Damn you, Craftsmate, for making me have to rehang half of my dresses and jackets that morning.
But, okay, yeah.
It was a good morning.
closet
I want to be kept with the rest of your possessions.
Something to be simultaneously cherished and cast aside.
I’ve discussed before on here how much I enjoy the notion of being “put away”. It ties a lot into the idea of being kept, of feeling like property. And it stems from a feeling of being used on someone else’s terms completely and relying fully on someone’s whim to have me around for amusement. There’s also something very neat about it all, tidy and ordered.
Obviously, it wouldn’t be a sort of permanent arrangement in the slightest. It’s one of those fantasies that’s a little hard to execute and probably more fun to imagine than to actually carry out.
Elle and I had a joke that she was going to lock me in her closet one day and keep me there. I told her I’d be down with it just as long as she let me out sometimes to feed me. She responded, “nah. If I had you locked in my closet, the only reason I’d be taking you out was to fuck you.”
Well then.
Keep me in my place?
(via sexual)