It's hard to reconcile mourning something that you know wouldn't be right for you anymore, even if it were here.
I want to do it again. I want to understand why last night my tolerance for pain was so high I couldn't feel any of it; where other nights the sting of a slap on the ass makes the walls turn white.
Is there a better museum for rare and priceless experiences than words on a page? I could try to preserve all the details - how we began, how many strikes from which implements, how he moved me about the room, how taut the rope felt on my skin, and the way my thighs ached as… Continue reading The Exhibit
I got to play last night.
She wasn't prone to blushing; hardly anything really embarrassed her. But this. "So, is that a yes?" he asked without a trace of bias one way or another. It was all up to her. "I think so,..." she said. "Think so? I think it's better if you know so." She looked over at the other… Continue reading And *scene*.
I'm falling. I was laying on my back on some sort of exercise bench that was rickety and only long enough to support me from ass to shoulders. My head was hanging backward off one end, and I was struggling to find a position or some leverage that would stabilize my legs without aggravating the… Continue reading Priorities
Had a really interesting discussion last night about what an awesome benefit it would be to have designated "aftercare" spaces in public dungeons. Not only would this benefit people who are still coming off the rush of an intense scene, it would also benefit those who find themselves in the socially awkward position of interrupting… Continue reading Fantasy Spaces: Dungeon Aftercare Zone