I honestly don’t know. I can say I was taught, but not in a fashion I’d recommend.
I was introduced to the concept as a little kid, by an older girl who confided to me about her father’s special hobbies. Beyond the abusive sexuality and Super 8 reels that were de rigueur for ‘70s perverts, he seemed to take great care in crushing her spirit and controlling her mind.… Read the rest “Can a top be taught emotional sadism, or is it something innate you just have to keep searching for?”
You know that feeling when you’re on a diet so you can fit in a fucking dress for a wedding where your ex-boyfriend is a groomsman and you’re really feeling great about yourself and then you get drunk at the bachelorette party and come-to at 4:00am slumped in a booth at IHOP with semen on your thigh and your mouth full of pancakes, only to stumble back to your hotel room, shower, and somehow defy the laws of physics by squeezing into that fucking dress and even more miraculously turning the head of that ex-boyfriend who asks you to dance and whispers in your ear that he didn’t know what he’s been missing right before you spontaneously cut a rancid, maple-scented shart that ruins the fucking dress and makes him see you for the disgusting little weirdo you really are, leaving you standing there alone wondering why you do these things to yourself?… Read the rest “What is a ‘ruined orgasm’?”
I love this. Everything about it. Let me count the ways…
Feeling disgusted with yourself shouldn’t interfere with an orgasm.
After all, I’m completely disgusted with you, and it isn’t going to stop me from getting off.
So I don’t like being eaten out and I don’t actually like being cuddled that much either…
One of my favorite games to play with a girl is Personal Space Invader. It involves randomly hip-checking her into walls, guiding her through a restaurant with a grip on the back of her neck, messing with her clothes or hair in front of people, and making a special point of poking, biting, and otherwise sullying every part of her body that she’d prefer to keep to herself.… Read the rest “Can I just eat you out, beat you up, and then cuddle you?”
Number of times per week she tells me “that’s not helping!”: at least five.
Number of times per week I’m actually trying to help: something close to zero.
It’s ever a challenge, to be good enough at being nothing. To purge yourself of the fanciful delusion that your existence should be more than simply existing. To excise from your bloated, diseased expectations all sense of value, of purpose, of desert.… Read the rest “Mind Over Things That Don’t Matter”
Really? So how are you going to convince me to do that?
It’s kind of a big ask, if you think about it. I mean, to ruin your life would mean alienating you from your loved ones, wrecking your ambitions and potential, weakening your body, and permanently disrupting your ability to feel unconditional love… that’s a lot of work, and a lot of responsibility.… Read the rest “your blog makes me incredibly wet, i just want you to fuck with my brain and ruin my life”
All i want is for someone to beat me, toss me around and choke me until i pass out. I just wanna feel like i have a purpose.
You’re telling me because you need someone to listen. You need to see someone react to the truth of what you’ve become without minimizing it, or rationalizing it, or ignoring it.… Read the rest “I dont know why im telling you this but ive been feeling so empty lately.”
I don’t want to be the one to wreck your world, but I will damned sure chase you through the rubble.
