MDNI, 18+ May post more than I thought. sharing my naughty thoughts. Liking a lot of posts. Trying to stay under the Tumbldar, lol.I will lurk and heart posts. 40s/M. if you want to chat, msg me.
If you’re a cunt and you’re reading this, slap yourself. Then repost it.
If you’re still reading and wondering if you should slap yourself, let me make it easy for you. Look between your legs, if there’s a gash there, you’re a cunt. Now slap yourself TWICE for being dumber than usual and repost this.
Do it, slap yourself. Better yet, do it then message me to thank me for making you be such a dirty slut and degrading yourself for someone on the Internet.
Telling someone my trauma and them getting off to it is one of the hottest things ever. Them rubbing themselves to me struggling to convey all the details of what happened to me because I trust them and them turning around and copying it just because they get off to me being heavily triggered. I want someone to learn all my triggers and just rape the shit out of me while im having a panic attack, maybe even trying to mimic my abusers while still being themselves at the same time. Making me touch myself while i recall the worst parts of my life, recording it, ans using it as blackmail so they can abuse me more
I'm a little (a lot) shy so I'd rather start with anon, but I have a big confession. I've never orgasmed before. Not sure if im doing it wrong or what. Any advice?
Just take your time. Tease your clit. Play with your nipples. Work up to it. Don't be afraid to update me. Come back and let me know how your progress is going. Tell me more about yourself?
It's the arrogance. The way he walks into a room and takes up space like it belongs to him. Like you belong to him. He dismisses your opinions, talks over you, assumes he knows better just because he's a man and you're not. It's toxic. Outdated. Everything you've trained yourself to reject.
You hate how he ignores your boundaries. How he crowds you, backs you into corners, pins you against walls like your resistance is just foreplay. You hate the way he looks at you when you try to push back. Like he's waiting for you to tire yourself out.
You hate how he shuts you up. His hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your protests die in your chest. The way your voice comes out thin and breathy when you try to argue and he just squeezes until you stop.
You hate how he shoves you down onto your knees. How he tells you it's where you belong and you want to scream at him, want to fight, want to prove him wrong.
You hate that you don't.
You hate that the sound of his belt unbuckling makes your mouth water. That your pussy is already wet before he even touches you. That some broken, traitorous part of you agrees with him when he says you were made for this.
You hate how your brain just... stops. The moment his cock pushes past your lips, the moment he hits the back of your throat and holds you there, everything goes quiet. All the anger, all the principles, all the reasons you should bite down and walk away. Gone. Just him and you and the sounds of him using your mouth.
You hate that your hand always finds its way between your legs. That you rub yourself to the rhythm of his thrusts, getting off on your own degradation, dripping onto the floor while he groans about what a good little cockslut you've become.
You hate that you don't want him to stop.
You hate that when he finally cums down your throat and you swallow every drop... you're grateful. Grateful and desperate for him to do it again.
You hate that he made you like this. That somewhere along the way the hate turned into need, and now you can't tell where one ends and the other begins.