before you go…


Bend over.
Grab the stool.
Arch your back.

Implement in hand.
The licks reign down.
His hand, my pussy.
Knees buckle.
Pulled up.

Grab. The. Stool.
Don’t let go.

He resumes.
Grabbing my waist.
Holding me steady.
Finding a stingy rhythm.
Involuntary screams.
Tears fall.
Beg for more.
Beg to stop.
There is more.
Crumple to the floor.
Heaving sobs.
Strong arms.
Big love.

Good girl.
Now I’m going to leave a mark.
Bend over.

Mission accomplished.
I am His.
I will not forget.




thinking [indifference] thursday

“We learn to stand up and just to walk away,
Sometimes the cold hearts aren’t worth the love or the hate.
Learn to let go, learn to walk away.
Up from the shadows I’m seduced by the light of the flame,
But this time I’m here to stay.”
      -Rise Against, A Beautiful Indifference

I just don’t know when to walk away and I really don’t know how to let go.
I don’t know how to find a happy medium between not caring and nothing but feelings. I’m usually at one end or the other. It is a lifelong struggle, and I am afraid it will become my fatal flaw.

And so it goes, that I am supposed to use my words. I am to talk it out, let people know, not let things become THINGS. Sigh. The problem with that is – I don’t know when to speak and when to keep my mouth shut. And I get it wrong almost every. single. time.


I get stuck! My brain gets stuck on these things! Moments or phrases, seemingly unimportant to anyone else involved, linger and taunt, until I can no longer think straight. They play on a continuous loop in my head, casting shadows on anything good. Pushed aside for a few blissful moments here or there, but always in the back of my mind and on the tip of my tongue.


Here’s the deal: I want people to understand. I want them to acknowledge what I feel is real. I guess what I want is validation. And when that moment never comes, when I am forced to accept that no one will see things the way I see them, I feel a little hopeless and I get a little lost.

I do not expect the world to agree with me, or feel how I feel. I do not think I’m right all, or even most (or hell, even half!), of the time. I admit I’m a mess, but when I have feelings about something, I’d like them to be recognized and comprehended, at least every now and again. I realize that’s quite a tall order… and far too much to ask or expect. At least I am aware of that and I’m not totally bonkers!


But for now, I find myself trapped in this place, not knowing how to silence these overwhelming things in my head. I have no clue how to let it go, without giving up or blocking or numbing entirely.

It’s time. I have to figure it out, because this shit is weighing me down.


“If you let go a little, you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace.”       ~Ajahn Chah

<iframe width=”420″ height=”315″ src=”; frameborder=”0″ allowfullscreen>


D/s, love… just little things


Oh, I know… groan, eye roll, grumble, grumble… but I believe with all my heart that it’s true: The little things really ARE the big things. 

Don’t misunderstand! I LOVE the big things. The grand gestures are fantastic! Big things are fun! Extensive scenes are exciting! Everyone likes the show from time to time. Yes, big things are great, but they are not what makes a life. Big things do not maintain, they are just the bonus. Because (follow me a second, here):

Love is the biggest thing of all, yet love is found in the smallest of things.


I feel much the same about our D/s dynamic. In this house love is so intertwined with D/s, we can no longer separate the two…so of course I feel the same about them both! Duh! The big productions are fun and lovely and highly anticipated. But the core, the foundation, the meat of our D/s (and our love)? That is daily life and all the little things that make us who and what we are.


D/s is fixing Sir’s coffee twice a day.

D/s is Sir kissing & fixing my necklace, so that I can make a wish.

D/s is Sir making breakfast every morning.

D/s is rope on my leg, even when we are rushed.

D/s is tasks every day, to keep me mindful.

D/s is a quick look, word, or touch – reaffirming who is in control.

D/s is a stolen spank, just because.

D/s is a sneaky choke at Easter, distracting from family.

D/s is sitting on the floor, resting my head on His leg.

D/s is Sir brushing my hair, then holding it in a tight ponytail while we laugh at the television.

D/s is being sent off to the bath while Sir does the dishes.

D/s is me cleaning the house with a happy heart.

D/s is making good choices, even when it’s hard.

D/s is listening, on both sides.

D/s is parenting together, because Mom is just as important as sub.

D/s is date night with cuffs on – just, yes!

D/s is humble. Humble mind, humble heart, humble body

D/s is putting the other one first. Always.

D/s is mutual respect. The best bosses respect those under them and my Sir is the best.

D/s is ‘yes, Sir’…or ‘no, Sir’… but always ‘Sir’, everywhere, all of the time.

D/s is trust; without it, nothing works.

D/s is laughter. SO much laughter!

D/s is getting the water cups ready before bed, no matter what.

D/s is life. Everything about this life of mine screams D/s.

D/s is love. Love is found in the little things, and the little things are what make our D/s dynamic so huge and all-encompassing.


“Another day of breathing, waking next to you
The world could end and I’d be alright where I am
To paint the world a little more blue and show you how
As the distant morning shines through me
You’ll never have to go it alone”
                           -Strung Out, Go it Alone