The Secrets of My Arousal by Mary Zoso

— 1) —

Compliment me.
As often as you like. Just make sure it is ALWAYS one hundred percent sincere and specific; never empty flattery. It does not matter whether it has to do with physical traits or immaterial ones. As long as it is honest and real and shows that you know me, that you have noticed me, I will get that warm, fuzzy feeling every time.

— 2) —

Stimulate my intellect.
When the gears get to turning in my brain, the juices start flowing down below. Philosophy, mathematics, physics, history, linguistics (oh-my-God-yes linguistics!). Nearly any subject will do. Be as smart as me if you can, or even smarter. Or if not, just let me nerd out enough for the both of us. You can watch.

— 3) —

Insult me.
But, carefully. If you’ve paid me some compliments and recognized my intelligence, if I know that you like and respect me and think I’m attractive in some way, then call me a filthy whore. A stupid slut. A worthless cumbucket to be left kneeling on the bathroom tiles until the Master is ready to use it. Then leave me there in the dark and forget about me for a while. I will be dripping wet by the time you return.

— 4) —

Tell me what you want.
What you want to do to me. What you want me to do to you. Be clear and explicit. Describe the next few moments to me, an hour, a day, or what you have planned for the rest of our lives. I like to know what you want so that I can please you. Nothing turns me on more than knowing I have pleased you. And when I do please you (and this is important) tell me I’m a good girl.

— 5) —

Command me.
Anything from “Remind me about my appointment tomorrow” to “Shut the fuck up and suck my dick.” Ask nicely if you want. I won’t be offended. But if you want to get me wet, don’t ask, just order me to do it. Use that low, self-assured tone, because you know I will always obey. Your commands make my knees weak and my mouth water. Ask me to cook you breakfast and I will happily do it; command me to do it and I will be shaking with need for you by the time I set it on the table.

— 6) —

Say it in writing.
Letters, notes, emails, text messages. Tell me how your day went or how hard you get when you think about me. Write by hand, if possible. Neat or sloppy, doesn’t matter. I like to imagine your hands, holding the pen, or moving across the keys, words flowing from your brain, down your neck, across your shoulders, through your arms and out the tips of your fingers to form each tiny letter, and know that you’re thinking of me the whole time.

— 7) —

Whisper in my ear.
Say anything at all. Tell me all the dirty, unspeakable things you want to do to me. Tell me what you had for lunch. Just breathe. Let me feel the puff of air tickling the strands of hair that curl around my earlobe as you form the nearly silent words with your oh-so-kissable lips. Make me long for you to touch me. Send shivers down my spine and make me melt, with just a whisper.

— 8) —

Touch my hair, my face, my neck.
Softly: Caress my cheek. Run your thumb lightly across my lower lip. Move a stray wisp out of my eyes. Trace my collar bone with your fingers.
Firmly: Tangle your fingers in my hair. Splay your hand possessively around my throat. Grab my face and pull me in for a demanding kiss.
Rough: Slap me hard across the cheek. Choke me till I see stars. Grab me by the pigtails and shove your cock in my mouth for a good thorough throat-fucking. (Please?)

— 9) —

Skip the foreplay.
Seriously. A total lack of foreplay becomes its own kind of foreplay. Snap your fingers and point to the spot on the floor where you want me to kneel. Interrupt me mid-sentence with a command to get on the bed. Send me a text from work that just says, “Be ready when I get home.” Grab me and use me however you like, without warning. The rush of hot, slick wetness that I get in that moment is immediate and intense. Knowing that you understand this about me is all the preparation I need.

— 10) —

Cum fast.
In my cunt. In my ass. In my mouth. In my hair. On my face, tits, back, belly. In your pants, even. Maybe it’s because you’re so turned on by me that you lose control. Or maybe you’re just using me, like an object, for your own pleasure. Either way, that moment of seeing you cum, feeling you cum, knowing that I had a hand it (literally or not), fills me with an intense pride and satisfaction.
Don’t get me wrong; I like it long and slow too. I very much enjoy my own orgasms. But yours are special. Yours are clear and tangible evidence that I arouse you. And what could be more arousing than that?