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. 

The Mind is Always Evolving


I don’t think there will ever be a time where I’ll stop growing and evolving. Where I will reach the limit of my growth and can say ‘well, I’m definitely into all of these things and kinks, there’s nothing else’.
Though that’s sometimes frustrating, especially when someone asks ‘well, what do you identify as?’ And I have to stumble on my words to say I’m a mix of things, it’s also a thing of beauty. Because there will always be something brand new to discover. 
For example, there’s a huge part of me that identifies with the 19th century gentleman and this unspoken undercurrent of Dominance and submission. Jane Eyre, apart from being a terrific read in general, was deeply erotic for me. 
And I identify with this gentleman because a big part that I’m drawn to is regulation. Polite wording like ‘Pardon me’ instead of ‘huh?’, standing up straight – etiquette like that – it speaks to me.
And there’s so many different nuances to something like that. Chin up, beck straight, hands to the side, hands behind your back, ask for permission to go out with your girlfriends, all these different things that branch off to different concepts and regulations and ways in which the relationship can evolve or adapt.
But then aside from this strict gentleman, or the 1950’s household hybrid of that gentleman, there are the other aspects of my personality that I’ve discovered along the way, the Daddy and the Master.
The Daddy aspect has always been with me, I think, since my early twenties. And as I got older and more at ease with myself, it has been more prominent and refined. I’m sure if I co wrote a blog with my lady, she could vouch for times it comes out – say, if she’s snacking before dinner and I tell her not to, she can hear it in my voice. Or if she’s ill but staying up late. Of if I want to read to her or be by her side when she colours. 
Recently, I’ve felt a different side bubble to the surface that bears similar traits to a Master. This crosses over with the 19th century gentleman, as the concept of setting rules and regulations in a M/s environment with many different concepts also at play intrigues me. But it’s also not quite the dynamic that fits my current relationship, as my kitten and I sit somewhere between the M/s and Daddy / LG concepts. 
It’s weird to explain because the mind shifts at any given moment and borrows traits from established roles. So it’s a mix.
And as such, I think I will always be finding out new things about my mind. Maybe I’ll change. Maybe this relationship will change. The How’s and the Why’s can be pondered all night, and this thought is lengthy enough. 
Bottom line is that I’m always growing and learning and finding new ways to live and play and explore and that’s beautiful. 
How about you, stranger? Are you a mix?

Do Not Be Afraid Of Who You Are

I’ve been in the lifestyle for a number of years – 12, technically. And yet, a number of those were me wandering in the dark scared of my own desire. Fearful of who I was. 
I’m much better now, with an open dialogue between the various aspects of my personality. But I still struggle. Whenever I am about to post, I am scared initially. Scared that one day, one thought will go too far. One story will be too rough. Or weird. 
I mean, I’ve written about sea creatures and vampires and sex cults and you guys are still here. But I still worry. 

And so today, I want to talk about fear.
For some, it starts at the beginning of your journey. You have a thought so effective that it scares you because of how you perceive it – that it’s weird or demented or troubling. 
Maybe it’s not just a thought, maybe it’s a mindset. A rape fantasy. A bondage fantasy. Maybe you’re a masochist and you’re trying to understand why you like sadistic concepts. 
Running from that thought won’t work. I tried. I ended back at square one face to face with the thought. And I’d feel guilty.
The trick, I think, is to begin to rewire your outlook. Day by day, steal a moment to yourself and think about what scares you. Remind yourself you’re not alone. That it’s okay to be the way you are.
For me, it was a long and slow process. I signed up to Fetlife. I challenged myself with nude photos. I dived into the local conversation. And day by day, I’d take a moment to read about it, in books, online. 
I think because I always kept the door open to learn, that eventually it became second nature to me. I felt okay being this weird mix of Daddy / Master / Primal.
Even though that’s my story and everyone is different, I feel like the keeping the door open notion is useful. Don’t run from it, keep one foot in the door and one foot in your comfort zone until you are ready to take a wander through entirely.
What we feel, who we are, is natural. It’s what makes us beautiful. Whether you’re interested in bestiality, like an old friend of mine once was, or whether you’re laying in bed married but out of sorts with your spouse. 
The first step is admitting these thoughts are okay. Are your own. The next step is up to you. You might fall or stumble but you’re stronger then you realise. You’ll be okay.
If you need help taking that initial step, if you want to run by a desire just to hear someone else let you know it’s perfectly fine, if you are confused, whatever the reason, you’re not alone. My email – my door – is always open.
Don’t be afraid to step through. 

Playing With Fire: A Daddy Dom Ramble


I’ve had a few drafts of what I want to say. I can’t figure out how to be precise with my words here. So expect some free form stream of consciousness.
I watched this show where a teenage girl was hovering her hand over an open flame, admittedly been through a lot, not to mention being a teenager in the first place. And my mind jumped to so many different tangents with the image. Experimenting with pain, sexual

Identity. Guidance. 
It kicked off this whole train of thought that is current doing the round. Which led me to writing it down here. 
I’m a Daddy. This much is true, whether it’s sexual or instinctive. Or darker. 

And I’m of two minds – one half trying to comfort this teenage girl while the other half helping her to experiment. Because experimentation, under watch, can be rewarding. So maybe my hand on hers, feeling the slight burn. No going back. Showing her that there is this whole side of things that you can practice as a form of therapy, if controlled in a healthy environment. 
And I’m not too sure why. 

I often wrestle with my animalistic impulses. I’ll shy away from the absurd because a handful of people understand and the rest don’t. 
I think the reason why this show has sparked feeling with me is partly because I was that experimental teen, dealing with pain – unhealthily at first. So when I see a teenager, male or female, struggling, I become that surrogate Daddy. Whether they like it or not. Because I can’t help it. And because my heart is too deep, or so they tell me. 
When I was first fully exploring my Dominant side, I met a teenage girl through Whisper going through a really rough time. I was 26 at the time. And she was flirtatious and sent nudes randomly. And I understood why. Or partly understood. 

I didn’t act. I didn’t want to. She was certainly attractive. Legal, if you’re mind is going there. But I could feel she was trying to justify something, her worth, herself, anything. And so I talked to her, told her politely as I could that the nude photo wasn’t necessary. 
And I don’t know why or how I came to it, but I saw her as a little sister. And whenever she texted me to vent, I would listen. Whenever she called, I would listen. 
And eventually, she stopped calling. We stopped talking, I didn’t bother her. I get it into my head I’m annoying – and a part of me felt guilty about the fact that I was even talking to her, because age. 
And age is weird. When my kitten was 16-17, I was 21. And I wouldn’t dream of dating her then….but now, it’s okay. Our minds are weird. Human, I guess. 
So when I see a teen or hear of a teen struggling, I see myself. I’m instantly transported to my days of discovery. And I guess that sparks on a transformation into a Daddy.
And I’m writing this all out because I feel like it needs to be said. I feel like there’s this sort of creep factor or age barrier that comes with the Daddy Dominant that misconstrues meaning. And I feel, a lot of the time, there’s a younger audience to my blog that needs to talk about something to a random who doesn’t know their friends or family. Who needs to hear they’re okay to experiment. 
Just like sometimes I need someone to tell me: it’s okay to feel like this. It’s an instinctual thing. You’re not a fucking creep. Even though, through writing this, I kinda feel like I am, you know?
So: the image of this girl testing the flame. It made me think of myself, it made me want to guide her, tell her things are okay. It made me want to walk the path with he while she opens the doors to discovery and sexual identity. 
This may be an 18+ blog, with mature themes, but I’d never turn anyone under 18 away. Because that person was once me. 

Don’t Run Away From Your Feelings

Take it from someone who has lost too much time living in my little fear bubble, if you come to this little corner of the web, and you’re wondering about dark things – things that claim you in the dark of the night and haunt you during the day, try not to run from it. 
Easier said then done, right? I know. I was one of those people claimed by the dark. The sun would go down, I would slink into some dark corner of my mind, I would thrive there, be engulfed, consumed there – it was exhilarating in ways I could never describe. And by morning, I was an anxious mess. 
I kept wondering What does it mean? Am I insane? Psychotic? Where do I go from here? What does this say about me as a person??
If this is you, if you’re reading these words now or have read my erotica and find yourself equal measures aroused or repulsed, take a deep deep breath and step back. Look at everything you’ve learnt about yourself and think on just what is it that’s disturbing you.

Running away doesn’t solve anything.
It’s like trying to run from your shadow. 

Think of it like this – running away will only heighten the tension and make the problem bigger. 

The thing you need to remember is there is nothing wrong with how you feel. Nope. NO. Nothing. Yes, even that. 

You’re in touch with something deeper than anything you might’ve ever experienced. And yeah, that’s terrifying. Where do you go from there? Who do you talk to?
 Luckily, we’re connected to the Internet, the source of all sorts of BDSM communities. And to top all that off, what’s one thing you have? Time. Time to take baby steps. To understand yourself. To understand what it is you want. 
The way I look at my desires is this: I’m exploring this bit of my humanity that others, for reasons such as fear or alienation, are not willing to go to. It’s kind of like waking up from a dream and uncovering aspects of who you really are. 

Embrace this. 

When I ran from my fear, I became moody and anxious. It wasn’t pleasant. I was quick to temper because this part of me was outgrowing me. I was shedding my skin. And there was a battle for my very soul. Which sounds dramatic but let me tell you, I wanted nothing more to be Dominant, leading this wondrous submissive persona, and I was stopping myself from becoming free.
No matter how dark, or primal or weird, I guarantee you that you are not alone. Someone out there is feeling the exact same, is struggling with you or has embraced this part of their mind.
So to you I say, don’t run. Embrace this secret side of yourself to rise above the fear and reach a heightened sense of sensuality and sexuality. If you need a gentle push, or if you need to quell your anxiety by asking questions you need others to reaffirm for you, email me. Write to me. No one deserves to feel alone. 

Why I Write: An Open Letter From Me to You…

Ladies and Gentleman,
I have been sitting here for the past twenty minutes trying to put into words what it means for me to write. 

Writing has been with me since I was a kid. And has evolved throughout the ages. I write a mix of genres – drama and horror and fantasy mainly – but starting this blog has seen me dive into the world of erotica. I learnt something about myself. I feel at home in the darkness, I feel the need to hone my craft, to write a compelling story, to entertain or shock.
My uni course – creative writing – I applied for that five times until the university relented.
When I was unemployed and job networks told me I couldn’t get a job in writing, that I just needed to apply for the job that they provided me with, I refused because I stubbornly believed in my dream.

And you know what? YOU are my dream. 
To be honest with you ladies and gents, I don’t think highly of myself. I’m too critical on my writing or my life. And you – the kind stranger – believe in me, which is why, in my darkest moods, I’ve decided to keep the blog and keep writing.

Why did I do Patreon? What right do I have to ask for money? My dream job was always to work as a freelance writer and I – perhaps stubbornly – thought I could attempt to live the dream – to write for the audience that has been so kind to me, and who enjoy my work. I just had to try. You guys and my writing mean the world to me. 
Even if it’s $1 a month that you pledge, that’s still $1 that will go towards my rent or my dream. It all adds up in the end and I would be eternally grateful.
Even If a handful of people, say 5, put in $1-5 each, I could work for you all from my home, in a space comforting my anxiety, on a time that suits you guys. For stories or insight into the craft or any commission. I could sit down in my study with my battered MacBook Pro and I’d be right where I feel I belong. Fulfilling my dream and giving you the greatest thing I could ever give 

In the mean time, I try not to be dissuaded. Maybe dreams are dreams, maybe I’m living in the clouds as a joker. Will I Persue my dream until it kills me? Maybe. But you don’t know how far you can go until you try. 
So I keep writing. For my kitten, my best friend, my world. For my readers, who do their part to keep the light within me alive. For myself, because creating world’s and characters and settings is like a drug I can’t quit. I need it, and need me. 
Why do I write? For her? For you? For me? What if I’m garbage? What if your responses are facades when you just spam likes without regard? 
I write because I cannot stop. Because if I didn’t, I would never learn how to get better. Because it’s therapeutic. Because I believe it’s the one good thing about me, God’s gift to me, and I have to see if the world appreciates it or whether I’m crazy.
Because we get one life and if I never started this blog, if I never tried my hand at Patreon to see if the world deemed me talented enough to pass on their hard earned cash for my stories, to support me, I would leave this world lonely and empty and dead inside.

Because it’s a part of me, twisting and turning within me. My soul. 

That’s why I write. That’s why I can’t stop trying or learning or helping you all. That’s why I started my Patreon and why I continue to mention it. 
I simply cannot, will not stop. Ever. Even if it kills me. 
Sincerely, 
TD&D

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Want me to write you a story? Want more thrilling and twisted erotica? Want to help me achieve my dream? Every dollar counts! 

View my Patreon here!

30 Days of Dominance – Day 9: Structure, Rules, Limits…

Do you set and enforce structure, rules and limits as part of your Dominance? Why or why not? How do you feel about the use of structure, rules and limits as tools used to invoke and maintain submission from your partner/s?
I like that there is structure and rules and limits established. It brings order and comfort and clarity. Boundaries are established and made known. The couple can breathe easier knowing there is a design to the relationship, something to learn and remember and respect. 
As for me, I continually set set and enforce structure, to promote discipline but also to enforce comfort within kitten’s mind. 
Her typical work day includes being dressed by me daily, reciting her mantra, and writing a good morning text to me followed by a selfie. I do the mantra because I want her to understand that even when I’m not by her side, I am always by her side. I dress her because I want her to feel secure, and because it pleases me on a sexual level and on the level of somewhat of a guardian watching over something precious

I also enforce good manners, such as using ‘please”, ‘thank you’, and if she doesn’t hear what I’ve said to her in a conversation, she is to respond with a ‘pardon’. ‘What’ or ‘Huh’ is a personal pet peeve.
That being said, I like the idea of enforcing a structure for these similar reasons, to establish the sense of intimacy and security, but also to have a continuing underlining current of discipline to satisfy that part of a dominant that desires control and order. 
As long as it’s done in a manner that is healthy and not abusive I feel at ease at the prospect of this occurrence in a D/s relationship.