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Roses are red, Bruises are blue

My journey of love and depravity.
5 days ago. Wed 14 Aug 2019 07:04:25 AM IDT

Besides the obvious sadomasochistic bedroom play, giving rules, making orders, and creating routines, there are many “Dominant” things Sir does in our day to day lives that make my submissive heart melt and my thighs quiver. Because our dynamic is so diverse, these things range from traits of a Master to those of a Caregiver. Here a some that come to mind:


1.       Holds my wrist rather than my hand

2.       Puts his hand on the small of my back to guide me in the direction he wants me to go

3.       Grabs my ponytail and pulls me back when I start to walk away without his consent

4.       Loops his finger in my collar to pull me closer for a kiss or to bite my neck

5.       Sits on the edge of the couch or bed and pats his thigh for me to crawl to him

6.       Pulls me along behind him when leading me somewhere (through stores, restaurants, etc.)

7.       Pets my head

8.       Orders my food at restaurants

9.       Tells me at least once every day that I am his

10.   Angles my head by hooking his thumb under my jaw line

11.   Calls me HIS slut, HIS whore, HIS favorite plaything, HIS pet

12.   Smirks at my pouts and whimpers

13.   Opens my door

14.   Talks about me to others in front of me, the same as if I weren’t there

15.   Gives my cheek a little slap when I say something sassy (mostly playful but with a tiny hint of a warning)

16.   Buckles my seat belt

17.   Tells me to go to bed

18.   Smokes cigars and drinks Old Fashioneds

19.   Roles his sleeves up to his forearms

20.   Brings me my stuffies when he senses I need one to cuddle


The list is endless. Being a Sir, my Sir, is just who he is. It exudes from his pores. And I’m the lucky kitten who gets to call him mine.



1 week ago. Mon 12 Aug 2019 03:44:35 AM IDT

“Express yourself already!” He begged.

So I took a knife and lightly dug

into the edge of my palm.

I let the drops flow

nearly to the forearm.

One by one I collected them

into the lid of a thermos.

Still warm, I diluted them with my tears


... and I painted us.




1 week ago. Sat 10 Aug 2019 12:01:23 AM IDT

Waiting patiently in the airport for the plane ✈️ that’s going to take me to my Sir 👨🏼 💕. Taking  this opportunity to enjoy some Bugles fingernails, a strawberry ring pop, and The Office on Netflix.


It’s been a long hectic week and I am ready to be “home” so I can recenter. Sir has this way of making me forget every problem and every fear with merely his presence. This airplane can’t get here soon enough.


Happy Fri-yay everyone! Enjoy your weekend.

1 week ago. Fri 09 Aug 2019 04:15:24 AM IDT

I've recently discovered the amazing work of Chiara Bautista. Her dark, mysterious, and poetic illustrations speak to me on a level most would find weird. The collection that stopped me in my tracks is the star wolf and the bunny girl. They were such a shockingly accurate reflection of Sir and I that I became immediately obsessed with finding and ogling every sketch in the collection.


Some images (not posted here) explain that the star wolf is the night sky and the bunny girl is the moon. One night, the moon fell from the sky and the star wolf went to hunt for her. But when he found her, he decided that he had to keep her for himself despite the universe's call to bring her back.















1 week ago. Wed 07 Aug 2019 12:09:51 AM IDT

Make no mistake about it, long distance relationships are hard. Brutal even. But are they worth it?


In the day and age of social media, entire lives are portrayed with a snapchat filter and short clever caption. However, by the age of 21 or so, you start to realize that real life isn’t the singular moments you see when scrolling through your Instagram feed. Real life is dead end jobs, sweat pants, messy hair buns, a never ending stack of bills, and fighting over who put the empty ice cube tray back in the freezer.  


I spend most of my blog posts recounting the happy, fun, passionate, and sexy times of mine and Sir’s relationship. Because when we’re together, that’s what it is; happy, fun, passionate, and sexy. But that’s two days a week, what about the five we spend alone? Those five days are just as much a part of our reality. So I want to talk about that today. What does our relationship look like without the weekend filter?

Five days a week we wake up alone, we go to bed alone, we go to work and come home to an empty house, we eat dinner across from an empty seat, we sit alone of the couch reading or watching tv, we pay our own bills and make our own plans and have our own friends and we just… survive.


In D/s relationships this is exceptionally difficult. I need daily guidance and affirmations in order to thrive and Sir needs to lead and care for his kitten in order to feel content. We both thirst for physical touch and we both worry… well, honestly we worry about me and if I’m going to have some kind of panic attack or breakdown on my own someday without his calming presence to center me.


Each week we get the glorious feeling of being reunited with our soul’s counterpoint. We get the feeling of coming home, of walking into the arms of the one person we know loves us more than any other. But every week we also have to say goodbye. We have to walk away from our other half over and over again, knowing that we’ll continue to do it over and over again in the future.


Then there’s the financial hardship of travel. We’re lucky enough that we’re both in a place to be able to shoulder the burden of weekly travel expenses. But make no mistake, the cost of weekly flights, gas to and from the airport, and the price of extended airport parking amounts to a small monthly fortune. We could pay a mortgage and electric bill with our combined monthly travel expenses.


Since long distance isn’t always easy, there’s the added worry that one day the other will just say they’ve had enough, that they can’t keep half-living like this, that the sacrifice will become greater than the reward. We both worry that our relationship will become a stifling burden to the other and we’ll be left devastated but not really confused by their decision to end it.


That leads us to the hardest part of any long distance relationship - deciding how it ends. Do you plan to be long distance indefinitely? If not, one of you has to sacrifice to close the gap. One of you has to quit your job, sell your home/end your lease, leave your family and friends, pack up all of your belongings, and trek across state lines where you’re left to start over while the other person gets to keep their job, house, friends, with virtually no sacrifice at all. Can this kind of sacrifice even be made without eventual resentment? Can a person who truly loves their partner and wants the best for them expect their partner to give up so much? At what point do you put your partner above your relationship and say “no, I can’t let you sacrifice so much for me, for us?” Or do you allow them to make that sacrifice and spend the rest of your life trying to make it worth it for them? None of these answers are easy, but they have to be asked of each other and they have to be answered. It’s the only way to know where the relationship is going. Is there a light at the end of the tunnel or are you just going to ride it out and enjoy it while it lasts?


For Sir and I the end result has always been us living together. But it doesn’t mean the journey is now or will always be easy. In fact, it hasn’t and it won’t be. But it has been beautiful. It’s been full of love and light. It’s been full of promises made and kept. Full of laughter and bittersweet tears. It has been the single best thing that has ever and will ever happen to me.

Long distance relationships aren’t easy. They’re hard. They’re full of sacrifices and lonely nights. They require more work and energy to stay connected than a regular relationship. They require scheduled time to sit and FaceTime or chat on the phone. They require open and honest communication to avoid jealousy and misunderstandings. They require all of the effort a regular relationship requires but with double the effort and without the reward of their presence.  


But when you find the one, your ONE, there isn’t a mile you wouldn’t cross, a sacrifice you wouldn’t make to be next to that person.






2 weeks ago. Tue 06 Aug 2019 12:31:31 AM IDT

It was a busy and still perfect weekend. Typically our weekends are spent exploring, dining, and socializing. This weekend was filled with chores, errands, and grown up business. But one thing remained the same; our nights were filled with play.

It was nice having Sir with me during the day to keep me focused, help me juggle my responsibilities, and at one point keep me from full on panic mode (I don’t do well in crowds). And at night I watched the light in his eyes flicker and burn as all traces of my partner disappeared and only my Sir remained.


Friday nights are always more intense, more passionate and demanding. At that point, we’ve been separated for 5 days and the sexual desire and longing has been building with each passing hour. By Friday night I have a hungry ravenous Wolf. His self-control strained and his need to claim and possess barely contained under the surface. As soon as we walk through the front door, the tension in the air becomes palpable and I know it won’t be long, only minutes or seconds, before his impressive form is hovering above me and his bite marks are blooming on my flesh. On these nights, Sir is never satisfied until I’m fighting against my 8th, 9th, or 10th orgasm, half moaning half whimpering, pleading for a reprieve.


Saturday nights are more structured. They typically include ropes or scenes. I crawl and pose like a good girl while Sir ties me up like his perfect marionette doll. Sometimes I’m his rope bunny, sometimes I’m his slave. Sometimes I’m securely tied to the bed or a chair or whatever random thing catches Sir’s eye and sometimes I’m left free and trusted to remain still while Sir tortures me in the most devious and delicious ways. While our toy collection is ever growing, our favorite always remains the simple natural feel of Sir’s leather belt wrapped around his hand and stinging as it licks my skin. When Sir is feeling generous during impact play, he’ll take me to the brink of subspace and then ask if I’ve had enough or if I want him to go harder – although he knows my answer is always harder. I think he just enjoys hearing me say “more please.”


This Saturday night I got to be Sir’s rope kitten. I got to prance around in my ears and tail, sit like a good patient little kitten while he tied me up in positions that only a masochist like me would enjoy, and then give me all the pets and praises before using me like his favorite play thing. As always, I was left exhausted, satisfied, and gazing at Sir with googly heart eyes. 



2 weeks ago. Fri 02 Aug 2019 12:47:32 AM IDT

As we all know, every dynamic is different. Even if you carry the same titles as those in another relationship, there are things that will be acceptable for one couple and not the other, and vise versa.


One example of this is the DDlg side of Sir's and my relationship. 


While most subs in DDlg dynamics call their male Doms "Daddy," I always refer to Sir as "Sir," even when I'm feeling little.


Some littles are little ALL of the time and some have designated little space time. For me it's more of an overlapping and intertwining of all the sides. Sure, there are times that Sir sets aside a morning or afternoon for me to be little and focus on that part of myself. But more often than not, I'm just Sir's submissive who happens to have little tendencies.


For us that looks like lots of things. I might be naked and covered in bite marks while Sir ties me to a stool with rope and I start humming Hakuna Matata. I might be in a professional day dress and heels with my collar tightly fastened as I jump over sidewalk cracks (to avoid breaking my Mama's back). I might be coming down from the high of an intense M/s play session, ankles tied to the corners of the bed, with welts forming from the sting of the belt, and snuggling my prized Pandicorn stuffie.


One little quality that I don't really possess is brattiness. I have no negative feelings towards brats or brat tamers, it just isn't a part of our dynamic. The slave side of my submission is stronger than the little side in that regard. I am quick to obey and always eager to please. The idea of sassing my Sir or defying him (even playfully) makes my tummy hurt. And Sir would not think it was cute.


However, one part of my little side that many Doms would probably find annoying but my Sir finds adorable and endearing is my obssessive neediness. I want all of Sir's attention, all of the time. I need constant affirmations to feel content. I wish it weren't so, but alas. I'm never rude or bratty when Sir is busy and unable to fawn over me all day (stupid work!), but my mood and feelings are heavily swayed by the amount of time we've spent together or communicating in a day. I'm also not shy about saying "HEY LOOK ME AT, LOVE ME, PET ME, PLAY WITH ME!"



If there are any littles/middles out there who are looking for more little/middle friends, feel free to message me. I want to hear all about what being little looks like for you.



2 weeks ago. Wed 31 Jul 2019 09:56:49 PM IDT

I’m in the mood for something deliciously bad. Normally girls my age go out and find random guys to make their bad decisions with but that has never been me. I think there’s something really pedestrian about the kind of fun they seek out. It’s not an issue of morality, it’s more… an aesthetic thing I guess. I don’t want their boring, common ways of being bad. I want ways that rattle me to my bones and send me to my knees in repentance. I want to be the kind of bad that leaves me wrung out with bite marks blooming purple all over my body. I want to go to the brink of not knowing myself, Sir taking me there and holding me by the neck and making me stare at an entire reckless realm of possibility.


I mean, what’s the point of sex if you don’t feel like every dark crevice of your soul has been exposed to the light? If someone doesn’t take your lust and your shameful thoughts, and twist them into a spell that leaves you panting for more?


I found that for myself. I have a normal life too – friends, a career, my own house, and I get to make some of my own decisions - but whenever I think about Sir, about what sex with him is like, I don’t ever imagine slow romantic movie scenes or riding it out reverse cowgirl style. I think about the feeling of my veins being sliced open by the sheer desire of the One who owns me, I think about pain and pleasure – so intertwined that I can no longer tell one from the other. I think about being handled and cherished, used and worshiped. I think about my shattered lifeless body sprawled out across his mattress with sweat gliding down between my breasts and cum sticking to my inner thighs.


In the daylight I may prefer to stand, but at night… oh at night I prefer to crawl.



2 weeks ago. Tue 30 Jul 2019 07:47:44 PM IDT

Towards the beginning of our courtship, my Sir asked me, What are some of your fantasies?

My reply - My “fantasies” range from mundane and romantic to completely depraved. In my day to day moment to moment life I dream of a loving, affectionate, and protective Sir who I can unabashedly adore; a best friend who I can respect and learn from; a lover who can make me ache with need with just a look. I imagine my hand in his as we walk the lake. I imagine his confident smirk when he orders my favorite dessert despite my protests. I imagine his hands in my hair when he kisses me both demanding and possessive, but also passionately and full of love.

And at night when it’s dark and quiet my mind plays out scenarios in which I kneel, facing my Sir in a black lace bra and pantie set, head bowed, as still as possible. My Sir sits in his favorite chair, shirt collar unbuttoned, a crystal glass of amber liquid dangling from the hand that rests idly on his knee. His form imposing, like a God on his throne. When he finally speaks, “Crawl to me, kitten” his voice seems loud, a startling contrast to the silence. I crawl without hesitation, eager to be closer to him, to feel his hands on me. When I reach his feet, he touches his index finger to my chin, a sign that I may look at him. When our eyes meet, it is not my partner I see, but my Sir. “Safe word?” he asks; a sign that things are about to get uncomfortable. “Cherry” I reply, my voice quivering with both fear and excitement…


Never, not even when I wrote this response, did I think that I would have this. That this dynamic actually existed. I had no idea that every thing I ever wanted, and what I didn't even realize I needed, was on the other side of my computer screen. He's my dark knight. The hero and the villain. He melts my heart and he makes my thighs quiver. I will never ever want for another. 



2 weeks ago. Tue 30 Jul 2019 04:54:05 AM IDT

Sir and I are blessed to be able to see each other every weekend despite our approximate 700 miles of separation. The downside of this weekly schedule is saying goodbye every single week. It’s not just the “oh my God I’ll miss you so much” kind of hard, it’s the psychological havoc that it brings about.


Being in a monogamous 24/7 D/s relationship (a combination of M/s and DDlg dynamics) brings a connection so profound that when we’re physically together it becomes a life-force. He is my sole focus. He is the center of everything. He speaks, I listen. He asks, I answer. He orders, I do. He leads, I follow. I live and breathe him. My eyes always seeking him out, my body instinctively drawing nearer to him. I get to live in my euphoric submissive bubble for 48 hours; no decisions of my own, no want or need going unfulfilled, no loneliness or lack of purpose, no worries or stress. I am just blissfully his. Owned, pampered, used, adored, hurt and healed.


Then Sunday night comes and it’s time to say goodbye, time to venture out into the great big scary world all alone for 5 days where I'll have to make some of my own choices, make sure my own needs are met, remember things on my own, go places by myself... It requires me to meticulously and painstakingly adjust an internal dial an exact degree. To turn off the little, turn off the slave, but somehow still maintain the submissive. Sever the life-force but still remain connected. It becomes increasingly more difficult each time. Each time we say goodbye I fear the plausible reality in which I scream and cry and bang on his chest, fall to my knees and cling to his leg only to be removed by physical force, or worst of all the possibility that rather than turn the dial, I decide to flick the switch completely and just turn it all off. When that last scenario plays out in my head; its both a nightmare and occasionally a guilty longing. It would be a lie to say that the temptation to turn it off, to feel nothing, doesn’t sometimes have its allure.


So each week as the feelings of loneliness and painful longing, confusion and fear, begin to rise up as my Owner regretfully walks away and I struggle with the dial, I ask myself ‘Is it worth it?’ and every single week the answer is a resounding yes. Always yes. The struggle to find a balance, the sacrifice of time, the lonely nights, the hard choices, the grown-up responsibility, the obsessive worry, and the undesired independence are worth it. They’re the price of maintaining a long-distance D/s relationship. They’re the price for choosing us, for choosing to be his. And there isn’t a price I wouldn’t pay to be his.