Behind the Curtain

Some of us are fortunate enough to have fond memories of the idyllic childhood that they were blessed with while others barely have any memories at all aside from ones filled with extreme violence or sadness, or conversations or exposures that somehow imprinted themselves onto our very impressionable minds and still follow us even now. I am the latter.

Don’t worry this writing isn’t going to be just another whiny bitch fest about how Mommy didn’t hug me enough or Stepdaddy touched me in the naughty place so that’s why I’m as fucked up as a soup sandwich because quite frankly no matter how much truth may be in that statement, bitching about it now doesn’t accomplish anything and I’ve worked through all the wounded child stuff in therapy anyway.

And besides, the fucked up part of me that’s left is a helluva lot of fun to play with these days.

So when people ask about the things I really enjoy if I’m truly interested in having them stick around I can’t help but be a bit reluctant to share the whole truth, because past experience has shown me that most people immediately fold and walk away from the table, often before we’ve met face to face and in spite of how well the conversation between us might have been going. The same thing also happens when I share this blog in advance so I’ve stopped doing that altogether unless the intent is to actually make someone lose interest, OR unless I really, really want them to see me and I’m rolling the dice and hoping they will stick around.

When I describe myself with complete transparency I tell my potential suitors that I am like Dexter, in a dress. Minus the killing, of course. I am methodical. I am calculating. I study my partner and learn their every trigger whether it be the kind that scares the bejesus out of them or makes them putty in my hands. I make it my job to learn exactly what kind of ride is the drug of choice for my beloved and I become their dealer.

In turn, I become just as much of an addict and not having access to my drug of desire becomes a most delightfully torturous physical as well as mental ache.

Over the years I have come into my own and have become very skilled at dancing in the darkness even though the reality is that I have about as much rhythm as Elaine from Seinfeld. If I could have given birth to you then there’s a good chance you have no clue what that reference means unless you caught the reruns on Comedy Central but let’s just say she never won any dance contests. In the dark however is where I am most alive, when I am with a willing partner I become a sleek, cold, bloodthirsty predator. One whose arousal increases as she instills fear and inflicts pain on her captive prey. When that flip is switched I’ve been told that my face changes and my eyes flash with a cold detachment even though I still convey amusement and typically carry a sly smile.

A while back I heard the phrase “clit-centric” and it very much describes my nature. You would think at the age of almost 56 years old that my sexual drive would be slowing down yet I have stronger desires these days with no sign of diminishing. When I am with a partner I love nothing more than to have some sort of physical connection on a daily basis, with my satisfaction being paramount. Extended teasing and denial is a favorite game and I adore pegging to the point of anal orgasms. One of the things I would really like to explore in the future is Tantra and I also want to get back into hypnosis once I’ve entered into a dedicated relationship again. The thought of being able to suddenly elicit a spontaneous and knee buckling orgasm from my partner while standing in the middle of a crowded dinner party simply by whispering the word “conundrum” in a particularly salacious manner is wildly entertaining to me.

All of that being said, I suppose to most this would read as very self centered on my behalf. But before anyone jumps to any conclusions I want you to understand that in all of this what matters to me MOST is my partner’s happiness and satisfaction. Their experience. Them reaching their own personal Nirvana, whatever that might mean.

To one, that might be subspace. To another, that might mean full body orgasms. To someone else, a sense of connection and belonging. It is my job as a partner and lover to find meaning behind and within all of this and to use everything I’ve learned over the last 37 years in the lifestyle to make sure that they feel safe, secure and valued no matter how extreme the acts themselves may become. I will hurt you, I will never harm you.

It took me a long time to reconcile my sadistic nature with my empathic side. It made absolutely no sense to me how I could love someone deeply yet harbor such intense desires to have them taste their own blood on my lips as they kiss me. I would literally beat my beloved until their eyes were rolling into the back of their head and then drag their body onto my bed and tenderly cuddle them and purr how proud of them I was as I stroked their hair and they slowly came back to me….

And then we would have incredibly hot, passionate, animalistic sex that left us both sweaty and satiated.

I’ll admit it takes a special kind of man to be able to navigate the waters I swim in. My heart has an endless capacity to love, but has never been able to completely trust. From childhood I was taught that even those who were supposed to hold you most dear were capable of betrayal if it served their own agenda and so I’ve never had the luxury of being able to free fall into the arms of another knowing that I was safe and taken care of. As a result, I have spent my entire lifetime loving those within my heart deeply and without reservation or judgement but not once have I ever given anyone the opportunity to love me in kind.

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be able to trust someone so implicitly that I could occasionally set my armor down and simply be. From the time I was a pre-teen up until now I’ve always been the strong, reliable, resilient one. I have only ever been able to be bits and pieces of myself in my relationships; I have never truly been able to simply be me. The thought of finding someone who is able to appreciate everything that I am as opposed to simply the parts that appeal to their particular desires makes tears fall down my face as I write this.

As a 20 year old I saw the movie Labyrinth and the Goblin King played by David Bowie told his protagonist Sara “I ask for so little. Just let me rule you and you can have everything you want. Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.” This scene has always resonated with me because even though I am the one wearing the bitchy boots and therefore the designated D I am always in charge whether it be within scene or my day to day. I am a slave to my own obligations and high standards even if those around me do not reciprocate. Loneliness has been my almost constant companion over these last few years and at times she’s done her best to turn my aching heart bitter, but instead I’ve chosen to work on self. Peace has replaced turmoil. Patience is a newfound friend.

I have no idea what the future may hold for me but I know it isn’t filled with all things vanilla and watching myself deteriorate from boredom. And perhaps instead of relinquishing my armor, maybe one day I will know what it is like to be loved so completely that I feel comfortable enough to set it aside and simply be…even if only for a moment.

The Spiritual Savage

“This fucking guy again” she chuckles to herself. It’s been at least two years now that she’s been seeing the notifications occasionally pop up on her profile, revealing that once again he’d taken a peek.

His warm brown eyes and a smile that clearly indicated a propensity for mischief had always intrigued her, but he also identified as a Dom which meant they were on the same side of the coin that she wasn’t about to flip no matter how attractive she found him. She’d often wondered what it was that kept bringing him back to her page; was it the directness of her words? The fact that she seemed like a real person amongst all of the professional Dommes? Or was it just the pretty pictures she’d attached to it? Considering the profile up until recently had displayed no images she thought perhaps it was something more, but had never bothered to contact him to ask. Her experience with male Doms in the past had not gone well.  Inevitably, conversation had always led to them trying to convince her that the person she had been her entire life was somehow capable of being persuaded to acquiesce to their image of what she should be, and the experience always left her cold and a little angry.

She didn’t want to think of Denny that way.

Yes, she’d given him a nickname.

Every time she saw his face appear on her profile he reminded her of the actor Jeffrey Dean Morgan. The first time she recalled ever seeing him was as a character named Denny in Grey’s Anatomy, so that’s what she’d taken to calling her mystery man. She’d decided long ago that Denny had a roguish face and a disarming smile, and she didn’t want to think that he was just another Shallow Hal swinging by to wank one out while looking at her pictures. So instead of potentially ruining her vision of him, she preferred to have him remain a mystery. In the midst of her pausing over his picture and wondering for the hundredth time what it would be like to taste his lips she realized that something was different.

He’d actually messaged her.

“Good morning, would love to talk to you…”

Well this was certainly not the way she’d expected her Friday to start off, but she also wasn’t the type to ignore a polite invitation. They exchanged a few brief messages and instead of delaying that inevitable moment where she confirmed he was either A) an arrogant jerk B) seeking to add someone to his poly relationship or C) trying to convince her that over his lap with her ass in the air would be her new favorite position if only she’d give it a try, she decided to cut to the chase and just call him.

Much to her surprise, he was a perfect gentleman and continued to be, almost every time they’d spoken. Occasionally he would sneak in a teasing comment or call her by her favorite nickname in that deep, seductive voice of his and she would find her resolve instantly melting.

“Yes, Daddy” he would almost growl. Hearing those words come from his mouth affected her more than she cared to admit. He never called her by her name, preferring instead to use terms of endearment including a nicely placed “Daddy” on a regular basis.

Just as she made it a point to endear herself to her intended by learning all of their interests and triggers; she quickly realized that this one did the same. Much like herself, he also loved the thrill of the hunt but unlike she; he was quite content to be the prey. And for once, she’d finally found someone who didn’t seem to want to change a thing about her.

As a result of what they slowly started to discover about one another, a low vibration would sometimes start coursing through her body when they spoke. To hear her describe it, it was what she imagined it would be like walking up on a large and very busy bee hive. The hum starts off in a subtle manner and the closer she would venture towards her target; the stronger and deeper the vibration until it fully enveloped her.

After more than three years of being dormant, Hiss was reawakening.

Her naturally warm and nurturing demeanor was at times quite deceiving, as there was a very dark and sadistic side of her that had been locked away for some time. In order to feed that side of herself she needed much more than most in the lifestyle were able to offer her, and instead of trying to satiate the need with those who regularly volunteered she reluctantly shut it down instead. Without a genuine connection she compared most interactions as trying to scratch an itch that was so deeply imbedded underneath the surface that no matter how hard she tried, she could never quite reach it.

Soon, he would be walking through her door. She had already warned him that doing so meant that he gave her consent to use him however she pleased, and the thought of ravaging his flesh made her ache with need.  Picturing him naked and being held captive by the chains under her bed have kept her in a near constant state of arousal as of late, and she knows its just a matter of time before she sinks into him and breathes in the heady combination of his pain, arousal and masculine energy.

Her eyes narrow and a slightly sinister smile crosses her lips at the thought.

It won’t be much longer.

She’s finally met her match, and patiently waits for the game to begin.

Meat Cute – A Kinky Love Story

It’s amazing how life can be catapulted from stagnant to amazing in the blink of an eye with just a few seemingly minor occurrences. A random drop of water leads to a trickle which runs into a widening stream and suddenly the floodgates have opened and I am bathing wholly in my feminine glory to an extent that I haven’t ever been able to explore, and here I sit trying to properly capture the wonder of it all.

Recently my close friend Maxine had mentioned she was going out to the local Kink Club, and I responded I’d be interested in going. That night ended a very long dry spell for both of us as neither of us had scened in years, but we both had a fantastic time and it continued on subsequent evenings that we attended. Around the same time I had started becoming somewhat active again on Fetlife after basically abandoning my profile for years.

It was through Fetlife that I was contacted by an intriguing 31 year old, 6’4 gender fluid body modification artist named J that had recently moved to town and didn’t know anyone in the lifestyle. We started a conversation and I found him to be very respectful and easy to talk to and we made plans to meet for coffee which ended up getting completely waylaid and became a trip shopping for corsets and sex toys with Maxine. When we finally made it back to my home Maxine went home and it was past midnight before I reluctantly kicked J out as I had to work the next day.

During a visit to the kink club I had asked the owner of the club if guys were into being pegged there as that is one of my favorite activities, and she mentioned that there was an upcoming FemDomme night and she could set up a small demo. I said “Great! Count me in!” Apparently I need to pay better attention to how I word things with her as unbeknownst to me I had just agreed to be the presenter of the demo, which I didn’t realize until the day before the event.

Immediately I contacted Maxine and asked her to be my bottom for the demo (she is trans and pegging is an amazing sensation for anyone with a prostate) and as she had been in full blown slut mode from the previous several weeks activities; she readily agreed. I advised her I wanted to use her in an objectification scene – simply meaning that she was to be there as a receptacle for my cock with me not giving any particular concern or attention to whether or not she was getting any pleasure out of the activity. This sort of scenario is particularly appealing to her so I knew it wouldn’t be an issue and we set plans in motion. I then contacted J and advised him of what I’d discovered and let him know if he wanted to be a part of the demo he was more than welcome to join in, as he was attending the club with us for the first time the following evening.

The demo with Maxine went flawlessly. She was wearing a full facial shield and was completely disconnected going into the scene and I bound her to the table face down by leather wrist and ankle cuffs and proceeded to rip a hole through her fishnets and fuck her roughly to multiple silent orgasms while spectators looked on. When I was through with her I released her from the table and hugged her and made sure she was okay, and looked at J to see if he was willing to take her place.

Much to my surprise, he was.

Up until this point he and I had only hugged. He is over a foot taller than I am with long slender legs, is covered in tattoos and has horn implants and a disarmingly gentle and somewhat shy demeanor. He was wearing a tight black body suit and a lace full head mask that covered his entire face aside from his mouth. With J I took a softer approach and had him lay on his back as I started probing him gently with my lubed and gloved fingers; my eyes locked on his through the lace as I was doing so. I filled my shooter full of lube and slid it into him and stroked my cock as I was searching his eyes for signs that he was ready and then slowly started pushing into him. Once I’d gained initial entrance I stayed still and he moved his hips to accommodate me fully and I watched his eyes roll back into his head as his mouth let out a soft moan. We started to move together and I leaned forward and whispered “Hey – I guess this means we’ll be doing this again?” To which he immediately started nodding his head and replied “Oh yeah!”

I pulled him on top of me and had him riding me and for a moment forgot that we were surrounded by an audience. I told him we would continue privately and so we ended the scene without an orgasm but having made a very profound and unexpected connection.

J ended up spending the weekend with me and what started off as completely platonic (aside from the demo) very quickly evolved into something quite unexpected for both of us. I found that this beautiful, gentle creature with the somewhat startling visage harbors one of the kindest and most sensitive hearts I’ve met in a very long time. Time and time again I would catch myself staring deeply into his soft brown eyes and dreading the moment he had to leave. Somehow in spite of the fact that all of this seems crazy on paper; together we are as fluid as water. Somehow, quite by accident my perfect dance partner found me.

His smile is radiant, and genuine. His laugh comes from his belly and his love is free flowing and protective at the same time. He doesn’t want to change a single thing about me and finds my impulsive nature fun and has easily adapted to sudden changes in plans.

Sex between two such open beings creates an endless amount of delicious combinations, and we spend hours upon hours in a naked, heated tangle exploring each other. Previously he had only been able to enjoy certain activities solo and these days has discovered that sensuality shared is immeasurably more pleasurable. For the last several years I’ve been primarily solo and had all but locked much of my own sexuality away so all of this has also been an incredible reawakening for me – between coming back to the lifestyle as well as this new relationship and nurturing it to see exactly where it leads, becoming a stronger Sadist to Maxine and becoming sexually active again, it’s all been extremely heady.

They say good things come to those who wait, and you can’t always get what you want but if you try sometimes…you get what you need. I thought I knew what I wanted and needed. It turns out that perhaps I didn’t have all of the answers after all.

I’m perfectly OK with that.

Connection starts between the ears – discovering hypnosis.

Years ago I had a wonderful and very intense relationship with my late submissive J, (no – I didn’t do anything to hasten his demise) that had developed into a hypnotic connection. I was in my early 20’s and he 17 years older and a vast majority of our relationship developed and was conducted over the phone. There was such a close bond that we discovered I could talk him off – make him orgasm – without him ever touching himself. All it took was a certain tone in my voice and me speaking to him in a positive, reinforcing manner to make it happen.

Our relationship was one that started out as a professional one through phone sex and turned into a deep friendship that had developed over many years. He was married and slept nude and was also a heavy ejaculator with a very strong sex drive and prone to having wet dreams. Playful, teasing humiliation was the drug that kept him deeply enamored.

As he was always very good at following directions he never went against my wishes when I instructed him to edge himself but not cum. It frustrated him immensely and I found an intense level of joy in inflicting a certain amount of discomfort within him because it kept him poised and attentive at all times.

He was a trial lawyer and constantly surrounded by the upper echelon in his field. He also never wore underwear and would drip heavily when aroused and had a beautifully thick cock that was impossible to hide when awakened. He had a serious addiction to my voice and my teasing cruelty and the fact that I loved to put him in compromising positions; so he would often stealth away from dinner parties and company to sneak a quick call to me. It was during those moments I would tell him in great detail all of the awful things that I was going to do to him, often threatening to cuckold him and turn him into my sweet little cocksucker and clean up boy. The suggestions that absolutely horrified him the most were also the ones that turned him on the greatest and I absolutely loved putting on an icy tone and telling him exactly how I would make these scenarios happen. Over the years we had fallen in love and his addiction to our lifestyle and subspace and the release it offered intensified and he would struggle to maintain his professional composure while his body readily betrayed it’s need. I very much enjoyed playing the Puppetmaster in our little games, and we played them frequently.

Over time I discovered that while he was sitting in his office at work, with one hand on the phone and the other on his desk, I could send him into great, convulsive messy orgasms that would immediately soak through his suit and he would then have to McGuyver his way to change. He once tried to sneak out of his office and had a room full of people nearby so went to the adjoining kitchen and “dumped” a jar of mayonnaise on his lap to cover up his shame. I was hysterical laughing at his description.

I could also instruct that he wasn’t to masturbate to orgasm for a period of time, and he would not have any wet dreams for x amount of days. Or he would have one on this particular night or two this night. It used to particularly entertain me to instruct them to happen when he was sleeping beside his wife as he always had such a big mess to clean up while trying not to wake her.

Up until my most recent relationship that ended this past July I had not played with hypnosis at all, but when my previous partner expressed an interest in it I did take some online classes and found I could put her under as well. It was really nice to know that having that type of connection with someone was still possible and it is certainly one I would like to explore again.

While I do love to use the various toys and implements at my disposal there is absolutely nothing more powerful to me than holding my beloved captive with the binds that I’ve instilled within their own mind.

I truly believe that a whisper can hold more power than a whip ever will.

Sweetly Sadistic. Is It an Oxymoron?

It’s funny (not funny ha ha but more funny disappointing) how during this arduous search for my one I’ve come across so many that seem to only want to communicate with certain parts of me.

I’ve had those that are simply looking to be owned, under the harshest of circumstances. Kept as a full time servant and beaten with regularity, treated as a thing and given no kindness.

Others that wish to be kept as a cuckold husband in chastity, with only their mouths and holes being used for pleasure by myself or those I choose. My husband would happily support me having as many lovers as I choose while he is kept chaste.

I’ve been approached by people bragging about being “K-9 bitch boys” and wanting to eat shit on cam and pay me to watch them do it. Even though it states on my profile specifically that if either of those two things are mentioned, they will get blocked. No passing go. No collecting $200. The block button has been a good friend as of late. I could literally retire and spend my days creating my art and beating boys to my hearts content and live very well without ever having to punch a clock ever again, if I chose to do so.

I’ve even been approached by people asking for me to eventually “end” them. Now, I do describe myself sometimes as Dexter without the killing but honestly, why would I want to do something like that? I’m fascinated by fear play and taking my partner to the edge over and over again and that takes a tremendous amount of trust. I don’t break my toys. I will hurt you, I’ll never harm you. That being said I did get a very enticing offer recently to castrate someone though his request and my option were completely different. I am not a surgeon and have no desire to cut someone open, but I did find this handy device and it is now in my collection.

I ask people who are interested in me to read this blog, simply because it gives folks that are seriously interested in me an opportunity to get a peek into how I navigate my world. Activities that the Muggles would be horrified by; I simply refer to as “Because it’s Tuesday”. Yes, I do very much enjoy extremely dark activities, but I counterbalance that with my day to day. My home is bright and cheerful. I do volunteer work including making life castings for friends with family members in Hospice. Eventually I hope to be able to buy a piece of land and rescue animals and foster, with a special interest in elderly dogs. I work in a corporate setting but my true love is art and my professional goal is to be able to transition myself into a full time artist; and be able to offer my Hospice life castings on a more consistent basis.

My biggest personal goal is to get back on track in regards to my physical fitness. While I do walk daily during my lunch break at work and work out three mornings a week before work I’ve done really well in a very regimented workout and meal plan in the past and wish to get back into it; but it’s hard to get motivated to do it alone.

I’m fully aware this blog entry is quite the snoozer compared to a lot of the others but it’s important that potential suitors recognize and speak to me as a whole person. I’m way more than the Sadist who gets off on hearing her lover scream. I’m not just the kinky chick that enjoys bending her man over on a regular and pounding him with her fat cock that she wears with nothing but a t-shirt on the weekends. Nor the future wife that will keep him naked in front of her girlfriends and let them fuck him mercilessly as well when she’s feeling particularly generous. I read a profile recently and the gentleman stated he was looking for a woman who was “clit-centric” and that very much describes me. I generally refer to it as a girlie boner and as I typically masturbate on a daily basis, servicing me would become part of the routine because when the girlie boner gets activated; I’m like a teenage boy. The whole fucking world stops until I have an orgasm. That could mean a variety of things to my partner from mouth to the use of his cock, or I could strap on mine and happily fill him while continuing to work myself up and figure out the end result later, which may or may not include an orgasm for him.

Oh yeah. I do enjoy tease and denial. I also enjoy playing around with chastity but haven’t had much of an opportunity to explore there.

My point is this: it’s the full package, or it’s nothing. I’m the one who wants someone by her side for all of the mundane day to day that a full time relationship/marriage requires as well as all of the depravity that the kink side encompasses. With me, there is no singular way, I enjoy sex, sensuality and sadism in all of it’s many forms and I’m happy to explore these with the right person. I’m not seeking my right now, I’m searching for the total package, who wants a total package as well.

It’s not all about me, it’s about balance. It’s about finding the perfect dance partner who is confident and capable enough to slay the dragons but who also finds solace at the feet of his partner. I want to be his biggest supporter, the person he relies on for strength and comfort, love and pain. The one who breaks him; and the one who rebuilds. My world is full of laughter and love but is also colored with darkness and depravity and I have been very successful with being able to fluidly travel within it’s various nuances. I am the woman who would accompany you to a stuffy corporate awards meeting and would be smiling deviously as you’re taking the podium to speak in front of hundreds of people; because my finger would be poised on the remote control that is connected to the large bluetooth enabled plug that is firmly positioned inside your rectum awaiting discharge. At every moment of every day you would be aware of who you were to me, and how very cherished and valued and owned you are.

Oh and one final goal I’d like to mention. I’ve had several people tell me they think I should write a book, but as I literally have the attention span of a fruit fly I’d need someone to help me stay on track. I’ve found the perfect device to help me do this, now I just need a volunteer to build a more comfortable (for me) and slightly modified for writing version and who is willing and able to be in this position for hours at a time.

Interested parties, please feel free to contact me.

Whispers From a Past Life

Recently a new friend stumbled across some of my old writings from 2008, and mentioned how much he enjoyed them. I thought I would share them here as they are still very much the person I am today.

JOURNAL ENTRY

Hunger

I am yours to do with as you wish, he said.

Perhaps he realized the depths of his words, but I choose to think he did not. Though he had seen her play harshly with others; all he knew of her was the light hearted spirit she had shown him…the nurturing, caring woman who always asked how his day went, and expressed concern when things weren’t going so well.

Now it was his turn in the chains.

He greeted her naked, as he was instructed to do. Soon enough she had him cuffed and chained to the bed, and made it a point to let him know that there was no way to escape his restraints. He saw a wicked smile upon her face that until that point; had only been reserved for others.

Though she was kind in feeding her need…she still made him repeatedly cry out in pain….yet made sure to inflict gentle kisses upon him as well as to nurse the life into his aching cock..confusing his body as she had his mind. Lowering herself upon his chained hand, she showed him the arousal that his discomfort brought to her and praised him for how well he had suffered for her.

She will feed his needs….as he feeds hers….a sharp smack, a hand held at the throat, a rough fuck….the lines are blurred and the hunger grows….on Nov. 26, 2008

JOURNAL ENTRY

Patience.

I’ve never really given any serious consideration into why I am the way I am and what motivates me to participate in activities that the majority of the population would consider at the very least; distasteful. I’ve always been pretty accepting of the fact that even though I look like the girl next door I am quite simply not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m okay with that. I don’t want to be like everyone else. My fantasies are dark and twisted; as is the secret but incredibly satisfying life I lead.

Meeting you has been a bit of a re-introduction to self. I look at you and wonder what motivates you to do the things you do. To trust me so deeply that you would let me take you along this path. I look at me and wonder how I can crave you as I do; aching to satisfy a hunger inside myself that you have reawakened. Having a full comprehension of the way I feel about you I know that part of me should feel guilty…you say you will never be the type of person to ask to be hurt; yet I’ve seen it happen to the strongest of people; time and time again. Weakness in character does not allow someone to offer themselves the way you do. If things continue in the direction they are headed the need to submit will overwhelm the desire to please and inevitably; you will find yourself aching to be broken. The stresses of the week, the voices in your head and the anxiety in your gut will eventually only be calmed by the intense release that I have introduced you to. No amount of sex, cigarettes, liquor or other vices will be able to satisfy it. I should feel guilty; but I don’t. I know you no longer take things lightly but love; we’ve barely scratched the surface.

I see bruises that fade after a couple of days…I long for them to last for weeks. My teeth bruise your skin…sometimes I fantasize about kissing you deeply and letting you taste your own blood. I want to trace needles upon your skin, and make you watch as I shove them through and then lower my mouth to soothe the wound. I am patient, and I would never abuse the incredible gift you’ve given me…but I will make you want it. I will get into you so deeply that your need is as deep, and dark and complex as mine. My love for you allows me to share Her with you, because I know…no matter what transpires between us…you will always forgive me. Your pain brings me peace. Your trust brings me freedom. Your love fills my heart…and your gift satisfies my soul.

You always hurt the one you love. Truer words were never spoken, even if the sentiment was not intended as it applies to me. Yes, I will take all that you offer me…and a little bit more than you think you can give. on Dec. 16, 2008

Just call me Mantis. Tess for short.

Because apparently I mate and then there’s the messy business of a beheading that follows. The truly bizarre thing to me is that I *DO* come with a disclaimer, and a warning. Multiple in fact. This blog being the biggest one as it’s a requirement that anyone who wants to come see me read this before they even consider riding the ride. No exceptions.

In spite of all efforts, finding my one has thus far proven fruitless. I’ve had three come here to visit me with high hopes and clean STI panels, and all three have left with their proverbial hats in hand.

Right before he arrived he mentioned he had just quit smoking two packs a day and vaped daily.

Over the phone Tennessee though young at 31 was very sweet, easy to talk to and felt very comfortable. He worked in a very intense atmosphere but never seemed to get flustered no matter what happened and I really admired how he kept cool under pressure. Around a month after we started talking he had mentioned he had GERD and I asked him if there was anything else he hadn’t mentioned and that’s when he off handedly disclosed he had full dentures. I was completely taken off guard by the news but by that time really liked him so didn’t change plans. Those things were all he mentioned.

The reality of it was that he vaped pretty much constantly and also had failed to disclose he had Asperger’s which I discovered when he had a complete meltdown while trying to back up my truck with a trailer in tow. I’m perfectly fine with folks on the spectrum but feel it is important to know someone’s full history up front before we consider getting into a relationship, especially with my preferred extreme style of play.

He did indeed have a full set of dentures and would come out of the bedroom and sit on the couch with his face half sunken in because he wasn’t wearing them and oftentimes they would not be maintained properly, with them visibly needing to be brushed.

All of this coupled with the fact that I was constantly going behind him shutting doors and cabinets and all he wanted to do was watch cartoons and play video games felt like way too much of a project.

Next was New York. Really sharp, outgoing and congenial. Married but living in two homes because they’d been separated for several years and shared responsibility of their children. Right before he arrived he mentioned he had sensitivities to fragrance and asked me not to wear perfume or deodorant. Upon arrival that turned into “I’m really turned on by primal scents so I would strongly prefer if you don’t bathe for a day before I come or while I’m here.” Which then turned into “I’m so looking forward to waking up to you without makeup tomorrow.”

When we went to run errands the next day I put a bit of makeup on and he expressed his disappointment. Multiple times. I advised him I had heard his preference but I was going to go out in the manner I felt comfortable and he was unhappy about my decision but left it alone.

All in all we had three things that completely killed all chances. I’ve made it very clear that I am into penetrative sex, both giving and receiving. Turns out that his penis didn’t work for that particular duty unless you were being extremely degrading towards him.

I do not speak to people using the particular style of humiliation/degradation he needed, and the only way he could use that particular body part in that manner was when he was being spoken to like that. That would have been a deal killer up front had it been disclosed.

He also passed gas loudly and with enthusiasm from arrival, without bothering to be even mildly discreet about it. When I brought it up his response was “What? It’s just air. It doesn’t stink! Does it stink?!?” As if that made it all okay. Meanwhile I half expected him to be able to actually launch himself across the room considering the velocity it sounded like he was pushing at times.

Finally, he hadn’t disclosed to his wife that he was interested in starting a relationship with someone across country and she made it crystal clear she would not be cooperative with making arrangements when it came time to assist with taking care of the needs of the children.

After dealing with the shameful dick and incessant flatulance situations, I wasn’t unhappy that his wife decided to put the hammer down.

Finally, there’s New Hampshire. He was convinced that I was the one he had been waiting for his entire life, and mentioned a wedding ring several times. I found him incredibly intense and his energy frequently overbearing, and told him so multiple times.

I am an intense person during play, but outside of play I’m an extroverted introvert who mostly keeps to herself and can happily spend entire weekends alone and lost in my art. I don’t need every moment filled with noise or chatter and when conflicts arise I sometimes need a little time to process before jumping into the subject at hand. He and I had numerous discussions about these things as I felt it could be problematic but he was convinced that all he needed was patience and a little training and we’d be good to go. Against my better judgement we made arrangements for him to come in.

Wednesday night at 9:30 I met him at the airport, and handed him a shooter filled with lube that I had tucked in my boot. He had been instructed not to speak to me until given permission and he disappeared into the bathroom with the shooter and to install the remote anal plug I’d instructed him to purchase. I turned it on and we hopped in my truck.

I was wearing a long skirt and was wearing my strap on with my most slender cock underneath, and showed it to him in the truck. He pulled out the three he had purchased for the trip, all of a shorter stature due to physical limitations he had regarding length. According to what he had disclosed to me anything deeper than what he brought would put him in excruciating pain so he brought those for us to play with but the ring I was wearing on my harness allowed all three of them to easily slip through. I put my original cock back in play and once getting on the expressway instructed him to show me what a good little cocksucker he was; a task he enthusiastically started performing.

Once we arrived in my home I introduced him to my dog, a rescue pit and we moved to my bedroom where I had him set up my massage table. I instructed him to strip and he semi enthusiastically massaged me, it was late and neither of us had slept well the night before so we ended up having sex and crawling into bed.

After laying there for a few minutes he jumped up and my dog repositioned himself, NH as a stranger in the dark tried to push my dog and was rewarded with a quick snap to the face. Luckily there was no broken skin but it was an unexpected and uncomfortable situation for all.

At around 5:30 AM I woke up to him letting my dog out of the room and when I questioned him he said “I’m going to harass you for a little bit.” I told him he’d been doing that all night and when he asked what I meant I stated he’d been restless, jerking covers, running his hand up my leg repeatedly and the room was freezing due to me turning on a window AC for him that I typically only use as a supplement during the worst of the summer. He asked if I wanted him to go to the other room and I said yes and then went back to sleep.

When I woke up a few hours later still exhausted and grouchy I made coffee for us. He wanted to talk and I reminded him what I’d mentioned before he arrived, I’m not a morning person and sometimes (like this one) I need time to process things. He left me alone for a while but then came back again, wanting to broach the subject.

He eventually came around to the question “Do you want me here or not?” and I honestly answered at that moment, no. That my concerns prior to arrival were confirmed and I felt that energetically we were very different, that we clashed. We were very different people and I thought we could perhaps be friends but didn’t see a future for us. He admitted he thought the same but he liked me and was attracted to me and thought we could still have a good time and I told him I’m seeking a lifetime, not just a good time. A couple of times he repeated “I was just trying to be a gentleman.” (By asking that question.)

He was disappointed by my answer, but it was an honest one.

I dropped him back off at the airport shortly thereafter and his parting words to me were “It didn’t have to be this way. All my friends warned me. You’re alone for a reason, because you want to be.”

I just told him “Whatever you need to tell yourself to feel better” and got in my truck and came home. Having him in my space was quite literally the equivalent of how a cat must feel when it is being stroked backward. Initially it was acceptable but upon realizing the situation was just going to continue; the sensation felt unbearable. While overall he was a nice guy, he was simply overwhelming to me energetically. He lasted all of 15 hours.

Yes I am alone because currently I choose to be, until I find someone that is going to fill my cup without causing me to sacrifice a piece of myself in the process. Someone who makes me laugh even though I bring him to tears and who loves me unconditionally even though his pain and suffering will be my sustenance.

I am in search of my final love, not simply my next one and when I find him he will be cherished and loved with the blood bound devotion that I’ve never been able to freely share with anyone. In spite of my disappointments I still hold onto the glimmer of hope that he’s searching for me, and so I continue to try to keep an open heart and the Sadist quiet until she is free to feed.

I owe myself that much.

Dating When Kinky – Let’s Just Complicate Matters, Shall We?

Being in the dating scene these days is crazy enough, but try being a curvy teal haired 53 year old with a taste for blood and a strap on named Thor and things can get a bit tricky.

While I would absolutely love for a dashing gentleman around my age to come sweep me off my feet; it simply hasn’t happened. The ones who are even remotely interested in me are either married, in a different country, look like they are about to keel over dead, or have about as much personality as the sponge that sits by my kitchen sink.

I’ve had a dating profile on a kink site for a while and at this point have probably conversed with a couple of hundred people. For the most part the conversation ends pretty quickly as I have a tendency to be rather dismissive if I’m not interested, or I’ll simply send them this blog and that usually makes them realize that they probably would rather not end up in a hypnotic trance and screwed to my butterfly board with inescapable metal banding in the middle of my art room while I staple up their fancy bits with medical staples. (Yes that has happened and eventually I’ll end up posting about it.)

And then along comes this tall drink of water from Tennessee popping in. He’d sent me a message back in March that I’d initially ignored and he was back again. This time I replied as his profile and contacts had a sweetness about them and I had recently been feeling particularly jaded. In this case timing was everything and his response was warm and friendly without being pushy.

We quickly moved to KiK and then text. Shortly thereafter we were on the phone. You could tell he was nervous but he politely answered all of my questions and seemed genuinely interested in knowing all about me. I’d pointed him in the direction of the blog and he was actually more curious than intimidated which was quite surprising for someone with limited experience. I kept thinking I should throw him back for being “too little” but there was something that kept drawing me back to him. The conversations flowed effortlessly and for the first time in a really long time I felt like a priority to someone who while technically still a stranger; had already started to become a significant part of my day and I found myself looking forward to speaking with him. When bringing up the age difference he just laughed and asked what the big deal was? (He’s 31) “Guys do it all the time.” I honestly had nothing in response.

Popping in on him on video chat for the first time I’d caught him off guard as he’d recently woken up. He works overnights and his hair was tousled, his big brown eyes were sleepy and all I could focus on was this:

Holy shit, what an intoxicating combination. His shy, sweet smile and slightly nervous fidgeting and that mouth. That mouth that I could kiss for days. That full bottom lip that I want to bite into as I feel him quickly suck in his breath.

I’ve explained what would be expected from him if we were to enter into a relationship and he were to move here. I am very open about who I am without slamming everyone over the head with it; but friends, family and coworkers would automatically know he was not just my partner but my submissive. We would function as a couple and enjoy the regular mundane relationship activities but he would have a regular chore list to take care of around our home and yard. He would learn how to cook, as that isn’t a skill he currently possesses. He would maintain his full time job and contribute to the household financially while maintaining his own accounts separately. Massaging me and grooming my hair would become a regular part of his routine.

He has a very profound foot fetish and knows that I will use that to my best advantage; not only would I be getting foot massages as frequently as possible but I would make his massage skills available to any of my girlfriends who wanted to put him to use as well. (With the explanation to them in advance that it is a fetish for him, I wouldn’t not disclose that information.) Additionally, he would be kept locked in chastity and the key worn around my neck and in plain sight at all times, until such time as I released him for use. His mouth would be available to me at all times with the current expectation being that I would be serviced nightly and can hopefully finally unplug the damn Hitachi that has been a staple beside my bed for almost two years. (If it doesn’t happen soon I swear I’m starting a class action suit for all of us who have ground our clits off from this particular apparatus!) He would be taught to take my strap on both orally and anally and that would also become a regular part of our play. Bruises and markings are not an issue and if all goes well, eventually he would wear my collar.

Next weekend he is meeting up with a girlfriend of mine who lives nearby so she can give me her first hand impression of him, and he has readily agreed to provide me a recent STI screening and I’ve been provided all of his information for his background check.

I know that a lot of this sounds extremely one sided, but I can assure you that it is not. He is extremely service oriented and we have openly discussed everything that I’ve discussed here, with input from him as well and he has freely and without coercion agreed to all of it if we reach that stage as what I’ve described perfectly aligns with what he has also been seeking. When I am in a relationship I am completely invested and go above and beyond to make sure that my partner gets everything they need out of it as well, and I don’t sit idly by while they do all of the heavy lifting. While the play is intense I also take great care to put my partner back together afterward. Additionally, I am in search of a legitimate relationship built on a deep and committed love and mutual respect who’s company I can truly enjoy both in and out of the bedroom. While it remains to be seen if he is the one who will step into that role, it has certainly been wonderful soaking in everything I can about him, and hearing my name spoken in that soft southern drawl. My wicked little heart is blissfully happy these days at whatever the future may hold, even if it’s just that I’ve found a beautiful new friend.

OK that’s a total lie. I’d be PROFOUNDLY disappointed if there was no in-person chemistry but considering as much time as we’ve spend communicating including video-chat I think we’ll be fine.

Meanwhile if it does all work out I’ll have to hear my Mother chastise me about playing with children yet again. (The ex was 16 years younger and the ex ex was 10 years younger.) While I can appreciate the fact that she dearly wishes I would find someone with an AARP card, unfortunately Jeffrey Dean Morgan is taken and Sam Elliot stopped returning my calls.

Maybe in the next lifetime, Ma. Stay tuned…

A Fresh Start and a New Perspective.

I broke my own rule. Badly. I PROMISED myself that after my almost nine relationship with C ended I would never settle for “almost” again. Yet I did.

In all fairness, I’m glad I did because had I not there are some significant things that transpired over the last year and a half that likely would have never occurred; but in my heart of hearts by last April when things initially went tits up I knew we were doomed and no matter how much superglue and duct tape was applied there was no real chance of it being more than a seasonal thing. Still, I’m incredibly stubborn and an eternal optimist so I ignored all of the warning signs and kept moving forward because when things worked they were nothing short of magical.

As a direct result of us being together I became proactive with my health. (Yes I just turned 53 but I don’t have all the normal aches and pains you’d normally associate with growing older and despise going to Doctors.) I fell in love with my art again and work on it almost daily. I started writing as she is a voracious reader and have actually recently considered writing a book as I’ve had multiple requests for one. I’m about to be on a podcast because of becoming active in the lifestyle again. I finally stopped suppressing the darker side of me and embraced the Sadist within; accepting that I can still be the loving, nurturing person I am and let her feed as well and I became sober. None of these things are insignificant and I shall always be grateful for having her in my life, even if it didn’t last.

That being said, I find myself in search for My One. If interested in this position there are some requirements I am looking for. Some that are absolutely non negotiable, and some things that are a bit more fluid that can be discussed.

You must be single. I truly tried being part of a poly relationship for a year and a half and it absolutely didn’t work for me. I even considered perhaps getting a primary for myself (I was mono the entire time) and maintaining the original relationship as a way to keep it going but after a lot of soul searching have decided to abandon that option. I simply don’t have the time or emotional capacity to devote myself to more than one relationship.

You must be an exceptional communicator, especially when the subject is uncomfortable. Consistency in communication and transparency are incredibly important to me. Half truths and omitting pertinent details because you’re afraid of what my reaction could be may as well be considered lies in my eyes because to me; they count as such. A relationship such as what I seek can only be built on absolute trust and we have to be able to trust each other implicitly and without reservation. Even if you are afraid of my reaction to bad or uncomfortable news you need to know that typically I might want to have an extended conversation to try to get a better understanding about the subject or I may need some time to quietly process and reflect before discussing. I’m not one who yells, insults or flies off the handle unless pushed excessively for an extended period of time. I also do not play or punish when angry.

Before ANY play or fluid exchange of any kind occurs, you must provide a recent and clear STD panel. I have one on hand and expect one from my future partner, no exceptions.

If you are not local to the Jacksonville, Florida area you must be willing and able to relocate within a reasonable amount of time. We can discuss whether or not you would live in my home but if you do as I am fully set up you would be expected to arrive with minimal belongings and no pets. (I am allergic to cats and have a currently not new animal friendly rescue pit and we’re working with a trainer but he’s not there yet.) You would need to be service oriented and would contribute financially to the home.

Your credit profile would be provided to me so I can see how financially responsible you are. I am in banking and am fully self supporting but absolutely will not pay your bills (nor do I want you paying mine beyond what we mutually agree upon in advance should you move in with me) and it is important to me that anyone who joins my house shows personal responsibility for their finances. Years ago I lost everything that I had and literally had to start over from nothing after having worked extremely hard to build my credit. Issues with medical bills and one off situations happen; we can discuss those.

Mental and physical issues and limitations must be discussed early on in the getting to know you stages. Within the last two months it was determined I was dealing with depression and I am currently (and for the first time in my life) on Lexapro and will be talking to my Doctor about weaning off of it shortly as it appears the need for it has passed. I’m not one who typically has extreme mood swings at all and am known for having a consistent demeanor.

I am a Sadist. If you absolutely hate pain but feel you would be an absolutely amazing fit otherwise; please move on as it would be a waste of time for us both. From my personal ad:

I’m very sweet, kind and nurturing but when it comes time to play I play hard, and I feed deeply. I’m not for the faint of heart. I will tear you to pieces but when the storm is over I will love you back together.

Your screams, bruises, tears and anguish are all aphrodisiacs to me. I enjoy everything from sensory deprivation to confinement to strap on play to blood play and if we were in a relationship you will be passed amongst my friends for their enjoyment as well. You would be my most prized possession but would be subject to whatever thought amuses me at any given time.

I’m only interested in someone who is proactive and doesn’t need a micromanager. I’m an incredibly giving person and am looking for someone who’s presence will be a benefit to my life as I plan to be to theirs. I am also very much affected by energy so am looking for someone who is positive, happy and proactive in leading a productive and healthy yet extremely kinky life with someone who adores you but also who has absolutely no problem smiling sweetly at you as she is licking your blood off of her lips.

Expounding on that as intense as I am during play, I am also extremely down to earth, playful and loving. I work a corporate job and am an artist as well, and have a very free spirited goofy side to counter the constantly responsible part of me that is always present. I’m a hopeless romantic who loves nothing more than an Alpha man who is willing to be vulnerable for me and still have hopes that he is out there somewhere.

If you’re still reading this and feel as if you’d like to throw your hat in the ring; I’d love to chat with you. I have a passport and a strong desire for adventure and am ready to start building a life with my Happily Ever After.

On the Other Side of Fear

So much has happened since the last blog entry. Much of it has been amazing but as always life has thrown some pretty significant curve balls just to keep things interesting.

I’ll come back and catch you all up on some of the stories that I’ve been remiss in posting but for now I’d like to FasTrack up to present day:

Muse and I reconciled. We laid out some boundaries that have been very effective in helping with our relationship and we’ve grown exponentially as a couple.

I stopped drinking altogether. As of this writing next week it will be six months since I’ve had any alcohol.

At the end of June Muse came to stay with me for almost two weeks and we had an AMAZING visit. After she left I came to a realization that hit me so hard it’s still affecting us to this day and I’m trying to work through it.

It’s no secret that I came into a poly relationship very strongly identifying as a mono. When I’m in a relationship I’m completely and totally with that person and that person alone. (Random party favors during play to me don’t count and are agreed upon by all parties.) It’s also no secret that Muse is a very unique individual and takes up a lot of space. I never in a million years thought that I would be interested nor could I honestly handle a full time relationship with her and over the last year and half (ish) had fallen into a comfortable routine of seeing her when time allowed; which is averaging every other weekend these days.

When she stayed with me, suddenly we had time. It wasn’t just a weekend filled with play but we were actually able to function as a couple. Nothing was rushed and for the first time in over two years I was able to fall asleep and wake up in the arms of my love. And then one day I went to work and came home to an empty house.

A wave of grief hit me. I’d honestly forgotten how much I enjoyed being in the ongoing presence of my partner and working as a team. It was a perfectly sharpened, finely honed double edged sword.

Now I realize that it may sound almost ridiculous to some for me to say this considering some of the things that I and my partner do together but just because I love differently, it doesn’t mean that my love is any less meaningful. I had just locked away that part of me that allowed that particular emotion to run free and unchecked for more than a few days at a time.

Suddenly I found myself floundering because Muse and her wife are currently dealing with some pretty significant issues and not only am I not in a position to be able to offer any assistance to them; I haven’t wanted to burden my partner with my sudden epiphany. After all, she wasn’t the one who suddenly had a chance of heart, I was.

I’m such a conflicted little Sadist these days. How do I reconcile the fact that my heart and my body come alive when the one who feeds me is within arms reach at any given moment, but she is not available to me as I desire?

We’ve evolved so much over the time we’ve been together what pulses inside me had transformed to a need; much like the air I breathe. I need the fear. I need the agony. I need the blood of another on my lips and coursing through my veins. But I also need the gentle laughter over a private joke, the comfort of falling asleep in my lover’s arms; the sense of accomplishment when we’ve dealt with something mundane as a couple.

I’ve tried repeatedly to reassure her that she’s done nothing wrong and that this is all on me. If anything, it’s because she’s loved me so brilliantly that I’ve realized that it’s time for me to work on finding that missing piece and I’ve come to the conclusion that perhaps seeking a primary partner for myself could help to satisfy my aching heart.

Anyone who seeks to go on this little adventure with me would have to understand that my pixie isn’t going anywhere (at least by my choice) and I’m totally new to the poly lifestyle so I have absolutely no idea how I will handle trying to balance multiple relationships.

They would have to be willing to be patient, because I can’t guarantee I’ll do everything right. They would have to understand I’m terrified, because while I’m a Sadist, I would never intentionally harm anyone and somewhere along the lines I’m sure feelings will get hurt. They would have to be kinky because while I love the ice cream melting over a bowl of warm peach cobbler, vanilla does nothing for me in the bedroom. But most of all they would have to be willing to be naked. Not just in body, but in spirit because I can no longer swim in the shallow end of the pool and I need to be partnered with those who are willing to be as raw and wicked, bloody and as vulnerable as I am. My pixie does everything within her power to make sure I have everything I need as she is able, but perhaps I still have a missing piece…

Trial by Ordeal: Be Careful What You Ask For.

Thursday

In a rare turn of events, Daddy came to pick me up from the house this time around. She drove down on Thursday and stayed in my house in Orlando. As she arrived, Mommy had gone upstairs as she felt bad. One trip to the store, and Daddy surprising Mommy with this weird tea stuff and they we’re on the couch laughing and joking like nothing had ever happened.

Thursday night at slept, together, in Mommy’s house in Orlando. While we didn’t fuck, it was still amazing!!!

Friday

The ORIGINAL plan for Friday was for me to be restrained for the trip to Jax. I protested and asked what about needing to pee? Daddy’s response? You’re right, I’ll just have to diaper you. Don’t want any messes in my car.

I was aghast. The MOST I’d ever been immobile and unable to move was maybe an hour. This was daunting at best BUT I was determined to please Daddy and obey.

So on Friday we woke up and packed to get ready to leave. I was told to dress comfortably and to make sure that I wanted to stay in it for 3 hours (or more). I grabbed my best bra and loose tank, and my jeans.

I finished packing and feeding the puppies and went to load Daddy’s car.

Problem, as I got into the car Daddy said her eyes felt weird. Not wanting to die in a fire crash I made the executive decision to drive to breakfast and then, if Daddy felt better after, I would relinquish my driving privilege to her at the first rest stop we passed.

She agreed and off we went.

After breakfast, and right before we hit 95, Daddy needed to pee, ergo I was ordered to hit the nearest rest stop.

“When I come back we are switching so gear up.” She smirked.

I waited until she returned and was ordered to pull off to the side and park the car. I did as I was told and Daddy met me on the passenger side.

She reached into the back seat and retrieved the strait jacket from her pack.

“Arms in princess.”

I complied even though I was mortified by the fact that LITERALLY everyone could see us as plain as day.

Daddy finished the crotch strap and I climbed back into the passenger side of the call. I was belted in and the seat was laid back so I could rest and we were off.

Which is where it got interesting.

We pulled out of the rest stop and were on our way when Daddy looked in the rear view.

“Theres a cop behind me. Fucker is pulling me over!”

My heart stopped. Had someone seen us? Did someone assume I was getting abducted? What did they want? What was I going to say if they asked why I was tied up in the pasenger seat? Was this illegal?

I laid there stone still as the cop reprimanded Daddy in what I can only refer to as true dick cop fashion. Turns out that since she didnt slam on her brakes and cause an accident to move over while he and his buddy had pulled someone over; it was a problem that HAD to be dealt with.

He left the window and I asked Daddy to undo my arms. At least if I was mobile he couldnt have an issue if he saw me. She deftly moved to undo my arm strap and free me, to an extent as the jerk returned.

“Im only going to give you a warning just move over next time!” The dick with a badge admonished and then disappeared. He made a show of he and his partner speeding off convinced of their superiority.

Daddy laughed nervously and then smiled at me.

“Time to button you back up.” she giggled as she re-restrained me and we were off.

We arrived home and I was freed after we found that Gizmo and Tater had left Daddy presents in her absence.

We chilled out for a while and I began dinner (salmon as usual). During this time Daddy began to chop up and puree jalapenos. Her new theory on getting deep into my head was to use capsaicin to get me really stoned and then use her new found interest in hypnosis to crawl her way into my head.

We finished dinner and I was ordered to the bathroom and to strip. I knew what was coming and it was REALLY unsettling. I usually dont play when im intoxicated but this wasnt intoxication….it was technically forced subspace.

I knelt on the floor and waited for Daddy to plug me in and was rewarded soon with the rush of Hulk green liquid coming from the enema bag.

Problem

Capsaicin makes my intestines spasm and this stuff was 100% pure and it was EXTREMELY effective

I was so high i could look down at the International space station and it was causing my intestines to spasm….hard. I begged and pleaded for Daddy to allow me to release and she relented not wanting to have to clean her floor.

Just like the first time I was so high that it was hard to stay ON the toilet and I remember hearing Daddy cackle as I came to the realization that, this time, the Jalapenos burned upon their exit.

My ass was ablaze and I was having a hard time staying up right.

I finished up and collapsed on the floor.

“Come to bed sweetheart, I cant do anything with you like this.”

I crawled to the bed and finally lay down beside my love as she stroked her fingers up and down my body.

She calmly curved her arm up around my head and dug her fingers into her newly acquired access point through my third eye.

Time stopped

What happened next is a blur and she will have to fill in but I remember seeing numbers flash in the darkness only to be consumed by fire.

More showed up slower afterwards and were blown away like smoke. I remember feeling relaxed and hearing Daddys voice in my head like thunder but not much else.

We drifted off to sleep after we made love and I slept like a rock.

Sat:

Saturday was spent running errands and I was told that, in the evening I was to be made into Daddy’s doll.

Tits and cock sewn up so that I was sexless. An object for Daddy to admire and play with.

I cringed at the thought BUT I wanted to go through it. I had asked about it after all and Daddy was really excited.

We came home and I was ordered to strip and lay on the butterfly board. THIS time however, i was face down.

The cuffs went on and Daddy went to work on me.

Floggers, Paddles, and canes.

“Count down from 300 like last night, princess.”

Her voice changed and I could feel it more than hear it. It was soft but consuming me utterly.

The impact got harder. I was held fast by her trance and it was terrifying.

I kept telling myself; “Just open your eyes and fight back!” but my body refused to listen.

The impact got harder.

“Go to your cage princess I dont want to hear or see you until I call.”

I vanished into the darkness and the pain changed. It still hurt but I was at peace and calmer than ever.

After a while the pain stopped and I felt Daddy at my ear. From the darkness I heard.

“Im going to undo your restraints and you are to turn over.”

My body complied even though I wasnt piloting it. This was surreal.

I lay on my back and revelled in the blackness when HE showed up.

“You know whats coming? Shes going to have someone stitch you up you stupid little whore!

WAKE UP!

This is not what we were trained to do!”

I could hear the mounting panic in HIS voice but this time, as my heart rate rose, I grew calmer. HIS hold on me would slip and then return almost as if he was trying to shake me awake to no avail.

HE faded after some time when I heard the door open. People had arrived, Daddys freinds were here to make her doll a reality.

I could hear voices but not place who they were.

I felt cold as metal strapping was secured around me.

“I know this seems a bit much but TRUST me its warranted.” Daddy explained to her guests as I was literally bolted into place.

“Muse do you want to see who is here? Come back up and you can see who is here. You know who they are.”

I tried to open my eyes but the trance was too deep and I couldnt.

“Its ok baby, stay down. Dont come up till youre called.”

I felt my head being lifted and the muzzle being buckled onto my head.

I was efectively mute for the the foreseeable future.

I fell deeper into the black as Sir commanded and relaxed.

The next thing I remember is cold followed by a pain that I havent felt in literally decades.

Problem with me is that I heal fast….incredibly fast for a mortal apparently. So much so that Daddy has a hard time causing me to bleed when she wants to feed off of me.

I also have thick skin as I would later find out.

My tormenter pierced my right breast and the world exploded into fire.

I was brought out of space and immediately in dangerous territory as all I wanted was out and away. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to backup and gain ground to reassess and destroy my attacker.

Daddy saw who was coming and paused her instructor.

“Stay down baby, its ok.”

For the first time I spoke to Daddy

“No its not, I cant be muzzled for this.” I struggled to communicate through the leather holding me prisoner.

Suddenly I felt my core and my body growing cold. I was shivering and didnt know why.

I asked for a blanket thinking that the cold was causing my pain as the suture that had been completed wasnt painful.

My eyes were open but I didnt know the people who were present.

I panicked.

Had I forgotten people? I was sure I didnt know the two that were present.

Daddy explained that it was Brandy (Whom I had spoken to online) and her Daddy, Daddy James.

I warmed myself and the executive decision was made to change to staples after a failed attempt to suture my lower extremities.

I like staples (about as much as I can given I HATE needles) a LOT better than sutures as the pain combined with my thick hide cause me to panic.

I greeted my tormentors and made my usual jokes as Daddy retrieved the stapler.

I asked to be unrestrained for the rest of the ordeal as this goal had become more about pride than facing the pain. I was determined to do this to showcase my devotion to Daddy and being her slavegirl.

During this time I asked what time it was and was met with a time two hours later than I was aware of.

During the trance I was under I had managed to lose 3 hours.

It took a while but both tits and Daddys cock were finally hidden away behind pieces of steel. I was in an amazing symphony of pain but strangely I was loving every second of it.

I was given permission to stand when I asked for permission to cook for Daddy and her guests since I had taken so long to get my staples put in.

Problem was that we needed things from Publix and, by this point, I had learned that Brandy and I manage to supercharge each others brat and it was GLORIOUS!

I also found out that, by this point, that the pain was deep enough and constant enough to cause me aftershock orgasms.

This was anything but upsetting.

The decision was made for me to get dressed and go get the groceries needed for dinner. I didnt want to drive alone however as I didnt know what my reaction would be in a car, let alone in Publix.

Brandy helped me through Publix and talked to me about her rules with her Daddy as we drove back.

Upon returning and beginning to cook dinner I found that movement could now cause me to orgasm without warning and i couldnt control it.

This fact was amusing to Daddy as well as Daddy James and it was capitalized on FREQUENTLY.

I began cooking and laughed and joked with our new found friends in the kitchen. During this time I learned that I was able to trigger Brandy’s Daddy into his Dom mode by misbehaving and being bratty to him. At one point I was told that my actions would cause Brandy pain which only served to send me into high brat gear.

That was until MY Daddy stepped in to put a stop to it.

I finished dinner and became after dinner entertainment as I was ordered to sit on the floor.

Daddy pulled my yoga tights up and produced her Hitachi. She found that running it over the staples would cause me to build to orgasm.

I reached my apex and was made to beg for release in front of our company.

I.

Was.

Mortified.

Then begged like a wanton whore to be allowed to cum.

I was granted release and I exploded in front of Brandy and her Daddy.

Afetr the show was done it was time for Brandy and her Sir to go home. They lived far and it was near midnight.

We hugged and I went to hug Daddy James goodbye.

It was at this point I realized my folly when James pulled me in for a hug.

Hard.

Grinding his sternum into my stapled tits.

The pain was deliberate……and deserved……but really painful.

Daddy James laughed and they left to head home.

Daddy sent me to our room and followed shortly after.

She laid me out and marvelled at her work. Her doll had finally arrived and she wasnt going to waste a second taking full advantage.

She ran her tongue along the staples of my newly formed vagina and lowered herself between my legs.

Her tongue began to probe and tease me. I felt my cock begin to stiffen and realized that I had an orgasm building as Daddy was “eating me out” like the girl I always yearned to be.

I was in paradise and on my way to cumming

Daddy knew what she was doing and held me fast as her tongue moved in and out of my slit.

Just as soon as she started she stopped.

“Roll over and put your pussy in the air.”

Her voice came sternly and with the force of a freight train.

I was hesitant and received a slap for my reticence.

I rolled over and raised my hips and my hole was met with Daddys new favorite toy; her borrowed Fucksall.

She buried the rubber phallus deep in me and pulled the trigger.

I felt my cock harden and was terrified I would have to feel it pushing on my staples but the orgasm I was building to killed the fear just as quickly as it started.

I was exhausted but I needed Daddy fiercely.

I needed the staples out though which Daddy was all too happy to oblige.

I cant remember whose idea it was but I was tasked with taking out the staples which was a mindfuck all on its own.

Once done the camera was done away with and I needed Daddy. I kissed her deeply and began to play and toy with her.

At one point my fingers ended up in Daddy’s pussy and I was fingering her deeply as I kissed all over her and talked to her about our adventures.

The staples coupled with my fingers pounding her G-spot sent Daddy over the edge to the point she squirted all over the covers.

Much to my surprise and hers as well.

We cleaned ourselves up and climbed into bed. I cuddled her close feeling both peace and

pride in having gone through the ordeal to showcase my devotion to my owner and my love.

We both fell into a deep sleep

Sunday

We didnt play much on Sunday. Its become a ritual that Daddy takes a nap and I clean up and pack my gear before we leave. She takes me halfway home and meets up with Mommy. It helps her and me to ease out of the weekend and it helps Daddy because I dont disappear after an intense weekend.

Paradise is coming back and im hopeful for the future for once in a very long time.

Maybe one day the war will end. It feels good to have hope again.

The return

Ever since Daddy and I got back together I have been looking for cheaper ways to get to her. One of those ways has become AMTRAK as it’s dependable…ish and leaves Mommy with a vehicle to use whilst I am in dispose.

So on Friday afternoon I boarded the train that would take me to my inevitable destruction at the hands of my Daddy.

I texted her and was told I would be retrieved by someone but didn’t need to worry about whom. I was to follow their instructions without fail and they would deliver me to Daddy as she instructed.

Needless to say that I was worried and voiced as much. Daddy, in her usual way, reminded me that I am her property and it didn’t matter if I was worried because she had taken care of insuring my safe delivery to her.

All that was required of me was to obey.

I said; “Yes Daddy” with my usual sass and was rewarded with the knowledge that I would be paying for that as well as what I had said the day before.

The day prior Daddy told me that I was making my signature Sriracha Salmon for her and that she needed a list. I supplied it and she told me that she would retrieve the items and cook the rice to put on ice until my arrival.

Problem with that is; I’m not enough of an adult to let a snide comment slide by when I see an opportunity to be impish.

SOOO after she told me all that I replied;

“Good Girl”

That’s when the text chat went silent and I could FEEL the room get colder.

HUGE mistake.

I apologized as I thought I had managed to trip onto a landmine of Daddy’s but she moved the convo forward and I, mostly, forgot about it.

Pickup

The train was late, thank you AMTRAK, and I was getting nervous. Daddy is all about punctuality and, while the train isn’t my fault, it did mean I kept my ride waiting. I was nervous as Hell; depending on who was waiting I had the chance of catching a beating from two Dommes or worse.

I had my assumptions on who it was; either Bravo number 2 ( whom I had only spoken with through chat….and been a brat to) or Foxtrot.

Bravo 2 was an unknown but, from our conversations seemed mischievous enough to cause me pause.

Foxtrot was Daddy’s bestie and, to be honest, didn’t worry me as I assumed (as I would later discover was way beyond wrong) that she was somewhat passive. Energetic and fun but not the D-type.

The train pulled in and I stepped off walking right into my fate.

My delivery driver ( and Daddy’s co-conspirator) was Foxtrot.

I breathed a sigh of relief about the time that I realized how utterly fucked I was. Foxtrot is one of Daddy’s closest friends and, because of that, has the most leeway when it comes to dealing with Daddy’s property.

We hugged and I told her I was glad it was her as we left the crowded train station. We approached her car and I loaded my stuff into her trunk when she stopped me.

“Where is your muzzle?”

I hesitated and she repeated the question this time more stern.

“It’s in my pack why?”

She smiled.

“Daddy has strict orders that you are to be muzzled. Get in the car.”

I complied and sat in the passenger seat as Foxtrot drove out of view of the public. I donned my muzzle effectively silencing myself as ordered and waited for what was to come next. I had never been under another’s control at Daddy’s direction and I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I disobeyed.

Foxtrot produced my shackles, the ones that screw closed.

“Daddy’s orders are also that you be shackled. Be glad I’m nice and they aren’t behind you. I’m trying not to hurt your shoulder.”

She shackled me and we set off to Daddy’s house.

During the ride Foxtrot admonished me for being mouthy and disrespectful to Daddy online and that, were I her property, she wouldn’t put up with it. She also told me that she knew that Daddy loved me and that I loved her and she was happy to see Daddy happy with her girl back in her possession.

“Did you bring Daddy’s shirt?”

I raised my shackled hands in an “I don’t know” gesture and giggled.

“You better hope you did! You’re in a lot of trouble for that you know.”

I pulled out my phone and began texting her as I couldn’t talk.

“Who are you texting? Mommy? Daddy?”

I hit send and shook my head.

“The only people you get to communicate with are Mommy and Daddy. That’s it, no phone for you!” She admonished as she took it from my hands.

I sat back and breathed as easily as I could with leather and EVA cupping my face and began to do what I ALWAYS do. Fiddle with my restraints.

As we rode in pseudo-silence I began to poke and prod at my shackles. I had yet to best these and figured I may as well occupy myself with that task.

*SLAP!!!*

“I don’t think so Houdini. Hands palm down and don’t touch your shackles. I’m being nice by having you cuffed in front. I could have done them behind but I didn’t want to mess with your shoulder. Don’t make me stop and correct that.

I complied fearing the repercussions of disobedience from her let alone Daddy.

I sat the rest if the ride without incident and felt my heart beat faster as we approached Daddy’s driveway. I knew I was in for it but I didn’t know how bad. I honestly had stolen the shirt but that didn’t matter. I had made off with Daddy’s property, one of her favorites, and I was in for it.

Foxtrot and Daddy

As we pulled to a stop in the driveway, Foxtrot turned and began my instructions.

“You are to get out of the car and crawl to Daddy’s doorstep. You may not stand.”

I got out of the car and began to crawl which was a LOT more difficult than previously assumed. However, by the end of it, I was moving fairly well.

I crawled inside to find Daddy waiting in all her glory. She hadnt undressed from work and pointed to where she stood.

“Kneel. Here.”

She ran her fingers through my hair and grabbed a fistful just as I was relaxing. She yanked my head up and told me to look into her eyes.

“You screwed up princess, you have no friends here tonight. Its just me and Foxtrot. By the way, she isnt on your side so dont even think about misbehaving.”

She let me go and turned to look at Foxtrot.

“I like the crawling”

Foxtrot smiled and replied;

“Given the car ride over here and her escape attempt I figured she needed to enter your house more penetant than the ride over.”

Bella returned her gaze to me as I began to giggle at my escape attempt.

Bad idea

For my effort and insolence I was rewarded with a swift kick to my abdomen which caught me by complete surprise.

I hit the floor gasping for air through my nostrils as the muzzle held my jaw tightly.

Sir moved quickly and undid my muzzle and shackles.

“Get undressed and go make dinner. Dont fuck it up.”

I rose and began my task of cooking Salmon in Sriracha sauce, Daddys favorite.

I fed Foxtrot and Daddy with little to no screwups. Foxtrot was awesome and complimented my skill.

Then came time to pay the piper, I had stolen and not JUST stolen but from Daddy. Deliberate or no, that had to be answered.

I was moved to the artroom and quickly secured to the butterfly board so that Daddy could begin her evil designs.

“You asked earlier if you could help Foxtrot as she was having a rough time. Offered yourself up to be a punching bag if memory serves. WIsh granted. I have other things to work with you on. Foxtrot, she is yours for the evening.”

I saw a cruel smile creep across Foxtrots face as she walked to Daddys play case and began to retrieve toys.

In the interim, Daddy had begun screwing me to the butterfly board and making sure I couldnt get away. She attached my cuffs and then took position at my head.

Before all of this Daddy had managed to find a “Button” that would shut me off. I have two now that I know of; One on the back of my neck near my head and one where my third eye sits. Pushing either causes me to relax completely and to basically shut off. Not pass out, think like grabbing a cat by the scruff, they chill out; same thing.

Foxtrot went to work and, i will begrudgingly admit, that I didnt know she could hit as deliberately as she did. It was awesome.

What made it even worse was that during the whole process, I would get overwhelmed sensation-wise with the amount of pain that I was being made to suffer through so I began to fight back and struggle.

Which is where Daddy came in.

I felt her claws dig into my third eye and then I felt Hiss’ claws dig into my psyche.

“Go to your cage.”

Ive learned to love and hate that phrase. Daddy, before she began the whole hypnotism thing, had managed to build space in my head that she can “send” me too and my body will go still. Ive been trained, somewhat, to stay there until im called again which usually means she ramps up the painto see how much she can throw at me before I cant maintain in my cage anymore.

The second I went limp I felt Foxtrot brace her feet on my legs immobilizing them from movement.

Then she started hitting harder…..including my cock.

From my cage I could feel the pain getting worse and worse until finally I broke. The catharsis was intoxicating and my head began to reel. Waves of memory crashed over me like waves onto rocks in my mind.

I was uncuffed and sat back upright. Which is when it hit me. I could smell the sweat and plywood and suddenly I was back at 18 again. My body ached and my shoulder was damaged. I felt a wave of fear hit me as I knew I would be in it for getting hurt. Hurt fighters dont make money and that would cost me. I looked around and I wasnt in Daddys house anymore. I was sitting on the floor of that arena and trying to get up.

I dont remember what happened next until Daddy threw water on me to shock me awake. I was exhausted and terrified that I had “tapped out” too early.

“I can keep going, im ok. Youve only been working on me for five minutes!” I was terrified that I hadnt fulfilled my duty to help Foxtrot and that bothered me deeply.

“Baby, weve been at this for three hours.” Daddy held me as I tried desperately to come back to my senses.

They finished un bolting me and I stood shakily to my feet. I stumbled back to Daddys bedroom and collapsed in a heap on her bed.

I remember them talking and Sir saying;

“Shes useless on that end, lets go with plan B.”

I wondered at the statement and soon got my answer.

“Pixie, face down, pussy in the air.”

She ordered me matter-of-factly and I did my best to comply.

A few seconds later I felt her lube syringe enter me and leave its load, prepping me for what was to come.

I felt a familiar pressure at my entrance and relaxed into it. This one was new and strange though and I began to lift up when I heard the motor begin to hum.

What happened next is a blur and I remember losing myself in ecstacy for quite some time.

The sawzall Foxtrot had, was modified to fit a cock. Ive cut through steel with one of these machines and now it was reaming me with the same force. It was like a vibrator and fucking machine all rolled into one.

I thrashed and moan like a wonton whore as I was brought to orgasm, finally exploding and collapsing on the bed in exhaustion.

Foxtrot kissed my destroyed form and thanked me for being her punching bag for the evening and ran her fingers through my hair.

I heard her leave but I dont remember if I said thank you, i hope so…..Sir despises rudeness from her girl.

I fell into a deep sleep and snuggled Daddy until Saturday morning.

Saturday

One of my (many) kinks is to be an object for my owners; a thing for their specific desires. I usually ask what kind of clothing they like, hairstyle they want me to have, even down to my piercings and underwear. All of it, I want to be their desire (for instance: Mommy wants my tongue pierced with a slave ring as I have a tendency to talk too much. Daddy wants her cock pierced with a PA so that she can install a permanent chastity that is attached to my piercing.)

Mommys tastes tend toward more gothic/punk themes; Daddy’s not so much. Sir likes her pixie cute and fragile looking so that destroying her is all the more fun. She wants the picture of feminine and she loves “cute” lingerie. This is something I struggled with accomodating.

Slutty I can do, cutesy not so much. Thus I enlisted the help of my best friend ever Erin! We spent hours on Amazon and she spent a not-inconsiderable amount of time hassling Daddy for her opinions. Time which I paid for later, but I digress.

Daddy sat on the couch Saturday afternoon, we spent a large amount of time sleeping and then stopped by the Arts Market where I had my first ever Empanada (wasnt impressed but there is room to improve)

We had plans later that night to meet some friends of ours but we had time to kill beforehand. Daddy sat on the couch with Tater and I instructed her (yup i done told her!) to close her eyes as I had a surprise for her.

She complied and off I went.

Some time later I re-emerged from Daddys room and walked to face her as she sat with eyes closed.

“Open Daddy.”

I saw her eyes slowly open, get wider, then Hiss took over.

“Very nice.” She hissed as she took in the view before her.

I was wearing a short sleep dress, garter belt, adorable panties and 6 inch heels. My hair had been straightened and I smiled as she eyed her prize.

I leaned at the waist and came close to Sir’s ear. The energy was crackling from her and was almost tangible.

“Ruin me”

I whispered and stepped back with an impish smirk. I turned to walk to the bedroom and Hiss was quick to follow behind.

The door shut and I was instructed to lie face down on the bed with my ass in the air.

I slid onto the bed and raised my pussy for Daddy to ravage and waited patiently.

I felt her move and began hearing chains on either side of the bed. My plan involved her fucking me retarded but Hiss had other plans.

She was hungry and she was out for blood.

“Im assuming you like this so me cutting it off wont be happening?”

“Please no Daddy.”

“Pity. I have other ideas.”

She knelt on the bed and began to place mitts on my hands. I protested and was slapped for my effort.

Once Hiss was satisfied that her prey was secured she began to break out her toys.

“Daddy, this isnt what I had in mind!”

She instructed me to be silent and moved behind me. Thinking I was about to have Sir’s cock balls deep in me I shivered.

Daddy moved her hands to the lower hem of my dress and began to raise the fabric revealing her waiting prize. I was so ready to be taken I could taste it and I waited for my panties to start sliding.

I was mistaken in my assumption.

Daddy moved my panties up and out of her way and started in with her first tool.

She worked on me for a few minutes to warm me up switching from paddle to cane to slapper and back again.

As I screamed at the machinations she moved to her case and paused for a brief second.

Then it came.

I felt a thousand tiny stings begin to hit me as she ravaged my ass with a grill brush. The strikes continued but I held my position. The assault was relentless and I knew that I was bleeding but Daddy wasnt done.

I felt her tongue begin to lap up my blood and reach for another tool.

The next few moments are a blur but I tried to run which was when Sir decided her food no longer needed to move. I struggled to crawl away and Sir sat on my back and hips forcing my head into the bed.

“Go to your cage!”

I felt time and reality slip away as I was dragged into the darkness of my mind.

The pain increased and I swam back to the top into the world. I screamed and thrashed.

“Quiet and go to your cage! Dont come out until I say to. Daddy has work to do and I dont want to hear a peep out of you!

I was dragged back to the safety of the darkness. Any time I COULD resurface, my lips may as well have been welded shut as I couldnt make a sound.

Th eonslaught continued unti Daddys tools were a bloody mess and I was heaving and panting to catch my breath.

I passed out from the euphoria and Daddy freed me from my bonds. She held me as I cried and rocked me until I was fast asleep.

Upon waking I noticed it was evening. Daddy had me shower and do my hair as we had an engagement to attend with some friends of ours.

I got dressed sliding my panties up over my now hamburgered ass cheeks. The pain was amazing and very very deliberate

I did as instructed and put on the long black skirt and halter that Mommy had gifted me. I debated on wearing my leather pride flag but went with comfort instead. Which was fortunate as Daddy had a surprise she wanted on me as well; my brand new UPGRADED shock collar.

Aside: I modified a shock collar because the traditional one only has 2 points of contact to deliver a shock.

Great for a dog

Not useful on people. SO I modified it. Now the shock would deliver to all points on my neck (Not dangerous, not enough amps or volts so chill)

It was attached and off we went.

Daddy drove for once and didnt miss an opportunity to dig into my legs as she drove.

We arrived at the bootrack and walked toward the door. I was instructed to be on my best behavior and not to embarrass Daddy or there would be consequences.

I nodded and we headed to the door.

As I walked in I began to hear a scream and turned to see Miss Jae running toward me with her arms out headed for a hug. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me as she smiled and said it was amazing that I was there.

Ogre didnt scream but I did get a mammoth sized hug and lifted off the ground. We exchanged small talk for a sec and went to the bar to hang out.

The night was amazing……..then Daddy decided to give the remote to Miss Jae.

She wasted no time putting it to use. Thankfully, when she went to the restroom to test the range she messed up and pushed the wrong but that was corrected as soon as she returned. I was now firmly in Jae’s control.

In what I can describe as a moment of insanity I decided it’s be a good idea to relieve her of my remote.

Bad life choice

As quickly as I moved forward my hair was grabbed and ripped backward.

Even faster was the speed at which she availed herself of my septum ring.

She grasped the ring between her thumb and forefinger and held tight.

I froze considering that piece of steel is literally IN me .

“Kneel”

I shot a side glance at her but stayed motionless.

“Come on down, down, on your knees; there we go.” She chided with decision on the edge of her voice.

I rested on my knees until I was told to rise again, now FULLY aware of my place in this world again.

We bid farewell and hugged then began to make our way back home.

As we lay in bed that night Daddy got a spark of evil and decided it was time for her to test drive her new sounds.

I laid stone still as rod after rod found it’s purchase in Daddy’s cock and moaned like a wanting whore as my g-spot was probed over and over.

Then came the Hitachi. The evil thing.

She drove a sound deep into me and let it sit at the base of my cock.

Then the vibrator found a new home nestled astride of the shaft of the sound deep within me.

The pleasure was almost unbearable as wave after wave off orgasms came to me.

Finally in on pitious help I begged Daddy for release which she granted and I exploded all over the bed.

Consciousness was no longer an option after and I fell asleep with Daddy in my embrace.

Sunday

We have a rule that Sunday is Daddy’s day for rest and refilling her cup. After all, what use is a Goddess who gets no worship?

This Sunday, however, Daddy hadn’t had enough. Mainly because her prey, while delicious, was lacking. She hungered for the girl and was determined to get her back.

I wish I remembered more but the parts that aren’t blurry are him screaming that the girl was gone and never coming back at her during the throes of pain. Daddy, an expert tormentor, held her ground and told HIM that he could stay but needles would be his only comfort. This terrified the dark one and he ran; back to his home in the courtyard.

With his absence came a small girl from the darkness. Timid and scared but determined to rise. Like a match yearns to be a fire. The girl climbed to the light and up into the world to embrace her Daddy once again. Vowing never to run away ever again.

Love ya, mean it. Part 2

I drag 36 by her hair into the art room, where I have her cuffs waiting. I pull her into the center of the room under the apparatus she’d been strung up from so many times before; a simple design of chain and PVC pipe on a swivel. The cuffs are tossed to her and she obediently starts to put them on her wrists and ankles, avoiding my gaze as she closes them. Foxtrot positions herself on the antique couch nearby so she can observe in comfort. The wrist cuffs are actually mitts as the girl is an escape artist so I assist with putting the final mitt on.

“Stand” I instruct. She moves to stand squarely onto the mat I’d placed in the middle of the room. “Wrist.” She raises the wrist nearest me and I attach it to the chain closest to her, repeating the same action on her other side. I then slide a piece of PVC with chain run between it in between her ankles and attach the ankle cuffs with a solid click. I walk around her, taking the time to firmly pull on each connection; a weakness at this point could be problematic and I know she will be looking for one. Satisfied that there is no way for escape, I plant myself in front of her.

I lean very closely to her ear and say “When I told you that entering into this with me would change you, would make you question everything about yourself and who you are, I meant it. When I told that you’d find me like a heroin addiction, I was telling the truth. When I told you that once I’ve licked it, it’s mine…”

I stand in front of her and take her face between my hands. “Look at me.” I say softly. She hesitantly looks at me and I gaze deeply into her eyes, lingering for a moment before finishing the sentence with “And I meant it…”

I kiss her deeply, hungrily pulling her mouth to mine for the first time in months. I find myself getting caught up in the moment temporarily as my hand wanders across her chest to the pendant stapled there and I give it a sudden sharp tug. She pulls away with the air hissing between her teeth.

“But first, we have some unfinished business.”

I release the pendant and stand in front of her, reaching under my skirt to shimmy out of the black thong I’ve been wearing over my fishnets. “Open your mouth” She immediately complies, and I shove the thong inside her mouth and start securing it with my roll of duct tape which measures almost four inches across. “You’ve always been a noisy bitch, we don’t need the neighbors calling the cops.”

I walk up to her and nuzzle my nose into the nape of her neck. “How I’ve missed lying here nuzzled into this very spot while sleeping next to you at night. Standing here like this with you brings back such precious memories.” I softly kiss her neck, nibbling her gently as I work my way down. I reach my hands behind her and pull her tightly to me as I’m kissing and licking my way towards her nipple. I circle it with my tongue and then suck it deeply into my mouth as she arches her back, pushing herself closer to me. Suddenly I sink my teeth deeply into her nipple as I’m wrapping my hand around her throat; I hear her trying to gasp for air but she cannot get any between the panties shoved in her mouth and my right hand clamped tightly around her throat. My left hand wraps around her waist and I pull her body closer to me as she flails; I hold on tightly for a moment and close my eyes; savoring the moment I’d waited on for so long.

I release the hold on her nipple and throat simultaneously and she suddenly arches away from me. It’s been a long time since her body has been subjected to such abuse and it shows. I step back to grab the first implement of the evening, the cane she made for me.

“You have no idea how much I despise having to do this but until I’m convinced you’ve learned your lesson and you’ll never run away again we will not be leaving this room.”

The blows land everywhere; and all the while she is looking down and seeing that pendant that was supposed to be her anniversary gift bouncing off of her chest. One instrument after another is used until it feels as if there isn’t an unbruised piece of skin on her body. I know she is flying high as her eyes are no longer focusing and she can barely stand. I realize it has been over an hour and a half and I stop with the assault momentarily to come in front of her and wrap my arms around her, supporting her body with my own.

I hug her tightly and whisper “One day you’ll realize that there is no escaping me, sweet girl. I own you now.”

I release my grip on her and walk to the table behind her to pick up the brand new metal grill cleaning brush I’d purchased. The first heavy blow landed on her right cheek and blood immediately appeared; slowly starting to drip down her leg.

I come up behind her and hold her tightly, with my mouth closely positioned next to her ear. “If you weren’t such a disobedient girl I wouldn’t be forced to take such drastic measures, but since it takes so much to get your attention, get your attention I shall.”

The wire brush is wicked and unforgiving, and the blows are unrelenting. Within moments she is standing there with her ass covered in blood, with trails now running thickly down her legs. I stand up to search her face and see tears running down her cheeks as she cries silently through the gag.

I lean forward and catch her tears on my tongue, and then move to kneel on the floor behind her. My mouth finds its way to the thickest trail of blood and I find myself hungrily devouring all of it; savoring it’s coppery sweetness as I’m licking it off of her wounds. I stand up to face her, wiping her blood off of my chin as I do so.

“I have something new to introduce you to, but I’ll need a moment. Foxtrot and I take a few moments to reposition the sofa and I use the pulley system attached to the ceiling to lower the 4′ x 8′ platform to the floor.

I release 36 from her chains and allow her a moment to shake her arms and get the circulation going. I then lead her over to the platform and guide her down.

One of my favorite toys is a Bluetooth enabled plug that can be controlled via an app on my cell phone. I instruct her to relax as I grab a bottle of nearby lube and fill a syringe especially created to deliver this product with precision. I insert it deeply into her and press the plunger, filling her with lube. I then coat the plug with the same and slowly push it into her, making sure it’s firmly in place. I hand my phone to Foxtrot. She’s already been given instruction on how it works so no conversation is had other than warm laughter between friends.

I have purchased bird netting for this occasion. It is made from plastic and is extremely strong. I push her legs together and position her arms by her sides. “Don’t panic, you’re about to hear a very loud noise. Stay exactly where you are because it’s very dangerous if you move for the next few minutes.”

I roll the netting over her feet and turn my compressor on. From that position I slowly work my way up until her entire body is encased in this plastic netting with the staples positioned directly next to her body. She has absolutely no leverage. I stop at the base of her throat and cut the netting. I then take the duct tape off and remove the panties from her mouth. I grab her water bottle and let her drink in silence for a moment.

She’s exhausted from the previous activities and her body is marked everywhere from my efforts. I grab my nearby needle kit and smile darkly as I start cleaning her skin with iodine, her eyes growing wide as she clamps her eyes and mouth shut tightly and starts making whimpering noises of protest. “Hush, pet. It will be over before you know it. I’m sure you realize that fighting it will just make it so much worse, so you may as well lay there and enjoy the flight.” The next half hour or so consists of me penetrating her arms, breasts, and legs with my needles, making sure that their shafts are caught up in the netting as a constant reminder that fighting would be devastating. At this point she’s flying high and her eyes are rolled into the back of her head. I stand up and slip off my boots as I’m talking to her.

“Seeing you lying here has me so worked up. Let’s put that mouth to good use, whore.” I say as I’m slipping out of my fishnets and kneeling beside her. My face is very close to her and the endorphins have her unfocused. I slap her face, hard. She blinks a few times and I wait for her to focus on me as I’m holding her jaw and am practically nose to nose. I breathe deeply for a moment, taking in all of the lovely energy my prisoner is expending.

“Remember how I told you that I’d had a surprise for you for our anniversary?” She nods. “Well, since you fucked up your piercing appointment, it looks like I’m going to have to do it myself.” Suddenly she’s more alert as she realizes what I’m saying. “I’m going to straddle your face, and I’m going to use these lovely needles to pierce all the way up my favorite toy. While I’m doing this, you’re going to be eating my pussy expertly, like the obedient little slut you are. And I warn you that so help me if you bite me or cause me discomfort in any manner the needle will get shoved directly through the head of your cock. Got it?” The sheer terror on her face shot through me like a lightning bolt; and I felt myself instantly flood and start to ache with need. I carefully positioned myself on her waiting mouth and relaxed into our familiar pattern. As scared as she was, she was obviously not going to risk hurting me as she knew I would carry my threat through if she did.

I leaned forward and grabbed the thin skin on the underside of her cock, near the base. She kept up her task, trying to distract herself from the inevitable. I quickly shoved the needle through and was quite pleased that while she jolted slightly and gave it a gasp; she didn’t stop servicing my aching pussy. I repeated this same pattern until five needles neatly lined her shaft. I was proud of how well she handled it and rewarded her with a long overdue and very loud orgasm by grinding myself firmly on her face.

I carefully removed myself and kissed her deeply. “That mouth of yours is amazing…when it isn’t busy getting you into trouble.”

Repositioning beside her, I instruct her to lift her head and look at my handiwork. She visibly blanches when she sees all of the needles penetrating her body and groans as she lays back against the platform. “Any comments?” She shakes her head. I start to press on the needles, playfully. “Speak now or forever hold your peace, because I have something else I need to do.”

“I am your property, Ma’am. I am here for your amusement and will suffer as you wish me to.”

“Very good, 36. I’m glad to hear that. I’ll be taking these out for you now so you can relax for a moment.”

One by one I remove all of the needles, saving the ones lining her shaft for last. When the final needle is removed I take her deeply into my throat and work her to the edge of orgasm, over and over again until she’s begging for release. I signal Foxtrot and the plug starts to hum inside of her and in tandem we work on her repeatedly driving her to the edge without letting her go over.

For a moment I stop, and Foxtrot turns the plug off. I straddle her hips and slide down onto her swollen and battered cock and then lean forward to grab something from the floor behind her. It’s the modified gas mask she’d brought. Her eyes grow wide with terror and she starts rapidly shaking her head. I grab her face with one hand and she sees that I’m holding one of my thickest gauged needles in the other hand, and I’m smiling. Never a good sign.

“You can willingly let me put this on you, or I will start using these on you until you pass out and then I’ll put it on your unconscious body. Dealers choice. What shall it be?”

Tears are flowing freely now. She’s shaking but I can feel her inside me, harder than ever. She nods towards the mask.

“See? You are capable of making good decisions, that’s progress. I’m so proud of you! After all, I’m only going through this for your own good. Hopefully from now on you’ll think long and hard before doing something stupid again?”

She nods. Her nose is starting to run because she’s been crying so much.

I tell her I’m going to slip the mask over her head and shut the turn of valve, and I’m not going to open it until I’ve had my second orgasm of these night and she’d better not cum unless I give her permission. In my hand I now have my stun gun, an implement she knows all too well. I instruct her to look into my eyes the entire time.

The valve is shut and we’re looking directly at each other. I’m riding her and watching the glass fog up and she’s starting to panic. She can’t help but move her hips and the combination of it all is intoxicating to me. It’s been almost a minute and a half and I signal Foxtrot to turn the plug on and I feel the additional vibration pulsing through her cock. I’m staring into her eyes as my orgasm starts to build and then I’m flooding her with my juices; ripping the mask off of her as I do.

“Let it go, baby. Let it go. Cum for me, girl”

She screams and I feel her entire body start to violently shake against the netting. After what seems like a full sixty seconds she passes out completely and is lying quietly, totally unconscious.

I lay on top of her for a moment as my breathing returns to normal, and slowly climb off of her. Foxtrot has disappeared into another room and I quietly start cutting the netting and pulling it away from her battered body.

Foxtrot returns and brings a soft blanket and we position ourselves on either side of her, holding her as she slumbers. After a period of time her eyes start to flutter open and I tell her we need to go back to my room because there is something else that I need to do. With Foxtrot and myself on either side we are able to bring her back into my bathroom and carefully lower her into the waiting tub. Foxtrot kisses me goodbye and disappears for the evening.

I sit there kneeling by the tub, washing and talking to her as she slowly comes back to me. I’m careful to avoid pulling on the ribbon that is still stapled to her chest, securing the pendant that I’d bought her for our anniversary. I produce a new straight razor and slowly and carefully shave all of the body hair she’d let grow in in my absence. As she stands in my little bathroom I dry her body and when done I lead her to my bed, and thank her for suffering so beautifully for me. Although the weekend is far from over she shall be rewarded by sleeping beside me tonight.

My girl has come home.

Twisting and turning, Your feelings are burning…You’re breaking the girl Part 1

If you have been following along with my story, you are aware of the fact that muse and I parted ways shortly before Christmas. To say that the breakup devastated me would be an understatement, but it seemed futile to try to continue given the amount of stress, anxiety and helplessness we felt.

Long story short; after five weeks or so of almost complete silence, we’ve been speaking again. We’ve been communicating more clearly and directly than we had been in a while and have decided to try to carefully put things back together, with some guidelines put into place in the hopes of being able to protect all parties involved and nurture the relationship in a more positive way.

As has been stated before, muse is trans, 36 and a former fighter. She has alters that have appeared during play. She is a brilliant artist, an extremely heavy masochist with no real limits that have been found as of yet and she is a manic depressive. In other words, there are a lot of ingredients in this particular composition and her mind is rarely ever quiet. She is hungry for knowledge, activity, stimulation. Where the majority of us are able to unplug and relax and simply “be”, she is rarely afforded that opportunity.

In the past the thought of a Master/slave structured relationship was repulsive to her as she was taught never to bend a knee to anyone. However, in exploring this style with me and having the majority of decisions taken away from her when within my presence, for the first time in her life she actually found peace. Her head was quiet. She found the structure and atmosphere we’d created comforting and safe.

The whole idea confused and terrified her, and combined with everything else going on outside of the relationship between she and I things imploded in a magnificent way.

She’s stated she misses her chains, her tethers, her captivity closet, her cage. Not making decisions. She feels like one who ran away from her owner and was recaptured and knows she will pay sorely for the infraction when she comes home but she needs to do so to feel whole again. Without me in her life, she lost all balance and found herself spiraling. In all honesty; I felt the same. Things have been out of sort for quite some time and in order for peace to be restored and for us to move forward, balance must be restored. Which brings me to the topic of this blog entry: Homecoming.

For her arrival and initial discipline I have requested the presence of my long time best friend, AKA Foxtrot. Not that I don’t trust myself or muse but I haven’t seen her since Thanksgiving week, our beasts are both starving and the energy level is incredibly high, and muse has also stated that she has responded with rage whenever she has been hit recently. In addition to it just being a good idea to have someone who is not involved in the scenario to oversee and make sure things do not get out of hand, there is also something deliciously humiliating about having a loving witness who cares about both parties the way Foxtrot does.

In visualizing what the homecoming looks like to me, I see her arriving here and using her code to let herself in. She is not to be carrying anything in with her and has been instructed she is not to look at me or speak to myself or others without being instructed to do so.

I’ll be standing as she comes in the door, dressed in fetish gear. Black corset, very short flared leather skirt that barely covers my ass. Thong panties, fishnet stockings and high heeled platform boots. She will come to me and kneel at my feet as I will slowly and silently walk around her for a bit, with the only sounds she hears being the sounds of my heels on the tile and the blood rushing through her veins. I know my girl, her heart will be pounding loudly in her chest and her mouth will be bone dry as she awaits her fate.

“Stand.” She brings herself to her full height, careful to avoid my eyes. I’ll slip her shirt above her head and toss it aside. I’ll do the same with her bra and then slip her skirt down her long legs. I’ll brush my hand across the head of her erect cock as I slowly slide her panties down and kick the small pile out of the way. I already know that she’s neglected her grooming since we’ve been apart so her body hair has grown in. In spite of the fact we’re now communicating and she’s feeling better, I’ve instructed her to leave it be until she gets here so I can deal with it personally.

The homecoming has not happened. This is an illustration of how I expect it will play out.

“Not only do you run away, but you’ve been quite neglectful in maintaining my property I see. I shall deal with that later as there are more pressing matters at hand.”

She stands silently, head bowed.

“Currently you have lost everything, including your name. You are not my girlfriend, you are a prospect. You are starting from nothing, a ghost. In the past this was ‘our’ home. I have reclaimed it as my home. All of the pretty clothes hanging in the closet and tucked away in the drawers that were yours? They have been locked away. While in my home this weekend you will be naked the entire time, and tethered constantly as a reminder that you ran away. The heavy chain will be locked on your ankle and will remain there until it is time for you to leave. You will be on eye and speech restriction. You will not be allowed on my furniture. You will eat out of your dog bowl. If company comes over the same rules remain intact. You will not be using my shower, I will tether you to the whipping post I’ve just installed outside and I will hose you down with the water hose.

Your name is now 36. The number represents a time of new beginning, an opportunity to start anew. You shall refer to me as Boss, Ma’am or Warden. I do not want to hear Daddy, Darlin’, Babe or Bella come out of your mouth as we are no longer there. Consider yourself my captive and you are subject to whatever punishment I see fit; however harsh. Perhaps in time you can earn status, your name, privileges and your things back but for now this is how it is.”

All the time I’ve been softly speaking to her I’ve been slowly circling her. Watching her body tremble causes the rush of electricity in my own to surge that much stronger. The air is heavy with anticipation as Foxtrot sits and quietly observes the scene unfolding in front of her. I walk over to Foxtrot and hold out my hand and she gives me something I hold in front of me as I continue to speak with my back facing 36.

“We were just a few days short of our one year anniversary when you ran, girl. You were supposed to be spending that weekend with me and I had something very special planned for you. I was going to take you to see Syn so we could get you your next piercing, the PA we’d discussed. I had also picked up this pretty little sterling silver pendant to hang from it and was going to have the bezel engraved with “Daddy’s Girl” for you.” (One of her alters is a little and she calls me Daddy for those that don’t know.)

I walk over to her and hold it under her eyes so that she can see it. I have it on a delicate red ribbon and the weight feels comfortable in my hand.

“Perhaps you can earn this back but for now, it’s gone. I do want to make sure you have a lasting reminder of what you’ve lost though.”

She is still standing in position with her hands behind her back and I suddenly produce a medical stapler and staple the ribbon to her breast with no warning. She stumbles and cries out and earns a quick hard smack across the jaw for doing so. She shakes her head as she regains her footing and I see a flash of anger momentarily cross her face. As she won’t be allowed to look at me I’m going to make sure that she sees that particular memento bouncing within her view with each blow I land on her.

I grab her by the chin and tell her to look at me. For the first time since our parting she is looking directly into my hazel eyes and she sees not only amusement there; but an even darker, colder and more malicious hunger than she’s ever seen before. Hiss is fully present and her period of hibernation has come to an end. She is ravenous and won’t stop until she is satiated.

I let go of her chin and reach down between her legs, almost purring as I gently stroke her. For a moment she forgets that there is a serious ass whipping about to happen and she closes her eyes and focuses on my hand softly touching her.

“Look at me.” I instruct. Her eyes flash open. “You’ve heard my rules, and the current expectations. The choice now is yours. You can either gather up your things and walk out of this door and we sever this once and for all, or you take whatever is coming to you now and in the foreseeable future for us to get back on track. For this moment, you may say whatever you wish without any additional retribution.”

With no hesitation and that familiar cocky grin she looks at me and says “Do your worst, Cupcake…”

“And so I shall.” I quickly clamp down tightly on her balls, bringing her to her knees. I push her all the way down until her cheek is pushed into the tile and the sole of my boot is pushed down firmly across the back of her neck.

“You’ve chosen your fate, you’ll accept the consequences. The balance calls for your blood and tonight she will get her fill as it shall be.”

She is suddenly dragged roughly across the tile floor towards my art room and catches a glimpse of the new wooden platform that I’ve recently installed. Her eyes grow wide as she takes in the scene of the compressor and the roll of netting and then realizes that the eight foot by four foot wide piece combined with the other items will function as a spider web, basically rendering her completely immobile as I take my time doing whatever I wish to her.

The next few hours are a blur…

Interview with a Vampire OR How to simultaneously impress a sadist AND slam your dick in the door without even trying. (And not in the *fun* way.)

I’m not referring to the sparkly vampires of Hollywood lore but rather A short, curvy chick who feeds off of energy and fear, and gets off on the taste of blood. Things flowing organically is very important to me, as is energy and the type of vibe someone throws off. I share a lot about myself but also take a lot in when I’m considering a potential partner as the same source that fills me also has the ability to deplete me.

A couple of months before the breakup I’d joined a dating site in an attempt to possibly meet someone that could potentially become my primary partner. I was very clear about being in a relationship and there weren’t any serious prospects until after I became single.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, 6’5 came along.

He was tall, (hence the obvious nickname) handsome, communicated extremely well, successful, and my age. He lived within an hour of me and I quickly determined he had very little lifestyle experience outside of the bedroom. He was thoughtful, engaging, and asked good questions. We exchanged phone numbers one day on the way home from work and the conversation came easily. When I suggested that it would likely not be a good fit he asked me what some of the things I enjoyed were. I named several of the more extreme activities and his reaction to all was amazingly favorable. I was intrigued.

I like to do something with potential partners where I throw out words or phrases and ask for their immediate, uncensored response. I did this with him and mentioned “Queening Chair”. When he asked what that was I responded “Google is your friend.” For the benefit of those who do not know a Queening Chair is a piece of furniture designed specifically for oral sex. The Domme sits in the chair, her submissive lies underneath and services her as she reclines comfortably. Needless to say, he was enthusiastic once he realized what it was. The very next day he sent me a picture of one he’d started to build for me. (I was completely unaware that he had any intentions of doing this until he sent pictures.)

We continued to text and speak on the phone daily. I enjoyed the process of getting to know him, though he was getting increasingly anxious and a little pushy about meeting face to face even though we’d not been speaking for very long. He enjoys cooking so I invited him to come cook dinner for me a night later that week, to which he readily agreed.

Meanwhile, my group of close girlfriends were very vocally opposed to the fact that I’d invited a stranger into my house. They weren’t satisfied I had his real name, address and date of birth. They wanted me to meet him somewhere other than at my home. I placated them my telling them I would have him completely naked within 15 minutes and I’d send them a picture to prove he wasn’t armed if that would satisfy them. They agreed to that concession after giving me stern warnings about personal safety. I told 6’5 what was expected of him and he cheerfully agreed.

He showed up with a beautiful homemade dinner consisting of lasagna, sides and dessert, and had also brought a bottle of wine. I gave him a tour of my home and after chatting for a bit told him “It’s been thirteen minutes since you arrived, time to get naked.” “You were serious?” “I was indeed”. He dropped his clothing and sat down on the couch beside me. I told him to turn his head and snapped a quick picture, sending it to my group of girlfriends. “Thank you, you can put your clothes on. We have company joining us for dinner and she’ll be here any minute.”

Dinner was mostly uneventful with the banter being easy between the three of us but when my friend brought up the subject of her upcoming surgery which included a breast reduction; my guest suddenly became very vocal over the fact he felt she shouldn’t do it, even though she mentioned several times she was having the reduction done for health reasons and not just cosmetic. It was a pretty aggressive stance to take considering they’d never met and he was there to interview as my potential submissive. There was NOTHING submissive about the conversation, it sounded very much like a guy with a major boob fetish finding out that his favorite toy was about to be taken away. I sat back and observed the conversation and simply took mental notes.

She left shortly after dinner to give us time to get acquainted. I’d told him before arrival I’d be kicking him out at 10:30 as I had work the next day and would need to get prepared for it. At 10 I mentioned the time and he asked me for a kiss. I declined. I feel like the conversation should have ended at that point but suddenly I felt like I was caught up on a live version of Let’s Make a Deal.

“But, I made an effort. I drove all the way here. I brought dinner. I washed dishes…”

“You did indeed, and I appreciate all of that.”

“But…it means a lot to me…”

“And it will mean a lot to you when it actually happens, but it won’t be tonight.”

I had recently ended a relationship. I was still hurting, and trying to sort through some lingering feelings. I was flattered by his efforts but still on the fence about some things and needed some time to ponder on it without being confused by hormones. I’m at a point in my life where I’ve had my “reasons” and my “seasons”. I’m in search of my lifetime partner. I’m fully aware that I’m a special sunflower and to find someone that can check off all of the boxes could take some time, but I’ve got a pretty fantastic life and I’m willing to wait for the right one to come along. I’m worth the wait, and in the end I know they will be too.

Anyhow, so everything totally died Christmas Eve. We’d been having a really enthusiastic text conversation and out of nowhere he tells me I’m “The One”.

UMMMM…How can you be so sure about this when we haven’t even kissed?

He said he just knew. Sent me a list of attributes that he contributed to me and said when he saw something he wanted he went after it, and he wanted me. I sent him this chart and asked him where he was on it:

He said Joy – Freedom Love – Empowerment. He asked me where I was and I said Happiness – Enthusiasm. He asked if I was holding back. I honestly wasn’t. The conversations died off after that night. It had suddenly become awkward and I believe he knew he’d said too much.

Considering all of the lovely and horrible things I’m going to do to my partner once we’ve entered into a relationship; building a solid foundation in incredibly important and patience is going to be needed on both sides. There will be times my partner will be delirious, incoherent and completely at my mercy. Time will become distorted, and sense of self will likely be questioned. This is not a relationship I will enter into lightly, and the trust and chemistry must be there for us both.

Somewhere, you are out there.

The feed and caring of a Dominant

Recently the relationship that I’ve been in for the last year came to an end, and while I have many regrets; the experience itself is certainly not one of them. It gave me an opportunity to learn things about myself and evolve in a rather unexpected way and while the ending was and is incredibly painful and that pain lingers on, I know that I’m better in the end for the time I spent with her.

In no particular order of importance, some of the lessons learned were:

• 

• Sometimes you just have to eat that damn frog. For years I’ve said: Eat the frog first (basically get the tough stuff out of the way and get it over with) but haven’t necessarily put it into practice myself. Because of her I crossed some long overdue stuff off of the to do list. The bi annual medical maintenance yuck that I hate and had avoided but also I had my first colonoscopy which resulted in several polyps being removed, and was diagnosed with sleep apnea after being urged to have a sleep study. Too bad they couldn’t have done the sleep study and colonoscopy at the same time, that would have been an AWESOME time saver.
• After years of calling myself a cubicle worker who goofs around with making weird stuff in my spare time, after lots of nagging to embrace my creativity I finally feel comfortable calling myself an artist. I’m also steadily working on pieces these days and doing projects that are increasingly challenging.
• I thought I had a pretty solid handle on the kinks that I could handle and kinks that were definitely on my hard no list, but I discovered when I love someone that line definitely disappears.
• My inner Sadist is a lot colder, hungrier and more vicious than I ever realized. For years I’d always kept her tightly controlled and even then very few could keep up with me. When faced with someone who loves and trusts me I’ve discovered she will drain everything she can, with a ferocity that from what I’ve been told literally changes my face and entire demeanor when it takes over. To tap into this side of my personality has been both frightening and exhilarating.
• And finally, and most importantly I am incapable of being a secondary in any relationship. She is poly and married and I honestly thought not only could I handle the distance, but I thought I could handle being her girlfriend in a secondary role. The fact of the matter is, I loved her and because I loved her I placed myself in a position that in my heart I knew wouldn’t work on any long time basis. Perhaps if things had played out as they were initially presented with me being an equal partner and them moving to my city and time being spent equally it would have ended up differently; but that’s not how it evolved. I invest too much of myself and expect too much in return to be anyone’s girlfriend. When in a relationship I have no problem sharing someone physically (I’ve done this in the past to an extent as well) but to be basically an understudy in the lead role of my own life is something I’ll never do again. I’m not second string and to put myself in that position is a disservice to both myself and my partner.

A power exchange relationship takes a tremendous amount of work, and trust. A dear friend recently reminded me that “You cannot pour from an empty cup” and while in the shower last night it suddenly came together the main reason why this relationship imploded in such a magnificent way.

At most I would see her every other weekend, but over the year we were together it probably averaged out to be more like once a month. I put a lot of time and effort into preparing for her visits, I would make sure the house was clean, pick up her favorite foods, and in general make sure to be ready for any and all situations and needs whatever they were.

She would come in, we would generally have a very intense couple of days of being together and suddenly she was gone. The communication would drop back off and inevitably we’d end up fighting because of my frustration. While my sexual and sadistic needs were being temporarily satiated; my cup never had the chance to be refilled.

Yes, I demand a lot within a relationship, but I give everything I am as well. I love and play intensely, I feed deeply, and once the “play” is over I dedicate myself to making sure that my partner is as whole and as content as I am capable of. But as strong of a person as I am, I also need a partner who is capable of offering the same sort of dedication to me so that my own cup will continue to be refilled. Otherwise, this sort of relationship will never have any sort of longevity because it simply would not be sustainable on any sort of long term basis.

I’ve made a commitment to myself that no matter how many of the boxes are checked on a potential relationship unless they are all checked, I cannot move forward.

What I have to offer is unique and powerful, not to be squandered or taken for granted by either myself or the recipient. If I cannot find a partner that can come to me on an equal playing field ready and able to give as much as I am, then that will be all the more amazing that I can dedicate to myself and my wonderful tribe of friends.

Either way, I’m no longer worrying about what the Universe has in store for me, I’m just going to embrace all of the beautiful gifts she has to offer.

Erin I hope you’re happy! TO BE CONTINUED! Reposted with permission by Daughter of Kaos 11/06/18

A friend of mine said that brats exist as part of the balance in any Ds Community.  She said that “if we weren’t bratty, the how would our dominants know when we were being good?  It’s a community service really.”

I am no stranger to being a brat nor am I a stranger to running my mouth excessively.  Problem is I happen to be involved with two of the most evil people I have ever seen on this planet……and I don’t know how to stop myself.

Before I keep going on this epic cautionary tale Id like to say that id like to thank Jae and Clone as well as Erin for what happened to me.  Jae and Clone for supplying one of the most evil things ive ever seen and Erin for demanding recompense when I was mouthy.

That being said…..

FUCK.

THIS.

THING.

I’ll get to this more in a second but first im going to take you back to about a month ago.  Those were simpler times where a brat could mouth off freely with their only care being avoiding a paddle or cane.

I write a LOT on here and I tend to get long-winded. SO I try to make it easier on you the reader (and keep you coming back) by using “to be continued” on my posts.  problem is I have a tendency to leave you on edge till the following post is up. This has two purposes:

1. A) It keeps the blogs short and under 300 or so words so it isn’t laborious to read them.

1. B) Keeps you guys coming back.

There was some discontent issued from Mrs. Erin as well as a few others that I disregarded.  However, Erin and I have been friends for quite some time…..and I talk a LOT of shit to her.  I THOUGHT I was only accountable for the shit I said to OSHA or Bella. However, Bella AND Osha made me aware that I am owned by them and thus my behavior (or lack thereof) reflects directly on them and the control they have over me at any given time.

Problem is I am nowhere NEAR enough of an adult most of the time and I cant help myself.

SO I wrote a post AFTER I was explicitly told by Mrs. Erin to stop using to be continued as she hates them.  At the end of said post I put “To be continued” then I directly mouthed off at her saying I did it on purpose and I wasn’t scared of her or anyone else for that matter.

Bad Idea

The conversation went as follows;

Her: I hate that you break your stories up.  Just btw.

Me: Aww why.  Keeps bringing you back.

Her: Cuz they are an entertaining read and I am not one who likes to pause during a story.

Me: Well….just look at it as me begging you to return.

Her: Ugh

Me: You could always petition Daddy or OSHA to physically demonstrate your discontent should you wish.

BAD IDEA!

Her: Done.  Shall I ask in the little group message you started or just message Daddy myself?

Me: You can do it in the group or you can message Daddy on your own.  Ill be at Daddy’s place next weekend. Just be careful what you ask for *giggle*

Her: Message sent

Me: Fuck I didn’t think you were serious!  Lol.

Her: Daddy will have creative freedom

Me: Oh joy.

Her: Good luck

Me: DICK

Her: You love it.

Me: So do you!

Her: and you can write about your experience in ONE FUCKING STORY!! Like a normal person.

Me: I’m going to TBC that like 10 times.

Her: No bih, she completely agrees with me btw she’s going to handle it.

Me: Umm…..no she doesn’t.  Besides im not worried.

Her: Oh interesting. Thats been screenshot and sent to her.

Me: Ima kill you.

That was the shot that started all of this and I was made very aware of OSHA and Daddy’s displeasure at the fact that I had run my mouth YET AGAIN and made an ass out of myself…..and by proxy them.

The week went as it usually does with my students being themselves and me moseying through until Friday.  I made my way up to Jax and to Daddy’s home with my usual sense of dread at the weekend to come. I arrived and was not disappointed as she kissed me and ushered me to the bedroom.  I’ll skip all the mushy stuff, suffice to say I got laid better than hardwood floors and was pretty well convinced that Daddy had managed to forget about Erin and my little “mishap”.

Daddy stood up and motioned for me to follow here into the kitchen where, unbeknownst to me, she had attached my tether to the cabinet.  She told me she wanted dinner and needed to prep some stuff so I she wanted to make sure I didn’t go anywhere she didnt want me to.

I protested like I usually do and got slapped for mouthing off.  Daddy held up my chain and fed the lock through the last link. She grabbed my septum piercing and padlocked my tether onto it effectively securing me to the kitchen.

“I want salmon and Ginger rice and my kitchen better be spotless before I am served, got it?”

I said “Yes Daddy” and tried to be cute hoping I would avoid whatever “Plans” she had in store for me.

Dinner came and went and it was too late for both of us as we were both full and very tired.  We retired to the bedroom and passed out; her snuggled closely to me and me collared and tethered to her bed.

Saturday came and I was re-tethered to the kitchen to make pancakes.  I had started to relax figuring shed be far more interested in playing/fucking than anything else and thus id skate away scott free.

Dead wrong.

After breakfast and me cleaning up YET AGAIN Daddy disappeared and left me tethered to the kitchen for what seemed like forever.  She came back and unlocked me without saying a word then reached behind me and grabbed my ponytail and started to walk towards the hallway using it as a handle…..with me having to toddle backwards and, because she’s not tall enough to ride most carnival rides, I was constantly in a fight with gravity NOT to lose my balance.  Every fiber of me knew that falling would just mean that shed drag me to wherever she had planned for me to go.

She opened the door to my isolation cell and threw me up against the wall.  

“Sit”  she snarled.

I did as I was told and she cuffed me to the hard points on the floor.  All four limbs separate and I’m effectively stuck.

Daddy rose back up to her full height and stared at me like a hunter sizing its prey and slammed the cell door locking it with an audible “click”

I was cuffed, alone, in the dark for what felt like hours staring at the glow-in-the-dark paint that was written on the walls.  The problem with me and isolation (and BOTH Daddy and Osha are very well aware of this) is that my mind wanders and without any stimulus I get really bored which, for someone like me, is almost physically painful.

My solitude was interrupted by the deadbolt on the door being unlocked and light flooding into my eyes.  She quickly undid my cuffs and grabbed my ponytail again as her handle.

I was dragged down the hall half crawling and half sliding to Daddy’s bedroom and made to kneel.

She gave me a notebook and a sharpie then sat down on her makeup bench in front of me.

“Princess, you have embarrassed me and Osha and that is unacceptable so we are going to have a chat.”

I relaxed some more out of confusion than anything else.  She started to rattle off questions and have me write responses on the notebook then hold them up and have her take pictures to send to the people I had managed to piss off.  

It. Was. Humiliating.  I was effectively being “pet-shamed” for running my mouth.

Last she came to Erin and her complaint about what I had done.

I wrote out that I would take constructive criticism and consider it as opposed to ignoring it in the notebook and that’s when things began to take a turn.  

What came next was way worse as she produced this fucking thing and laid it in front of me.

I was told that I would have to kneel on this God forsaken thing for two minutes per infraction and I got an additional minute added to one round because I was being a brat.  After the kneeling session I was to sit flat on the mat for two minutes per infraction and she was going to sit in front of me and watch to make sure I did my time.

To be completely honest I looked at this mat and giggled (Internally im not a moron) because I understand weight distribution and I THOUGHT that this would be like laying on the whole bed of nails deal; it’d be uncomfortable but manageable.

I need to learn to stop thinking.

I opened the book to the first sign and moved to kneel on the spikes.

Yall I would rather have walked across a pile of LEGO’s than kneel another second on those thing because LEGOs would have hurt less.  Immediately as my knees hit the spikes searing pain went through my whole body. I could feel it in my ASS! This was insane and I was only a few seconds into THREE FUCKING MINUTES!

I tried shifting my weight to accommodate the point and hopefully make it less painful.

Wrong again

It sent yet another brilliant symphony of pain up my knees and legs and into my hair.

This was about the point that Daddy asked if I was enjoying myself.  She told me that Ms. Jae and Clone had suggested it due to it being an accupressure mat designed to contact points that do….something but at this point im convinced the “something” is cause you so much pain that you don’t think about your back anymore.

Finally the last seconds passed and I was granted a few seconds of rest before shifting to SITTING on this god damned thing for another three minutes.

AGAIN I ran to my physics classes and went; “My ass and legs are bigger area than this thing so more surface to handle the spikes.

Oh there was more surface alright.

I held up the next sign and sat back instantly cursing my physics professor for being such a monumental liar.

The pain shot up my spine and into my teeth and that’s not even the WORST part of the whole thing.  Oh no no, the worst part was that there is certain…..equipment in that region that happens to be EXTRA sensitive due to hormones etc.  

There were spikes digging their evil way into my damned gooch!  my huh uh, my fucking TAINT!

If you’ve never had pain in that particular region of your body then you should thank whatever deity you believe in because dear GODS.

Three minutes passed, thankfully, and we were onto the third infraction; Erin’s discontent.  I was on my knees again and somehow the pain was ten times worse. I don’t know who made this damned mat but I hope when they get to Hell, Satan welcomes them by shoving a pitch fork up their ass.

I knelt there on the bed of despair and Daddy began to talk to me and started to video this whole process.  She inquired if I understood what I had done wrong all the while having to call my attention back to her away from my poor knees and shins.

She asked if I was sorry yet to which I said “Kinda” and she sat back to continue to watch the show laughing the whole time.  

Time stretched out into an eternity as I was informed that Erin would get a full  description of all that had happened and I needed to understand that this particular punishment would be reserved for when I needed to be corrected in the future.  I was told I had better watch my mouth as the next go round the intervals would be five minutes and I nodded that I understood.

I was allowed to come off the mat and I curled into a fetal position with tears running down my face.  Daddy went to lay on the bed after she put the mat away and called me to her. In her hands she held my stuffed animal and she assured me it was ok.  I curled into her and lay there shaking for quite some time knowing that this wasnt the last time id see that damnable thing.

The plot thickens……Reposted w/permission by Daughter of Kaos 09/14/18

Daddy’s head whipped around and glared at me.

“What did you say?!

I recoiled but it was too late.  She looked at me incredulously as she turned and grabbed the bag of them.

She grabbed my chin and wrenched my face to her gaze.

“Youre here for entertainment purposes, ONLY! Do you understand?  Party favors dont get opinions and YOU dont ever get to tell me no.

With that she let me go and Tango had me kneel and sit up.  She attached clothespins to my nipples and then my inner thighs laughing all the way.

Then came Beta’s turn.

Beta is the quiet one…..which makes her dangerous……a fact that I was unaware of until she “Mounted the plate.” so to speak.  

Unbeknownst to me, however; Beta had purchased her own hardware for the job SPECIFICALLY to try and get me to cum.

She almost won.  This thing was made by Tantus and it does the job VERY WELL.

She mounted up and IMMEDIATELY I started building toward an amazing orgasm in SECONDS.  Im stubborn though so in the two or so seconds this thing was in me I didnt want to ruin Beta’s fun so I soldiered through it.

For about three minutes.

Then the clicker started without me feeling it.  I had saved my ass from Daddy’s tazer in round two.

Then Tango decided she wanted to dance.  However, apparently during my rodeo with Beta’s dick, Tango found Daddy’s Deadpool mask and put it on.

She also found Daddy’s electric dildo and I knew I was hosed.

Tango leveled herself at my face and, if im honest, I dont remember what she said but she was holding the cock like a gun and staring at me through Deadpools white eyes.

What happened next is probably best explained by Daddy BUT it ended with a Hitachi and my first double orgasm.  At that point I was released and went to lay on the couch with Daddy. I blacked out and next thing I remember is being in bed with Daddy and snuggling up with my binky.  I passed out and dreamt like I hadnt before.

And…here…we…go……Reposted w/permission by Daughter of Kaos 09/14/18

Foxtrot drew first round.  In my prison I could hear them laugh and make jokes and then I felt her hands on my hips.  She guided her cock home only problem was…..I was too high up for her to get to and, with my head trapped I couldnt move my hips the right way.  Other problem was that my hands and ankles were shackled to the box so I had no way of helping her get where she needed to go. So my head was freed and I moved so Foxtrot could gain her prize.  She rode me for a while and I could feel the dread start to build as I was being shoved closer and closer to climax. After what seemed like a few seconds (but was significantly longer than that.  Time dilates when im cuffed idk why.) I clicked the clicker.

A round of applause was given and Foxtrot thanked me for the experience.  I was panting and returned the gratitude as she kissed me on the forehead.

It was at this point that Tango started in and needed to know where her pig nose was.  Up until this point in my life, I had never known someone that identified as a pig. Tango fit the bill perfectly, every ounce of her energy SCREAMED ravenous and she was in rare form.  She asked Daddy where the clothespins were.

This is when the trouble began…..for me.  

Without thinking, I heard clothespins and wheeled to face Bella and thats when the world slowed down.  

“NO CLOTHESPINS!!!”

Then time stopped.

To be continued……

Three to make ready……Reposted w/permission by Daughter of Kaos 09/13/18

I was told to strip and present myself to the group.  I complied and walked toward the Art room.

The Chair

Im not going to lie, this thing is evil.

Daddy made the chair to play with forced orgasms and it works exceptionally.  Its holding a hitachi magic wand and, if youve ever used one or had one used on you then you know, they are very effective….insanely so.

I was told to sit and cuffed ankle and hand.  Daddy smiled evilly and looked back at her pack.  She looked back at me and hit the ON switch, then Hell really began.

It sent wave after wave of vibration into my, now seriously erect, cock.  I was immediately on the edge of cumming. Daddy smiled her evil smile and said; “Go ahead and cum…just understand that we arent going to stop.”  I held myself at bay but was beginning to sweat……and panic. I was worried I wouldnt be able to stop myself and have to endure hours of fucking POST-orgasm.  Not an ideal situation to be in…..but if im honest I was LOVING it!

After what felt like an eternity in the Devil’s Throne, Daddy let me up on very unsteady legs.  I was told to walk to her brand new piece of evil; the box.  I don’t remember where the idea came from but I think Daddy found it on one of our excursions in Tumblr.  It’s upholstered in red vinyl and painted black.  There is a hole near the front with a door that acts as a trap for your head.

I was told to kneel on top of the box, in front of what amounted to a pack of hungry wolves, and place my head in the hole.  I was handed a clicker (God how i hate THAT thing.) I was told that if I was in distress to click once and (this is why i hate that damned thing!) to click twice if I was about to cum.  I whimpered and knelt as it was latched shut and I was plunged into darkness.

What happened next was amazing, terrifying, enlightening…….and hilarious.

To be continued…………