shatteredKajira

I'm so restless, so jumpy, so... frustrated!!!

Please God, someone take the time to know me, to give me a try!

Merry Christmas 2024

I'm terrified I can't feel desire or lust anymore, am I broken as a woman? 

In answer to an email of a Sir - perhaps others may find more of me too?

Sir,

I cannot limit myself to a list of check-off boxes, but I detest age play, cnc is something to be careful with and my nipples are simply pain 98%of the time. Water works in themselves aren't appealing to me, but being a slave, I've had bathroom privileges controlled, well, anything in life controlled, to varying levels. I'll obey, but telling me if I can piss or not will not arose me in the least. I'm pretty sure I outgrew roleplay at least a decade ago, but perhaps that wasn't just from a heavy kink community, but young kids. 

I think I would be a real pressure on you, kink wise, as honestly, your list is very soft for me. I'm into REAL. I don't do structured scenes unless we're required to, I live my life with a kinky sstreak in all I do. I want a non-stop connection not just to love and laughter, friendship, lust, sex, and more - but to what we are D/s wise. Whether it be subtle like collar or chain, or overt like a controlled regimen or ritualized, it has to flow like the rest does. Not saying it won't ebb and flow, but like the ocean, it doesn't stop. 

I need a man who's in the more aggressive and assertive edge. Controlling for his pleasure, but only to the limit of mine. there IS a line between use and abuse; I learned that the hard way. I am a heavy player, as my pictures on fet show. I provide that link very seriously because this website is far too "woke" for who I am. I'm very based, very raw, very tactile and serious. I walk my funny side hand in hand with my serious side and I'm careful of when to laugh or when to stop. 

I am very cerebral, very into topics that interest me and I love a rousing argument just as much as I do a relaxed interaction. I get excited over things that others may not connect to other things I like and I slide between topics in a weave of conscious flow that can confuse many people. If you can't juggle 3 or more topics all at once, I'll wear you out intellectually. 

Conversely, I'm an extroverted introvert and prefer my days at home, with a watch list of data, news, current events, 2a, political, historical, real crime, true events, etc - or with a book or three at a time. 

Right now, medically, I'm pretty fragile, which I detest, but have to admit to. I am kajira, a slave, property such as a dog. I believe chauvinism is how 99% of the world should be and women in power its destroying things faster than men alone ever have. I cannot undo my slavery, no more than excise my brand. I will always see life through the rules of such. That means absolute honesty. I can be careful of how I come across, I can be selective of who and what I answer - unless it's my owner - but to lie by omission is still a lie. I will need help, literally, to get back to the ability to be physically active, in all ways. I don't know if my lungs, or my heart, will ever recover to the point where I will be free of the need for oxygen assistance and cardiac awareness. Right now, living alone (minus teenagers) I have to be careful not to overdo or I end up either collapsed or in the ER... or both. It's scary and mentally... devastating. 

I hope this... helps you see deeper into who I am, all around. 

Kimberly 

June 2024

All the years that have passed since my last entry and I'm in an insane mirror world where I'm trapped with him again. Choosing the kids again. My soul is gone, there's no love and laughter to greet with, no holding hands and thrilling looks, no anticipation... of good or bad. I am still No longer in steel, proof how I'm undesirable.

He is a hollow shell, a ghost of who he was - all he was. The man who hobbles through my apartment is bitter, broken, deeply unhappy.... the attitude has become apathy, the confidence has become bitterness. The grief muscles cover his face until he's unrecognizable and the missing limbs make him think something inside is missing too. What once was powerful now is pitiful and whatever we once had; faded memories. I try to force him to leave, but he laughs as he curls up on a chair outside with his laptop... homeless yet not in the least. the kids scream at me about why can't I just be a good wife, a good cook, a better housecleaner? Why can't I just shut my mouth and let him die in peace? (Though they know i may go first)

They can't understand the sorrow in my empty eyes and as he revives again in simple motions. They also don't understand... the hate, the rage, the abuse, the ugly words and texts. Neverending abuse I lived through for more than decades to TRY to give them a dad. They can't see what I go through - both good and bad - every time he rounds a corner. The way I flinch when his head whips around or the way I refuse to put my back to a wall... anywhere. They don't know I remember his magic hands on my body or the best friend by my side for decades. They don't see when we smile at a shared memory that it hurts both of us. 

They blame me, as well he's taught them. Hell, I did right, but I blame me too. I've tried, so. Fucking. Hard. For years to forgive and forget. But when his hands grab my neck I react, when he gently touches me, and I know what pain is next, i can't stop freezing. When he kisses me and I sob.... he walks away with a look of disgust, hate, retribution. Away enough to hear me cry and beg forgiveness, enough to hear me beg to be his again, no love even, just property. Beg for the gag, the collar, the pain, the burns and broken. The plead for the hood so I don't see him and he can't see me. To even be taken, this life from the kids in exchange for death or use. Anything but this horrible hell I suffer every single day. 

But what is it a sadist wants? REAL PAIN. What is more painful that making a slave a single mother? Anything more soul destroying to hear her beg to choose you over them, to see you've won. They don't want her, they want you. To hand her the loaded gun and laugh that she won't pull the trigger because she won't leave the kids with that final thought. 

My mom destroyed my childhood, but in disliking herself - my mom ruined my life too, by taking hers. 

I can't