Archiveofabrokenpast

can I please have a soft love with an aggressive and kinky undertone

I would love it if I had a partner to share my somnophilia kink.

I’d love to tell them how much it would turn me on if they challenged themselves to see how much they could do without waking me up.

Can you finger me open?

Could you slip your dick inside?

Could you start with slow, gentle thrusts?

Would you get confident and cocky and start picking up the pace?

If I started to moan or whimper or starting to stir, would you slow back down again until I settled back into a deep sleep?

Would you prefer that I wake up with your cum in me and that’s how I know we fucked or do you want to eventually intentionally startle me from my sleep so I’m half-awake, disoriented, but so incredibly turned on?

Syntax matters.

“Would you get me a beer?”

is a world away from

“Get me a beer, please.”

The first is a request to which she might easily (and logically) reply, “no.” The second is a polite direction. The speaker assumes his request will be granted. It is easier for her to comply than to construct an argument or a valid reason for refusal.

What’s more, the first version causes her to doubt you. The man who says “Would you get me a beer?” isn’t certain. She’ll sense this, even if only on a subconscious level, and it will turn her off ever so slightly. Whereas “Get me a beer, please,” might rub her the wrong way at first–how presumptious of him!–it will also activate her internal drive to please, or at least her inner compulsion to avoid conflict. In the end, if you use the second way, you eliminate the need for her ever-spinning female brain to process your uncertainty. You make it easy for her to comply. You remove part of the decision-making process. In the long term, she will appreciate it. And you’ll get your beer.

2016.12.23

Gotta keep em on a leash Commission for @spicedrumocs

My Final Thought

After seemingly endless deliberation, I’ve decided that I must part from this blog. I know I just recently stated that I am nearing a return to writing, but such a path is not feasible for me at this time.

This blog has taught me a lot. To those with whom I have conversed, I thank you for your time. To those of you that derived pleasure from my writings, I am glad that I was able to help you along. To any that I have been unpleasant with, I sincerely apologize.

Last but not least, to any faithful followers or glancing newcomers, do not expect an expedient return or quick change of heart. This blog was deeply intertwined with my alcoholism, which I denied, and a failure of my own conscience to see right from wrong. Suffice to say, I must disconnect from this environment of unhealthy desires for my own sake.

As an ending note, I say the following:

Prioritize your mental wellbeing and stability over all else. Not a thing in this world is more important than your time. Spend it wisely. The clock is ticking whether you hear it or not.

Farewell, Tumblr.

I’ve used to never understand why this turns me on. Seeing my girl cleaning the floor like in this picture.

Maybe it’s the maid outfit with those heels that I love seeing her wear. While I admit these do turn me on, there’s something else there. There’s something different inside me that I feel when she’s cleaning the floor, versus just wearing these particular clothes. She could be wearing a baggy t-shirt with sneakers, and I would still be turned on by her act.

Maybe it’s about her following her rules. Giving your girl a routine that she obeys and follows. She is the keeper of the house, and I give her a layout of how to keep it and when she does it. I am certainly gratified when she is obedient in this way, but I see my girl doing laundry, or doing the dishes and don’t have the same feeling. She simply performs a task she’s been given.

Maybe it’s really a low level of my sadism. I know, and she knows, that there are quicker, easier and better ways to clean a floor. Yet, she cleans it this way. On her hands and knees, cleaning the lowest part of the house, in a more physically demanding way. I’m a sadist, and she loves it. There are far more brutal ways for me to exact my will to hurt her, and she knows it. But having her do a tedious task like this for me to watch, both of us knowing that it will be tiring and painful after not too long? That is what turns me on.

As much as my blog currently focuses on sadism, extreme control and fantasies, and so on, it is only the tip of the iceberg of what I wholly believe.

This is a beautiful post. Nothing makes me feel right and nothing makes me feel at home more than a soft, feminine woman.

Femininity

I don’t think anything makes me feel more feminine, more dainty, or more beautiful, than when I’m submitting to a man, more specifically, Daddy. I truly, get to let go of all societal expectations, of being a “strong independent woman” and just let the more primal side take over, my femininity.

My submission oozes femininity, and I’m not just speaking in terms of being sexual, I’m talking the day to day, the more mundane moments in life, where subtleties in our dynamic are there, but no one else really notices. I become more soft spoken, more lady like, I choose my clothing based on his preferences, choose my words more carefully when in his presence. See, his dominance is heavy is masculinity. He believes in traditional gender roles, just as I do, which is why our dynamic works so well; my femininity would be nothing without his masculinity, and vice versa.

I want him to be proud to have me, as not only his submissive, but his girl, his woman.