There Are No Words

At 4am this morning, I woke from a dream so incredibly detailed, with its own mythology and the like, that I scrambled for my phone and jotted down 1,372 tired words. I’ve read over it just now, having woken later in the morning, and have left it unedited and untouched, save for some spelling mistakes and sentences that didn’t make sense. What you will read is something I’ve written while not entirely awake, my hand pulled along by forces beyond this world.

I know some of you enjoy looking into the mind of the process or the writer or even ME, so I hope this intrigues you at the very least.

I can remember her taking my face in her hands, and looking at me with those deep blue eyes. My god, how deep and blue and expansive they are. How kind and thoughtful they are. Oceans. They are the sea.

I see her eyes flicker but before I can contemplate what that means, she’s leaning in to kiss me deeply.

Christ, her lips are so soft. They seem to sink right into my own lips. As if merging together.

I can feel my heart leap in my chest.

As she holds the kiss, as I hold the kiss, I suddenly see everything. I see her ass, lily white and gorgeous, I see her free of the shackles of her past life. I see her freedom. And it makes my heart pound in my chest.

When she pulls away, I feel like I know her more through that kiss. As if, through the act, a bond was created – and we fused.

She has to wipe the dark curl of hair from her eyes. Or I do.

I want to but I can’t look away from those deep, mesmerising eyes. I feel like I know her more now, know her better.

She kisses me again suddenly, deeper, harder. My stomach flips in excitement – or is that her excitement I feel, now that we are bonded. Now that my emotion is shared through the bond and hers is shared in my mind.

A sense of understanding. That’s what it is.

I can feel her soft hands on my face, cradling me, as if she wanted this for a while.

I want to tell her to be free, like I know she wants to be. There’s a side to her that I can sense. I want to scream it at her beautiful blue eyes, even as I wipe her dark curls out of her face.

Do what you want, what you must, for the freedom of your soul, for your health, but I know the truth. She senses it too now, my weirdness. My indulgence. I’m encroaching on something.

The other women around me don’t seem to mind our shared kiss. They wait patiently in silence, or do they observe? And if they observe, what do they see? Did I get it all wrong, terribly wrong? But that can’t be! She kissed me. I sense her. I sense her so strongly.

One by one hand, their hands lower me down to the cool metal table. How many women are there? Well, there’s the vampire – I know that. Blonde hair, ice blue eyes. There’s the girl in the hoody with the kind eyes. There’s the fiery redhead in the singlet with the rosy cheeks.

Somehow I know they’re actually all vampires. Except me and her. She who regards me with her deep blue eyes as big as the moon.

Does he know how lucky he is to have her?Where is he anyway?

As if on cue, he wanders into the small room, eyes ablaze. There’s fury.

In a heartbeat, before he can see, she tears her hands away from mine – somewhere along my counting of how many women there are around me, she took my hands in hers.

I didn’t even finish counting anyway. There’s more than three. They’re all gathered around me in a circle, her included.

I can feel her through the bond, I can tell she wants to undress and be naked. I can tell that’s how she likes to be. It comes in a flash in my mind, and I can see her walking along her natural habitat – a forest – completely nude, grass crunching beneath her feet.

“For a little extra you can become a vampire.” A woman at the end of the table says. She’s looking at me with tired eyes that seem to sag in their sockets. She’s dressed all in black, even with a black robe. The tattooist.

I shake my head. “No, thank you, just the tattoo. Like hers.”

I point to the woman with the kind eyes. She’s watching me closely, a smile across her ruby red lips. Out of all the women that have taken up residence in my home since my partner left, this one has spent the most time talking to me.

On her chest, above her breasts, she has a tattoo of a symbol that’s foreign to me. I couldn’t begin to describe it. I only know I want it on my chest.

And it just so happens one of the women in this wonderful, warm tribe, is an artist of the tattooing kind.

When did I get so lucky, to have this support from all these beautiful women around me? All these endlessly kind beings? I’d tip my hat if I wore one. I’m afraid the only thing I wear is my heart on my sleeve ever since she left me. Five years gone and cheated on me the past few months for some bloke with dark features, same as me. What did I have that he didn’t? Why did that draw the attention of a tribe of men and women into my home and why do they support me endlessly in this relationship breakdown?

May the party live forever.

I know she senses my thoughts because she frowns to herself. That or it’s because he’s circling her, his eyes on her as he joins her to her right, where he perches like a bird or a ghost or a bodyguard. I can’t decide which. I’m sure he didn’t think about this possibility when he, too, came into my home. I certainly didn’t expect to spark her interest. I’m not even sure she would talk to me if I didn’t talk to her first. The only thing I know about her is that she’s not a vampire like the others and that her wonderful eyes are as big as the moon.

Do I regret the kiss? I’m not sure, to be entirely honest. My heart and mind and very soul still rages at the recent betrayal of my ex. I mean, after she came clean about the affair, she still wanted to suckle on my cock while the others finger fucked her into a delirious state.

We all knew she did it to pass the time – her family was picking her up, her bags were packed – but we still did this. We all did this.

So there’s rage behind my willingness, that I’ll admit, but when she placed my face in her hands and kissed me that first time, I wasn’t just hypnotised, I was mesmerised. Because I could feel her thoughts. I could sense that she wanted to silence my pain as much she wanted to silence hers.

Does that make me a bad person?

There’s no fear in me when the women hold my legs down and apart. I trust these new friends of mine. They did offer me vampirism after all. They even wanted to charge me! But no, this was about the tattoo. The tattoo that would mark my pain and hurt forever, the tattoo that would bond me to these traveling nomads, friends for life.

Some of them, like her, had boyfriends. They were grouped in one room of the house watching tv and drinking. Eventually they would retire to their rooms and sleep, snoring softly.

The circle of women talk amongst themselves. Some of them banter. It makes me smile. They must’ve been traveling together for so long they’ve made friendships for life. Is this what this tattoo is? Am I part of the tribe?

I feel her soft hand on my arm and meet her eyes. There’s something else there now. A wound of sorts flickers behind her eyes. But who would wound the moon? Who?

Despite this, it’s a shy smile she gives me and it makes my heart race. I close my eyes and feel her warmth rising through the bond. It makes me smile too.

Pent Up

Being at my folks for Christmas is a beautiful thing I’ll cherish forever, but being isolated in rural countryside is tapping into my animalistic spirit. I want to run, I need to run. It’s clawing at me. And I can’t help but claw at my kitten, only for her to behave, out of respect for my family and our thin walls around the bedroom we are staying in.

I’m looking forward to getting back to my own house and claiming my lady so hard to make up for all the lost time. I need to mark my territory, shoot my load all over till I’m spent. I can’t stand looking into her eyes, which flicker with submission, and being unable to take her.

Those big, beautiful blue eyes as she looks up at me. I know she feels it. I can sense that in her. I hope I make her as soaked at times as she makes me achingly hard.

The thing is, something stops me – from masturbating in the shower, from taking her. Is she daring me? Is she teasing me? Does she secretly want me to take control? I feel I know her tones by now but sometimes the animal in me wonders.

God, if it wasn’t so crowded, I would tear off my clothes and go running through the acres of land my parents have, panting, sweating, clawing, seething, growling. I want to peel those clothes off till I see your bare, pale ass, till I see the animal hidden underneath – the animal no one else knows. I want to lay you down on the grass and inhale your scent till the presence of me before your sensitive pussy lips can’t handle it anymore and starts to soak, starts to drip. I want to break through sense and reason and reality and take us beyond this world and into something and somewhere else. Ascension? An alternate reality? Take me, O take me fucking there, please gods and goddesses of the wild. I pledge to you my heart and mind and cock and body. I want to slide right into her without warning, to hear her gasp and squeak. To fill her like she hasn’t been filled before.

But. That will come. Time to wear my mask and be in plain sight hiding.

Displaced In Time: Musing On The 1950s Household in D/s

I’ve always had a fascination with the concepts of the 1950s household and how it relates to BDSM and the D/s relationship.

I’ve always had a fascination with the 1950s itself – the music, the fashion, the cars, the movies (give me a B movie or an old fashioned suspense thriller anytime) and the relationships between men and women behind closed doors. What facades did they present to society? What did they hide behind closed doors?

I’ve copped criticism from some people within the community for my interest in the 1950s household / power exchange D/s relationship – mostly because of what came with the 1950s – sexism, bigotry, abuse – so I’ve strayed from talking about it. But you see, I’ve started to realise two things – 1, never let someone criticise you unfairly and 2, if two people in a D/s relationship agree to a TPE in the context of a 1950s household, they shouldn’t be shamed for it. Agree to disagree, all that jazz.

The idea of a 1950s household can be separated into two different aspects – the look of the age – clothing, old sitcoms, vintage furniture – to the feel of the age – dinners at the table, a man holding the door open for a lady, etiquette and discipline and structure.

I don’t think the aim of it is to take it back to the reality of the 1950s but more capture that longing in your bones for what it represented – like innocence, love and simplicity.

And I think, for me, that’s what appeals to my soul personally – a sense of joy and wonder and a love that runs deep for the aesthetic and mood. I often feel like I’ve been displaced in time so this is a warm concept to me.

As a dominant, it’s enticing to think of a submissive woman in this period and the different sides of her life. The different sides of her mind. It’s a beautiful, thrilling thing to earn the trust of someone and see a side that few see. It’s sexy, even, to think on ALL that that includes. From mannerisms to personality to desires.

I would love to write a multi-arc story about a couple exploring the dynamic, as a period piece. It would be fascinating for me to write and research.

November AMA!

I’ve had a lot of questions come my way of late so I figured I’d post some of them here!

As always, if you have any questions, you are more than welcome to get in touch!

On Writing

Do you write in one go or over the course of a long period of time, returning to it?

Sometimes I’ll write in one go. I’ve written stories for the blog like that. They’ll come to me out of nowhere and I’ll write them in one sitting – but if they’re bigger, I’ll break it off in chunks and spread them out over the week. Sometimes even longer.

I usually aim for 2,000 words a day. I’ll write more if I get lost in the story but I aim for 2k, knowing that I can stop there if I’m feeling drained and I can still feel like I have accomplished something in the day.

Do you take notes first or make a structure or do you just sit down to write and see what happens?

I take a tonne of notes – things that never even make the final story. It’s weird because I’ll plan out the setting like I’m building a house. So – say I have a scene with two characters living in an apartment, right? I’ll design the floor plan of the house – in my head, not in actuality – so I have a mental guide I can flesh out and narrate.

I also sketch out profiles on characters – their flaws, backstories, tastes, favourite novels. Even if it doesn’t get in there, it helps me build a character as I write the story.

I usually plan out a draft structure for chapters – but only the basic bullet points for what I want to hit. I like to freeform write so I leave s little room for spontaneous writing where voices and ideas come to me that I never planned for but let them breathe anyway.

Do you edit lots?

I try to. It’s a sin that I don’t do it enough. There is so much I read to proofread on the blog but there’s so also so much that escapes my busy eye so easily! It’s crazy.

So I apologise if I piss off some of you.

How much of what you write sees the light of day?

Hmmmm. More then 50%, I know that much.

There’s a lot that I put onto the blog, that are my genuine, raw fantasies unprocessed – but then some get drafted on my phone that I feel are too weird or too dark or even too personal.

I sometimes get worried I’ll go too far or I’ll sound too weird or mopey and I just leave it to sit on my phone. Case in point – the story about a teenage girl walking home from a party and being sexually assaulted by a possessed tree.

But I’ve also written this really vulnerable thing during an anxiety attack that I never posted because there’s always a fear of rejection I guess.

How do you write in terms of surroundings? music? place? time of day? do you write alone?

I have to write alone. In complete silence. I need to be able to transport my mind to the scene so I can see and hear and taste and all of those other weird writer things. Generally, though, I write for the blog during the night or curled up in bed naked.

Writing naked is therapeutic in a way and makes me feel comfortable and liberated enough to write freely. If that makes sense.

Sometimes I’ll write curled up in bed, if it’s a rainy day and the rain is pelting down on the window. It really sets the mood and charges me.

What is your most common source of inspiration? books, movies, music, daily life, dreams? people watching at the supermarket?

I would say my most common source is my dreams, followed my daily life. I have a lot of weird sexual dreams where I can feel every minute detail so intensely. Like, I can feel how hard I am, how wet this made up woman (or my kitten) is , I can sense my orgasm. Sometimes I even come – the point is, it’s very vivid and detailed. And weird.

But it’s not just dreaming, I gather inspiration from everywhere – the way my kitten has this foxy, babydoll look in her eye, a scene in a horror where a woman is skinny dipping. Hell, I remember writing about a submissive Japanese woman who fought back against conventions to be a samurai. I had her whole backstory fleshed out, did my research a bit, before I felt I couldn’t do it. But that just came from my interest in ancient Japanese history. And samurai cinema, of course. Ahem.

On Dominance

If you could only element of the lifestyle, what would you choose? The sexual or the non sexual?

It would definitely be the non-sexual because I find those tiny details endlessly fascinating. When I think about what I enjoy as a dominant and what calls to me, it’s the little soulful interactions like setting creative tasks or deep, meaningful conversation that fulfil me.

Come to think of it, the non-sexual parts were what largely interested in me the more I read up on BDSM and D/s. I was always curious about the sexual parts but what drew me in was the aspects that make up the dynamic in a non sexual way.

What are your favourite non sexual parts of the dynamic?

Being soulful with one another, you know? The little moments like that. Organising structure and protocol and setting tasks like kneeling before bed and asking the dominant if they can share the bed – or picking out outfits she’ll wear together. Little psychological interactions like that.

Are you able to differentiate between sexual and non-sexual or do they bleed together sometimes?

Oh they definitely have the chance to bleed together, depending on context. But yeah, a big part of what I ‘chased’ when I was learning to be dominant was the non-sexual side of the dynamic. To me, that’s what I was feeling in the pit of my stomach – the call for control of that structure and mind of another. That’s what stood out. So I learnt backwards, I guess? Or rather just learnt of the non sexual interactions first because I was intrigued by the psychology behind it.

Does it bother you to admit weakness?

Sometimes! If I’m particularly anxious, I will ruminate on what I think are my weaknesses, like weird social personality or my inability to properly express myself or just how absent minded I can be.

I’m getting better at slowly accepting that this is who I am, but some days it’ll hit me harder than others.

What Is A BDSM Mentor?

I’ve spoken about acting as a mentor to people in the past but I don’t believe I touched on just what exactly is a Mentor in the context of the BDSM lifestyle.

As I’ve been doing some reflecting lately on it, I thought I’d go into detail about the role.

A BDSM Mentor is someone that has been in the lifestyle long enough themselves that they have experience and a good understanding of the differing aspects of the lifestyle, enough so that they can act as support and guidance needed to newcomers to BDSM and a D/s lifestyle.

There needs to be a solid foundation for a mentor and the newcomer’s interactions though. Forging trust between one another is paramount, as is genuine friendship. You’ll be working together and, depending on the individual, maybe even on sensitive, intimate aspects. So establishing a mutual level of trust and bond is absolutely necessary.

For example, I’ve always said to anyone, that writes in to me intrigued about a mentoring, whether by me or otherwise, to take the time and think about it. Take the time to get to know the mentor and see if they are best person for the job.

A BDSM Mentor should be in a strictly non-sexual role with the person being mentored. If it goes beyond that, either you or your mentor are looking for entirely different things and should either reflect together or apart.

I’m sure there are people who evolve from a Mentor / Mentored to genuine play – and maybe that’s what they want and that’s fine – but for the most part, a BDSM Mentor should be in that strictly non-sexual role.

They don’t own the Mentored, they can’t set protocols or rules or structures or punishments. They shouldn’t be teaching how to be like them specifically but more helping the individual be who they want to be.

Okay, but what does a BDSM Mentor actually do?

In my experience, being a mentor to a newcomer has involved listening to their needs and wants and guiding them accordingly.

Sometimes it’s just a matter of having that line of communication open, sometimes it’s listening about their relationship or their thoughts and helping them make sense of it, sometimes it’s just answering any questions they have about the lifestyle.

Me, personally, I like establishing a level of trust and comfort so that when or if they feel like asking me anything, they can stop in the middle of their day – to ask or vent or simply just talk out their feelings.

Some people need support and structure in their lives – I helped someone I Mentored get to the gym more, while I helped another organise their day in a way that she always wanted to but struggled to.

Setting tasks for the individual to reflect upon, offering resources like non-fiction books and just giving your time and patience – that’s what a mentor does.

Is a mentor needed for a successful D/s or BDSM relationship?

Absolutely not. I never had one. Granted, I took the road less traveled and it took longer to get there, but I’d like to think of my own D/s relationship as successful.

Whether you want a mentor there to assist you, for as ever long as you want, is entirely up to your preference. Some prefer the community in whole, some thrive on a one-to-one basis. It really depends on your personal views.

Should a submissive find a submissive mentor and a dominant find a dominant mentor? Or can they cross?

It depends on personal preference. Though I’m sure a submissive mentor could impart knowledge that I couldn’t fathom, I think learning from both sides of the dynamic could be a fascinating and enlightening experience.

Some people prefer to work with someone of the same dynamic while others like to work with the opposite to gain some insight into the mind. I’m sure personal preference also plays a part.

In my experience as a mentor, I’ve mentored both dominant and submissive people and have enjoyed answering questions to both sides of the dynamic.

Do you still mentor?

I do! The door is always open for people of any background or nationality, if you think I’m the right person to help you. If so, I’m happy to chat with you for as long you want so you can feel comfortable with me and make sure you still want that line of dialogue to be open.

Take your time deciding what’s best for you. You have all the time in the world to learn or to build a friendship and trust with the person that you want to be mentored by. Follow your heart and soul and you’ll be perfectly fine.

In Which I’m Asked If I Have A Preference On Who I Discuss BDSM With

Today I was asked, by a newcomer to the world of BDSM, if I mainly liked to focus on people who wanted to be dominant or if I happily spoke to those interested in submission as well.

It’s such a good and important question that I wanted to share it here for anyone who was new but couldn’t find their voice to reach out on any of the communities.

Back in 2017 when I first thought I was educated enough in the lifestyle to actively mentor, I found a post out there in the internet which stated those who felt their dominance should speak to a dominant and those who felt their submission should speak to a submissive for their respective training.

And I agree to a certain extent. I simply cannot help when it comes to any deeper yearnings that a submissive may have because I don’t have those natural or developed instincts. I can relate through my own yearnings and I can identify – I can even help teach someone what I learned in a purely objective manner – but I don’t have that perspective of feeling and being submissive.

Beyond that, I think that it is useful to talk to both personalities – and different people – to see how different people think and approach the same concepts of Kink and BDSM. It’s endlessly fascinating.

I personally don’t have a preference when it comes to who I talk to or help out. Whether it’s a man or a woman I do not mind, nor am I put off by nationality or background and interests. My view is that I am happy to answer any questions. Some people want to ask me about my background, some people want to ask about my anxiety, some people just have questions about the lifestyle.

I look at it like this – I may not have all the answers and I may not be in tune with your personal preferences but I’ll help as much as I possibly can and I’d be happy to talk through your thoughts and feelings, as much as you are comfortable with. For some people, hell, for most, it’s not easy coming forward and talking openly. I understand that all too well and try to be there as much as I can until they feel a little more comfortable and can ask their questions.

I genuinely love helping or talking with both sides – though I do hear more from people who identify as submissive, I’m always down to talk to a person who wants to discuss how to be dominant in the bedroom or other such concepts of dominance as well – anything that lil’ ol’ me can help with.

An Open Letter To Kinky Teens

Hey there. I hope you’re having a lovely day.

The first thing that I want to say is that, if you’ve found my blog through whatever means, I hope that there has been a piece I have written that has made you see that you aren’t alone in what you are feeling.

That, I feel, is the most important thing I can say or write to you right now — that what you are feeling can feel like a vortex of insanity but that doesn’t mean you are insane and that doesn’t mean what you’re feeling is wrong or disgusting or outrageous, no matter if you’ve had a parent tell you, or an ex tell you – some people are scared by it, some don’t understand it. And in turn that scares them. Don’t let their conceived reality become yours.

You have it in you to be strong and you certainly have it in you to overcome any barriers, to learn and to organise your thoughts in a way that will make you less anxious. You need a platform to organise them, to talk of them. But you are certainly up to the challenges of such a task! And I promise you, the more you practice a challenge, the easier it becomes in time. I wish I knew that growing up.

I was 12 when I started exploring kink – running through forests naked, indulging in things I’d later know where primal. I was 16 when I started exploring degradation and humiliation, not knowing degradation and humiliation were terms for what I found arousing. I only know these now because I did some digging and soul searching in my twenties – and that’s another thing you have on your side – time! Time to research, to assess, to know that being submissive is more than taking orders, it’s about your inner power and inner worry, just as being dominant is more then control, it is about knowing when to lead and when to be led, as well as harnessing both yourself and your partner in a safe environment.

Please be safe. The internet can be a wonderful place where people are so welcoming but it can also be a place for predators, faceless figures looking to take advantage of your naivety when it comes to BDSM and D/s.

I wish I had websites to recommend or teen-friendly sites for BDSM and kink, I don’t. I learned the long, hard way – typing things into google, finding non-fiction books like SM101 by Jay Wiseman from Goodreads. The little things like that that helped me. But I also did stupid stuff, like finding kink communities on the Whisper app and openly talking about my problems. Don’t do something like that – don’t open yourself to that kind of hurt. I know I’m being the hypocritical adult here, that’s a lot of adults for you – we make mistakes and don’t want that for someone else but — just be careful. Don’t rush into anything with anyone, talk if you must and learn but be mindful of your self and your worth and the power you have in your sexual identity.

Because let me tell you, you’re normal and you’re lovely and there’s not a thing wrong with you. I remember feeling like that, and you know what? I remember learning that I wasn’t alone in the world, that people were just like me out there.

Take your time. You’ll be fine.

I will never turn anyone away that wants to talk, regardless of age. My email is always open.