Happy Holidays.

I hope that Santa cums by your house tonight and leaves you everything you hope for.  

Truly Heart Broken

Today marks a year since the passing of my Mom... I don't think this kind of pain every heals...  It feels like bits of my soul that fall from my lashes, having run out of tears so long ago...  I lost so much more than my best friend, family member, and loved one.  I lost myself to the sea of grief.  

Duality Desired

I'm a nice girl.  I have a good sense of humor and work hard.  I am very submissive and possess a slave's heart...  I am very attracted to Gentlemen.  I'm not saying that I want to be treated like I am made of glass or super fragile... But I do want to be treated like a lady in public.  I understand being treated a certain way at a play party or with like minded friends, but... in public... I want to be treated like a person.  

No matter where I am, I will always belong to the One that owns me.  I will follow Him as deep as He wishes to take me, but its important to me that things appear 'normal' in public.  Yes I will be His slave, yes I will be His whore, yes I will be His property... but I also need to be His lady in public.  

Please know that this means I will behave as a lady in public.  I am respectful and well mannered.  I will not embarrass Him by correcting Him in public, rubbing His nose into anything (figuratively), or  by airing dirty laundry to anyone who will listen.

The full truth is that being treated with respect in public makes me feel safe.  It makes me feel like He will take care of me, I don't mean financially or sexually - but it makes me feel protected.  Plus there is something about being lead through a crowd by His hand in mine or directed by His hand at my back.  And my heart melts whenever He places an order for me... 

Until recently, I never realized this was a taboo part of power exchange.  Why are men so ashamed to treat their women like a lady?  Shouldn't that go hand in hand with her belonging to Him?  Sometimes I worry that society is moving away from manners, etiquette  and class... then other times I think that the internet has eliminated the need for such things.  It seems when someone can hide online, what doesn't work for one person, who knows her worth and doesn't put up with that immature pouting crap, will probably work on the next girl who doesn't know any better... and that is so very sad.

Thank you humbly for listening to my rambling... I try not to rant but this is a very important topic to me... and I don't understand why I am often called 'spoiled, selfish, unslavelike' by this desire to be treated as His - in every way.

Claiming her

you can grab her hair and mark her neck…

you can thrust into the soft yielding sweetness of her…

you can entwine with her in one sweaty tangled heap….

but the only way you will truly claim her 

is when you have invaded her every thought.

- Shared by beautflstranger, on tumblr

A Joke

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Self Injurious Memories

We all have a device that is bad for us.  That addiction we turn to that offers an odd sense of comfort when in fact it is only hurting us...  

For some of us, that dangerous habit is a person... 

A dangerous text, destructive thoughts, detrimental kiss, heartbeats of that toxic dream that whispers during the night, returning the forbidden to our reality.  

Sad News

This morning, while I was at the hospital, PapaSmurf called to tell me that His nudette had passed away during the night.  Its been almost ten hours and I'm still in shock.  I just talked to her, and... my heart breaks for PapaSmurf and their children.   

Moment of Silence

I have no words, only prayers for the families affected by this tragedy.  

Peek a boo! I see me!

I know how this feels, every time I meet someone that I really like and have to reveal about my condition. Or I meet a vanilla guy that I like and I want to share parts of my kinky side with him.  Normally talking about these things will make me a nervous wreck, but this video clip makes me laugh!  I have definitely played out my share of conversations in my head - although I'm not as creative (in their responses) as Dexter.

I'm not sure if it is the product of my experiences or a certain level of maturity I am reaching... but I'm not so worried with revealing 'my secret' as I used to be.  Either the person will accept me or not, and then that's that.  It doesn't mean that I can't accept myself just because he can't deal.  I don't want to be subject to the whim of those I meet anymore, it doesn't change who I am or what I have to offer.  

I'm far from perfect, but there are a lot more people out there who are much more messed up than I am.  And for today, that's enough for me.

Becoming His

You will know pain. 


You will know pleasure. 


You will scream, moan and whimper. You may cry. You will surrender total control. You will be stripped bare; emotionally, mentally and physically. You will be free and you will fall to pieces. And in these arms, you will find safety. I will guide you, push you and break you. 


Then I will hold you as you tremble, and gather every single piece.

The desire to claim you, in every way. The gift you give freely as you lay your body at my altar. I accept it, embrace it and honor it. With every strike, every bite, every rough thrust of my hips. When sheathed within your slick walls that tightens around me and pull me in deeper. Just as you reach your precipice my hands instinctively wrap around your throat. Because I am not tender, I am not sweet, I am not a man who will bow to you. I am the one who hungers for you on a primitive level and the beast within me accepts your precious gift. Using you to my pleasure yet needing more. I tighten my grip on your throat as I gaze into your eyes… because I need to be the very air you breathe.

Both are by Feral Deviant on tumblr

Do Bad Things

When you came in the air went out. 

And every shadow filled up with doubt. 

I don't know who you think you are, 

But before the night is through, 

I wanna do bad things with you.

- Sung by Jace Everett

I have had this song in my head for almost a week!  I know that it is the theme for True Blood, but when I'm hearing it in my head it isn't about the show...  


I think if my hormones/fantasies had an official theme song, this would be it.  This has to be the sexiest songs out right now...  Especially in this summer heat... 

That Moment

This is the moment it hits you, when you become completely mine. When your only focus is my pleasure. When your only point of reference is skin. When your only duty is sensation. 


This is the moment when your second sight shows you how beautiful you become in my hands.

- Shared by Quantum Satis. 

What you want

What you want 

by RefinedMaster  

You and I want the stillness and quiet mind that comes when you give up. I want the pleasure that comes when you please. you want me to know it is no "gift" you give. you are doing what you need to. It is no "gift". you want easy silence. And we want easy laughter. you want the loss of control. you want to go past or over or beyond what you imagine the edge to be. you want to feel safe with someone taking you there. you want to trust that someone will bring you back. you want to learn. you want to be pushed. you want to be challenged. you want to be wanted. 


you want the freedom that comes with complete surrender and submission. you want your submission and surrender to be absolutely genuine and real. you want to respect me. I will make you nervous. Few do. you want to be played with. you want to be used. you want to be bound. you want to give what I want. Or I want you to take it if that's what you want. you want to be completely uninhibited and you want to feel what that's like. you want to be accepted after that. you want that small smile to cross your lips the next day when you think of what happened the night before. 


you want that heat that comes from your passion and surrender and my passion and control. you want to be devoured and ripped apart. And seen. And then you want to want to stay. And you want to stay looking at the person who did it. Then you might want pancakes. you want the chemistry. 


you want the real deal. 


And you want the truth.

Thank you Sir for allowing me to share your journal entry.

It Never Fails

So I met a guy and he seems cool.


We begin to talk more in depth and he appears interesting. 


We begin to exchange kinks and he is into some pretty extreme stuff, which of course tends to make my pulse quicken.  We spend a lot of time talking, texting, camming, etc - discussing everything from movies to kink to food to work... 


And then it happens. 


I find out he is involved with someone else.  Even though, in his words, he is "somewhat unhappily involved with a manipulative controlling demanding" wife. 


Yet it becomes my fault that I am "not understanding" of his "situation".  He claims I should be "slavelike" and "accept him as he is".  Well that's all find and dandy but I didn't sign up for a lying cheater who is too pussy whipped to stand up to his wife for "what he wants".  

Insecurities

The major insecurities are always physical. It’s your stomach, your feet, your legs, your nose, your cheeks. There’s always something about yourself you don’t like, and that starts flashing red the instant you get ambushed by a mirror. It’s all you can see, and it doesn’t matter how good the rest looks, it’s the coherent portrait in the middle of a Pollock painting. It’s a banana viscously inserted into a beautiful Turner storm. 

Of course there are mental facets that you’re not a fan of, but they’re the ones that you con yourself into thinking you can hide from public consumption, bury under general effusiveness, bad jokes and a winning smile. You can’t get rid of this nose, even if you did want to just spite the face, because frankly a noseless face wouldn’t exactly be preferable. Doesn’t mean you haven’t thought about it.  

But you’re being ridiculous. No, really, you are.  

Everyone has insecurities, because that’s the way society works. It tears down the things you think make you strong, and leaves you exposed with your weaknesses, to be laughed at. The worst part is that you help them; you pull apart your strengths just as much as they do, and then feel all the more worried about the things that someone once said something about that was maybe not the most flattering. 

Fuck ‘em. 

You’re beautiful. You’ve obsessed over that one tiny blemish for so long you’ve lost sight of things. You don’t realise that it’s because of that tiny blemish that your face works, or your body looks as lovely as it does. You don’t realise that your habit of making stupid jokes at the wrong times is the reason that someone is going to love you some day. Just let go of it all. Take a moment, think about it for a second, and then let go.

The greatest thing D/s has ever done is put you on a fast track to self acceptance. I can tear you down for things that you aren’t, while emphasising the beauty that you are. I call you a slut and then kiss that nose, I turn your arse a lurid shade of red and then dress you up to show of your stomach, and call you the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen because of it. I obsess over you in the way you obsess over your flaws, and frankly my dear, my obsession is just a little more powerful than yours.
And as for my insecurities? You blow them all away the instant you call me a beautiful name and do exactly what I say. Because why on earth would a creature as beautiful as you ever do something I say, unless I’m worthy of it? 

You make me worthy. And I make you beautiful. It’s all rather lovely.

 by My Trousers Rolled

He was her sun, she was His flower.

The transformation was unbelievable! If he had not have been the one to see it first hand, he isn’t sure he would have believed that this confident passionate fiery woman was the same awkward shy creature He discovered at the library months ago. His collar marking her as His and His alone… the supple leather not only warmed against her neck but flamed a spark inside of her. She became sex, the way she moved, the way she smiled, the way she obeyed His every command… sensual and passionate, he didn’t think it could get any better…. And then they prepared for their first party… The click of his leash about her collar ignited a confidence within her that could rival that of a beautiful rose. Those strengths in her, were Him.. improvements He made… like a sun nurturing a flower, she blossomed with His mastery. -elana-

Changing Addictions

She smiled to herself as she thought back to their first date. He told her that she would stop smoking within a year, and she laughed. But here she was, five weeks without a cigarette. As her tongue flicked over the soft tip of his cock, she revealed in the brilliance of His plan… allowing her complete access to His body whenever a craving hit, idle hands and empty mouth allowed to distract her mind from the absence of nicotine… creating another kind of craving within her. This need He welcomed, this ache he could meet, and suddenly… the act that always made her want a cigarette now was her reward for not smoking… And in the end, it brought them closer… for what man wouldn’t want a woman who hungered his cock the way she once wanted a smoke? ~elana~

...hopeful...

hopeful,

elana

Two Years.

So much has happened over the last two years... my world has been changed forever in many ways...   Things will never be the same.  

Vulnerability

Reading this literally brought tears to my eyes tonight... This man is able to put feelings into words that I can't even... identify for myself... let along share them with anyone else... He truly has a gift and I am very thankful He allows me to share His words here.  Even though it happens time after time, I am in shock how closely his thoughts mirror my own. 

I must confess, this one... truly speaks to my heart and soul tonight... 

Vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s about showing me the most private pieces of yourself, and that doesn’t make you weak. You’re still as strong as you’ve ever been. To me, you’re stronger.  

You protect yourself; you have to. There are people out there in the big bad world who would leap at the chance to tear you down, throw your face in the mud and make you breathe it. Who would make your life a nightmare, if they were given half the chance. So you hide your vulnerable parts away, like any sensible person would, along with your insecurities, your neurosis, and your little shames.  

But you lose something, when you do that. You spend so much effort locking these things away, these things you want to have out there, because they make you you, and it’s exhausting. You’re exhausted. You’ve been hiding these things away for so long, that you aren’t even sure that you know how to find them again. You just hope you marked the spot with a twenty foot X.  

 It’s ok. I've got a treasure map. I can find them for you, bring them out, and let you take your guard down, dissemble all those walls and just enjoy the open air for a moment. I’ll watch the door, make sure no one else comes in and sees them, I promise. It’ll just be me, me and your vulnerabilities. Your idiosyncrasies, your insecurities, and your little shames. I love your little shames.  

That’s what I’m here for, after all. To make you at ease, to make you comfortable enough to bring those things bubbling back to the surface, because they’ve been submerged for so very, very long. I’m your moat, your drawbridge, your castle walls. I keep the worst out, so you can get rid of all the bullshit that you have to use to protect yourself. That’s me. That’s what I’m for.

-By My Trousers Rolled, on tumblr.

Lost

Sometimes little girls get sad, lost and lonely. Sometimes they feel abandoned, and become prey to the demons in their heads. Sometimes they are wrapped up in fear and self doubt, they stop making sense to themselves, they lose their sense of purpose. They forget that they are exactly where they need to be right now.


Sometimes they need someone to remind them who they really are, what’s really important about them, that they are capable of so much more than they feel right in that moment. Someone to cut through all of the crap, who will shout down the demons, who will destroy the damaging fantasies. Someone who knows how to strip them bare - utterly bare - and reveal that what they are at heart is simple, pure, and in every way perfect. To show them that their mind may be full of stupid thoughts, but that they are not their thoughts. That their emotions may be full of sadness and pain, but they are not their emotions. That what they really are… that thing, that energy, is irresistible, beautiful, creative and deserving of infinite love and acceptance. 


We all are… Stripped bare of the foolish stories of the mind, we know we are so much. It’s just that some days we forget.. and get lost… and no longer know who we really are.

-Author Unknown

I don't know who wrote this, but... it decribes exactly what I'm going through - what I have been going through lately... I know that I am struggling with abandonment issues - especially since Mom passed... I just don't know how to bring myself back.  

Look at Me

These moments are always the hardest for me... Not the bondage, or the exposure of flesh, but the moment where He tells me to look at Him... The command to meet His gaze. 


When I am connected with someone, eye contact is hard for me. But in this setting, my features completely unguarded and vulnerabilities presented before Him like a wanton display. 


But He would know that about me. He would know that the slow caress of the cold cuffs over each wrist, the sound of them securing my ankles - He would know those things make my heart race, my breath catch, and the neediest dirtiest sluttiest thoughts fill my mind... Telling me - at that moment - at that desperately whoreishly completely exposed to my sickest fantasies moment - to meet His gaze... 


It's almost too much... Yet... when He feeds on that part of me... It's not enough, because in that second that I meet His gaze - I can't help but offer everything up to His appetite.

See what I see

 

I need you to do something for us today, pet.   

Start in the morning when you see that girl in the mirror. I want you to think about her then, and all day. I know what you see when you see her, but let’s not talk about that—let’s talk about why I see. Let me lend you my eyes for just a minute… try to see her as I see her. Don’t worry about whether I am right or wrong… start today by trying to see a little bit of what I see. 

I see a girl who is gorgeous. What I see physically—her eyes, her lips, her breasts, her figure—are not what we are talking about. Yes, your is beauty is beyond the power of my words to capture it, but your Master sees beyond those things—I see your heart. We need to talk today about things you can’t see in that mirror. 

I see a girl who is strong. She has been hurt. She has made some mistakes, and has the scars to show for it. I see a girl whose trust in herself has been destroyed, who has been, at times, almost ground down to nothing. But you were not ground down to nothing… you did endure. You are far stronger than you realize. You must see that you are not your mistakes. I am in awe of the strength inside that girl in the mirror.   

I also see a girl with a bright future and infinite potential stretching before her, if she is just brave enough to reach for it. You must trust yourself and your potential. I can lift you a little higher at times… support you and carry you a little ways… but you must do the work. You must be fearless and brave, pet. Dare to dream a wonderful future, and we will work toward it together. 

I see a girl I want so much it scares me. I know you are terrified I will wake up one day and be done with you; whether tired, frustrated or bored, but those are the demons of your fears and insecurities whispering lies in your ear. I will love you more every day. 

I know that girl in the mirror scares you, and I know you don’t quite trust my vision. Give me time. Give me your trust. in time, you will come to know her and see what I see. Trust your Master. 

There is a reason you are mine. I love you, my sweet, sweet pet.   

-Shared by Her-Master, on tumblr. 

Normally I don't relate with the mushy stuff, but this post/caption touched me.  Like many others, I struggle with the version of myself that I see... how lucky His girl is to have a Master that is teaching her to see herself through His eyes - instead of the past remarks of those who have been cruel to her.  

You Inspire Me

You inspire me. Your tenacity, and your strength, are inspiring things. To go from where I take you, with my words and my hands, with the whips and the ropes, and rebuild yourself, and put on your everyday clothes and your everyday smile, to slip back into the persona and enjoy yourself as an everyday person, after that. 

It’s astonishing, really. It doesn’t seem like something that should be possible, to go from that sobbing, begging, beautifully broken thing into the well composed, well adjusted person that I see when others are around. To hide the bruises, both the ones on your body and the ones on your mind, under pretty, loose, pleasant clothes, and just go about your day. 

 The most amazing thing is how you do it with me, how you can go from what you were into what you are, and just be with me as a woman and a friend, despite what I turn you into when we slip into the bedroom, especially after I turn you into what I do. After all that begging, and pleading, and whimpers and moans, after the climax after climax. The spankings, the bindings, the whispered words. 

I love that I get to see both sides of you like that. And I love both sides of you, because of that. 

 - Shared by My Trousers Rolled, on tumblr.

I love this perspective... I hope to find this one day...

Stroking the flame

Dominant’s have strange, twisted minds, full of knots and winds, dead ends and false exits. 

They’re complicated mazes, full of redundancies and paths that don’t lead anywhere you want them to.  

But they have a core, if you can find it. It’s a tough old thing, covered in dents and rivets, but it’s still good. It still works. And once you’ve got it spluttering into life, it’ll start to burn. And it’ll start to get pretty hot.  

It’s the kind of core that, once lit, isn’t about to go out in a hurry. It’s not going to fizzle and burn out, or just fall away into embers. It’s just going to get hotter, so long as you give it enough fuel.  

And that heat? That’s going to burn and burn, until it’s almost uncomfortably hot. It’s going to consume you, or at least feel like it could at any second. It’s going to make you want to shift away, but you’ve been so cold for so damn long that you don’t want to, because you’ve got no idea when you’re going to get heat like this again.  

You’ve no idea if you can even get warm like this, ever again.  

And so you stay, and you get toasty. And so what if the edges of your cardigan start to smoke a little bit, because you feel like you’re being washed in light, bathed in heat. You feel like you’re being filled entirely up, and it makes that journey, through that maze, so entirely worth it.
Because while you were winding your way through all those paths, the maze was winding its way through you. Each little choice of left or right, forward or back, was letting it know a little more about you. And it’s one of those new fangled living mazes, the kind that can change its paths as you go, create new ways for you to try, for you to fall into. As you navigates its walls, it was navigating you, mapping and charting and filing away all the little tidbits.  

That’s why you’re here, getting a little burnt, a little toasty. Why you’re bathing in this warmth, and why I’m writing this increasingly soppy metaphor. Because you’ve managed to find the core and get it started.  

And God help you if you ever want to put it out. 

- Shared by My Trousers Rolled, on tumblr.

I think it is the dream of (almost) every submissive woman to meet a Man who burns like thousand forges to master her… who can match the ache to yield to Him completely in absolute surrender… Each desire feeding the other, an explosive circle of emotional/mental chemistry… 


-dreamy sigh- 

Cock Worship

As I’m lost between your lips, I want you to lose yourself. With each inch that you take, I want a little more of you to slip away, a little more of everything else, everything around us, to fade and disappear. As you engulf me, I want that sensation, that slow filling of you, to engulf all else. 


 Think of it like hypnosis, where each little increment, every slight piece that grows and builds, makes all else fall away to make room. I want you to fall into a trance, with only the one thing on your mind. 


Forget about me. Forget about you. Forget about us. 


 Forget about the laundry in the hamper, that prick and work who keeps ogling you when he walks past, and how you really don’t know why Lana Del Ray is such a big thing. 


Forget about whether that crumpet you had this afternoon was a contravention of your diet plan, or if I’m wondering whether it’s maybe been a day too many since you last shaved your legs. 


 Empty. 


 Your. 


 Mind. 


 And think about what’s between your lips. Obsess over it. Savour it. Let it take over your mind as you take it over with your mouth. Study it. Examine it with your tongue, with your lips, and, if you’re feeling particularly brave, with your teeth. Trace your hands around the base like an palaeontologist uncovering a bone. Delicate and thorough. 


 Make it your life’s work, and don’t allow anything else into your life. At least for the moments between when you take me into your mouth, and when you finally release me. In those moments, it’s just you and me. That very specific, very hard, very swollen and throbbing part of me. 


 Worship.

- Brilliantly written by My Trousers Rolled, on tumblr.

On Longing

On Longing.


Torture takes many forms. I have said this often, and it is true across many kinds of torment, both physically and mentally, in a BDSM bond. 


 Sadly, the worst torture comes when a Dominant and submissive must be apart. And this torture extends to both sides of the D/s coin. 


 When a submissive longs for her Dominant, she will lapse into memories and try to regain that special combination of peace, contentment, and bliss she feels when she is with her Sir. She remembers his face, his eyes, his hands, and the way he holds her. This invariably brings her to an intimate memory where she is kneeling at his feet, content, and waiting for the opportunity to please him in any way he desires. 


 Ironically, when a Dominant longs for his girl, he runs the same movies in his head. He remembers her beautiful face, her smile, and the lines and curves of her body. He remembers the way she feels in his arms, and the way she sings to him. He almost always ends up with an intimate memory of her at his feet or curled up against him, her body still quivering in aftershocks. 


 Longing is a torment of the worst kind. But after longing comes reuniting. Big smile.

- Thoughtfully written by Fringe of Darkness, on tumblr.

Dom Drop - an exert

In the moment, after hours of slowly breaking you down, Dominance can become ever so slightly weary. There’s such a thing as ‘Dom Drop’, although to just throw a phrase at it and hope that it sticks, that it can neatly be categorised and filed away is somewhat misleading. 


It’s something that is driven by guilt, I think. The guilt that you’re doing negative things to someone you love, and yet they’re deriving enjoyment from that. It’s driven by self doubt, and the worry that maybe, regardless of how good this all feels, maybe this is the wrong thing. It doesn’t matter how rational or well thought out your arguments to the contrary are, in that moment you’ve just got the burden of it all bearing down on you. Like I said, it’s a little wearying. 


But in the downtime, in the moments where the Dominance isn’t quite so at the forefront, when you’re asleep and entirely vulnerable, but more important entirely trusting of me, in my care, under my protection, that counters it all. That’s the argument against, right there, the reserves that I can pool, that form a great big light that shines away all that guilt and self doubt, that bolsters and invigorates. 


 It’s in the downtime that I know, without the shadow of a doubt, that what I’m doing is right, and strong, and beautiful. It’s not when I’m laying a hand on you, leaving you with marks, both mental and physical, as satisfying and arousing as those things are. It’s when I know that you’re so completely fulfilled, so absolutely happy and content, and safe, that you can be comfortable being owned, being mine, that it all comes crashing in. It’s what gets me out the other side of Dom Drop, that catch all phrase that really doesn’t catch all that much.

Thoughtfully captured by My Trousers Rolled, on tumblr. 

Wobble

This song has me dancing today!  



The sun is shining and its been a good week so far, with music that inspires me to smile its turning out to be a great day.

V.I.C. singing Wobble. 

Falling down the rabbit hole

I haven't been myself since November, which is understandable, but I'm not pulling out of it.  Maybe it is a good sign that I seem to be coming more self aware to what is going on, what I'm feeling, and beginning to look for a way out of this hole?  I've looked for a while at a way to describe this ... empty distance and this morning, this scene came to mind.  

-untitled-

"It's the heart afraid of breaking 

that never learns to dance. 

It is the dream afraid of waking 

that never takes the chance. 

 It is the one who won't be taken 

 who cannot seem to give. 

 And the soul afraid of dying 

 that never learns to live."
-Author Unknown

2012

Happy New Year!