Here’s a possible version of simple D/s cowgirl instructions:
“Get my cunt up on this cock. I want to watch what a needy little slut you are. You just get my property up there and do your thing. You will make my cunt feel good. Do you understand?”
“When you get close to cumming, count down how close you are, outloud from 3. (1 is if you breath too hard, she cums.) I’ll tell you when and if you’ll cum for me. I’ve got all the the time in the world, so you just get busy making my cunt feel good. Now, show me!” (Followed by a say a nice slap on the ass?)
Adding in some throat grabbing, hair pulling, nipple torture, or face slapping during her performance can certainly Dom/Domme things up a bit! [EXPRESS CONSENT REQUIRED PRIOR TO THIS SCENE]
But then again, why not tell her to pull, pinch and twist her own nipples until you hear her telltale whimpers?
Is that Dominant enough for you?
Just a thought …
Sincerely,
Me
This almost seems too dumb to be true butttt apparently some “ doms” have an issue with their property servicing their cock by riding on top. All I can say is to these “ doms” please dont play with sharp objects and rope .. sub lives matter too #
Hardest thing I’ve ever done is His mirror scenes, body image training.
Fuck, I’d rather light myself on fire!
The first set of instruction is a comprehensive written list of all the parts of my body I currently “hate” with details about when it’s the worst (position) or intrudes into my focus. And then I have to give Him the list. He spends days with the list. Asks more questions.
Then comes the instructions for training day.
Forced to look, listen, experience…
To endure grabbing, pulling, squeezing parts that life, aging, and gravity have been less than kind to. To see all those parts from every angle. To not be allowed to look away, not a moment’s respite.
Once the sobbing subsides a bit, He describes what He sees, showing me the curves He focuses on, the sensations He feels.
He takes His pleasure in every form imaginable while I watch. The mirrors not only show me me, but His pleasure, His undeniable lust, even while grabbing and enjoying the parts I hate. (I’m an evidence based kinda girl.)
There is an overriding theme, a mantra . .
“I am perfect for Him.” That I am never more beautiful than when I’m on my knees or in the moment I have surrendered my being to His to receive the gift of erotic pain or am put to use pleasing Him.
A quote from Him: “Little one I refuse to fucking to compete. I will have you, you will give me your complete surrender and focus. I will not abide a competitor. And right now, I’m competing with your inner critic. We will do this as many times as it takes. I will break this distraction and have your complete focus. I will not accept competition.”
And in the end, I am broken and he remakes me. Remakes me to come before Him truly “naked and unashamed.”
@submissive-seeking I’m so glad I found your blog. Your writing is so concise and eloquent. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve cried reading your words as they put me, empathetically, behind the eyes of a submissive.
It just makes me understand the importance of my role and responsibilities that much more. It fills me up and helps bring me clarity of how much I mean and how valuable the gift of submission is.
Your words make me want to be the best me and that’s just damn fine work. I’m learning so much.
“Don’t play games,” he said softly, his fingers tangling in my hair. “You can be a badass boss bitch in your own office, sweetheart, but you’re on my time now, and I know what you really want. What you need. And I intend to give it to you, but only if you ask nicely.”
The grip of his hand in my hair became iron, tugging me down to my knees, my lips, parted in surprise, were inches from his cock, and I looked up him with dazed hunger. He smiled.
“There now,” he soothed, stroking my hair away from my face. “All you have to do is say `please’.”
“Please,” I murmured, rubbing my cheek against his cock through the fabric of his pants.
“Please what?” he taunted, holding me back.
“Please, Sir,” I added desperately. “Please let me suck your cock.”
“Good girl,” he acknowledged, leaning back in his chair. “Yes, you may.”
🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 @firefly-flashes writes some of my favorite submissive tales
I would really like to get facefucked right about now.
I don’t need to cum. I don’t even need to get touched.
Just his cock, sliding in and out of my mouth, his hands on the back of my head setting the pace. I want him to use my mouth for his pleasure until he explodes.
He is talking to me and painting a picture of himself for me to admire. Telling me about his life in a way he thinks I want to hear. I play along. But I know this game. I let him play it anyway. You own me.
He has good points. He is funny and he makes me laugh. His fingertips feel nice on my leg as we chat over drinks. I remember how they felt inside me. He remembers things I told him months ago. He is artistic and paints lovely pictures. He is kind and considerate.
He leans in to kiss me on the ride home and it feels nice, but You own me.
Inside the door he takes my dress off and then my panties, burying his face between my legs. You own me. He holds my arms above my head at my wrists, pinning me down as he moves inside me. I close my eyes. You own me. His teeth on my breasts, on my neck, my legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, begging him to fuck me harder. It’s never enough. You own me.
I am under him, but You own me.
Every part of me wants to escape; to the way it feels when You take me. My hips want to be under You, my neck wants to feel You, my breasts want to feel Your hands, my fingertips want to glide over You as my mouth and tongue explore every inch of You, a servant of Your desires. With him I am indifferent, simple, a mess of questionable decisions and tasteless kisses. Faceless, unimportant, incomplete.
Sir's submissive 