I haven’t gotten to just float in ages. We’ve worked on a few harnesses, trying to adjust for my aging and expanding body. The pandemic stress has not been kind. But it has been a long time since I’ve just Continue reading I Tied It Myself
27 has been my favorite number since I was a kid, but you don’t think about that nearly as much as an adult. It started because I thought my Dad had said it was his favorite. But when I found Continue reading My Favorite Number
He asked. Any desires tonight? Ropey something? Struggle rope. Tight hug rope. Spacey rope. Not sure. I was feeling stressy about the weekend. He was supportive, no pressure. Talked about His other plans. He had dug out the old metal play Continue reading Ropey Something?
Ow! Why is it Still Hurting?!?! 😅 We had been planning to cut me for the last couple years. Picked out a knife, talked here and there. Events did not align. Life took precedence. Then a party appeared. Allowing cutting, Continue reading Cut Up
Sex is a very private thing for me. This is partially due to innate shyness. Partially due to body shame. Partially due to societal pressures leading to sexual shame. And partially because that sort of intimacy feels like a private Continue reading (Semi-)Public Sex
I didn’t want to do it alone. He gets excited and wants to push them quickly. I can’t process that fast. She offered to do a scene together and the other two came to watch and support, or so they Continue reading Group Needles
It started with a comment, Z would be coming to the party. An opportunity to play. We hadn’t since February. A holiday again. What could we do? A couple days to marinate and he came back with OTK beatings. Oh, Continue reading Windows of Opportunity
I don’t write about sex all that much, not in the “I had sex let me describe it like a porn writer” way, just in the fantastical way or hot scenes. Sex is personal to me these days, and more Continue reading My First Leather Bar
He brought two cattle prods with Him this year. A full-sized one that you might imagine when you hear those words, and a smaller, stun-gun sized one. Both with the high pitched whine of charging. Neither with the tell-tale crackle Continue reading Control and Cattle Prods
I love the drumming at camp. Having no rhythm myself, I still love to move to their beat. Last year I circled the Burn with Him. This year I did not, preferring to sit, but still the drums moved me. Continue reading To the Beat of the Drums