Chaotic and twisted thoughts of my mind

The Quiet Art of Everyday Submission: 

Submission is not defined only in the dramatic moments—the kneeling, the commands, the rituals behind closed doors. It exists in the quiet spaces, in the day-to-day, when the Dominant is absent but the bond remains. True submission is not a performance that begins and ends with proximity; it is a state of being, a thread woven into the fabric of a submissive’s life.

For a Dominant, knowing that submission continues beyond their presence is deeply satisfying. It is not about control for control’s sake—it is about connection. Every small act of submission, whether internal or external, is a whisper of devotion, a silent acknowledgment that the power dynamic does not fade when the two are apart. These gestures—small but significant—reinforce the structure of the relationship, deepening its roots.

Internal Acts: A Submissive Mind at Work

Some of the most powerful expressions of submission happen in thoughts alone. A submissive moves through their day, yet their mind lingers in the space they share with their Dominant. It is not distraction—it is presence.

• A simple moment at the grocery store—picking up a particular fruit or spice that reminds them of a shared meal or a night spent together. The thought arises: Sir would enjoy this. A picture is taken, a small message sent—not for permission, but as an offering of thoughtfulness, a connection in absence.

• Standing in front of the mirror before leaving the house, pausing just long enough to consider: Would this please them? Even if no specific rules govern the outfit, the intention remains—to present oneself in a way that reflects the dynamic. A subtle mark of ownership, whether in a chosen color, a hidden piece of jewelry, or a posture held with quiet confidence

• Moments of restraint—whether in words, in actions, or in decisions. When someone flirts, when temptation arises, the thought is not simply I should not, but I choose not to, because I belong elsewhere. The boundaries are not obligations; they are affirmations of devotion.

These thoughts do not exist for external validation. They are personal, intimate, and deeply fulfilling because they tether a submissive to the relationship, reminding them that their surrender is not dependent on proximity.

External Acts: Quiet Gestures of Devotion

The external acts of everyday submission take many forms, and they need not be grand to be meaningful. Their power lies in consistency, in their ability to reinforce the dynamic in the mundane.

• Maintaining poise and presence – Whether among strangers, coworkers, or friends, a submissive carries themselves with the quiet awareness of their role. A certain grace in movement, an attentiveness in listening, a controlled response when challenged—all reflections of discipline, of having been shaped and guided.

• Marking their submission through dress or tokens – A day collar, a piece of jewelry, a particular scent—all serve as private reminders, talismans that anchor them in their dynamic. They do not need to be obvious to the outside world, only meaningful to the one wearing them.

• Choosing service in small ways – A drink prepared the way they know their Dominant enjoys. A bed made with care, even if no one will see it. A task completed before it is asked. These are not obligations, but offerings—acts of submission woven into the routine of life.

• Defending the boundaries of the dynamic – When others attempt to intrude—whether through flirtation, dismissiveness, or misunderstanding—a strong submissive does not falter. They do not waver in their identity or shy away from their place. Boundaries are not just enforced by the Dominant; they are upheld by the submissive with equal dedication.

Each of these actions, no matter how small, carries weight. They reinforce not just the submissive’s devotion, but the Dominant’s presence within their life.

Submission as a Constant, Not a Condition

For a Dominant, knowing that submission continues even in their absence is a quiet satisfaction. It is not about possession alone, but about the knowledge that their presence, their structure, and their influence extend beyond physical space. It is about seeing submission not as a temporary state, but as a way of being—one that is chosen again and again, even in the most ordinary moments.

Submission is not something a submissive does only when the Dominant is near; it is something they are. And in those small, everyday acts, the thoughts, the gestures, the private moments of recognition—the dynamic is kept alive, strong, and unshakable.

Submissive Creed

i will communicate with complete honesty my needs, desires, limits, and experience. i realise that failing to do so will not only prevent my Dominant and i from having the best experience possible, but can also lead to physical and emotional harm. i will not try to manipulate my Dominant. i will not push to make a scene go the way I feel it should. i will keep an open mind about trying things that I am not accustomed to or comfortable with and expanding my limits. i will continue to grow as a submissive and as a human being. i will accept the responsibility of discovering what pleases my Dominant, and will do my best to fulfil His wishes and desires. i will not allow myself to be harmed or abused, I know that submissive does not equal "doormat".

i will be courteous and helpful to my fellow submissives, i will share my knowledge and experiences with others in the hope that they will learn from where i have been i will take the time to help those new to the scene start out on the correct path.

i will be responsive to my Dominant,i will not try to hide what my mind and body are feeling so that i may assist Him in His responsibilities as my Authority, i know that Dominants are not telepaths, and will not expect my Dominant to know thought or feelings which i do not share.

i will never think myself a "better" submissive because i choose to submit on a different level than another. i will not be boastful of experiences i have had as a sub. i know that my actions reflect upon my Dominant, and will do my best to help others see him in a positive way, i will not intentionally embarrass or displease my Dominant.

Above all, i will wear my title of submissive with honour, i will never cause others to think that being submissive means to be weak or subhuman. i will take pride in who and what i am, and will never show myself in a negative way.

If you love a overthinker...

Before you get upset about their constant need for reassurance...

Listen to this.

Their neediness is not just neediness.

It's fear....I promise you

No one is more tired of their over-active mind then they are.

They live with it everyday.

It's sometimes difficult to see but there's a beauty in overthinking.

Those people that are most afraid to be hurt.

Are also the ones that love the most

Please appreciate that.

Be there for them.

Tell them that your not going anywhere.

Reassure them.

They are still learning to trust.

They are still learning to let go of their fears.

Because everyone before you has left.

They are fighting everyday to win the biggest battle.

The battle against their own mind

Sapiosexuality is a celebration of the mind 

A desire sparked not by fleeting appearances but by the intricate dance of intellect and curiosity

It's a pull towards shap wit a well tuned phrase a thought lingers like a whispered secret.

To be a sapiosexual is to find the spark of attraction in shared ideas and the vulnerability of a soul laid bare in conversation.

Beyond this, my innate passion weaves together intellect and raw unbridled sensuality, a fire that consumes with both depth and abandon.

My sexuality is not just a physical act but a sympathy of sight, sound and the electricity of connection.

It is a force that craves the intertwining of minds as much as bodies.

Where desire becomes an exploration and intimacy not merely a union but a art form of profound expression. 

Do not look for me, I will find you somewhere in

The either.

You are waiting there surrounded by wisps of thoughts and words.

Silently swirling in mists of intrigue 

I am a seeker 

But I only seek you, and when you arrive I will know.

That light through the mist starts to enter, and you slowly emerge.

There you are, now let us begin, our dance of the minds.

For it is there we find solace..

The mist depart.

For there we see each other, raw and open as it should be

For we are creatures who seek the solace of 

Understanding.

That is where our power lies and this is where we 

Will be.. 

Knots are fleeting

Skin will forget a ropes bite

Rope marks will fade 

But the mark you leave on her spirit?

Thats eternal.

Your not just binding her wrists 

Your wrapping your presence around her mind, her breath, her soul.

Anyone can tie a knot, fasten a chain or buckle and cuff. 

But not every man can hold a woman in that space,

Between fear and surrender.

Where her hart races and her soul reaches out to yours

The restraints are simply a object.

The real binding happens in the tension of his command.

The weight of his silence, the gravity of his touch.

When he leads she dosnt just fall into his knots, she 

dissolves into the connection.

And in that moment nothing else exists except trust,

Presence and the unbreakable bond you've built together.

No scissors in the world  can remove that moment.

What if I tell you the truth, and you leave,
vanish like smoke, like I was never real?

What if you see me—no filter, no glow—
just skin, just scars, just a girl you don’t know?

What if you hear me, and the voice is all wrong,
too sharp, too soft—never your song?

What if you touch me, and something is off,
not fire, not warmth—the spark in my eyes no longer you find ?

What if I don’t fit the shape in your mind,
a stranger, a fraud, a love left behind?

What if the words I carved into bone
once held you close, but now cut to the bone?

What if you read all I’ve written, and choke—
too bitter, too jagged, too broken to be hope?

What if you see it—this was never fate,
not fire, not home—just another mistake?

And what if I know how this always ends—
crawl through the wreckage, rebuild, pretend?

What if the lesson is never to learn—
the door always locks, but I always return?

In darkness she walks
He wolf by her side
Her constant companion
Her ever ending guide
She walks along
Steady and slow
No great rush she
Has nowhere to go
The darkness her home
Where night becomes light
She finds herself searching
Throughout the night
She longs for what is lost
Yet it stands before her
What seems so close
Is so far out of sight
She longs for his hand
That once held hers tight
Her soul calls for him
As if whispers in the night
She longs for his control
She longs for troubles
To take flight
She seeks the quietness
The simplicity of grounding
She yearns to please
And hungers to be
By his  side
The wolf in her is ravenous
She craves to be hunted
Though out the night
She seeks the wolf
That lurks through
The night
The hunger that burns
With in her runs deep
In her veins
And burns bright
In the night
She longs for the wolf
To follow her light 

What is it about that “voice”

And, no not the show, my kinky peeps.

The “Voice”, that “Voice”, His “Voice”????!

Holy crap, the voice, you know the one:

●That one that makes you smile so big your cheeks hurt instantly

●That one, that when you hear it and you are around other people, they know you

are up to something naughty or nasty

●That one you can’t even listen to an entire message because that voice makes your girlie bits twinge

●That voice that says cum for me, and you lose it

● That voice that says squirt for me, and you soak everything around you

●That voice that hits you right in the pit of

your stomach and makes you say, oh shit, i‘m in trouble

●That one, you’ll drop to your knees for

●That one you’ll find comfort in and search

for when you need soothing

●That one who will be, behind you or over

you spanking your ass and the next minute

wiping your tear streamed face

●That one, while rubbing your head, says

sir proud of His baby girl

●That one who doesn’t yet realize, the voice

controls everything

●That tone that can change within a instant with a growl that captures your complete attention 

●That’s what that “Voice” does, and you

know the one I’m talking about….. His VOICE….

In darkness she walks alone
Her wolf reminds her she
Must let go
His wise eyes know the
Pain she holds
Sometimes quite yet
Sometimes grips her soul
She pauses and brushes
Her hand against his
Soft coat
It always grounds her soul
He is the only one she has
Know that has never let
Her go
He has forgiveness in his soul
He knows she does not
Mean to mislead
Or hurt any soul
Her soul old
Seen so many life times
So many stories unknown
She takes a deep breath
And allows her self
To remember she knows
Who she really is
Scars remind her of sadness
Of not being enough
Her black wolf nudges
Her and reminds her
Time to get up
Stand tall and strong
Pure and raw
Brush the dirt from
Your kness
Walk with me
Words whisper through
Tress
Carried through the breeze
Scars remind but the do
Not define