I started to see submission as less about what happens in play and more about a way to approach the world.

“Before becoming a parent, I looked at parenting through rose-colored glasses — with an able-bodied person’s perspective. It was drilled into my head by other people, well-meaning as they were, that I probably shouldn’t have children.”

“The internet kind of brought me to a space where, with able-bodied people first, I could be judged a little less.”

“Perhaps trust is my biggest kink. That would explain a lot.”

I have to be willing to reveal the messy, intimate parts of my life to have this authority exchange really work 24/7. Otherwise, it just isn’t sustainable.

“You can just NOT LIE.”

Giving orders is more than the words coming out of my mouth. It’s the tone of voice I use, the eye contact, the confidence, the ease with which I speak.

Submitting is a weird dichotomy of knowing exactly what you want but putting someone else in control of giving it to you.

Welcome to Poly Pocket, a new series showcasing polyamorous and ethically non-monogamous relationships. Here’s how a married kinky butch/femme couple does poly.

I wanted her. I dreamed about her, daydreamed about her, wrote love notes to her all day long, wrote erotica about our sex life. We weren’t together all that long, but she taught me so much about dominance.

Our Leo/Virgo cusp baby is definitely moving into Virgo territory.

“Every day since my father died has been at least a little fucked up. There is no such thing as a non-fucked up day when you are a Daddy’s girl without a father.”

“What if the person who is strapped-on is tied to a bed, blindfolded and ridden, not allowed to come? Who is really in charge then?”

It was summer and I was lonely and she was kinky and the sex was good and I live in a small town. And she was perfect, but she wasn’t.

I got my first STI as a newly single sub with no idea how to practice kinky safer sex. Turns out safer sex is everyone’s responsibility.

Trusting physics, trusting agency, trusting desire, and trusting the people I played with changed everything.

Extreme itchy scratchies, body-positive parenting, fat pregnant femme feelings, nesting, dill pickles, Korean pancakes and more as I fly past the eight-month mark.

I’m not a crier. I really resist the idea that hormones affect me, but pregnancy hormones affect me. OMG.

There is no chance I’m going to evade the Cult of Mommy-ness. My undercut can’t save me.

“In the two weeks I’ve been on the road I’ve learned to be silent and reverent in the face of nature, to see myself in mountains and peel away the layers that tug me toward them, to feel at home in endless waves of grain, to become someone new in every new place.”