[butch-enforcer]

About me.

I'm 24

I'm butch, switch with a dom lean, kind of a stone top.

I'm from Europe.

I'm good with both she/her and he/him pronouns.

About this blog.

I'm going to post ns/ft content. It's going to mostly be d/s or butch4femme coded.

MDNI, as in (m)en and (m)inors.

I will block you if you interact with any of my posts/follow me and your age is missing from your blog.

Asks, dms.

Asks: Open.

Dms: Open to mutuals only.

Do not call me Mommy or Ma'am, please use Master.

Tags

nsft posts.

answered asks.

random posts.

Anons

Taken: 💗

My kinks/limits.

Kinks: Nipple play, anal play, orgasm control (as in edging, teasing, denial, long term orgasm denial), joi asks, spanking, overstimulation, dehumanisation, oral, objectification, anything involving straps, pet play.

Limits: Anything illegal, omorashi, scat, knife play, choking, violence, age-play.

I might add more stuff to either list.

[apol0gy-girl]

i close tumblr then go straight back

[butch-enforcer]

You accept nudes and pics?

Hi anon,

I do accept nudes and pics, but I hope you’re aware that what you dm people on tumblr stays on the internet forever and can’t be deleted.

[anotherprettyfemme]

i keep thinking about butches..

about how the world looks at masculine presenting women and decides they must be untouched by softness..as if tenderness only belongs to those who look delicate enough.

but i look at a butch and all i can think is,

does anyone remind you to wear a jacket when it’s cold? or bring you flowers because they reminded them of you? does anyone kiss your face just because you look so lovely and it’s yours?

does anyone hold your hand without expecting it to the always be the steady one?

i want to brush your hair behind your ear knowing you’ll roll your eyes but leave it there anyway..pretending not to notice the heat rising to your cheeks. i want to reach across the table and straighten those rings on your fingers, smooth the crease between your brows with my thumb and watch your shoulders relax.

i want to call you beautiful in the same breath i call you handsome.

i want to look at you the way people look at moonlight streaming through the windows..quietly. like they’ve discovered something magnificent.

not because i want to make you less butch.

because i don’t.

i want every sharp edge, every button up, and scuffed boot. every endearingly crooked grin. every piece of your masculinity exactly as you chose it.

but, i don’t think that masculinity means no one should ever cup your face with both hands..thumb at your cheeks and press gentle kisses across your skin.

i don’t think being the “strong” one means no one should ever ask if you’re tired.

i hope someone loves you in ways that never ask you to become smaller.

i hope someone sees the woman you are and the masculinity you’ve built for yourself and understands those two things have never been in conflict.

i hope someone holds you like your masculinity has always deserved gentleness, too.

[butch-enforcer]

I don’t even know what to say. It’s written beautifully. Thank you for showing us some love and understanding~

[butch-enforcer]

I’m feeling bratty and there ain’t a mf thing you can do abt it!

-💗

That's where you're wrong, 💗 anon.

Perhaps it's time you work on your edging skills. How about 5 edges?

I'm sure you'll be able to complete them just fine. Deep down, we both know you're a good girl.

[butch-enforcer]

You lie on your back, chest heaving as you fight the restraints holding your limbs spread wide across the bed's surface.

Earlier, I'd chosen a pair of padded cuffs you'd eagerly allowed me to padlock shut around your wrists and ankles, unaware that you'd spend the rest of the evening straining against them, wishing you'd put up a fight.

The restraints were the kind that wouldn't leave any visible marks of my ownership. We'd agreed, early on in our dynamic, that I'd only mark your buttocks, inner thighs and lower back.

What a pity.

Your legs tremble as I press the vibrating head of the wand firmly against your swollen clit.

"Please," you gasp, torn between pulling away and grinding against the toy. "Please let me cum."

I chuckle at your desperation as I pull the vibrator away, your spread thighs raising off the mattress in a futile attempt of your hips to chase the pleasurable sensation. "No, darling." You let out a frustrated moan. "Please, it's been-" "No." I press the wand back against your dripping cunt. You whine loudly. "Not yet."

With one hand firmly holding the toy in place, I kneel beside your writhing body. My free hand roams slowly up your torso towards your breasts. I pinch one of your nipples hard, twisting in between my fingers.

"How many times have I edged you, love?" You try to pull away from the sharp pain, but the restraints hold you in place, unable to escape my wandering fingers. "I don't know, Master." You whimper, the edge nearing once more.

"Master please-" I release your nipple from my grasp. "You've been edging me all evening-"

"No." I yank the wand away once more as a pitiful sob escapes you.

"I don't think I've edged you enough." I meet your glazed, desperate eyes and smile. "You aren't crying yet."

[butch-enforcer]

Heyy! I’m 21 who uses she/her pronouns! Can I claim 💗 anon? I can be such a good girl while also having a bratty streak.

Hi, darling. The 💗 emoji can be yours. Bratty streak, huh? Does someone need to be reminded how to be a good girl?

[butch-enforcer]

While pain is an effective tool to teach obedience, there’s nothing better than having a femme or butch perform a specific set of rituals to set the scene. Repetition is key.

I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, legs slightly parted to give you a better sight of the strap hiding underneath my boxers.

You’re leaning against the doorframe, your eyes meeting the bulge in my underwear with a hungry gaze.

I watch you undress yourself in silence.

One of my hands, the non-dominant one, holds your collar. You’ve chosen it yourself.

It’s thick and heavy in a way that reminds you that, once padlocked around your neck, only our safe-word will stop my wrath.

I would have preferred something more strict and uncomfortable, but I couldn’t say “no” as you begged on your knees with watery eyes to choose the collar yourself.

You take your time undressing yourself, neatly folding each garment you’ve removed.

There’s no need to rush. You should take all the time you need to prepare for what’s to come.

Besides, it’s endearing to watch your own submissive slowly transition from a free woman to a pet, ready to be used and tormented for my own pleasure.

Once completely bare, you sink to your knees and crawl towards me.

Good girl. Pets don’t walk, they crawl.

I part my legs a little further apart, allowing you to kneel in between them. You have a staring contest with my crotch, probably trying to anticipate which hole of yours will be stretched open by my length.

You lower your head. “Master, may I please be collared by you?” You ask in the polite tone I slowly whipped int you over time.

“Come here, pet.” I reply.

You lean in just enough to allow me to wrap the collar around your neck and I padlock it shut a little too tight.

I’d trail my fingers across your jaw, forcing you to raise your head and meet my gaze, checking in with you. A brief nod of approval, anticipates my fingers, now sliding underneath your collar to grasp it. “Good girl.”

My other hand frees the strap from my boxers. I chuckle as you gasp softly. “Kiss it, show the strap some love.”