12 Days of Kinkmas – Day #2 – ‘Cult of Helen’

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Jodie came awake with a wheeze that rattled her entire body.
Her mouth was dry, her head dizzy and her vision was black.
Arms felling like jelly, she braced herself to push forward and sit up, but something strikingly cold tore at her wrists and sent her backwards.
A creeping sensation of cold began to sweep over her entire body, like her mind was only just catching up with processing. The same cool shackles tied her legs and her body….she was naked, completely naked.
Wherever she was, she felt the chill skirt up her thighs and across the curves of her breasts.

A strangled cry came tunnelling up her throat and out, wheezing into the space she seemed to be confined in.
“Sisters, lights please. She is awake.”
One by one by one lights flickered into existence – tiny blazing spots of orange all over the room.
Candles, Jodie thought, squinting, thankful she wasn’t blind. Candles illuminating women all around her. Women of all shapes and sizes and ethnicities. Each of them completely naked, bearing collars around their necks that linked a chain down to…
Jodie squinted…
Clamps attached to their nipples.

With the room fully lit, Jodie looked around, trying desperately to make sense of her surroundings. She was in a basement…no…an abandoned warehouse? Something dark and dank and dilapidated that smelt damp and stale.
Jodie looked to her left, found women, chained, nude, blank.
She looked to her right, found women, chained, nude, and blank.
Her mind fuzzy, she tried to get a hold of how she got there. It was the Christmas holidays and she had stayed behind at university instead of going home for Christmas because….
She racked her brain, what was it, what was it? Because she couldn’t afford it.
What else happened?
“Sister Melanie, would you like to begin?”
Melanie. Melanie was her dorm roommate. Melanie invited her to a party in the city. Melanie…drugged her?
“Thank you, Sister Tahnee.”

Jodie looked down her body at Melanie who stood at the end of the table Jodie was tied to.
The sight of Melanie, nude and chained like the rest, kicked her stomach into overdrive. She felt bile rising along with a wave of nausea.
Melanie was watching her and Jodie was looking back, unable to look away from her friend’s bare form.
Melanie was always pretty, came a thought to Jodie. Lightly tanned, piercing dark eyes. Her body seemed to match what Jodie saw before, her nipples and pubic hair as dark as her eyes and hair. Jodie felt a need to laugh, a terrible manic need, and silenced it.
“Sisters. We are gathered here in the name of-““
Melanie, what is this? A Prank?”
Melanie paused, looked at her, arms folded behind her back.
A beat – then she bowed her head.
“A-am I part of some haze?”
“She speaks” Said the woman named Tahnee impatiently.
“Mm, she has pluck” Said another voice, an older, weathered voice.
“She will do splendid then.” Came a third voice, low and flat.
“This isn’t f-funny, anymore.”
“Hera.” Tahnee commanded.
Footsteps approached, growing louder.
Before Jodie could find the words to object, her vision was snuffed out.
“Hey! No, Listen!”
Words tumbled out to grab someone, anyone’s attention, as her heart went into overdrive, but Jodie was left to the darkness, left silenced by the cloth now between her lips.
It was at that point, at the touch of the cloth on her lips, that panic sizzled hot and quick through her body, twisting and turning its way from the pit of her stomach out her lungs. She screamed.
It felt like a bomb going off in her head, shattering both sides of the mind, with all contents left to tumble out the hole in her head.
She felt tears in her eyes, there out of nowhere; as the sting from the object reverberated across her nipples, pain radiating outwards.

Somewhere Melanie continued to speak.
“…Sisters of Helen, we are gathered here….”
Jodie wriggled on the spot, feeling the chains carve into her wrists, burning. She could feel her drool pooling in her mouth, could feel the dampness of the room give it a cooling effect.
“….in celebration of the life of Helen of Sparta, Our one true Goddess…”
Jodie felt her legs start to buckle under the strain of moving out of the equipment that held her still.
Scathing, scalding, searing pain tore its way out from between her legs where the object, wooden it felt, wooden and coarse, had struck her.
Panic-fuelled pain tore through her body, the tail end of it being a tinge of pleasure – guilty, sickening pleasure.
“Before the feast commences, I would like to ask you all to bow your head in prayer.”
With that, Melanie fell quiet, leaving Jodie alone with the chilly silence.
She wanted to ask if they would kill her – and eat her – as part of this feastbut the pain across her tits and stinging lips held her in check. She didn’t want anymore.
A beat — then:
“Goddess, we give thanks for your wisdom, beauty and fertility.”
A murmur spread through the crowd, hushed and quickly.

“Sister Abigail. Begin. ” Came an older voice.
The one named Abigail cleared her throat. “Yes, Sister.”
Footsteps shuffled across the floor. Something unzipped, all the way around.
Jodie felt a whimper come out through her wet lips and suppressed it.
Silence followed, then: “We hope this soul appeases, O Goddess.”
They’re gunna kill me, Jodie whimpered. She struggled, tried to move, tried to kick her legs free. She could see it now in her minds – she could do it, she could run out of there, where ever there is. No matter of nudity.
That’s when she felt it – the cool metal object, slick and soft, ease into her ass, feeding into her, feeding off of her, filling her in a way that was uncomfortable yet came with an uneasiness that was exciting.
The toy in her ass seemed to lock her in a state of suspended animation. Jodie’s body stiffened, the pain across her body now giving way to the toy easing in and out of her ass, as gentle as could be.
The motion seemed to ignite the sting on her lips, coiling around her clit, snaking across every inch and setting it ablaze.
She was wet now, the breeze in the dank room solidified this fact.
How long the room was silent, how long this toy, handled by whoever, was slinking in and out of her ass with such gentle ease, she knew not. Time seemed to melt away, and her body and her worries melted with it.
Nothing existed but her and this toy – the toy that collapsed her mind, that spilled out both sides of her mind. The toy that locked her in place.

Jodie caught herself easing into the toy, savouring the feeling of drool pooling around her nipples, feeling…what? She didn’t know. No one had ever taken her ass before, Christ.
When her orgasm came, it sent jagged edges of pain mixed with pleasure across her glazed-with-sweat body. In her trembles, her anus squeezed shut around the toy, holding it in place, intensifying it, bringing wave after wave after wave of slithering shameful pleasure.
There was a click from around the room, but Jodie paid it no mind, she wrestled with the toy in her ass, wrestled with her mind.
When a second toy came to rest against her clit, sending vibrating pulse after pulse, Jodie let out a cry, wet, thick with phlegm. It travelled down her body in waves and in pools, sticky and sweet and relentless.
“Melanie, as the sister whose role it was to bring an offering this year, you may have first taste, praise Helen.”
“Praise Helen…”

Jodie had wrestled with breaking free of the pain and pleasure and orgasm, had wrestled with running free of this whackjob band of women, but when she felt Melanie’s mouth cover the entirety of her cunt, when she felt her tongue run across her slit and taste her, something within her broke, and she wasn’t Jodie anymore.

 

The healing power of BDSM 

  

It’s 10-24pm on a rather toasty Friday night and I’m lounging nude in bed.I wanted to write on my blog so right now, my phone is lit up in front of my face. All I can hear is the relaxed breathing of my pet as the lonely cricket chirps outside.
What I wanted to write to you all about is this:
BDSM has grown to become something like a religion to me. I connect to it spiritually, it guides me in life and in many ways has changed my life – for the better.
It’s not just about spanking her – or that she likes being called a whore when I come on her face. It’s not about the punishment. If anything, it’s about the love. It’s about the guidance.
I mean, yeah – It’s pretty sexual. I’m a guy with a ridiculous sex drive. I’m horny as fuck right now, I’m writing with a hard on. I’d ride my sweet honey were I not under my parents house right now and abiding by their rules. But that’s off topic – yes, sexuality plays a part. A huge part. But there’s something else there and it’s HEALED my mind.
In my mind, BDSM isn’t just about sex and bruises. It’s soulful and deep and intimate. It’s about connecting with people and finding this bond. This deep itch you both have that sets you apart from the others. It’s about finding who you are. 
Lord knows I’d worship a BDSM shrine if there was one. I’d have my pet kneel before it as I stroke her head before cleansing her with my come. That’s beautiful to me as much as it is ‘fucking hot’.
I don’t know, ladies and gents, I just feel very deeply about it.
I read this article, I’ll post it in edit later when I get to a computer. It stated BDSM is a useful practice for people with anxiety. And they’re right in my case. Being a sufferer of an anxiety disorder and rarely going a day where I don’t analyse if I’m good enough to lead (joy of irrational fear), I get this completely. Leading, teaching obedience and discipline and having this soul under your protection – it really does heal me. It helps especially the more ‘brutal’ we become – though this does not mean I take things out on her. I know my line and though I push it, I push it so with her ALWAYS in the front of my mind.
Anxiety needs an outlet, right? Well when I simply lay with her under my leash. Well, I’m calm. I’m still. It’s like everything has fallen into place. 
BDSM has probably saved my life. I’m not exaggerating. Before I decided to become a 24/7 Dominant – or that I decided to just transform into who I was meant to be, I felt like something was missing. I couldn’t pinpoint what. This lead to me becoming irritable and moody.

In the back of my mind, I knew I wanted it but in that time, I was too scared to approach my then long time partner about because having done so early in that relationship she was completely uninterested. It was a blow but I stuck to it, you know? That was what love was about. But that was toxic for me. I was unhappy. And when she decided she wanted another man and left, I was hurt and distraught. But I knew that she did what I was scared to do. And though I had pain to work through, I was also on the path to becoming Dominant. Only I didn’t know it then.
Much later, after getting to know my pet and having that love grow, I feel rested. I feel at peace. I feel, finally, happy. Anxiety will have me pacing but when my mind is clear, I’m happy. D/s relationship and BDSM are now aspects of my day and with it, I grow and learn every day. Friends and family have said I’m brighter now, more livelier. I can’t tell all of them that I whip her ass and she giggles, some won’t understand. 
So BDSM healed me. It’s changed my life. 
Anyway. Now I’m rambling. If you’ve made it this far, I just wanted to say thank you to you all. Who could I write to if it weren’t for you all? What would I do? You guys (and ladies ) are the best.
As always, I’m here for a chin wag if you need it. If I haven’t replied to an email, it’s my damned connection. So rest assured I haven’t got it so if it’s been a few days – give me three at most in case I’m busy or anxious – send again. I never ever ignore. Not the folk that go out of their way to message. Never ever. So Never hesitate, never fear! 
So from toasty Australia, goodnight, sweet dreams, let the bed bugs bite hard and torture and I look forward to hearing from you all! 
 

Religion, Sexuality and BDSM

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For some people, what I am going to talk about is going to be uncomfortable so I want to open with this: I’m using this blog as a platform for my thoughts and as such, you don’t have to agree with them. Hopefully, you can still go on to read them, maybe even have your mind changed. But these are my thoughts as I’ve lived my life and my experiences.

I was raised Catholic. I was taught BDSM and such dark thoughts weren’t proper. I come from a conservative family and should I visit my parent’s with my pet, we still have to sleep in different beds as we are not married. Though I am religious, I don’t strictly follow everything the bible tells me to. If I did, I couldn’t live an open and free life, that’s plain and simple.

But you know why this is? Because man has engineered religion that way. Now, I don’t want to spark a religion debate. Do whatever  it is that makes you happy. My belief is ancient and simple: Treat each other with kindness. Believe in God. Believe that he accepts you how you are because that is how he made you.

So, embrace who you are. Love who you are and never ever hide it.

A reader contacted me outside of my blog and expressed both her interest in being with another woman and her fear for going against her religion. Yet, that desire still remained. Perhaps I’ve been ‘unplugged’ too long, or maybe I adhere to a very loose but basic spirituality. Would God want you to be in that turmoil? I can’t answer that question and neither can anyone else but the man himself. Yet wouldn’t you think that He would want you to embrace yourself and ascend? I mean, isn’t this THE THING? Isn’t our humanity, our very life, just our time to walk to either ascension or eternal damnation? I’d like to think that the path to ascension is the one I am on, the one YOU are on. If you’re reading my blog, maybe you’re already half way there.

It angers me, you know? To find someone so afraid of taking that step, in this example – to explore their sexuality – because they were afraid of their religion, which is essentially years and years of teachings passed down from parent to child in an endless cycle of guilt and fear. Is that religion? Is  that God and love? To me, that feels like a trap. To me, I don’t stick to a lot of the bible states because I believe in my spirituality and my right to stay good and kind and just. I most certainly will mock-rape my pet but I’ll also be kind to my fellow man at the grocery store or take my time to look after my pets.

I guess what I am saying is: Be yourself. Don’t be afraid to walk that path or otherwise it will come out of you in negative ways. That I’ve learnt in my life. And doesn’t that sound counter-productive? You avoid doing what you believe is ‘negative’ and it backfires?

You were made how you are for a reason. Listen to your heart, disappear into your desires and remember to be kind. Otherwise then you really will go down the dark forest and you risk the chance of becoming repressed.

As always, my email is open 24/7. Questions, comments – if you want to, send them my way. I am always here to help and to chat. Until then, I’ll leave you with this tantalising imagery.

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