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HiddenLove
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| We're sorry, but the user you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.
Please leave a message and she will return your correspondence when she feels like coming out from beneath her rock again.
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What am I looking for? It's a simple question. My answer though, is far from simple. When asked that very thing, I answer... A future. My reflection. To belong.
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Someone asked me what I missed most about not having a Master or a Dom. I told him it's like staring into a looking glass and not seeing your reflection.
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"Insanity doesn't run in my family. It casually strolls through, taking the time to get to know each and every member."
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Rather than list what I'm looking for, I'm going to tell you why you DON'T want me and save us both a lot of time.
1) I'm disabled. Feel free to stop reading here and move on. I won't get offended. After all... who wants a submissive THEY have to take care of who cannot be a maid, cook and laundress?
Still here? Alright... The major issues are Epilepsy, ocular & complex migraines, severe photophobia (light sensitivity), arthritis in my knees, and chronic vestibular neurotitis resulting in a lack of balance. The last one means I cannot get around without help. I use my service dog to walk, and I can sometimes wall walk and hop from furniture to furniture. Never a dull day here...
2) I have children. Full custody of two. Supposed to have the younger two after this next summer. And of course current custody of a 16 year old. Do the math... Yes. That amounts to FIVE kiddos. Ages ranging from 16 down to 10. And only one boy!
Don't like baggage or drama... move along. That's all I can say.
No sense of humor? No patience or short tolerance span? Yeah, um... we'll drive you insane.
Gotta have peace and quiet? Have to have perfection? Honey... kids will be kids! Floors wash. Clothes launder. And a home is not a museum or a library.
3) Pets... we got 'em and they're part of the family. NOT property or pests to be tossed outside.
If you have allergies, deal or stay away. Cats & dogs, and apparently a snake in the near future. If you don't want them in the house, the room or on the bed, the exit will work just fine for YOU.
I have a symbiotic relationship with my Jazzie, and now Kuma, and you don't get to interfere with that. And a cat that detects migraines and seizures before they occur trumps your preferences. That's just the way it is.
4) You can't have my heart. The best you can expect from me is companionship.
My heart belongs to a man I will most likely never see again. I know... I know. Don't lecture me about letting go and moving on. I didn't choose to love him, and he was never easy to love to begin with. But looking into his eyes made time stand still. He still holds my heart, even if he never makes me his again. It is what it is... and at least for now, I don't see it changing. Do I want to love again? Yes. But I have no clue when my heart will be available once more.
5) Last, but not least... You don't want me... because I have no idea what I can and cannot do anymore. Almost everything is an unknown to me since my vestibular problems began. Vertigo, dizziness and balance make things... complicated. Or maybe I should say a challenge? And one day may be very different from the next.
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Last weekend, I went out in public with Kuma for the first time. I'd been to appointments a couple times, but nothing beyond a few people seeing me besides my doctor.
This... was different. One of my girls was doing an ensemble duet thing at a high school. There were both middle school and high school students, plus their parents, not to mention staff and teachers for all the middle schools in the area and the high school hosting the event. Needless to say, there were a lot of bodies coming and going just in the hour we were there.
Normally, with Jazzie, I would have been in a spotlight. "Oh what a beautiful dog! Look at those eyes! Wow, she's gorgeous, what kind of dog is that?" Everyone saw my dog. No one ever noticed me.
So imagine my apprehension taking Kuma into a real public setting for the first time. Once again, not the dog I had wanted, but the handler matched him to me and as amazing as the match is... I am once again walking with a beautiful and uncommon service animal breed. Worse yet? He's obviously got pitbull in him. Red Healer/Pitbull... but pit none-the-less.
Would people freak out about my having him in public? Would they openly ridicule me? Would I get similar reactions to Jazzie because despite his breed he is a good looking dog? I just didn't know what to expect.
I almost didn't go...
What happened was very unexpected. I went from one end of the spectrum to the other. From a bright spotlight with Jazzie, to a cloaking device with Kuma. People looked right through me. They actually made a conscious effort to divert their eyes away or stared at the floor as I passed. Not one word was spoken to me unless my daughter specifically introduced me to someone. Even then, they looked at me as little as possible. My daughter's band teacher, who I've never met, stood three feet from me talking to her after she played and didn't even look at me or ask who I was.
With Jazzie, all they saw was her... never me.
With Kuma, they look through me... so I'm not seen.
Either way, no one sees me. I can't win. I don't know which is worse. Why is being different so scary for people? I'm a human being too... |
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There's a new man in my life. He's a six year old red healer & pitbull named Kuma.
My Jazzie slipped on some ice and injurred her hip. Turns out, she dislocated it, putting her out of commission. She can still do light work once she heals, but balance compensation on a full time basis would be nothing short of cruel.
No, I am NOT getting rid of her! She is just not my full time SA anymore. |
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Court has come and gone. The judge has extended my custody through mid-April, pending yet another review with a few modifications to the current standing orders.
I have basically accepted that this girl is now a part of my family, and we are all settling in quite well.
As for me?
I am undergoing new tests and will be seeing a new neurologist in late February. I hesitate to get my hopes up, but there is a slight chance she may be able to help me walk again. |
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MUST READ:
I am currently unavailable for an undertermined length of time. Messages will remain unanswered until my return.
Why?
I have aquired temporary custody of a child who was assaulted by her step-mother, witnessed by my own daughter. My focus and time is going to be on this matter until it is resolved. The minimum time is mid-January, and ultimately could result in a permanent status.
Children should never be hurt like this, and while it is not what I ever imagined happening, it is what's right.
Those who have my contact info can still reach me, but all online media will be put on the back burner (even those messages currently waiting in my inbox.
Best wishes to my friends here, and I'll let you know when I'm available once again. |
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I often write about my dreams. They help give me direction, and they bring my subconscious thoughts, desires and hopes to light. I don't always want to acknowledge them, but last night's nearly took my breath away.
I am barely awake, and trying so desperately to hold onto the shadowed fragments racing through my mind.
He was my Master. Not just a Dom or an Owner. I don't know if it happened over time, or if he just took his place as such. But I do know, he commanded everything. I was his, in any way he chose, whether I enjoyed it or not... or wanted it. Master. His rules, his expectations, and only his limits.
It's strange, how in a dream you just know things. You don't have to see them, or hear them spoken. Like air... they're just there. Like, I saw nothing beyond a shadow of a man, and yet I know he had eyes that put me on my knees. A voice to make me quiver. And I know he had no tolerance for disobedience. Not so much that punishment would be severe, but that he would physically force compliance on me.
What little I can recall of the dream... he had a large hand wrapped around my neck. I could barely breath. He was holding me tightly against him, whispering commands I can't remember. And he was enjoying my helplessness, the whimpers, the cries, and the tears.
I think I was being tested. Would I obey? Would I allow, despite the noise I made? Would I fight or resist his will, his commands?
I wish I could remember more than fragments. I wish I knew who he was. My future, or my past? |
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You don't want me...
If you are looking for someone to be your maid, cook and laundress, you don't want me. I have no balance.
If you hope to find one who will never question you, never ask "why" and never tell you you're being an idiot, you don't want me. I am not a mindless drone.
Once collared, forever collared... If you expect to collar me in an hour, a day, a week or a month, you don't want me. I only wear collars until I *become* collared.
If you want a girl to be every moment of every day, naked and chained, bound and caged, or solely focused on you at all times, you don't want me. I am a mother and partner first, submissive second.
If you need financial support and a girl to help support the household, you don't want me. I am disabled and highly limited.
If you're advertising your wealth and success, you don't want me. I place value on the simple pleasures, not fancy and expensive things.
If you merely want a sex object, you don't want me. I have too much heart and spirit to be dismissed so easily.
And if you are too lazy to read my profile, and all that I've written, you don't want me... for real submission comes from the heart and soul, and it takes time to touch that deep. |
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Dream:
He hunted me down. He was the type to let nothing stand in his way once his mind was set. He was determined to make me his. Using his resourcefulness and ignoring all my efforts to keep him out, he found me.
I was sitting out on the porch in the early morning, a blanket draped across my lap. Wearing an oversized T-shirt and still tussled and groggy from a night of restless sleep. My covered porch and its surrounding trellessed walls prevented anyone from really seeing me, so I didn't care about my appearance. I was just enjoying the peace and quiet.
Until he was standing there, leaning against the porch gate and dangling his hands down to pet Jazzie. A guard dog, she is not. Ears back, tail tucked with a hint of wagging, she was sniffing and apprehensively accepting his attentions.
I sat unmoving, staring in disbelief. All the questions came flooding out. How did you find me? What are you doing here? Is this real? I'm dreaming, right?
Smiling and moving with confidence, he opened the gate and walked over to stand in front of me.
When you have no balance, and you're sitting in a porch swing with nothing solid to support yourself with, there's nothing you can do to get up and hide. You just sit there, glancing at your dog that's blocked by the large presence of a man, and stare. Stare up at him. Stare down at his feet. Stare at your own lap.
When he reaches out and takes hold of you, your body sways to his pull. To resist would find yourself falling, and as you teeter and rock, it's an involuntary reflex to clutch whatever is there to grab onto. So by the time you're standing motionless, you've been pulled into a powerful embrace. And all at once, he's holding all the cards.
There's a lot of power in a kiss, and combined with the pressure of strong hands running down your back, it's enough to take your breath away. It was what took the last thread of resistance out of me.
He was my support, my safety, and my puppeteer. It was easy for him to spin me in his arms, pressing my back to his chest as his fingers wrapped around my throat. I stood paralyzed, his willing captive, and his lips brushed across my neck, his teeth finally digging into my shoulder.
Keeping me balanced against him, he lifted my shirt and ran his fingers inside the edges of my panties. His whispers sent shivers through me as he told me I didn't need them, and he slowly slid them downward until they finally moved on their own down my legs. I trembled as his touch found it's way to my center, tracing and barely fingering me. Enough to tease, to hint at intention, he moved his hands skillfully.
In short order, he was guiding me to the door, moved inside and bent over the arm of my couch. He ran his hands over my backside, pushing my shirt high on my back.
He was preparing me. He intended to take me, and make sure I understood that I belonged to him now. His words, his touch... I was helpless and vulnerable. I couldn't stop him. I couldn't tell him no. In that moment, I wanted him to possess me. In that moment, it didn't matter what he did to me.
I was his. |
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What am I? How do I identify? What label do I put on myself?
There are many to choose from, and if I had to choose... I'd choose them all.
Why must I be just one thing? My personality isn't so black and white. I don't conform to any specific category. I have different moods, which affect my projected image.
No, I'm not confused. I know exactly what I am. I'm kytten...
Pet to be cuddled and smothered in affection.
Submissive to serve and please.
Slave to obey and put aside my own needs and desires to do nothing more than make him smile.
Baby girl in need of guidance, structure and maybe the occasional discipline.
Slut to be used at your discretion.
Toy to be pushed or pulled and feed your twisted fantasies.
I am all these things, and more... I'm your friend and dearest confidant. I'm your companion when all you need is a safe presence. I'm your challenge and your intrigue. Just put my mind to the test!
I'm the tenderness wrapping around you when all is unwell. I'm the compassion you lean into when something fails. I'm the smile in the morning, the teasing taunt in your afternoon, and a willing receptacle as you come home.
I am so much more than one thing. So why must I carry only one label? When the only thing you will find that I am not... is a mindless drone. |
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Dreams are strange things. They can be based on reality, or a jumbled mess of nonsense. But when needed, they can help bring to surface answers you're in need of.
Sometimes, I wish I could escape my dreams. Currently, I wish I could understand them. It's not that they need interpretation, the meanings are quite clear! But... why is my subconscious showing me what it is?
Dreams of a shadowed face, whispers of an unknown "familiar" voice, and visions of terrifying fantasies. I wake from them shivering cold, while my blood flows hot. One could easily take advantage of me in such a state, my body having a life all of its own.
It seems... I want something dark and unknown to me. Something, in the light of day I deny, but behind the veil of sleep I'm a prisoner to.
I dare not speak it aloud, because the idea of it coming true engulfs me with fear. What if someone took it to heart? What if I found myself living the dream?
Would I, COULD I, surrender to it? |
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I read it a lot... looking for someone I can mold. What does that really mean anyway? You want to change her? You want to push a triangle into a round pot? You want to be the one who decides who and what she is?
I see blank open statements like that, and I can't help but wonder why so many choose such a cliché statement. Mold me... bah! I know who and what I am. You can't change my nature. So just how do you plan to accomplish such a thing?
Now if you mean give me structure with consistent rules or expectations, consequences should I fail you, and a firm understanding of what my role is at your side... well that's a completely different matter. I need guidance. I need discipline (on the rare occasions I do misstep). More importantly, I need a strong and confident presence in my life... our life, should it come to that.
You really can't force me to "be a better submissive." And please don't add one cliché to another by guiding me into being all I can be, to reach my full potential.
I'm already a good girl (when the horns are hidden in my curls), and since life is ever changing, growing and learning... a full potential isn't possible. The best you can hope for is compelling me to WANT to aspire beyond the norm... for you. When I CHOOSE to stay up until 1 am to bake you a pie because it's your favorite and I found out you'll be coming over early... Believe me, receiving a smile from you for my efforts carries more weight in that moment than if you had told me to make you one. Having my efforts appreciated will encourage me to go out of my way for you, time and again.
But do nothing but command me, leave no room for my own desire to please you in ways you're not expecting... you'll get hallow gestures and empty words. No feeling or depth behind anything you require of me.
So which would you choose? Do you still want to get out that mold? Or do you want to enjoy what you own with open mindedness? |
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My name... is kytten. Yes, with an intentional "y." It's not kitten, kitty or slut, whore and cunt. I can be those things, under the right ownership, but they are not ME.
No, I was not trying to pass my name through the name filters. It was given to me many years ago. Not just as a pet name, but because I earned it.
I have many cat-like qualities about me. I can purr if you pet me, growl if you scratch me, and I do bite and claw. But it doesn't stop there. I press my face into things, and yes I will rub against you. I am highly affectionate, and calling me touchy-feely doesn't quite cover it. I crave touch... all kinds. Soft and feathery all the way to blind passion and aggressive possession. Hold me, and I'll nuzzle into you. Lay with me, and I'll find a way to press against you. Stroke my face and hair and watch me melt.
I also have a habit of curling up... anywhere. Your lap, the floor, the corner of my own bed... and yes, I'll wrap myself into a ball, resting on your legs or chest.
I wasn't taught or trained into any of this. It's just my nature. It's never been the result of furry play, and to try and change these things, or deny me affection and interaction, only results in unhappiness. Mine, and eventually yours.
So please... when you say my name, understand that it's with pride that I have it. And remember, it's not the cat, it's the girl.
Me. Kytten. |
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| Age: 57 |
| Newcastle,
United Kingdom |
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