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Let's take a moment to share wholly and honestly
1 month ago. August 17, 2022 at 4:12 AM

Well after 3 years, my dynamic with my Dom has ended. Not entirely unexpected but hurts nonetheless. 

Not sure how to interact with him now, although we both want to remain friends. I just don't know what kind of friends we'll be for each other, or if that's even beneficial for either one of us. I asked for some time apart to figure it out.

Let me know if any of you lovely cage members have tips on getting over a break up, I could surely use them right about now

2 years ago. September 29, 2019 at 4:10 AM

Is it possible to ever feel good enough for someone else? To feel like you can make someone as happy, satisfied, and cared for as they make you? This infuriating thought keeps buzzing around my mind and pinging against my skull. I'm new to this lifestyle and although my Dom has saintly amounts of patience for me I can't help but feel insecure or silly about some of things he wants me to do and I know he'd get great pleasure from.

And I know insecurity is about the least sexy thing a woman could be but how am I supposed to rewire a brain that's been told by media, society, art, etc that I'm simply not what's desirable? He has never once tried to change who I inherently am and makes a point of telling me all the things he loves about me, but these thoughts consistently nag at me.

Sometimes He mentions something He'd like to try or work on with me, not knowing that it's something I'm incredibly insecure about. For instance, I am a sub but also a brat and it wasnt until I dived a little deeper into learning about BDSM that I found many look down on brats or see them as 'fake subs'. That's when I learned to be ashamed of being sassy even in a fun/flirty way. So when He says "steady on" as a light warning when I get that way, it digs a lot deeper than I think He realizes. And then I'm too embarrassed/ashamed to discuss those feelings.

I realize these feelings are not my Dom's fault, that it's something that I have to seriously work on with myself but I'm at a loss on how to do so.

3 years ago. September 3, 2019 at 1:51 AM

When all the songs make sense. Better yet, knowing yours will be better, is better.

When you feel hope and fear and warmth and belonging in our future, yes, our future. You know the one I'm talking about. The one where nothing is perfect because nothing ever can be but it feels as though it is anyway. Where a Sunday afternoon spent going over bills or folding laundry together seems picturesque.

When someone is both your raging fire and your cotton sweater. Both able to ignite your passion into a sweaty delicious mess and still hold and caress you even after you've caught your breath.

When you understand why adults always said "You'll understand when you're older". When you asked your mother when will I know and her entirely non-descriptive answer of "You'll just know" now makes sense.

When everything is going to be okay. When you think the world is harsh and unkind and unforgiving until you remember that it also let us speak to each other. Learn, grow, and thrive for each other. When the universe made up of rocks and heat and pressure feels like velvet under your touch.

3 years ago. August 29, 2019 at 11:39 PM

I went for a late summer drive tonight and imagined you in the passenger seat, holding my hand while my thumb ran back and forth across the back of yours.
I don't know exactly why I needed the drive, I simply ran out to pick something up from the store and didnt want to stop. The music was turned up, windows rolled down, and AC on full blast to combat the heat left over from the day. I still wore my sweatshirt though, the long sleeves with the zipper pulled up to my neck felt nice wrapped around me despite the warmth.
I drove back to my hometown and showed you around. The restaurant I used to work at, my old school, the pool I practically lived in when I was younger, even where my friends used to live. I even pointed out the spots where the teenagers still run away to when they think they're being sneaky.
My story played out in street names, lawns, and pavement. Words pale in comparison to this. Writing is a wonderful tool but this. This is me. Parts of me anyway. The beginning chapters which set the plot and the characters. And when the sun has just set upon the scene, there's a beautiful stillness to it all named Nostalgia.
I want to truly show you this small town someday that shows so much more than I could even try to explain. My memories wrap around the trees and lampposts like the wind, just so softly whispering past.

3 years ago. August 8, 2019 at 3:14 AM

It's becoming something other than yourself. Body writhing with pleasure, screams that aren't yours escaping your throat, carnal senses once a distant memory in your DNA now brought to the surface in a quick rush. They suffocate rational thought, suffocate your sense of time, suffocate your sense of you. Breaths no longer contain air and your body no longer contains you. You're pulled away, dizzy and weightless.
"Count to fifty."
The sounds reaching you don't make sense, jumbled and disoriented. Honey, there's a great ocean between us and the waves are crashing.
"Count to fifty." Again, the voice commands. Yes, fifty. Yes, anything you want.
One. Your mouth forms the word, forces it out.
Two. Head buried in the pillow, voice muffled from the fabric.
Three. You feel the bed once more. Feel your body coiled tightly.
You count and the world reforms around you, heavy and sweaty.
You count and you're pulled back slowly, toward the soft shore you know is in the distance.
Fifty. The sand is warm beneath you and the waves lick your feet.