One Of Those Days


I’m still alive.

Readers – long time or lurkers – I’m having one of those days, and I’m in one of those moods, where the fantasy of the ages is pulling some poor unfortunate soul down to her knees by her hair and fucking her mouth relentlessly till I’m spent or she chokes – on cock or cum, I care not.

I can almost hear the squeaking walls of the shower, her muffled moans as she gets her mouthful. I can feel slithers of saliva on my shaft, a desperate ache in my balls. I know I have a load to give her and I want it to dribble out her lips. Maybe she’ll greedily snatch a drop with her darting tongue, maybe she’ll let it run to her tits. She’s done that before. She likes to let it pool across her nipples.

I can picture our red faces, the unstoppable panting, the strands of hair stuck to foreheads in sweat. Both of us completely and utterly spent, our bodies aching, our souls purged, our inner dark beasts satiated for the time being. They’re hibernating now, going into a deep slumber.

Just Write

So. I just got an email from a reader of my blog and it struck me as sad and it’s for these reasons that I want to write this piece.

If you’re going to write in to me, if you want to write in to me, there’s a couple things I, personally, want you to know and understand.

I’m not as busy as you think. I’m not running around like a headless chook, know that while I may work, I also definitely check my email daily and respond in full as soon as I can.

I don’t respond to emails to be polite to you, to what a reader described as ‘a self proclaimed fangirl’ – I respond because I want to. You must understand, I started this blog not just to share my fantasies and satisfy a part of me, I did it in case it could inspire someone as awkward as I was when I started off.

So I love hearing from people – young, old, male, female, Australian, American, Norwegian – the more the merrier. Language barriers be damned! I love conversing with people and I love talking BDSM and it’s lifestyles.

Whether you’re a fan or seeking answers or even if you a bone to pick with me about something I wrote. Grill me. I welcome all of it, criticism, friendly chatter, the like.

You’re not bothering me. At all. In all my years of blogging, in responding to the kind people that write in, I can honestly say not one email has bugged me, not one. Even if one person has a laundry list of questions, I’ll sit down and work it out with them until they’re more spent then I am. Seriously. So never ever think that YOU are the person that will be too much for me, because that just won’t be the case. Try me, I dare you!

Do you want to write but don’t know what to say? Do you feel stupid because I can talk so openly and you find it rough to? I’ve had years to process how I feel, to work to rise above my own shyness. I was the same as you in the beginning. We all start somewhere and blossom on our own time.

I will say this though – just write. Don’t worry about grammar or context or anything, just write. I honestly care not for long novel-length texts, I read every word and respond. I’ll even write a long novel-length email of my own.

Start at the beginning. Write how you feel. Find a place to start at, to get the ball rolling, and then just let it go – just write and let it loose. If it feels good, write it. If it doesn’t, write it anyway and send it.

Too many times have I read that someone wanted to write in sooner or deleted several iterations of the email they just sent – and it breaks my heart.

I know I can’t TELL people what to do. I know I can’t get people to talk as frankly as I do, but I’m writing this because I want you to know, anything you have to say, in any way, is perfectly A-OK by me and that you should not feel shame or delete what you write, because I mostly certainly want to read it. Don’t even press that delete button or I’ll slap a crop against your knuckles!

Be yourself. That’s all I ask of you. Everything else, please don’t worry. I’m not as scary as your mind makes me out to be!


30 Days of Kink – Day #27: I’m a Day Dreamer!

Do your non-kink interests ever find their way into your kinky activities? If so, how?

I’ve been do slack putting these up the past few days – my deepest apologies to the person following this daily.

To answer the question, my non-kink interests always find their way to kinky activities. Where you there when I wrote about Ariel submitting to Ursula as a Slave in exchange for human legs? I’m a huge Disney fan! I set a path to Disneyland and World when I visited the states.

Did you ever read HERA? It was a story for a competition I created last year or the year before. In it, a group of spacefarers investigate a dormant spaceship floating quietly in space, only for them to fall victim to a erratic AI becoming conscious and developing the mindset of a mistress.

It incorporated another favourite genre of mine – science fiction – and has ties to Greek mythology as well, both things I am an avid fan of.

When it comes to writing erotica, I like moving against the grain. I find to do so makes for a challenge to me as someone creating the world in ways it will pay off at the end of the tale – but I also like to challenge the reader. It’s always nice to get an email saying ‘I’m not normally a science fiction fan, or like anime, or I don’t like rape fantasies – but this really took my breath away” – to me that’s a job successfully done.

I can’t help it either, you know? Being inspired by the world around me, or incorporating other things I like into genre. For me, it just comes naturally that I want to experiment with ideas – and there’s freedom to here because I trust readers will definitely tell me what works and what doesn’t. It’s a good place to experiment.

The long-running VALHALLA is another example. I love Norse mythology and fantasy and put both into the story around the more kinky aspects like the M/s dynamic. I actually borrow a lot from old Norse texts, lifting Valkyrie names from the Prose Edda and putting them into the story. Kára is one Valkyrie from the Prose Edda, envisioned here as a fiery soul, like a feisty middle child with problems of her own.

I know what you’re thinking though – yes, yes – enough about what you like to write about, what about your sex life? Well does psychology count as a non kink activity? I mean it IS kinky too to a degree but it doesn’t quite fit into the spectrum.

I’m interested in how minds operate and why. I’m interested in encouraging minds to break free of whatever aspect that is blocking them from that liberation. I’m interested in chipping away at armour in someone piece by piece to see what’s underneath and how we can play with that together.

There’s something really REALLY sexy about finding an aspect in someone that they never knew existed. Maybe it’s an interest, maybe it’s heightened pleasure. To break them when they say they can’t be broken.

Then it’s something as simple as walking out the door right? I walk out the door, ready to grab a coffee for the day (praise and glory be to the coffee) and all of a sudden I’m thinking how I can push kitten against this wall and making her whimper.

I’m constantly thinking about the world and the people around me and turning them into stories I can write about.

I’m a day dreamer.

How Can You Tell If You’re Dominant Or Submissive?

Ladies and gents, I’m kinda stumped.

Early in the week, I was talking to a lady about how to implement kink into her marriage with her husband, when she ran a question by me – How do you know if you’re Dominant?

I answered that question best I could in the moment, running my own experiences with identifying the feeling by her, hoping it would connect somehow. But now, days later, I’m still thinking it over. I don’t really know HOW. It all seems so organic looking back.

I have also recently had someone ask me If they’re still fully submissive if they enjoy being bratty – there’s a lot of misunderstanding about the persona and how it applies to the individual.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of confused and alone people out there with a laundry list of questions and no one to ask. I’m more than happy to answer anything anyone has to ask, be you male, female, teenager, adult, new to the lifestyle or in the middle of a transformation or even someone with an inkling of kinkling.

Anyway, I thought I would try to the answer the question at length, hoping newcomers to BDSM might relate and it can help them in their own journey.

In the beginning, I had these feelings that I had understanding of. I didn’t know I could file my name calling under ‘Degradation and Humiliation’ nor did I understand why I was so interested in control – in exercising authority over my girlfriend. In these stages, there was no real sense of D/s and aftercare because I was immature and these feelings were immature and coarse and unrefined.

Before I continue, let me just write that there’s no absolute way for one person. Everyone is different and works differently.

I should say that my own development has come with a certain degree of blind luck. I met certain people at the right time in my life, people like me, through Fetlife or the semi-sketchy anonymous confessional app Whisper. I was a lucky bastard. I had the blessing of shaping who I was through encounters along my twenties.

Fetlife was a big player in my path, I would say. By signing up and looking around, I could see I wasn’t alone. I could even put a name to my kinks and thus have some semblance of understanding.

Google helped too, in a way, acting as a gateway to all sorts of media – books, images, blogs, people, Kink. Suddenly I knew of words like ‘Dominance’ and ‘submission’ and ‘dynamic’. Combine this with Fetlife and I had opportunities to feel the gravitational force to someone who was submissive. I’m talking, heart racing, cock hardening, breath quickening gravitational forces that helped me realise something was within me.

I know what you’re wondering. ‘Okay, but how does someone know if they’re dominant? Or even submissive?’

The best advice I can give is that it starts with an idea. Have a google of key concepts that come to mind when you think of BDSM – blindfolding, handcuffs, dirty talk. Start small. See if something strikes up your fancy.

If you want to reach deeper, have a look at concepts within a D/s relationship, such as setting tasks and rules and maintaining order. See if any of these concepts appeal to you on a base level. Try not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information – there can be a lot to learn but you can easily break it up into easily digestible parts.

Start small. Start light. A bit of spanking, a bit of issuing commands – talk to your partner about what they would like to try and see if it strikes a chord with you on any level.

The last advice I can give is to be open to yourself and to your partner. That goes for likes and dislikes and even if you’re uninterested. But always be open to trying at least. You never know what you’ll find on the road less travelled.

The Guilt Behind Enjoying Dark Erotica: And Why It’s Okay To Talk About it

I have this ongoing relationship with my dark thoughts where I accept that they’re there and I own them, but their origin and reason for existing alludes me. Sometimes I catch myself mid thought and think ‘wait, you went there? Really?’

My readers have pulled me up on my darker stories before. Some have expressed their confusion on why they enjoyed a rape fantasy while my twisted takes on Disney princesses has polarised some enough to write in to discuss any themes at length. And any response (including response length) is welcome to me because good or bad, as long as you’re polite I’m happy to talk out philosophical differences with you. To discuss.

Some readers cannot though, which is why I’m here – this darker side of our minds is so different, so potent, so alien that it alienates the reader out of fear of being judged by the others that come to visit the same blog. They just can’t find the words because everything feels wrong. I’m there too, with my own stories. It’s a terrifying thing, this feeling that you might be THE ONE that scares others away.

What we need to understand is that there’s a difference between fantasy and reality. There’s a difference to the rules in the fantasy and the rules of reality – rules that govern your own life and the code of honour you live by.

When it comes to actively expressing these fantasies and bringing them to life, consent is there to form a new set of rules to keep peace of mind and safety. In this circumstance, as long as it’s discussed thoroughly and safety is paramount, living the fantasy should be – should feel – right.

But when it comes to looking at a fantasy and thinking about why it turns us on and how, it’s important to remember that enjoying something so decadent and devilish doesn’t change who you are outside the realm of fantasy, because we know that if we’d act out these fantasies, we’d have safety and protocol.

It doesn’t change how you feel about your marriage or your kids if you like a story about a poor pretty little thing being chased through the forest — because this is a seperate fantastical space for you to explore. You enjoy this feeling, this hunt, this setting, and there is no shame in embracing this as another aspect of your mind no matter the background.

Believe me, I’ve been there before. I’ve wondered about my sanity, about what my life and morals mean if I love to write rape fantasies. The answer is – I like it for the fantasy, I like it for how the fantasy feels to me in this context only. I don’t find an actual act of rape arousing at all. I’m not violent in any way. There’s just a thrill to explore something so dark and violent in a safe environment.

So please, The next time you find yourself battling a similar reaction to erotica that’s challenging, either on my blog or otherwise, remember its not a reflection on who you are as a person. It doesn’t make you broken or wrong or sick. You are a healthy person bravely exploring a part of your mind that others wouldn’t even dream to.

And if you ever find the need to talk to me about a story of mine that’s so dark and compelling to you, I don’t care how long winded and messy it is, I would love to hear it.

Be gentle on yourself – and always practice safety with each other.

In The Light of Day: Coming To Terms with Our Deepest Darkest Fantasies

When I started this blog and started writing up some rape fantasies – some of them already fully formed, some of them coming to me in dreams, I had received emails from readers who were disturbed by their intrigue in what I was writing. The two sides of their brain – analytical and creative – were wrestling with each other and the result was a morbid curiosity.

Just yesterday I read a comment on a blog post in which the user stated that some of their darker fantasies won’t ever see the light of day on their blog – out of fear of being too weird, too dark, too violent. It could also be that they want to keep that imagery to themselves and not share with the waking world.

I understand that all too well. Just a couple of days ago I posted a rough outline of a story called The Woods, in which a teenage girl is anally raped by a demonic tree. I scrapped it because I thought ‘gee, you’re really pushing it this time aren’t you?’ .

Pushing my comfort zone as a writer and the comfort zones of readers is an interest of mine – because I want to shed light on my own mindset while seeing if it has a place in the mindset of a reader.

I’m fascinated by people’s minds – what they don’t want to say but yet feel so strongly. I do it too, I have ideas I delete because I’m worried – worried that maybe i am too weird sexually after all. And maybe this whole WordPress thing is a fluke. I mean, as of writing this, my outline of The Woods has no response, which could either mean I am too weird and people didn’t dig it, or that it’s still a new post. Being an anxious person, I tend to spiral in thought.

And yet I’m compelled to keep pushing, to see what works and what doesn’t, to see if my weirdness can actually arouse in a primal animalistic way. Maybe it doesn’t work with poor Jen and this mystical tree but maybe it will for another encounter. I’m not sure.

I would love to tell anyone – any blogger here or any reader – to be themselves, to challenge that part of themselves that lives in fear of exposing this part of their mind. Because I know it can find an audience, because I know it can be cathartic to release this dark pressure and side of yourself to others who might secretly be in the same boat. But it’s not easy to confront that side of yourself. It takes courage and acceptance and a willingness to expose something so cerebral and precious with the world that could potentially be rejected.

It’s a risk to be sure, but if it connects with someone it can be a beautiful thing. A really beautiful thing.

To that end, I have an idea. It may not take off, people may not even respond, but I have an idea as of this moment regardless. Every idea a writer has is built around the question ‘What if?’, right? Well what if I created an anthology of darkest fantasies that belonged to readers or bloggers? Hear me out – readers or bloggers could submit anonymously, either through my email or through my tumblr where you can actually submit anonymously to blogs, and I could take the broad strokes of the fantasy to submit a story each month or week.

No one would know who it belonged to, only the person themselves. Everything else could be hidden as it was.

Of course that would mean sharing with and trusting me, which is the only hiccup I could see, but as a writer and reader myself, I’m excited by the idea of this. A way to interact with people and flex my creative muscles.

That being said, far be it for me to say that’s easy – I’ve spent my life fighting to be open. So it’s entirely up to whoever made it this far in this blog! I want to hear from you!

Language: A Short Erotic Piece

I couldn’t stop even when I knew it was wrong in all of the ways.

I had to have you.

I needed to have you.

I wanted to hear you curse in your native tongue. I wanted to hear the Spanish slip your lips as it rolled ever so smoothly off hold tongue.

I wanted to bury my head in your chest, inhale your scent. Not your perfume, your scent – your skin, your sweat, your hair.

I wanted to lose myself in the dark tangles of your hair, riding the edges of ecstasy, my hands gripping a fistful as I thumb the straps of your dress.

I had to see them. I just had to.

I had to tear your dress down, couldn’t do it gently, couldn’t save myself, couldn’t help myself from saving your strapless black bra for my eyes to feast on.

I gorged quickly, spilling your breasts free from their places, running my mouth across your darkened areola’s.

I had to flick my tongue along your nipples, dark, puffy, soft.

There was no taste…and yet…something faint. Light. Different. I wanted more. I needed more.

You don’t understand how long I’ve wondered. What you looked like beneath. How your breasts sat freely, how your body reacted to touch. How you smelt.

I had to hear you curse, I had to hear the rolls of the tongue, the beauty of the language in the throes of something wild, no matter the cause.

I had to know whether you were shaven, trimmed or natural. I like natural. The darkness, the untamed beauty. What meaning is this, what of nature. Heritage. Personality. Atmosphere. Of the world. I don’t know.

It wasn’t enough to see it, your coarse, unrefined mound. I had to taste, had to rub my tongue along the shape of your lips. I had to hear you – disgruntled, ferocious.

I needed you.


This one was born from an attraction to all things Spanish – the language, the women, the culture, the history – but also from the darkest corners of my mind. Specifically a wandering mind at 3am.

It went on longer in my head, becoming darker, weirder. But I decided to end it in the middle and leave some things to the imagination. I hope you enjoy!

Sensory Overload

All it takes is for her to duck into the lounge room where I’m resting, completely nude, in all her mesmerising glory, to grab a head band for her bath —
And my mind is transported away.
She is chained to the bedroom, completely naked, her arms and legs spread apart.

There’s a bag over her head. Something new. Me being sadistic by toying sensory deprivation. She won’t be able to see. She won’t be able to quell any concern with a kiss. How long should I leave her with the bag on? Perhaps when the air runs low, when her mind is dazed, I could bring her to the brink of her orgasm — and as my mouth rests over her cunt, my tongue teasing her clit with small licks, I can remove the bag.

And as her senses rush back to her, her body seizes with all the power of an orgasm. 
The dizziness of the air rushing back to her melds with her pleasure. Maybe it’ll catapult her senses sky high. Maybe she might be elated. Soaring high into a space that’s beyond the norm but not beyond my reach.
I could bring her back with a gentle hug, soft words – and the reminder that I am in charge of her. And all that she is. 
And then I’m back in the lounge, a grin forms across my lips. I know just what to do. 

Anxiety And Dominance



I’ve had people ask me how I deal with Anxiety as a Dominant and I’ve been hesitant to talk about it in the past because it’s such a personal and terrible thing but DAMN IT, this is 2016 and I want this blog to be all about breaking boundaries. If Year One of this blog was about Beginnings, then let Year Two be about breaking boundaries and exploring new dimensions!

So How do I deal with my anxiety in this relationship? And how does my kitten help me out?

Anxiety can knock me down in an instant. It doesn’t matter how strong I am or what I’m doing – when it comes for you – that’s it. It’s galloping at you full speed.
In these moments, one of two things can happen. I can channel this negative energy and turn it into a positive. A positive can include writing here (although in moods like that, I feel my words sound stupid and hollow), it can include mathematically looking at objects to build in Minecraft. Or it can come out sexually, which usually begins with me taking force over my kitten, being rough with her, degrading her and ending by coming on her tits or face. The last one is tricky because if I am going to play with that vessel, I want to be sure I am doing it for right reasons – and more importantly, doing it safely emotionally and physically.

The second thing is I have no sexual appetite whatsoever. None. Whatsoever. I will be in bed dead to the world, probably being held by her to calm down insane and irrational thoughts that I know are bullshit now but then, everything – every fear feels real. Roll on a bad movie, cuddle with her. Call it a day and fall asleep together.

Anxiety can come in waves. It can be there, scratching at the back of my mind lightly or it can go full blown panic mode, in which case I struggle to eat or sleep or do much of anything, really. I can still function as a Dominant for my kitty but my sex drive is weakened and so is my mental state. It usually lasts like this for a week.

Coming on her can calm me. That is what I want to talk about. I used to think little of the act when I was a teenager but now, it’s important. It solidifies something between us. She feels it. I feel it. It’s there in the air, like magic.

So in a way, the lifestyle can heal me and bring me back to normal at times. The more I get back to my old ways in these moments, the more I feel alive and the anxiety suddenly has no hold on me. Routines help my anxiety so discipline within myself and the tasks I set my kitten can help if I nip the anxiety in the bud before it can dwell. If not, it’s up to me to find my way back home.

And I guess home is kitten, her body and soul.

A Note To The Afraid Submissive

This is probably going to sound like a rant. Like a douche bag rant. Like a tirade that ignores a number of variables, some of which I probably couldn’t even dream of. But I’m going to write this anyway because I’m feel compelled.

I don’t like seeing shy and quiet submissive people afraid of becoming what they desire. I mean, not just women. Men, too. Men especially. I would probably guess there’s been a few men and women here afraid to speak up about their submissive tendencies.

Here’s the thing: you shouldn’t be afraid. Easier said than done, believe me – I know what it’s like to wake from a panic attack because of how you’re feeling. I went through that when I wanted to be in a D/s relationship – when I was in the wrong relationship. And it’s brutal.

But putting aside the fear for a moment – stop living in someone else’s skin. You may be [insert your name here] but you’re going to evolve into a redesigned version of her. Which means tearing off your skin.

We live in a society that doesn’t understand us, that wants to lump us in with the category of God knows what.

You know what? Tear off those clothes. I’m serious, go on. Stop looking at the screen and processing the text like I’m a nice little fable – tear off your clothes. People are home? So? You’re not alone though? The kids are around? fine, take your phone, tablet or computer to your safe zone and tear off your fucking clothes. That person underneath, the spirit that radiates warmth and excitement through your body. That’s you. That’s your essence, your sexuality, your beauty. Maybe you enjoy the sight of a bruise? Maybe you like your nipples pulled really fucking hard? This is going to be someone else’s instrument and you are going to love it. THIS is who
You are. This submissive soul right here. Don’t you dare second guess yourself.

Show of hands who did this? Who took the initiative? Good, I’m proud. The rest that didn’t, I expect you to follow through with this, despite the fear, because guess what? You’re beautiful, you’re sacred. You’re a temple someone will come along and worship.

Consider that activity a war cry, a beacon to others for empowerment. I want you all to practice, day by day, piece by piece, shedding your skin – till nothing is left but the new you. The true you. The submissive.

Maybe I’m deluded. Maybe I’m harsh. What I’m trying to do is enthusiastically push you all to where you want to be but are afraid to go. Because I’m here. Someone you probably know is here too. And we feel more complete after having gone through the journey.

So happy Sunday and remember to always embrace yourself despite what the little voice in your mind says back to you.