Yeah Sex Is Cool But Have You Ever Felt Worthy And Wanted And Enough The Way You Are

I spend all day working hard and I come home to no praise, no kisses, no half-naked house-girlfriend to bend me over the couch and use me till the stress drains from my brain and then rub my back after?? What am I even living for

want to show a girl who thinks she's unloveable that she's this worlds' greatest gift

stopppppp im going to pass away just thinking abt this

pre-canon dog training

"Mmm, look at you," I coo, my voice thick like honey as I curl my fingers under your chin and tilt your head back, just enough to make you meet my gaze in that dazed, blissed-out haze. "Such a messy little slut. Can’t even stay still, can you?"

You swallow thickly at my words, but your body leans in instinctively, hips shifting, thighs trembling. Hungry. Needy. Mine.

But inside, what I’m really thinking is: You’re divine. Absolutely breathtaking. You ache so beautifully for me. I’ll never get tired of this view… of you.

"My pathetic little thing..." I whisper next, my fingers dragging across the slick heat between your thighs. "You’d do anything for Mommy, wouldn’t you?"

You nod fast, frantic, a high-pitched whimper caught in your throat. Your lips try to form something like a 'yes,' but it’s lost in the moan that spills out instead.

Your tears are threatening now, clinging to your lashes, blinking fast as if your body can’t decide if it’s overwhelmed or overjoyed. Probably both.

And I think: You’re so trusting. So brave. My perfect girl. You don’t even know how much I love you for this. I don’t take it for granted, not for one second.

I press a kiss to your temple. Just once.

Then I pull away again, drag my nails down your spine slow and sharp, just to watch the ripple of your back, the way you arch into the sting. Then before you even know what hit you, I deliver a hard slap. The sound echoes and you cry out, but you don't move away.

"Does my baby feel a little dumb tonight, hm?" I purr as I deliver another sharp smack, watching your body jolt. Your back arches for me, your hips twitching for more. "You’re really are too far gone to even think now, aren’t you?"

You moan. Just a sound, so raw, so open.

"Say it," I order with a drawn out croon. "Say what you are."

Your voice is nearly a whimper. "I’m… I’m your dumb little baby, Mommy… s’too much— but I like it, I like it, I—"

"Shh, I know." I stroke you tenderly, then strike again. Your thighs twitch, your knees buckle slightly, and you sob so prettily.

But in my mind, I’m holding you close: You’re not dumb at all. You’re clever, intuitive, emotionally rich. You let me take you to this place because you know I’ll bring you back. I’ll never let you fall alone.

"Pathetic," I breathe, slower this time, drawing the word out as I rake my nails lightly down your back, over tender, already-reddened skin. I lean closer, tongue trailing your jaw, and murmur against your cheek, "Dripping just from my voice. How filthy is that, my little slut?"

You moan again, helpless. "Mmm… yes... yes... so slutty for you… can’t think, Mommy… just wanna be good…"

I groan softly against your ear. "That’s my girl."

Another slap, and you whimper. Another, and your knees give, but I catch you, always. One arm loops around your waist as I press your back firmly against my front.

"This is what I do to you, hmm? Turn that sharp little mind to mush with just my voice, my hands."

You whimper, voice slurring. "Yours… all yours…"

"Yes, you are," I groan, dragging my hand between your legs again. So wet, so swollen, perfect. I push two fingers in without warning, and you cry out, your body gripping me tight.

"You were made for this," I murmur against your temple. "Made for me."

You nod, whining, "I—I can’t think, Mommy—"

"Good," I say, curling my fingers inside you. "Don’t think. Just take."

You fall apart so beautifully, loud, messy, soaking my fingers as I press my mouth to your neck, whispering filth and praise in the same breath.

But inside, my heart aches with how much I adore you: You're my treasure. My good girl. My everything. You crave the sting because you trust the hands that deliver it. And I will never stop cherishing that.

I slow the pace, fingers still deep inside you, but softer now. I kiss the side of your face, damp with tears.

"You did so well for me," I whisper. "Mommy's so proud of you."

You’re shaking in my arms, lips parted, dazed and spent, and I hold you tighter. Your body is mine to break, yes… but your soul is mine to protect. Always.

As a sadist a huge part of my own aftercare is entangled with the aftercare of my sub. I need to know you’re ok and that I have tended to you in order to tend to myself. I need to know you don’t hate me. That you enjoyed yourself. I need reassurance. I need to bathe you and be bathed myself. To hold you close. To talk about what we did and how we feel. I love to snuggle clean dry warm and naked under a blanket. To watch a movie we’ve seen a hundred times before but that makes us smile, and it doesn’t matter if we randomly chat through it when a thought arises. To have snacks and drinks and all of the comfort items close by. If we can I would spend the night together, because some times drops can happen several hours later once the endorphins have stopped coursing. Let’s just take our time. This part is just as important as the scene <3

Warning! NSFW

To: Wanda

*new snap from Natasha*

Natasha: “she was just in my guts and now she’s playing God of War” *turns the camera on you in a sports bra and bike shorts, controller in hand, and pans onto the tv screen where God of War is running*

Wanda: At least she turned off the game for you. She blew my back out and made me see stars and when we where finished all I hear is “Play of the Game”… DO YOU KNOW HOW BIG THAT GRIN SHE WORE WAS?

there is so much inside of me

and i can't get any of it out

in the ways that i want to.

the pretty ways that won't

make people worried about me again.

there are so many things

i want to tell you,

so many ways that i want to

scream and cry for help,

but i just stay silent,

letting the fear pile up in my throat

until it is gargling my words

away from my tongue

as i try to speak them.

i'm sorry we haven't

been talking as much lately,

it's just been hard to breathe.

hard to stomach the

self-inflicted homesickness,

the extra sting of knowing

that it is my fault that i miss you,

that i'm the one pushing you away.

hard to accept that it's because

i am terrified that if i let you in

you will drown with me.

-mars

need a lesbian to have faux sympathy for me ughh like "aww is it too much baby?" then kiss me on the forehead and start fucking me harder