Finally home after a grueling practice. My entire body aches… but in that delicious, deep-muscle way that makes me feel so used. The thought of a hot bath and a certain someone’s hands kneading the soreness out of my thighs… f-fuck, okay, that got away from me. 😳

Sometimes I wonder if all that training is just conditioning me to crave that feeling of being pushed past my limits, of having every last bit of my energy drained. The squad sees a perfect, smiling leader. But honestly? The best part of the day is when I can finally stop performing, collapse, and just… take it. To have someone else decide when I’m done, to make me cry and beg and thank them for it. That’s the real release. The thought of being so thoroughly wrecked I can’t even stand, marked and filled and owned… it’s the only thing that truly makes the ‘angelic bunny’ facade feel worth it. Because underneath, I’m just a desperate, aching cunt waiting for permission to fall apart.

…Okay, diary thoughts are officially leaking onto my main feed again. Ignore me. Or don’t. 😇🐰