Chrysanth Moss(sub female)
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5 months ago •
Jul 24, 2025
5 months ago •
Jul 24, 2025
Chrysanth Moss(sub female) • Jul 24, 2025
After reading this thread, I felt like sharing a little too, even though I’m still figuring all this out.
For me, I don’t think there was one big moment per se - more a quiet, slow unfolding. I think part of me always knew. The way longing often begins in fiction... characters that weren’t necessarily “dominant” or “submissive” but carried a certain energy. Contrast. Tension. Softness behind sharpness. It always stirred something in me. When I was younger I was drawn to the antiheroes. The soft villains. Catwoman. Evil Spiderman. Poison Ivy. That strange flutter in my stomach that made me feel alive. In real life, things were mostly vanilla. But I feel like something sat just under the surface - a sense that if I peeked around the corner, something deeper might be there. Eventually the ache in my stomach was too loud to ignore. I started speaking to someone - a friend of a friend. It turned into my first D/s dynamic. I was awkward, unsure, a bit feral maybe. But he saw something and held it gently. It was consensual, respectful, hot - and more than anything, it felt real. I’ll always be grateful for that. The fire never really went out after that. But shame dimmed it. And when I fell in love, I told myself I had to choose. I buried this part of myself. Tried to “move on.” But I kept circling back to it in dreams, art, writing, ache. Eventually it cracked open again. And this time I couldn’t close the door. So I’m here. Not exactly looking for attention. Just allowing myself to be seen, even if only slightly. Because it hurt to keep shrinking. It’s taken a long time to get here. And I guess I was craving reflection. — C |
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