This looks like a really hilarious sink.
Photo via Sugar Loves The Sink
or…cat’s been into the listerine again…..
Everyone has their own personal rules and guidelines for how sex and D/s works for them, I imagine. There’s probably some very significant cross-overs, but I’d imagine that no two people have the exact same rules and interpretations of everything. Human brains just don’t work like that.
So, in my own personal catechism of sex, I’m not entirely sure that it’s possible to overstate the value and importance I put on masks. I see masks, in an odd way, as the counterpoint to a collar. You put a collar on a girl because she is yours, and it serves as a physical manifestation of that relationship and of her role.
A mask, on the other hand… A mask represents something else entirely. Rather than a physical sign of something, it serves as a physical reminder of something that is removed. In much of my D/s experience, there’s an effort to get past the rules we’ve been given- by society, by family, by our bodies. Break past those rules, find out how to answer questions and needs we have deep inside ourselves.
Masks play into that quite well- because when you’re wearing a mask, you aren’t the same person you are every day. You’re someone else. And that someone else doesn’t have your own rules. The rules the mask holds are still to be defined. It’s freeing. It makes it feel safer to explore, because, on some level, you aren’t the person society wants you to be. You’re a different version of yourself, able to be more true to yourself.
And when a girl wears a mask for me? Then her rules are defined by Me. And so she is defined by me. I find what is inside her, find what I need and what I want, and then I build on it.
So every time I see a picture like this? Mask on, eyes on the floor, posed like that? That’s the look of a good girl, ready to serve in her proper role.