Last night it was late, and most of twitter was asleep. Some were awake, though. And made me think of something that has occured to me before. That other submissive women know how to manipulate me better than anyone. With thanks to Molly
Girl-friends are fun. Girl-friends are squishy and smooth and fluffy and endless and exciting. girl-friends are gangs, groups, tough exteriors and sweet, sticky middles. girl-friends are mean and nasty and pull your hair and make you cry.
Subby girl-friends are legion. They got your back. They understand your mind. Subby girl-friends sigh and roll their eyes when people tell them their submission is anti-feminist. Subby girl-friends know the score. Subby girl-friends know exactly how to push your buttons.
Girl-friends will circle you, smirk at you. girl-friends will give you a makeover, paint your face and take away your glasses so the room is a rosy blur of bodies and hairspray, layers of perfumes and each one distinct.
Girl-friends will grab your tits and laugh at your spilling flesh in their hands, pinch your nipples and watch them crinkle and stiffen, go from pale peach to creamy brown. girl-friends will bite your neck, leaving lipstick brand-marks and spit in their stead.
Girl-friends will laugh at you being turned on when they manhandle you. girl-friends will tell you how dumb you are with your mouth wide open.
Girl-friends will pull up your skirt to run the very tip of their perfect manicures across the cleft forming in your panties and tell you how disgusting you are because this was all it took to make you wet, will push that finger deep inside you, fabric clinging to your dripping hole.
Girl-friends will make you stand in the corner with your dripping cunt and lipstick marked body and watch as they lean in to softly kiss one another, touch one another gently with innate, intimate knowledge – the prize of being women, knowing women’s bodies the way they know their own. Tickling spots and nipping at ears and nipples. Bodies are knitted together and unravelled and knitted together in sweeter, more pleasing formations and you can only watch, girl. Watch as pleasure fills the room.
And they will laugh, they will look up from their spot between velvet-smooth thighs, or the hollow of an armpit and taunt you for being turned on and stupid and for making a mess in your knickers and noisily devour the flesh before them.
Subby girl-friends know this is what you want, what you need. They have needed it too.