Last minute fancy dress selfie in someone else’s bathroom.
porn gives young people an unrealistic and unhealthy idea of how quickly a plumber will come to your house
I just booked my flight to see Sir this summer.
Seven weeks together.
I AM SO EXCITED GAH.
And that’s all I have to contribute to this.
The photo I liked of me in this skirt came out wayyy too dark. But, I’m heading out for the night and wanted to keep my commitment to posting a photo a day, so I offer this quickie. I honestly think it might be helping, even on the days I dread getting in front of a camera. So thanks for being on this journey.
This is why so many victims don’t report their assaults.
Love this but like to overstretch the metaphor here: It doesn’t matter if it isn’t squeaky clean. It doesn’t matter if it’s not a new “iMac.” It doesn’t matter if you lend your iMac out a whole lot or it’s an older model or any of that shit. You don’t go taking somebody’s iMac. Or Dell from the early 00s.
Leftovers, Part Three
Sitting down on the couch proved all the more difficult. The crotch rope pulled harder and my head was yanked back even further. I felt incredibly silly, and the only saving grace of the whole thing was the fact that it kept me from making eye contact with most of the people there.
Sir and Star were flanking me on the couch, which felt somehow a little bit protective and yet a little bit condescending with the way they were talking over me. Every so often, one of them would reach over to smooth my hair or check in with me. Sometimes, Sir would give the rope running down my back a little tug. I was too nervous to really participate in much of anything conversation-wise.
Eventually, Sir let me out so that I could use the bathroom, but sent me off there with one of his new purchases. It was a remote-control vibrator, and because it was a brand-new toy, Sir was obsessed with it like a kid in the days after Christmas. He kept making me wear it around his place, and figured that this party was an even better opportunity to give it a go.
Despite how humiliating it was, I consented and ducked into the bathroom to slip the bullet inside of myself.
Sometimes, I wear matched sets.
Sometimes, I wear undergarments.
“Well I don’t care, can’t pay attention, and I don’t give a damn about your intentions at all.”