Testing For Durability.

  Hi.  New guy here again.  It’s been almost 2 weeks that we’ve been together, practically every day.  My apartment, an hour away, is now secure and remotely monitored during this pandemic.  One week after Bella and I met I was (not unexpectedly) informed that I’d have a 2 month furlough from work.  Subsequently, I’ve been o̶r̶d̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ invited to self isolate at Casa Bella. I was hoping she’d ask. It’s the only good thing coming out of this self quarantine. Every day we’re together is a gift.  (Hey, I see that eyeroll. Just be happy for us, will ya?).

  So, if you live on planet Earth you’ve undoubtedly watched at least 1 episode of the 1966 version of the Batman TV show.  “Pow.  Bam. Ooof.  Zing”  Those comical sound effect balloons would pop up after a thrown punch connected with its target.  Those weren’t the noises I heard the second time I was given discipline for disobeying orders.  Now would be a good time to get that bowl of popcorn.

  So, after what can only be described as 3 days of “Oh, this is what happy feels like”  I returned to my home.  Before I left I was given VERY specific instructions to not masturbate.  “No cumming for you, mister! Not till you come back. Edge all you want, but no orgasms.”  Which was going to be 4 days away. No Problem!

Things didn’t go according to plan.

3 nights later we’re chatting away on the phone…

 “Did you masturbate?”

“Yes, yes I did.”

 “What did I tell you? Now you get punished for doing exactly what I told you not to do”.  

 Her tone was not loud, her cadence not flustered.  But fuck me if I didn’t hear that sleeping giant wake right up.  Uh oh…

  I didn’t realize there would be actual punishment, but I wasn’t against the idea, either.  I mean, it’s been so long since I’ve had actual physical discipline. I kinda liked the idea of a refresher course. 

 It’s not easy being naive.  Fun, endearing even, but not easy.  

  So, the plan was for me to arrive at her house (I was given my own passcode and her dog loves me by now) while she was at work and to wait patiently until she came home. Don’t say “Hello”, don’t kiss, don’t hug.  I’d be ushered into the bedroom where I would strip, bend over the bed with my forehead on the mattress and my ass in the air and receive a 5 stroke paddling. Count off after each time the paddle connects, don’t lift my head off the mattress because that would just add more strokes.  Afterwards we could be our loving selves but no aftercare until I was disciplined. I will freely admit I was a little turned on by the whole thought. 

I drive to her house, walk in, sit on the couch, cuddle with the dog and wait.  Nervously, excitedly. I’m in uncharted territory and I’ll worry about finding a cartographer later.  How will this feel?  How much pain can I take?  Do I actually want this? Oh, the door is unlocking!  She’s home! Let’s do this!  I stand up and I’m all sorts of excited. 

What, what’s happening here?  Who the fuck just walked in the door?

I shit you not, a striking brunette looking like something out of a 1950s detective novel walks in the door. Sunglasses, make up, dark dress, handbag, seductive hair.  What in the good godamn have I gotten myself into here?

Now it’s suddenly awkward and she’s staring at me and I smile nervously, rise from the couch and here we go.

 “Hi, I’m… Bella’s friend, just… waiting… cause she’ll be here soon…”  

I really don’t remember what was said exactly.  The moment was a little tense and I’m pretty sure I remained calm-ish.  She looked through me while smiling and said that I could be anyone, she didn’t know I’d be there and was not entirely cool with a stranger in the house.  I came back with “Whatever you need to do to confirm what I’m saying”. Brunette is increasingly freaked out and has her back pressed up against the door in a way that tells me the situation is becoming agitated and tense.  “I’m just gonna reach into my purse…” I thought for sure she was reaching for a gun and I’d have some explaining to do…

The body language changed on a dime and genuine laugh followed.   “I’m just fucking with you. Bella told me you’d be here and said I could give you the once over”.  The whole scene played out in about 20 seconds but it felt like 3 hours in a cold room. She’s a good friend of Bella’s and we had the “so tell me about yourself” type conversation non stop till she came home.  I was subtly applauded for handling the situation with grace after the fact. 10 minutes later Bella walks in and I rise to greet her but maintain a polite distance. Brunette and Bella compared notes about me for a few minutes enthusiastically (I’m in the room here, ladies!). 

Goodbyes were said and now I’m in the bedroom in position one.  I’m reminded of why I’m there, what’s about to happen and why this won’t happen again.  Because it’s my first infraction I have the luxury of being disciplined with a lucite paddle.  Thin, lightweight, not really intimidating. “Oh, this will be fun” I think. Fun. That first sting across my naked ass was a genuine knock at the door of what lies ahead.  It hurt, it was loud, it was a little humiliating, it was definitely deserved. I knew exactly what I did while I was doing it and this is what happens when I don’t listen. I thought it would be a lot worse and it was made clear Bella went easy on me.  “Thank you, it won’t happen again.”

It happened again.  

  My introduction to paddling was apparently a gateway drug.  A Red Brand Trailer to a movie I’ve been wanting to see. A few days later we kicked things up a notch.  I was introduced to a few friends. The nerf bat, the crop, the…whatever that thing is called and the fucking wooden paddle.  What happened in that brief, fun, playful and enlightening session isn’t important. What is important is that my eyes are slowly beginning to open as intended.

  Now, the charge for the crime is up for debate.  Fun fact: I’m 𝗉̶𝗎̶𝗌̶𝗁̶𝗂̶𝗇̶𝗀̶ 𝟧̶𝟢̶ a 200 year old sasquatch and the tops of my ears have enough hair growth to warrant regular shaving.  Nobody wants to see hair on your ears, right? I’m no savage, you have standards, please pass the razor. Bella suggested I leave them alone and she’d wax them.  I enthusiastically agreed. And then, somewhat absent mindedly, I shaved them a few days later out of habit. And a clear lack of understanding of how waxing works.  Major no no. “I told you not to shave them. You didn’t listen. Now you get the wooden paddle and it’s 10 strokes, not 5”  

I really didn’t feel this was fair, and over the next 26 hours that feeling of injustice evolved into something I didn’t see coming.  

“Pow.  Bam. Ooof.  Zing.”

   Bella and I had our usual morning cuddle fest the following morning after the morning alarm went off.  As she dressed for work she reminded me in a deliberate, measured voice that we’ll be addressing my disobedience.  The text she sent 2 hours later was matter of fact; she’ll come home after work and go straight to the shower. I’ll be waiting naked, forehead on mattress, arms outstretched, feet on floor this time.  Wooden paddle.  “Wooden paddle? Wooden paddle hurt!.  Wooden paddle not fun pain, only pain pain.  Me no like this” said my inner sad caveman that doesn’t understand the modern world.

  “Just wait till your father gets home” was something I hated hearing as a boy and something I really didn’t like thinking about as a man.  I made it this far avoiding drama and bullshit because I don’t like feeling negative emotion and because I don’t make mistakes that impact anyone.  Yet here I was, my brain bathing in the chemicals it produces when you have a major conflict on the horizon. I kept myself busy the whole day doing the type of things you do on a day off and you’re tired of looking at things that need tending to.  All the busy work couldn’t stop me from thinking about my fate.  I didn’t like it.  I really did not like this feeling of impending doom or helplessness.   Of inevitable discomfort. Of basically fucking up and now having to face consequences I didn’t think I deserved.  “This is fucking bullshit.  Sigh…Let’s just see how it goes.  Get it over with. Maybe my feelings will change one way or the other.  I signed up for this and I trust her. It’s a lesson on many levels. Fuck, this is gonna suck”.  I felt like a rodent frantically trying to escape a self closing trap. “This is what panic feels like.”

I didn’t get the usual phone call from Bella on her way home from work.  This was done on purpose. More reflection. More anticipation. More panic and woe.  And she didn’t have to lift a finger. Clever girl.

I couldn’t look her in the eyes when she walked in the door, a first.  Pleasantries were barely exchanged, the opposite of our normal. Things were feeling worse by the second.  “I really don’t like this”  Shower started, I stripped and assumed position one.  The wooden paddle already on the bed. 2” thick, compact size, nicely stained.  Clearly not a toy (but potentially a nice charcuterie board, I thought Plenty of room for meats AND cheeses.  “Fuck, I forgot to eat today…oh well”).

“Pow.  Bam. Ooof.  Zing. Ouch. OUCH.  FUCK!! (inteligible scream)

I had to remind myself that this is actually what I wanted, what I signed up for.  I shouldn’t be surprised. This will hurt, and then her aftercare would bring me back to earth.  “Let’s do this!  Who knows, it might awaken something I like?”

That thought lasted all of 1 second.  Relentless, unforgiving wood connecting with one already bruised ass cheek (bruised from a kinder, more playful session a few days earlier) and now I’m mad.  “Mad? Why am I mad?  What’s happening here?”  The second through 10th strike produced a pain I’m wholly unfamiliar with and my screams counting off  those remaining numbers had a voice so filled with rage I’m surprised I didn’t lose consciousness. I haven’t felt like that since…wait…have I ever felt like that?  No.  I haven’t, and now I’m shaking from pain and rage and the feeling of helplessness. “I don’t like this…Do I understand this?  Negative reinforcement. Oh. I get it now…we’re training.”

  As expected, Bella came up lovingly and began to press her body against mine.  Arms still outstretched and face still firmly buried deep in the mattress I sharply say I’m not ready.  For once I don’t want to be touched. 10 seconds. 20 seconds. I’m coming back to Earth. 30 seconds. I open my eyes, all anger has dissipated.  Huh.  What the hell was that?  Did I like it? I think i liked it.  Not the pain, the lesson as a whole.  I shifted closer to her and let out a sigh“That really hurt.  I was so angry. I haven’t seen that guy before and I don’t like him.”  Bella reminded me that this wasn’t play and she didn’t like it either. Her soft strokes over my head trailing down to the sore spots.  The room is quiet. We’re back to normal. Lesson actually learned this time. 

 “What would you like to drink with dinner, my love?” 

Vanilla Extraction

Hi. I’m the new guy. Go easy on me. For now.

Showing your special someone that you appreciate them takes many forms. For some, it’s a material expression, for others it could be inspired words spoken in tender moments with hushed tones. Yesterday, Bella asked me to orally retrieve a creampie and then kiss her because she wanted to taste me. Which was a first. For me, anyway.

Doing things out of your comfort zone should be a national pastime.

I’m fairly certain that if you’re reading this it’s because the storyline just took an interesting turn and after the years of her entries delighting your, your….is that…a bowl of popcorn? Did you just go into popcorn mode?

Fine. I’ll tell you some stuff.

We matched on….(deep sigh cause I’m pushing fucking 50 here)…Tinder. Her profile listed her job as “Keeping you on your toes”. She had a very clear and concise bio:

“In the process of updating, definitely not vanilla and FYI, I am not submissive nor am I poly. If you are seeking someone who is fun, artistic, laid back and down to earth but who also has a sensual primal side, perhaps we would be a good match. If you have questions please feel free to ask. I can assure you I am quite sane, and seeking my happily ever after with my partner who is in search of a FLR. Single, local nonsmokers only please.”

Was she designed on a computerfor me? This sounds too good to be true! I’m a bit of a kook, certainly not vanilla, right? Right?

I found out within 24 hours I was most assuredly vanilla. Which, apparently, is working in my favor. But more about that at a later date.

In the early stages of our correspondence Bella instructed me to read the blogs and ask any questions. Like she was inside a large booth surrounded by pamphlets and maps and tasked with giving information to perpetually lost tourists. Cute, potentially dangerous AND patient? Sign me up!

Fast forward through a few months of non concurrent conversations held exclusively through texting or messaging. Two adults aggressively, yet comically flirting without being weird about it (or perhaps being VERY weird about it, touching on pegging, pain, needles, teeth, more pain and the going rate for pro dommes, all of which were new topics for me). I left enough of a good impression to get invited over (see Bellas previous entry for details).

I believe it’s called “eye fucking”. When you’re talking to someone you are CLEARLY interested in but can’t do anything other than maintain composure and smile at each other invitingly. We weren’t quite eye fucking, but we weren’t strangers after about an hour of chatting either. She’s attractive in her pictures, infinitely more so in person. Her voice is the type of thing that lures willing sailors to their rocky demise. I became OK with the idea flying close to an unknown sun within an hour of conversation on her couch.

Neither one of us are desperate, horny, emotionally crippled or chemically imbalanced. We are definitely into each other, it seems. And there’s a tv in the bedroom? Oh, we should watch “Don’t F*** With Cats”. We should probably get this pesky kiss out of the way. We should make out for a bit. Maybe a bit longer.

(insert sound of remote control landing on the floor next to the bed)

Y’know when you have that perfect physical rhythm with someone you’ve been with for at least a few months? You’ve finally kinda figured out what makes you both turned on? That was us from the word go. It’s nice to find someone sexually forward and not weird about it that you can be emotionally invested with. But I may be getting ahead of myself.

She had brought up the concept of male squirting in a previous conversation. Similar to female ejaculation and kinda specialized. I joked about doing some research for science. Bellas hand found my now ridiculously hard cock and and began working my head in a rapid rhythmic movement. (No snake chamer jokes, please)

And then she grabbed the bedside pump bottle of lube. Which I’d only seen in stores. I mean, who uses that much lube? In a speed dispenser? Thats…that’s actually appropriate. I did read the blogs…this makes sense. Don’t overthink it.

My shorts now completely off, and her hand now REALLY means business and we are looking into each other’s eyes like a pair of super villains about to go to work on a Friday. Her very wet fingers working only my head. The build up was long and deliberate, my body absolutely preparing itself for a slow, massive inbound orgasam that I knew was going to put me on the fucking roof.

I came very hard. Bella made me soak myself, the pillow next to my head, the neighbors car and I just recieved a bill for damages from the ISS. Sorry, fellow astronauts.

The rest of the day was supposed to have been two adults getting to know each other in a polite fashion. Instead we barely made it out of bed, I was shown a glimpse of the days ahead and I stayed the night. It felt new and normal at the same time.

My Vanilla is slowly being extracted.

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.