Simply gorgeous
A life lesson that all parents need to teach their children, especially their sons.
Someone so beautiful needs someone to make her smile or give her memories that will always be happy.
For those of you who don't know much or anything about Alan Watts, you need to spend some time with his talks. Peel back a layer and there is a some great wisdom there. Like, Oh My Geeze! Mind Blown kind of wisdom.
@Le Cime
Fill my inbox. I want to find all of you.
THE BIMBO GAME v.1.0
I didn’t exactly come up with the idea. Inspiration came from here: http://permission2cheat.tumblr.com/post/112829708475/good-luck-cumswapwithus
Readjusted the rules though and fixed the general balance, lost the cheating themes and made it more fitting for my Doll and her training.
This is the first version. Feel free to use, reblog, comment and suggest changes. I’d appreciate it if you left me in the credits ;)
Being a bimbo isn’t just about the huge plastic tits or over-stuffed lips. Being a bimbo is about being pretty and pleasing.
If you cannot afford the surgery yet or if it isn’t possible due to your life situation, there are lots f things you can do to look more bimbo.
Focus on little details and ty to get them right.
Practice your make-up until it looks stunning and effortless.
Work out and get that slim, strong body.
Grow your nails, shape them and paint them.
Grow your hair long and care for it every day.
Practice walking in heels until you have a smooth, natural sway.
Smile more
There are lots of inexpensive ways to be prettier. Focus on them. Pick one area and work on it for 2 weeks then pick something else.
If you are in lockdown, it is not as if you have much else to do :)
Let me know if you agree. I'd love to know your opinion.
Dear Gentlemen,
So, you’re here because you want to try Female Orgasm Denial, but you don’t know how to bring it up to your partner, or you don’t think she’ll respond well.
We’re here to help!
Print out the below or hand her your phone and let us explain the benefits instead.
Keep reading
Re-blogging this too as the other side of the coin for my most recent post.
Don’t ever wear men’s clothes. Always remember you’re a girl and dress accordingly.
There is a fine line between sexy and slutty. There is a time and place for both.
Never swear and don’t talk loudly. Keep your voice down and keep it pleasant.
Never interrupt a Man while he’s talking. Wait your time. If he cuts you off stop talking and wait patiently until he’s finished before continuing.
Never talk back. If you disagree say so but in a pleasant manner. Never bitch and never complain and never accuse. Recognise when he’s made up his mind. When he’s told you his decision accept it and move on even if it didn’t go your way.
Openly disagreeing with your Man or questioning him in public shows disunity and should be avoided. Keep your disagreements private (and remember 3-5 above).
Always check in with your Man before making any decisions. Saying “I need to check with my boyfriend/husband” is a perfectly valid answer to most questions.
Be happy and be positive. Do your best to please the people around you and especially your Man. Always ask yourself what more you can do. Look for opportunities to please and be of use.
Always be polite and respectful. Say “thank you” and “please.” If you’ve done anything to upset your Man remember to say “I’m sorry.”
Ask your Man if any of the above is unclear.
(in no particular order)
1. Because his pleasure is my pleasure.
There are lots of things in life that bring me pleasure. A perfectly roasted chicken. Unicorns. Glitter. Tootsie rolls. Fairy lights. Getting an A+. A really good action movie with lots of explosions and guns and violence and goofiness. Debating ridiculous philosophical and political and other stuff with my best friends. Traveling. Getting the perfect messy bun. Literally, the list goes on and on and on.
But nothing brings me pleasure the way that his pleasure does, the way my Dom’s pleasure does. And I’m not just talking about sexual pleasure – I’m talking about all kinds of pleasure. Sucking his cock and taking it all the way down my throat over and over until he feeds me his cum and tells me what a good girl I am for him and getting to revel in the fact that I’ve given him such pleasure that he couldn’t help but cum brings me such tremendous pleasure. But you know what else brings me pleasure? Knowing how pleased he is when I serve him his favorite dinner. Knowing how much it pleases him when I fold his t-shirts the right way. Knowing how much he loves and gets pleasure out of watching me sing along (badly) to my bubblegum pop playlist while I wash the kitchen counters. Watching his face light up when I meet him with a drink and a smile when he gets home from work. Kneeling at his feet and leaning against his leg so he can pet my hair while he reads or watches TV and giving him the comfort of knowing I’m there, knowing I kneel for him, knowing I serve him, knowing I love him, knowing that I’m his with that very simple act.
And when it’s sexual? The way he chuckles when I’m tied to his bed and writhing beneath his touch and whimpering and begging for release? It makes me smile inside. The way it turns him on to deny me? It makes me even wetter. The sick and twisted joy he gets out of ruining an orgasm or denying me one? It makes my girl parts tingle and makes me beg even harder. If he didn’t get pleasure out of the things he did to me? It wouldn’t be the same. I get turned on because of his dirty words and his talented fingers and the way he fucks me until I can’t think straight, sure – but, even more, I get turned on by knowing how much pleasure he gets out of watching me whimper and moan and beg and cry and do what I’m told.
It’s all kinds of pleasure. Any pleasure I give him, any way I please him, any way I make his day better or make him happy or make things just a little bit easier for him brings me pleasure. It pleases me to make him feel good. It makes me happy to know that I’ve made him happy. It makes me feel whole and safe and happy and good to bring him pleasure. It lights me up inside. That’s why I serve him – because pleasing him is what makes me the happiest I can be.
I am a person who craves structure. No, I don’t just crave it – I need it. I do better with rules and limits and a schedule in place.
But here’s the thing – I don’t do well with following the rules and limits and schedule when it’s wholly self-imposed. I can create a structure to follow when I have something to answer to (for example: a job). But when I am wholly left on my own I struggle to maintain that balance and those limits and that structure. I do well with picking one thing to focus on and setting up the structure for that (for example: gym and diet) – but when it comes to creating a structure for my overall life I get overwhelmed and tend to withdraw to a day of procrastinating and ignoring the schedule that I’ve tried to put in place for myself.
I am a person who does better when I know someone else has expectations of me. I have such passion and talent and drive – but I struggle with figuring out where to channel all of that without having something to work toward. And my brain works at such a speed and in such a way that instead of being able to focus in on a few options or possibilities I just see all of the options and end up in a never-ending loop of everything I could do and not knowing which to pick. So having someone to help me wade through that, help me set in place the limits and parameters and structure to figure out how to focus that drive and passion and talent… It makes it easier for me to know how to order my day, for me to plan what to get done when, for me to accomplish things and go to bed feeling like I’ve been productive.
So I crave someone who is willing to take on the very heavy responsibility of helping me create a structure for my life and then holding me accountable when it comes to sticking to it.
It’s true. I have a habit of spiraling and, when I do, sometimes I can recognize it and set myself back on track and pull myself out of the hole. But sometimes I make a bad decision. And then I make another. And before I know it I’ve set myself on the path to a cycle of self-destructive behavior.
And then that happens, I need someone who can gently but firmly sit me down and talk me through it and help me set myself back on the right track. I want him to help me set limits. To help me set-up the rules. To, once again, help me create that structure - or alter the structure that’s already in place.
I need him to be my voice of guidance when I can’t guide myself. I want to know that he has my back. And I want to know that he’ll put limits in place for me when I can’t do it for myself.
I am a people pleaser. I like to please people. And, true, if my mental health struggles and therapy have taught me anything it’s that you can’t live your life entirely focused on pleasing everyone around you. But having a set person in my life who has agreed to be in a relationship with me where he holds me accountable and gives me rules and structure and sets expectations for what he wants from and requires of me gives me a way to feed that people-pleasing need without going overboard and feeding my anxiety.
But it’s more than just feeding that people-pleasing need. It’s about being held accountable. It’s about knowing that if I say I’m going to do something or if he asks me to do something or if he sets me a task or a rule or what have you – that he’s then going to follow-up to ensure that it’s done and, if it’s not, that there are going to be consequences and those consequences are going to come from him.
It’s part of the structure that I need. And I don’t want to put this on someone who doesn’t want to provide that kind of structure or who doesn’t want to take on that responsibility – I’m looking for someone who gets a sense of fulfillment out of taking on that role. Who enjoys providing me structure, who enjoys holding me accountable, who enjoys leading me. Because knowing that he enjoys that helps me feel pleasure, helps me feel calm, helps me feel at peace.
I need to be held accountable. I need to know that there will be consequences for my actions. And I need to know that that accountability and those consequences will come from the person that I respect and trust most.
So much of what you see on tumblr has to do with the Dom being responsible and taking on all the control and having to set in place all the rules, limits, and boundaries, and having to be responsible for the welfare of their sub and on and on and on…
But that’s not a real D/s relationship. At least not to me.
A real D/s relationship is about a give and take. Both (or all) parties take on responsibility. Both parties are responsible for watching out for the other, for caring for the other, for protecting and respecting and loving the other. Both parties are agreeing to act like adults, to handle disagreements with maturity and within the parameters set-up, to respect the limits and boundaries and rules put in place.
Your Dom takes care of you, yes. Your Dom agrees to hold you accountable. Your Dom agrees to lead you and pleasure you and take on responsibility for providing for your needs. But you take care of your Dom as well. I am responsible for watching out for him, for making sure he’s happy, for ensuring that he’s reaching his full potential and that I’m helping him in whatever way I can. I am responsible for talking to him, for telling him what I think and how I feel and for making sure that I share my problems and worries and issues with him. I am responsible for remembering that he can’t read my mind. I am responsible for asking him if he’s okay. I am responsible for listening when he needs to share his problems and worries and issues with me. I am responsible for taking care of him. I am responsible for loving him and respecting him and being the best I can be for him.
Because when he agrees to take on the responsibility of being my Dom – I, at the same time, am agreeing to take on the responsibility of being his sub. Because the responsibility of a D/s relationship doesn’t belong to just one party – it’s shared between both of us. It’s a partnership, a team, a unit. It’s a power exchange. An exchange. Which means there’s give and take. And I want that. I want to give my partner as much as he allows me to take from him. Because that’s the only way that both of us can remain healthy and whole.
Serving him gives me pleasure. Making a home not just with him but for him. Making it pretty, making it pleasing, making it a warm and happy place to come back to every night. Making him dinner. Doing his laundry (but not the ironing!). Making sure his shirts are all hung-up in the proper place when they come home from the dry-cleaner. Bringing him his favorite drink at the end of a long day. Washing him in the shower. Worshipping his cock. Keeping our home clean. Making sure I pick up his favorite snacks at the grocery store. Making sure he remembers to grab a water before he leaves the house for the gym. Serving him in so many ways.
Doing the little things (and the big ones!) that makes his life happier and calmer and altogether just a little bit easier – that makes me happy. Knowing that I’m helping him and making it easier for him to go through his day makes me feel complete.
And I know a lot of people will read this and ask what he’s doing to make my life easier and happier and calmer – and the answer is this: he’s doing so much. He’s holding me accountable. He’s providing my structure. He’s giving me a healthy and safe outlet for fulfilling my needs to please people and to serve. He loves me. He helps me make sure that I take care of myself – and takes care of me when I can’t do it. He gives me just as much as I give him. In his way, he serves me too. It’s a different kind of service than I give him. But it’s still service. Like I said, it’s a give and take.
I suppose this could fall under service but it’s such a distinctive act that brings such tremendous fulfillment and peace that I felt like it deserved its own number.
It really is that simple: kneeling for him brings me peace. Kneeling for him makes me feel safe. Kneeling for him is fulfilling. Kneeling for him is a privilege. Kneeling for him is calming and pleasing and a position of both pride and complete and utter joy.
I love kneeling at his feet. I love kneeling in front of him. I love kneeling in the center of the room so he can watch me. I love kneeling simply because it’s where he wants me to be. It’s like meditation and prayer and supplication all rolled into one. I enjoy taking a position of worship on my knees. I enjoy worshiping him. I enjoy bestowing that honor on him time and time again. And I feel so tremendously lucky every time he allows me the privilege of kneeling at his feet.
It makes me feel safe, it makes me feel whole, and it makes me feel lucky to take my position at his feet. Because it is a physical, positional reminder of who owns me and it gives me the time to reflect on exactly why I picked him.
It really is that simple. I don’t want to be in charge. I am in charge of so much in my day-to-day life. I take on so much responsibility. I care for my friends, I care for my family, I feed the people I care about, I have tremendous responsibility in work, I am responsible for teaching new hires, I am responsible for providing advice on this blog (and yes, I am aware that is a self-imposed responsibility). And there’s more – so, so much more.
And when I’m done with that I don’t want to make decisions. I don’t want to have to make the rules. I don’t want to have to be responsible for what happens next. I want to be told what to do. I want to be told what is expected. I want to be told how to please someone and how to do it right. I want to submit myself to someone else’s control. I want to hand myself over to him and his decisions and his direction. I want that peace. I want that safety. And I want to end each day with that sense of fulfillment.
Orgasms are great. I love orgasms. I really fucking love to cum.
But cumming for myself just doesn’t give me the overwhelming sense of pleasure (emotionally, mentally, physically, sexually) as cumming for him does. When he tells me how to get there, when he tells me what to say, when he makes me beg and cry and whimper and scream and tell him all of my darkest, dirtiest, most depraved fantasies while I try my hardest not to cum without permission… When he makes me wait for it, makes me edge over and over and over, making me hold off… When he finally tells me to cum. When he finally gives me permission. When he finally tells me to let go… It’s unlike any other feeling. Because I know I have earned that orgasm. Because I know he’s allowing me to have that orgasm because I’ve pleased him so much that I’ve earned the gift of it.
Orgasms are great. They really, really are. But orgasms are even greater when they’re a gift from him.
I do. I love the reminder of who is in charge. Or who I have trusted with my welfare and my care and my pleasure and my safety. I love knowing that he’s paying attention to me. I love knowing that he’s watching what I do. I love knowing that he’s making sure I’m staying within the lines – because it reminds me every single time of how committed he is to me and to our dynamic and to the promises that we’ve made to each other.
And I love knowing that he’s in charge. And that he knows he’s in charge. And that he wants to remind me he’s in charge. Because it makes me feel safe. And, tbh, it makes me pretty damn wet.
Sigma Male. PHL area. I'm looking to make friends. I'm the older man type. I would truly enjoy hearing from you. Send me an IM/DM. I don't claim ownership of any of these images.
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