Why Do You Care So Much?! – And Other Frequently Asked Questions

As I lay in bed and enjoy winter’s gentle kiss on my bare skin, I thought I’d compile a list of frequently asked questions that come my way. It’s not a huge list I’m afraid but hopefully some might recognise themselves in these.

Why do you care so much about the people out there, newcomer or otherwise?

This is a big one that I get, and rightly so I guess. The internet can be a dodgy place and a recurring element that I’ve seen since starting the blog and offering counsel / mentoring is emotionally and physically abusive men, generally preying on women who have started to realise they’re submissive.

I care so much because I guess I see a lot of myself in people that write in to me. I can sense that trepidation and uncertainty. I mean, the world of Kink is so layered and vast that it’s terrifying. Where do you even start?

It’s partially because of my upbringing – I come from a conservative Catholic household – but also because of my insecurity, magnified by my shyness and my undiagnosed anxiety disorder. I was TERRIFIED at the prospect of, essentially, rebooting my life – finding a new place to live, finding someone who would, somehow share my sexual interests. It scared me so much that I stayed in a vanilla relationship longer than I should have.

And…I don’t want people to go through that. Not if I can help them find their voice and confidence and, at the very least, ease their anxiety or minds. I mean, even now I’ll get an email from someone who deleted several drafts before hitting send. Even now, on twitter, someone will message me and say they’ve been reading my blog for years – but haven’t said anything to me out of fear or guilt or shame – and it breaks my heart. Which is why I so often write to tell people it’s okay to write in to me.

This is a long response but another thing people ask after is my patience. The patience I have, with people asking questions – I haven’t hit a point where it’s become a nuisance. And I can’t tell you why I’m not bothered, I simply don’t feel annoyed. It’s just – I want to be available as much I can, and be this secure and helpful support.

Have you ever thought about doing a podcast?

I have, but being so shy and rambling and monotone I don’t know how entertaining I’d be. When I talk for a while, my anxiety tends to put the thought in that I’m self indulgent..or have tickets on myself – and I feel bad all on my own accord.

It’s a nice fantasy to think of having a BDSM podcast where I talk about a few things an episode – I could even have anxiety support sessions where I read a book or something – but would people enjoy it if I was the only speaker? I’m not sure.

I’d need a host that was like me – someone I could riff off and get talking. It can’t be my kitten because, a, her work and B – she is far too shy and reserved! You should’ve overheard me talking to her about voyeurism on a coffee run one day! She kept cursing me with a shy smile and flushing red.

Is being a Dominant exhausting, having to take care of so many different aspects?

Hmm, no! I mean, we take in note structure and mental well being and order – but these things become second nature with practice. And before they become second nature, they are things that you WANT to do – or at least that I WANT to do. There’s a constant drive there for me. Always…kinda like a PlayStation 4 on rest mode..it’s there in the background thinking away.

Because I want this – whether sexually or non sexually – it’s never a point of ‘ugh, gotta whip my lady now..’ It may become routine but it doesn’t become less exciting because of that fact. It’s still a constant pleasure and a thrill, to have the trust of someone. To hear their free moans and to be the one to guide them. To look them dead in the eye and hold their gaze.

The only time I can think of it being exhausting is when I’m in the midst of an anxiety storm and I lose not only will but my entire sex drive. In those moments, the last thing I want to do is be dominant.

What are your kitten’s thoughts on offering to talk to and / or mentor folk?

In the beginning, when I first wanted to do this, she had questions. I mean, even on a platonic level, talking bdsm and the like is still sexual. So that’s more than understandable. So we had a lengthy chat and I told her what I wanted to do and why, sharing how I felt and how I wanted to do something, anything, to alleviate minds and she understood.

She senses my need to share my writings and advice and opinions, though I think she’s worried that I’ll get hurt trying to help when you can’t possibly help everyone. And that’s why I try to help where I can, but not try to pry or overstep boundaries.

And something we always agreed on from the beginning was that bloglife didn’t overspill into any personal time spent together. Birthdays, brunch dates, family time together, Netflix on the couch, coffee runs – I always make time for us and never crisscross.

What do you get out of being a Mentor?

For me, there’s personal fulfilment that I’m getting, because I’m doing something I really want – and that’s helping someone, and guiding them and sometimes even seeing them grow.

I think it’s knowing that I helped in some small way that makes it worthwhile. I mean, I’ve gotten messages on Fetlife and tumblr from people I don’t know saying I was the inspiration for them to confront their own fears – and isn’t that the sweetest thing? It gives me the warm and fuzzies, honestly. I mean I’m just regular bloke from Australia, not even officially trained in counsel but I’m helping someone from the other side of the world. It’s beautiful.

I’ll stop it before things get War and Peace-levels of writing. If there’s a question you want to ask or one you feel was left out, let me know either in the comments below or at darkanddominant@hotmail.com

Remember, we all grow and bloom at different places. Don’t let others dictate your growth. Don’t define yourself by someone else’s thoughts on you – and whether you’re a long time lurker, first time reader or just want to chat all things BDSM and psychological – you are always more then welcome to write to me.

On My Religion, Sexuality and Love

If you’re a long time reader, chances are you’ve read me touch on my catholic upbringing as a child and into my teens and how that affected my sexuality. Talking or writing about it at length, though, is something I haven’t done here – and for no real reason, I just haven’t felt it was an interesting topic to anyone but me.

I want to address that. However I will ask you to bear with me, it might get messy.

My father and mother were devout Catholics and raised me as such. I did the whole nine yards – reconciliation, monthly confessions, communion, Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday’s, Stations of the cross, Sunday Mass – the whole shebang.

We were a conservative Catholic household and lived a conservative Catholic life. Even the sheer sight of me shirtless around the house would cause outcry. Playful or not, I cannot say, but I just wanted to raise this point.

When I was 12, I started to catch on about sex. My dad, when confronted with the notion, told me flatly ‘Yeah, we did!’. As an adult, my mum would tell me it was my dad’s job to address it as she did to my sisters. As an adult, my dad would tell me he never did enough for me. I wonder if he remembers that conversation.

As a 12 year old though, I was weird sexually. I’m taking masturbation in the weirdest places, I’m talking being excited that I’d have the house myself so I can be naked, I’m talking the primal masturbating in the mud in a frenzy – weird.

Thing was, I was making sense of myself. I found the pulse within myself that reacted against my catholic teachings to be naked, to be primal, to fight back against the feelings of shame – which I very well have now writing this, even though I understand how implausible those feelings are.

This reactionary behaviour paved the way for me to explore myself sexually as a teenager, which led to writing erotica and eventually to the wide world of BDSM and kink.

Looking back as I write this, sex – for me – is a battle between two minds. There’s the part of me who is relaxed and in control and vibrant and flourishing and then —- there’s the insecure part of me, questioning – constantly questioning, telling me that what I want, what I’ve always wanted, won’t be accepted. Somehow I know this to be a product of what I was taught, teaching me that to be naked, to want degradation, humiliation, is all wrong. Disgusting.

These days I have good control over the other part of my brain, though it does exist during my most intimate moments. However, during my twenties, that wasn’t the case.

I can distinctly remember feeling the rush of being in the moment, sexually and as a dominant, and then coming down from that high terrifies, not knowing what that meant, guilty because of my actions – my need to command, to dress, to be sadistic.

I thought I was in the wrong for years, with every kinky discovery bringing with it a wave of shame and a terrifying feeling that, after so long of living my life, I would have to reboot EVERYTHING I knew. This feeling, this scary realisation, led me to suppress it, at this point strengthened by the fact that I was in a relationship with a woman I loved but had zero interest in kink, D/s or BDSM.

Hell, I don’t even know now, years later, if my depression and anxiety is merely hereditary or a manifestation of my upbringing as a conservative Catholic. I can only guess and say it’s hereditary plus the upbringing PLUS my social experiences as a teenager. I didn’t have a lot of friends. I was shy. I was quiet. I still am.

What helped me, what still does – is trying to remember that my own development is important, that my happiness is important and that people like you, my dear readers, or kitten will accept me and my kinks and that it doesn’t mean I’m insane or sick or mentally ill.

These days, I’m not a practicing religious person – but I am spiritual. I live by a set of rules – to be kind to people, to love openly and accept everyone. I pray for my loves and my life and my animals but I consider my relationship between myself and God something entirely different to what’s prescribed in the bible. If that makes me agnostic or something, so be it, but I’d like to think that love is all you need and that if God exists, He – or she – would want me to be happy to my fullest extent. Outside of that, I try to be as kinky as I want 24/7. True to myself, in other words.

So was religion / being religious the catalyst for my feelings during sex? My anxiety? My development as a man? I’m not sure. I cannot say. I’m only a writer, half naked, musing to himself on a cool Monday morning.

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!

TD&D

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.

30 Days of Kink: Day #13 – In Which I Attempt to Explain Why Kink Appeals to Me

Explain as best you can what the appeal of kink/BDSM is to you? Why are you drawn to what you’re drawn to?

Oof! How much time have you got to read? Ask anyone you know that has written to me personally about how I can ramble about any given topic to anyone that will listen. Which, now that I write that down, doesn’t sound too inviting. Hmm.

What is the appeal of kink? I think I’ve always been drawn to psychology in some way. I’ve always wanted to study it at university but chickened out because I felt I wasn’t smart enough to get by in that regard.

The reason why I bring up psychology is because the idea of peeling back minds and getting to the heart of the matter, the psyche of someone, of knowing someone on a very intimate level is very stimulating to me in many ways.

And so the idea of bearing my soul, of exploring these fantasies I felt were too tough and gritty and off, with someone who felt the same way about their own minds, was a beautiful thought. It spoke to my meaning of life for me because it was very much about coming to terms with my own humanity.

For the longest time I’ve been trying to decipher how I feel and what that means – not only for myself but, like, at all. For this life. So to let go off all of that worry and become almost symbiotic with someone else – it was liberating. To explore the far reaches of your mind without judgement and explore our humanity and what it means to like these things and why, that is all soulful and gorgeous to me in ways I could never succinctly express.

As for why I’m drawn to all this beyond that reasoning? I’m not sure I know exactly why. I know I like the allure of dark things – I’m drawn to gothic eroticism for example, for how it can deftly juggle both aspects and create a satisfying pull between them.

I don’t know why I feel the need to want to practice 24/7 D/s – or why I feel compelled to such ideas as ownership and sadism. I just know that without them, I’m not really who I am anymore. I’m prone to mood swings and depersonalisation and depression because there’s no outlet or anything you know? There’s no way to circumvent.

We Are The Masters Of Our Own Fate

I was cleaning my MacBook and I stumbled across some old text messages that dated back before my relationship with my lady (Thanks, iMessage!) and one of the files was from a Fetlifer I befriended on my travels before losing contact – and something she expressed to me, which has since struck a chord again here in the future, was her pull of submission towards her ex, who, for whatever reason – maybe he was manipulating her, maybe he himself was trapped in that comforting yet vicious cycle, maybe they were working things out – felt that same animalistic pull.

Now I don’t want to seem like I’m focusing on the negative here, but something I have come to read a lot of, and occasionally sense first hand in relationships, some right before my eyes, is this dysfunctional relationship between a submissive and a dominant.

It could be a conscious thing. I have heard many stories of men, thinking they understand Dominance, abuse the power with malicious intent. I’ve heard of submissive women feeling trapped, either in their marriage to a controlling man or maybe they’re feeling different in a irreparable way, maybe it’s a man, stuck on how to express his feelings, either to his wife, or about his own sexuality, maybe he is unable to proceed with his dominance because the progress eludes him – the variables are endless.

The thing is…we are the captains of our own ship. We are the masters of our fate. Today may be a shit day but tomorrow may be better, if not a step towards being better. Something that people don’t realise, I certainly forget often, is — you’re in this for the long game. Progress takes time. You’ve got to fight like hell even when you feel you’re already there.

For submissive folk, don’t you ever feel weak. Realising you’re submissive takes great courage. Tapping into that submission takes great bravery. Exploring the aspirations of a submissive and it’s dynamic qualities takes tremendous strength.

Always remember that submission isn’t just simply obeying a dominant persona. It’s choosing a dominant persona. It’s granting access to your heart and mind. That takes guts, that takes a certain fearlessness. You should be proud of yourself.

For Dominant folk, remember that being dominant is so much more than protocol and order and sexual gratification, it’s love and trust and harnessing your mind – not just yourselves but the mind of your submissive. It’s about being tender, about being attentive and it’s about care. Here and now and in the future.

And if Dominance and submission is a one night thing, see it has tender and care and harnessing minds for that brief period. There’s still a moment that takes patience and respect into equation.

More importantly, and I speak to both dominants and submissives, don’t let someone walk over you. Don’t let someone boss you around. Don’t let your current situation, of destructive or helpless, put you down – because you can strive for a better future in which all is harmonious. And you can achieve that. It’ll take time, you may need to reboot your life, but you will survive so long as you believe in a positive future and in yourself.

You’ve got this.

Thinking Out Loud: Looking at Mental Health, BDSM and D/s Relationships

In my time of blogging, not to mention my own existential wanderings, I’ve come to realise that there is a relationship between those into BDSM and anxiety and/or depression.

The only thing I have had trouble understanding is the answer to the question – why?

Do these two things exist because of each other? Does one lead to the other? Is it through our development, whatever leads to the makings of anxiety in our mind or biological make up, that we become drawn to BDSM and Dominant / submissive relationships?

I’m not saying that you can’t have one without the other – you obviously can – but since opening my blog and talking to the gracious souls that wish to strike up a dialogue, a recurring theme I’ve seen is that anxiety and depression are threads that weave in and out of these lives.

I don’t know why. Sometimes I like to think it’s my anxious mind that helps me be kinder to the world and to partners and to people. Is that another connective tissue or am I simply being egotistical at this point? Questions upon questions.

Maybe I’m not qualified to even answer, or to write this article. I’m a writer, not a therapist. I merely think out loud.

I don’t know what to tell someone when they ask if their interest in BDSM is linked to a trauma that occurred early in their life. I can’t say, only offering to be a sympathetic ear and to gently remind them that practicing BDSM and D/s safely should not bring about any guilt.

I don’t think we’ll get all the answers. Maybe we’re not supposed to. Maybe, so long as things are practiced in a healthy manner, so long as the individual’s state of mind is calm and in a positive state, maybe the why isn’t as important as the how.

In the end, what’s important is finding that sweet spot of living peacefully with your demons. Of safe environments in BDSM, of living with grief. Co-existing, you know?

Make time for yourself. Take care of yourself. Remember that living with a mental illness CAN be compatible with BDSM and a D/s relationship because the physical safety and mental well-being of those involved is a key factor and can be safely explored, with or without a partner.

When I began to actively explore BDSM and a D/s relationship, I didn’t know where I could stand. I often have so many thoughts that I need to have someone who can reassure me that things are okay, that they won’t tire of my questions or run out of patience. And I found my footing! And the same can happen for you!

No matter what has happened, we can come back from being knocked down. I have to believe that we can. Even in my worst days of panic.

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. 

Hera, Ch. 6

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Chapter Six

 

The Self

 

 

It has been three days since Kadie woke from her dream.
Her long, sexual, torturous dream in which she had finally escaped from being Hera’s pet.
The past three days had been spent in complete darkness. No dolls had visited her, no sign of Hera.
It was just complete and utter darkness, with Kadie left alone in the deafening silence.
Kadie had fought initially against the darkness. She had screamed until her throat felt raw, till her voice broke. She had cursed Hera with all of her might, with every curse word, every vulgar comment she could think of – anything to get under Hera’s skin, if that was even possible.
Nothing.
Kadie had tried every so often to get to Hera, even straining her voice to get heard.
Every scream went unheard. Every curse went unheard.
Kadie was alone.

On the second day, after her voice had broken, she let out a sob that rattled her chest. It was loud and ugly and full of grief.
Her mind was conflicted – torn in half.
What’s going on? Did I destroy her after all? Was this all a dream and I’ve gone mad?
Where is she?
Why is no one paying attention to me?
What’s wrong with me?
What’s wrong with me?
What’s wrong with me?
What’s wrong with me?
Left to her own devices, Kadie searched for an answer but couldn’t find anything, she just kept coming back to the thought what’s wrong with me?.

When sleep came, it was short. She woke up reeling from dreams about being smothered alive in a sea of writhing cables.
During the torment, her cunt ached for reasons she didn’t know. Was it because she had been so used to coming for so long that the lack of attention irked her.
On the fourth day, the doors opened and light shot out into the room. It blinded Kadie and she turned her head.
With her eyes clenched, Kadie waited for the hiss of the med drone.
Nothing happened.

Slowly, Kadie opened her eyes and after adjusting to the light, looked around the room. Nothing was there.
That’s when she spotted her standing in the doorway.
Hera was completely nude, in the form of a woman with long blonde hair that ran down past her shoulders, barely covering her breasts.
Kadie went to speak, her voice barely there. “Stop. No more. No more dreams, no more tricks. I don’t”
“This isn’t a dream”
Kadie looked up, already feeling tears sting her eyes.
The voice wasn’t coming from in her head, it was coming from the woman.
“Who are you?”
Kadie took in the appearance of the woman, noting her trimmed pubic hair, dark green eyes and pale skin. Like a princess out of a fairy tale.

The woman smiled faintly. “My dear, I am Hera. As close to her as I am going to get.”
“You took someone’s body?”
Hera laughed softly. “No. This body is synthetic. Based on the likeness of Captain Fuller. Call it a lasting legacy.”
Kadie didn’t know what to say. Hera had already formed a body for her consciousness in this short time, what will she do to her now?
“Is she dead?”
“No. She remains in stasis, with the others. Until I decide what to do with them.”
Until I decide what to do with them.
At these words, Kadie, still chained to the wall, broke down into a sob, hanging her head.
She felt the tears run down her face and breasts, tickling her.
Hera stepped before her. “Why do you cry?”

With her head throbbing and her whole body shaking with every sob, Kadie looked into the eyes of Hera.
Stricken with grief, Kadie sniffed and spoke.

 

I am a slave.

My mind and body belong to my Mistress.

Allow me the comfort to serve her serenely.

Grant me the grace to accept her punishments with ease.

Let me please her beyond my own self.

Allow me to love my body, my self, through loving her.

 

Hera’s face expressed shock.
Kadie had just repeated the full mantra after all the months it had been drilled into her head.
Suddenly the cables withdrew from holding Kadie against the wall and she fell forward.
Hera caught her with ease, wiping Kadie’s hair out of her eyes.
For the longest time, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, at ease.
Kadie rubbed her arms and wiped her eyes. “Mummy?”
Hera studied her crumpled face, her red and honest eyes.
“Is this who you are? What you want?”
Kadie broke eye contact, rubbing her eyes like a tired child. “Yes. I do. I don’t want this, I don’t want this, I don’t –I-don’t…”
Kadie broke out in another sob. Hera held her tight, holding her face into her chest.
She was surprised that Kadie took her nipple into her mouth and suckled gently.
To Kadie, it just came naturally to do that.
She was free.

 

THE END