to game the system. Which apparently amounts to little more than continuously sending nudes and then whining until I relent.
Persistence and pouting: two talents that can take a girl anywhere.