“When she’s abandoned her moral center and teachings…when she’s cast aside her facade of propriety and lady-like demeanor…when I have so corrupted this fragile thing and brought out a writhing, mewling, bucking, wanton whore for my enjoyment and pleasure…enticing from within this feral lioness…growling and scratching and biting…taking everything I dish out to her…at that moment she is never more beautiful to me.” - Marquis De Sade
Ay mamí tù tan caliente.
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No matter the intention, the blindfold anonymizes. It strips away your identity like so many clothes torn off your back, and you’re left with a body and a mouth, and not much else. Not if you don’t want it. If you want to put aside personality and ego for a moment, and just enjoy the physicality of it all.
I imagine it might be liberating, to be released from all that makes you you, just for a little while. To lose the house, the mortgage, that family, the friends, the problems, the fact that you haven’t learned Cello yet, even though you’ve wanted to for years. The weighing pressure of not having taken a holiday in at least two years. Just… a body. That’s all you get to be, for that little while. You get to soar above it, the opposite of a near-death experience.
You don’t hover above the body. The rest of you does, your psyche. But you get to stay with it, enjoy the things that are done, the degradation, the objectification, all while the rest of you floats a few feet away, watching it all take place. It’s a form of regression, controlled and consensual, and that’s no bad thing. Sometimes we need a break from all that. A vacation from yourself, at the end of a leash, eyes closed, blinded, and nothing but a thick dick against your lips.
(Source: axman)
Motherfucker. Brazilian?
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