Tracysub - Kneeling Is Feeling

If She Doesn’t Feel You For Days, You’re Doing It Wrong

I’m not talking just about the fucking and the sexy times and the scenes. I don’t just mean the slaps and pulls, bites and pinches, belts and ropes, licks and thrusts. Oh, the licks and thrusts. Wait, what was I talking about? Oh, yes! I am talking about all of the above, and so much more. I am talking about anything and everything you do. If you’re doing it without passion, if you are going through the motions, you’re doing it wrong. She’ll know it. Everyone around you will know it. Do you kiss her when you walk in the door? Do you lean over and plant a peck on her cheek as you toss aside your coat? Stop that shit. Stop it now. If you’re going to kiss her, grab her by the back of her hair, lick your way up her throat, and then kiss her like you’re trying to save her fucking life. Even if that entire exchange lasts only 10 seconds because you’re in a rush to hop in the shower and get to wherever the hell your ass needs to be next. She’ll feel that for days. Not everyone is good at putting pretty words down on a piece of paper. I get it. Go ahead and buy her a Hallmark card that says everything you feel about her in your heart. But fucking write something personal in it or go home empty-handed. Tell her about the last time she took your breath away. Tell her what you want to do to her the next time you’re alone. Tell her something that can only come from you because she’s yours. Tell her what you think of when you feel her hair in your hand or smell her shampoo. Tell her your fucking dick twitches when she calls you in the middle of the day and laughs into the phone. She’ll feel that for days. Don’t roll over when you get into bed. Grab her hip and pull her into you. Burrow your nose into her neck. It doesn’t matter if all you do after is go to sleep. Do it because she’s the last goddamn thing you want to feel as you drift off at the end of the night. Do it because you want her in your dreams. She’ll feel that for days. Don’t spank her because she asked for it. Spank her because holy shit, that ass. Don’t eat her pussy because that’s what gets her good and ready. Eat her pussy because it’s the only thing that will cure the cancer eating away at your soul. Whisper into her ear every dirty fucking thing about her that makes you crazy. Up your game a bit. Don’t ask her, “Is this what you want? Whose pussy is this?” Fuck. That. Lean over and fucking TELL her that pussy is yours. Because you’ve never felt pussy so good.
Because you’ll never stop wanting it.
Because all day you can’t wait to get in it. She’ll feel that for days. Long after the sun rises and the soreness wears off and the bruises fade, she’ll still feel you. She’ll feel you sinking into the cracks in her soul and hear the echoes of every whisper as it bounces around her heart. She’ll call you in the middle of the day and laugh that laugh that makes your dick twitch, but what you won’t see on the other end is her blushing and squirming in her seat because she can feel you. Whatever IT is, if you do it like you fucking mean it, like you cannot take another breath without doing it, she’ll know the difference. She’ll feel it forever.

“The vigor, the fire, that enables you to love and create. When you’ve lost that, you’ve lost everything.”

— Simone de Beauvoir, tr. by Justin O’Brien, from “The Woman Destroyed,”

Owners; you broke it, you buy it.

I want you to remember.

It’s not when we’re impressive. It’s not when we’re obedient. It’s not when you swell with pride. It’s not when we are deliciously dumb. It’s not when you’ve beaten us into sub space. It’s not when you marvel at what you created. It’s not when you’re aroused. It’s not when you’re adoring, loving, giving, possessive, intoxicated, sadistic, generous, satisfied, playful.

Understand. It’s not when you’re happy.

It’s when the furrow in your brow is so deep we can’t possibly understand what we could have done to put such a canyon of disappointment there. It’s when your tone changes, when you clip your words with the same knives that snag our confidence. It’s when your lip curls and we watch your face contort into a bitter discontent that we taste more keenly than you do. It’s when your eyes don’t smile; leaving us clutching for the parts of ourselves you said we didn’t need anymore. It’s when you sigh until we feel too difficult to be loved.

Your encouragement of our idolisation. Your slow replacement of our self affirmation with yours. It has consequences. So own the impact of your disappointment upon the person(s) who pledged their choices, their life and their liberty to you.

Take responsibility for what results from fundamentally changing someone to be hypersensitive to your mood. And then remember what that means all-the-fucking-time. Tattoo it into your thoughts. Hold it at the forefront of your mind when you’re expressing displeasure.

Punishment(s) of some kind might be required, but be considerate of the person you trained to prioritise your happiness.

I’m bored of reading posts from submissives who feel like utter shit for trivial crap like not washing up properly.

light my fire and dance with me in it

She does it because she wants to…not because she has to. You cannot force desire or devotion.