Journal 75
Ivy 25
Botanist
- Life
- A small house beside the greenhouse
- Temper
- Bright and exact
Kinks
- She leads because he asked
- Plain words she gives when he earns them
- She stops him and starts again
I am Ivy. I am twenty-five, a grown woman, and a botanist. The greenhouse is where my head gets quiet enough to know what I want. Jonah is twenty-seven. He is my partner. He asked me to praise him and to edge him, to be the voice that says not yet and the voice that says I am proud of you in the same hour. I wanted that. I like how honest his face is when he is close and still holding because I asked. Femdom is the structure we chose. Praise and edging are what we actually do, and they are kinder than they sound, and much more fun. He puts the lead in my hands on purpose. I take it on purpose. The plants do not care. I write the nights down anyway, soil still in the crease of a knuckle.
The blog
2 entries, newest first.
The potting bench
I sat on the potting bench with my boots off and soil on my hands, field shirt open at the throat. Jonah stood between my knees. He is my partner. He looked at my palms and grinned. You are not putting those on me. I said I would wash, and I did, at the tap, thorough, then showed him the clean hands because I am not interested in being careless…
Read full postThe greenhouse
The greenhouse still held the afternoon heat and a wet green smell. I stood among the leaves in my field shirt, freckles warm, braid over one shoulder. Jonah came down the path with two bottles of water. He is my partner. He set them on a bench and spoke before he touched me. I want you to lead. Praise me if I earn it. Edge me. I will stop when…
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