It’s Okay To Be Single

I don’t know how to begin such an opening so let me cut right to the chase. Christmas time, as much as it can be about joy and family and togetherness, can be alienating and depressing to the person who is single. Suddenly something so joyful becomes this gnawing absence and in the company of family, with couples of their own, it can be painfully lonely existence.

But it’s okay to be alone.

As a society, we’re so focused on coupling right? I mean, if you’re single chances are family or co workers are asking why that is or they’re saying how good it would be for you to find someone, to settle down – hell, so me might say even how parenthood can mature you so — have kids. Thanks Grandad!

But being single is a good thing. Learning how to be on your own is a good thing. With it comes independence and acceptance and time and patience and awareness of who you are and what you want.

Jumping into a relationship can be a dreadfully dangerous experience. Even more so if you’re a newcomer to BDSM and Dominance and submission and you’re looking for a partner for guidance. As a new Dominant, you can make mistakes and hurt a submissive and yourself. As a submissive, you could fall prey to an over-eager abusive false dominant.

Being alone means growth and reflection and time to yourself. Being alone means growing accustomed to silence. Being alone means finding what you want, in a partner, as a dominant or submissive, as a individual in so many different ways.

When my marriage broke down and I moved back to my folks, I was – for the first time in years, alone. I was sleeping by myself, cut off from talking daily to my ex wife. I had my parents to talk to, but that didn’t seem to help you know? It didn’t fill this uncomfortable void in me that was so used to sharing time with my partner.

It took a month of silence from her, a month of reflection and many soulful sessions where I’d write and record songs, red-eyed and desperate, about my existence. And I’ve already spoken about this sense of my life feeling as one complete story and thus I should commit suicide as being a total rational thought – it’s scary.

But. I did it. I became used to being by myself. I rebooted my life, the way I saw my life, and for the next few months I began a rebirth of sorts.

What I’m trying to say is this – you don’t need anyone to complete you. You don’t need a relationship to feel content or rewarded. There is nothing wrong with you for being single, despite what you feel or how your friends and family feel – and you certainly can take as much time as you want to figure things out.

And if you’re thinking ‘Well, I know I can be single, I just want someone’ – that’s fine too. Just remember to take time, remember to be patient and remember to look inside of yourself to find what you want, which is easier said than done – but it will come. Just don’t rush.

Some of us, we’re not used to being alone. But we can learn to be in time.

I wish you all a merry time if you’re celebrating Christmas, a merry time regardless if you’re not. Whatever festivities I’m unaware of, if you’re partaking it, I wish you a merry time, a safe time and a time of fine company, fine food and beautiful memories.

As always if you have any questions, feel a bit down or just want to chew a piece of my mind about one of my stories or this piece, you can reach me here or at darkanddominant@hotmail.com

12 Days of Kinkmas – Day #9 – ‘The Interview’

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ELIZABETH ABIGAIL QUINN

PART ONE OF RECORDED INTERVIEW

Date: – 9/12/18

 Duration: – 14 Minutes

No. Of Pages: – 3

 

 

Detective Andrews: This interview is being tape recorded at 10am. My name is Detective Aaron Andrews. Miss, what’s your full name?

Elizabeth Quinn: Elizabeth Abigail Quinn.

Detective Andrews: Okay. Just start whenever you’d like to, Miss Quinn.

Elizabeth Quinn: Uh…I’m not really sure where to start.

Detective Andrews: From the beginning – what do you remember? Or we can do this when you’re feeling up to it.

Elizabeth Quinn: I remember…I…I….It was late. I was…heading out to drinks. A get-together. Only…uh…someone….I mean, I don’t remember the next part…

Detective Andrews: That’s okay.

Elizabeth Quinn: I woke up in the room. Cold, I remember it being cold but it was like a bedroom. Uh. Unfurnished but with a bed… in the middle, the bed that I…uh…was tied to on. And there was this man…A santa, with a santa mask but with the full outfit, the red suit and…He would…He dressed me. Candy Cane socks and….green and red underwear and…this stupid elf hat. I was his Elf, he would say. His sweet elf. He’d..uh…he taught me things at first. How to, uh, kneel. To kneel with my back straight. If I was wrong he’d…

[Elizabeth turns around and lifts up her blouse, showing scars on her lower shoulder blade where she had been struck by the unknown assailant.]

Detective Andrews: He’d hit you.

Elizabeth Quinn: Sometimes with his fist. Other times with his belt. Most times he’d…punish me by uh, forcing me to….orgasm by….by….[inaudible]. A candy cane…. [inaudible]. Other times he would rape me. As a gift each morning he would say, and uh, each night as a goodnight. Sometimes I would wake up and I couldn’t tell what day it was, except that I was…..soaked. And he’d tell me. He’d say it in his santa voice – he’d always use that Santa voice – he’d talk to me about hypnotic suggestion. That he could cause me to…..orgasm. To squirt. I didn’t know what to believe, but sometimes I’d feel…well, I’d feel out of my body. But watching. And I would feel there, and present but I was only watching. And I could see myself… touching myself and….enjoying it? And…orgasming and squirting on cue and on myself and on the bed… I don’t know what to believe now. What was a dream and what was not…I mean I could see myself doing things I…..

Elizabeth Quinn: Before all that…he’d sit and read to me, gently, like some sort of children’s television host. He’d teach me about kneeling, yeah, and behaving – about slave discipline. About obedience. About servitude. About….about….my….

Detective Andrews: When you were found this morning, er, nude in an alleyway off of the CBD, you were talking about….other Elves?

Elizabeth Quinn: Other helpers…willing helpers.

Detective Andrews: Willing? Could you describe them?

Elizabeth Quinn: I can’t…I…I mean, they had their own masks…

Detective Andrews: Anything you can give me.

Elizabeth Quinn: One was a woman…she’d love to…She sounded…foreign? Uh, English I think? The other was a man. I couldn’t tell where he was from.. The both of them would help train me to be…what they’d call obedient, in the name of Christmas cheer. They’d take turns. Sometimes she would come, and feed me breakfast…uh…sometimes fruit…sometimes not. She would force me to watch porn with her and if I didn’t, she would hit me with her…paddle. I would come, for her amusement. Sometimes with her too, alongside her. A double…

Elizabeth Quinn: Other times I would be chained beneath them sometimes, while they masturbated over me, watching me and each other. Sometimes I’d be forced to…perform oral while someone took me anally. It was like being in a nightmare. I never knew it would end. When they would decide to stop flogging me, both of them. Almost in time. Almost.

Elizabeth Quinn: Sometimes…sometimes I could be above all four of us, watching. Like something out of a dream. Hovering and watching me, seeing how pink my….behind was. How raw my skin was, like I wasn’t me anymore. Like I WAS this elf….or that I no longer existed anymore. That I was viewing a dream of myself. Or that I was waking to reality.

Detective Andrews: This was the hypnotic suggestion?

Elizabeth Quinn: Yes. Or. So I think. I don’t know. Is this what you want?

Detective Andrews: Anything you can give us, about who these criminals were, about where you were for so long…Your family filed a missing persons report back in June…

Elizabeth Quinn: June….I can’t believe it’s been so long. This elf – I mean…I’m sorry. I’ve been trying not to do that this whole time.

Detective Andrews: No, do not apologise.

Elizabeth Quinn: They called it speech protocol. If I got it right without missing a beat, I’d be fed. And if I didn’t…

Detective Andrews: We don’t have to talk about it.

Elizabeth Quinn: I’m sorry.

Detective Andrews: There’s really no need to apologise, Miss Quinn.

Elizabeth Quinn: Please don’t [inaudible].

Detective Andrews: I would never. Er, we can stop this here for now.

END OF PART ONE

 

 

 

 

12 Days of Kinkmas Collection

In honour of the fourth annual 12 Days of Kinkmas (Formally 12 Days of BDSM Christmas but hoo boy, what a mouthful), I thought I would compile a list of the previous three years for anyone interested to catch up or newcomers or just people that enjoy my writing – it’s all there to binge. Or not! The choice is yours!

For anyone out of the loop, my12 Days of… series is back-to-back Christmas themed short erotica. Call it a gift from me to you!

12 Days of BDSM Christmas – 2015.

  1. Ignition’
  2. Mud’
  3. ‘Ornaments’
  4. ‘My Gift to You’
  5. ‘Worship’
  6. ‘Final Exam’
  7. ‘Monument’
  8. Obedient Little Girl’
  9. ‘Driving Home’
  10. ‘Reflections’
  11. ‘Q/A’
  12. ‘Giving Thanks’

 

12 Days of BDSM Christmas – 2016

  1. Elizabeth’
  2. ‘Snow Angel’
  3. ‘The Voice in the Darkness’
  4. ‘The Myth of Writing’
  5. ‘I Kissed A Girl by Katy Perry’
  6. [An animal tore out this page]
  7. ‘The Dominant’s Growl’
  8. Christmas Fetish
  9. Christmas Guests
  10. Christmas Lights
  11. Terrible Mother!
  12. MERRY CHRISTMAS!’

 

12 Days of BDSM Christmas – 2017

  1. ‘The Little Drummer Boy’
  2. ‘Silent Night’
  3. ‘Interlude I – Elizabeth II’
  4. ‘Jingle Bells’
  5. ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’
  6. ‘Interlude II – The Cabin’
  7. O Holy Night’
  8. ‘Joy to the World’
  9. ‘Interlude III: Rite of Passage’
  10. Do You Hear What I hear?’
  11. ‘Candlelight Carol’
  12. ‘After’

 

 

 

12 Days of BDSM Christmas 2016 – Day #3: The Voice In The Darkness

 

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The first thing she noticed about the blog was that it had a pull over her.
She had read many blogs lately, some came and went, others were very informative – but this….this was something else.
There was a pull about this one, something that made her feel as if she was gravitating towards something larger than her, larger than the world around her.
In an entire sitting, she devoured this blog. Devoured it while she sat in her room, alone and nude, propped up on one shoulder while stretching her right nipple slightly to dull the building ache.
She read the entire blog – every article, every story, everything from journals to little comments after the journals.
Spent, she collapsed into a deep sleep, leaving the real world behind in a blur.

She awoke in a daze. Something was knocking at her bedroom door. It came in three loud waves. One….two……three.
She climbed out of bed, dazed and confused, one arm shielding her breasts.
By the time she opened the door, she was wondering why she didn’t put pants on at least. What if it was an emergency? A break in? Why would the burglars knock? She was still sleep drunk.
When she opened the door, she flicked on the light of the bedroom. It lit up her apartment hallway. Nothing was there.
Maybe it was a dream, thought She, and she flicked the light off, closed the door and crawled back into bed. Back into the sea of dreams.

Dreams are funny things. How they shift and change, how the duration of one feels like it can last a lifetime.
She dreamt a man was chasing her, whose features she could not describe, for they were shielded in darkness.
Her dream would be normal, she’d be at her family for Christmas Dinner and she’d go to the toilet. But then the toilet window would open and elongated legs would slip through, revealing a tall gaunt man. Handsome and yet she couldn’t quite see all of him. All of his body or all of his face.
“Let me in” Came a voice, a growl, from somewhere around the toilet and she would panic and leave the toilet.

 For the duration of this dream, the scenery would change but the situation would end up the same. She was celebrating Christmas, she needed to go to the toilet but the man would appear. Sometimes through the window, sometimes before her, looking at her and how her panties lay twisted and crumpled at her feet while she tried to urinate.

“Let me in” would come the voice, hoarse, unrecognizable.

She came to in a start. Jerking, as if she fell through the bathroom floor.
The time on her clock read 3:09am.
Another twitch washed over her body and then she urinated. Her body muscles gave way, gave in to the relief, the deliciousness. She found herself paralysed with sleep, but also with relief, as she felt her sheets becoming warm and wet.
And that’s when she felt the bed sink, as something else carried its weight over to.
She sat up in fear but the dark shape that was forming at the foot of her bed held her down by her neck.
Her vision was forced to the ceiling as she felt something like smoke wash over thighs.
Then something formed, she felt cheeks. She felt a nose.
A tongue, hot and wet, slid up her urine soaked cunt, from her ass to the top of her slit. And she quivered.
A noise came out of her, a moan crossed with a scream, as the tongue left no corner of her cunt untouched.
Her head seemed to sink back into the pillow, beyond the material, and she fell between worlds.

It was Christmas all of a sudden. And she was upstairs, looking through her bag for photos of her recent holiday to Disneyland to show her family.
Except something had gone wrong. There was a man, somehow, that had convinced her that she should undress.
She lay with her bedroom door open, her breasts exposed, her dress hitched up and her Mickey Mouse panties pulled aside, as the man was sucking on her clit.
She knew she had to be quiet, because her father was up stairs as well, asleep.
She could hear the man rifling through her bag and suddenly she felt lace skim across her belly, across her arms and before she could compose her thoughts further, this man was stuffing her panties into her mouth.
She choked on her own scent, could taste it vividly.
“All you have to do is let me in” came the voice, hoarse and frightening.
Shame washed over her as pleasure built up in her cunt. She enjoyed the taste of herself, despite an uneasy fear in the back of her mind.
When her boyfriend stepped through the doorway, she couldn’t stop moving. She couldn’t stop squirming her cunt into the man’s mouth. Every lick from his tongue felt ridiculous.

She awoke feeling like a weight was crushing her. Her hands were held down while something hot and wet slid her nipple into its mouth.
“You’ve started to open the door now, you can’t get rid of me.”
She tried to form words but just a gasp of ait came out, a squeak. She was utterly powerless.
“I can show you how to live deliciously…”

She was lying in a room of blinding light. She came to realise she was naked.
Cicadas were humming loudly outside and she realised she was back at her parents during Christmas.
“You slept a long while” came a voice she recognised instantly.
“Daddy?” She said, suddenly feeling the need to cover herself.
Except he was already beside her, pressed into her. She could feel his cock skimming against her ass as he lay behind her.
He stopped her from pulling the sheet over herself.
“Have you ever had a dream where you are fucking a family member?” He said, musing.
She shook her head, denying it. It was wrong.
“People don’t want to admit to that. But it comes out, you know. I always bring out what people want.”
As her Daddy said this, he tugged on her nipples.
It had been some time since someone stretched them to breaking point and now her Daddy was doing so.
She squeaked out a response, frozen in place.
“I trust you remember the time you peeped through the keyhole of the shower. Curiosity was it?”
She shook her head as she felt her Daddy’s cock stiffening.
“Was it?”
He tugged on her nipple harder, twisting it. The pain was immense.
“Kids are curious I suppose, but then you never lost it as an adult”
On the word ‘Adult’, he squeezed and she leapt out of bed.
Time seemed to stutter. Her Daddy’s cock was in her mouth, warm and salty, with the faintest taste of sweat. She felt like gagging but also the need to fulfil her daughterly duty. As if she could be herself in this…

 “What you don’t understand is that I see you for who you are”
The voice in the darkness was smooth, velvety.
It came out like a whisper. Maybe you know the sensation, when you swallow a piece of sweet dark chocolate, or a sip of your favourite alcohol. It goes down smooth, gentle, easing, like the voice. But there’s a promise of.
She was on her stomach, her ass propped up in the air.
“Now Let. Me. In.”

She had always wondered about her co-worker’s sexuality.
But when she invited her over for Christmas drinks, she knew, for certain.
When her co-worker took off her coat and revealed her low cut dress beneath, there was a vibe, resounding and strong.
When the two were sitting on the couch, her co-worker had asked her, “What is it you want? What else lies hidden deep in your mind?”
She felt her cunt tighten and contract, hoping against hope that she would undress.
The stutter of the dream world skipped and her co-worker was sitting on her lap, kissing her face, her neck.
She didn’t resist even though she had a boyfriend that took care of her every need. She was, after all, bisexual, and it had been sometime since she had felt that touch.
The woman made their way to the bedroom, tearing off their clothes.
Fuck, she had never seen a more beautiful woman. It’s like this dream made her realise just how hot for her, she really was.
Her co-worker knelt above her, her small breasts kissed by freckles all around.
She wrinkled her nose and smiled down at her, before lowering her mouth on her cunt.

 Her cunt tightened as she came, overwhelming emotion smacked her across the face, traveling down her thighs. The dark hand that had been rubbing her slit did not cease movement and she screamed, wondering if it made a difference at all to anyone outside of her house.
She came again. And again, the sensitivity building up within her until she was squirting across the bed in thick short bursts.
When the hand finally withdraws, she collapsed in her soaking sheets, panting and sobbing.
That’s when she felt hot breath over her ears.
“You invited me in, I came. Now…I own you. I live here.”
Something tugged on her hair and pain shot through her entire weakened body.
“I will call again, when you least expect it. And do not deny me”
And then the dark velvety voice was gone, leaving her to the silence.
She sobbed.

 

 

Author’s Notes

This story is part supernatural / part psychology of dreams. What are your dreams of a sexual nature like? What do they say about you? I mean, to a lesser extent that is what I am writing about.
This piece is primarily about how writing can infect your mind and your subconscious, mixed with my fascination with horror of course. The lead character is tormented by an entity, forced to urinate and undergo a series of too-real sensations involving perversions in her life, regarding her dad and co worker.
What I wanted to do with this piece was arouse first and foremost but I also hope I’ve had some dwell on their naughty dreams and the significance behind them. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a truth for you to discover that could very well lead to an epiphany!

-TD&D

 

 

12 Days of BDSM Christmas – Day #1: ‘Ignition’: A short story

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Welcome all to the first and early entry of TWELVE DAYS OF BDSM CHRISTMAS!

Because I’m lovely, I am coming in with an early gift for you all, with eleven more to come each and every day. They might stories, they might poems. Pictures. Autobiographical notes. Animalistic fantasies. Who knows? Not you, of course. First up is Ignition. May it ignite your imagination!

-TD&D

Tsk, Tsk little girl.
When I told you we were hanging up the Christmas Tree, did you honestly think it wasn’t going to end up like this? With that light burning your thigh?
No, my child. No no no. I taught you better than that. Or..perhaps I have not?
How does it feel, I wonder, to have that string teasing your little shaven cunt? To have it burn a spot on you?
I like this…standing over you and watching you try to wiggle free. Seeing the light cord slip across your clitoris. I can’t imagine what you’re thinking right now. Does it tickle? Hopefully your cunt is burning as much as that light on your smooth and pale flesh is.

“Be still” is all I have to say – and you freeze, your feet still in the ear. Your glistening cunt for me to see. For me to admire.

For me to claim.