4-23-2016 Journal

Hello, my Name is ... And I'm an Emotional Masochist. I had someone say to me that I'm not an emotional masochist because I don't actually "enjoy" the negative feelings. head tilts Am i doing my kink wrong?

I'm not sure if they think I should get giddy and dance around when feeling these things or what. A physical masochist still says "ouch" or some form of vent. An emotional masochist still cries and gets depressed.

It's what you feed on that makes you what you are. What you crave. You people into humiliation and degradation still feel humiliated and ashamed, right? The only difference between you and someone who does not enjoy it is, you get aroused by it and crave more, right?

So, when I cry or get depressed over a situation (that I asked for or not sometimes), wouldn't the defining moment be whether or not I got aroused and wanted more? So, unless this person asked me if I was horny and craving more, then they'd have no clue as to the validity of my being an emotional masochist, correct?

I'm just trying to make sure that I still know my kinks better than people who do not share them

3-7-2016 Fiction

Oh, You Will Beg

"Is that so?" he asked. Maybe it was more of an ironic statement meant to follow my famous last words. I had told him that I don't beg. And that much was true. I knew where he was going now, so I nuzzled deeper into my bed and prepared to show my strength. I wasn't going to budge on this. He murmured, "Let's see."

And then he didn't say anything else for a while. I debated silently which topic to switch to, but suddenly I was thinking of his cock. I sucked on my lower lip as I remembered just how he tasted. I closed my eyes and cradled the phone between my ear and shoulder in order to cover my eyes with my hand. I wanted it darker than dark, my mind turns off in the darkness. I needed to not think, just for a moment. Visions of his bulky, hard cock kept playing in my mind's eye regardless. The more I tried to escape into the darkness, the more I imagined- little snippets of memory and daydreams about pleasing him.

"Is it getting painful?" He asked flatly when I exhaled sharply. My clit felt so rigid like it was going to tighten itself into nonexistence. I mumbled a reply. My breathing had changed already and my legs were tensing up as my hips left the bed and softly landed down in a heated rhythm. "What do you need?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," I insisted even though my voice broke twice before I got the sentence all the way out. My right eye was twitchy and my throat went as dry as my pussy was now wet. I ignored this. I ignored the burning wracking through my body, "please?" Fuck!

"Please what? Are you ... begging?" He asked in the same flat tone as before.

"Nothing," I repeated, "I am fine."

"I bet you're remembering just how my cum tastes, aren't you? Is that clit pulsing right now? It sounds painful," he said, "And it will get worse. It will continue to become more and more painful- to the point you can't even think anymore." As he spoke, my body reacted; it obeyed everything he said. I was struggling just to breathe now, my body was locked in motion, but dammit, I wasn't going to beg for release. I didn't even need to cum.

"I ... am ... fine," I said and I was, barely, but I wasn't going to lose and eat my words. I growled under my breath. Frustrated. Desperate. Sweating. Wetness trickling down my inner thigh and caressing my ass cheek. "Please?"

"BEG ME," he said. His voice was no longer flat. He almost sounded angry; firm, darkly amused at my suffering. He repeated himself when I didn't respond. I stiffened my tongue against the roof of my mouth trying to keep another 'please' from slipping out of my lips. It was a traitor, my tongue.

"BEG ME."

"Please, please, please," I couldn't hold back my plea anymore and offered up a barrage, some incoherent, some sharply articulated. I couldn't stop myself. I felt orgasm taunting me as I stood at the edge trying to convince myself I wasn't about to cum at all.

"Are you begging me?" he said, his flat tone has returned.

I continued with the word "please" in true mantra style. Finally, I was able to deviate and tell him; I was indeed begging. I hardly got the new words out before the incoherent "please" began to cycle from my mouth again. I couldn't breathe enough, sucking in air around the syllables when I could.

"CUM," he said.

And I twirled in a dizzy frenzy of convulsions between my legs. My stomach felt inside out. My eyes got confused by lights and colors. I couldn't think about how I had just given in. It didn't matter to me. I had no cohesive thoughts anymore. My evil traitor lips curved into a smile as my ragged breathing started to even out.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" He demanded sharply.

"Thank you," I breathed into the phone. My clit was still sore, so sore. I squeezed my legs together and stretched like a cat. My mind began to yell at me for having begged, for caving in. I didn't care and switched it off abruptly like a television. Fuck that program, I thought.

"I don't beg," he muttered in a mocking tone.

I felt ashamed. Confused. He made his point, he could make me do whatever he wanted me to do. I hated that, but I got turned on all over again. I wanted him to have that power over me, I needed it. But I wouldn't beg again, I promised myself.

3-5-2016 Fiction

I Win

"This, I don't need," he said flinging the knife up towards the head of the bed. Its weight barely registered now but when it had been laid across her back, it felt very heavy indeed. She counted her breaths, in and out, getting ready to spring free. And then he said it, "you are mine."

She froze, her arms locked at the elbows, her knuckles bulging as she gripped the edge of the pillow beneath her; her eyes closed while his words repeated in her head. She heard him chuckle and trail a fingernail down her spine. Involuntarily, she squirmed.

"See, I told you that you'd sit still for me, pet," he said as he traced her spine again. H leaned into her bottom as she squirmed in response again. She could feel the heat and hardness of his cock, positioned right between her asscheeks. She didn't say anything back. He leaned over her, pushing her down into the mattress hard and said, "I win."

He slide his cock inside of her without warning and she bolted forward slightly, shocked. She wanted to scream "no", but she couldn't resist a man who played such a perfect game. Slowly, she began to bob backwards as he thrusted, forcing his cock to go in even deeper. "Who won indeed?" she thought with a smile.

He plunged in deep and stopped, he just held her there by her hips, then he pulled out and with one swift movement, entered her ass. Again, she bolted forward and yelped. He grabbed her hair and pulled her back to him, all the way down his shaft. Then, he wrapped his fingers around her throat with his other hand. He slowly pumped her hole while he teased her with the possibility of being choked, but as his movements gained momentum, his hands went back to her hips. He began to pound so hard that occasionally his hands would slip off of her. He dug his nails in. Again, his hands were bumped off and long lines of red beads rose u from her flesh. He dug his nails back in.

"I'm going to cum and fill up your ass," he whispered to her, "because I can do what i want with you now, pet. You're mine."

He started to moan and she bucked against him, riding his cock. Then, she felt something trickle out and he removed himself and fell on top of her briefly. She felt his heart pounding into her flesh. She felt him nuzzle her then get off the bed. She didn't move. She was afraid to. She heard the clank of the cage door at the foot of the bed. She turned onto her side and saw him standing with the door open to her cage.

"Come here," he said.

2-29-2016 Fiction

Almost Ready

My eyes blink hard in the darkness. I'm half expecting the light to suddenly fill my pupils and cause them to contract sharply, but when I open my eyelids, the same old black nothingness is in front of me. I look in all directions, as if by chance I might catch the movement of black on black; was that a shadow, is someone hiding in here with me? My ears perk up as something, somewhere scratches the air with the faintest of sounds.

Crap! It was only my breathing.

My lungs heave up and compress over and over again. Routines going through the motions, obligatory processes so that I may live, and it all seems meaningless. What kind of life is mine now? Where the hell am I? If I don't know where I am, who is with me, or what anything looks like, do I even have an identity? I try to move my arms apart. They are connected by the wrist, something strong, like metal; I yank and twist but only make my entire body weak. Then, I hear it.

Footsteps! Someone is walking, judging from the slight echo and muffle, in a hallway leading up to this room. However, I'm not hopeful enough to be optimistic. It is probably him, whoever he is. I scoot on my ass into a corner. That's when I realize my leg is cuffed to something. I feel around with my bound hands- I'm chained up and my leg had apparently gone numb a while ago. The footsteps continue and then pause.

Light cuts into my flesh and eyeballs as the door swings open. I recoil further into the angle of the corner, trying to hide myself away from not only him but from that cursed light. I tuck my head in between the shoulders and bend my uni-arm in front of my face. I hear him walk towards me and stop. I don't look up.

Several minutes inched past but I don't hear anything more, no movement, no words. I look up to see him staring at me intently with his lips pursed as if deep in thought. I'm pretty sure he's not blinking, like at all; my mind starts to spin on about how he's probably an alien, or a robot. I meet his eyes but nothing changes in his, the expression is blank except for his tight lips.

"Is it ready yet?" A voice with a heavy accent calls out from the hallway.

"No," he says and turns to leave the room.

The door slowly shuts and darkness floods the room once again. I've been sitting in here for hours now, maybe even a whole day, I can't tell. All I know is, I'm still not ready. I want to be ready. I want to plea with them that I am ready, but there's no one to talk with here. I am alone with my thoughts, aware enough to know that my thoughts are slipping into some weird places full of aliens and robots. Dragons. Angels. Demons. A cruise ship to the Bahamas. I can feel my brain losing lucidity.

Yes, I am almost ready.

2-25-2016 Fiction

An Animal

She stands there naked, in the middle of the room, slightly hunched to the right because the chains restraining that side of her body are much shorter than those for her left. She had been here, standing locked in this spot for three days. The only break in her posture now is her neck, slumping her head forward and towards the right. He looks her over. It isn't clear if she tore any muscles as her body tried to give way and relax. Concerned, he enters the room and shuts the heavy steel door behind him. Her head shoots up as it clanks shut.

"I see your muscles are holding up," he remarks casually. He wipes the dirty mess from her cheek; a smear of old tears and dirt that looks like make up in the dimly lit room. She tries to pull away from his hand. "Oh my dear, it appears you still haven't learned anything here."

He starts to walk away and she pleads with him, but the words are incoherent. He pauses a second before pulling the door open.

"Please," she sobs out and stops him in the doorway.

"I haven't eaten in days," she mumbles, "please?"

"And?" He asks with a tone suggesting just how little he cares.

"May I be unchained for just a moment?" She asks, "Just a moment."

He glances over at the door and then kicks it shut. She hasn't the strength in her to pull it inward to get out. He had designed this cell with careful thought. He gets up without a word and undoes her chains, and then walks in between her and the door.

She slowly, painfully, carefully lowers herself to the floor. Kneeling before him with her head bowed, "What can I do to earn food and water?"

"Ah, perhaps I was too hasty earlier," he smirked, "wait here." He walks over and takes a single chain and locks it to the chain around her neck. "This will be more comfortable, won't it pet?"

"Yes Sir," she says lifting her head and smiling for the first time since he locked her in the Bad Room.

"After you are fed and rested, I think you may rejoin the house," he smiles.

"Thank you, Sir," she replies and tries to rise. He goes over and helps her up, leaning her against the cold wall. "Thank you again, Sir."

He returns with two silver dishes staked upon each other. Grunting, he pushes the door open and sets the dishes down, bumps the door with his hip and then follows up with a kick when it doesn't shut all the way. He takes the top dish and sets it to the right of the other dish. She can see one has food of some sort and the other water.

"On your knees, crawl over here," he orders. She remains standing, a look of disgust on her face; defiance. His face stiffens as he watches her. "You are hungry, aren't you, pet?"

She goes to her knees, still looking up at him with resentment, and crawls clumsily over to the dog dishes. The food smells so good and the heat rising up from the dish feels so good to her face. She seems to forget that she is a lady and begins to eat with the gusto of an animal. He smiles.

"Good girl," he murmurs as she enjoys her first meal in three days,"I may just make you useful yet."

2-1-2016 Fiction

Eye of the Camera

Cameras. Pftt. They watch everything she does. Recording every inch of skin into the memory. Glaring, watching as if in judgment as she rolled around on the pile of her clothes, reaching positions to flatter herself. But then, she saw there was no judgment inn the voyeuristic camera. It enjoyed it all.

She grabbed her left breast and took the knife he had left on the nightstand. She slowly carved a superficial heart into her breast. She showed the camera the beads of blood; they came slowly to the surface in the order of penetration, unfolding like a flower bloom before the man who watched on the other side. The heart came to be, bead by bloody bead. Then, she kissed her art and smiled at him through the lens; blood staining her lips.

Come taste she said with her eyes.

Her captor rose from his seat and switched the camera off. Then, he paused in the doorway, returning to flip it right back on. He knew what she was doing. She was trying to manipulate him, lull him into some fantasy; doping his mind with her sex and here he was, walking right into her hands. He grinned to himself as he unlocked the door to the room his prize had lived in for the past two weeks.

Immediately, she dove at him, knife still in her hands. He chuckled as he flung her aside and watched the knife clang against the cement floor and spin a half circle. She was so cute. So predictable. He grabbed her by the hair and led her back over to her bed.

"Get dressed," he commanded and she merely stared up at him, tears in her eyes now. Her eyes were reddening quickly as he continued to stare at her. He arched his eyebrow and nodded towards her clothing.

Carefully, she put her clothes back on and sat on the edge of the bed again, staring up at him. He moved towards her and she flinched violently. Cute and predictable, he grinned. He stood directly in front of her, so close that she scooted back on the bed to avoid their legs touching one another's.

"You no longer have the privileged of being unclothed," he said with a hint of anger.

She hadn't wanted to be naked in the first place, but then she realized she felt a mourning. She lowered her head a little but raised her eyes to keep him in her sights. She didn't trust him. You don't trust someone who abducted you off the street. She shook her head to herself.

"What is it?" He asked, his voice booming over her head, stunning her slightly.

She answered with a heavy sigh, closed her eyes, and then shrugged. Her eyes met his again. The light inside of them wasn't entirely gone. He would keep her as long as there was light. Nothing good happens when the lights of the eyes go dark, he knew this well. He sighed himself then, and caressed her cheek with the knuckle of his middle finger.

"Now, I do believe I am entitled to a taste of that," he said.

1-28-2016 Fiction

Good Morning

He wakes me up by grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me over to him. He's already ready for my mouth, and I, I couldn't tell you what day it even is. He moans as I suck his cock into my mouth and then criss-crosses his forearms on top of my head, holding me right where I belong. It's been hours since I last tasted him. It seems he is waiting longer and longer to permit me.

I suck hard while trying to gently move my tongue upwards against his thick shaft. I can barely do it simply because there's no room in my mouth for my tongue to move. I hum in disappointment at myself and his cock twitches upwards causing me to gag. If I could giggle or smirk at the noises I'm making, I would.

I feel a tear slide down the bridge of my nose and my eyes are burning. I suck even harder since I'm not allowed to bob up and down. I am just there to work my throat; suction and swallowing, gulping even. He likes it deep and slow. And I, I like it however it takes to get a taste of his cum; because, when he starts to cum, he lets go and I can move upwards just enough to get his spurts onto my tongue before they disappear down my throat.

Abruptly, he pulls me up, again by my hair, off from his gorgeous cock. I'm immediately sad and tears start to form in my eyes. Pushing me over backwards, he mounts me. We've never had sex before, but without a word he plunges inside. I almost scream because he's too big for me for this to be happening so fast. I'm stretching around him and then the friction sets in as he thrusts. It almost burns but then subsides. I start to speak.

"No," he growls and covers my mouth with his left hand.

His thrusts are slow and hard; he articulates his movements with an intensity I can almost not bear. My hip start rising up to him and his hand leaves my mouth to push me down at the hip. But I can't stop trying to move, it's instinct taking over. My eyes open and he's staring at me. It doesn't look like him. His eyes ... the person I knew wasn't there in those eyes, I was staring back into the eyes of a beast. He snarls at me and takes my neck into his teeth.

The pain runs through my flesh and somehow it goes straight to my pussy. I clench up and start to cum around his cock. He chuckles darkly at his accomplishment and then pulls out until just the head of his cock is inside of me. He slams in one final time with a growl that turns into a moan, sounding almost wounded. He breathes the last of his moan softly into my ear and then rests his forehead upon mine.

"Good morning, slave," he whispers.

1-8-2016 Journal

Yeah, I'm a Sadist and a lot of other stuff too. I'm mostly submissive, but damn, do I have a sadistic streak a mile wide. After watching a show in which a guy was screaming and running around (from ghosts, mind you) and laughing my ass off, I realized I was rather turned on by that. He didn't sound like a guy screaming to be frank, so I began to wonder. I think I'd love nothing more than to have a masochist gal squirming and whimpering chained up against the wall. Would be really cool. Nods.

But then, again, I sorta decided to keep out of kink. But that was damn sure a great fantasy to have today. I worked it well ;)

Still falls short of being dominated, but the idea of beating a woman is pretty fucking intriguing. I've got enough impact tools to have a pretty good time for now, but I may just want to add to my bag over time just in case.

So, I tip my hat to you, fellow Sadists, though I will never add that title to my resume officially. It's too full as it is, being the chameleon that I am. I am also not as creative as I've found most Sadists to be. Oh, tricks and pin pricks, I have, but I am lacking a bit of whatever it takes to make the long haul as a Sadist or Domme. And yannno, that's perfectly fine.

And to the woman that nearly hit me today in her silver Subaru, you best pray I don't find out you're in the kink community ;) villainous laugh I have a dragon tail with your license plate number on it, baby doll.

I was going to end there, very tongue-in-cheek, but lately I've watched all the bullshit being vomited on this site as well as Facebook. People either do not have a sense of humor or they're so bored they need to get offended about something so they can socialize amongst themselves and feel like special snowflakes. hands you a band aid for your ass So, let me state and make this perfectly clear, I am not really threatening this woman or anyone at all. If I did ever bump into her anywhere, the worse I'd do to her is offer her free driving lessons (and maybe break her stupid cell phone). Also, to bolster my disclaimer, I was not implying any violation of her consent either. Um, whatever else you can dig out of my syllables, lemme now and I am sure I can draft up a nice cute disclaimer for it and grab you a few extra band aids for your hurt ass.