You are certainly masochistic, because there is nothing more scary than the term carte blanche, especially when it comes to FemDomme/sub relationships, particularly ours. I’ll go with your vision. I trust you in this. I appreciate that you are trying hard to find a way to make this work for me in a way that works for you.

I think our relationship always worked mostly because we’re both curious. You are curious to see what you can do to me and how you can push me. I am curious to be pushed by you and and feel your total control. Curious as to what I can be taught or trained to think, or to react, or feel. We’ve always worked well when exploring that curiosity and never seemed to get very far when one of us tried to limit it. Along those same lines, I think it works best when we admit and address the limitations that life itself puts on that curiosity.

Here’s an example: I don’t know how much, if any, of the things I’ve fantasized about over the years I’d really want to do. I don’t know that I’d love being forced to be a housewife in  service to an incredibly dull-witted, disengaged husband; or being trained like a dog, fed from a dog bowl, and chained outside. The realities of all of those would not be a lot of fun. But they are great to fantasize about, and obviously they get me hot. And I get off to the idea of the story.

However, this new journey, this idea of allowing for some reality to slip in, is much more different than the other things we have done.. Because I could see the dependence I fantasize about really happening. Really becoming part of my life. And that idea is awesome to me. And I like the idea that because I adore you and trust you, I understand that IN MY REAL LIFE I need to be treated like you are treating me. That I really am neither deserving nor capable of making even the smallest decisions on my own.

And that I will become grateful that you’re willing to take the time and effort it will take to make me understand what I really am and what I deserve to be.

So I don’t know what the rest of it holds, but I trust you, and I trust that you’ve got an idea of how you want this to go.

So, Oh glorious Mistress of mine, I’m paying attention, praying at your knees, accepting your 24/7 (limited yet intensely focused) total 360 degree (which is going to cost me a shitload of dollars, which I know beyond a shadow of a doubt is money well spent) control.

Tell me. Teach me. Show me. Bend me. Twist me. Instruct me. Order me.

Obliterate me.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

An email I received soon after a discussion in which a previous client and I came to an agreement. Of sorts.

Obviously, there is history here. Even a measure of affection and respect. On both sides.

I’ll leave it there for now. But do stick around for the occasional update. Because this is going to get quite interesting, and I suspect rather rapidly.

xo

Go directly to jail.

DO NOT PASS GO.

you, MY little sycophant worm, are totally fucked

$100 fine WILL BE PAID

and much PAIN will follow

[which is what happens when your greedy penis betrays your faux sincerity]

(yes, I’m pissed and yes, he deserves this)

xo, Angela

Two-Headed Calf

by Laura Gilpin

Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.

But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.

====
==========

Apparently this poem has been around.
Apparently nobody told me.
Apparently a handful of poetry profs didn’t think to tell me.
Apparently I believe they were in great error.
Apparently I love. LOVE. ADORE. WORSHIP. this poem.
Apparently I am seriously crushing on Ms. Gilpin.
Apparently I will grieve forever & a day and to the moon & back.

look at what you’re missing …

THE FUTURE IS FEMALE: Visit Femtopia often to remind you of your place in our universe.