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…

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.