The Disputed Truth...

Tonight I was surfing the web for fun, and came across a forum where a submissive novice asked vanillas for help in finding a Dominant woman. Most seemed in agreement; Dommes are hard to find, rare and very special. One retort caught my eye.

"There is NO woman who is sexually turned on by dominating. The myth about the domme is just a myth, a fantasy of all those who find the idea of a dominant woman attractive. A controversial statement, but nonetheless true. "

-Says you!

"However, there are some women who enjoy experimenting with sex and they sometimes try dominating, playing a bit with whips and handcuffs, but it always ends in them realising that they are not turned on by dominating. If the girl begins to get horny during the course of the game she suddenly wants to change roles so that she can be dominated."

-Eh... no! Not ALL women

"There are of course women who enjoy being socially dominant, e.g. due to a need for control or because they enjoy being spoiled."

-Okey, I will give you that much, still not all though....

"Dominantion is directly linked to the testosterone production and I would bet my testicles that not even a woman who
receives testosterone injections could be turned on by dominating."

-I hate needles...in me...

This man certainly has his opinon clear. What does that make me then? A dominant fish? Sealion perhaps? Sometimes you bet more than you can chew. His testicles are toast.

Just say when and where you will pay up, I'll make sure to be there.....

More music...

Hotel California -
Eagles
youtube link

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself,
"this could be heaven or this could be hell"
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...

Welcome to the hotel california
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the hotel california
Any time of year, you can find it here

Her mind is tiffany-twisted, she got the mercedes bends
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys, that she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

So I called up the captain,
please bring me my wine
He said, "we havent had that spirit here since nineteen sixty nine"
And still those voices are calling from far away,
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say...

Welcome to the hotel california
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
They livin it up at the hotel california
What a nice surprise, bring your alibis

Mirrors on the ceiling,
The pink champagne on ice
And she said "we are all just prisoners here, of our own device"
And in the masters chambers,
They gathered for the feast
The stab it with their steely knives,
But they just cant kill the beast

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
"relax," said the night man,
"We are programmed to receive.
You can checkout any time you like,
But you can never leave!"

Caught, entrapped for life?

Kinky sex makes you happier?

Yet another news article.

* * * * *

An Australian research shows that people that have an advanced sexlife are happier than others. Couples that practise for instance S/m sex turned out to be more harmonical than those who practise "ordinary" sex says kk.no

20 000 people took part in the study at New South Wales University in Australia and the result surprised the researchers. The approximately two percent of the study's participants that practised sadomasochistic sex and so called bondage were in general more harmonical and satisfied with their lives than those that had so called ordinary sex.

One perception that previously existed was that those attracted to s/m and other forms of advanced sex had been subjected to trauma and abuse during childhood, but that is not the case.

The research also showed that couples practising S/m are not more aggressive or prone to anxiety than others. They were also the least stressed psychologically.

The researchers are not completely sure why this is the case, but one theory is that people with an alternative sexlife are more in harmony with themselves because they have chosen to do something unusual and are comfortable with the decision, writes kk.no

* * * * *

I can only speak for myself, but I know that the relationship that I am in, with all of its twists and turns, has made me a lot happier...

Keep keys safe!

Another news paper article translated into English, abbreviated version..

* * * * *

Man trapped in a chastity belt.

A man in Kingston, England decided to try on a chastity belt when his girlfriend was not home.
There was only one problem. When he went to take the belt off he discovered that the key to the chastity belt was missing. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get the metal belt off. Finally, he saw no other option than to call the local fire department.

The man's face was red when the firemen were forced to saw the chastity belt of him. He had lost the key. The men worked on the belt for over an hour before he was freed. The man did not notice his release. He had passed out from his swellings and pain in the genital area. He had spent the entire day trying to get the belt off.

* * * * *

Now there is a good quality belt, too bad the article does not mention who the manufacturer is...

Sandbox Master

We have all heard of them
Most Dommes have bumped into them.
We rename them Sandbox Masters.
Let me introduce to you a breed of men that have no respect for women.

I have just had the dubious pleasure of bumping into a so called sandbox master. For those of you who are not familiar with the concept; A sandbox master is someone who calls himself a master and just because of that title expects everyone to bow down to him, especially Dommes.

The short exchange began with him sending me a message

"I would like to look you in the eyes right before you get spanked hard with my leather belt!!!
Do you understand...???"

Now I cannot resist something as silly as that, I had to give a short reply.

"Ehm, no. Why would I want that?"

He did write me back.

"With my leather belt I meant because you are a woman who deserves it and needs it!!!

Oh come on! You will have to do better than that. My turn to rattle his cage a bit.

"Really? Are you one of those sandbox masters us dominants laugh at?"

Yeah, yeah, not the subtlest of techniques but hey, he earned it.
Still trying to gain control and put me in my place, he starts his next letter with an order.

"I don't call myself Master, and show your face when you are talking to me!!! You dominants, who are you?"

Okay, so he probably prefers a word in another language, who cares. Note the numerous exclamation marks and question marks he uses to emphazise his words. I suspect he needs them to underline his strength and power, something that comes from within and not from mere words.

Poor thing, doesn't he realize that he has been become my toy, instead of making me his?

Note to self

Certain experiences are best left unexperienced.
Enough said.

Passion

Have you ever met pure passion? Nothing but pure and unbridled passion?

If you can say yes, then you are among the lucky ones. Or perhaps the cursed.
I know I am both.

My father and I discussed him once. He asked who I was calling, texting, talking to while we were traveling. I told him who, and I explained why. He said that most people do not experience such passion. My wise and protective father gave me the advice to pursue it even though I told him it would end in disaster.

- At least then you have felt it, he said.

I was surprised.

It started out as an encounter among all the rest. A slave and a Domme engaging in a conversation about life, work and everything. I have never been the same since.

He was young. Too young. Beautiful and high-spirited, temperamental. It was obvious that he would be trouble. I have an unofficial age limit and he did not fit it. Yet ... there was something.

Suddenly our conversations changed.

- God, you have me...completely
- Why are you mine?
- Because You fit me... because i desire you - i want to be yours...i need to be yours. It is as if I have been your slave from the day I was born.

That was the first step, one of many. Part of me wishes it was still untreaded territory. Part of me could never live without it. What is done is done. We kept talking, joking, exploring. He called himself king and was quickly renamed slave-king. He saw something in me that had been left untouched, and wanted more.

Two days later I turned on my computer and was greeted by his face. I watched in amazement as his naked figure took out a roll of duct tape and started wrapping it around his wrists, determined to render himself helpless. Not the kind of helpless that can easily be reversed, but a complete and utter one. He was trying to make me rescue him. The expression on his face, his beautiful and flawed body, the way he held his hands, all was perfect.

That image still haunts me.

I knew I was being manipulated, provoked. Topped from the bottom if you will. I did not care. I wanted him as much as he wanted me, and this was my excuse to escape the restraints of society. To not plan, prepare. Be primal. Simply act.

Minutes later I was in my car, driving with broken headlights through the still of the night. Mile after mile.

I picked him up at a train station. He came with a backpack and a brown hooded sweater. He climbed into my car and we exchanged the usual pleasantries. I told him that he was going to pay for his stunt, and he answered that he already knew he would have to.

I started driving, making my way out of the unfamiliar large city. He was sitting in the seat beside me. His bag on the floor, his hands on his knees. I was struck by how intense every single word seemed. The electricity between us was... still is. Natural. Unlike anything I have ever felt. I turned and looked at him.

- I want you.
- You have me.

Chills went down my spine. At that moment I did. Or did I? Was I the one caught? We are like a moth to a fire, but I have long since lost track of which one of us is the doomed fly.

There is no love between us. No romantic desires, nor a future. Passion was all that ever existed. Since we met, he has loved, as have I. Over time, a strong friendship evolved. He comes to my aid and I to his in the only way we can. The electricity never leaves. Some days he is just what I need to bring me back to life, at other times I must run and hide. He is my angel from hell, and my devil from heaven.

We can never meet again for fear of the result.

Passion is a dangerous thing. It corrupts and turns a believer into a fanatic, a worker into a workaholic, and a sadist into....

After writing this text I am still confused whether or not I regret it. I just know it has been a changing journey.

Is passion what you seek? Be careful of what you ask for.... Everything comes with a price