“A mess” is exactly how you should feel after spending time with me. But be careful around here, kiddo; you’ve followed me into a minefield, and I’d hate to see pieces of you go flying because you weren’t conscientious with your steps.
Remember to question everything I say. This blog is here to help you ponder all of the vexing, thrilling, nasty little conundrums in the back of your mind, but my answers aren’t necessarily yours. Responding powerfully to my work might mean you’re a twisted little wreck who was put on this earth to get off on her own fragility, or it could mean you’re a vaguely normal person and I’m just *that* fucking good at what I do.
Caveat cunnus.
Also, try not to binge on me, get yourself all worked up, and then start throwing your cervix at every trash-talking chest-thumper on FetLife. Take your time with those new emotions; I don’t want to be anyone’s springboard from chastity to depravity unless my genitals are part of the launch mechanism.