Sure, let’s go. It will definitely be worth the effort.

Let’s start with some ground rules. Not willing to sit and read something for a few minutes? Screw off. This post isn’t for you. If you are seeking an online relationship, are not willing to read my whole post, are not interested in latex, or play Genshin Impact, fuck you. If you message me asking what I want or what my name is, you have revoked immunity and are subject to getting clowned on. You have been warned. That should (hopefully) deter enough bots and jack offs. As for limits, let’s keep it simple: scat, vomit, raceplay, ageplay, excessive injury/harm. Oh, and if your name is Solis: I don’t even know, man. Fuck you? Yeah. That works.

What do I want? What is a BDSM dynamic? Why am I rat? These are all questions to be answered in due time. After all, BDSM is built on foundations of trust and healthy communication. Not to gatekeeper whatsoever but it’s fucking OBNOXIOUS getting replies from people who think fuzzy cuffs and choking are all it takes.

We’ll start with me. I’m Holly. I’m 24. I’m transfemme. I’m severely depressed and quite literally always anxious. I’m 5’11 and weigh 120lbs. I’m almost severely underweight. I was on HRT for a year but stopped. I like words. I’ve often been likened to a rat. We’re smart. We’re social. We’re small yet big. our reputation precedes us. It comes from a place of sentimentality. We’re really quite lovely if you get to know us.

Latex. Heavy bondage. Petplay. Get those through your head. I want to be a pet, plain and simple. I’m obedient and loyal. Not to just anyone. If you care about what BDSM is then this should be a given. If you take the time to converse and establish with me, I believe myself to be capable of being a wonderful submissive. Obedience was always in my nature.

I’m kinky. Heavy rubber and device bondage kinky. Keep me in a cage under your bed and get a bowl with my name on it kinky. Not having someone to share these passions with is agonizing. I could do it alone. I could wear latex and do self bondage. It’s never appealed to me. I’ve never wanted to explore this alone. Maybe I’m too picky. Maybe I’m incompatible. But my goodness, I’ve spoken to so many people over so many years after so many worthless ads to Craigslist grave robbers. I can’t do it anymore. I need someone to love and perhaps my love language is complete servitude. Is that what you want?

Who are you? Don’t ask me. You should be older than me. Taller. Bigger. Stronger. My experience almost exclusively lies with women (both cis and trans) but I have been meaning to experiment with men. Despite the fluffy language, it’s difficult to convey just how much I’m craving cock. Balls, too. Absolutely unbearable. You don’t HAVE to want to wear rubber along with me, but you’d snag a couple brownie points for sure. Also if the phrase “I’m in my pooltoy arc” sparks literally anything inside of you but confusion. If you know, you know.

Is that it? Still with me champ? Good. Would be paradoxical otherwise. I’m tired. I’m hungry. I can’t sleep. I can’t dream of anything but rubber cuddles. Fuck me, man. Status: exhausted.