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Enough is Enough, Defining Yourself as a Radical Act of Love
One thing I've noticed, as a therapist and human, is that we don't often talk about how terrifying freedom feels. Claiming the power to define your identity is a radical act of love.
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Where I am a Year After Coming Out As Genderqueer and Nonbinary
I came out as genderqueer and nonbinary a year ago. My gender journey has been a source of strength during the ongoing tumult we saw in 2020.
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It’s Just a Fantasy, Pleasure On Display
Join me in unleashing sexual fantasy from shame. "Pleasure on Display" is a smutty flash piece about my fascination with exhibitionism.
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Sexual Fantasies, Learning to Celebrate What Turns me On
Sexual fantasies play an essential role in my sexual expression. But accepting and celebrating my desires hasn't always been easy.
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Pup, A Sweet Interlude of Puppy Play
The most recent #fetchat was all about pet play. I'm fascinated by pet play, especially puppy play. This is a little glimpse of a sweet interlude between a Pup and his mistress.
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Foreplay, Why Words Matter When We Talk About Sex
The word foreplay has been rattling around in my noggin. I have a lot of thoughts about how the word limits how we think about sex.
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#WillVoteforSmut – The Vote for Change and Win Smut Raffle
I’m raffling off a smutty piece of flash fiction, written to your specifications and recorded by me. Just share your #voteblue experience with me on Twitter or IG with the hashtag #willvoteforsmut to enter!
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Unspoken Contracts, A Beyond #fetchat Musing on What Goes Unsaid
September 30th's #fetchat was about D/s power exchange contracts. And I started thinking about all the unspoken contracts that ruin great sex.
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The Circus Came to Corwen, Part Four, A Shift in the Tide
Dr O'Dell is finding his memories and his power returning as he re-learns his lover's body. An encounter with a forgotten friend brings back memories of how he was betrayed.
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The Circus Came to Corwen, Part III, Remembering the Sea
Content: MM pairing, Queer, Erotica, Oral Sex, Sex as Magic Power. Read Part I, An Incoming Tide Read Part II, Wading into the Current WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 15, 1883, EVENING Roe’s hand closed on mine. The callouses on his fingers rasped against my knuckles. We stood together in the dusk while red and white tent tops unfolded around us like morning glories. We stood closer than polite society would deem proper. And still, surrounded by people, he held my hand. My shoulders tightened as I braced myself for insult or worse. “No one here gives a fig, Thomas,” he said, squeezing my hand. “I didn’t…” The tenderness of his smile, no…