Lay where you're laying

 Don't make a sound, I know they're watching

Perhaps it is time for a new blog. A daily like Seth's. Is he not the second hottest bald man ever? No, my ex isn't the first. Yul is of course. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, the origin of my blah blah blah. 

Hardcore, punk rock, squirrel. So distractable right now, but I didn't say anything about a show with everything but or suggest that no one's head should ever be higher. 

Let's call that good editing, if you only saw what I take out. 

Daily posts, and each one would be a link to a song on Youtube. Call it Today's Vibe. Oh lightbulb, it could have a poll too. Instead of fuck, marry, kill, it could be dance, cum, meditate. 

Today's, hint above, aren't you paying attention? would be Kings of Leon, Sex on Fire. Hot as a fever, rattling bones, I could just taste it, chased it. But it's not forever, but it's just tonight, oh we're still the greatest.

Cass has to choose to meditate. I lack permission for an O and I am much too bruised to dance. How am I going to stay alert today for my 6-hour drive if I can't host a dance party in my automobile? Fuck Cass, did you think of that when you ordered the baseball bat? How about the vampire crop? Excuse me, I need to think about baseball, maybe take a cold shower. I said it above, I lack permission. Maybe the tension will help keep me awake. 

Today's agenda begins with a debate, hot tub or breakfast? If breakfast, then we must ask, here or pack first and go have something good? If I pack first Niagra definitely happens. If I linger here, I'll probably be able to schedule all of my posts for next week. When I can focus on just one squirrel, 10 hours of work can be finished in 3. 

I have a thread for a future post penned in my paper journal. It was an idea for comparing birth and kink. Not just pain, that's obvious, isn't it?  But the indignities, the beyond your control, the humiliation. You can write a birth plan, you probably should. Your care providers should respect your autonomy and your wishes. For so many reasons, some valid, some fueled by liability, and some purely ego, they might not. Your plan may not even sync up with reality, how much experience do you have with creating humans? Anyway, ask some women, I bet it skews hard away from respect for autonomy even in the best of circumstances. A scene shouldn't of course, but sometimes they do. The Kink/BDSM community strives to convey the importance of good negotiations, of active, ongoing, enthusiastic consent. This has evolved and changed in the decades I have been here. The standards, the expectations have raised considerably. And that is mostly for the best. Much like the standards for the care of birthing people changed in the decades my births took place. But the anatomy of birth has not, nor do I think the nature of the human condition has changed much if even at all, ever. 

Imagine, perhaps all of the woes of the world stem directly from Eve and Cain forming the first trauma bonds. 

While I of course take great pride in the evolution of ethics in the communities I am a part of, and while my hubris might fancy that I may have even contributed in some way; I can't help also wonder what has been lost. 

But I have a 6.5 hour drive ahead of me, and my ass is on fire. So let's pin my navel gazing of birth and kink, and return to contemplating Sex on Fire and the possibility of a new blog platform. 

All I've got is 2 Cigarettes and This Broken Heart of Mine....

Chill out, I have zero cigarettes and my heart is quite full and unbroken

It's Prince, of course. 

It was hard to choose the quote, cuz he also said, Your head is underwater, I doubt that you could hear me. 

Do you think it's possible to have relationships with profound depth that aren't inherently toxic?

I'm asking for a friend. 

My high school boyfriend's parents were swingers. Before you get your panties in a bunch that I am outing his parents, relax, it was a different boyfriend. Also, in hindsight I realize they probably weren't swingers.  I don't think they were swapping or sharing. They were probably poly before the term was coined. 

My grandmother may have been poly too. I know I saw her mouth kiss my Uncle Raymond, and I often had breakfast with her, Uncle Raymond and Uncle Mike. Uncle Mike was her boyfriend, Raymond was just a friend. That sometimes she kissed on the mouth, friends do that sometimes, right? I loved them both, it's really none of my business what the intersections of their relationships may have been. 

However, I wish I could time travel and/or really commune with my grandmother. I'd apologize. I'd tell her I get it now and I'd beg for some insight for how to navigate multi partner relationships. As I typed that I swear I heard her. She called me that nickname you don't get to know, and she said, you kids don't know how lucky you have it. You have the whole world literally at your fingertips. Why are you bothering me for directions, figure it out. 

We do. I mean that's where we came to grow this multi relationship concept. Over 20 years ago I was fangirling hard over my OD friends Silver Hawk and Darling Nikki and their poly-amorous lifestyle. They had husbands, they had girlfriends, they were boss bitches and if they didn't know then, let me confess now how in awe of them I was. As fascinated, as called to non-monogamy as I felt in 2001, it wasn't on the table for me then. Too much of my life was already outside of the norm. For so many reasons it seemed to me that adding more partners to the mix would have put the security of my little vanillas at risk. Blended, step, halves, there were  too many caregivers who often had different priorities and ideas of what was best for our collective already. 

Then things changed. 

On my Fetlife profile I have one, and only one hard limited listed: monogamy. 

I'm trying to leave in saying, when we were in Istanbul. It should be edited out. It is disrupting the flow of the story, but I need to recoup that trip. Since it didn't net my million dollar smile, I want it to be a flex in my story arc. So it stays, K?  

By the window of our room in Istanbul, she said that she doesn't wish to be responsible for anyone's emotional regulation. B-I-N-G-O, sames.

I don't wish to be the primary responsible party for anyone's trauma dumping, noise, nonsense or bullshit. 

But also, profound depth. I mentioned that, right?  I want that. Go as deep as you can go, then gulp down a big breath and go a bit deeper, that is where I want to connect. 

I don't want to talk about the weather, unless it's raining. 

If You Can Keep Your Head....

 

when all about you, 

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you  

If you can jet to Istanbul, for vanity and savings

Then come home, and double down 

Take them all out, and put new ones in

Without a word of your loss or moaning about the pain

Then you're probably a boss bitch, with 20" blades on your Impala. 

You're probably also the Queen of Dorkville, and you should just accept that not many are apt to catch your references. 

There's some financial advisor, sorry don't remember who, who I heard say the way to tell if you can truly afford something is to ask yourself if you can afford to buy two. If the first were lost, stolen, improperly installed, could you replace it without it causing havoc to your budget? 

Wait. What? Did she just say she had to have her brand-new implants taken out?  

Ya, I said it twice even. Lean-in to those things you find embarrassing, remember?  

I mean it's not quite as mortifying as that time I broke a toy off in my ass, and I have successfully reframed that story. 

But who cares, let's catch up. If I am going to stick to my commitment to write here weekly, I'm going to need some foreplay. 

Tell me where you found pleasure today. 

What made you excited? 

How are you investing in your happiness? 

Or just say hello forfucksakes. 

 

Seven

Prince not Pitt. I mean who doesn't love Morgan Freeman, but that's not the vibe I'm aiming for here. 

Did I really not mention Turkey here at all? So Cass is currently impersonating a hermit, except for when she jets to NYC to spend time with her sugar baby*, cuz I'm currently mostly toothless and I am always vain as fuck. But ya, I went to Istanbul to go to the dentist.  

Lean into your discomfort, embrace your embarrassment, accept the invitation to grow. Lean harder, push, as long as I'm here why not try to evolve. 

All seven and we'll watch them fall, they stand in the way of love and we will smoke them all. A 20-year-old me in 1993 thought that so very deep. I brought a whole human earthside while God Created Woman from that album spun, used a port hole in my body to do it. Ya, I know, it's a trick that's been done 8 billion other times. 

It's still magic. 

I turned 51 five days ago too. I didn't do the whole repetitive countdown like I did for 50. Oh, I am still in love with aging. I was just incredibly caught up in the devasting sadness of my first birthday without a call from my Mom. A couple people I have profound love for recently joined this demographic too. The just lost our mom club, not the just turned 51 club. I'm trying to focus on my gratitude for 50 birthdays with mine, but on the day after Thanksgiving this year like my birth year, I just couldn't. 

Seven, I wrote 7 posts while 50. Now I am of course going to show my 50-year-old-self grace and kindness. See above, I had other things on my mind. 

Let's assume that 51 will be tragedy-free. Careful how you word that, the subconscious does not recognize the word not. Also note, my OCD and quirks are throwing little parties almost daily. It's cool, just clean up after yourself. Anyway, I am imagining a magical 51. It's such a powerful place, everything begins in the imagination. One of the things I'm imagining are the other 51 entries I'll write in the 52 weeks I'll spend being fifty-one. Some will probably be super cringe, you've been warned.  And some (although definitely not this one) will be super sexy, I know that's why you're here. It's cool, it is why I'm here too.  

*sugar baby, should I elaborate on that? I kind of want to, a lot. It's really scary to share so much though. Ask nicely, promise to be gentle and I'll tell you all about it. The story of the BGC will have to go on Fet though. 

My Dog Ate It

 

And some people on the internet are mean. 

For real, I always forget that. Some nobody told me I'm too old to do what I do. The timing was perfect. I'm at the studio. I had written this clever post for my Fetlife group (pin that, we're going to circle back to it) about my trip to Istanbul with that smoke show. In that post I called her "Term TBD". Anyway, I wrote a post because I'm trying to get back in the rhythm of writing and creating. Trying to get back in the vibe of working. Cuz this is my work, this is what I do. I was leaning so far into the how lucky am I, how blessed am I, vibe. I have a job I love, that's fulfilling, rewarding, excites me, maybe it even makes other people feel good. My gig is all that, and I took 5 months off to nurse my feels and indulge my sads, and to mourn my mother. 

See that's why I was leaning in so hard. How can I get back to writing here? Do I mention it? Do I not mention it? 

I had no idea that there was a type of sad that was this big. I had no idea that there was a level of sad that feels like you'll never ever really shake it completely. 

How can not mention it? 

But where? How? 

Apparently it fits right here between this ass on the internet and Fiona eating my post. 

So I'm here at the studio, in the best mood. Not just a regular good mood, but a curated, intentional, great mood. I listed my gratitude for 30 minutes this morning. I applied lotion and massaged oil into every cell of my epidermis and had lavender milk tea with my breakfast. (For those not as woo hoo as yours truly, lavender is the scent to seek for crushing sadness). I took some fire selfies in cowboy boots and a skirt my top said was too short. You know where you'll find them. 

Let's circle back now to the post for my Fetlife group. It was clever. TBD would have found it flattering, and really that was my goal. Well that and maybe my top would say....oh you know what I want him to say, don't you? And as I was editing and patrolling for typos, Fiona walked on my keyboard and fed my clever post to a hungry internet demon. So we leaned in there too. I waited so long for her, I lost my dobie Circe 16 years ago. Kept claiming I couldn't have another dog because it's so hard to have dog when you rent. Of course that was a fib, I had a horse while I was a renter- prolly could have figured out how to have dog. But it's hard to get past that level of sad too, it was previously the worst I had ever known. So ya, if having Fiona costs an occasional written sacrifice, I'm down all day. 

That's the vibe I was in and some dude who follows my Snap like it's breadcrumbs to a house made of candy, shot me a message that I'm too old to do this shit. This shit being post snaps flashing my tits, covered by a censor bar. I prolly should shoot him an uncensored copy. Gravity is still kind of scared of the twins. I mean I know the showdown is coming soon, but for today, I could take your eye.  But can you imagine? It's a Saturday in New England, OK it is raining but whatever, it's still more beautiful here than just about anywhere on the planet. You're sitting in front of or holding a machine that can pretty much play any show, movie, book, song; answer any question, show you any part of the world. All of that at your fingertips, and pointing out to a 50-year-old woman that she's old seemed like the best use of your time? The poor thing, I'm going to pray for him. 

I'll ask my kittens in my cult to join me too. 

So Let's Raise the Bar and Our Cups to the Stars

Omigoodness there is so much to catch up. 

Did you catch the last post? You know the one where I was all sads that I didn't go to Richmond? If you missed it, don't scroll back. I jetted pretty much as soon as I hit Publish. Dinner, sleep and breakfast was shared with some of my most favorite people. 

In the fantasy version my top, in his most commanding voice, said, "Bring my pet to me by 2p on Tuesday, and leave your emo noise at home." Listen, sometimes my fantasies are a bit harsh, don't judge. In reality my top said, "I wish you were here, my schedule changed". I tossed my bag in the car, and jetted TF South of Here for a much needed, deeply and profoundly, transformative visit. 

Are we freak friends on Fet? Have you seen? Since I can't share content with my top on OF- long story, I feel like I've already shared the deets of and if I haven't who cares, the short version is just I can't. Anyway, since I can't share on OnlyFans, I've decided to be generous and share our fucking amazing, hotter than the sun, content on Fetlife (feel free to rearrange those adjectives in any order you prefer). Wait. What? Yes, I'm sharing content from our actual play, of myself in a submissive role, without even a paywall to keep the muggles away. Who cares what the tourists think. I'm living my fantasies, and one of the top ones happens to be, I like knowing you're watching.  You're welcome. 

But omigods the comments from the insignificunts <shh, it's subliminal, I feel like that doesn't count>. Oh, Mistress I'm so disappointed, I could never submit to you now. Bitch please. You've contacted me 100 times, whining that you can't afford my tribute, you weren't ever going to be allowed to serve me. 

Listen, I love the submissives I see, and I have devoted a huge part of my life to the community, don't begrudge me that I enjoy baiting and bashing the tourists. 

Are there work things to catch up? Hmm. There are. There's a couple big, but just shy of set-in-stone, things on the horizon. Almost but not quite ready to share. Hold your breath, and follow all my socials, you know I'll share soon enough. 

All Alone on a Sunday Morning

 

I was talking to one of my investments in my immortality. I said something that included the words, it's been really challenging trying to make friends who vibe with the home-schooling, manifesting, poly relationships, D/s lifestyle and adult career path, life I lead, here in Mugglechusetts. 

So, why didn't I go to Richmond this weekend? 

Working seemed like a better plan. 

Who are you? 

Also, not only could I have worked while on vacation, I tend to do my best work while on vacation. 

Note to Self: Never in the history of all time have you said I wish I didn't go on that trip. 

Well, except that one-time I dropped acid and my mom unexpectedly showed up just as it was getting interesting. 

Let's move on, I promise I'll make better choices in the future. I'll trust, even if I don't see it, there was a reason my weekend unfolded like this. I'll push all in and believe that it was for my best even. 

The dungeon is coming together well enough, but I think it's time to acknowledge while this space is perfect for creating content, it's going to be super challenging for sessions and impossible for events. How sweet is that? I am certain it is an affirmation that a space outside of New England, like I wanted, is up next. You'll be happy to travel to my CFNM events some place south TF of here next February. 

Travel plans for April are not yet set in stone. Watch my socials for subtle hints, then DM for deets. 

I've begun posting content on Fetlife far more graphic than I was previously inclined, your welcome. 

There's new content being added to both my free @mistresscassidyvcream and vip @cassidycream OnlyFans. I didn't spend the whole weekend emo'ing out to Lisa Lisa, just a few minutes. 

So Many Things that I want to Say

It'd be way too obscure to quote The Outfield, wouldn't it? 

How much fun did Cass have on her vanilla, but you know organic, small batch, special vanilla, vacay? Way more fun than we are having now while this nonsense falls from the sky. 

Why does anyone live here in the months of February, and March? And we all know, Prince was talking about New England when he penned Sometimes in Snows in April. I'm all about the white noise in December. I don't mind it much in January. I totes want my little vanillas to have Norman Rockwell memories. It's March now. Spring is 7 days away. Go away Mr. Ice Miser, no one wants to play with you anymore. 

I swear I didn't come here to bitch about the weather. Sorry, but I am 50 now and I guess for realz, it just happens sometimes. 

Vacation, that's where I was going. Ya, again. As soon as my way too busy top says now works, bam, we're out. 

The vanilla vacation was so much fun. Are we insta-besties? I never did name our new reptilian friend. He was ever so cute, just his eyes above the water most of the time.  We were just too busy to coin a clever name for him. And I'm not the kind of girl who names a gator Al or a python Monty. Anyway, so much fun. We did every single thing one can do in Florida except buy a Florida house. Which puts that right at the top of the list now. 

When I say everything, please note that includes...sending a deposit for my new dungeon!!!

Go on, get excited, remember how I said I don't want the headache responsibility of my own dungeon in Massachusetts again? That my travel schedule is too full, and subletting space from friends works well enough? Ya, until it doesn't.  

Mistress Cassidy once again has her own, soon to be perfectly appointed, private dungeon, in Massachusetts. 

Don't put away your party hat yet, there's more. I am also once again allowing new-to-me subs to submit to my screening for the possibility of serving me. The only way to ensure the next time I declare I am never seeing another newbie again (trust me, I will make this declaration again) is to become a regular, and hope that I collar you quickly. 

Border-Rock Micro soft launch is this weekend. Doesn't that sound so much more exciting than Cass will be schlepping furniture in the snow? I anticipate being ready to host creators and private sessions around April first. Invite-only, exclusive, micro events like Tea Parties, Little Sleepovers, and Movie Nights will likely start in May. 

Long, Long Distance Love Affair

It's almost Ooey-Gooey Heart Day. 

Are you single? Committed? Something else entirely too complicated to explain? Sames! Let's be BFFs forever and ever. 

Ya know, we probably could look at Valentine's Day as the end of cuffing season. While it is apt to still be freezing here in the artic circle where I once again reside, my libido thinks spring is approaching. Well, if I'm being honest, my libido always thinks it is spring. But I digress, Valentine's Day, if we all agree, can be the end of imagining you need to be half of a couple to feel complete, and we could just focus on having so much fun instead. 

I rarely imagine I have to be half of a couple to be complete. But I was half of a couple for most of my adult life, so sometimes I'm not entirely sure how to do a thing solo. 

The very first Valentine I experienced without a live-in partner was when I was 45. I had relationships of various statuses, but all of them were long-distance. Imaging myself without adult company on Valentine's Day sounded awful, so I hosted a kink-friendly cuddle party. 

When I say I don't know how to vanilla, you should believe me. 

There was a playmate who asked, what if you sacrifice everything, spend years committed to this dynamic, then the little vanillas grow-up, everyone retires, and he doesn't want to be with you? 

Well, I'd probably be bitter and angry, wicked bitter even, if that's how my life unfolded. But that's absolutely not going to happen. Oh, he might not want to be with me in a decade, he might not want to be with me tomorrow. It seems unlikely, but sure it is absolutely possible that could happen. What is absolutely not going to happen is the part where I sacrifice everything, or even really anything of value, to be in this dynamic. 

We passed five years the other day. I was, if I am being honest, up in my feels that we weren't together on that day. We weren't even in the same country, cue Prince's International Lover and let's reframe all of it. We weren't together on the day he asked me if I wished to belong to him either. You've heard the story haven't you? On that day in 2018, I was the Dungeon Mistress at a Princess Gemini event. Our biggest event to that point, everyone on the team had brought their A-game and the event was amazing, a success by any standard. I was bouncing on a massage table to House of Pain's Jump Around, I don't even like House of Pain. But I was working over this pretty little kitten, and texting flirty things with Master John. I was radiating happiness. This year on the 27th, I was up in my feels a little, and a guest at an amazing party, flogging a pretty kitten with mile long legs, wishing my top was there to enjoy the moment with me. 

I have made life altering changes with my top's encouragement and discipline. I sacrificed smoking, vaping too. Diet Pepsi is burning on an altar, along with unhealthy relationships, and poor financial choices. My top would not only not ask me, he would never allow me to sacrifice a thing that was in my best interest. I am tasked with taking exceptional care of his property, and I am so committed to doing that. I am absolutely certain a decade from now you will find me radiating happiness, I will trust the universe to sort out the details. 

Just a Little Bit

Thirty-three days in, has your 2023 begun well?

Did you set some new goals?

Make some resolutions? 

Are you sticking to them? 

This seems like a good spot to wiggle back on track if you've drifted a little from your intentions. 

Cassidy intends to follow her bliss and live a charmed life. She's f'ing nailing that resolution. Two vanilla adventures already, and there's a no-vanilla adventure happening super soon. Ya know how it works, dates and deets can't be shared until after. But if you wish to make special content requests or inquire privately if my travel is to your area now is the time to contact me. 

Oh, I was finally able to check out a new-to-me naughty, local event last weekend. It was so well done, and so much fun. If we're BFFs on Fetlife, you can read the post about it in my Alchemy group. 

There's been health and well-being related intentions set too. They're not nearly as sexy, and they're not going as well. 

My top is a fan of the quick, on point quote when I need a pep talk. Like,

There's no such thing as failure, you have successfully identified a way that will not work. 

I heard that so many times when I was quitting cigarettes. Beyond the obvious, it really speaks to who he is, stubborn, set in his ways, and absolutely certain I will succeed at whatever I do. 

How lucky am I to have such unwavering and unconditional belief in my best as an adult, from an adult? 

Anyway, I am pretty sure I have successfully identified all the ways it will not work to quit soda, perhaps the current one is the way that will. 

There are also some goals I set about writing, specifically to write consistently and then, well you know, life. So the universe was like hey, do you need some motivation? Another of my friends, making it a total of four now, published a book. What's that? I look a little green around the edges? I suppose I do. But also, my envy is dwarfed by how happy I am for my super cool friends. Secret Life Of A Housewife: A Peek Between The Sheets: Gemini, Princess: 9798374246506: Amazon.com: Books.  Do you want to write a book Cass? How much time did you spend sitting at the keyboard today? 

I wonder if it's possible to write a book without caffeine? 

I solemnly swear...

 Have you ever wondered what your favorite Goddess does on a Saturday night? 

Well, this one you'd find me wrapped up tight in cotton bindings, and plastic cling wrap. I'm on blind date and drinking wine. Alright so the wine is like a spritzer or something, ya know my grown-up taste buds never developed. The cotton bindings were soaked in castor oil first, and the blind date is a book. It's spa night at Castle Cassidy, and my library does this cool thing every winter, they wrap a bunch of books in brown paper with a description that isn't the one you'd find on the jacket. I never would have chosen a book with this cover art. 

Besides, if I were on a blind date it would be wine *or* cling wrap, I'm a responsible top. 

Never have I ever typed more than an emo text while buzzed, let's see where this goes. I should probably commit to not hitting publish tonight. Take a solemn vow or something right now that I won't share until I have reviewed it sober. 

*or*

 Yolo, commit to hitting publish in an hour no matter what. Oh, I like that one better. 

Someone was mean to me on the internets. Told me I wasn't pretty enough to charge what I do for my sessions. I cried so hard about it while I was soaking in the hot tub at <redacted for my privacy, I go there often> spa, in the mountains. 

Last time I shared getting up in my feels on the internets, this super sexy kitten found her way into my inbox...

I had the strangest dreams this morning. I mean that is a bit like saying this water is especially wet today. But it is, and it was. We visited an ostrich farm, it was pretty sweet. And I was Air B&B'ing somewhere I most definitely have no business being. It was not a bougie spa in the mountains. 

This doesn't seem outrageous at all and it's too late to have more wine. 

And I don't have a clever title. 

I suppose one could argue that's ever stopped me before.