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By (user no longer on site)
over a year ago
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"I know there is no ultimate benchmark of behavior whereby one could draw a line that divides girls into conclusive ‘good’ or ‘bad’ categories. Hell, I know that it can be a little patronising. But still. I know you love being told that you're a very good girl.
Good girl.
Good. Girl.
When you're sucking my cock: good girl. When you bend over and place both your palms on your ass, spreading those cheeks so that I can plunge my cock straight into that glorious, glistening cunt: good girl. When you bite my lip and grip the bedposts to push back against my dick to make it go in deeper: Good girl.
You need my praise. You physically crave my vocal approval. Hell, you would even crawl naked from one end of the kitchen all the way through the house to where I am sitting right now, enthroned, on the sofa, just to get me to reward you with a ‘good girl’ when you have finally reached beside me.
It’s not just in the bedroom, either. It could be when you bake, your always looking for my approval too, especially when its a good banana bread, which I prefer to eat still warm from taken out of the oven, drenched in butter. I scoop up the last bit of crumbs from the plate, still standing in the kitchen because it was too damn good to take to the table to eat properly, and I look down at you and smile with possessive pride: good girl.
‘Good girl’ serves as a powerful turn-on and a playful bit of friendly connection, but that is not all it is. ‘Good girl’ can also sometimes be a tool with which to control your behaviour.
I know there are almost as many ways to say it as there are occasions when your thirsting to hear it.
Good girl. Good girl.
Sometimes I like to tease and draw out the second word for so long as you actually find yourself aching for the ending. Good… giiiirrrrl.
Or a powerful commanding one that punches the first word into being with the kind of power that usually accompanies a fuckthrust: GOOD girl.
Whispering it softly in your ear, when I have wrapped you in my big tattooed arms and squeezing you tight, running my fingers across your back while playing with your hair: good girl.
Your not just any good girl either. Your MY good girl.
You're not bad – You're a very good girl. Your My good girl.*
When I ask “Who’s my good girl?” you say “Me.”
And your cunt throbs along with your heart and you are in that moment both powerful and weak. Strong and capable and brilliant and worthy of pride, yet small and meek and desperate for approval.
Good girl.
You want me to tell you how good you are when you kneel in front of me and unlace my shoes at the end of the working day. A habit we both love every evening. You unlacing my shoes at the end of the working day. Looking up at me from below, from the position you prefer at my feet, and hoping to unloaded my work woes via unzipping my trousers and unload my cum down your throat.
You feel the need to be ‘good’ when I press my palm flat on the back of your head and thrust my dick so hard down your throat, or when I grunt with satisfaction as I shove it roughly into your cunt. You want to be good enough to take a really solid beating, enough to make you gasp and your eyes water. You want to be rewarded with those two perfect words at the moment I grow tired of spanking you and decide to start fucking you instead.
You will be my good girl in the kitchen when your doing your favourite hobby of cooking and baking. Or in the car for long drives and I’m passing you munchies and lining up the tunes. When I've done a DIY project in house or garden that you wanted, you’re impressed with my blood, sweat and toil. In the bedroom when we’re fucking and in the living room when we’re fucking and in the hallway when we’re fucking in a secluded spot outdoors and when we’re fucking and I spank you to make you whimper just so I get the pleasure of telling you to shut up.
You know to shut up when your told, because your a good fucking girl, and you'll do anything to hear those two perfect words. You can't explain why those particular words do what they do for you, but whatever it is they do, they do it hard.
I know it’s cheap and I know it’s easy and I know that it’s infantilising and sexist and highly problematic.
Yet, you yearn for it. Your desperately love knowing that your my good girl. You would beg for it, run miles for it, drink piss for it.
I know it's patronising. It infantilises you and makes me the arbiter of whether you go to bed happy or sad. Satisfied or disappointed. That ‘good girl’ is – in the split second it tumbles from my very lips – a benchmark of whether you are acceptable as a person. It’s my way of measuring how successful you are, where the only data point collected is ‘whether you have pleased me.’ It’s irrational. Offensive. Entirely fucked-up.
But still.
You want to hear me say it.
All together now...
Good girl."
Please, an update to this? Cant message the OP, maybe someone else can ask nicely lol |
