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Some Ravishing Good Books
Showing posts with label submission. Show all posts
Showing posts with label submission. Show all posts
Monday, June 15, 2015
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Letter from a Willingly Violated
Dear Sir,
I don't know exactly how to tell you this, but it turns out that with a little bit of time, I have come to be profoundly grateful for what you did to me. Some parts of me are still sore, both physically and emotionally, but for the most part, it was an experience I will always remember with a terrible delight.
You raped me. There's no doubt about that. I still feel your hands on my skin, on parts of me no one's touched before, so it seems. My ankles burn with the memory of your strong grip as you bent my legs forward, pinning me to my own bed, my knees pressed into my breasts, my pussy a gaping slash, hungry for something, I didn't know what, yet horrified at the helpless vulnerability of my situation.
I remember your tongue violating my mouth before you forced my mouth open and gagged me tightly despite everything I could do to prevent it. I can feel your tongue on mine now, even as I write this.
In my almost two decades of life, I have never felt as helpless as I did on the night you forced your will on me. No - in all my life, I have never felt helpless, it seems. If ever I did, I know now that it was an illusion. I have never been helpless before, until you took all my power away.
The way you trussed me up like an animal for slaughter - my thighs bound tightly against my body, my wrists tied fast to my ankles, my ass protruding like a rip fruit, my pussy a helpless, waiting victim...
I remember such fear, I thought I would die. I wanted to die. How foolish I was, how ignorant.
Thank you. Thank you for the way you slid your finger into my wet hole despite my tears and protestations. I had never known how hard my pussy could grip, before that fearful, terrible moment of violation. But you continued, first one finger, then another, then another... I thought I was dying, when you twisted your fingers around inside my tender flesh. (I could feel you wriggling inside me then, like a living, alien creature.)
I thought I was dying, but it was my G spot acting up for the first time. I finally understood that when your patient, insistent manipulations resulted in the most explosive orgasm I have ever had, greater than any I had ever given myself, greater than any anyone has ever given me.
And then you continued with another and another and another, all through the night.
I don't know how, Sir, but after a few hours, or it might have been a dozen, I don't know - the sun had come up - I no longer felt like a victim but a willing recipient of your violations. I craved - do still crave - your trespassing actions upon my body. And my soul. It seems that sometime during that night, you had taken me completely, and made me yours.
When you came inside of me, after you had pushed me beyond the bounds of exhaustion (but I was not too exhausted to feel your explosion of hot, liquid ownership deep in my most inner parts, setting your seal on me), I screamed and cried for fear that I might get pregnant. I'm not ready to have a baby, even if it were yours - I'm still in college, after all.
Silly me. When it was all over and I was nursing my tortured body slumped over in the bath with the shower pelting me about the face, I reached into my sore pussy and found a sponge sticky with your cum. I am impressed, Sir, both by how you managed to slip it in me without my realising it and by your thoughtfulness.
It's ironic that I feel that I can trust a man who would break into my room unheard and undetected to have his way with me. And yet, what is that way, Sir? I feel confused, for I realise that what you did was not selfish. What you did was for my benefit, perhaps, as much as yours. Your bonds have set me free from my bonds to convention and - yes - fear. You have set me free to be yours.
I know that you don't answer to anyone's instructions, but, Sir, I remain, with exquisite anticipation
Your willingly violated,
Sara
I don't know exactly how to tell you this, but it turns out that with a little bit of time, I have come to be profoundly grateful for what you did to me. Some parts of me are still sore, both physically and emotionally, but for the most part, it was an experience I will always remember with a terrible delight.
You raped me. There's no doubt about that. I still feel your hands on my skin, on parts of me no one's touched before, so it seems. My ankles burn with the memory of your strong grip as you bent my legs forward, pinning me to my own bed, my knees pressed into my breasts, my pussy a gaping slash, hungry for something, I didn't know what, yet horrified at the helpless vulnerability of my situation.
I remember your tongue violating my mouth before you forced my mouth open and gagged me tightly despite everything I could do to prevent it. I can feel your tongue on mine now, even as I write this.
In my almost two decades of life, I have never felt as helpless as I did on the night you forced your will on me. No - in all my life, I have never felt helpless, it seems. If ever I did, I know now that it was an illusion. I have never been helpless before, until you took all my power away.
The way you trussed me up like an animal for slaughter - my thighs bound tightly against my body, my wrists tied fast to my ankles, my ass protruding like a rip fruit, my pussy a helpless, waiting victim...
I remember such fear, I thought I would die. I wanted to die. How foolish I was, how ignorant.
Thank you. Thank you for the way you slid your finger into my wet hole despite my tears and protestations. I had never known how hard my pussy could grip, before that fearful, terrible moment of violation. But you continued, first one finger, then another, then another... I thought I was dying, when you twisted your fingers around inside my tender flesh. (I could feel you wriggling inside me then, like a living, alien creature.)
I thought I was dying, but it was my G spot acting up for the first time. I finally understood that when your patient, insistent manipulations resulted in the most explosive orgasm I have ever had, greater than any I had ever given myself, greater than any anyone has ever given me.
And then you continued with another and another and another, all through the night.
I don't know how, Sir, but after a few hours, or it might have been a dozen, I don't know - the sun had come up - I no longer felt like a victim but a willing recipient of your violations. I craved - do still crave - your trespassing actions upon my body. And my soul. It seems that sometime during that night, you had taken me completely, and made me yours.
When you came inside of me, after you had pushed me beyond the bounds of exhaustion (but I was not too exhausted to feel your explosion of hot, liquid ownership deep in my most inner parts, setting your seal on me), I screamed and cried for fear that I might get pregnant. I'm not ready to have a baby, even if it were yours - I'm still in college, after all.
Silly me. When it was all over and I was nursing my tortured body slumped over in the bath with the shower pelting me about the face, I reached into my sore pussy and found a sponge sticky with your cum. I am impressed, Sir, both by how you managed to slip it in me without my realising it and by your thoughtfulness.
It's ironic that I feel that I can trust a man who would break into my room unheard and undetected to have his way with me. And yet, what is that way, Sir? I feel confused, for I realise that what you did was not selfish. What you did was for my benefit, perhaps, as much as yours. Your bonds have set me free from my bonds to convention and - yes - fear. You have set me free to be yours.
I know that you don't answer to anyone's instructions, but, Sir, I remain, with exquisite anticipation
Your willingly violated,
Sara
I derived great joy from my first muse, who suffered delights under my care, within the online fantasies I created for her. Are you in search of your online fantasy? I might have a spot for you - write me to say "Hi!"
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Impromptu Ravishment Play by The Femmeinist Fucktoy
As said before: do I want to be raped? Do I want to be taken against my will? Of course not! I would even say: hell no! However, rape play is about the blending of one person’s will to struggle and be overpowered and the other’s will to overpower. It’s about mutual fantasies being fulfilled, and fully consensual and safe, even if it may not always completely feel like it in the moment.
The Femmeinist Fucktoy » Impromptu Ravishment Play
Friday, September 12, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
schoolgirl innocence. nothing quite like it.
there's something appealing about a girl in uniform.
while women may fantasise about men in uniforms of power (military, police, etc.), I think that women in uniforms that emphasise service are oddly appealing.
I'm talking about nurses, maids... schoolgirls.
the last one isn't about service per se, but it's appealing nonetheless.
who could resist an innocent little girl waiting to be taught the ropes?
and ropes are something I'd gladly teach her about.
of course, I'm not talking about kiddies, but nubile high school types.
girls who are actually already women.
quite yummy, I must say.
school's almost in session.
want to apply for special classes with the professor?
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
The submissive you reveals a superior you
One great benefit of being a submissive is that you have a dominant to
push your limits.
push your limits.
For instance, when was the last time you gave yourself orgasms beyond
your limit? You can try to push the boundaries by yourself, but alone,
you'll always stop at enough. With a master, you won't stop when
you've had enough. You'll stop when he decides you've had enough.
(Which usually means that you'll have more than enough.)
When you find someone you can trust to submit yourself to, you're
giving yourself the gift of limitless ecstasy. A good master will
guide you to the edge of your endurance and bring you further each
time. This means that you'll achieve more than you thought you could.
This means that you'll experience more pleasure than you thought
possible.
But it's not merely about experiencing more climaxes than you've ever
had. A good dominant-submissive relationship encompasses a larger part
of life. I have seen my lovelies go further than they thought they
could even in their careers and relationships. It's a good feeling.
When was the last time you did something out of the ordinary in the
bedroom, the classroom and the boardroom? A gentle but firm hand is
what you need.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Let's talk about the submissive you
Every woman, same as every man, has two sides to her psyche - the
dominant and the submissive. The dominant is necessary. And it's often
the side that's rewarded more by societal norms. You can't get ahead
in life if you don't step up and assert yourself, can you? Yet there
is another side that can't be denied. The submissive side.
dominant and the submissive. The dominant is necessary. And it's often
the side that's rewarded more by societal norms. You can't get ahead
in life if you don't step up and assert yourself, can you? Yet there
is another side that can't be denied. The submissive side.
This is the side of fitting in, of wanting to belong. To please. It
might seem like the weaker side at first blush, but perhaps it is more
powerful. With dominance, a woman might get out there and take what
she wants. This means fighting for it. With submissiveness, she might
get things done for her. Given to her on a platter. This can be a more
graceful way of living.
Many women are discovering this side of themselves and are embracing
their submissive selves, being more gracious and receiving more grace
in their lives. It is with women like these that I wish to speak.
Nothing against dominant women. It's just a matter of taste...
About me: I'm writing to you from my loft in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
I'm not God. Not even a God. But I am godlike in many ways (and not so
in others). What am I looking for? Honest conversation with submissive
females. To see what makes you tick. What goes on inside of you. To
walk with you. Dominance and submission is not all about bondage sex,
is it? (No, not "all.")
What do I get out of it? Besides the pleasure of honest conversation,
there's the enjoyment of knowing another person and myself more.
Mushy? Maybe. The truth? For sure.
Drop me an email, leave me a comment or a trackback. And let's talk
about the submissive you.
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