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Fuckwhisperer
Cogent Thoughts on True Slavery:
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Before you met Him, you’d been fine. You were pretty enough to think it mattered. You were smart enough that a minute in His company left you furious about your naiveté. You were special and strong and rare in the same ways every woman is, when seen from behind and above. All you’d accomplished and achieved and earned and captured and won had convinced you of your worth, and His rejection set the lie upon your righteous self-assurance.
How could He?
It wasn’t that you lacked those traits, but rather that you believed they meant everything. Having qualities is different from having quality, and you couldn’t see that.
You recognized His depth intuitively.
Months of work.
For Him, you tore apart your paradigm.
For Him, you filed your identity down to bone and carved the fat from your soul.
For Him, you choked and retched from cramming virtue down your throat, into your heart, but you didn’t stop.
You couldn’t.
You had to be better.
For Him.
When you came to Him again, He saw what you’d done.
You’d sacrificed your ego, your petty superficiality, your pride. You no longer wanted to have him, but but to be His. All you’d valued so deeply you’d thought of them as components of yourself, you’d stripped and discarded and replaced with the worship of Him.
Your personal pronoun had become second-person.
From your place His feet, you stared up at Him, the answer for which you’d spent so long and struggled so hard to become the right question.
Your eyes pleaded for His approval, honest at last.
He smiled inscrutably.
“It’s a start.”
* * * * *
When she loves a Man, any woman can learn to love compliance and suffering and submission. But the treatment is a metaphor: she serves not only because she needs Him, but because she needs Him. Her emotional symbolism triggers her instinctual craving for subjugation. She’s disempowered by default. He puts her at His feet, and she has no choice but to stay in her place.
This is what a slave is.
* * * * *
You always learn best at His feet.
You can’t be distracted from His thoughts when you’re incapable of forming your own.
An empty vessel is easiest to fill.
* * * * *
Even in the beginning, you knew better than to zone out during His defilement, but it was hard to keep from slipping into a fugue, only to emerge weeping and worthless and having learned nothing.
Worse were the times you failed to accept His humiliation altogether, unable to see past your petty selfishness towards your much-desired slavery.
When finally you began to seek refuge in degradation and not from it, you learned: this is a gift.
You need it.
You always have, and He gives it to you.
You’re lucky.
Even when he doesn’t let you swallow.
* * * * *
Watch her expression. At first she’s afraid, thinking she’s made a mistake, regretting her trust. Then He produces His cock and her doubts vanish.
She remembers she exists for Him to use, and when He does, it reassures her, validates her trust.
Being used centers her, dulcifies her, leaves her meek and docile and compliant and humble and good.
A better woman for him to use.
* * * * *
You want to please Him, and He teaches you how. You want to sublimate your will to His, and He takes custodianship of your agency.
You want to be beneath Him, secure in your inferiority and devoted to His happiness above your comfort, and He proves that you always were.
You want to be the very best part of His life, not to have one of your own, and because of this, He makes you His.
Straw feminists blame patriarchy for teaching you this dynamic.
Real women will only tank Him.
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One Day ....... Years from Now .......
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One day, you came to Me and said in a simple tone, “I've only ever just wanted to please You, Master. On every level!!”
I could see that My years of use & abuse, manipulation and reconstruction, control, humiliation & discipline had finally left you pure, naked, stripped of ego, brilliant in service but blissfully submissive in your need to serve only Me.
I had you kneel while I explained how you’d become more the slave and the woman than you ever imagined you could be, and I let you earn three full hot loads of My precious sperm from me, one for each facet of your success.
I don’t remember everything that I've done to you, but I remember that day, so long ago, and I know you do, too.
You remember what I said to you.
You remember the feeling of those three loads on that first night together; you’ve felt them all these years, despite the gallons & gallons & gallons of My cum you’ve earned & swallowed since then… yes, I knew you would.
Shush.
Wipe your eyes.
I have to tell you this.
You are still more the slave and woman than I could have asked for.
You take every affection and degradation with equal gratitude.
You actually humble Me with your love & subjugation.
You have earned your place beside My cock & My ass.
And My heart .....
You have proven worthy.
Shush.
Sit beside me.
I love you.
Forever. |
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