My secrets. Shhhh...

“I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.”

It had a special lock, but you had a key. The first time you went in, you thought it would be weird. But the first photo you saw, you realized you were seeing you through his eyes. You saw what matters to him, and you saw what he loved about your appearance. You noticed the absence of your insecurities.

The pictures gave you a sense of how delicate he saw you as. Very. Others showed the eagerness of your submission. Some had you as a 90 style Playboy pinup. Maybe a little more spread leg. Just showing off how fucking hot he saw you as.

If she sends you nudes don't show them to anyone

- someone leaning over and buckling my seatbelt

- tying my shoe for me (especially if you pat it afterwards??)

- zipping up my jacket

- making me hold ur hand before crossing the street

- handing me my water bottle to make me drink it

- slightly condescending nicknames

- moving me by my belt loops/waist

- “why don’t you be a good girl and *instructions*?”

- brushing my hair out of my face

- opening my drinks for me