Can you take a pic of the gag you have? I think I read somewhere it was cockshaped. Do you like it?

I’ve got a bunch of gags. (Variety is the spice of life.) But here:

I like it in the sense that I hate it. I have a little mouth so it’s kind of overwhelming and wearing it too long hurts my jaw a bit. Also, it makes me drool.

I may not be too good at behaving,

but I’m awfully great at showing remorse.

Thank you for your kind words.

To everyone who messaged me based on my post the other night, thank you. That I have this support only motivates me to work harder to get past this thing.

To the people I haven’t replied to yet, I appreciate you, but today is nuts and I’ll need a little bit of time to get back to you.

Something off-topic and not sexy (feel free to skip):

(Trigger warning ED and other blegh thoughts.)

A lot of this tumblr has, in a less overt way, been about me negotiating with my body. Maybe negotiating is the wrong word and maybe it’s not directly with my body. It’s more I’ve been negotiating with my perception of my body, with the range of bodies on this site, with the idea of positivity.

I’ve spent the past few years recovering from an eating disorder, with a couple of hiccups and bumps. I have pretty bad body dysmorphia, to the point where there are days I literally avoid looking at myself in the mirror because I can’t handle the possibility of what I might see. And even consciously knowing there’s no way someone can gain ten pounds overnight, I can’t help where my head goes sometimes, especially when I’m stressed out.

I have a ton of trouble perceiving my weight, and I have something that Sir jokingly calls period amnesia, where I totally forget every month that I’m going to get bloated and then when I do, it drives me nuts. And while Sir is always so supportive about this and so understanding and always says I can talk to him about it, I feel so guilty blabbering his ear off.

And I feel so guilty, like I’m a bad girlfriend and a bad submissive, for bringing this to the table. Because he tries so hard and is so patient with me, and I hate that he has to do that.

This isn’t to say I haven’t gotten better, this past year in particular have been huge for me. CrossFit has helped a lot with my perception and I find myself aiming for healthier things as milestones (mastering pull-ups, perfecting a squat snatch) as opposed to obsessing over how many inches around my wrist is. Of course, I still focus on the second one, but it’s waning and becoming less of a fixation.

The polar vortex and travel woes keeping me from the gym for 9 days at the beginning of this month have really messed with my head, though. And so I’ve been going nuts worrying that I’ve become suddenly and irreparably massive. I realize how absurd and problematic all of this is, and I’m so sorry to sit here and vent about it like this. This tumblr is the closest thing I have to a journal and it’s been so integral to helping me try to move beyond this.

But I am trying so hard to be able to be at peace with myself and have my body feel more stable, more like a home. And I can look at my progress of being comfortable enough to post pictures of myself to stripping down at an orgy full of people to know that maybe this, too, shall pass.

cinematic-slut:

Jennifer Lawrence kissing Lana del Rey

SIR. SIR. SIR. SIR.

Edit: Sir has informed me that this is actually not Jennifer Lawrence, but Lana del Rey’s sister. Sigh and whaaaat?

I literally just told a guy that I’m “more of an Upper Floor girl than a Public Disgrace girl.”

So I guess that’s just how I flirt now.

thinkivykink:

I like and am simultaneously completely intimidated by the prospect of being shared between two men. I know it’s super silly to be like “damn that’s a lot of penis”. But, really, damn. That’s a lot of penis.

I guess it’s totally the same as a man and a woman in terms of having two people to pay attention to. But I guess I am just vaguely overwhelmed at the prospect of how much penis that is.

This 2 am penis anxiety brought to you by the people at thinkivykink.

Oh hey remember when I said this?

Story coming soon…

The Party Sub, Part Eleven

I wish I could say that the evening ended on this amazing note and Sir and I came home and fucked each others’ brains out. But this wasn’t really the case. I had a wonderful night, but a lot of things compounded by the end of it made it a little rough.

I was tired, subspaced and starting to experience a pretty extreme sub drop. I was feeling some shame. When Sir and I tried to fuck in the loft, I couldn’t even get wet. I sucked his cock, but I kept getting distracted and nervous. There were some people up there messing around as well, and for the first time I was hyper-aware of it and it made me really insecure.

So, Sir just let me lie down and he held me, kissing me behind my ear and letting me come down from everything. Star came upstairs and cuddled up with us, and at some point the three of us just fell asleep.

When we woke up, I got dressed and Sir and I gathered our things and left. In the cab back, I started to feel better and even a little proud of myself. While I had left the party being quiet and a little short, by the time we were on the road, I was chatting and gushing and going over the night.

While I dropped a little bit the next afternoon, in the weeks that have passed, I realized how brave I was and how I really opened up to this new experience. If nothing else, I’d say I totally went all-in.

The takeaway is I’m kind of addicted to these sorts of parties and next time, I’ll know a little better what to expect and how to handle all of it. Because, yes, I’m going to make sure there’s a next time.