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Showing posts from March, 2022

In Tatters

I knelt at His feet in the utter mess I’d made. My struggle to succeed was stark. No one had ever seen me so disheveled…in such embarrassing circumstances. As He cleaned me up for the second time two minutes, I looked up to meet His steady gaze and tried to gauge his reaction. Disgust at another disastrous, completely unimpressive act of service? Frustrated at my inability to get it together? Sadistically amused at another ridiculous unglamorous predicament I’d once again found myself in? I knew he was taking in every fucking minute detail of the wreck before Him and squirreling it away in the vault of His mind, but what did He feel? His stoic expression offered me no hint. Without comment He stood firm in front of me. Fuckin unwavering. He hadn’t walked away. He hadn’t stepped back. I swear He may have even leaned in. As soon as I’d semi-collected myself, I began my third attempt even as I tried in vain to push the remaining proof of my ineptitude out of view, hoping it would simply

HARD LIMIT | I am NOT Y/your Shame

I've churned off and on with this post for years as the issue has cropped up numerous times since I entered the lifestyle a dozen years ago.  It's a topic I rarely see tackled.  To be upfront, I'd love any additional insights, perspective, shared experiences, and potential solutions here...      We talk a lot about consent in this community.  Those clear negotiations before play or a relationship to established each partner's boundaries, limits, desires, and needs work out great when you're talking about overt actions/inactions. "I love flogging.  I'm open to knife play, but needles are a hard limit for me." Easy-peasy...but what about the messy, unconscious, emotional garbage most carry around?  How often are we intentionally negotiating those landmines upfront?  The few instances I've heard discussed tend to be either in the context of M/s or Owner/property User Manuals or Pro-Domme negotiations, a small portion of the community. ~record scratch

A Return to Pleasure

No lie, it's been waaaaaay too fucking long, and with the pandemic it's been incredibly difficult to create consistent sources of pleasure.  So difficult I'd forgotten what soul deep pleasure even felt like until tonight.  I was not ready.  I didn't have a clue what was in store for me.   Forty-five minutes into the most decadent, slow, insistent, thorough yet subtle mouth-fucking I've ever had, shivers ran down my spine as my senses and nerve endings finally caught up with and began to interpret correctly the seduction and sheer joy of my experience.  My entire body tingled, and in that instant when the visceral responses flooded my system...I surrendered and nearly cried. There was no rush.  Every minute felt longer than the last.  I never knew a leisurely mouth-fucking could be so damn epic.  Those steady, unassuming, nuanced strokes teased me with each mouthful.  My greedy lips gentled and discovered a rare patience as I sank into the wonder and delight of every