If you’re feeling guilty and yet continuing to play with yourself, then I have achieved my mission. I can think of no more refined pleasure than making a woman I’ve never met complicit in her own degradation.
This lesbian anon is not the only one in this case. And your answer turned me on so much I really don’t understand myself anymore. I am a feminist as well as a lesbian and yet I am so happy I found your tumblr.
I’m glad you found me, too.
My guess is that “what you are” is still a lesbian feminist. Doing or feeling something contrary to your character doesn’t instantly negate that character. Maybe you’re just a hypocrite, like most of humanity.
Personally, I think hypocritical girls are hot.
Respect reality enough to know better.
The Gift
I wanted to do something really special for our first wedding anniversary, and now that you’re all strapped in, I can let you in on the surprise I’ve cooked up. Listen very carefully.
See, after I found out you were adopted, I hired someone to track down your birth parents. The process took months, but my guy finally came through! Turns out, your birth mom moved to Oregon and became an accountant, with a loving family and a mortgage; seems like a perfectly normal person. Your birth dad, meanwhile, never left the area, ending up an alcoholic with a violent rap sheet and a long string of failed marriages.
I tracked him down at his favorite bar today, pretended to bump into him, and got him even more drunk than usual. After we’d knocked back a few, I showed him naked photos of you, and told him it was his lucky day; I’d square his substantial bar tab if he’d come to my house tonight and fuck my wife while I watch.
He took me up on it, and he’ll be here in five minutes, baby.
I wonder if he’ll recognize a bit of himself in your eyes?
Don’t be glum, darling. Let’s face it: you were worthless as a person. You were stupid, boring, and shallow… a meaningless life, really. No one cared if you lived or died, including you.
But now you’re a thing on a leash, and every indignity you suffer is a point of pride for the man who owns you. When you stop to think about it, isn’t that more than you deserve?
What’s more fun, taking advantage of a pre-broken girl, or finding someone who’s still perky and happy and well-balanced and fresh and breaking her?
This undoubtedly speaks volumes about me, but I’ve never had intimate knowledge of a Polly Pureheart. Even as a kid, I attracted the quietly freaky chicks, the ones with the smiling faces that hid all kinds of squirmy secrets. The authentic Good Girls and I just never seemed to cross paths.
And we’re all probably better off for it.
what’s your ideal girl?
Someone who knows when she’s beaten.
The Vic
Sgt. Williams sat in the darkened evidence room, the only light coming from a recording playing on one of the precinct’s aging video monitors. He moved his hand over his cock in perfect rhythm with the thrusts of the on-screen perp, watching the victim struggle in terror.
She was so beautiful like that, reduced to nothing.
Later, when he re-interviewed the vic, he avoided her gaze; partly due to the guilt he felt over what he’d watched and enjoyed, but mostly because he couldn’t afford to be seen leaving the interrogation room with an erection. The video, he had come to suspect, was consuming his soul, but he wouldn’t let it have his career. Not with retirement so very close.
Much later, as he sat in his idling car outside her building, his fingers absently toying with a handful of flex-cuffs and a roll of duct tape, he tried to talk himself out of it. He told himself that she wasn’t special, that watching her humiliation hadn’t been a life-changing experience for him, that everything he yearned to do to her was profoundly wrong.
But somehow, he just didn’t find himself very persuasive…
In the right situation, that’s actually one of my favorite sounds.
Don’t judge her too harshly; she learned to suck cock well enough, but no one ever taught her how to grieve.