i’m a thick girl with a major fat-shaming fetish. what do you think of the idea of shaming thick women? and have you done that?

Answering back to front: no, I haven’t, and I’m not sure. I don’t have a problem with it as a perversion, but I’ve never been involved with someone who could handle it, so it hasn’t been an active part of my fantasy life.

As with raceplay, I can see how fat-shaming is a useful means of accessing some really primal insecurities and playing with them, but I don’t write about it much because I don’t want to be clumsy about pushing buttons I don’t fully understand.

Usually when I come across blogs like this, it makes me feel deeply uncomfortable–I’m very much a BDSM enthusiast, but the problem with a lot of blogs is that they get so deep into the “women are fucktoys” fantasy that I’m never sure they actually believe any of the captions they’re writing, which kind of scares me. However, you’re like one of the rare exceptions I’ve encountered. You seem like a sensible, cool person. Thanks for that.

You’re welcome!

There are women in labs right now curing diseases, women in poor cities fighting oppression, women digging sand out of both cracks at military bases in godawful places… I’m not better than any of them.

(Substantially worse, arguably. Okay, sure, I’m probably better at pissing for distance than most of them, but having never been in a fraternity, I don’t really consider that a major factor in determining human value.)

Don’t get me wrong: there are women who, when I call them “cunt”, are meant to feel every cutting letter of it deep in their hearts. But that’s not because I automatically believe women are servile sex cattle… they each have to convince me of it first.

supermodelgif:

Girls’ Love Stories Vol 1 148

Let’s be honest with each other, Trina: you’re a cuckquean. Admit it… your cheek isn’t the only part of you that’s wet right now. You’re just dying to give yourself a couple fingers worth of solace as you watch them get down to business.
Tell me, Trina…. what do you love most about spying on your boyfriend while he picks up groovy ’70s chicks in his abhorrent pants? I’ll bet it’s when he’s talking about you while he’s at it, using you as his standard for inadequacy. Isn’t that exciting? You’re such a disappointment that he can’t stop thinking about you!
It’s almost better than love; while love can fade, disdain is forever.

Is it sad that mostly everything in your posts relates to me and they still get me dripping wet anyway?

Sure, I suppose it’s a little sad, feeling your cunt weep in shame. What of it?

If you relate that strongly to the stuff I write, then your life has probably been tough, and you’ve been through a lot. But if you just let your mind follow your body’s lead, you can pour all of the anguish in your little head into that empty space between your legs.

Once you’ve got it all stored up there, you can trickle the sadness out a little at a time with your fingers, or a man can beat it out of you in great waves with his cock and the back of his hand. Either way, you’ll feel a little more alive for a little while. And that’s not *too* sad, is it?

rape-me-daddyy:

hit me and tell me how stupid i am <3

I’d prefer to hit Bows and tell her how smart she is, only in the most sarcastic tone possible.

“Oh yeah, baby… you’re so smaaaaaart.” SLAP. “You’re such a clever [douchey air quotes] conversationalist [/douchey air quotes].” SLAP. “Your opinions are so deep and meaningful; you’re like Aristotle with pectoral punching bags.” SLAP.

With that said, she does occasionally teach me things; like how low a cunt will let herself go, and how good a girl can get.

I want to be your fucked up toy!!

You’re a ball with sunglasses stuck on, so in a way, you’re already a fucked up toy; there’s no way you’ll ever bounce predictably like that, but I still wouldn’t mind hitting you with a stick and sharing you with my friends.

Note, however, that I’m not chasing after you if we accidentally lose you over the fence. The neighbor has a big dog, and I figure you’d be of more use to him anyway.

It made me cry, reading your posts and realising, I’m exactly the type of worthless little whore you’re describing in them. It also made me cum harder than I ever have by myself.

Good girl, working so hard to accept what you are.

You’ll probably spend more time crying as you come to terms with your internal reality, but the orgasms will just keep getting better. Realizing that you’re worthless isn’t easy, but has its rewards.

Come off anon, and maybe I’ll help you.

Most bitches squirm or thrash when you choke them… but when they’re lithe, they writhe. Even in the midst of an autonomic panic-spasm, they somehow make their own strangulations sensuous and mesmerizing. It’s magical.

Of course, skinny cunt bodies aren’t always up to the more percussive brutalities, so they’re not ideal. But when you just want to make art from the pain of a whore, they’re most exemplary canvases.

Right now, precious… I need you to shut the fuck up! Your brave little resistance routine was cute, but now I’ve got the knife out, and the time for cute is done.

Let’s face it… you’re going to be reliving this moment for years to come. I’m going to scramble all your ideas about sex, break the part of your mind that values itself, and in the process, I’m going to make you cum. More than once. You will never trust anything about yourself again. Ten years from now, the only way you’ll be able to get off will be thinking of me, and you will weep through every orgasm.

So just relax and soak it in. Observe everything; feel every touch and tear, every violation of your body and dignity. If a single hour is going to redefine your life, you should really pay close attention to it.