what do you say

What is the best feeling in the world?

For real, I am asking. I was awake most of the night pondering this question, but that’s a whole other thing. So, the absolute best feeling that you have ever felt in your entire life – what was it?

Was it something so simple as that first sip of coffee in the morning?
Maybe how you feel after a hard workout?
Would you say the best you’ve ever felt was from an illicit drug?
Your wedding day?
The birth of a child?
Praise? Attention? Recognition?
Finishing something?
Sinking into a bathtub?

What the fuck is the best feeling in the world?

I’ve done all of those things – the coffee, the workout, the drugs, the wedding, the birth three times over, the accolades, the completing, the sex, the bath – and so much more.
They all have their merits, big or small. All can bring joy and feel amazing, but the best?

An easy answer would be bringing life into the world because it is so everything – BUT just for a second, lets take childbirth out of the equation. Now what is the best feeling?

I really do want to know.

For me the best feeling is…

Total submission.
Giving up not just my body, but my mind, my heart, my very self.
Absolute trust.
A beautiful trip to subspace.
The moments when I am replaced with so much Dominance and Love that I cease to exist on this plane. I become transported to a different dimension where my brain is quiet (no easy feat). The place where anxiety and fear don’t exist – because there just is no more room inside.
Complete surrender.
Wholly shattered yet complete.
There is no better high to chase.
Not for me.

… and that is how I know that I am submissive to the core.

But I wonder if that is how other submissives feel? Or Dominants, on the flipside?
If anyone is still around reading this, I’d LOVE for you to weigh-in.

Happy Tuesday!!
~shygirl ♥



I don’t want to choose the lightbulbs.


Oh sure, I am capable of choosing lightbulbs. If lightbulbs were on my shopping list, or my task list from Sir, I’d choose some mighty fine bulbs and be happy to do it. But when Sir and I are in the aisle together, I just have no desire to choose a bulb.

In fact, if we are in that aisle together, I do not even want to offer input about the selection of lightbulbs.

Now, if I needed a specific bulb for something He knew nothing about, I’d be tickled pink to provide the required information. No problem! If, however, the bulbs are for something I have no involvement in? Well… frankly, kind Sir, I don’t give a damn.

Oh I know that’s different – there were years upon years where I did give a damn about EVERY little thing. I needed to have the final say about everything. That was pretty good cover, I admit. No one ever guessed that what I needed most was a shifting of power.  And now… Hallelujah! The power has shifted. Despite my endless struggles and contrary behavior, Sir and I are moving together in a way we never have. He is the leader and I am the overjoyed follower. Happy sighs all around.


Where was I? Oh yes, I don’t want to choose the lightbulbs! I also do not want to choose the parking space, the route, the restaurant, the movie, the drink, the itinerary, or really much of anything else… I like not making those decisions. I feel loved and cared for when my Sir simply takes the choices away.

No need to fret, I still function just fine when He is working. I make all manner of decisions with [mostly] free reign to do so. I’m pretty great at managing daily life.  But when we are together…

I don’t want to choose the lightbulbs.



Removing clothes

Legs bent to chest

Hands holding down

Tongue, mouth, teeth

Don’t move


Teeth, tongue, mouth

Hands pushing, holding

Stop moving

Pinned hands, pinned legs

Mouth, teeth, tongue


Take a turn

Positions change

Hands freed

Roaming, grasping

Aching to taste

Hands only

Two hands

Bending to taste

Pushed back, held fast


Edge of bed

Grabbing face

Open wide

Thrusting, gagging


Sucking, desperate

Ramming into throat

Slick with spit

More, now

Sucking, licking, choking

Tears falling


Teasing, prepping

Swift entry

Legs up, hand encasing neck

Pounding, rhythmic


Pushing over


No rest


Shallow breathing

Owning, surrendering

Strengthening hands

No mercy

Diving off the cliff again

Always too much

Never enough

Giving over


Relentless pounding

No time, only feeling


Pushed over the brink



Souls and bodies intertwined

Used, adored

Cherished, taken


All that is


For two