”my Daughter Is Fine”

But like, can I lay my head on your tummy and have you play with my hair 👉👈

i really crave semi-sexual dominance so much :(

you pinning my hands above my head and kissing not my lips but my forehead. your fingers playing with my nipples when we’re cuddling only to shush me and stop when i get too whimpery. you bending me over the counter and pushing your bulge against my ass only to reach the top shelf. delivering one hard spank before you leave the room again. us making out against a wall until i’m panting and grinding against you, only for you to step away and smirk at how desperate i get for you. you using my instant submission as a quick ego boost for yourself whenever you feel like it. your hand squeezing my thigh just a bit too hard when we’re sitting at the table with friends.

i am in awe of the idea of two dommes using me. one is soft, gentle yet firm and grounding in every thrust of her fingers into me, and the other spanks me and uses me like the whore i am.

source: msbhaive on insta

You are allowed to grieve for what you lost when you went through trauma. You are allowed to mourn. You are allowed to be angry. You are allowed to feel. 

Romanticizing your life sounds so stupid but it will help you cope. Taking extra time to make a yummie coffee in the morning, sitting outide observing the wind in the trees, writing poems, going to old book stores, watching your childhood favourite movies, listening to romantic jazz, writing in a coffee shop, making sure you have moody lighting in your room, putting on asmr rooms as a background noise while you work. It's not a solution, but it makes things a bit better.

subs really do give so much by taking all they can. reminding them and ourselves that they deserve sincere praise for these acts of devotion which develop purely from a genuine connection of trust, reassurance, safety, and established communication is so important. they do it all for us, you know. i’m talking even past the aftercare, to lovingly dote on your sub otherwise is such a privilege. they should feel deeply cared for, empowered by the total control they have over their own treatment, overwhelmingly and undoubtedly loved. to give everything… well they’d deserve that much and more then, wouldn’t they <3

shy horny girls that are physically incapable of telling you what they need are so much fun to break

"Mmm, look at you," I coo, my voice thick like honey as I curl my fingers under your chin and tilt your head back, just enough to make you meet my gaze in that dazed, blissed-out haze. "Such a messy little slut. Can’t even stay still, can you?"

You swallow thickly at my words, but your body leans in instinctively, hips shifting, thighs trembling. Hungry. Needy. Mine.

But inside, what I’m really thinking is: You’re divine. Absolutely breathtaking. You ache so beautifully for me. I’ll never get tired of this view… of you.

"My pathetic little thing..." I whisper next, my fingers dragging across the slick heat between your thighs. "You’d do anything for Mommy, wouldn’t you?"

You nod fast, frantic, a high-pitched whimper caught in your throat. Your lips try to form something like a 'yes,' but it’s lost in the moan that spills out instead.

Your tears are threatening now, clinging to your lashes, blinking fast as if your body can’t decide if it’s overwhelmed or overjoyed. Probably both.

And I think: You’re so trusting. So brave. My perfect girl. You don’t even know how much I love you for this. I don’t take it for granted, not for one second.

I press a kiss to your temple. Just once.

Then I pull away again, drag my nails down your spine slow and sharp, just to watch the ripple of your back, the way you arch into the sting. Then before you even know what hit you, I deliver a hard slap. The sound echoes and you cry out, but you don't move away.

"Does my baby feel a little dumb tonight, hm?" I purr as I deliver another sharp smack, watching your body jolt. Your back arches for me, your hips twitching for more. "You’re really are too far gone to even think now, aren’t you?"

You moan. Just a sound, so raw, so open.

"Say it," I order with a drawn out croon. "Say what you are."

Your voice is nearly a whimper. "I’m… I’m your dumb little baby, Mommy… s’too much— but I like it, I like it, I—"

"Shh, I know." I stroke you tenderly, then strike again. Your thighs twitch, your knees buckle slightly, and you sob so prettily.

But in my mind, I’m holding you close: You’re not dumb at all. You’re clever, intuitive, emotionally rich. You let me take you to this place because you know I’ll bring you back. I’ll never let you fall alone.

"Pathetic," I breathe, slower this time, drawing the word out as I rake my nails lightly down your back, over tender, already-reddened skin. I lean closer, tongue trailing your jaw, and murmur against your cheek, "Dripping just from my voice. How filthy is that, my little slut?"

You moan again, helpless. "Mmm… yes... yes... so slutty for you… can’t think, Mommy… just wanna be good…"

I groan softly against your ear. "That’s my girl."

Another slap, and you whimper. Another, and your knees give, but I catch you, always. One arm loops around your waist as I press your back firmly against my front.

"This is what I do to you, hmm? Turn that sharp little mind to mush with just my voice, my hands."

You whimper, voice slurring. "Yours… all yours…"

"Yes, you are," I groan, dragging my hand between your legs again. So wet, so swollen, perfect. I push two fingers in without warning, and you cry out, your body gripping me tight.

"You were made for this," I murmur against your temple. "Made for me."

You nod, whining, "I—I can’t think, Mommy—"

"Good," I say, curling my fingers inside you. "Don’t think. Just take."

You fall apart so beautifully, loud, messy, soaking my fingers as I press my mouth to your neck, whispering filth and praise in the same breath.

But inside, my heart aches with how much I adore you: You're my treasure. My good girl. My everything. You crave the sting because you trust the hands that deliver it. And I will never stop cherishing that.

I slow the pace, fingers still deep inside you, but softer now. I kiss the side of your face, damp with tears.

"You did so well for me," I whisper. "Mommy's so proud of you."

You’re shaking in my arms, lips parted, dazed and spent, and I hold you tighter. Your body is mine to break, yes… but your soul is mine to protect. Always.