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The safeword. The signale. The fullstop.

There comes a certain point in a young submissive's life, usually very early on, that they realise that they are not going to be able to take everything that their top, or dom, or Master, or whatever you choose to call it, is going to be able to dish out. The most common word that they then adopt is "red", like a stoplight. Some adopt "yellow" as well, as an indication that their limit is approaching and they need a breather. But usually it's not long after this point that the creative sub gets tired of using standardized words, and looks or something a bit more personalized. They want their own special safeword.

The dark room is hot, steamy with humidity. The fan in the window turns inexorably, the thrum of its small motor filling the room along with small, choked gasps and the panting of heated breath on feverish, flushed skin. The slight tang of sea air drifts into the window, misting in the jaundiced, mottled light of the street lamp just outside. A small yelp, a low moan, and then silence, nothing in the room for several seconds but the faint rustling of damp sheets and the steady purr of the window fan...

Then a gasp, and heavy panting. The tingling high of relief flooding through the veins as easily as oxygen floods the lungs.

It made me happy when Elliquiy decided to handle blogs. While I have my own blog that's fairly transparent, I also hesitate to write about certain things, because it very much has my name attached. I have never had a boss stumble on my blog, but I've had friends, schoolmates, people who know what to look for, stumble on it. And... I think my mother reads it.

My mother. Reads my blog.