“Sweetheart, sometimes I think you just want to be found. You aren’t trying very hard at all.”


Just some facts.


It’s when he asks for those certain things that she blushes, bites her lip, tells him to keep his voice down. And she worries everyone around has abandoned their own preoccupations to hear what he had just whispered.

“I can’t possibly do that right here.”

It’s funny how fickle the concept of “can’t possibly” can be.


midsummer daydreamer by Seatory on Flickr.





Look at me. I want you to look into my eyes and tell me how proud it makes you to suffer for me. I want you to tell me that it makes your slutty little pussy wet.

(Also, Team Yellow Clothespin, woot woot)

It’s so hard for me to admit I like it or I want it. I so often hide behind some struggling victim persona to avoid having to confront the shame of actually enjoying it. But I’d like to become brave enough to stand behind all of my desires, even the most depraved, and this might just be the way to do it.


Confession: Sometimes, I’m only wearing my sexy undergarments because I’m too lazy to do laundry and wash my everyday ones.



The privilege of sleeping on a bed is expensive, pet. But you’re willing to pay, aren’t you?

There’s this sick, strange, scary little corner of my head where stuff like this lives.


“How long is forever? Sometimes, just one second.”

– Lewis Carroll.


Kitty thought she was doing so well. 

But she’d completely forgotten

No pets on the furniture.