Tag: Witness
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Part 4
His arms still around her, the laugh still fresh in his tone, he whispered, “I know we’ve been talking for some time, and this is our first meeting, but my goodness how I wish I could take you home tonight.” She leaned back for a better glance into his eyes, so dark they seemed to…
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It wasn’t “good enough” then, and it isn’t now
Many months later… I’ve been neglecting writing for some time here on my lifestyle blog, as well as my vanilla one. The problem with being properly medicated (and being to actually sleep after a lifetime of insomnia) seems to mean that my wordsmithing suffers. Not sure how I feel about that. Well. I’m sure. I’m…
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We Walk Among You
This past weekend was a delightful one of vending at the local kink festival. This particular one has only been going for a year, and my little shop was present at the first as well. It’s growing like a weed, and I cannot express how delicious it is to be surrounded by people imbued with…
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Service
It was with my first kink relationship that I got a taste of extremes I’d only ever dreamed of. Even though we weren’t 24/7 he and I definitely could feel within me a slave’s heart, or what we thought was one. Anticipatory service made me happy in ways I had only had tastes of in…
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My First Encounters With a Master Playroom
We agreed that the connection between us was too strong to ignore, and that we wanted to see more of one other. Unfortunately, he was leaving for a week in two days. So, ever the one to jump at an opportunity, I agreed to come see his house the next day. This all at once…
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It Begins
It’s abrupt sometimes, or rather, feels abrupt, how my preferences and life have changed in my Leather journey. Considering it’s been over the span of going on thirteen years (which happens to be my favorite number) I suppose it’s not as abrupt as it seems. Being raised as I was, I was shaped to be…
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Well, hello there
After much encouragement from those in the Leather lifestyle, I’ve started this site to share musings. Those who have entered the hectic richness available to us when we shed our colonization and embrace our true selves, I hope they find a bit of a home here. Let’s start at the beginning. My parents…mother was a…
A Durty Burd Writes 