I was resting at my friend’s house after asking our house guest to leave. I’d never asked someone to leave my house before, but a house guest had never done anything like that to me. My friend’s house was a safe place for me to recover. She was going out and gave us a key.
We’d had a lot of conflict–the conflict was partly about language. It definitely was conveyed in language. I was almost out of energy, nearing the end of my day, and wanted to figure out what was best for my spouse, so I made a list. “Ok, can I tell you some ideas I have, for
I wanted to have a ritual to talk to my dad, who died almost five years ago, of an overdose. He was a white guy, and at least some of my problems with white guys come from abuse from him. White guys I love have way too much power over me, especially when I want
I woke up with that feeling from before, that all the cells of my body were singing for you. Not loud singing–a quiet hum of desire. As if my cells were tiny sea creatures, singing for the salty sea water, or for the moon, to pull them in the tide. I’ve thought of this experience
I was having a fantasy about my friend. He’s a white guy elsewhere who seems emotionally unavailable, but gives sudden lightning strikes of kindness, appreciation, adoration. He disappears and seems to forget about me. Then praises me in a way that makes me feel faint. I tremble. The unexpected thrill feels amazing. I want his
stalking content warning: trauma, stalking, emotional harm from a former partner, mention of rapist I was looking at old photos and saw a pic of me and my most recent ex. When I broke up with him, he harassed me, then briefly stalked me. I’d definitely been harassed before, but it was my first time
what I’m doing I enjoy healing sexual trauma through love and BDSM. This blog documents love, sex, bright ideas, and BDSM enactment of past sexual trauma. Also there’s some smut in the form of erotica. And a ritual or two. The breast pics could be noted as well. I started this blog to have a
Hopefully you have sex with a goddess all the time. goddess comfort There’s this goddess I visit in my mind. She’s like me but giant, stronger, more stable, older. She’s very trustworthy. When I feel sad or scared, I go to her–she holds me. She’s a Mother Goddess. She sits on a colorful throne–the main
insert image here I looked up BDSM public domain images to plop into this post, and what I saw had nothing to do with what I actually did. the stuff we did wasn’t costly–I didn’t buy any costuming or gear. I’m not a thin white woman with big tits, restrained and slightly grinning, suggesting naughtiness.
content warning: pretend violence for healing what you suck is what you get Lately I want him to hold my head down on his dick really hard when he’s ejaculating, so his semen pumps down my throat, and I get a delighted, happy, used, close feeling. Also, it might be easier on my neck. I