Scars

Broken But Still Bleeding

My scars are my story

they tell the tale of all the battles I have fought within my mind

they show the choices I have made

the choice to survive however I had too

the decision not to give up

each scar was a choice

the debate between stopping or continuing

between going deeper or settling for a scratch

digging for the vein or being satisfied with a few droplets of life-giving red

my scars show my pain

and how much it affected me

they show how far I’ve come

and how far I still have to go

I may have scars

more than I can count

some fading into my past

some signs of recent battles

but I am still here

and my scars do not own me

they don’t define me

they are not me

they are merely a part of my story

I will never be ashamed…

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Branded…

Diary of a Married Woman

After an intense, hard and fast beginning to our cane session last night, M paused briefly to admire his work. Running his warm, brazen palms over the stingy red welts, he leaned back to then trace each with the tip of the cane.

“Do you notice anything,” he asked after he’d done so.

“Was that an M?,” I asked in reply.

“Yep…,” he answered, striking those welts again in the same M pattern, clearly pleased with himself, making the marks darker, more raised.

Pausing again to stroke and squeeze his marks with his hands, he explained that at the start of every session, he whacks an M on both of my cheeks. An M for his initial. His mark, on me. Branded as his. My insides are still smiling.

This morning, as I was sipping my coffee and sitting on a sore bum, daydreaming and replaying last night, all I…

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Her Secret

A Faded Romantic's Notebook

Art by Hamish Blakely

It is her secret.

It always has been

Ever since she can remember. The longing. The desire. The ache.

A deep sexual yearning to lose control. To abandon her free will to the pleasure of another.
And in doing so find her own glorious, magical, delicious release.

Sometimes, in her private moments and when she allows herself, she has the scenarios in her head. Scripted and endlessly rehearsed, she plays them in a bold, burning, breathtaking loop. Fantasies and fetishes that leave her wasted and wet as she allows them to wash and lap over her.

Other times it is a jumble of words and images, of instruction and discipline, obedience and compliance.
Of being watched.

Of her body being used and pleasured. Stroked and caressed, kissed and pinched, slapped and whipped, licked and scratched, nibbled and teased.
And of being restrained.

And of fingers, and lips, and toy after toy. And his tongue and…

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Daddy knows best

This is my kinky life...

When He found me, i was broken , He picked up all my pieces. He put them in a safe place while He finished gaining my trust, and broke off  more pieces , til I  was broken completely.  No one has ever taken such great care of me. How do you say ‘thank you’. As a Master/Daddy He’s just doing His job. He’s very good at it.

Yet He has been delicate at times, I had no idea I was in the process, there are days when it hurts like hell. He is truly wise to know when I’m ready. One true Master, like none I’ve ever seen. It is one of my favorite things about Him, believe me there are many.  I do thank the universe that I got lucky , blessed,  fate stepped in. Whatever you want to call it.

Have you ever felt like the baggage inside…

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Commitment

Slut, Ph.D.

Good friend: “Welllll… You guys are ‘European married.’ It’s not really what other people think being married means.

I’ve been asked the question before: “If you’re going to fall in love with and sleep with other people, why did you bother to get married?” The answer for me personally remains pretty straightforward—because I wanted my now-husband to be the person who decided what happens to my broken body if I get in a car wreck, not my parents. While that was the most pressing point, there are a whole host of other social and economic benefits that come from being married, including tax breaks and insurance… Although I am personally very much opposed to the legal institution of marriage, trying to live up to that particular principle is a pain in the ass, and my now-husband and I were both quite poor and financially desperate when we got married, so…

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