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?
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
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.
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.
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.
Have you ever seen someone, perhaps they are on youtube, Facebook, whatever, say how they are trying to respond messages or keep up with fans but there are so many that they possibly can’t? It’s not a thing of rudeness, it’s just with time constraints, life reasoning, they simply can’t?
Well, I never thought I’d get to that point. But, the thing is, I kinda am. I pride myself on the fact that I set out to respond to every email and check every blog. So far, I think I’ve done pretty good. I’m very VERY forgetful, to the point I am like a comical character bumbling around spaces, but if such a thing occurs, you have the right to slap me and make me remember.
ANYhow. The point I wanted to make that between my studies and my work and any time I write for the blog, it’s getting harder to keep up to date with newcomers or your blogs or life adventures and that sucks the big one.
What that generally means is that I’m slow to get to your blog – but trust me, when I do, I usually binge and spam your notifications with comments on your writing or troubles or days. And I love that part of WordPress. To me, it’s the most fulfilling part of the whole experience of writing.
So I am taking the space right there to say to you lovely ladies and gents that if you’d specifically like my feedback or advice or even just a general chat, please message me and I’ll get on that asap, if I haven’t already. I’m always lurking after all!
Speaking of lurkers, It’s still heart warming to see people from all over visit this weird little space. I believe I saw Norway visited the other day! Norway! What a lovely place! I can only imagine the type of personality to come out of Norway! Electric, dark, exotic. What stories could a mind from there tell? I wonder!
Never be shy to write in, people! I know it might be hard to put thoughts into words but I don’t bite! Least not always…
While I hate to harp on about Patreon, I wanted to put this up to answer any questions anyone had but to also ask advice from the people I adore!The reward system in Patreon is basically designed so that the creator can give their talent to their fans for different sections or amounts, whether that be to pledge $1 a month or $5.
For example, $1 could grant access to my ramblings on Patreon for anyone that wants to hear more of my mind, for whatever reason.
$5 could be that for every erotica I write per month, I’ll create a PDF of it for pledgers to keep, with your choice of name.
I’d also love to write pieces for people, like a commission, but again, I don’t know if I’m worth that.
I’m trying to come up with worthwhile rewards for anyone that is gracious / kind enough to want to support the writing here – and this is where you guys come in.
What kind of rewards would you be interested in? I have a list of ideas – the PDF every month, draft copies of erotica before it hits the blog, little behind the scenes of stories, like character backgrounds, setting, why I’m dark and chose that fiendish erotica, just more insight into the clock work of my brain.
The thing is, I want to give to the community. Anxiety most days gets to me about my writing but I trust you guys to lay it to me straight, and you’ve been mostly positive.
And now I want to hear from you. In terms of my mind, writing process, life adventure, interests you? As a reader, as a fan of my writing, what would you want to read about? What would you want, as a piece to savour during a bath or a stormy night?
I’m just looking for ideas and inspiration. So from one dark mind to another, take your best shot. I dare you.
Hey ladies and gents,
I’m quite nervous to announce I’ve decided to bite the bullet and create a profile on Patreon, which you can view here.
Patreon is a platform where creative folk can create a body of work and then create a reward system for any of their fans who wish to support them financially.
Why did you do that?
After starting my blog, I realised how much passion and love I have for the writing and for my audience — you lovely folk.
Suddenly it became clear to me that this was the mythical dream job I had been chasing my whole adult life.
I never wanted an ordinary job. I wanted to make life on my own terms. And when people scoffed at my probably naive dreams, that just encouraged me to stand tall, refuse to budge and conform.
Writing this blog has been an amazing experience. I want to do this on a full time basis, which means more time to help you guys, more time to write and do what I love. For anyone who wants it.
THIS BLOG WILL STILL BE 100% FREE.
While Patreon IS a service where fans choose to donate monthly, this doesn’t mean you HAVE to to access my work. I couldn’t dream of how tough times are for some. Sometimes I think what right do I have to even attempt this? But in the light of possibly being unsuccessful, I must try. Writing is my dream. And for now, Patreon is an experiment.
Nevertheless, the blog will remain free to access, with the content I do regularly.
THERE’S A REWARD SYSTEM BUT I’M STILL FIGURING OUT KINKS….
I won’t apologise for that pun. I have a few goodies designed but I’d love to hear what some of your thoughts are on what rewards I can provide monthly for any pledgers. After all, I do love writing for you all so if there’s anything I can do… If you have the time, I’d like to hear your thoughts on it all.
Remember it’s your choice if you want to help me with my dream.
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.
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.
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.