Nov 192012
 

He’s so possessive.

Mine – he says. His.

He likes it when I say the word when we’re fucking.

Even when we’re not. I don’t forget.

He’ll beat parts of me red and raw so that I’ll remember.

My tears and promises swear that I will.

His. All of it. All of me.

My panties are always wet.

Nov 152012
 

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~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

The 2 weeks of my sex life I lost to Zoloft“My G-spot felt non-existent. My clit felt numb. The masturbation didn’t hold my interest, and my mind wandered.”

Baby Girl“You fill me with a desire to learn so that I can teach you. I push you to trust yourself as I trust you.”

Denial - ““Not yet,” he says, pulling both of my arms back, leaving my clit screaming for attention.”

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Dangerous Lilly

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Thoughts: Contractual Considerations

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Alley-Oops
Challenging Sexy
Open Me Up
How this blog started
Speaking of NRE

Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor

How to Pack for a Con
Rape Culture Rant
The Female Orgasm: A Brief History, Part 1

Kink & Fetish

Ball Gag Safety For Beginners
Choose one word to describe yourself
Drool
Drawing out hurt
Dirty, Nasty, Perfect
Evolution of a new fetish: veiling erotic
It was always a trap…
“unnamed”
The Panty Loan
Watersports: Not As Easy As It Sounds

Erotic Writing

A Writing Challenge – Blindfold
about to be devoured
Blow Me Away
Girls’ Night Out
Hot Girls with Gay Bodyguards
Leaving You Wasted!
Lolita Twenty-Twelve, Part Sexeh and Sexbee
Questionnaire
Retrospective
Vampire girl #14

Nov 152012
 

Confession: The Stalking of a Doll

You open your email and his words make you instantly close it. It’s the shame of liking what he’s written that makes your face blush. The texts that he’s sent and you never asked for give you those tiny bumps up your arms. You squeal into the pillow, squeezing your thighs together. The gall of what he says on public sites, right out in front of everyone, leaves you slack-jawed. You look around in public. You’re sure that people near you have seen the same words and worse – can smell the wetness of your cunt. Each word is for you – to push you. Sometimes it’s a secret. Sometimes it’s not. Sometimes he enjoys the humiliation that he knows you endure just to get receive a message. You live on his time. Even if only to pretend, you are his. When you shove your fingers in your cunt, re-reading all that he’s written – you are his. He stalks you. Making you his. You let him. In silence.