Refresher for the pinned. Anything creative will be over at https://t.co/3C13JDqLnQ, @girlonthenet and @anna_frolicme.
I'll still be here to sometimes chat & link work & try not to cede the conversation to the c*nts. But otherwise, I'm at Bluesky and Instagram (sometimes)
TW: rape, sexual assault, coercion.
I wrote something about rape culture, Cornell, and men calling other men c*nts.
Such a big topic, and l'm not sure expressed it as well as I wanted to, but I wanted to try and say something.
This is what said:
https://t.co/nrXPFARd1H
If you sign up to @girlonthenet patreon(https://t.co/Woz2PfCKAZ) you can listen to me read my story of how a Dom reclaims his sub after she fucked someone else.
I wrote a story about a Dom who snaps his sub back into place after she fucks another man.
Notes: consensual degradation, emotion, aggression, jealousy, possessiveness
https://t.co/LEqRtH60od
"No. This isn't a blow job. You're not my girlfriend. You're a treacherous whore."
New story over at @WrittenInKink
She Fucked Another Man
https://t.co/LEqRtH6ydL
I would like to tell you a little story about what Superman meant to me as a child, what he came to mean to me as an adult, that time he kinda saved me from some very rubbish stuff, and how seeing him at the Shard has had rather a significant impact on me today.
Often writing is accepting the gap between what you hoped it would be and what it is.
This piece I wrote over Frolic Me came pretty close to my intention.
It's very leggy and power shifty.
Click the link to see the video and read the story
https://t.co/dIDq5gegDD
Refresher for the pinned. Anything creative will be over at https://t.co/3C13JDqLnQ, @girlonthenet and @anna_frolicme.
I'll still be here to sometimes chat & link work & try not to cede the conversation to the c*nts. But otherwise, I'm at Bluesky and Instagram (sometimes)
So @JMSeaborn is RTing old stories, in case you needed a deep masturbation session.
Or a good cry, because you're having a rough day and these words carve their way into old scars, and let the tears escape like steam through holes forked in a baked potato, so you don't explode