My Blog - original erotica

We hear it all the time.

*”I can’t find anyone to submit to me.”*

*”Their aren’t true submissives here. I’ve tried to find them. They are nothing but a myth.”*

This couldn’t be further from the truth. This line of thinking comes from men that struggle to understand their own identity. They don’t understand themselves, far less understanding what a submissive searches for and why she searches for that.

Especially when it comes to dealing with a strong and confident woman. Most men struggle knowing how to handle a woman of strength. They cannot comprehend that a submissive woman can also be a strong woman. When faced with that strength, those men that struggle with that concept either become submissive to a strong woman, or they cannot handle her questioning their motives and they get offended, often becoming world class cunts and abusing the woman, rather than simply realising they aren’t Dominant enough to handle her.

Strength is a trait that must be felt within. But then, the person must understand how to wield that strength. So many with ego’s or attitudes, who look like they have strength, just turn out to be arrogant cunts, that do not understand themselves, far less how to navigate a world where others want to be subjugated.

To subjugate another human being, a Dominant must first learn that he is no better than the submissive he is dealing with, and that she in fact is his equal as a human being. She submits, not because of demands to submit. She submits because of her choice, but also because she senses that he is just, moral and has a true compass that not only leads him on the correct path, however also allows her to safely and confidently walk that path with him.

She doesn’t drop to her knees because he demands it, she drops because his entire being and his way of life, commands her to. She drops because she wishes to serve, please, pleasure and honour Him.

He understands what he wants and she recognises that quality and is viscerally drawn to Him, wanting to experience what that feels like…

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✅🔥 Thank you for reading. I enjoy creating erotic writing, erotic art and writing about the kink lifestyle. I write here and on my own private blog platform. I self publish my own eBooks and I offer one for free for those interested in reading. If you would like to find out more about my writing and my blog, please don’t hesitate to message me and I will be happy to share information if you request it. 

Kink. A psychological, mental, emotional and physical recipe of ingredients mixed together to create a delicious outcome. Sometimes it’s a simple recipe of lust and debauchery. Sometimes a simple mixture of ingredients that make up an outcome of pleasure and pain.

So many ingredients, so many potential outcomes.

And then sometimes you combine many factors and create a recipe of lust, desire, craving, control and fear.

I like those more complex recipes. The deeper psychological kinks.

Taking a strong and confident woman who is so used to being respected, grabbing her by the throat, driving her to the ground, using my spare hand to force open her mouth as I brutally feed her with my cock, growling at her and telling her what I’m going to do to her next, treating her like a filthy little disposable whore, as I begin to take, make and fucking break her.

Listening to her gag as my cock fills her throat, stealing her ability to breathe, watching her eyes begin to widen as she comprehends that she is finally no longer in control. That she has lost control for the first time in her life, that control taken from her so swiftly, so quickly, that her mind becomes foggy with confusion.

The urgent need to breathe and gain life sustaining oxygen taking over as her survival instincts kick in. She struggles and tries to lash out, as I grab her wrists, lifting them over her head and easily pinning them to the wall behind her with a single hand.

Survival is all that is on her mind, instinct, hope, need to survive, as I keep selfishly using her throat for my own pleasure, explaining to her that she is my fucking whore now and that her ability to breathe, to remain conscious, to fucking survive is now owned by me.

Feeling her struggles weaken until she finally becomes limp as the oxygen in her blood supply begins to diminish and her comprehension levels begin to drop. Watching her carefully, until the moment is right and ripping her head off my cock, slapping her back to consciousness, whilst my other hand drives itself into her cunt, in and out, hard and fucking fast.

Listening to her greedily gasp for air, as a scream fights its way to the surface and emits from deep within her.

But that scream is a mixture of fear and lust and is cut off quickly as I drive my cock savagely into her throat again and her body betrays her in the most shameful of ways for her. Her mind screams all shades of no, but her cunt throbs, clenches and then gushes as the floodgates between her legs open as the first of fucking many forced orgasms rips through her body.

That recipe.

One of my favourite fucking recipes...

The way he touches her, stirs her within.

His touch, even when gentle and light, penetrating beyond the simple surface of her skin.

The feeling of a loving hand placed softly on her cheek as he stares into her eyes.

The rugged power felt when he assertively grips her throat so firmly.

The way she feels so helpless when he grips her with both hands, effortlessly manhandling her and manipulating her body into positions to use for his own personal use.

The force that transfers when he grabs the back of her head and feeds her throat onto his cock.

The measured control found in the power of a perfectly placed slap that delivers her both pleasure and pain.

The way her cunt comes alive as his fingers trail upwards along her inner thigh.

The pleasure she gains from the discomfort of his fingers invading, penetrating and stretching her tight little asshole.

The squeal that emits from her as his fingers grip a nipple, twisting, squeezing and controlling her.

The way she needs to suck and worship his fingers so fervently as he slides them into her mouth and begins to force them into her throat.

The emotional safety she feels when he detects she is off centre and holds his arms out to her and she moves into him as he envelopes her in his big, strong capable arms.

The feeling of possessive ownership that occurs when they walk in public and his hand reaches across to playfully tap her ass cheek in a way that silently says she belongs to me, to all that witness and see.

The way his fingers run tenderly through her hair when they lay and cuddle in the small hours of the night.

The eroticism of his fingertips running along her back as he pulls her in close and caresses her ever so gently.

That touch can be offered in so many different ways, but the delivery of his touch embeds itself in her bones, her soul and her entirety…

The way she kneels for you.

Placing herself into the deliciously seductive Nadu pose.

Kneeling at your feet, placing herself back on her heels.

Her back completely straight, a beautiful posture held perfectly for you.

Shoulders back, breasts protruding forward and accentuated so seductively by the posture of the position itself.

Her tummy tucked in, legs wide open, exposing her soft beautiful thighs and her glowing skin.

Her hands placed carefully on her thighs, palms down, symbolic of unadulterated and pure submission.

Head facing upwards, displaying the beauty of her femininity to her Sir.

Eyes open, looking directly up into your eyes.

Eyes that talk without the need for words or sounds to understand what they say.

Eyes full of expression, need, lust, desire and such breathtaking submissive vulnerability.

You reach down, caressing her pretty face as your thumb gently glides over her soft, full lips. 

The way she unconsciously moans as her mouth opens to lick, inhale and devour your thumb.

Sucking fervently, wanting to feel any and every part of you in her mouth.

The way you feel your cock move and grow as she applies the slightest suction and pressure to your thumb that is now deep inside her mouth.

The way her tongue makes love to your thumb as her need to feel and taste you heightens.

The heady smell of her cunt as the wetness of her sinful desire leaks from between her legs. 

The way she shudders and groans as she watches you begin to unzip your jeans.

Her desire now driven into the frenzy only found from the lust of becoming fucking cock drunk.

Nothing is on her mind aside from pleasing you.

Pleasuring you.

Adoring you.

Worshipping you. 

That... just fucking that…

She wanted his hands wrapped around her heart as well as her throat.

She needed his caring, his empathy, his love.

But she also needed his nasty, his controlling, his animal within.

She wanted to be cared for.

Treated well.

Looked after.

Loved.

But she also desperately needed to be hurt.

Forced.

Manipulated.

Manhandled and savagely fucked.

To use the strength in his arms to give her a safe space, but at times to have that strength be able to hurt and ravage her when she needed it.

Force her into positions that were deliciously challenging short term, but in no way sustainable.

Fuck her so savagely that it hurt her and embedded fear into her very soul.

She needed his nice.

But she craved and coveted his nasty...

She had never been treated this way before. Never been pushed. Never been forced. She was scared, but also turned on. So very turned on. The intensity of his dominating nature and the way he physically and mentally controlled her so easily made her cunt react in ways she never had imagined possible.

His Dominance made her wet. Soaking. Her cunt throbbed. Needing this. Wanting this. His commands were harsh, nasty and forceful. Filthy words that made her feel cheap, but also surprising her in the way they really turned her on. 

"Suck my cock until you gag my little fucking whore."

No man had ever spoken to her in this way. She felt repulsed but also riveted. One hand locked onto the back of her head, forcing his cock into her throat, while the other gripped one of her nipples, twisting and inflicting pain.

His strength undeniable. Controlling her so easily. Taking what he wanted. Using her. She had never experienced something of this nature. Realisation hit her that he was unlocking something inside her. Something that made her want to be treated this way. Need to be treated this way. 

He moaned loudly, pushing his cock deeper into her throat. She felt his cock begin to expand. She tried to push back, but was no match for his strength. He violated her throat, forcing his cock deeper, choking her. 

His thrusts became urgent. She was fighting for air. Panicking. He didn’t stop. Too far gone. She felt him unload inside her throat. His cock pulsing with each empty. At that moment she involuntarily orgasmed. Totally unexpected. Her cunt erupted. 

And at that moment she realised that she wanted to be used again. No. Not wanted. Needed to be used. She had finally begun to understand her kink and what drove that kink. 

Others look at her and only see what they blindly want to see.

Lust driven and agenda based, lecherous looks.

To always take, but never give.

Don’t just look at her and see what everyone else does.

Anyone can notice her eye colour.

Everyone sees the tits and ass.

The painted nails or the styled hair.

Really learn to look at her.

The person that she is inside.

The beautiful woman that is trapped within.

The conundrum that makes her unique.

Sadness, mixed with a dollop happiness.

Fear and anxiety, with shavings of bravery.

The little girl that still hides away, even though the strong woman she is now walks through the world.

Really look at her and begin to understand the complex woman that she has become.

Recognise her values, her morals, her deep seated needs.

Need to be wanted.

Need to be recognised.

Need to be respected.

Need to love, but more importantly, to feel real and unconditional love.

Need to be your equal, yet still give her all to you.

Recognise what she herself does not even see.

Her strength.

Her resilience.

Her warrior spirit.

Once you recognise the woman inside and show her what you see.

She will begin to also recognise how special she is.

How beautiful she is.

How unique she is.

How needed and loved she is.

By you.

Power exchange.

It’s not just about taking her power.

It’s about empowering her.

It’s about encouraging her.

It about giving her the power you take from her.

In ways that she can benefit and grow from.

It’s about emotional transactions and exchange.

And giving her power back to her in ways she never expected…

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Thank you for reading. I enjoy creating erotic writing, erotic art and writing about the kink lifestyle. I write here and on my own private blog platform. I self publish my own eBooks and I offer one for free for those interested in reading. If you would like to find out more about my writing and my blog, please don’t hesitate to message me and I will be happy to share information if you request it. 

Submission isn’t about a woman with submissive traits just dropping to her knees, nor is it about her just flippantly calling an assertive man Sir.

It’s not about quick and easy, yet meaningless flirtatious words back and forth on a screen.

Just as it isn’t about a Man just forcing her to her knees and automatically assuming she will submit.

And yes, this is being written as gendered, as I am writing from my perspective. Replace the his, her, man and woman with your own gender specifics personal to you when reading, as opposed to correcting me in my comments and saying I should write to appease your binary requirements. That works better for all involved.

Submission and Domination is about baselines. Consent, honour, trust, loyalty, love, need, desire, respect, passion, lust. The list goes on.

For me personally, to honour a woman enough to subjugate her, she needs to be special. Beyond fucking special.

I’m not talking about play submission. I’m referring to real Domination and submission that embeds itself in the body, the core and the soul of both parties involved.

The magic found in the soul shattering collision of real D/s. Not the stuff you read about in romance novels or watch in Hollywood directed movies. Not the acting found in bdsm porn productions.

The real shit. The type that moves you to emotional levels so intense that both parties involved cry when the intensity of a scene completes and the quietness begins to settle into the soul.

To find someone that you can share things with that level you up and make you understand your worth and theirs. To share things so rare that most will never experience something so beautiful.

To share something intimate with another that goes beyond vanilla realms of just sharing a few home secrets is a ritual so special and so fucking intense, that it takes someone priceless to step up.

A person that understands the value of kink transaction. Not the type of person that devalues it by becoming enamoured and simply chases a fantasy. A fantasy that gets their cunt moving, yet do not understand the reality of it being more than a few flustered and filthy words.

The type of person that chases the Hollywood romance found in movies, rather than chasing a soul changing experience that is lifelong and eternal. That’s not kink. That’s roleplay at its weakest.

What defines kink is sharing an experience that leaves both parties breathless and forever needing more, wanting more, exploring more, discovering more. Not an experience that satisfies completely. An experience that creates the desire to experience even more. To never stop wanting to experience more with that special person.

An experience that moves their fucking souls and changes them forever. A place where they both discover safety and the ability to be able to open themselves up to be able to discover the darkest and most beautiful depths of another as they discover how to both become one.

To share with another. Not just physical sharing, or fluid bonding. Way beyond that. To truly share. To feel another’s joy. To experience another’s soul shattering pain. To be able to help them bleed and relinquish that pain, that sorrow, that anguish and that grief. To be able to discover joy that can only be found through evolution of self, whilst bound to the discovery of another.

To become vulnerable. Truly vulnerable. To let down the walls built over a lifetime and to allow another to find their way in. But not just find. To be openly invited. To invite them to see your raw, your real and your most guarded self. To lay yourself open for judgement, yet knowing you won’t be judged. Knowing you will be unconditionally accepted.

Yes. The act of submission is so much more than just an interaction of kneeling and sucking cock. So much more than a hand around the throat. The act of submission takes courage to finally allow yourself to discover the you that you have built a lifetime avoiding. To allow another to touch your soul and bring you to life.

It is what sets your soul free…

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✅🔥 Thank you for reading. I enjoy creating erotic writing, erotic art and writing about the kink lifestyle. I write here and on my own private blog platform. I self publish my own eBooks and I offer one for free for those interested in reading. If you would like to find out more about my writing and my blog, please don’t hesitate to message me and I will be happy to share information if you request it. 

Short audio erotica recording. Press play to listen..