From my Fetlife updates a few minutes ago:
“You’d think after 2 days & nights of play I’d be all content & stuff, but NO…I am jonesing BAD to get roughed up…slapped around…HURT. I wanna find that “puddle of goo” space & crawl inside it.”  And: “…I want something a little less civilized. Bring on the beast, the savagery!”
Yes yes yes…we’ve been playing for two days and I still want more. I am insatiable. I know this.
It’s not simple greed, though.  I’m ready for–greedy for–something different than the “civilized” scenes we’ve been doing. I want aggression; I want savagery.  I want him reaching over casually (as he did this morning in bed, as I lay with my back to him) and grabbing me by the hair on the top of my head to yank me over to him. I want the cruel twisted smile as he hauled me up off the floor last night, knowing the chains he’d left attached to my labia would swing painfully–and enjoying my discomfort.
I want the beatdown.
I want aggression and movement and heat and a touch of fear, the sense that he might just tip over the edge this time.
I want to end up snotty and shaking and sniveling on the floor, unable to think, much less put two words together to form a sentence.
And that’s not all.
I want to be fucked, my mouth and ass and cunt;  shoved down and taken, every orifice ripped wide, stuffed full, over and over until I am begging for it to stop and instead there’s a hand in my hair yanking my head back viciously and a cock jammed into my mouth to make me shut up, fucking my throat until I gag, until snot and tears and spit run down my face.
I want the edge of self-control to be blurred, mine and his.
I want I want I want…


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