(no subject)
Once upon a time, the Gentleman Caller had planned a scene in which he cut rope off of me. He'd tied me in his old rope, I didn't know what he was planning. It was a surprisingly intense moment (The rope! He cut the rope!).
I kept all the rope that was too short for him to use, couldn't decide what to do with it, but I didn't want it just thrown out.
Eventually I decided to use some of it to make myself a collar, a simple thing of rope fastened with a tiny carabiner. I also made us both matching bracelets.
I like to wear it when he's not here, often to bed, as a simple little piece of us here with me. Our dynamic, my submission, is what romance is to me.
This entry was originally posted at http://verbs-not-nouns.dreamwidth.org/40977.html. There are <
> comments there.
I kept all the rope that was too short for him to use, couldn't decide what to do with it, but I didn't want it just thrown out.
Eventually I decided to use some of it to make myself a collar, a simple thing of rope fastened with a tiny carabiner. I also made us both matching bracelets.
I like to wear it when he's not here, often to bed, as a simple little piece of us here with me. Our dynamic, my submission, is what romance is to me.
This entry was originally posted at http://verbs-not-nouns.dreamwidth.org/40977.html. There are <
> comments there.