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I leave this profile blank, as I am a blank canvas, a fresh lump of clay, a novel to be written.
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My 24th birthday has come and gone. Good lord, could I really be in my mid twenties already? Where does the time go?
K had promised to give it to me any way I wanted him to on my birthday, but ultimately I decided that I would rather have great vanilla sex than kinky sex with someone who wasn't genuinely into it. Besides, I didn't feel like drawing him a map. But, I did ask for my obligatory birthday spankings. And the good news is he didn't stop at 24 spankings. Oh no, he went above and beyond the call of duty. He was paddling my pink behind while whispering what a bad little girl I was in my ear. Very unlike him. Could it be that this little lady has awoken the closet perv in an otherwise very vanilla man? Damn, I'm good. |
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Well, K went back to Europe for a week and a half and will be comming back tomorrow. I am shaking with sex withdrawls!
By now, K and I have become comfortable enough in our dominant/submissive roles that I'm free to joke around about it. On the day K left, I was in a rather fiesty and playful mood, and wasn't exactly the cookie cutter submissive I could have been. Okay, okay, maybe I was a little bratty. But then he walked up to me slowly and held me tightly by the waist.
"You know..." he said in a disarmingly soft voice. "Where I am from, when the man tells a woman to do something, she obeys."
"Well God bless the USA!" I giggled.
I hope he knows I wouldn't make that rediculous statement if it weren't a joke.
And then it was off to the airport. As we were on our way to the car, he stops.
"Okay, since you are such an independant and liberated american woman, you can carry my luggage."
"Sure!" I beam at the chance. We crossed just one street with my poor little arm being ripped from its socket before I changed my tune and set his things down.
"Okay fine. Maybe your way is better."
"Thats right, baby"
The gloating look of victory was written all over his face.
But even though we have the perfect pervy relationship, the control doesn't extend to the bedroom. I am stuck with vanilla sex without even a rainbow sprinkle in sight. He knows what I am into, and though he seems a put off by my more extreme fantasies, he doesn't seem squeamish about a spanking here and a good hard bite on the neck there. He just hasn't carried any of them out. :(
My birthday is comming at the end of the month, and on my special day K has agreed to do anything I want him to do in the bedroom. I'm still planning it all out. The only problem is that for his birthday I promised to give up my booty virginity. But its a long time until may, and lets hope he forgets by then! |
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Summer is here now in full swing, just like my newest summer fling. Its turning out to be a wonderfully hot summer (thank you global warming!) and my fledgling romance with K is just as hot. I met him just over a month ago, on the solstice. It was supposed to be easy, something to occupy my time until I figured out what it was that I wanted. The problem is, it never works out that way. I fell for him almost instantly. At least I figured out what it was that I wanted.
We spent our first date on the beach eating oysters. I sat with my fists tucked under my chin and hearts in my eyes while listening to anecdotes of his pet turtle he had as a child and how devestated he was when it ran away. He was my polar opposite, in the best way possible, of course. And wonderfully complex, I knew I could never figure him out, only do my best to decipher where one layer ended and the next began. Whats more, he is a foreigner, so all my culturally biased dating rules went out the window.
On our second date, he made a revelation. He was telling me about a friend of his whose wife had left him and stuck him with kids that weren't even his just so she could have some freedom in life.
"And he was willing to do it" said K. "He still wants her back. It's sick."
"I don't know" I said. "She's obviously the one with the control in the relationship. Some men like that sort of dynamic."
"Yes, some men do. But I am not one of those men. I am the one in control here."
"Is that so?" *raises eyebrow*
"mmm-hmmm" *smug smile*
"And I don't even get a say in this?"
"No. This isn't a democracy. It's a dictatorship."
And just like that, it was established. No dramatic confessions. No long uncomfortable therapy session in a pressure cooker.
He has been only subtly dominating. Such as ordering my food for me when we are eating out. And this is enough... for now. Because the feeling is always there. We both know our places. Sex is the same way... viceral and primal... and very satisfying... but not necessarily kinky.
I thought I would take him to a kink friendly sex toy store that I hadn't been to in years. After perusing the aisles of butt plugs and leather chaps we left.
"I'm sorry" I said. This place used to be much more S&M and much less gay."
"S&M? What is that?"
In that brief silence you could hear my bubble bursting.
"If you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you" I said sheepishly.
But I did tell him, albeit in the most P.R. friendly Dr. Ruth way I could, but he got the message. And then he gave me that look that is impossible to define.
I only have one worry. K seems to me to be the type that wants what he can't have. And he already has me more than he knows. |
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When you're in a sex only relationship with someone you start to have feelings for, it's like falling into an manic depressive state. When it's good... and it always is when youre together... the world is an unblemished window of of opportunity with a streak-free shine. When he playfully tugs on your earlobes while teasing you about your upcomming birthday and how old you're getting (yep, the big 2-4), and the way he holds your face in his hands and kisses both sides of your cheeks when you're saying goodbye, you know he's gotta care.
But when you're apart you feel a panic and a numbness at the same time. I think this is how a heart attack must feel.
I think sometimes BDSM exacerbates the good and bad in people. When someone is genuine then its one of the most natural and healthiest states one could hope to acheive. But when it's a lie or when it's based on something else then the results can be disasterous. So what is you become involved with someone you only vaguely know? I guess it's an obligatory question, I've often told myself I need to take more risks.
I'm left with the old chicken and egg conundrum. What comes first, love or sex? I can see it either way. It may be true that men lose respect for women if they sleep together too soon. For someone as complex as I suspect B is, I can see how he may enjoy a challenge. For someone as attractive as B is, I could see how he may be tired of girls throwing themselves at him. And I can certainly see how the thrill of the chase is appealing. In my eighth grade public school sex ed cirriculum my teacher told us that "women give sex to get love, men give love to get sex." But hey, at least we talked about sex, I thank my lucky stars that it wasn't Texas.
My peace is knowing that I will never be the girl who wonders if he is giving me affection just to get laid.
Love and sex or sex and love. Either can be a stepping stone to the other and only in a freakish coincidence do they happen simultaneously. I can only expect nothing, assume nothing, and hope for the best. |
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Getting over a breakup part two: an epilogue to hedonism. I went shopping again, this time for a man. It's been an embarassing long time since I've had sex, and I was determined to change it. After a few unsucessful shopping trips, I saw him. He was perfect. I set my sights on him. I could almost see the crosshairs superimposed over his face. Gorgeous? Definately. Kinky? Possibly.
I will call him "B." B is the mild mannered and somewhat serious type. Very different than myself and I like that. I could just see "DOM" written all over him, but that doesn't mean much. I have always been an optimist. But I was determined to find out.
We had sex on our first date. I simply couldn't keep my hands off of him. Damn, I'm such a whore. The sex was good, but it just left me wanting more. B walked the fine line between agressive and dominant. He pulled my hair only gently, and even spanked me, however lightly. Encouraging, but I didn't want to read something into nothing.
"Err..." he said uncomfortably. "I've got to get up early tomorrow."
"Good one." I said as I was leaving. "And umm... 'I'll call you.'"
We talked a little more on our second date. We actually got on very well together. I felt we got a good sense of eachother, he even gave me an endearing "only *you* would think that." reply to one of my hairbrained tangents. Encouraged by his half hearted ferocity of our last sack session, I made some quip about my affection for bondage when the opportunity arose. He gave me a blank puzzled look. Shit. Our second time in bed together was much of the same psudokink. He really is a terrible tease.
By our third date I couldn't stand it anymore. If I go any longer without kink I am going to spontaneously combust.
"Third date." I said to him with a sly wink. "you know what that means."
And he was more aggressive than ever. But I can't come right out and say "I like to be whipped!" I like things to happen more naturally than that.
What started out as an outlet for sexual frustration has turned into something else entirely. I am starting to have feelings for B. Argh, this wasn't supposed to happen. |
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"I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story.
From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more I couldn't quite make out.
I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but chosing one meant losing the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."
-Sylvia Plath from The Bell Jar |
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Anytime a girl goes through a breakup in movies she comes out of the whole ordeal a stronger and more realized woman. Right now I feel like I would burn incense and at the base of the HOLLYWOOD billboard and pray to Speilberg for that to come true.
When I was nine years old I got lost in the woods. I wandered off the path to find a frog pond my brother had shown me a week earlier. I confindently walked on, because I knew it was just up this way and to the left. When I turned left I didn't see it. I turned around and around again in hopes of something sparking my memory until I was unsure which way I had came. I started walking back for a while until I realized that this wasnt back at all. And then it hits you like an anvil in a roadrunner cartoon. Youre lost. And completely and utterly alone. Gravity of the situation bares down on you and suddenly you weigh 600 pounds, all in your stomach and your legs cant support you anymore. And then youre on your knees in the mud and swallowed by giant verdant ferns.
I don't know if I will find direction anytime soon. And as contradictory as it may seem, I am not looking for another Dom right now. My heart was just shattered, another man is the last thing I need. I wish I could find someone locally to give me direction. A gay Dom or a straight Domme maybe. But I can't trust people. Not because I don't trust their intentions, but because I don't trust their judgement. I guess I am just a child of the 80s, stranger danger and just say no.
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Step one of getting over a breakup. Consume, consume, consume. Eat the fattiest foods. Watch the most mindless reality shows. Go to Starbucks and get a cinnamon dolce latte, nonfat and extra hot, with whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkled on top. Drink three a day, as symptoms persist.
I went binge clothes shopping yesterday. Instead of focusing on prints as I usually do, I focused on fabrics. I picked out the softest suede and the coziest cashmere. Hundreds of dollars later I realized maybe if I were more tactile then I would be more tactful, and maybe if my clothes felt better then I too would feel better
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Well today Dan and I called it quits. I wish I could say I feel bad but the truth is, I don't. I don't feel anything. I am consumed in apathy. It's like when you stub your toe and for the first precious moments you can't feel it before the agony sets in. But I do wish him the best, and I hope he finds what he is looking for. He is going to make one special girl out there very, very happy. |
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Time is going by very fast lately, and Im not sure if thats a good thing or not. Time keeps pushing me towards my first meeting with Dan, but I also enjoy this courtship phase of getting to know him. I wish I could take things slowly, but its underminded by my off the scale sex drive. I know whats going on between Dan and I is the healthiest and most beautiful thing in the world, us falling in love, that is, but I cant help but twist it into something else. Although deep down I know he is one of the sweetest men in the world, I cant help but thing of him as the vile sex predator luring innocent girls online like some made for tv movie on the lifetime network. Why, I can almost see myself walking down the streets clutching my schoolbooks to my chest and Dan pulling up beside me in his white rapist van with tinted windows. "Come here little girl, want some candy?" He already knows that I have one heck of a sweet tooth, he has only to exploit it. |
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As an artist I feel like colour has personality. Im a very green type person where as Dan is very red. I like that, two colours on opposite ends of the colour wheel like yin and yang. Red has always been my least favourite of colours. I made a beaded training collar, and it feels like Dans phantom hands around my neck. Since red is Dan's colour, the collar is red and gold and clashes horribly with the greens and blues I usually wear. Today I dyed my hair... you guessed it, RED. Dan now thinks of me as his little red riding hood and I must admit the thought gives me goosebumps. Me walking through the woods with a picnic basket full of cupcakes and candies while my every move is being watched by the snarling lustful beast in the woods. *shiver* Dan is such a sexy predator! ^_^ |
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Christmas shopping! Argh! As I walked through the masses of people fighing over the last boxes remote controlled am/fm aromatherapy calculating air purifying vibrating seat cushions a devilish smile came across my face because I felt like I had a divine secret and no one knew of my delicious secret life. I felt almost like a superhero!... er, in a submissive sort of way. I wonder if I would enjoy bdsm so much if it werent so taboo.
As with most kinksters, I have problems in vanilla relationships. Like if he tells me to do something, I will do it... but not for the reason he may think. I am not a mindless sheep incapable of independant thought or worse, a whiney needy brat. I would want my vanilla man to know I obey to serve him and only him. Ideally, he understands and respects my own thoughts and opinions, but we both know in the end its his word that is final. I dont always act like the archetypal submissive woman, I am secure enough with my sexuality that I dont need to put on that facade. I certainly am not dominant in my day to day life, but I am not afraid to say whatever comes to mind either... I cant help if I am opinionated!
I used to work at a coffee shop where there was only one barista at any given time, so this gave me a chance to be my crazy self without anyone looking over my shoulder. There was a regular customer who used to come in. He would flirt with me, but wasnt creepy about it so I never felt uncomfortable. So one day while I was making his mocha he gave me an odd look. "Youre submissive, arent you?" he asked.
What?!?! I nearly spilled chocolate sauce all over myself.
I was too astonished the he knew to even deny it. "How could you tell?" I asked.
But he just smiled and said the he just could read these things in some people. This was before my revelation of this wonderful website, so there was no way he could have known elsewhere. I didnt feel exposed, I felt wonderful and connected. I do believe that perception is reality, and even though so few people may get it, it makes those that do that much more special :) |
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Twilight Lovers
by Foxglove
As he stood outside her window, he he put his hard
resistant dick back into his pants. There was no going back now. He sang a tune softly under his breath as his
fingertips touched her window, and slid it open
effortlessly.
He hoisted himself up onto her windowsill and into her room
in one quick calculated motion. Her room was warm and
smelled thickly of lilacs. She lay on her bed like sleeping
beauty, on her back, head turned away from him. Her small hands clutched the blanket under her chin, he wondered what was hidden under that blanket. He knew sometimes she slept in jammies, sometimes in panties, and sometimes completely nude. He took a few silent steps toward her, almost predatory stalking, ready to pounce. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness of the room, and he could see part of her sweet pale face under her mess of dark hair. Her hair that he had so badly wanted to touch, to comb for her, as if she were a doll, his own living babydoll. He
wanted to only stand there and watch her, breathing deeply
as she slept, but his crotch had other ideas. The word "rape" never entered his mind, as he knew she would love this, needed this with every fibre of her being. He sat down carefully on the foot of her bed, careful not to disturb her, and began removing his shoes, socks, shirt, and pants (keep that belt closeby!).
She was right up against the far edge of the bed. He was at
the opposite side, pulling the covers down and peeking
underneath. As his eyes focused to the darkness between the
sheets, he smiled. Naked, except for her panties. He slowly climbed into her bed, on his side facing her and paused.
Her breathing was the same as it had been, she hadn't
stirred a bit. He moved in closer, inch by inch, until he
was close enough to see the freckles on her exposed
shoulders in the soft moonglow, until he was almost close enough to taste her.
His fingers went to her belly, and softly caressed the
tender skin just bellow her belly button. Incredibly soft, just as he knew it would be. She inhaled deeply, but did
not wake. He traced his fingertips downward, slowly, loving every inch of her softness. His fingers found the top of her panties, and kept on moving his fingers down, on top of the soft fabric hugging her pussy. He touched and rubbed the contours of her pussy lips, while his face was in her hair, taking in her scent. Before long his mouth was just
about watering, as he moved a finger under the elastic of
her panties and felt the soft, hairless lips of her hot pussy. Wet, just as he thought, she must have gotten herself off before she fell asleep. He pulled the blanket over, exposing her small naked body, an almost ghastly shade of white in the dim blue light, but beautiful and silky smooth. She stirred slightly, but did not wake.
He squirmed his way down the bed. His hand gripped the
crotch of her panties, and pulling them down to her knees carefully.
SHIT! His heart pounded in his chest, as she started
moving around restlessly in her sleep. She began kicking
her legs gently, thereby removing her panties, flailing the blanket off the bed with her arms. Her head turned towards
him, eyes still shut, with a puzzled expression on her
porcelain face. She was obviously in a deep slumber, and most likely having a bizarre dream. He wait a couple
minutes, watched her face smooth out to a blank face of
perfect tranquility. Without thinking, his hand went up and
found her face. He began stroking her cheek with the back of his hand, when a faint smile came over her face. Im
giving her good dreams, he thought, but not as good as they were going to get.
In her thrashing, her legs had parted, and he carefully
moved between them. His finger went to the top of her
smooth shaven mound and moved down her wet little slit. She breathed deeply as his finger found her clit and began
moving in small circles. His slick finger slid down to her
hole, and she just about sucked him in. He started pumping
his finger in and out of her, feeling her tighten and
become wetter. She gasped, on the verge of extacy and
consciousness.
"Who the fuck are YOU!" she gasped, her eyes wide, seeing
him violating her.
"What a dirty mouth" he said, grinning up at her. But
his smile quickly dissipated when his hand found his belt
laying nearby. He moved upwards quickly and strattled her chest, his cock looking at her straight in the eye. He
doubled his belt in his hand, laxed it, and pulled it tighly to make a loud snapping crack.
"Are we going to have any problems tonight?"
She shook her head frantically. His stern face melted into a loving smile. He held her face in his hand and bent
down to kiss her forehead. He was then laying on top of
her, restraining her small body with his own. They were face to face, predator and prey. He lowered his face to hers, his lips spreading hers, and slipping his tongue into her deeply. He grabbed her by the wrists, forced them over her head and held them there easily with one hand. His other hand went down between her legs, rubbing her and fondling her roughly. His dark shadowy face was streatched into a lusty evil grin. Her head was arched upward, she was sobbing gently. He gazed intently into her shiny large eyes, his finger went from her hot inviting pussy to her lips, and pressed his wet finger firmly against her quivering lips.
"Shhhh" he whispered, maddening lust obvious in his
voice. His finger probed into her mouth. "Show me how youre going to suck my cock." He demanded. She began sucking his finger sweetly, she seemed to like showing off her skills to him. He gripped one of her hands in his own, and brought her hand down to touch his hard cock. He smiled as her eyes widened when her hand was forced to his cock, the terror was written all over her face. His cock was too big for
her. She knew his intentions, and she didnt think his enormous dick could fit into her little pussy.
"Its okay" he whispered, removing his finger from her
mouth and brushing the hair from her face. "Ill make it
feel good." he promised. The head of his cock was rubbing
in circles around her clit, and she sighed gently. His cock
slid down to her pussy hole, he knew she would want and
need this, but he never imagined him making her this wet. Her pussy was a well of hot oil for his huge throbbing
cock. This wicked girl, so full of cuss words and so dripping wet for his cock, he was going to fuck her good and proper. He cradled her hips in his arm and pushed his dick into her tight wet hole. As he pushed deep inside of her, her face pinched into an expression of pain. He
withdrew his cock, dripping from her pussy and thrust
deeply again. Soon his giant cock was pumping furiously,
all the while his eyes never left hers, noticing every twinge of pain and every sigh of passion. If she wanted cock so bad, she was going to get it.
"Do you like that, baby?" He asked, his voice a perfect
blend of genuine care and implacable lust. She whimpered an aproval, she indeed loved the feeling of this mans thick
cock stretching her wet little pussy around him. And he
drilled into her, making her feel every single inch of him
deep inside.
He was straddling her shoulders again. He rubbed the
head of his dick along her lips, parting them. He could see
in her eyes this was exactly what she wanted. She needed
his cum like it was a cure for some horrible disease. She
had been craving it. And he was more than happy to feed her
his load of sweet sticky cum. Her mouth opened cautiosly as
he thrust his cock into her face. He began to beat his cock
hard into her mouth.
"Open wide" he said. "I want to see your dirty little mouth filling up with my cum. And finger yourself for me. Mmm thats it. I bet that feels good, doesnt it?" Her hand was pumping between her legs, and her tongue flicked and tickled and lapped at the cock in her mouth. As her soft moans became louder and louder, He thrust his cock down her
throat and pinched her nose shut. Her orgasmic screams were muffled by his cock, he pulled out a bit, so his swolen
dick was at the entrance of her mouth. He fought the urge
to cum down her throat, he wanted his cum in her mouth, he wanted her to taste it.
"Yeah take my cum, baby" he growled under heavy breathing, as he shot his yummy cum into her licking and slurping mouth. His hand began pumping slower into her, as her tongue lapped at the cum oozing from his cock. A few drops of cum had spilled onto her chest, and she scooped them up and sucked her fingers as he got dressed. When he was fully dressed, he walked up to her naked vulnerable body, now hiding ashamed under the blankets. He grabbed the blankets near her face and tucked them gently under her chin, and around her body. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and smiled lovingly at her.
"Goodnight, sweetheart" he whispered, and he was out the
window, closing it behind him.
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I wasnt always this way. I wasnt always the raging nymphomaniac I am today, who cant focus on even the simplist of tasks because her mind is racing with sexual fantasies. I was a very asexual teenager. I would go to school and see the boys there and actually cringe. Since I could always get myself off and loved doing so, I thought this must be a mental problem and not a physical one. Oh please god dont let me end up a frigid man hating cat lady. I had to get to the bottom of this. What is preventing me from getting arroused? Could it be... oh god no. It cant be.
I knew what BDSM was, and that somepeople enjoyed pain, and that was completely cool. But all I knew of BDSM was what I had seen in movies. Beautiful women in leather corsets and high heeled boots handcuffing masked men to their beds and scratching their long nails down their backs. I never knew it could go both ways. In fact, if it were a man doing that to a woman, why it would be sick!... I think. Actually thats kind of hot. I wonder what it would feel like. *butterflies in the stomach* At least now it made sense, now I realized why I had been repressing my sexuality and couldnt become arroused. You would think it would get better from here, but so called morality got the better of me and I repressed for a few more years to come.
Until I met a man when I was 20 who changed everything. He was so sweet, so kind and caring to me and others, but I sensed there was something else just below the surface. But I couldnt quite put my finger on it. By this time anyway I was so presurized with depraved desires that I felt like the slightest bump or scratch was going to set me off on a rapage of sexual energy. So I decided to confront these feelings and surf the web, see if I could find just what the problem was and how bad my psychological damage was. What I found shocked me. I wasnt the only girl that felt this way, and far from it. I was absolutely elated.
There was still the matter with my new boyfriend who we will call "T". Surely if I told him about my sexuality he would run from the hills. I felt the best course of action was to send out coy little signals, I call them "subwaves" that he could pick up on if he were into that sort of thing, or if he wasnt, then he would be none the wiser. He picked up allright, and things progressed very organically between us.
But I had one deep fear that took a long time to quell. What if he knew what I was up to, and he was playing Mr. Dominant just to make me happy even though he wasnt really into it? The thought disturbed me, I would rather have vanilla sex than kinky sex with someone who wasnt genuinely into it. That was until I let myself go of all the guilt, and like an antennae struck by lightning I recieved the gift of empathy. I looked into his eyes and and could feel his desire, his love and control washing over me like the way a desolate dusty bedroom is overcome by shadow inch by inch at the end of a day.
I feel incredibly lucky to have found myself, some people never really do. |
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