Tonight’s my last night with Sir for a while.
We’re sitting beside each other on his couch: reading tumblr, snuggling, sneaking some touches. I’m going to miss him a lot and we’re not sure yet exactly when we’ll see each other again date-wise.
I’ve sustained a few little bumps and bruises from today. Nothing major, but enough to let me be a pouty girl and put this photo of a girl with a very bruised ass up and pretend that I can identify with her.
But, crap, I’m going to miss him a lot.
Do the words Cunt, Fucktoy, Painslut, and Cumdump appeal to you?
I’m now accepting applications for a new play partner/potential subbie girl into pain and humiliation play. If you think this might be you, send me an off-anon message and tell me about yourself (age, approximate location, interests, name or pseudonym, etc.) My personal information will also…
Yes, I am aware this exists and I am wholeheartedly in support of it. I even suggested it, after seeing Casey do it.
So, yeah, if this appeals to you, go right ahead. I’m clearly biased, but he’s a great guy. In fact, I’m honestly a little excited and happy for him, if this pans out.
And OBVI I GET TO READ THE APPLICATIONS soooo.
What he puts up with all the time.
He’s the kind of person where if he breaks the toaster, he gets the toaster repaired.
I’m the kind of person where if I break the toaster, I start googling ways to heat bread with a lighter.
A year and two days ago (agh I fucked up this and thought it was the 19th, but it was the 17th ugh), around this time, I took out my cellphone at work, checked my email and found this message from tumblr:
Good to see a fellow [Ivy Universityite] comfortably exploring her kinky side, and consider me impressed by how comfortable and well-articulated your sexuality is for someone our age.
There’s more, I’ve had to cut it because it is too school-specific.
The point is, a year ago Craftsmate came into my life and gave me a fucking heart attack. Like I said, I was at work and I had to walk calmly into the bathroom before having a freaking panic attack. I had just started discovering myself and opening up on here and I was worried that this would not only drive me to have to shut the blog down, but to reconcile the identity I created on here to explore my sexuality as well as all the facets of myself that stayed off the Internet.
I’d been careful and always kept one foot out the door. All my topless pictures only showed one boob, which was totally unintentional but reflected a general unwillingness to be too vulnerable.
So, for those of you who’ve just jumped on board and don’t know how things turned out, here’s everything chronologically.
For those of you who have, I don’t really know what to say without being hokey. But it’s been quite a year (and two days) and I wouldn’t change a thing.
Except maybe that stupid nickname. Sorry I decided to call you Craftsmate, it sounds like a freaking kitchen appliance.
I love you.
Today was sunny and gorgeous. It was only a week since the last time we saw each other, but we embraced as if much more time had passed.
When we walked to lunch, he held my hand and responded to my giddiness with something that was vaguely Daddylike. He mussed my hair and moved his arm around my shoulder to guide me on turns. I could see an effort to meet me halfway on this, which was only confirmed when he told me that I could sometimes call him Daddy. Which is exactly how I’d want it, just sometimes and not all the time.
Later on, we fucked in my childhood bedroom. He must have appreciated the post I made the other day because he wound up hogtying me and taking me from behind. He was clever and tied the legs separately, so it was only a semi-hogtie and he could maneuver my legs to get deeper. We took a couple of photos of the encounter and maaaaybe if you’re nice I’ll share one or two.
I got massively subspaced and he took great care of me. We had some lovely pillow talk afterwards, some centering on a post he made recently over the fact that we miss being able to go to bed together and cook meals together.
Overall, it was a lovely day, but it makes me a little sad and anxious for the upcoming year and the fact that we will be embarking on a much longer long-distance relationship.
Nanking Decade: Schadenfreude is a powerful force
Dear Tumblr, I had not expected the overwhelming response to my little game with my girl. I had expected 30, maybe 50, but certainly not close to 200 notes. I appreciate that the enthusiasm was well-meaning, but I will take this opportunity to remind everyone that fun and erotic…
I have always had trouble trusting people, in and out of the bedroom. In kink, it manifested in me shying away from vulnerability and using my safeword long before I had left my comfort zone. I did not trust the person to know when to stop or to understand my boundaries.
I tried to put on a brave face about how many people liked and reblogged. I had wanted to enjoyed it – I thought I was going to like it. But I also thought it wouldn’t surpass 30ish likes.
But I honestly felt upset and nauseous. I’m still unsure what specifically bothered me.
It means a lot to me that long before this post was made, he expressed that he would not be sticking to the crazy 3 hour span that this spawned. And it means even more that he took my reluctance seriously.
I told him that I trusted him to intervene before things became too much. He honored my trust. So I suppose something really great did come out of this.
Thank you guys for the advice you’ve been sending. I promise to get back to you soon, this week’s just a little crazy.
I should elaborate that Craftsmate and I are honestly mostly vanilla, go on vanilla dates, don’t wind up with his finger up my butt in public places, etc. We’ve got most of it sort of confined to the bedroom but we sort of want to expand out a little bit without going all naked on a leash. And so we’re sort of trying to negotiate what we want stuff to “look like.”
But, yes, thank you for your messages. They’re all very sweet and it’s wonderful to know I can totally take relationship advice from people on the Internet (look, Mom).
Now, ugh, to make myself sleep.
I’m sorry can I just climb aboard this relationship because I just cannot even.