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Treasure Chest

Where you will find the hidden gems along my journey. My feelings. My raw and real emotions. You will get laughter, kink, positivity, with pain and some times heartache all wrapped in silver lining. So if you haven't been here yet, make sure you begin at the beginning.
2 days ago. July 4, 2022 at 8:40 AM

Fairytales ruined me. I know. Sounds crazy right? But it's true. It's been a real blow to the child in me. She literally aches at the thought that life isn't all music, romance and happily ever afters. It would've been nice if that were true, wouldn't it?


I keep thinking about how much of my childhood was centered around them. How my heart and mind simply had no choice but to believe. Not only did it tug on my love-loving heart strings, but I was raised in a home full of love. Parents who knew each other since the single digit ages and became highschool sweethearts. My family didn't have much in regards to money, yet there was no shortage of riches in other areas.


So, the fairytales became apart of me. As I lived in the puffy clouds of my innocence, they became engrained in the very fibers of the young girl, who would sing along, while dancing in her bedroom and dreaming of her own prince charming.


But, he never came. No guy ever fit the criteria, but I fell hard anyway. Wearing my heart on my sleeve lead to heartbreak after heartbreak. I became so good at it that it was like a part-time job that always ended in questions like...


Why me?

What's wrong with me?

Why NOT me?

What can I do to keep him around? 

How do I need to change? 

How can I be better?


But there was nothing wrong with me.

There was nothing I needed to change or improve. 


The reality was that I was young and literally living in a fantasy about what I thought love was. Believing that love was everything. That simply feeling that emotion could solve the wrongdoings of others. So blinded by thoughts of love being some superhero that could save me from a world full of people who were damaged and untrustworthy. 


But I was the villain. I was the one damaging myself with my choices without even realizing it. My heart would break and I'd piece it together, sometimes with other's hands. With their words. With their promises that would end up broken, just like the blood-pumping organ in my chest. 


Ironically, I mourned turning 30 when I was in the last months of my 29th year. I grieved because of my ignorance. The unknowledgable belief that this was simply a marker of my age, like a flag on the moon. I thought it would shine a light on what I'd feared, because I didn't realize how much I'd learn. How much I'd grow and heal. I couldn't see the woman I would become. 


So as I approach my 34th birthday in under a month, I can't help but ponder where I once was. And with that, comes eternal gratitude for the movies and storybooks that live in the heart of the 7, 10, 14 year old me. I just now have the amazing ability to see it all, through an informed lens. One that says the things I read and watched aren't real. But this life is. 


Although messy, scary and really fuckin painful at times, it's also incredibly beautiful and lovely. Filled with people full of awesome, intelligent minds and humors that make my cheeks hurt from laughing.


So I no longer want my prince charming to be like John Smith, The Beast, Aladdin or Prince Eric. He will be called Daddy in the privacy of our bedroom, Sir while on my knees and I will adore every cruel and loving thing he will bestow upon me, because each one is a gift to me. I will love him as a choice and not because its an expectation or a condition of my relationship. But it will be the foundation and fierceness behind my submission to him. My love and His, will be the sword in our stone. Meant for power and greatness, yet unmovable by anyone but He and I.


Ultimately, it doesn't find us. We create it by respecting each other and honoring the commitments we've made to one another. So yes, fairytales ruined me. But I've discovered a greater, more beautiful me because I've floated down from the clouds and live in the reality of now. In the moment with Him. No expectation of dream lands and I like it even more than the fantasy. 

4 days ago. July 2, 2022 at 8:39 AM

It's the thunder, as it rolls in the sky. Making sounds that can be frightening but familiar. The lightening flashes in the darkness, brightening the night. This is what you are. Frightening, familiar. My darkness and my light.


You are the very storm that rumbles through me. Wrecking my whole world, while making complete sense. Destroying my defenses, while washing away the old parts of me that no longer belong here. 





Sexy. Creative. Talented. Alluring. 


You draw me in. 

Captivating my very senses. 


I stand in awe of you, like the rainbow after the rain. Basking in brilliance of colors that decorate your heart. Feeling the warmth on my face as the sun in your eyes looks upon me. Gazing at the woman you love like no one else exists. 


The air is crisp. Damp. The wind is slight. Picking up my hair in the light breeze, as I enjoy the afterglow of the love you've poured upon me. Being held in the strength of your embrace. Comforted. Adored. 


Standing in the eye of you. The storm of my world. Ebbing and flowing. The intensity grows and wanes as it should, making goosebumps arise on my skin. I shiver and you smile.


Reveling in my body's reaction to the deepness in your voice as you say my name. It's a caress to my very eardrums and my heart dances for you. Moving to the rhythm you've set. The pace is yours. You are in control. I've simply been given permission to honor you with my movements. 


The swivel of my hips in the sexy lingerie you lust after me in. Your cock, straining in your dress pants. He pulses and aches to enter my tight, heat. To come home. The very cavern you own. For my cunt is yours. Responding to your call. 


So in the midst of pouring rain. My lips quivering, from the cold, my blood warms. Electricity igniting into the blaze that will never burn us. But will passionately tingle over our nerve endings until there's nothing left to do but fall asleep. Limbs wrapped around each other, in tangled sheets. And within my slumber, I find you and breathe deeply, knowing that you are my storm and I, your calm.


Not just before, but after.

Until tomorrow.

Until forever. 

1 week ago. June 27, 2022 at 11:26 PM

Hey Cagers!


I'm curious to know what y'all think is the sexiest way to dress breasts according to the following images. I'm trying to settle a debate, based on popular opinion lol. Thanks in advance! 🥰


1) Sweater 

2) Sexy Dress

3) Button Up

4) Lace

5) Satin

6) Animal Print

7) Sheer

1 week ago. June 27, 2022 at 5:52 AM

From yellow, red tipped roses, adorably comfy pajama tops, delicious cookies, a lovely scented candle, beautiful statue of my favorite animals that represent myself and my son, to the kind words I needed to hear...I couldn't be more grateful and humbled by this gift. It was random and unexpected, but it truly made my day. I have the best dad in the world ❤



2 weeks ago. June 23, 2022 at 3:24 AM

He comes up behind me. My hands still on the soapy glass I'm holding as his chest presses into my back and his arms come around my body. Holding me close, he breathes me in. The rumble from his chest, moves through me, so I feel his appreciation for my wearing the floral scented perfume he bought me for my birthday. 


Moving my hair to drape over one shoulder, my neck is exposed to his mouth. I feel his tongue first. Wet, warm and absorbing the flavor that hardens his body as I lean back into him. Lips are wet and sucking. Moving up and down the line of my jugular, making him thirsty. Like a hungry vampire, he bares his teeth and pierces my skin, making me cry out. 


There's pleasure and pain in a battle for my attention. Yet they both win. I'm absorbed. Fully in the moment. The dirty dishes, forgotten. Grabbing my wrists lightly, he removes the glass and sponge from my tight grip, placing them in the sink for later. Gently, my hands are rinsed of their sudsy covering. His strong hands gliding over my skin, thorough in their goal to remove all evidence of my task.


He doesn't dry them before our fingers are intertwined and I'm tugged to the bedroom behind him, leaving a trail of water drops in our wake. Once in our sanctuary, he walks around me with a predatory air about him, surrounding me with the scent of ocean and whiskey. He smells of salt and sunlight, in complete contrast with his current expression. He's watching me like a lion follows a sprinting cheetah with his eyes before taking chase. Yes, I am the cheetah, but I don't run. I simply stand in wait, mouth watering in anticipation, silently praying he'll order me to strip and get fucked. 


"You're making a mess of my floor, little girl." He says in his deep, husky tenor. 


My heart sinks. Looking down, I see the small puddles of water gathering by my feet. Shifting them anxiously, I wipe my dripping, wet hands on my clothes, making sure to run my fingers over my breasts as I do so. The white of my t-shirt making it all too easy to put my melons on display. I can feel my nipples hardening under my touch and his eagle-like scrutiny. I'm playing with fire here, yet I don't seem to care. 


With an evil chuckle, he commands quickly, like a whip on a horse's back. "Kneel."


Without question or delay, I do as I'm told, looking up at him expectantly. 


"Face down, ass up. And make sure to lift that skirt so Daddy can see your cunt."


My heart pounds in my chest, trying to escape. But with no way out, it serves well, making my body do his bidding. I feel wanton and exposed. My breathing has accelerated with the unknown as well as the knowledge that a consequence is coming. I feel my limbs tense in expectancy but the lash does not come. Instead he surprises me with what he says next. 


"Now use that pretty hair and clean up your mess."


Without thinking, I lift back up off the floor so I'm more level with his gaze. "What?!"


Fire blazes in his eyes. "Excuse me?"


"Why my hair, Sir? That's just... gross."


"Is it? Hmm." He says, as if he's considering this command, while rubbing his chin. 


My hopes soar at the thought he might change his mind.


"Is this a hard limit for you, little girl?"


Surprising me with the question, I just stare at him. 


"I asked you a question! I expect an"


"No Sir. It's not a hard limit."


"Aah. Good to know that your beautiful curls won't stand in the way of your obedience." He says with a slight smirk on his lips. 


I want to roll my eyes but know better. "No Sir. They won't."


"Are you calling your safeword?" He asks me seriously. 


"No Sir. I'm not. My apologies." Bowing my head in shame and regret. 


"Good girl. Now resume the position. My patience is waning." 


I return to my pose on the floor, hoping he's pleased. Without hesitation, I use my hair to clean up the water as best I can. And as I'm ordered to stop and place the dripping curls on my face, blocking my view of him, my eyes ache with unshed tears. The water has run cold and soaks my face, highlighting the feeling of humiliation I'm sure is his intention. 


"Look at the dirty, little whore. You act like you hate this, but your body betrays you. Such a beautifully wet pussy you have. And who does it belong to?"


"She's yours, Sir." 


"I'm sorry. I can't seem to hear you."


"She's yours, Sir!" I shout.


"Very good." He says, his voice like velvet against my ear drums. My pussy gushing with sweet nectar that makes it past my lips and drips down my thighs. 


Without warning, two fingers enter me deeply, swiftly. I reach the edge quickly. 


"No no, my sweet. Not yet."


I groan as my pussy walls clamp down on the digits of his hand, eager for release. Again he removes them, leaving me feeling empty and achy. I hear him suck my juices into his mouth and he hums in pleasure. 


"My little whore tastes so good."


Filling my greedy cunt with his thick, cock now. My face scraping roughly on the unyielding hardwood. His grunts pull me closer to climax as I push back, meeting him thrust for thrust. The sound of slapping skin and the smell of sex fill the air. Its heady and makes me wetter.


"You're not to cum. You do not have permission." He says with more control in his voice than expected, given how roughly he's taking me.


"What Daddy? No! Please let me cum. I'm so close!"


Moving my hair off my face and yanking me backwards by the roots, I see stars as he brings me flush against his chest. Our bodies, still joined in the most sacred of places and my nectar dripping down my legs to the floor. I've made another mess. 


He growls menacingly in my ear, my hair still held tightly in his fist. "My pleasure is your will. This is all that matters. This cunt drips for me because it is mine. As you are mine. My property. Your orgasms belong to me. You cum when I say."


Each sentence, emphasized with a deep thrust, hitting my gspot. Pleasure rocks through me and I bite my lip, the pain staving off my orgasm. I'm riding the precipice. The only line I'm allowed. It's his line. And just before I lose control, he roars loudly with his release, coating my insides with his precious seed.


He pulls out and releases my hair in one, swift motion. I feel empty. I feel used. I feel whole.


"I'll be waiting for you on the beach. Clean this mess and don't forget about the dishes." He tells me softly, with a longing in his voice I understand on a soul deep level.


Basking in the glow of his ownership of me, I simply say with a ghost of a smile on my lips, "Yes Sir."


And I make my way to the kitchen once again. 

2 weeks ago. June 21, 2022 at 5:11 PM

Have you ever been somewhere random and your body betrays you? Does something different? Interesting? Completely against how you believe your own body should respond to something? 


Maybe its not that you're somewhere random. Maybe its that you're in a familiar place, but your mind is drifting. Thinking about your kids, family, spouse, work, bills, life stresses? Possibly even letting every necessity carry you to dreamy vacations where you lay on the beach all day, drinking fruity yumminess and breathing in the salted air? Allowing the lapping waves to soothe your tired soul and stressed out mind? 


But in the midst of all of that, your pussy gets wet. Just a gush of betraying wetness seeps from your aching cunt, to your waiting panties that are so soft and sheer its like you're wearing nothing at all. Of course you're not on the beach, but working. At your desk, a blanket on your lap because you're a little chilly. I mean hell, you can't even blame the room's temperature for your body's reaction. 


Hmm. Maybe my pussy enjoys stress-thoughts. Maybe she enjoys my work load or everything im responsible for. Maybe the little, delicious, minx loves my contemplations of doctors visits, dentist appointments, taking vitamins, laundry and errands after work. 


I'm learning new things about myself every day and this one is interesting when it happens. So yes, I'm sitting at my desk, working with a wet pussy. Not surprising for a submissive. Im sure some of you fellow subbies who are reading this, have lovely juice between your lips too. Believe me, we're in the same boat. But what are your oddest reasons for getting wet? As time goes on, my reasons just get more and more weird.


Oh well. Looks like I should take an early break to take care of this. 😈


*smiles at my desk, while I type*

2 weeks ago. June 20, 2022 at 2:00 AM

As Doms go, he's totally Boss.


He is the cheese to my macaroni. 



2 weeks ago. June 17, 2022 at 5:14 AM

To be understood, is to be seen without explanation. 


So she offers her thanks, for seeing her even when she doesn't speak. 


Even when she makes no noise. 


When just her stare into the distance speaks volumes to you. 


She thanks you for loving her without question. 


Without condition. 


She thanks you for loving her without a request. 


You simply choose to love her because it brings you pleasure to do so.


Because there's no other option. 


She kneels before you with reverence, to thank you for being her lynch pin.


The lynch pin of her solace. 


Of her sanity in this season. 


She kisses your feet and thanks you passionately for being her safe place. 


For absorbing her fears. 


For taking her pain as a gift. 


You are hers, as she is yours.




Until eternity and then some. 

3 weeks ago. June 16, 2022 at 5:26 AM

Challenge: Screenshot the 1 pictures below that really stood out to you because of the awesome memory it generated. Then post it on your blog if you're able to and tell the memory behind it. Take us back to your childhood 🌌 (If you're not a premium and can't post the picture, just reference the corresponding number and link this blog) 



















Oh the nostalgia 💫💖😍


I'm sure that looking at all of these images and reading the captions are making you smile. I know I was smiling like a fool, when I first saw them. 😁🥰


#10 is definitely one of my favorites. Folding those papers in school and tossing them to your friends while the teacher's back was turned was the best lol. And of course, saving the ones you were given forever, to then find them and cherish the old paper with faded ink because it meant something. 💖

3 weeks ago. June 10, 2022 at 4:50 AM



What does it mean to me?


What does it represent in my mind? 


To many, it would be something to shy away from. 


A feeling that makes one cower and avoid. 


Yet I'm drawn to the thought of it.


Drawn to my own imaginings of what it'll be like. 





Am I afraid? 


Fearful of what something painful with Him will feel like? 


Or is it more so, that I fear the absence of it?


Something I'm familiar with, being controlled by another. 


One I trust. 


To have pain transferred from emotional to physical. 


Something to relish in.


Something to request. 


To absorb. 





Will I grow to love it?


To long for it?


Will pain by another's hand, make me wet? 


Make me drip?


Make me shiver in delight, instead of shuddering in terror?


I imagine it will change me.




I will no longer be the Me before pain, but will become the Me who finds pleasure in it.


The Me who finds pleasure in giving what He craves from me.


The exchange. 


The give and take of beautiful pain.





I guess that's the real question, isn't it?


Do I want this? 


Do I desire to give all of myself to another? 


The answer is simple. 




I absolutely do.


The intensity of what that means for someone like me.


A submissive who isn't quite sure if she's masochistic enough to take it.



But all I can do is try. 


For who?


For Him? 


For me?


There's no other choice but to try for us BOTH. 


"No one escapes pain, fear and suffering. Yet from pain can come wisdom, from fear can come courage, from suffering can come strength. If we have the virtue of resilience."     -Eric Greitens