A reminder of why vanilla has always been my favorite flavor.

In sitting here trying to start this blog, I had to laugh at the irony. Sixty-nine hours. My life has been completely turned around in sixty-nine hours.

It started with a swipe.

I’ve made it no secret that I’m on several kink sites, hoping to find the proverbial needle in a haystack. Someone who can love the woman, feed the sadist, grow with the partner, acquiesce to the Domme, and satisfy the whore inside of me. Someone confident and outgoing, independent and eclectic who savors life and values experiences more than objects. Someone as fluid as water who has the ability to adapt to an ever changing environment which can include a multitude of wildly ranging emotions and activities at any given time with absolutely no warning.

Planning scenes has never been big with me, I’m much more into taking advantage of situational opportunities and things happening organically. My mood can change from playful to ravenously dark without warning and I’ve been told repeatedly I’m searching for something that didn’t exist. There isn’t anyone that would be comfortable entering into a relationship such as that.

In December of this year I matched with a local-ish guy on Tinder. He was age appropriate, funny, had a quirky style I was attracted to and asked respectful questions. He was also obviously unfamiliar with the lifestyle and while I’m generally polite I don’t go out of my way to woo newbies simply because it typically doesn’t work out. Honestly, I thought he was a tourist. A cute one, but a tourist nonetheless.

Over the next several months though he and I would stumble into conversation periodically and he would check in to see how I was doing and casually inquire if I was still single. My multiple attempts at trying to meet someone had started to wear me down and I was honestly considering giving up and removing my ads from the various sites, at least for a while.

Then he sent me a friend request on Facebook and suddenly we were chatting again. This time it was different, he was very invested in trying to get me to go out with him but as of late I’d been particularly surly and anti-social and…well, there was that vanilla thing. But after chatting for some time and seeing how incredibly patient and easy to talk to he was, I threw out an offer. That night I was going to a play and he was working but he was welcome to pack an overnight bag and come over after work and stay the night. My thought was that we could hang out and chat for a while and he could sleep in one of the spare rooms and he could hang out with me the following day.

It ended up not working out because he had to work late and lives an hour away, but we ended up face-timing until 3AM anyway. He asked if he could come make me breakfast and immediately I responded that was my hang-out-in-crappy-clothes-with-unbrushed-hair-and-no-bra-on and work on art day. He seemed to think that sounded charming. I told him if he were to come over not to expect I’d be dressed up because he would be getting the full Sunday experience. He said that was fine. I told him if he showed up wearing anything other than slouchy pants or pajamas and a crappy t-shirt I’d send him packing. He asked me what time he should arrive.

Dammit.

The next morning when the knock came on my door I opened it to find a handsome face smiling at me, casually dressed just as I requested. In his hands he carried a wooden liquor box and handed it to me and I thanked him and told him I don’t drink. “I’m aware Madame, it’s not liquor. It’s chocolate” he stated as he slid the lid back to reveal the contents inside. Nicely played. He apparently paid attention to details.

We sat on the couch and spoke for hours about everything and nothing and I found myself imagining what it would be like to be wrapped in his arms and to kiss him deeply. It didn’t take long to discover the answer as he leaned in and I found myself melting into his embrace.

He stayed for three days, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, everything just feels amazingly right. He came to me without other encumbrances and with no agenda, he simply wanted to learn more about me and asked for the opportunity to do so.

So here it is a week later and I’m literally writing this as he’s sitting here talking with one of my sons who dropped in to visit. We’ve spent the entire weekend with my other son and his girlfriend and popped in to visit my parents and now he’s lost in conversation with the kid talking about music. He also received a surprise visit from a dear friend while I was still at work on Friday and we dropped by to visit some of my other close friends that evening at their home as well. Watching him navigate the weekend with my family and chosen family has been absolutely the most beautiful and heart warming experience.

I’m reminded of my love for vanilla with this whole situation because I’d honestly lost sight of the fact that we all start somewhere, and vanilla truly does have the flexibility to accommodate spicy, savory, and everything in between. My jaded heart almost overlooked this beautiful human being simply because he didn’t have a kink background and I was afraid he was simply interested in satisfying a vague curiosity, and now we are building this beautiful foundation based on common interests and building layer upon layer of the lifestyle onto it. He has come to me as a blank slate and asked me to share everything I am with him; even the darkest of areas that most refuse to acknowledge.

And every time I’ve laid a hand on this man, or buried my teeth in his skin, he has given me this lovely guttural growl and has leaned in and whispered “MORE”.

More indeed my love…

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….

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 and didn’t want to be so shallow that I rejected him due to this, so didn’t change plans even though I was a bit put off by the news. He also had hundreds of hours of vacation time saved up that he would cash out if he moved, so he would have been able to get implants after relocation.

The reality of it was that he vaped every chance he had, 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 and burped non-stop because of the GERD. Additionally not only did he have a full set of dentures but he 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. All of this coupled with the fact that I was constantly going behind him shutting doors and cabinets and he was hugely into cartoons and 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…

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…