My Blog - original erotica

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..

Listen to her

and understand her silence.

Listen for those forlorn and painful words

that she refuses to speak out loud.

Look past that beautiful smile

and see the sadness that sits in her eyes.

Hold her tighter

when she tries to push you away.

It’s not impossible to break down the walls

that she has constructed to protect her heart.

It is possible to love her

even though she refuses to make it easy.

She will say she is fine

even when her world is collapsing around her.

She is simply hoping

waiting and watching.

Waiting to see if you’ll reach out to save her

or simply stand idly by like others have.

Watching her flounder and drown

when the ocean of life gets too rough...

She would lose herself in his eyes, silently willing him to make her his object of pleasure. To discover her. To use her as he desired. To make her his fucktoy.

She yearned for him to touch her, to relish in the way he would find those undiscovered and filthy spots as he kissed her and it created new hunger & old desires to collide

She needed to be restrained, used, beaten and brutally fucked. She longed for the feeling of him painting her skin with the strokes of his passion and create the erotic shades of her pain.

She wanted him to create everlasting memories for her. Memories of him using her savagely, but at the same time covering her body in a thousand sensual and lustful kisses, while his tongue traced her name erotically over every inch of her.

She needed to disappear into his embrace, to be bask in his warmth, to drown in his kiss, be enveloped by his tenderness and be destroyed by his brutality.

She needed it all.

She wanted it all.

She yearned for it all.....

She wants to be seen. To be recognised. To be understood.

Truly seen, in ways that enable and enamour her. Not just visually seen, but seen through an accepting heart that does not judge. A heart that simply accepts without prejudice or agenda.

She needs to feel the calmness found when someone can run their fingers through her mind and calm her very soul.

Where someone looks at her and sees the conundrum that she is. A power broker of control to those looking at her from the outside. Yet a world of unsure and uncertainty within.

She wants to find that special someone that can recognise and accept that she is both strong and vulnerable. Someone that will understand that at times she needs that safety net that protects her from her own choices, actions and risks taken.

She needs someone to accept her failures and flaws as much as they accept her submission and strength. Someone that can protect her and love her, especially in those times when she cannot find ways to even love herself.

She wants to be claimed, conquered and owned by the one whose actions speak louder than their words alone. She wants to give up her need to fight and constantly have to defend herself from the world and environment around her.

She wants to be noticed, to be seen, but most importantly, she wants to be understood and accepted…

She didn’t care about his looks, his body shape or his social position.

She wasn’t shallow or vain that way.

She craved different things.

Things completely invisible to the naked eye.

Yet full of strength and substance.

His welcoming embrace.

His unconditional acceptance.

His genuine concern for her wellbeing.

His consistent nature.

His courage when faced with adversity.

His considerations for her needs.

His calming nature.

His complete control.

When the storms of her world threatened to engulf her, she needed to be wrapped in the safety of his warmth, his love and his embrace.

She needed him to take her into his world and make her darkness disappear.

To give her that safe harbour, where she could ride out her storms in safety.

A safe place, where her demons could not penetrate and the storms would simply fade away.

I hear the saying "Beauty is only skin deep." Beauty isn't skin deep. Beauty is what's inside. Beauty is actually soul deep.

Warning : Reflections in the mirror may be distorted by socially constructed ideas of beauty, created by superficial and shallow people. But more importantly. No amount of foundation or makeup can cover up an unattractive personality, or hide an ugly heart.

Beauty isn't about having the fairest of skin, or the prettiest of faces. It's about having an uplifting attitude, a joyous spirit, a pretty mind, a kind heart, an accepting nature, and most importantly, a beautiful soul.

Some people try to equate beauty to perfection. Beauty is the opposite of perfection. Once you realise how beautiful you are inside, that beauty will create confidence, charisma and character. Those characteristics that allow you to share positivity with the world and those around you. And characteristics that make an impact and a genuine, lasting impression on others.

A beautiful face doesn't mean anything without a beautiful heart. No beauty shines brighter than that of a good, honest and genuine heart.

Beauty is not about being flawless. Beauty actually shines through your flaws.

External beauty only gets superficial attention. Personality captures the heart.

You create beauty with your attitude, your behaviour, your actions.

Why do we close our eyes when we kiss or dream? Because the most beautiful things in life are not seen, but are in fact felt by the heart.

When we look in a mirror, we see a reflection of ourselves and our appearance. Forget about that for a moment. Take a look at your heart. That is where you see the reflection and beauty of your soul.

Beauty. Inside and out.

A good heart keeps you beautiful forever.

You. Are. Beautiful.