divinedommestic:

Gentle femdom can still leave bruises

When I say that I like gentle femdom, I think that is often translated by people as a desire for spanking and cuddling and a little service submission. And there’s nothing wrong with that, for the people who want it.

Of course I want to cuddle you and kiss you and tell you that you are my special treasure and my favorite toy. I adore you, but I will show you that in a way that leaves you gasping and sore, tears streaming from your eyes in pain or frustration.

I want you bound and gagged, scratch-marks on your chest, bruises in the shape of my fingers around your throat, ass and thighs covered in welts and red handprints because I love hearing you scream. I want the shadow of my teeth etched into your collarbone, my name scrawled on your body in indelible ink, your mouth held eagerly open for my tongue or fingers or spit or piss. I want my heels digging into your back, hickies that don’t stop until I am spitting your blood, your hips grinding against the mattress or any part of me that you can reach in desperation. I want your voice shaking as you beg me to move just a little closer, plead with me for just one orgasm, admit to me every shameful and disgusting thing you want me to do to you with a blush rising on your face as you try and fail to meet my eyes.

Of course you are my most prized possession. I treasure every moan and sigh and whine and scream I coax out of you. I want to ruin you, and I want to wrap you in a blanket afterwards, my arms around you as I hold your glass of juice and your snacks. I want to wreck you, and I want to reassure you that you did an amazing job for me, that I am proud of you and I love you. I want to kiss every bruise and rope burn, wipe your tears, and let you snuggle into me and fall asleep.

When I say that I like gentle femdom, I mean that I want to be soft and sweet and caring, but I still want to leave you covered in bruises.