latex-corset

[latex-corset]

so I'd like for this to be a diary

I am also deathly afraid of having a diary. You have one parent open up your sacred space at 16 and all of a sudden a decade and some change later, and you hate keeping a diary, even though it's the only thing that'll keep you sane. Sans therapy. I'd love to go to therapy again, but I hate paperwork.

Still, the things I am experiencing in my work as "queen of the demi monde" are unique. I'm not finding musings on homewrecking beyond the typical reddit posts about heartbroken couples, the "hey girl" instagram reels, and of course, the one person on fetlife who has discovered the epiphany of "as it's not my relationship, it's not my responsibility". I'm also finding a ton of people putting in the work to make the fantasy content, the clips, the pretense.

All of my feelings on homewrecking, as a typical proud and shameless homewrecker, are tied up in wanting to read T.M. Scanlon's "What We Owe To Each Other", procrastinating on a photoset I'm supposed to have to my client by tonight, and of course, at least three other submissives asking, vying, begging for my attention. I am not being given the time or space by anyone or anything to process my feelings on my session yesterday, which left my thighs sore, and my feelings in kind of the same spot. Hence, the online diary.

My sub seems to feel just as emotionally sore. Maybe it's drop for lack of aftercare (at their behest). It certainly isn't a development of romance, but it does feel like, for them, they took things a step too far. Our play, as real as it is in the context of their fantasies, somehow stepped too close to the reality. I wonder if they're actually sitting with the thoughts that they could in fact leave their wife happier. Not because they want to leave their wives for me, but because they feel as though they've settled into the trappings of middle class generic life. Vinyl plank flooring in the new houses and formica countertops. As much as I feel a weight, I can't imagine being stuck in a life between wanting a white picket fence and a wife and kids, and wanting latex and degradation. I tell them all the time that they can have both, that I know people in the community that have both. I have far too many clients who feel like it's impossible.

I even have clients who I watch go from single, to in relationship, to fucking around with me behind their brand new girlfriend's back. Yes, it is very hot and all that the vanilla girlfriend is inferior and blah blah blah, my tits, etc. Maybe even a year or two ago I took some small joy in feeling superior to thin, conventionally attractive women who found my clients in the tinder dating pool. But now I'm bored with it. I do in fact want what's best for everyone. I steer those clients towards going to a munch and meeting the lifestyle domme of their dreams, even if it means lightening my own pockets by taking them out of my income, and instead they search through bottle blondes with utah curls on bumble. Be for fucking real.

I'm terrible at taking a day off.

I would love to go to my hometown, to the lake, to throw my phone in the sand and swim and not think about anything. I don't even care for the generous and random and unprompted cashapp and venmo notifications that plague my ears at all hours of the night. Four years ago I would have been elated. I honestly wonder if I'm burnt out. Will a day off fix me? Do I need a week? What happens when I can't afford a day or a week off? I love this work. Will this work love me back in the ways where I can have it for another twenty years as planned?

I hope I sound relatable to someone who's having the same questions, months or years in the future. The nice thing about making an anonymous tumblr and not having to represent my brand is that I don't have to try to be funny or relatable on the internet. I'm cringe but I'm free. The writing is mediocre but it's honest.