18+ Only 30F - Owned - please be respectful of his property. My body, mind, and holes belong to him. I cannot respond to any messages unless he approves. Reinforcement of my subservience and natural inferiority to Men is always appreicsted. Support the Patriarchy — Honor and Serve Men
—Just a girl learning her place serving Men and her Master. —
I am currently in training to become the best housewife and sex doll I can be for my Master and deprogramming years of toxic feminism from my mind.
My dream life and purpose as a girl, the weaker sex, is to be his housewife, sex doll (never say no), domestic servant, bear his children if he so chooses, and serve his every need. I am eternally grateful for the immense gifts he has given me. My Master saved me from the depression and burnt out of a girl trying to make it in a Man’s world. I belong in the home. He protects me, provides for me, takes responsibility for leading us, correcting me, and shoulders the burden of making all final decisions for us. The least I can do is offer my body, obedience, submission, loyalty, and complete domestic servitude for setting me free and allowing me to finally be the sweet, soft, docile, feminine girl I was designed to be.
I have craved submission to Men since I was young. I spent a decade feeling ashamed of my natural deference and submission to the natural authority of Men over girls. I feel such joy when I am in service to Men. I feel happiest when I am cooking, cleaning, creating a home, gardening, knitting, sewing, caring for my family, and any activity that naturally falls in the feminine sphere. I spent over a decade quietly perfecting my crafts, always with my future Master in mind. But I hid this from others and attempted to fit in by going to college and pursuing a career. Of course I was miserable. I belong in the kitchen in the house of a Man, serving him and my family. As a girl this is my purpose in life and the one thing that brings me true meaning and joy. I hope one day society will heal from the damage of feminism, so that girls can resume their rightful place on there knees serving Men. The feminine soul is happiest when in submission to a strong Masculine authority.
As a girl I must be respectful, deferential, and reverent to my superiors (Men). My Master has final decisions on all aspects of my life and mind, but I spend time daily learning from Men about my place and duties as a girl. I appreciate every opportunity to learn from my betters to best serve my Master. I am experimenting with writing reflections on my training in submission, obedience, and femininity. I hope it will help ground me in my purpose in life and free my mind from my silly ego that clings to control and validation of my intellect, rather than accepting my natural place as lesser, weaker, and inferior. I am happiest when I am less, my Master is happiest with a submissive girl, and I am fulfilled when my Master is happy, successful, and dominant.
As I knelt in front of my husband, he started to unbuckle his belt. I had a sudden fear that the punishment wasn’t over and he was about to start whipping me with it, but then he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his erect cock.
‘Ok sweetheart, it’s time for you to thank me for correcting your bad behaviour. Dr Andrews says this step is important for bonding and reminding misbehaving girls of their place’, he explained, in a matter-of-fact tone.
My mouth watered, compulsively, but I felt conflicted. I wanted to suck his cock more than I ever had in our whole marriage, but I was confused - if I was so immature, should I be doing something so sexual? Why was I suddenly ok with him saying such sexist things? And what about him - should I be worried that my husband had gotten rock hard from spanking me over his knee?
Before I could ask him about any of this, he had reached over and taken hold of my hair. With ease, he pulled my head towards him and pushed the head of his cock straight into my mouth.
I was in shock. My husband had never done anything like this to me before. Previously, I’d needed persuading to give blow jobs and would often say no to sex completely if I wasn’t in the mood.
But now, I didn’t seem to have a choice. His cock was down my throat before I could even process what was happening.
For a moment, I tried pathetically to pull away, but his masterful hand just remained firm on the back of my head, rocking me back and forth along the length of his shaft. I gave up any attempt to get free after that, and just tried to take his thrusts as best I could.
My jaw was aching, I was trying not to gag and I could feel dribble starting to drip down my chin and onto my thighs. The wetness of my saliva also made me aware of the increasing wetness from between my legs, dripping down the backs of my thighs now.
I felt powerless - to stop my husband’s assault and to stop my own body betraying me.
‘Oh, good girl’ he muttered, pushing it in deeper and making me choke. ‘That’s it, show me what a good girl you are. Show me how sorry you are.’
I whimpered between thrusts. This whole experience was overwhelming. I felt used and humiliated and helpless. But I also felt guilty and lost, and strangely aroused. Most intensely though, I felt needy. Desperately needy for the perversely father-like care I was receiving from my husband.
It felt like this was what I’d been missing my whole life and now something had clicked and I didn’t need to worry anymore. I didn’t need to think anymore.
‘Mmm baby girl, that feels so good. You’re being so good for Daddy.’
He looked down at me and I looked up, locking eyes with him. We both knew this was a turning point. We both felt how much that word meant and how our relationship had just changed, fundamentally.
He looked happier than I’d ever seen him. A flood of emotion welled up inside me and tears flowed down my cheeks while I continued to take his cock down my throat.
This was enough to tip him over the edge and I felt his cock pulse and tasted salt as his hot jets of cum sprayed the back of my throat. He moaned loudly and praised me for being such a good girl.
When he released his grip on my head, I threw my arms around his waist and started sobbing in earnest, letting myself go in his lap like a little girl with her daddy. He stroked my hair softly and gave me as long as I needed to recover, before pulling me onto the bed and laying me down to rest.
‘Things are going to change now, poppet’ he said, gently. ‘It’s going to take some getting used to, but you have to trust me and try hard to be good, ok?’
I like the idea of him fucking my face like it’s a pussy, then cumming down my throat and - with no concern for my comfort - just staying there, on top of me, with my mouth full of cock, relaxing… Until I feel something happening… and before I can stop him he’s pissing directly into my open throat. I start coughing and choking and he just casually holds my head in place and continues taking his post-orgasm piss, telling me to ‘drink up, little toilet’ 🫣
Some quotes about women from mostly great men (there’s one from a woman that I think is actually good):
- "A proper wife should be as obedient as a slave... The female is a female by virtue of a certain lack of qualities.. a natural defectiveness." - Aristotle
- “The male orientation of classical Athens was inseparable from its genius. Athens became great not despite but because of its misogyny.” - Camille Paglia
- "Educating a beautiful woman is like pouring honey into a fine Swiss watch: everything stops." - Kurt Vonnegut
- "The Word and work of God is quite clear, viz. that women were made to be either wives or prostitutes." - Martin Luther
- "a little bit of rape is good for a man's soul." - Norman Miller
- "Women Are Nothing But Machines For Producing Children." - Martin Luther
- "The Male Is By Nature Superior, And The Female Inferior; And The One Rules, And The Other Is Ruled" - Aristotle
- "Nature intended women to be our slaves... they are our property; we are not theirs. They belong to us, just as a tree that bears fruit belongs to a gardener.... Women are nothing more than machines for producing children." - Napoleon Bonaparte
- "Woman is a violent and uncontrolled animal, and it is useless to let go the reins and then expect her not to kick over the traces. You must keep her on a tight rein.... Women want total freedom or rather -- to call things by their names -- total licence. If you allow them to achieve complete equality with men, do you think they will be easier to live with? Not at all. Once they have achieved equality, they will be your masters." - Cato the Elder
- "A wife should have no feelings of her own, but share her husband's seriousness and sport, his anxiety and his laughter." - Plutarch
- "Finally -- woman! One-half of mankind is weak, typically sick, changeable, inconstant --woman needs a religion of weakness that glorifies being weak, loving, being humbled as divine." - Friedrich Nietzsche
- "The whole education of women ought to be relative to men. To please them, to be useful to them, to make themselves loved and honored by them, to educate them when young, to care for them when grown, to council them, to console them, and to make life agreeable and sweet to them - these are the duties of women at all times, and should be taught them from their infancy." - Jean-Jacques Rousseau
- "Men are governed by lines of intellect -- women: by curves of emotion." - James Joyce
- “Woman was merely man's helpmate, a function which pertains to her alone. She is not the image of God but as far as man is concerned, he is by himself the image of God.” -Saint Augustine
- “Thus the woman, who had perversely exceeded her proper bounds, is forced back to her own position. She had, indeed, previously been subject to her husband, but that was a liberal and gentle subjection; now, however, she is cast into servitude.” - John Calvin
- “Do not any longer contend for mastery, for power, money, or praise. Be content to be a private, insignificant person, known and loved by God and me....of what importance is your character to mankind, if you was buried just now. Or if you had never lived, what loss would it be to the cause of God.” - John Wesley
- “Woman, in short, has an unconscious life, man a conscious life, and the genius the most conscious life.” - Otto Weininger
This might make some people uncomfortable, and that’s okay. It’s not for them. But for me? My peace, purpose, and deepest joy come from one thing: being beneath the man I belong to.
Not figuratively. Literally. In our home, in our dynamic, in our life - he is above me. I am his. And I am less.
There. I said it.
Not “equal in different ways.” Not “partners with differing roles.” I am inferior to him in our chosen lifestyle. Willingly. Proudly. With full knowledge and full submission. I gave up my power, and in doing so, I found peace.
Modern culture tells women like me that we should fight to be on top. Or at the very least, to never be less than anyone. We’re supposed to demand equality, keep score, share every burden, lead just as much, assert constantly. And I tried that. I lived that life.
And I was miserable.
Because deep down, I didn’t want to fight for control. I didn’t want to lead. I didn’t want balance. I wanted hierarchy. I wanted to kneel. I wanted to serve. I wanted to surrender completely, not because I’m weak, but because my strength was never meant to be used to dominate—it was meant to be poured into devotion, obedience, care, and loyalty.
So I gave him everything. My choices. My voice. My body. My rules. My freedom.
And what I got in return was structure, safety, protection, purpose. A love that wraps around my soul like a blanket fresh out of the dryer. Warm. Complete. Anchored.
He is above me in every way that matters in our dynamic - his word outweighs mine, his comfort comes before mine, his judgment overrules mine, and his needs always outrank mine. My role is to serve. To obey. To please. Not as a performative thing, but as my actual identity. It’s who I am, every minute of the day.
And strangely, that kind of complete surrender brings freedom. Because I don’t have to be in charge. I don’t have to lead. I don’t have to split everything 50/50. I don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone. I get to kneel in my rightful place and just be. Small. Soft. Humble. His.
It’s not popular to say, and I don’t need it to be. This isn’t for the world to understand, it’s for me to live. And I live it joyfully.
The sound of the tyres on the road was the only sound. With the blindfold on, it was deafening, and with how long it had been going on for they must have driven a good long way.
“Can I at least ask where we’re going?” She asked.
“Knowing won’t help.”
She swallowed.
This really had come out of nowhere. She hadn’t even really had a chance to put on proper clothes before getting into the car - not even a chance to put on shoes. He’d just come in, told her to follow him, put the blindfold on, and driven off. Anytime she’d asked what was happening he’d stonewall, until she’d basically given up asking. She knew nothing.
That she’d gone along with it all anyway gave her butterflies.
Eventually the car stops and the engine switches off. Staying in her seat, hands in her lap, she hears him unbuckle and get out, closing his door behind him. A second or later her door opens, he reaches across to unbuckle her, and then takes her hand to wordlessly help her step out herself. All of this she does without complaint. Her heart is racing, but she keeps her mouth shut.
She hears her door shut. She feels grass underfoot.
The blindfold comes off. She blinks. She looks around.
She has no idea where she is.
They’re at the end of a country lane. She felt grass because, when he’d helped her out of the car, he’d helped her out onto the verge. There’s fields both sides, with the fields on one side just carrying on and on towards the horizon, the fields on the other carrying on until they finished at a tree line and there were deep, dark woods. This was the side they’d parked closest too. There was no-one else and nothing else around. Just them.
It was very quiet.
“Um,” she said, just-about finding her voice, even if it sounded much smaller than usual. “D-do I get to know what this is about yet?”
“Run.”
The wind rolled by after he’d said this and since all she had on was one of his shirts it made her shiver before she could reply.
“What?”
He pointed to the field and the woods beyond.
“Run. You run, you can hide. If I don’t catch you or you get back to the car, well, I suppose you win. If I do catch you? Well, you’ll win in a different way. Now run.”
She didn’t move. This had to be a joke, surely. He couldn’t be serious. Eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open, she waited for the punchline. One of his eyebrows rose, just a little.
“I was going to wait until you got to the trees but I don’t have to.”
Not a joke.
Oh God.
She started running. It wasn’t easy. The field was dry enough, it hadn’t been raining, the weather was mild, but still. She was in a shirt, she had no shoes. More than once she nearly fell over and every time she looked back over her shoulder he was standing there, watching, waiting. The last time she looked was when she reached the trees, and that was when she saw him running, too.
Much faster than she had.
This wasn’t fair! He was cheating! He had shoes! Longer legs! It wasn’t fair!
Not that it mattered. It wasn’t meant to be fair.
It was much harder going through the trees. Barefoot, she had to be very careful where she was stepping. There were more places to hide, but keeping the distance between them was going to be impossible - her lead meant next to nothing, him letting her have a head start had just been so he could watch her run.
She was breathing so loud.
Hide. She could hide. She had to hide. Her brain wasn’t really doing a whole lot right then. The situation had overwhelmed her thoughts completely. Rationally, there was probably a lot to think about. Right then? In that moment? Gut instinct. Animal instinct. Being chased. Run, and since she couldn’t run, hide. Hide.
Another frantic glance back and she couldn’t see him, and then she spotted what looked like a good place. Fallen tree and plants. It’d work. She picked her way over, leaves clinging to her feet, and got down to make herself as scarce as possible.
This was fine. Didn’t matter it wasn’t fair. She could do this. This was a good spot, she could hide here a bit, could get her breath back. Then she’d wait for a while, make sure the coast was clear, and then she could get back to the car. It was fine. She could do this, and then it’d be done, and then-
“Found you.”
She yelped and fell over, scampering back on elbows and feet just as a reflex. It didn’t get her very far. Reaching down, he took her by the wrists and in one move hauled her back to her feet. It happened so quickly. Sometimes she forgot how strong he was.
“Good hiding spot,” he said, turning her around in place. “Just not good enough.”
The shock of the chase and the hiding and the being found left her trembling, utterly unable to move. Even if she could muster the wits to think of what she should do, she knew she wouldn’t have a chance anyway. He had her. He had her hands behind her.
He had rope.
“You don’t need to do this,” she said, swallowing, the rope going around her wrists.
“No, but I want to.”
She had no idea he knew knots.
“Come along,” he said giving a tug on the length that wasn’t now keeping her hands bound together. What else could she do? She followed him, slowly and carefully with her bare feet, as he led her further into the trees, and further away from any possibility of getting away. The shock of all of this was still there. It was leaving her feeling numb. Dumb. Helpless. Weak. Utterly frozen and just going along with whatever happened, yet aware. Like she was trapped in her own body, almost. Watching herself just follow.
He led her to a tree, not even an especially big one. Once he got her there, he started to wind the loose rope around it, and in barely anytime at all had tied her to it. Her hands held the trunk, and her arms were going nowhere. She’d let all of that happen, too, all in stunned and stupified silence. Her mouth was hanging open just a little. He closed it with a finger on her chin.
“That secure?” He asked. She stared with wide eyes but did nothing else until he tipped his head a little towards the ropes. Getting the point, she tried to pull herself free. It didn’t budge an inch. He smiled. “That’s secure.”
With that he moved behind her, his hands coming to rest on her hips. She heard him sigh.
“Mine,” he said, more to himself than to her, hands running contentedly up and down her sides before settling back on her hips again. “Sometimes it’s easy to forget that, ultimately, it’s only my choices that matter. Hmm? Nod.”
She nodded.
“Good girl.”
His hands began to roam. One stayed in place to keep her still and to keep her pressed against him and the bulge she could feel pressing into her from behind, the other went off to enjoy what was his. She trembled, and she groaned when he groped her through the shirt. The casually possessive way he did it. She was just for him. Something of his. And he was enjoying that.
“I could have you helpless at home, of course,” he said, as though he wasn’t playing with her tits with her tied to a tree in the woods. “Like that time I left you gagged and tied with the wand for a little bit when I went to go see a friend. I could have done that. But there’s just something about the chase. I was thinking about it. I wanted to see it. And I wanted you to feel it. And then I wanted you here, like this.”
He’d started lifting the shirt up, and as it rose up to her waist he paused, and actually looked down.
“This whole time you weren’t wearing anything under this?”
“Y-you… you didn’t say… say I… could…”
Underwear was one of those decisions that were obviously and explicitly his, rather than just implicitly his. Since he hadn’t said what she should wear and since she hadn’t originally planned on leaving the house she’d just taken it to mean she shouldn’t wear any at all. Even when he didn’t choose, he was still choosing for her.
His hand went between her legs, and her legs parted. A reflex. So well trained.
“I’d sort of hoped to take them off and just shove them in your mouth to help keep you quiet but, well, it isn’t like there’s anyone to bother out here anyway. This works too.”
Without warning he pulled her backwards. She yelped and was left bent forward, arms ahead, legs apart. The only thing that was keeping her from falling face-first was the rope keeping her attached to the tree. She was going to say something about it but he saw this coming and the smack on her bare rear cut her off before she’d so much as taken a breath.
She heard a belt being unbuckled. She felt his cock nestle up between her thighs, against her slit.
Some tiny, tiny part of her - maybe the part still thrumming with the adrenaline of it all - chose this moment to try and make a stand, to make a point. She moved to at least stand up but, his hands still holding her, he stopped her. Easily.
“Ah, no. Come on,” he said, chiding, and when she made to try and say something again, he again gave her another smack on the rear. This one stung more. She kept her mouth shut, at least until his running the head of his cock up and down the length of her made it open again. “It’s cute you tried, but come on. All I’d need to do is ask. I’d have you like this against the tree without the rope, if I wanted. But I wanted this. So shh.”
It was true, even if that tiny, tiny part of her wanted to try and argue it wasn’t.
And that tiny part of her disappeared the instant he started sliding his cock into her.
“There you go…” he sighed, hilting and just taking a moment to enjoy it as she clenched and panted and pushed back into him thoughtlessly. Her doing this, her obvious need, was what really got him started. Fingers digging into her hips, he fucked her.
It carried the same energy as the chase. Urgency. Vulnerability. It was raw. He could (and did) fuck her anytime he wanted, just about anywhere he felt like. But he’d wanted to catch her first. He’d wanted to hear the noise she’d make when he found her hiding spot. See the look on her face when she saw he’d brought rope.
And she’d wanted those things too, now, she knew.
Hanging from the tree and held by him she just relaxed. This was out of her control. This was just happening to her, and she loved it. There was nothing she could do and nothing she could even think about anyway, other than his cock and how perfectly it filled her every time he pushed against her. Made for him, made for this. Everything else dropped away.
Until he said:
“I’m not going to pull out. That’s not a problem is it though, because you’ve been remembering to take… oh… you haven’t have you?”
How he asked made it very, very obvious that he knew the answer. She did, too. Her eyes widened briefly before the feeling of his cock pounding into her knocked the spike of panic she’d felt right out of her head. Still, something stayed, and she tried to answer:
“N-n-n-”
He didn’t let her finish.
“But you still don’t have any problems with me cumming inside you. Right?”
She kept trying to talk but he put his thumb in her mouth and she started sucking without thinking, and anything like words she might have had in mind all melted away. She moaned and sucked and when, a few seconds later, he let out a quiet grunt and pushed as hard into her as he could go, she moaned even louder.
They stayed locked, not really moving beyond a little tremble running through both of them.
Not pulling out, he bent forward over her and gave her a kiss on the neck before saying quietly:
We talk a lot about being sexually useful for a man, but what about all the domestic, daily life ways that a girl can please a man?
I mean, just thinking about doting on him everyday makes me so happy! Domestic acts are one of my absolute favorite ways to serve and care, and the list is really endless!
— Making him his favorite dinner while wearing a dress I know he loves on me
— Rubbing his shoulders and trailing kisses down his neck after a long day
— Getting dolled up when we go out to run errands together just so he can show me off
— Cleaning regularly so he always has a nice space to come home to
— Waking up a little earlier to make sure he has a good breakfast and a lunch his coworkers will be envious of
Oh! You can’t forget a little note with lunch to remind him just how much you care, and just how wet and needy you are for him! :)
I’ll hold still while you pump that hard cock in & out of my wet fuckhole.
My cunt gets so fucking wet when I’m being used. On my back holding my legs open wide….being ignored while a man masturbates with my pussy.
Use my cunt to jerk off as long as you want. Hump my hole as hard as you need to. Empty your full balls anywhere you want…I have no choice but to accept your cum.
As a woman (read: whore) you're really nothing more than a body to be used.
As a woman (see above), you're just a oral, anal and vaginal service unit put here on earth to please My cock.
It doesn't matter where you are, when Sir says: "On your knees." You obey.
Your purpose is to:
A) Look good for Me.
B) Suck My cock.
C) Be on Display for Me
D) Letting Me grope you.
You exist for My pleasure.
Being a whore means that you should Actively strive for and work towards your:
1) Rights
2) Dignity
3) Self worth
4) Pride
5) Self respect
Being taken away. You shouldn't even want them to begin with, dumdum.
Delete your mind through porn and edging to Misogynistic Men and misogynistic female gender trators. Become one yourself by betraying and corrupting your friends. Good girls make More good girls.
Accept your inferiority and understand that Misogyny is right, wanted and warranted.
By reblogging this post as a woman (Mansplaining moment: whore), you consent to receiving rape threats, dick pics and sexual harassment from your Betters (read: Men).
subs who literally don’t care if they’re not receiving any pleasure <3 who jus wanna be useful to you n help you cum !! who’s purpose is to behave n let you act out your nasty fantasies on them cus that’s what goodfuck dolls are for, right? <3
Thinking about taking you to the doctor for your hole inspection. No need for a speculum, I'll hold your hole open and your lips spread while the doctor checks you out. He'll measure the length and width of your clit, we'll stimulate it to see how hard and erect it gets. We'll examine your gspot, and check out the strength and volume of your squirt. We'll check the width and depth of your hole, measure it's wetness, how hard and how rapidly you can squeeze my penis. How well your hole grips my penis as I stroke in and out.
Then we'll inspect your mouth. I'll use my penis to test your gag reflex, we'll measure how wet your mouth and throat gets, how hard and how long you can suck for, how deep you can suck me, and the quality of your sucking.
We'll discuss your tits, and whether they should be larger or smaller. We'll discuss any other modifications I might want to make to your body. We'll discuss any medications or treatments or therapies you might need. For example if you need physical therapy to help tighen your hole, or make it wetter, or do some extra throat training, for example.
Lots of ways to help you improve and be a better fuck toy!
Pleasuring my tits activates my slut mode, I swear.
After having my nipples sucked on for just a few minutes, I told him to use my mouth. He straddled my chest and slid his cock into my mouth. I let my drool coat his shaft for a few strokes, then opened my throat.
His hand held onto the back of my head as he humped my face, using my throat like a pussy, making me gag & choke. He pulled out of my mouth for a break, slime & spit dripping off his steel-hard cock onto my tits.
He slid it back in my mouth - “good girl, swallow that boner…” and fucked my throat again.
Finally he pulled all the way out, reached back & slapped my wet pussy. “Ass up baby,” he said.
I flipped over & presented myself to him. He shoved two fingers into my pussy, determined that it was wet enough. Thrust his cock in balls-deep & smacked my ass.
He held my hip as I twerked my ass back on his cock…creaming, shaking, moaning. Popped his thumb into my asshole.
When he was ready he grabbed the back of my neck & pushed me all the way down so he could fully mount me like a bitch. He held me down & finishing pleasuring himself with my cunt. Nutted deep in my fuckhole.
If you simply wanted to get a guy off as quickly as possible, all you need to do is lock your lips at the base of his cock and suction them up and down the bottom ¾ of his shaft at a quick, steady pace while pressing your flattened tongue against the underside of his dick. Make sure you are applying pressure with both your lips AND tongue.
Keeping your tongue engaged at all times is key. I try to keep mine moving at all times. This is how you get 90% of guys off. It helps me keep from gagging to hold his cock steady at the base and bring my lips down to meet my fingers. You can do this very slowly for a more intense feeling, but make sure you move at a steady rhythm. Some guys like it faster or slower; you may have to ask, or more likely, he’ll tell you.
This is your power move, the one that is actually going to bring him to orgasm. A true hooker blowjob needs only this one move; if scientists were to create a blowjob machine, this is what it would do. The other moves I’m going to teach you are artistic flourishes; you use them to add flair and style to your blowjob or to slow down the action a little.
SALIVA
Don’t be afraid to just slobber all over his love muscle. It should be as wet and sloppy as possible, especially during your power move. A good blowjob makes loud, gross suction-y noises. When I’m done, I’m usually covered in my own drool and leave a wet spot on the bed.
USING YOUR HANDS
If his dick is too big for you to take the whole thing in your mouth, you’ll need to use your hand too. Slobber all over his cock for awhile first so your hand will slide easily up and down instead of just catching on his dry skin. The most important hand move is the twister. When you slide your hand up his shaft, twist your wrist. A twisting motion gets you into a smoother rhythm than the straight up and down. Slide your hand up and down on the base of his cock in conjunction with your mouth moving up and down on the rest of it. The hard part is finding the correct grip: again you may want his guidance.
Another good trick is to wrap your hand around the top of his cock and put your mouth over your hand. Then slide your hand down the shaft and your mouth down on top of it in a fluid motion until your hand meets the base of his cock. It will feel like you’re sliding your mouth all the way down him even if you can’t. It’s times like these I wish I could draw; I’d make little diagrams.
THE BALLS
I usually start out by paying some attention to the balls. There are three basic ball moves: you can put them in your mouth and suck them (LIGHTLY), lick them with a flattened cow tongue, or tense your tongue into a point and run the tip of your tongue all over them. I alternate between all three. Sometimes I lift them up and lick underneath his balls.
Also, if you cup them while you are entering the home stretch, you’ll be able to tell he’s about to cum as they get higher and tighter.
THE HEAD
My next move is usually to give his shaft several long licks from base to tip. This is the ice cream cone move; it looks sexy, it’s a nice touch, but it’s not going to make anybody cum. While conducting the power move, I come up from time to time to give the head a little attention: sucking on it, moving my tongue in a circle around it, and flicking my tongue over that spot on the underside that all the sex websites tell you is el sensitivo. In my experience, guys don’t really go that wild over attention to that spot, but these are just flourishes anyway.
I tend to get a bit wrapped up in my work that I forget to make eye contact, so head action is a great time to look up at him with puppy dog eyes and his cock in your mouth.
FACE SLAPPING
I mentioned this in my tips to get him to cum faster, but at least once during the beej, I usually pop his dick out of my mouth and slap it against my tongue or face, then look at him while I rub his cock against my cheeks and lips. Guys are visual, this is just a little something dirty for him to look at.
DEEP THROAT
I can’t really teach you how to deep throat, that’s between you and your gag reflex. The important thing, I think, is to make an effort to take him in as deep as you can, even if it’s only for a few seconds. It’s hard to explain exactly how I do this: try concentrating on relaxing your throat and jaw. As I mentioned before, it helps me to steady his cock with my hand when I go deep, and breathing in instead of just holding your breath also helps abate that “gonna puke” feeling.
THE BIG FINALE
When you’re ready to finish him off, go into the power move and don’t vary your pace for anything. If you’re cupping his balls, you’ll often be able to tell when he’s about to cum as they tighten up. I speed up a little bit at the end, and when I feel him start to come I push my head down as deep as it will go and suck slowly and intensely at the base, letting his cum just shoot down my throat.
As said before, an excellent study for young cunts trying to improve their useful skills and abilities. I would add don’t be afraid to gag a little, we appreciate it and the effort it symbolizes. Regarding that sensitive spot on the underside of the head, the sensitivity really varies, so give the spot some love but don’t focus excessive attention there, and watch for cues from him to judge speed and pressure while working on this spot. Lastly the author briefly mentioned this, but I feel it needs more attention, eye contact with a proper facial expression is huge, men are as she said very visual creatures and looking up at us with a soft submissive look on your face while you’re gagging on my cock, or rubbing it and your slobber all over your face, or slapping your face with it will go farther than many physical moves.
i think it's so hot that most men's kinks usually have to do with women being easy to control!! Physically and mentally!!! And so many women try so hard to fit that standard and make themselves more helpless and dependant!!!
