Do girls actually enjoy being fingered or is that a myth?

Depends if you know the difference between summoning a genie and stuffing a chicken.

Greatest analogy ever

Unless they get so wet that tape just drops off. Then you have to keep them down on the floor or make them put something under themself everytime they get on the furniture. @seen-not-heard

I like it when he cums and I don’t. I like it when he cuddles me when I’m still horny. I like the shame that accompanies those cuddles: a part of me wants his hands on my cunt, a part of me hates him for keeping me denied and desperate, but a greater part of me hates myself for needing him and his cuddles and his dismissal of my needs. I like that I’m fucked up enough to find safety in the arms of the man who delights in driving me crazy.

Yes! We don’t actively deny me orgasms or anything. I don’t have to ask to cum as a rule unless he’s specified to the contrary. If I’m alone and I want to touch, I can. But @hand-that-feeds doesn’t care about my orgasms in the least. When we’re together we’re both focused on him and his pleasure. Mine isn’t a focus at all. When he’s finished, if we’re cuddling, I’m always so fidgety because I’m so horny and wet and messy and I can’t ignore it. He just laughs at me and says he likes me desperate like that. Which makes me more horny. It’s infuriating and he finds it hilarious - he gets pleasure out of it, so that’s how we do it.

Still amuses me thinking about it now. She’s such a writhing mess that sometimes I have to make her sleep on the floor so I can get a good night’s sleep.

Because being made to sleep on the floor lessens my arousal 🙄

When they leave your life under a dark cloud it is so easy to shower every good deed, loving sacrifice and happy memory under a storm of anger and hurt. It saturates and spoils everything until all you see is the monster they never were.

Let’s imagine that feminists utopia. The land of equality. Where all the things that you think matter are granted. Equal pay, equal opportunities and sexual harassment eradicated. You can have whatever you want. But it will always be a fake skin covering up a harsh reality. Whilst you might be getting all of the things you want, the truth is that it’s because we give it to you. It’s a gift. We are humouring you. Whenever we tire of this silly little phase you are going through we can take it all back because there will be nothing you can do to stop us.

You bring this on yourself. You force my hand. I don’t enjoy being the bad guy. I don’t like how your friends disapprove of me. I don’t like being the abuser. I keep telling you to be a good girl but you keep fucking up. It seems your memory only lasts as long as the reminders I leave on your body so from now on I will remind you every day. You break my heart as i write the rules beneath your skin. You hurt me as the skin breaks on my knuckles. I do it because I know you are better than this. I do it because I care.

I know you don’t like the things I make you do sweetie, but if I didn’t do them to you I would have to do them to your mommy. You love your mommy don’t you? You wouldn’t want her to do those disgusting things would you? What would she think if she knew you wanted her to do those things? Maybe she would stop loving you. Don’t worry, I won’t tell her about your selfish thoughts. We can keep everything our special secret.

You were always so hungry for more, so eager to beat the Jones’. You wanted more likes, more reblogs, more shock factor. Thats boring. We’ve seen it all before. Your red ass cheeks, your knife selfies, your toilet licking gifs. It excites the one handed tumblr users I suppose, it impresses the noobs… but there is more. The part that excites me is the slow process. The breaking down of someone until they are a shadow of their former selves. Doing things that seem normal to you that you would have been sickened by, even outraged by, a few months before. You are going off of the rails at a terrifying speed and you don’t even know it. You are admitting things that you were too ashamed to admit to yourself before. You don’t think of it like that though. You see it as trust. He’s that one guy you can talk to. You have fallen under Lucifers spell but he wouldn’t hurt you. This is different.

I know what you think happened but would I lie to you? I think you must just be mistaken. You’ve been under a lot of pressure. You get confused so easily. You’ve been tired. Lay yourself down. That’s why you have me. I will look after you. I will create your reality. I accept your apology.

You have exceeded expectation this time. I mean I know you are a fuck up but I never realised just how incapable of basic function you really are. Everytime you screw it up I fix it all again for you. But what if I don’t this time? What if I just let you live with the consequences of doing things your way? I’ll just cast you aside and let you rot in the festering mess that you create effortlessly. I can do better. You know that, right? You already compare yourself to all those other girls. What do you offer me? You eat a little too much, cry a little too often and no matter how expensive that makeup is, you’ll never turn heads. So now we do this my way. Only my way. Your last hope. You listen, you obey, and you finally get to know what being useful feels like. I will make you better than you ever did. I know what you need. I am what you need. I am all you will ever need.

Yes, of course I’ve noticed how pretty she is, but I was just being friendly. You have no reason to be jealous. None of my previous girlfriends got jealous. But I’d rather you were happy than me, I’ll tell her you don’t want me to be her friend anymore. You don’t want me to? I knew I could help you see sense. Sometimes you can be so silly. Dry those tears and help me choose a nice shirt to wear when I meet her tonight.