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

Sweet memories

Yet another memory...

* * * * *

Strawberries are part of summer. To me, they are the biggest and best sign that my favorite season is here. We picked up a liter at the store. Freshly picked. I sample one as we are walking home. It tastes so sweet.

I pour the whip cream in a bowl and hand it to him. It is the one thing he always whips. I start rinsing and cleaning the berries, and we finish at the same time.

-Put these on the table and then bring me your posture collar.
-Yes Mistress.

He is smiling, obviously sensing that I am up to something. He quickly does as he is told, then returns to me, kneeling with his collar in his hands, presented to me as he has been taught. I put it around his neck, locking it in place. It keeps his chin slightly raised, and it is impossible for him to turn his head. I attach the chain and leather leash.

- Come.

He follows me like an obedient dog, keeping out of my way, yet careful not to pull on the leash. He knows he would be punished for it. I sit down on the couch, making myself comfortable and motion for him to get in under the living room table.

Another order:
-Take off my panties.

Using his mouth, his lips, careful not to let his teeth graze me, he pulls them off my body. I help him by raising my body slightly from the sofa, but he works methodically. First one side, then the other. Every now and then he lets a kiss slip in and it makes me smile. I know it is his way of showing how he worships me.

I take a strawberry, dipping it into the cream and taste it. Delicious.

- Slave, would you like a strawberry?
- Yes Mistress.
- And some cream to go with perhaps?
- Yes please, Mistress.

I take another strawberry, and swirl it around in the whipped cream, making sure it is almost completely covered. I take the strawberry and bring it to my cunt, tracing the outline of it until all of the cream is wiped off. Then I slowly push the strawberry inside me. I pull on the leash and that is all the encouragement he needs. Within seconds the strawberry and whipped cream are no more, and his tongue continues to clean me. The TV is on in the background, a common summer feature, a sing along show and I join in the familiar tunes. More strawberries for me, and more for him.

- I am thirsty, get me a glass of milk.
- Yes Ma'am. Can I have some as well?
- No, you can't.
- Yes Mistress.

He brings me my milk, and I continue watching the show, with him sitting on the floor beside me, resting against my legs. As the final notes of the song ring out, I grab him by his hair, pulling him down on his back on the red carpet. I straddle his chest, whispering in his ear that his thirst will soon be quenched. I move up and sit myself down on his face, and let go. I hear the sound of him swallowing.

He does not spill a drop.

As I get back on my feet, the red carpet is still clean. I am satisfied and his thirst is quenched for now. There is a faint smell on his breath, recognizable only to the few who know, who understand.

-Thank you Mistress.

I pat the sofa and he climbs up, and lies behind me, spooning. He wraps his arms around me and I enjoy being so close. In his embrace. He nuzzles his face in the back of my neck, amidst my hair. His head is still held in place by the collar and I have no intention of releasing him yet.

The night is still young...

Domme for sale?

Here I am walking down the street from the grocery store, minding my own business. Well, actually minding the dogs' business, since one of them was completely insane.

A car drives by, turns around and pulls up. The driver calls me over, and steering the two dogs and my grocery bag I head on over to the car. Having lived in this town for over a decade now I am used to people being lost and wanting to ask for directions, especially since the entire town was rebuilt.

The man actually wanted to buy me for the night, and at a good price too.

There I am, no makeup on, two dogs, grocery bag, jogging shoes, sweatshirt and pants that were way too big and I looked buyable?!

For a moment the thought of telling him he was trying to buy a Domme crossed my mind, but then I simply declined his offer politely, and went home. No need to insult the lonely. Had I gone home with him though, he would have found himself in situations he never imagined when he pulled over.

I am still trying to decide whether to be insulted or flattered. I think I will go with a healthy mix of both..

Oh My GoD!

I have been searching for good clothing for a while, and I think I just hit jackpot!

Hedony design, I take my hat off and salute you!

A knightly slave

Those of you who know me well, know that I am enamored by no other than William Shakespeare himself, and the play Much Ado About Nothing in particular.

When Shakespeare wrote his plays he depicted the life and love of noble women and men. Kings, queens, ladies of the court and knights. What most people do not know is that knights were, in some ways, similar to modern day BDSM slaves.

The romantic stories about the knights arose in Provence in France. Troubadours were the ones that spread the notion of the gallant knight, as the musicians walked from castle to castle singing their praise. The worshipers of these stories were young sons from noble families, who normally went without land since the oldest son inherited everything. They had no chance of marrying well, and instead they settled with low ranking mistresses and as a sign of their good breeding worshiped a noble wife.

The knightly love was only for the high society. The favors of love which the knights supplied were only available for the noble ladies and they, in turn, were the only ones who were allowed to treat their lovers cruelly and subject him to humiliations.

At my mercy, for me to use as I desire. Knight, slave, property, dog, whatever you want to call him. Hurt and protected by me. He is simply mine....

"2"

2 neighbors meeting, one lives above, one lives below
2 broken relationship by 2 intruders.
2 bottles of wine, red of course
2 huge glasses, taking half a bottle each
(Thank you sis)
2 hands giving relief to aching muscles
2 strong arms just hugging, holding
2 more hugging back
2 tears, one for each cheek
2 people sharing fears and hopes
2 seated sofa offers just enough room for
2 bodies asleep in a tight embrace
2 is so much better than 1

Musical magic

Music is something magical to me. To see, hear, play it can send a jolt through my heart. Something as simple as sounds bring me back to life. It makes me dance, both in body and soul.

A year ago I experienced magic.

I had been up on the dance floor at the staff party a few times. The band played the blues. I had danced with a good friend, and laughed at how badly it went. Nothing seemed right during the evening, the beat was off for both of us. Another dance partner and the same result. The night was coming towards its end, and the last dance passed. I left the floor and met yet another colleague who wanted a ride in the car home. I was the designated driver.

He asked if he needed to persuade me, and I said yes.

We walk out onto the dance floor and he begins to sing. Quickly he leads me into a swift and steady swing dance. We dance to the sound of his voice and I enjoy it. It goes wonderfully well, twirling and moving in harmony. We are joined by a man with a harmonica who plays for us. First a foxtrot and then the walz. Finally he plays a polka that we swing to. By now, the drummer has noticed what is going on and he unpacks his drums and begins keeping the beat.

Alone with the music on the dance floor I let the feeling of dancing take over. Following in harmony instead of leading.

I felt alive!

No pain, no gain

I am not going to beat around the bush.

Looks matter to me.

I know that the perfect human cares only for the inside of others, for their personality but that simply is not me. Like I have said before, I am not perfect.

I could like most people list a number of imperfections, just as I could list things that I actually like. There will always be someone who is better looking than I, just as I will look better than somebody else. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder so who those are will undoubtedly vary.

Recently I have been put on cortisone and today, for the first time in years, I am not in pain. Nothing aches, not my shoulders, knees, back. Nothing at all. My muscles are even beginning to feel soft to the touch, and that without massage. I can walk, move, stretch, carry heavy boxes and not feel a thing. It has given me a new feeling of freedom. Pain has not stopped me, but it has annoyed me and slowed me down. This newfound miracle has me testing my limits, and so far so good.

If it weren't for the side-effects, I would do anything to stay on it.

Cortisone is not just a miracle drug, it makes you retain water and increases your apitite. Simply put, it makes you gain weight. In the past couple of weeks I have put on far too much, despite minding what I eat. Right now, the doctors have convinced me to stay on it for another couple of weeks, then I have a choice to make. I have already made up my mind.

In the choice between no pain or no gain, I am choosing the latter.

I hate pain. I truly do. I am tired of feeling it but after all of these years I know how to handle it. I have also worked hard to lose weight and I do not want to put that back on, in fact, I want to lose even more. I am going to enjoy these weeks, that I know for certain. I will enjoy them, especially because I know they will soon come to an end. I am choosing shallow over pain-free.

Maybe I am a masochist after all...

A prison, anyone?

Somerset county on the US east coast has built a new prison.

The old one, built in 1897 is for sale.

For 200 000 us dollars the buyer will get a spacious victorian brick house complete with barb wire fences and an advanced security system.

A spokesman for Somerset County says that it could easily be turned into a store, art gallery or a restaurant.

Hmm, I think I could put that place to good use....

Birthday party

Another memory....

* * * * *

It is a varm night in early summer. My colleague is having a birthday party along with her husband. It is more convenient to celebrate 2in 1.

I am having a great time.

I do not know that many around here, but I find myself engaging in conversations with people I have never met before, and probably never will meet again. Dinner is over and it is time for us to go out, to go dancing.

I just have one more thing to do.

I make an excuse and head outside. The air is cooler now, still warm enough for me to enjoy the evening, but I know that my dress will not keep me from freezing for long. I enjoy the sounds of my heels against the pavement as I walk away from the others, seeking privacy.The sound reminds me of the power I hold, and makes me feel very feminine.

I like being a woman.

I pick up the phone and dial a familiar number. A masculine voice answers, asking me how I am, if I am having a good time. I tell him what I have experienced thus far. It is still early in the evening.

I give the commands:
- You are going to go to bed now. Take the chain and lock it around your wrist, securing it to the bed.

I can hear his voice change.
I love that sound.
He does as he is told.
I knew he would.

I end the conversation, and go back inside to join the others.
The music is great,the party is just getting started. I find some of my new acquaintances and start dancing. I am having a great time.

Somewhere out there a slave lies chained to a bed, unable to sleep, unable to leave. He is just happy that I am happy. His Mistress is dancing the night away.

Ol' blue eyes

Even Frankie wanted to be molested, attacked and abused....

Frank Sinatra -
Satisfy Me One More Time
Listen on youtube

Don't deny me, satisfy me one more time,
Barricade me and invade me, just one more time.
Sacrifice me, don't be nice, be wild and free.
Make a sex-pot symbol out of little old me,
Caress me, molest me, one more time,
Excuse me and abuse me one more time.
Excite me and ignite me with your sweet torso.
Use your muscles, my corpuscles, wanna go.
Assault me, attack me, lose control.
Let's smother each other in a good old strangle-hold.
There's nothing but loving on my mind.
Don't deny me, satisfy me one more time.
Compromise me, vandalize me, have a ball,
Destroy me and restore me through it all.
Demolish, disassemble and dismantle all my doubts,
It's confusing, I don't know my whereabouts.
Bite my ears, baby, nibble on my nose
Let your dimples put those pimples on my toes.
There's sugar oozing over from my elbows to my knees,
So cover me with kisses, get yourself some calories,
If you don't want me climbing up the wall,
Don't fool around my fertile ground at all.
While the cold is getting colder, just be sure,
Everything's up in my body's temperature, jack it up.
They're still a lot of groovy good things on the shelf,
When you reach the cookie jar, just help yourself,
Saying nothing, but the loving on my mind.
Don't deny me, satisfy me one more time.
Encore, encore, encore.

Yet another memory

I was once a student too....

* * * * *

D is lying on his stomach. Pieces of blue rope have rendered him helpless.

I take the red candle and light it, watching the liquid form around the flame. Not too much, but not too little. The first few drops hit his back. Involuntarily he moves. A moan escapes his lips.

D struggles.
He is beautiful.

A plan forms in my mind.
Holding the candle close to his skin,
I begin to let the drops form a pattern.

The wax is warmer now.
He is more sensitive.

The first letter, then second one.
It takes time, getting the shapes right is difficult
D moves more now, moans more.
Every drop makes him squirm.
I use the weight of my body to keep him still.

The first few words are uttered.

-Please, please no more....
- I can if I want to, can't I?
-Yes, you can do anything you want but please don't..

I gnore his plea and watch the third letter evolve.
It is easier, and I am satisfied with what I see.
His body is glistening, obedience makes him sweat.
D taught me a word in a foreign language
I am using what he showed me against him.

The fourth letter and then I stop.
I read it out, as one word.
I spell out the four letters,
a word I have never seen before.

There is one more letter, he tells me.
Despite the pain that I have caused him,
Despite that he could have escaped the last one.
It is his turn to spell it out, the way it should be.
Picking up the candle again, I correct the mistake.

Five letters.

Uncountable drops of wax.
I let my fingers trace my creation
This time it is as it should be.

Perfect.

* * * * *

Thank you for teaching me through your pain. I am still learning.
The book is in front of me, showing me what I need to know.
I will never forget that one word....

She's my man

For all those of us who like to strangle our men lovingly...

Scissor sisters -
She's my man
Listen on youtube

This town was built on muddy stilts
By the lunatic parade
It rains like revelations
Gonna wash these freaks away
Some girls wanna hold your hand
And some girls like to pray
Well my girl takes her drinks
With dust and rusty razor blades

As I lie between these covers
I wanna tell her that I love it
When she chokes me in the
Backseat of her riverboat 'cause

She's my man
And we got all the balls we need
When you taste that pavement
You're amazed
She smells your sympathy
So bye bye ladies
May the best queen hold the crown
For the most bush sold on the levee
My my, how word gets around
She strangles for a good time
And she kills my self-contro
She's my man, don't be too sad sonny
'Cause she'll never be your woman no more

Someday soon, this dank lagoon's
Gonna sink right into hell
They'll hide you from big ida
At the sho' enough hotel
The ladies of the evening's just
A tombstone in your bed
Well my girl eats a wounded preacher'
Tween two loaves of bread

I know she's up to something
But how can I run when she's just
Keel-hauled twenty-one to nothing
I'll stay next to the steel coal oven 'cause

She's my man
And we got all the balls we need
When you taste that pavement
You're amazed
She smells your sympathy
So bye bye ladies
May the best queen hold the crown
For the most bush sold on the levee
My my, how word gets around
She strangles for a good time
And she kills my self-control
She's my man, don't be too sad sonny
'Cause she'll never be your woman no more

All you need's just a fist of a tear-stained bunny
When the good ship comes to town
Who said loves a bitch'll sit next to me honey
Because this old boat's gonna run aground
I don't want to be the burden
Or your jealous bastard
I don't wanna be the tarzan of your next epic disaster

She's my man
And we got all the balls we need
When you taste that pavement
You're amazed
She smells your sympathy
So bye bye ladies
May the best queen hold the crown
For the most bush sold on the levee
My my, how word gets around
She strangles for a good time
And she kills my self-control
She's my man, don't be too sad sonny
'Cause she'll never be your woman no more

She's my man, can't you feel her comin'
She's my man, she's gonna keep you runnin'
She's my man, she's gonna teach you something
She's me, she's my man

An unexpected reunion.

I have had the pleasure of getting back in touch with an old classmate of mine.

We had not spoken for 14 years, basically half of our lives.

A lot had happened, and it was fun finding out what he had been up to.

Hey, I am a woman, I do like gossip!

The conversation quickly deteriorated. It all started with a misspelled word, writing cock instead of cook. Joyful banter followed, and all of a sudden it became blatantly obvious that he was after something entirely different than just an update.

He was trying to impress me with his "vast" experience in sexual activities!

I sat there in amazement as he explained to me that he had had, and still had, a crush on our 5th grade teacher. That crush had lead to him having sexual encounters with older women. He loves treating women like porn objects, and after a while explained that he had the same fate in mind for me. Meanwhile, I am getting more and more bored.

Conversation exert, not for the faint of heart....

- I just love wet pussies, he stated.

- Oh, is that so?

(Don't most straight or bi men?)

-Yeah, I remember this one older woman who texted me after we met at work.

- Really?

(The only woman perhaps?)

- Yeah, she told me exactly what she wanted to do with me.

- Ah, a woman who knows what she wants.

(Could she be dominant?)

-As soon as I got in the door, she got down on her knees.

- I see.

(Apparently not, boooring!)

- Yeah I have had such slutty women. Women that like a hard cock everywhere. I have had sex with several women at once, and and I have shared women with a friend.

- You have been lucky then.

(Do you really want to compare notes with me?! Boy, did you pick the wrong woman!)

For all ladies, and sportsmen out there

This was sent to me by one of my Lady friends abroad.
It certainly put a smile on my face!

http://www.iltasanomat.fi/videot/urheilu/1528434

Background:
An Austrian rugby team loses big in Vilnius: 0-48. Their way of dealing with the situation is a public strip show whilst singing "singing in the rain."

A very good way to do it if you ask me!

Notice the discipline of the men, as well as the young boy towards the end of the film.
I wonder what he learnt on that day.

I wish I was the one calling out the commands to that team!

Government funded whipping

Yet another piece of news...

* * * * *

In the Swedish town of Uppsala, not far from its capital Stockholm, the citizens are prepairing for an arts festival. However, this year it will be kinkier than most.

The arrangers of the festival, funded by the local authorities, have joined forces with a group of kinksters called Pink. Pink and its members will provide visitors with free whippings, and will also receive whippings from curious spectators. Of course, those only wanting to view the activities are welcome as well.

After all, whipping is considered performance art!

* * * * *

Government funded whipping.. yes I can definately live with that. I have the whips, now where do I send the application?

www = Wonderful web wishes

The www is full of wonderful items.. here are some of them!'

View my wish list on Wishpot &raquo

Laws change for BDSM

Good laws and bad laws?

The UK

A bill outlawing the possession of "extreme pornography" is set to become law next week. But many fear it has been rushed through and will criminalise innocent people with a harmless taste for unconventional sex.

Under the new rules, criminal responsibility shifts from the producer - who is responsible under the OPA - to the consumer.

But campaigners say the new law risks criminalising thousands of people who use violent pornographic images as part of consensual sexual relationships.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/magazine/7364475.stm

Denmark

In 1995, as the first EU country, Denmark withdrew sadomasochism completely as a diagnosis by a political decision in the Government. This was less than a year after SM and fetishism were in effect removed from the influential American diagnosis list DMS-IV (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). Both the Danish and the US decisions are founded on research showing SM or sadomasochism to be no disease.

http://www.revisef65.org/denmark.html


It seems as though I am not mentally insane, but taking photos of some of my acts may now become a crime. I am staying away from the cameras.

Chaotic

Two extremes collided.
Passionate as always.
Seeking death.
Wanting life.
Dangerous.

There are broken plates all over the floor.
Marks on arms, legs and chest.
Your wrist, my breast.
Blood on the knife.

Life is now
I am real.

Do not challenge me.
I will fight back.
Even for you.
I do not fear.

Nothing to lose,
but you.

And yes, I would...

Ambushed

My family members have started conspiring against me. My sister and her husband in particular

The phone rang, it was my sister who had decided that she, I and her hubby X were going to go to the movies during the weekend. Knowing that I have spent way too little time with my family, I went along with it. I shouldn't have. It was an ambush..

- Just one more thing.. One of X's friends is coming with us too. You have met him before, the singer of the band.
- Sis...!
- Oh don't worry, you will like him. We will see you on saturday at 6, then we can have dinner before the movie.
- Sis!!

My sister would make a wonderful Domme. We have never discussed such matters, but she is the one who runs her household, and her husband. (Sometimes I wonder if their relationship is a D/s one as well.) There simply was no way of escaping the set-up without hurting her big-sister pride, so it looks like I now have plans for saturday night. I am a dominated Domme.

* * * * *

Before Christmas my father decided to have a heart to heart with me.

-You should not be single any longer, it does not suit you. You should find yourself someone you can control and dominate, just like your sister does with X.

Maybe family members understand more than they let on....

How extreme is too extreme?

- I want to disappear for good.

- How do you mean?

- I want to be taken from the world. Held prisoner. I don't want to be allowed contact with anyone, not even my family.

- But I know you love your family.

- Yes, I do. I don't want anyone to know where I am. No traces, just disappeared.

- Why?

- Because it is not enough to be a vanilla slave. I need to be a prisoner. Don't touch me or say a word to me for a year, just feed me. Keep me hooded. I don't want to see sunlight again. Ever.

- You would be totally dependent. You would regret it.

- Yes I would hate it, but I would have no choice. Would you do it?

* * * * *

How extreme is too extreme?

Turn ons

I have noticed that I can be turned on quickly.

I can be turned off even quicker.

I was chatting with someone the other day and he asked the question

- What does it for you? What makes it someone you enjoy using?

I tried to answer the question but was left with the feeling that my answer was not complete. Something was missing.

7 turn-ons:

1. The submissive eyes - Sometimes I encounter those with the "sub-look". Submission shows in their eyes, it is like I can see straight into their souls. They hide nothing. THe one I talked to about this tries to conceal it, I hope he never manages to....
   
2. The conversation - As nice as smut talk can be, that is not what I am referring to. I am not going to put anyone down in words or otherwise unless I feel that I can have interesting conversations with that individual. There has to be a connection...
   
3. Physical appearance - I am not going to lie, attraction is a must!
4. Reactions - Different strokes for different folks, well that works in BDSM as well. I enjoy reactions, everything from sighs, moans or just the simple flexing of a bound muscle.
   
5. Control - it is so obvious that I first did not plan on adding it, but if I am going to list my turn-ons, it does belong here.
   
6. Selectiveness - Someone who does not submit to anyone but me, and those I order him to. Full of pride and self-worth.
7. The Gentleman - I have come across it a few times, and it always strikes me with awe. Some carry within them a different kind of gentleman than that who opens doors and pulls out chairs. Natural chivalry. A way of carrying himself that sets him apart from the others.. hmm.. I guess we are back to pride again. Pride in submission

Whistles...

I just got whistled and hollared at by 60 lumberjacks.

Talk about a confidence booster!

I wonder how many of those 60 would get down on their knees if I asked them to...

1, 6, 20?

How many men are really submissive, or at least like the idea?

Showdown

I have one enemy.

There are people I don't like but only one I hate.

It had been a while since we met and now, there she was, in the grocery store among the veggies. She saw me and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

I left. She hurried as well and ended up walking in front of me.
I knew she could hear the sound of my high heels against the floor.
I made sure of it.

Suddenly she turned, and walked towards me.

I let the Domme loose.
I slammed my heels down, I held my head up high.
Without missing a beat, without looking at her, I walked straight through her.
I could feel her body slam against mine as she was knocked into a side-aisle.

She was nothing.

In the corner of my eye I could see her fear.
I can ruin her life simply by telling the truth.
Out of respect for someone else I don't.

I pay the price for my choices.
She has to too.

Don't mess with this Domme.

An overly experienced Domme?

From time to time I am made acutely aware of the difference between myself and my peers. I am by now an experienced Domme, and what makes others cry out with disgust or disbelief is to me quite common.

A while back I was told that there was something I had to see, and someone sent me a link of viewer reactions. They were severe; the viewers were losing their lunches over whatever it was that they were seeing, some were crying and others laughing hysterically. The title to whatever they were watching gave me no clues whatsoever, and my curiosity grew.

Finally, I managed to find an exert and my own reaction was much less dramatic:

-Oh, it was just scat...

The thrill was gone.

Can one be too experienced?

Music..

There are different kinds of slavery...

David Bowie -
I would be your slave
Listen on youtube

Walking in the snowy street
Let me understand
Drifting down a silent park
Stumbling over land
Open up your heart to me
Show me who you are
And I would be your slave

Do you sleep in quietude?
Do you walk in peace?
Do you laugh out loud at me?
No one else that is free
Open up your heart to me
Show me all you are
And I would be your slave

I don't sit around and wait
I don't give a damn
I don't see the point at all
No footprints in the sand

I bet you laugh out loud at me
A chance to strike me down
Give me peace of mind at last
Show me all you are
Open up your heart to me
And I would be your slave

I don't sit and wait
I don't give a damn
I don't see the point at all
No footprints in the sand
I would give you all my love
Nothing else is free
Open up your heart to me
And I would be your slave

I once took a deep breath...

OK so I haven't been blogging much lately. I thought I would make up for lost time, and entries today, seeing as I have nothing else to do right now.

Starters.. An old entry of mine, a memory, now in an English version:

* * * * *

I am sitting here in front of my computer, just breathing. Breath after breath. The last 24 hours have been intense. It is hard to gather my thoughts in writing.

One hour left, I took his black T-shirt off him. The leather cuffs he had worn since he arrived the previous day are in place. They had been under his jacket at the restaurant that we had just visited, visible to anyone bold enough to look up his sleeves. Visible to me.

Now we were back home, in my territory.

I did not say a word when I stood behind him. He turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder. Quickly came the question: "Do you need to know?" He shook his head and then looked down on the floor in front of him again. Silence once more.

Without warning I reach out my hand, with the blood red nails, and swiftly drag them mercilessly across his back. A familiar sound from my nails, the feeling of skin under my fingers liberates and I enjoy it. The response is immediate. He throws his head back, pushes his chest forward, and falls. His legs cannot carry him and with my arms which quickly wrap around him he slumps to the ground.

- What happened?
- I sank. I am weak, you are so strong.

I stand with my legs against his sides, and lean his upper body against me.

- You are doing well.
- Thank you. Thank you, My Queen.

I was not done with him yet. He rests against my legs, I lean forward and kiss him. His head bends backwards to meet my lips. Wonderful. When the kiss is over he looks forward again, and that is when I stroke. Once again my nails scratch his back, and once again he collapses, now only his upper body and he lies leaning forward over folded legs. A tiny pile on the floor. So beautiful.
I sit down beside him, where he lies, I comfort and caress. The nails will have to wait, he is small.

I will make him even smaller. I bring out the rope, stand behind him and pick up his upper body so that he is once again on his knees. I wrap the rope around my hand, one lap around each, and then place the middle of the rope against his throat, tightening it.

- You can do what you want to me.

Big words and an even bigger submission.

I tighten the rope even further, making him feel it cut off his air, and he does not object. I loosen it and tie a knot behind his neck, saving one very long end. The end I bring through first one, then both of the D-rings on his cuffs. His hands are being pulled up towards his neck, he has to hold them uncomfortably high to breath. He begins to whimper a bit.

- I am so helpless, I can't do anything. You can do what you want.

The helplessness that he speaks of does not come from the ropes, but from deep within him. More kissing, more touching. Thereafter the command to lie down. He lays himself down on the side on the tiny rug on the floor. Another rope that I use to bring the rings on his footcuffs together. I let the rope run between his knees, and pull it upwars, so that he has to bend his knees, turn into a small ball. I attach the end of the rope in the one I earlier wrapped around his neck.

Now he really is helpless. I enjoy the sight. He bends his face, burrying it in the matress, from time to time meeting my gaze for a brief second.

He had surrendered.

Smut Meme

Unspeakable Axe politely asked if he could tag me to this meme. At first I had no clue what he meant, I felt as if he was speaking another language all together. It appears I have learnt a new phrase tonight. "Tag to meme."

It came complete with instructions from Isabella who created this meme.

Isabella : You’re welcome to post it on your blogs. You must call it the Smut Meme (obvious reasons, I’d hope), you must link to me in the title, and you must tag 2 people, and link to them as well. Oh, and you must post this little blurb of instructions at the beginning, like I’ve just done. Got it? Ok then. The idea is to pick one or the other, even if you prefer neither. I’ll go first. If you want to play along you can answer the questions in the comments.

* * * * *

1. Chocolate or Whipped Cream: That would depend on where it goes. On my body, definately whipped cream because it is easier to handle. On a partners body, well heated chocolate should work as nicely as hot wax does, don't you think?

2. Leather or PVC: I love leather. PVC is nice, shiny and feels good to the touch, but leather has a strenght to it that attracts me.

3. Outdoor Sex or Indoor Sex: Hmm... why isn't there a third option: Good sex! Sticks and stone may break your bones... so I am going to choose indoor sex.

4. In the Jacuzzi or In Bed: Bed. I like to be comfortable.

5. Bad Sex or No Sex: What is the point of having bad sex, other than to burn of some calories? No sex!

6. Dominate or Be Dominated: Dominate.

7. Thigh highs or Body stocking: Thigh highs for sure

8. Fast or Slow: I like to take my time. Why hurry when your man is tied up and cannot go anywhere?

9. Rough or Gentle: A gentle touch but not always gentle play. I like to mix.

10. Bite or Suck: I should come with a sign: Beware of the Lady, She bites.

11. Role-play or Reality: Reality, I am not going to pretend that I am your nurse, I prefer to be me.

12. Dirty Talking or Dirty Talking To: Neither, but if I have to choose, Dirty talking..

13. Edible panties or No Panties: No panties for sure, if I want to include edible items, we are back to where we started with the whipped cream.

14. Spanking paddle or Barehanded: Barehanded. My favourites are the riding crop but I still prefer my hand over a paddle.

15. Landing Strip or Kojak: Oh we are getting personal, aren't we? Landing strip. Kojak makes me feel like an infant.

16. Multiple Sessions or One Good Fuck: Hmm...since it doesnt say many good ones I am going to go with just the one.

17. Moaning or Screaming: I like sounds, both moaning and screaming. The best are those when you are moaning behind a gag... if I take the gag off you might be screaming.

18. Older Men or Young Men: Not too old and not too young. 5 years either way is a good starting point.

19. Three-way or No Way: Let's put it like this, only one woman.

20. Swing or No Swinging: I am the only one for my submissive, which rules out swinging. I do not share my toys.

Leaving the country

The Lady is packing.

Tonight I am flying to the Emerald Isle.

I am about to give a few good friends of mine a very good laugh. Less than a year ago I was packing frantically for a few days and they followed the events with amusement. I had prepaired everything in advance, writing lists of everything that I needed to bring and yet one thing did not make it out of my home: My jacket. Had I been going to a warm and cozy country that would have been just fine but noooo, I was flying to Iceland!

I need a service sub.

I mean, I really need a service sub!

This evening began well. Having recently been ill, I worked a bit longer than usual and when I got home I decided I had plenty of time to pack. I knew where everything was and all I had to do was to put it in a bag and zip it. Piece of cake.

Boy, was I mistaken!

In my closet hung a light blue shirt that I adore. I like the colour and the texture. It has been quite a while since I last wore it and I decided that this would be the perfect opportunity. I open my closet and pull it out. Months of sitting quietly in a wardrobe should, according to me, not change the state of my clothes at all and as far as I could recall, my shirt was wrinkle free when I hung it up. Now, well.... you can imagine.

I bought a new iron a couple of weeks ago.

-Perfect. Or?

I have now been battling the various creases for over an hour. The improvements are barely noticeable. I realise I should never again buy an iron without an ironer.

I really, really REALLY need a service sub.

The shirt is now in my bag. I will blame the wrinkles on the flight, no matter how smooth it turns out to be. It will after all be sharing the space with two books, two pairs of jeans, two jackets, one top and four pairs of shoes. (Yes I know, I will only be gone for four days, but I did limit the number of shoes...)

Two hours to go. I can't wait!

Songs...

Someone had the good sense of turning a good book into a good song...

Velvet Underground -
Venus in furs
listen on youtube

Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Clubs and bells, your servant, dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Downy sins of streetlight fancies
Chase the costumes she shall wear
Ermine furs adorn the imperious
Severin, severin awaits you there

I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears

Kiss the boot of shiny, shiny leather
Shiny leather in the dark
Tongue of thongs, the belt that does await you
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Severin, severin, speak so slightly
Severin, down on your bended knee
Taste the whip, in love not given lightly
Taste the whip, now plead for me

I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears

Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girlchild in the dark
Severin, your servant comes in bells, please dont forsake him
Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart

Good-bye!

I hate saying goodbye. There is simply no good way to do that. No matter how you put it, a good bye is still a good bye, even when disguised as an au revoir, a see you soon, or an I love you.

Usually, when I say my farewells I am sure that the individual in question is someone I will see again, which makes the parting a lot smoother. Life has taught me through berevement that it is not always the case.

Even though death is a very final way of ending a friendship or relationship there is another factor as well. I have submissive male friends whose company I cherish. Some, not all, of these are single and in search of a Mistress to worship for the remainder of their lives. I hope with all of my heart that they are able to find what they are looking for, and will live happily ever after, in their own storybook existance. Yet....

What happens if She forbids contact?

Female Dominants are often quite possessive. I should know, as I am one of those. My property, my slave, mine, mine, mine.... I guess no one taught me to share my toys when I was young enough to understand that, and now it is too late.

I do not steal submissives. I respect relationships and I have no intention of stepping in between a Mistress and her sub. I only ask for a few minutes of their time to share a coca-cola or two. Perhaps if I am lucky even a chocolate cake. I may steal their ice-cream though...

The upside of submissive friends: I have someone to laugh with, to share stories with and to get a hug from when I need it.

The downside of submissive friends: I never know when the goodbye I say will be the last goodbye.

Fellow Dommes, I have in my possession an assortment of lovely submissive friends. I will vouch for them as individuals, and would be happy to see each and every one of them collared, chained and abused by the right woman. I would be happy to act as a match-maker if necessary, on one condition: Please do not take my friends away from me!

Yet another song...

Someone I had not talked to for a few months finally showed up, and brought this lovely song with him. Merci beaucoup, mon ami!

Lords of Acids -
The ABCs of Kinky Sex
click to listen on youtube

ABCDEFG
HIJKLMNOP
QRS
TUV
WX
Y and Z
Oh how happy you will be once I teach you my ABC

A is for asphyxiation you won't catch your breath
B is for the blindfold that keeps you dark as death
C is for your cockroach that I squash beneath my shoe,
while I watch you wiggle and laugh at you (ha ha)
D is for my dildo that you will learn to blow
E is for your enema, I control the flow
F is for my flogger, I whip you so violent
G is for the gag in place to keep your screaming silent
H is for humiliation that you must bear
I will imobilize you in my sexual lair
J is for your jizzy, jerking tendency
K for kisses
L for love, and licks you offer me
M is for the manacles imprisoned in your feet
N is for your nelly little nimby so sweet
O is for the O-rings holding you in place
P is for the persperation dripping down your face
Q is for the quirk I use to whip your eager ass
R is for restraints to make the magic last
S is for sweet suffering that only you will know
T is for the torment that keeps you on the go
U is for unbridaled lust that only I control,
as I claim for my own your body, mind and soul
V is for the vicious urge to struggle in vain,
while I tease and tantalize you and eroticise your pain
W is where the wily woman walks
X is for excruciating X rated talk
Y is your the yo yo I yank upon your string,
watch you yell and holler with all the pleasure that it brings
Z is for the zestfulness with which you will submit,

Now I've taught you every letter so remember all of it!

Twinkle twinkle little slut, now I spank your naughty butt
Once I've warmed it you will cry, and I'll wipe your teary eye
Don't forget the lessons learned or your rumpsticks will be burned.

A-B-C you and me
K-I-N-K spells S-E-X
ABC's of S-E-X
F-U-N spells K-I-N-K

Ba ba black sheep in my school,
you'll be shorn of all your wool,
a lesson in submission another in pain,
after graduation things will never be the same.
You'll become my grumbling fool,
drowning in a puddle of your own drool.

A-B-C you and me
ABCDEFG
HIJKLMNOP
QRS
TUV
WX
Y and Z
Oh how happy I will be, once I teach you the kinky ABC
A-B-C you and me
A-B-C you and me
A-B-C
(A-B-C)

Read in the paper...

Here are summaries of a few articles that caught my eye.

"High heels give you a better sex life."
A urologist at the University of Verona recently published a study on the use of high heels. Maria Cerruto has for a long time been annoyed with the fact that high heeled shoes have been blamed for everything from random broken bones to schizophrenia.

"Since I am a woman who loves walking in high heeled shoes I tried to find something healthy about them, and finally I reached my goal," says the high-heeled scientist in an interview with The Times.

Maria Cerruto's new study reveals that a heel of about three inches is perfect for both posture and pelvic muscles. With that angle of the foot the 66 examined women's pelvics were in optimal position - which improves both pelvic muscle strenght and the ability to clench. High heeled shoes simply makes you work out these important muscles without knowing it. They support the inner organs and are important for women's health. Good pelvic muscles protect against incontinence, improves the sex life, and gives the woman more and stronger orgasms.

* * * * *

Justin whipped in new movie
Plays Madonna's slave
First she gave Britney her tongue. Now Justin gets to taste the whip Madonna plays a dominatrix in her new video. 4 Minutes To Save The World is the title. Latex and whips is the style. That is how Madonna will launch her latest transformation, writes The Sun.

In the very sexualised video the soon-to-be 50 year old popstar plays a Dominatrix, and among guest starring slaves she gets good company. Justin Timerlake and Timbaland are whipped and dominated by the singer, says the paper. The video was recorded in western London, and directed by Jonas Akerlund.

* * * * *

Brangelina news:

Angelina Jolie has her own recipe for solving the relationship problems between her and Brad Pitt: Sex toys. The other day she stocked up on a see-through black bra and a video tape on bondage games.

If you can find it in the paper it has to be true...

Updates

A few updates:

No more threatening premonitions have been made, and hopefully no more will be made against my friend or myself. Let's hope it stays that way.

I have managed to de-clog the bathtub. It was a nasty job, but I am proud to say I did it all on my own. Some of the items on the list still remain, which means I blogg too much. New item: mowing my tiny lawn. Add gardener to the list of handymen!

My jeans gave in, or more precisely a button. I wish it hadn't despite the pain that they caused. Let me be the first to say it: Yes I am vain!

My friend got in touch, I could not be happier. S means so much to me. Nonsense can be the most important thing in the world when shared between two people. I will be sending a text tomorrow morning, with the words " Hi. how are you?"

My niece is getting bossier by the minute. Still a sweetheart, she reminds me of.. well me. Time will tell if I was right or wrong.

Finally. I have now officially become mature. An hour ago I left my 20s and turned 30. I wonder what the next three decades will bring, heaven knows these have been quite interesting.

Another tune

Darren Hayes -
Darkness
click to listen on youtube

Been spending so much time underground
I guess my eyes adjusted
To the lack of light
I got
Covered in darkness
Covered in darkness

I have been waiting
Always waiting for something new
Happiness has always ended
In the blink of an eye
There was no one attending
No one attending

It doesn't really matter where it all began
All I know
I got covered in darkness
Covered in darkness
Ever wonder why I never really truly connect
Although my eyes are open
I can hold your gaze
But I am never connected
Never connected

I am famous for my generosity
They say I am the kindest
But it is easier to
Give than receive love
Give than receive love

It doesn't really matter where it all began
All I know
I was covered in darkness
Covered in darkness

Turning pages over
Run away to nowhere
And it's hard to take control
When your enemy's old and afraid of you
You'll discover that the monster you were running from
Is the monster in you

Better to hold on to love
Better to hold on to love
Change will come

It doesn't really matter where it all began
All I know
I was covered in darkness
Covered in darkness

It doesn't really matter where it all began
Cuz all I know
I was lost
I was lost
No, no

It doesn't really matter where it all began no no
All I know
I was lost
I feel lost
Lost
No...

Sanity

Safe and sane. Two keywords in domination. Unfortunately a lot of people in the scene are in it because of things that they have gone through, experienced in the past. Hurting as a means to handle hurt. I don't wish to diminish their experiences in any way, shape or form, but I have so often heard submissives express that it did not work outbecause of her past.

I have a past too. Does that make me less sane?

I see myself as a well-balanced individual with good insight into my own reactions. I have spent a large amount of time trying to understand myself, and others. I have always found human reactions and emotions fascinating, not to mention the reasons for them.

I have feelings...

Well that did not come as a surprise for those who know me, and probably not for those who don't either. I don't have any problems expressing happiness, frustrations to do with work, restlessness or boredom, in fact, I seem to be doing that quite frequently. In general, I am a smiling woman who enjoys her life.

What about the other feelings?

Over the years I have become a master (or Mistress) at hiding emotions not traditionally ascribed a sane or stable personality. I have touched upon this subject before, and even though I can articulate it in writing, in real life I still opt out when I have the chance. I tell "white lies" in regards to my physical scars, and I do not reveal much about things that has hurt me in the past, for one simple reason:

I consider myself sane and strong.

I have been lucky, that life has allowed me to experience both good and bad. Some things were difficult at the time, but they have since proven valuable both in my professional and my private life. I still have one problem I will have to deal with one day, but it is under controll. In fact, that very affliction has helped me face people around me on their level several times last year, because I know what they are talking about. I would not want to undo any of it.

So why keep it a secret then?

I am not a Domme because of my past. The desire to dominate has been in me since childhood. Yet I am constantly worried that I will be seen as one of those that are domming for all the wrong reasons, that submissives talk to me about. I do not want to be perceived as the result of my experiences, or much less pitied, because I am a positive and happy person. It seems as though I cannot stress that enough in this post.

Maybe I have a harder time reconsiling my past with my present life as a Dominatrix than those around me do. Less than a handful of people know it all. For now, that is how it is going to stay. Maybe some day I will be able to show that part of me as openly as I do my smiles.

To those who have braved my secrets, and accepted them without judgement, thank you. To those that still do not know, be patient. It does not mean that you are any less important to me, it just means that I am afraid...

Perfection on demand

A while back, after publishing a story I had written, I was asked by Secondfiddle to make an entry regarding my take on perfection. It has taken me a while to sort out my thoughts, and come to grips with what perfection is to me. At first, it seemed like an easy enough post, but I was very wrong. Still I am going to make an attempt.

The best things in life are the most simple ones. They are often things that we take for granted, assume will always be there, and yet, when we take the time to actually see them, they are nothing short of magical. To me, the sun breaking through the clouds on a grey day can mean that that day is perfect.

It is early morning and I wake up with an arm around my waist. Around the wrists are a set of leather cuffs, that I used to lock him in when we fell asleep. The feeling of his body next to mine, as I wait for the alarm clock to ring is one of being at ease. I am not perfect, but my imperfections are accepted. He knows that I am dominant, and I can release that side of me anytime I want to, but that is not why he is sleeping next to me that very minute. Whether I am dominant or not, happy or sad, goofy or serious, he is there because of me. He would love me even if I was a vanilla, just because of who I am, not what I am.

I can offer you glimpses of perfection but defining it, or even describing it is too complex for words. It can only be lived and experienced during fleeting moments. Still, I wanted to find out what Merriam-Webster says about perfection:

1: the quality or state of being perfect: as a: freedom from fault or defect a : flawlessness b: maturityc: the quality or state of being saintly

2 a: an exemplification of supreme excellence b: an unsurpassable degree of accuracy or excellence

3: the act or process of perfecting

(I have to admit that any dictionary that would state that maturity defines perfection has my vote since it is only days before I turn 30..

I am going to pass on the challenge to fellow bloggers: Can you show me your take on perfection?

Sometimes...

Sometimes all you need is a friend, a bottle of German Kräuterlikör and some music to have a perfect evening.

Friendship is underrated...

Until next time!

The Dark Side

The good side about the life I lead are all the interesting people I encounter.

The dark side about the life I lead are all the dangerous people I encounter.

Someone just popped up from the past. He calls himself a total slave, without limits, one who would even die for me. Never in my life, he calls every so often, wanting my attention. My affection. He wants to be in my heart, on my mind.

Today, his tactic was to make a threatening premonition against the life of one of my friends. I have had my life threatened before and to be honest, it does not bother me. When someone goes after my friends, I worry.

For every choice, every decision you make in life there is a price to pay. Since it is my life, I will pay what is due, but my friends should not have to suffer the consequences of my actions. I will do anything, pay any price for those I call friends. Sometimes I wonder if it is all worth it, but I will not be driven into a corner by fear. I doubt much will come of what he says, but still... Getting to the one he mentioned would be very difficult, and for that I am glad. In a little while, I will sit down and write down what was said, and email a copy of it to my friend.

Just in case.

More Music....

Another beautiful song...

Trustcompany -
The slave in me

It always feels like the craving
Is unfolding in me
It's just as bad as it seems
So I'm looking around
'Cause I'm lost when I'm down
I was blind but now I'm starting to see

The slave in me
And now I'm falling again
I'm so close to the end
I can see the slave in me
And now I'm falling again
Don't know where to begin
Can you see the slave in me

It always feels like I'm shifting
And moving the line
But I'm still falling behind
Now it won't go away
And the feelings will stay
I can see I'm starting now to believe

The slave in me
And now I'm falling again
I'm so close to the end
I can see the slave in me
And now I'm falling again
Don't know where to begin
Can you see the slave in me

I can't take
One more day
I can't stand
To feel this way
Take away from me
Take away from me

The slave in me
And now I'm falling again
I'm so close to the end
I can see the slave in me
And now I'm falling again
Don't know where to begin
Can you see
Can you see
Falling again
Falling again
Can you see the slave in me
Falling again
Falling again
Can you see
Can you see
The slave in me

Creativity

Creativity to me is the ability to express yourself, in any way, shape or form. Some do it through writing, some by painting a picture. Others need to act out emotions, and others still show their creativity by putting one note after another on sheet music. Whatever the method may be, I believe that we all need to express our creativity somehow, because I think that we are all creative.

This lifestyle demands creativity.

You are in a dark lit room, candles are burning on the mantel piece and everything is calm. Your body is arched backwards, you are caught, helpless in a hogtie. There is no getting loose, 4 padlocks attached to the cuffs ensure that.n A large ball fills the inside of your mouth, pressing against your tongue and stretching your lips, making it impossible for you to speak. The gag also causes you to drool, and your mind cringes with humiliation as you feel the spit run down your cheek. Curious of what is to come next, you lift your head a bit and look up at your Goddess. There she stands, beautiful and strong, and scratches her head. After all of the effort of putting you in the restraints, she now has no idea of how to go on....

No, that is not a scenario that Dommes and submissives dream of late at night. Every encounter does not have to involve something new and untested, but when routine sets in the sparks disappear. Should that happen, the connection, the moment, would immediately be lost, and very difficult to rekindle. It is however, not just the Dommes job to be creative, the submissives actions are just as important.

I have recently found a new outlet for my creativity. I have begun to work with leather (for obvious reasons perhaps) and I have found that I am actually good at it too. Right now I am looking for new patterns and ideas of what I can do, make for myself. Any suggestions?

"The world is but a canvas to the imagination."Henry David Thoreau

How to get yourself a Domme

A Dommes view on how to get, well, someone like me!

First of all you need to locate one. You could try going down to the local pub and ask the women there if they would care to whip and controll you, but that would probably just end in the humiliation of having drinks thrown in your face, and public slapping. Hmmm.. come to think of it, that just might be a good idea.

The BDSM community is ever growing and by now most countries have their own online community where submissives and dominants can interact. Some sites have taken on international proportions, such as Collarme or Alt. Some are more local but still quite interesting, i.e. IC.

Once you have decided where to search you then have to decide how to search. What are you looking for? Is is a play session, a longterm contract without feelings, someone to go clubbing with or a relationship with Ds-aspects? What kinks (though I dislike that word) is it that you need fulfilled? For some of you the list will be very long, for others it is simply about what the Domme likes. Whatever the case, you need to do a serious bit of soul searching before you go on.

Step three: The approach! The number one mistake submissive males make is to simply treat a Domme like just a Domme and nothing more. One-liners are seldom efficient, though there have been a few that have managed to get a domme talking to them with a good one.

3 approaches that did not work:

"Hi, I want you to step on me." Does that mean I should hop-to and to what you want me to? Nah, I prefer to do what I want to. Besides, I am more than just feet!

"Do you wear big rings and earrings?" Yup sometimes, but since that was all you wrote I won't bother answering. I am not here to simply satisfy your fetishes.


.. and one of the worst ones... I am not making this one up!

"I have developed somewhat irrational fear of woman known as gynephobia and also a hatred of them called misogyny. I have no known reason for the development of these two conditions. What I do know is that I now have dangerous thoughts concerned with causing physical harm to womankind. I dont want to bring this to the attention of the so called authorities because that will inevitably not serve my best interests and the county, state, federal systems of care often do more harm than good."

Ehm... fear of women..hatred even..dangerous thoughts.. physical harm... to the point where the authorities should perhaps be notified?! This letter went on and on in very much the same style. NOT a way to win me. I would like to stay alive!


The secret to finding a Domme is not so secret after all:

Be yourself. Get to know the Domme that you are approaching for who she is instead of what she is. Kinks can be very important to you and then you should try to find someone that matches them, but in the end, it is all about the connection between two people. If short-term play is what you are looking for the way that the Domme and sub interact is still what can make an ordinary session into something that will send you to cloud nine.

If we cannot be all that we are, then we are nothing. Dommes are women, daughters, sisters, mothers, just as submissives are men, sons, brothers and fathers. If we cannot be everything that we are in a relationship, that relationship will quickly become nothing as well....

Ten reasons to stop blogging...

I have often been asked to describe the daily life of a sub of mine, what chores fall on him, and what he has to do to please me. There has only been one consistant answer: the dishes. I hate them with all of my guts. The rest, well they depend on the skills of the submissive in my charge.

I have made a new list of chores. This time it is a list of chores for me to carry out.

(Amazingly useful, those lists!)

1. Clean the cages - I am afraid it is not as exciting as it may sound. This time, the only things I keep in cages are guineapigs and birds. Yet, that is...

2. De-clutter the kitchen - the kitchen is the heart of the house. That makes it the one room that should never be allowed to be cluttered, yet mine is at the moment.

3. Booby-trap the bathroom cabinets - Next week a colleague of mine is coming by before we go out for drinks. He has confessed that he ALWAYS checks out people's bathroom cabinets, he cannot resist it. The plan is to take out the tooth brushes and soaps, and refill it with whips, gags, and cuffs. That should cure him of his illness permanently. Question is: Do I have the guts to?

4. Throw away clothes - charity here we come. Only vanilla ones of course!

5. Throw away shoes and boots - this one actually hurts a bit. The heel on my favourite boots broke this week. I miss them dearly and am trying to decide whether to get them fixed, or to get a new pair... Hmm... I think I will wait with that one for a while.

6. Put the shower curtain back up - I just need to find out how. The old holes where the screws used to be are now way too big, I need to invest in a carpenter!

7. Put up shelves in the storage room - boxes everywhere, just as would be expected after a move. I want them in good order. I really need to find myself a carpenter!

8. Fix my car - it has taken on a new life due to a hole in the exhaust system. Lift-off any second. Looks like I need a carpenter and a mechanic.

9. De-clog my bathtub - Yuck, yuck and yuck. Sometimes long hair causes problems. I really do not want to, but some things cannot be avoided. Plumber, mechanic and carpenter in one, the list keeps growing.

10. Stop blogging and get to work! - I probably should have started with that one....

I had better get to work, I should not keep myself waiting. I know tardiness is something I really hate...

Snapshots of perfection

My own version of love, written ages ago...

* * * * *

We are walking across the cobblestones towards our favourite place in town. We are going for a taste of luxury, the day after payday, just like so many others. Quickly and with easy I place my heels in the right spots, even though I know I have your support if I would stumble. I want you. Now. I stop and pull you towards me.

Time is standing still.

Eye to eye on a square filled with people. Nothing is happening. Not that others can see at least. The wind has ruffled my hair, it is flying in all directions. A lock has found its way to my face. Partly it covers my right eye. A thin veil before my vision. It does not matter, the rest of the world disappeared on its own. I don't have to see it.

We are holding hands.

A couple in love, lost in each other, just like so many others this spring. You let go of my left hand and put the lost lock behind my ear. You touch my chin slightly in passing. Without saying a word, without letting go of my gaze. You smile and grab my hand once again.

I hurt you.

My nails find their way into your hand, into the soft tissue between your fingers. I know it is painful, hurts so much. I can feel my nails protruding your skin. I let go a bit, and then stab you again. I know it hurts more then. I want it to hurt. A lot.

You are smiling through the pain

You know why I hurt you. You see me as the one I am. You give me everything you have, your body and your heart. Perhaps even your soul. You don't like pain, not a lot of people do, but you love the pleasure I get from it. You see it as a test of your love for me, and maybe that is just what it is.

The blood trickles.

Your skin breaks. You never stop smiling, and your eyes never let go of mine. I meet your smile with my own. I lean forward and kiss you, my love. My toy and property. We are each others everything.

We are walking down the street.

One hand in the pocket, the other one is holding on to yours. Our heads are held high. Proudly we move among the ordinary, the normal ones. What is really normal? Our intertwined fingers are slowly turning red from the magic we just experienced. We are living life to the fullest. We have the courage to. We are on our way to get a cup of coffee.

An ordinary day for the unusual.