when kink is musical
I elaborated a more expansive piece on the phantom of the opera and bdsm in another writing. This is kink in lyric form.
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Archive
your name is your secret to share
Here, my name is Kitty. It started with my master, although he only helped bring it to the surface. I’ve tried other “names,” submissive, slave, playmate. Some work, some don’t. Some work circumstantially. In my other life, my Real name is one I’ve always loved. Growing up, I thought it was a “lovely and unusual”
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top 8 places to find a unicorn!
Amazon Prime (comes in under two days) The Bi Girlfriend Store (10% off if you purchase two or more, does not come with any bi girlfriend feed) One of the many caves under Stephen Colbert’s old C-shaped desk Far, far away from Donald Trump’s tiny pussy grabbing hands My bedroom, neatly packed away in my
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erasure and homophobia
I’m at a friend’s house, or maybe we’re walking in the park. I don’t remember. A friend of a friend of a friend commented that she didn’t pay attention to her friends’ sexuality. How she wouldn’t even think of her friends’ sexualities “for days at a time.” That’s nice, I thought, because I didn’t feel
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basketful of diamonds, a
Once upon a time, someone said that diamonds held unimagined, intrinsic value.
A diamond is forever. A diamond is love.
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my “NRE” loves: pt 1: i don’t know you, but i think i love you
I don’t know you.
I don’t even know your name, and, no, you needn’t tell me. I think the name I call you is lovely and unusual.
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believing the one we love
I’m fortunate in my wealth. No, I’m not speaking of material wealth. Friends. Chosen family. Blood family. Partners. Lovers. Playmates. I want to believe they are always good. I remember my brother, in high school, abandoning his friends for a new group– because he knew they were the sort to get him into bad trouble.
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perspective of a 24/7 sub
I’m 24/7. This is one of those topics I’m more than happy to engage in a dialogue—because this is my life– but I’ll try to explain here, in simple terms. I won’t go into too much detail or down any particular path, but only “What 24/7 means to me.” Because it seems to be a
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my love isn’t sacred
My love isn’t sacred. My collar isn’t a blessing. Your cock isn’t glorious. I am not your Chosen or your angel. My breasts aren’t divine. But, Master, I am your Sacred Whore.
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dear former self: why being “selfish” can sometimes be selfless
Dear Former Self, I think you are okay. But perhaps a little too hard on yourself. You told yourself that taking care of yourself is selfish. You told yourself that if you didn’t tell people that they were being offensive or rude or wrong, that their behavior was at least partially on you. You confronted
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