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.