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| You need me.
There's no need to fight it. You. Need. Me. You desire me. You lust for me.
You've read my earlier profile and my journal emteries, pouring over weeks of my enticing, stimulating words. You keep clicking back to my profile just to gaze at my luscious lips, so pretty, pink, and sparkly. You wonder how those lips would feel against yours, on your body. You ache to see more, you want more of me- more journal entries, more pictures- more more more. My words excite you, frustrate you- perhaps even anger you. And yet day after day you find yourself back here, hungry for more of me.
I will give you more. But ask yourself- "What can I do to get her attention?"
After all, its not everyday that a gorgeous femme lesbian appears- we're so much like a rarity, sadly. I know about how you crave beautiful woman, lust after a woman who radiates femininity from the very center of her being.
I am one such woman.
I can become a part of your world. The most exciting, dazzling, adventurous part of your world.
Glamour and beauty come at a price, my dear. One that may appear to steep for you to pay.
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Oh goodness me. What makes one think that I would ever settle for less than my due?
There seems to be many who are wary and threatened by my insistance on a posh and beautiful lifestyle. Well my dears, you simply cannot afford me- in any way, shape, or form.
Why should a beautiful, smart, talented young woman such as myself waste time, effort, and energy entertaining the very dregs of society? Even as a submissive woman, I am well aware of both my gorgeous looks and cutting intellect.
I deserve nothing but the best, and I will settle for nothing less than I know I am due.
If you are curious about my philosophy and would like to know more, please do not hesitate to message me. |
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Beauty.
Beauty is more than superficiality. Beauty is spiritual. Beauty affects the body on a physical, mental, and spiritual level. Beauty is the flower that draws the bee, the sheer beauty of beholding something beautiful brings pleasure to the beholder.Human beings are naturally drawn to beautiful things, from art, to people, to flowers, we witness a glimpse of the Divine, the inherent perfection in all things.We are reminded of the existence of God.
My beauty comes from nature, inspired by the natural fertility signals expressed through all of nature. Over the years I have learned how to utilize the gifts of the Earth to beautify myself, from rich clay to exotic herbs to sparkling gemstones.
Soft, touchable skin that begs to be stroked, tasted, rubbed. Round, shapely curves that wind, snake-like, though your line of vision, suggesting fertility, begging the stroke of your hands. Beautiful skin begs "Touch me, feel me, taste me. Do you not see how your hands long to touch my overheated flesh?" Red, the color of arousal, on my plump lips. See how they beg to be kissed? Red lips remind you, subconsciously, of the vulva, of the labia, those other pair of lips. Flirty, come-hither eyes, heavy with lashes. Long silky hair that tumbles in wild curls down my back. Oh how I adore beauty, glamour, sensuality. The magnitism that a beautiful woman possesses. Who doesn't desire a beautiful woman to call their own?
Flowers dripping with sweet nectar, enticing the bee. Sparkling gemstones mined from the deepest parts of the Earth, untouched by man of thousands of years. Luscious, exotic scents of jasmine, sandalwood, spikenard. Frankincense & Myrrh. The Earth has gifted women with all means of beautifying ourselves, of adorning ourselves to become even greater versions of who we are.
Beauty is pleasure. Beauty is indulgence. Beauty is another manifestation of divine. I cultivate my beauty to create pleasure in those who look upon me.
Far from shallow, the desire to be beautiful is mankind's desire to perfect ourselves, to become one with the source of perfection- God.
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I adore cloudy, rainy days.
There is something about the beauty of water in its myriad of forms that has always enchanted and fascinated me from a very young age. Even now, as an adult, I find myself languishing in the music made by a cool spring rain, breathing in the cool, cleansing air, feeling myself refreshed and made anew.
It is on these cool, unpredictable spring days that I crave a steaming mug of ginger tea to warm me from the inside out. Luxuriating in a bath bursting with lavender scented bubbles is also another way I'd enjoy spending this glorious day.
The reality of my day so far has been spent in meditation and quiet reflection. Focusing in the changes I need to manifest in my life to create tangible, lasting change. Naturally with that comes copious amounts of reading with a side of rumination.
Lunch will be nourishing, warming soup topped with lightly fried vegetables and crispy tofu. To nourish the body is to nourish the mind, after all.
I do hope everyone is having an enjoyable day- no matter what the weather may be.
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I desire.
The soft brush of her lips against my swollen, overheated flesh. Insistent, greedy, demanding hands that grab and slap and plunder as they will, indulging in the rapture of my flesh and the comfort that lies within the curves of my lewd body.
The way my legs part to expose tempting, juicy fruit for her to devour according to Her will, vulva swollen and aching for Her undivided attention.
Oh how my body aches, how it responds without fail to the simple thought of offering up my body, to be used at Her will, when She has me.
The thought of turning my ass up to her hand, the reverberation echoing through my entire body as her hand meets the sumptuous flesh of my ass, my muffled cries, my arms restrained behind my back, my mind straining to give more and more to Her, offer up the deepest corners of myself if only to earn Her pleasure, Her praise.
Now I begin my journey anew, seeking out that woman who I might offer up my entire life in service for her love and protection. |
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I wait.
My heart thumps painfully in my chest, a symphony of emotions and desires clamoring for attention. I step in front of the mirror one last time, my heels clacking on the tiles-everything must be perfect for Her. After a long day at work, it was one of Her commands that I receive her in pleasure. Gazing into my deep brown eyes, I realized that I had truly become Her toy, a doll. An extravagant, expensive play thing to use and show off, yet another fanciful indulgence collected over Her life. But with that came a swell of pride. I was beautiful enough that She was determined to possess me, her most precious and extravagant toy.
I begin my inventory from the floor up, knowing her keen eye for detail will either reward for me for my careful attention or be the cause of yet another swift and painful punishment. My four inch heels are polished and scuff free, their luminous white color contrasting nicely with my warm, brown skin. Do my stockings have a run? I twist around and peer intently, relieved. The cocoa brown stockings are not marred, held up by the suggestive lines of my garterbelt, leaving several inches of decadent flesh exposed. Supple brown thighs meet the exciting curves of my most intimate parts- the soft mound of my vulva clothed in scant cream-colored lace- already moist.
I can't suppress the swell of arousal as I envision Her skillful, greedy fingers gliding over my swollen pussy, my needy clit begging for her undivided attention. If this were another time, I wouldn't hesitate to fuck myself. But my pussy is no longer mine, it belongs to Her. Her's to control.
Her's to lock away or fuck until my eyes roll back into my head and I scream to God for mercy.
If I could scream. If She permitted me to.
Sumptuous, creamy curves emphasized by her favorite corset, decorated lavishly in here and there with silk bows and pearls. The cups made my already full D-cups look rounder and fuller, almost overfilling the corset itself. A glimmering opal winking from my clevage, my unruly curls dusting my shoulders and collar bones. Pouty, decadent lips painted crimson red, my face heavily made up, eyes fanned by heavy false lashes. And to seal the deal- the heady, sweet smell of jasmine warming the air from the fires of my desire.
Without being able to stop myself, before I broke this dream, my hands began to glide up my thighs, my breath coming hard and heavy at the thrill of my disobedience. I wasn't allowed to touch myself, I knew this. And yet I continued to stroke, careful not to let my long nails snag on the wispy fabric of my stockings. I toyed with the idea as I circled my fingers over my mound, between my lips, keeping the motions soft and light, as if that would redeem me from my misdeeds.
What would I get for punishment? I racked my brain, painful memories bubbling up. The cane, the whip, my bruised, battered, beaten flesh aching in a thousand creative ways. The humiliation of being tied up outside on a leash, the pain of her hand on the swell of my ass, being bound with rope cutting into my soft flesh, a blindfold over my eyes, the brief sensation of panic of not knowing who or where or what I was... None of them compared to the pain of disappointment and anger in Her eyes each time I disobeyed Her.
I'd pay for it soon than later.
I both felt and heard the key in the lock, and a thrill of excitement, dread, anticipation, and blinding lust shot through straight to my needy clit, wringing my nerves and sending my heart hammering in my chest.
With one more glance in the gilded mirror, I turned away.
Dollface did not even begin to describe what I had become.
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