Shea's Domain
Last update
2020-01-29 04:34:35

    “There’s a cure?!” asked the girl that kills everything she touches. 
    “Hey shut up we’re perf” replied the girl that makes clouds. 


    For real though. Storm has stopped an entire tsunami before. “Makes clouds my ass” she can conjure lightning and tornadoes and is revered as a god in her tribe. She literally changes atmospheric pressure and that’s how she flies. So fuck you. Storm is flawless.


    I think you missed the part where the GIRL WHO KILLS EVERYTHING SHE TOUCHES wants to NOT KILL EVERYTHING SHE TOUCHES and everyone dismisses her incredible misfortune just because the lady who is the AVATAR OF THE STORM won the fucking SUPERPOWER LOTTERY


    “Finally, a cure for my chainsaw hands!” decreed Chainsaw-Hands Joe.

    “There is no cure,” said Johnny Five-Dicks. “There’s nothing wrong with us.”


    On the Streets of Germany 3rd June

    Some poor lass is taking it up the ass, completely nude. The Female figure based on my own reference. ^_^;



    Now that she has allowed him to fuck her in a public place, she will get the fourth and final set of links tattooed onto her right arm, and will declare herself fully tamed.


    For the story, not the picture. 


    “You want to bow and scrape, and crawl through the darkest parts of your mind and your libido. I will not allow you to pretend otherwise.”

    One of the hardest things for me so far has been that he won’t tie me down, metaphorically speaking. Restraints symbolize force: they let me deny agency over my debasement. He refuses to let me pretend that I do degrading, humiliating, disgusting, filthy things solely because he makes me. He takes every opportunity to remind me that I’m the one who wants these things, that I’m the filthy slut whose cunt leaks at even just the thought of being degraded and humiliated.

    It’s not even enough to acquiesce, albeit with a little whining now and then or all the time, to his whims. That would be too easy, he says. No, he wants me to volunteer and beg for the very things I don’t want to do but would do if he were to demand them of me. The onus is on me to pave my path of depravity, not him.

    This blog is an exercise in that. Every post is difficult for me to write and post. Every post exposes a part of me that I want to keep hidden, thoughts I would rather leave tucked away in my mind. Every post is an affirmation of what I am. The ironic thing is that I wouldn’t be here, on tumblr at least, if he didn’t make me.



    Devotion in the .

    There is beauty in D/s, of course. That beauty is found in small things, in big gestures, in rituals, in protocol, perhaps. Each of us finds beauty in different things. Be it in a full mouth, a kneeling sub or marked skin.

    The greatest beauty of all surely has to be in the invisible, in the devotion, for each other. Not just a sub’s devotion to their Dom, a slave’s devotion to their Master. But his devotion to them too. Their combined devotion to keeping their relationship, their dynamic healthy, alive, beautiful.

    If I give you my hand to kiss, if you choose to reach out, it is symbolic of that devotion, symbolic of the dynamic that rules our lives. Never an empty gesture, never a show of force.

    And as you inhale, so do I. As you breathe, so do I. As you feel, so do I.

    A show of devotion, a small demonstration of what we know in our hearts, illustrating what needs not be said but is felt in every breath we take. Yes, that breath too.


    words: M. / Her Liege - image: Jan Saudek - leave credits intact