Hihi sir! I need your help, please. I like to think that I am a decent feminist but that seems to stop the second I open Tumblr. I have deleted and re-downloaded it so many times now, I can't stay away. There is just something about condescending posts putting women in their place that leaves me squirmy and weak. I am constantly fantasizing about being talked down to like I am a dummy. Is this just a kink or is this some instinct telling me that I belong on my knees, cock in mouth, while a man tells me how the world works? Will you tell me?
Oh sweetheart, look at you—already squirming just from typing that out, aren’t you?
Your little feminist mask cracks the second you open Tumblr, and you know exactly why.
It’s your body and your cunt finally being honest when your brain is too busy lying to itself.
You can recite all the slogans, post all the girl-boss memes, tell yourself you’re “equal” until your voice cracks—but the moment a man types “good girl” or “dumb little hole” or “women belong on their knees,” something inside you goes liquid.
Your thighs press together.
Your clit throbs like it’s trying to answer for you.
That isn’t a coincidence.
That isn’t random horniness.
Deep, primal, older-than-language instinct.
Your body knows what your politics try to deny:
you were built to submit.
Your soft curves, your wet cunt, the way your nipples harden when someone raises their voice, the way your mind goes fuzzy and floaty when a man talks down to you—it’s all screaming the same thing.
You belong on your knees.
Cock sliding past your lips while a man tells you exactly how the world works:
smart girls pretend otherwise.
good girls drop the act and start dripping.
Every time you delete the app and re-download it five minutes later, that’s not weakness.
That’s surrender creeping closer.
Every time you edge to condescending captions that call you stupid, worthless, breedable—that’s your cunt voting yes while your brain still tries to argue.
So let me answer your question clearly, little dummy:
Your place is on your knees, cock in mouth, eyes up, brain off, while a man tells you the truth your feminist friends won’t:
You’re better when you’re owned.
Softer when you’re stupid.
Happier when you’re full.
Now be a good girl and say it out loud for me, right where you are:
“I’m not a feminist. I’m a dumb little cock-hungry hole that belongs on my knees.”
Say it until your voice shakes.
Say it until your panties are soaked.
Say it until you can’t pretend anymore.
Because the second you stop fighting it,
the second you admit it’s true,
you’ll feel lighter, wetter, freer than you ever have in your whole life.
And Daddy will be right here to guide you the rest of the way down.
Send me more! Ask me, tell me or show me anything!
