Ramblings

Submission is a gift, provided only to those worthy. Demanding it will not work with anyone worth their weight in gold. And obviously that’s what we all look for. 
Sweet release of submission and Domination. Silent and glowing. An unspoken language. A unique art to be unfurled by the two working in tandem. 
Too often it is displayed in a broken frame. Held together with tape. A pretty bow tied around to make it look like a gift. Unearned. Unwelcome. Demanding and threatening. 
BDSM is so much more than sex. It is the protocols and rules. The freedom in regulation and fun in moments of challenge. Funishment. Punishment. Subspace- like honey and helium in a bottle. Reward and trust. It is freedom. 
It isn’t some dirty message pinging through at 1am demanding nudes from some stranger. Anger and frustration over undeserved abuse sent through because of the word no. 
Community. Love. Trust. Affection. Guidance. Sex. Correction.

Beautiful. 

Are any of us enough? Too much? Trying to be some kind of perfect version of ourselves always just out of reach. 
We edit ourselves all the time. Stopping the swearing in polite company. Makeup and a glittery dress for a night out. Letting the wild out. 
I often wonder if I edit myself too much, to the point I wonder if I was once a chameleon in my past life. Mimicking speech styles and tone of voice. 
Always holding my values, but swayed by the company I keep. After all, we always like people like ourselves. 
I want to try to reduce this unconscious behaviour. Stay true to the presentation of myself I like most. Stop colouring myself in for others comfort. 
Stop being a chameleon. 

I shout into my own head, only to hear an echo. Not the familiar excitement about the world that once sat there. 
I wonder if I will hear her again? That drive and passion for a challenge I once heard. The spirit that filled me with excitement at the thought of learning and experiencing new things. Good things.
Not the shell I feel now. 
I'm not weak, no. Don’t get that twisted. If anything I’m stronger, because I feel less. I don’t get drawn into things the way my naivety once allowed. 
But I pull away. I destroy what may be able to get close enough to hurt me, before it gets the chance. I react in all the ways I always told myself other people were crazy to do. 
Bound by my own hesitations. Gagged by my fears. And blindfolded by anger. A play session of its own. 

“Hi” Two letters, one word. A blank canvas to draw upon. Does it hide growth or hurt? Lust, anger… love? All too often a disguise for the key, to a gate holding back only hurtful demand. And yet, rude to ignore? Maybe. 
“How are you?” A polite follow up. Empty but appearing thoughtful. Your reply likely glazed over as they edge toward the reason for the energy expenditure. 
“so you’re a submissive?” A question based on information I provided. My profile. A loaded line. You await the inevitable. 

“You are going to be mine” 

I don’t think so.

A slip of the tounge and she knew a mistake had been made. Too late to fix it, it was gone. Out there. His eyes flit to hers in playful anger. “I’m sorry? Aren’t we missing something?” 
The sound of running water and no steam. A cold and soulless tower of water, no escape… only a lesson. 
Standing as her skin bites back, trying to wash knowing he was aware of her movements. Gritted teeth.

Lessons being learnt. 

Body turning blue, purple. Scrubbing still. Avoiding the sting as much as possible. Be clean. Hygiene.

Lessons being learnt.

A warm towel awaits, duvets and calm. Considering the teachings of the event. 

“I won’t forget again Sir”
“good girl” 

Everything looks better in the morning. That’s what they say isn’t it? 
The morning sun breaches the curtains veil, tired eyes watch the ceiling. A few moments before the world knows you’re awake. A few moments to take before the demands of the day take hold. 
The sleepy morning routine and letting the sun in. And coffee. Morning coffee. A blissful routine. 
Teeth to be brushed, washing to do, meals to prepare can wait. 
Today has been restful and resetting. My morning has lasted all day. 
I will be strong again. 

A wall doesn’t work if the bricks aren’t aligned. It would do nothing to keep out the threats. Strong together, bricks and mortar. Stronger together are the people who reached out for me today. The community I am so new to. A baby of the group and yet…
This community is something special. An oddity that feels like family. Linked by support and love, many shades of the same flavour. 

Thank you. All. Truly. 
Peace, you kinky motherfuckers ♥️

Play online comes with its risks and I know this. But weeks of getting to know someone, the small early hour conversations. Smiling at my phone like a moron, working to build something.
And I wake up to you gone.
No good bye, no explanation. Just thrown away. 
I am a full person. 
How am i meant to start trying to build anything? I spent time explaining to you my hesitations. now that my trust has been evaporated. 
heartbroken. 

A strong hand of guidance and patience. Brutal in moments of delicious anticipation.

Tease. Disciplinarian. Guardian. Teacher.

Daddy is a beautiful oxymoron. 

A hollow and sinking place. Black quick sand with no shoreline. Covered in sweat, saliva, tears… you feel like a newborn. Vulnerable to all threats. 
A payment to be made for allowing another into your mind. So fulfilling and beautiful. 
A Dominants life raft out of this darkness is something to behold. The right words at the right time. When and how to touch. Reassurance without crippling overwhelm. An art of its own.

A dance without universal rules. Beautiful, terrifying and so very important.