Feeling safe in feeling human.

As a submissive – someone who prefers relationships where there is a mutually beneficial unequal power dynamic – I have done quite a bit of self-exploration around my needs and desires. And as someone who seeks out a master / slave relationship – a relationship where one human secedes power and control over themselves on…

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One year. Today.

In one year…   I have grown so much. I’ve pushed myself beyond the bounds of what I thought I needed to find joy, what I thought I found desirable, what I thought was possible.   It was a year ago today I shook hands with a man who, I would very soon learn, was to…

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backlash

I’m starting to envy those who actually have time for “drop.” That whole “con-drop” thing isn’t something I’ve personally processed, it isn’t a cycle to which I’m accustomed, because I always have the next convention on the horizon. And the rare times I go over a month without a major kink event are the times…

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Service animal.

Having a memory as surreal as mine is, occasionally, amusing. I can recall some conversations with freakish clarity, be they the day before yesterday or Valentine’s Day 1993. But please don’t ask me what I ate for lunch yesterday. So this makes for fun times when I buy something for myself, totally forget, then feel…

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Ignorance = Freedom

On Sunday, September 5th, 2010, I got hit in the face with an epiphany about my journey in Leather, in slavery, that shifted my paradigm, re-routed a stifling blockage of self-pity, and enabled me to take back a part of me that felt broken and damaged.   It was a massive reset.   I was…

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Nothing to see here…

I’ve been here & in service & writing & working for a little over a week now.   I haven’t had much in the way of time for personal writing.     More to the point, I am in the midst of this crazy-ass root-level emotional liquefaction that has left me gasping a bit for…

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“…to be brave.”

I’m writing words none of you will read.   I’m phrasing an inner monologue I don’t want anyone to hear.   I’m voicing fears I do not want to face and, in bad moments? Resent having to share at all.   I’m editing a document that is supposed to facilitate one of the more critical…

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Left unsaid.

I have had a fucking crazy past month or so. And despite my usual puking all over the place about pretty much everything that happens, I’ve been oddly reluctant to post. There are several reasons for this.   First and foremost? I was reluctant to talk about some situations while I was still embroiled in…

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Salt.

I wrote about you again, btw I know. I see! Do you now? Well, yes, and this is me trying not to do the sad puppy eager for approval thing. I feel pathetic enough as it is There is no reason to feel ashamed of desiring positive acknowledgement from me. I was going to comment earlier but…

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I see what you did there.

I suppose I should know better...but why fight it when relinquishing control is so delicious?

I hate it when someone says “We have to talk.”   It doesn’t matter what comes after that. My hamsterbrain jumps right onto that Wheel of Misfortune and starts furiously scrambling. This is a reflex I have had for as long as I can remember. And it doesn’t fucking matter who says it or what…

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