"You make the chaos in me quiet and calm."
https://youtu.be/5hZi0PrqqsE
Your legs wrapped around me, Mister, as I croon all the correct words, unlocking you, cradling that intimacy. I need to wrap mine around you, my lower lips constantly drooling in desire, so base, so carnal, so easy, addicted to you, Mister, I need to whisper into your soul how much I crave you, your essence, your lifeline, your seed, you. Wrap your cock in my tortured cunt, weeping for your gaze, a smattering of pheremones, the yeowling feline, cultivating an atmosphere of idiopathic "Dark Horse" of male oriented individual with control-ish possessive qualities in their prospective dynamics.
Pity upon this willing creation, a wanton cunt, deprived of affection, none of the kind with your unique brand of possessiveness. Mister so shrewd, calculating and cunning. The Logician, ever Arkitekt. Wrap me in your train, protect me under your wings. Be jealous of my heart, hypnotize my perspective, alter and design my reality. Take pride in your creation, Mister, see how much you make me smell so lascivious creepers come near.. perpetuating the constant design of abysmal pursuit.. testing my loyalty on a whim, already knowing how easy this catch was, so willing, so enthusiastic, so perfect. "This is what you were made for," you consistently utter and convey every time I exceed your underlying expectation of personal observances.
Were you surprised by pet's random fact and quips upon Mister's personage and habits? You, Mister, are exactly the one my heart, my soul, my spirit had yearned for. Healthy manipulative control, from as distanced as you wish. Flippantly noting various behaviors, tics, comment, perceived intentions, clarified or halfway clarified miscommunication, (should there be.) Share a little with me that which is close to your heart. My sole-core desire, perceived purpose, which Mister claims, repeatedly. Personal conflicts wrestling between the illegality of the traditional expectations should I project, yet I feel content, and hunger. I want to see how far I can play this game with you, Mister. Allowing myself to explore my slatternly primal being, the freedom of contraceptive, wings of which I can glide upon to traverse the social patterns created by whatever "cultural norms" we humans and animals are evolving into.
I need you in my cunt, my nectar flowing freely most near you, most by you, through you. Mister, I need your kisses, whisper into this flower, weeping for your affection, gaze upon this tragic display of complete concession to your ideals, ethics, and way of thought. Of course, Mister. I belong to you, I wish for nothing but to help bring any minor crumb of trivial inconsistencies, proving beneficial, amusingly enough, hahahahAHA!! This is exciting, Mister, I like this. Teach me more, use me, I joyously participate in your whims. Mold me, move me, sharpen, toughen, soften, code and manipulate this so perfect raw material the unknown God has gifted to you out in this -prospected- illusion. No matter... Such trivialities shouldn't bemuse any except the true mastermind, natural born intuition, proficient in manipulating his personal reality to project within the impact of his vicinity-- intimately, personally, locally, regionally, and globally, if not universally.
The equally respected enigma, as quickly learned. Fiercely independent, yet almost piteously helpless.
"This poor wretch has a curious whim about her, why shouldn't I take some time to indulge in something so perfectly willing, although completely unique amusement in her entirety."
Care to manipulate this visualization? Is there a particular truth you wish to weave into this being, this fundamental truth, centralized upon you, all the pleasure? Only pleasure, pour out all that raw energy and sexuality, touch, touch only for pleasure, only Mister's seed quietens the chaos within me. Please Mister, I need to make you feel the bliss that which is my toll of this perfect pure as equally intelligent, yet superiorly so, gift that leaks through your cock. An act of kindness, out of the goodness of your.. heart?.. You take pity on me, this wretched pet, so starved of any purposeful and meaningful interaction that grips her at her soul-core. Yet taking in the delicious pleasures of the perfect prey. The "once-in-a-lifetime" fabled urban legend. The perfect story, so organically pure, the tragedy that should intertwine between the story of the perfect mind and the most sincere being that wishes to exhibit her particular brand of affection, so wild and unbridled, self-damaging.
Your smell, your sounds, your groans and moans, how your perfect cock responds so perfectly in these hands which you've claimed in word, weirdly wiring themselves into my psyche. Your words don't follow me, floating by.. Your words are seeds planted into my crumbled foundation of id. Your consistency waters, and sprouts, intertwining yourself to my inside, beyond human cognitive comprehension. I need your care. I thank you kindly with a unique affection to exhibit gratitude for your mercy and time, and energy. Displayed as my personal and very naturally growing hybrid of being your source to pour into, and your source to rely upon.
Thank you.
Let me show you that gratitude. Let me sing praises to Mister as my lips shower your head with suckling kisses. How perfectly firm, throbbing, held at its peak performance, the epitome of masculinity, the Rod of Iron, haha, pillaging and raping, the typical Norse mythology stereotype, destroying those believing in the Christian God, Mister, I remember. The Lord, you rise, singing praises at your godly sexuality, haha, my mind wanders in these amusing fantasies and rabbit trails.
You quiet the chaos within me.
I need you.
Is it your intention to groom me as you being my God?
The fulcrum of my existence?
The standard to which I fail in all traditional aspects, but exceed expectation in performance and intentionality. Especially in worship and desire to please, Mister, I need to make you feel good, tell me I'm a good girl, generously pour out your seed into me. Let me destroy your future. Your lineage of spawns ends with me. Their new home will end with me, in one way or another. I need you, I need you in me.
Please drink of the juices that which flows freely for you, Mister, the fount of yearning, its warmth fueled by the embers of desire, the perpetual cumslut, mewling for some attention, give me some face time, pay attention to my kitty, gaze upon me, shower my kitty in kisses, touch me in all the right places, make me purr in delight or moan in pain. Let your tongue explore my inner most part, to taste of the fruits of your whim, amusement, and passion. Eyes, gazing upon me gently, understanding my predicament, how much I need to please you, to touch you, to worship constantly, at your feet, between your legs, in the presence of your perfection, tasked with the duty I was created for, your pleasure, to be the cask of which your seed is spilled, shamefully, pleasantly, otherwise upon your whim. Pet shouldn't daresay speculate Mister sprays into her because of pity.. maybe.. creating a space, allowing me to truly be the base primal being I am, the seductress, alluring all to the pretty smells, beguiling, enticing, entrapping, in turn creating a serial of parasitic chain of the intricacies of our thread-tread of life.
A designed trap.
I need you.
Friday, January 4, 2019
That Thing They Say About Distance, Or Whatever. (Sept 13, 2017)
Travelled out of state due to family events.
A month away from my Mister is too long for this one. I was encouraged to blow up Mister's phone. I'm surprised I didn't break it, haha.
**8/21**
I have this gnawing desire to touch you. To have my hands in your hair, on your chest.
I fantasize touching you, you're reclining, relaxed, I'm straddling your lap, hands kneading your shoulders, going down your chest. Going up to scritch your beard, and I lean in close.
As my hands roam to the back of your head to twirl my fingers on your nape.
Light kisses on your temple, slowly traveling down to your cheek.
Adding pressure as I begin to massage your scalp. My kisses travel down your neck, gently nibbling.
I moan, "Am I a good girl for you, Mister?", causing a wet spot to grow on your lap, I move one hand to yours and guide it to the greedy and drooling cunt that you so expertly tantalize.
Do I please you, Mister?
**8/23**
Fondly remembering the last time I had my hands on you making Mister moan and writhe in blissful pleasure.
Worshipping your cock, pleasing you, Mister, indulging in all the good things.
Pet is hungry for you, Mister.
I long to press my nose into your smells, greedily sucking and kissing you.
All I can think about is making you moan. Pleasing you. Touching you.
Pet's cunt becomes slick at the thought of your face being focused and Mister feeling overwhelmed by the intensities of the peaks becoming sharper.
Your moaning becoming more loud and constant.
Knowing that I am your good cumslut, Mister, taking a small amount of pride knowing you enjoy my ministrations.
Desiring more of you. Lusting over you, Mister, pet hungers to shower affections upon you.
When I remember your moans, I find my hands begin to tease my inner thighs. Remembering your cock in my mouth, I desire you, Mister.
Building, pushing, enduring, I desire your seed, your taste. This cumslut begins to drip remembering, fantasizing next time. Mmm, Mister.
What would you do with me?
Pulling up the cock shot you sent me a long time ago, I pant with want, feeling a fresh gush of cum, lusting after you.
Frustrated my hands cannot touch, I desire the feeling of your hardness, so firm, pressing all the veins to the surface, your foreskin slipping over the head, dripping in pre-cum.
A cumslut without her Mister, what am I to do?
Your cumslut wants to hear you as you edge, Mister.
Mister, cumslut needs you.
Desiring your touch, Mister. Please tell me what to do.
**8/24**
Give in to the urge? How?
There's no focal point for me to pour into. No Mister here for me to please.
It's your touch I want, your smell I want, your moans I need, your spray.
Mister, pet does not know if it is discipline I need, or an outlet.
All I know is that I have this deep down need.
And desire.
To please you.
Only you, Mister.
**8/25**
This horny cumslut is becoming more agitated, desiring Mister.
Desiring an intimate touch, touching you or being touched.
Remembering your fingers. Imagining your beard tickling me as you build anticipation.
I sigh with nostalgia, overwhelmed with lust, Mister. Am I allowed to masturbate? Am I allowed tasks? Agitation builds and becomes an obsession. Desire for you floods my mind and soul when I am still. It seeps into my duties.
To remember how you groan in pleasure when my grip becomes stronger as I endure in stroking your cock, Mister.
To drive you closer to delusions and insanity, to pour out intense pleasure, to force feed a glutton, an allowed binge-fest of the richest sensation.
Mister, torture these nipples, they long for your ministrations. Suck on them as you please, bite, pinch, twist, however you desire my expressions, Mister, amuse yourself with my visage.
Play with me, tease me, spank this ass, as you tell me it's because you're nice.
Mister, my being calls out to you, longing to please you however you desire, please tell me, and your wish becomes law.
As I moan and writhe in bittersweet desires, tortured by distance and time shifts, Mister, embarrassed by romantic spewings, cumslut grinds into her seat, not even a drop of reprieve offered.
Quickly soaking these panties, holding back from a masturbatathon, starring and featuring Mister in all my fantasies, especially your tongue.
Please, Mister, tell me what to do. Should you be amused and assign a task, or should you be amused and further cumslut's sufferings and increase my desires and lust for you, tell me what to do.
Mindlessly twiddling my right tit as I watch netflix, imagining what it would be like to chill with you. Snuggled up next to Mister as you watch your shows. Would your hand wander on my body as if you were stroking the fur of a purring cat? Pet knows she would be content as a well loved feline, feeling your fingers stroke gently.
Mm, Mister. My panties are constantly soaked. Every bathroom trip requires several wipes, as if the need to wipe a drooling chin. Your cumslut has plenty to go around.
> M: I will not lie, I do enjoy the language and verbage that you frustration is beginning to produce. However, I am feeling generous and so I give this: You may release but, that release must be followed by 9 more, without reprieve. This is the task I assign.
Pet longs to hear Mister's voice.
Pet has the misfortune of not bringing any toys. Should pet fail the following nine, what is my consequence?
> M: Edging.
Hehe, Mister's tortures are delicious.
I will report when I find an appropriate time to complete this task, unless you have a timeline. As for now, cumslut is content in desiring you as I fall asleep, hungry, wet, throbbing, and lusting for Mister, and his glorious cock, his magical fingers, and his handsome appearance. Sleep well, Mister.
**8/26**
Pet failed.
After struggling between wanting to release all at once and wanting to just edge, one hand in my cunt, the other holding my phone, longing for you, staring at the seriousness of your visage. Pet passed out after a single release. Mewling like a pathetic kitten searching for her mother's teat, once a drop was given, exhaustion overcame me, phone in hand, hand in cunt, your eyes frozen, relishing in your generosity, bemoaning my failure. Us both already knowing pet would fail, and now to face Mister's tortures.
Mmm, Mister, this game is refreshing, an escape I long for, the familiar turmoil I reach towards. Allowing your cumslut to roll around in a puddle of perversion, my spirit spewing romantic affections, knowing it amuses you, how so easily this pet becomes so willing.
Should Mister find it amusing to torture his cumslut in embarrassment or with challenges in reported endeavors of secrecy and subtle perversions, or simply to watch pet become more and more depraved in desires and lust. I only desire to please and to bring you pleasure abundantly, Mister. I thirst and hunger for you.
Longing for the comfort of your presence.
Pet's cunt is throbbing, desiring you, Mister.
A strong urge to suck on your lower lip as I fantasize kissing you, Mister.
You like it when I press my nose into you as I gently suck on your scrotum. Some sick pleasure of knowing this cumslut is addicted to your smell. Your essence. My hands stroking unrelenting, gripping firmly forcing you forward. Pulling you back as you begin to moan louder, wanting release.
Falling asleep to the ache of your absence, missing you tonight, Mister. Sleep well.
**8/27**
Mm, pet's cunt is hungry for Mister's cock, fuck me, Mister, please. Fill my dripping hole with your hard cock, be pleased knowing this cumslut wishes to please you in whichever way possible. I will edge you as long as you can suffer the intensities, Mister, your pleading for me to relent will fall on deaf ears as I push you into depravity. Stroking, gripping, sucking, touching, pushing, and pulling. You are in my hands, Mister, your cock, the source of your ultimate bliss, me, your personal toy servicing you.
On my knees before you, my lips kissing, worshipping, my hands pouring out all my intent, desiring to become as close to you as I possibly can, Mister. Your smell wraps itself around my head, I am intoxicated. The sight of a glistening drip on your cock, Mister, and this cumslut cannot hold back. A drop and a feeding frenzy begins.
A glint of mischievousness and a touch of sadism, pet will push Mister as much as you will allow. As we inch closer and closer, my touch becomes more precise.
Watching and listening.
And feeling.
Mister on his back, his eyes closed, brows furrowed, legs spread, arms outstretched, longing to be restrained.
Pet's hands cup your balls, Mister, gently stroking, she starts kissing while her fingers travel around on your thighs and lower stomach.
Mixing pressures, light strokes and harder rubs. Around and around, waking up all the nerve endings.
Then finally, with lubed fingers, my hand wraps around the base of your shaft, Mister.
On my knees, splayed open, bent over, I drip. The only thought is to be split open by your cock. Holding myself back from climbing up and sliding myself onto you, Mister, please fuck me.
My grip firmly placed, and I pull.
Your first groan and I almost cum, watching your eyes shut tight and your head turn. My stroking becoming steady. Then another moan.
Pet whimpers in desire. Wanting to share in your pleasures, Mister, please, fuck me. My hands preoccupied serving you, my own cunt crying for attention. Mister, please, I silently cry, refusing to take from you, Mister. Wishing I had the courage to act without asking.
I moan as I watch your body reply to my grip becoming more firm, grasping the base with one hand, stroking with the other. Increasing tempo, and you suddenly lurch. A sly smirk grows as pride is stoked, Mister is enjoying himself, enjoying me, this cumslut is a good girl. Another groan followed by moans, Mister's body starts thrusting and pet's grip lightens as the tempo suddenly decreases. The urgency quelled.
Only momentarily, though.
Just as soon as your body wants to release, pet pulls you back, and builds once again the blissful touches. Wrapped around your foreskin, slipping up and down, running over your corona. Exposing the sensitive glans, cumslut eagerly sucks on your head, licking up every single drip. You groan and writhe, Mister, arousing me further, please, Mister, fuck this dripping cumslut's hole.
Tell me how you would torment me by edging cumslut's dripping cunt, please, Mister.
> M: Teasing your lips, deftly running a single finger from clit to hole, withdrawing and asking what are you.
Your cumslut.
**8/28**
Thinking about how your cock slides in and out of my mouth.
The feel of your cock, Mister, as I pull your skin back and suck.
Running my lips across your your frenulum. Listening to you groan, I lick your glans, slowly going into your meatus with the tip of my tongue. Enclosing your head into my mouth, slipping my lips over your corona. My hand stroking firmly, yet slowly, the other stroking your scrotum.
I moan as I watch your face focus on these sensation. Your groans making me drip, Mister.
I'm already afraid I won't be able to have you as I want you when I return.
**9/3**
Pet's cunt is so fucking engorged. Swollen and desiring Mister's ministrations. A desiring gaze into your eye, my fingers travel up to your lips.
Please?
I plead, Mister, a deep down craving to be owned by you, to be allowed, to give into my carnal lustings, knowing you enjoy every piece of me falling apart for you.
A small whimper passes through my throat, "hmm? Please?" So swollen, so slick, dripping, wanting your kisses, your tongue.
Unable to force my will upon you, Mister, I beg.
Wanting you to desire me as much, fantasizing your lips on my cunt, a spasm of desire clutches me in chills, and cumslut's clitoris doubles in size.
A heartbeat inbetween my legs, so hot, so swollen, so wet for you.
Please?
I bite my lower lip, my chin tucked, my eyes connected to yours. I dare not to look away. My fingers still gently rubbing your lips.
Hmm?
Please, Mister?
**9/4**
Lying on the air mattress, letting my mind wander to you. Musing on how you like to tease and torment me. Provoking me to express my desires for you, knowing each time I do, I am not allowed release.
A small whimper escapes through and I writhe in my spot. Drawing my knees up as much as I can. Squeezing myself into a ball. Wishing I was restrained by your hands. Or by your hand in something. Wanting to feel tightened down. Yearning to feel the deceptive safety of being in your presence. Unknowing of which direction you wish to head into.
Only knowing that cum begins to pool in my panties. This cumslut who thinks of nothing but pleasing you, exciting you, worshipping you.
Another whimper, and I writhe in my nest, panting for you, Mister.
Longing to see the glint in your eyes as you mercifully tease me. Your hand touching me. Drawing closer and closer to my heat. Wet and warm. My pheromones dumping relentlessly. Knowing that I make you as drunk as you make me. High on power and control, you build the anticipation by teasing, touching, watching, listening..
My eyes lock onto yours momentarily before they roll back as I lose myself in you. Another whimper escapes my throat followed by a moan. You pull away too soon. Always too soon, my cunt clenches, and a fresh ooze drips. Feeling embarrassed, I know you're pleased. You settle next to me, watching me pant and whimper, with pleading eyes. Your hand glistening, covered in me. I offer my lips, wanting you in me, any part of you in me. Your fingers rest on my face and I begin to suck you. Taking each finger into my mouth, licking, sucking, moaning.
Losing myself in you.
Unable to hold back from touching myself, longing for you, I pull up your picture, wishing I could be between your legs making you moan and groan in pleasure.
Mister, my cunt drips for you.
Trying to hold back. Remembering your touch, your smell, your sound.
Telling myself no, that I'm not allowed to cum, while staring at your picture like a depraved pervert. My fingers dip into my cunt, wet and very warm. I trail my clitoris, wanting you. Circling becoming more erratic. I'm already on that edge. Your eyes, sadly blurred in this picture, stare back, coldly. Your face unmoving.
I pant with desire, wanting to prolong my ectasy, but I cannot. Your effect on me is too much, I cannot hold back. All of a sudden the barrier breached and I try to stop, freezing myself. My cunt throbs in release. Mister, my edging fails. I gaze upon your stoic image and push onward, knowing I've failed, relishing in your image, as more cum floods my cunt. Oh how I wish you were here to torture me in this moment. To push me forward, a torment for cumming without permission. Mister, I pant for you as my body greedily sucks down a single drop of satisfaction, spurring on the deep down hunger for more. I want more, Mister. I want your cock. I want your cum, I want your moans, I want your thrashing, I want your smell.
I need you, Mister.
Curling back up into a ball, sucking on a finger covered in my fluids, I yearn for you. Closing my eyes, remembering you. Recalling every detail as I can, etching them into my bones.
Mister, I need you.
A month away from my Mister is too long for this one. I was encouraged to blow up Mister's phone. I'm surprised I didn't break it, haha.
**8/21**
I have this gnawing desire to touch you. To have my hands in your hair, on your chest.
I fantasize touching you, you're reclining, relaxed, I'm straddling your lap, hands kneading your shoulders, going down your chest. Going up to scritch your beard, and I lean in close.
As my hands roam to the back of your head to twirl my fingers on your nape.
Light kisses on your temple, slowly traveling down to your cheek.
Adding pressure as I begin to massage your scalp. My kisses travel down your neck, gently nibbling.
I moan, "Am I a good girl for you, Mister?", causing a wet spot to grow on your lap, I move one hand to yours and guide it to the greedy and drooling cunt that you so expertly tantalize.
Do I please you, Mister?
**8/23**
Fondly remembering the last time I had my hands on you making Mister moan and writhe in blissful pleasure.
Worshipping your cock, pleasing you, Mister, indulging in all the good things.
Pet is hungry for you, Mister.
I long to press my nose into your smells, greedily sucking and kissing you.
All I can think about is making you moan. Pleasing you. Touching you.
Pet's cunt becomes slick at the thought of your face being focused and Mister feeling overwhelmed by the intensities of the peaks becoming sharper.
Your moaning becoming more loud and constant.
Knowing that I am your good cumslut, Mister, taking a small amount of pride knowing you enjoy my ministrations.
Desiring more of you. Lusting over you, Mister, pet hungers to shower affections upon you.
When I remember your moans, I find my hands begin to tease my inner thighs. Remembering your cock in my mouth, I desire you, Mister.
Building, pushing, enduring, I desire your seed, your taste. This cumslut begins to drip remembering, fantasizing next time. Mmm, Mister.
What would you do with me?
Pulling up the cock shot you sent me a long time ago, I pant with want, feeling a fresh gush of cum, lusting after you.
Frustrated my hands cannot touch, I desire the feeling of your hardness, so firm, pressing all the veins to the surface, your foreskin slipping over the head, dripping in pre-cum.
A cumslut without her Mister, what am I to do?
Your cumslut wants to hear you as you edge, Mister.
Mister, cumslut needs you.
Desiring your touch, Mister. Please tell me what to do.
**8/24**
Give in to the urge? How?
There's no focal point for me to pour into. No Mister here for me to please.
It's your touch I want, your smell I want, your moans I need, your spray.
Mister, pet does not know if it is discipline I need, or an outlet.
All I know is that I have this deep down need.
And desire.
To please you.
Only you, Mister.
**8/25**
This horny cumslut is becoming more agitated, desiring Mister.
Desiring an intimate touch, touching you or being touched.
Remembering your fingers. Imagining your beard tickling me as you build anticipation.
I sigh with nostalgia, overwhelmed with lust, Mister. Am I allowed to masturbate? Am I allowed tasks? Agitation builds and becomes an obsession. Desire for you floods my mind and soul when I am still. It seeps into my duties.
To remember how you groan in pleasure when my grip becomes stronger as I endure in stroking your cock, Mister.
To drive you closer to delusions and insanity, to pour out intense pleasure, to force feed a glutton, an allowed binge-fest of the richest sensation.
Mister, torture these nipples, they long for your ministrations. Suck on them as you please, bite, pinch, twist, however you desire my expressions, Mister, amuse yourself with my visage.
Play with me, tease me, spank this ass, as you tell me it's because you're nice.
Mister, my being calls out to you, longing to please you however you desire, please tell me, and your wish becomes law.
As I moan and writhe in bittersweet desires, tortured by distance and time shifts, Mister, embarrassed by romantic spewings, cumslut grinds into her seat, not even a drop of reprieve offered.
Quickly soaking these panties, holding back from a masturbatathon, starring and featuring Mister in all my fantasies, especially your tongue.
Please, Mister, tell me what to do. Should you be amused and assign a task, or should you be amused and further cumslut's sufferings and increase my desires and lust for you, tell me what to do.
Mindlessly twiddling my right tit as I watch netflix, imagining what it would be like to chill with you. Snuggled up next to Mister as you watch your shows. Would your hand wander on my body as if you were stroking the fur of a purring cat? Pet knows she would be content as a well loved feline, feeling your fingers stroke gently.
Mm, Mister. My panties are constantly soaked. Every bathroom trip requires several wipes, as if the need to wipe a drooling chin. Your cumslut has plenty to go around.
> M: I will not lie, I do enjoy the language and verbage that you frustration is beginning to produce. However, I am feeling generous and so I give this: You may release but, that release must be followed by 9 more, without reprieve. This is the task I assign.
Pet longs to hear Mister's voice.
Pet has the misfortune of not bringing any toys. Should pet fail the following nine, what is my consequence?
> M: Edging.
Hehe, Mister's tortures are delicious.
I will report when I find an appropriate time to complete this task, unless you have a timeline. As for now, cumslut is content in desiring you as I fall asleep, hungry, wet, throbbing, and lusting for Mister, and his glorious cock, his magical fingers, and his handsome appearance. Sleep well, Mister.
**8/26**
Pet failed.
After struggling between wanting to release all at once and wanting to just edge, one hand in my cunt, the other holding my phone, longing for you, staring at the seriousness of your visage. Pet passed out after a single release. Mewling like a pathetic kitten searching for her mother's teat, once a drop was given, exhaustion overcame me, phone in hand, hand in cunt, your eyes frozen, relishing in your generosity, bemoaning my failure. Us both already knowing pet would fail, and now to face Mister's tortures.
Mmm, Mister, this game is refreshing, an escape I long for, the familiar turmoil I reach towards. Allowing your cumslut to roll around in a puddle of perversion, my spirit spewing romantic affections, knowing it amuses you, how so easily this pet becomes so willing.
Should Mister find it amusing to torture his cumslut in embarrassment or with challenges in reported endeavors of secrecy and subtle perversions, or simply to watch pet become more and more depraved in desires and lust. I only desire to please and to bring you pleasure abundantly, Mister. I thirst and hunger for you.
Longing for the comfort of your presence.
Pet's cunt is throbbing, desiring you, Mister.
A strong urge to suck on your lower lip as I fantasize kissing you, Mister.
You like it when I press my nose into you as I gently suck on your scrotum. Some sick pleasure of knowing this cumslut is addicted to your smell. Your essence. My hands stroking unrelenting, gripping firmly forcing you forward. Pulling you back as you begin to moan louder, wanting release.
Falling asleep to the ache of your absence, missing you tonight, Mister. Sleep well.
**8/27**
Mm, pet's cunt is hungry for Mister's cock, fuck me, Mister, please. Fill my dripping hole with your hard cock, be pleased knowing this cumslut wishes to please you in whichever way possible. I will edge you as long as you can suffer the intensities, Mister, your pleading for me to relent will fall on deaf ears as I push you into depravity. Stroking, gripping, sucking, touching, pushing, and pulling. You are in my hands, Mister, your cock, the source of your ultimate bliss, me, your personal toy servicing you.
On my knees before you, my lips kissing, worshipping, my hands pouring out all my intent, desiring to become as close to you as I possibly can, Mister. Your smell wraps itself around my head, I am intoxicated. The sight of a glistening drip on your cock, Mister, and this cumslut cannot hold back. A drop and a feeding frenzy begins.
A glint of mischievousness and a touch of sadism, pet will push Mister as much as you will allow. As we inch closer and closer, my touch becomes more precise.
Watching and listening.
And feeling.
Mister on his back, his eyes closed, brows furrowed, legs spread, arms outstretched, longing to be restrained.
Pet's hands cup your balls, Mister, gently stroking, she starts kissing while her fingers travel around on your thighs and lower stomach.
Mixing pressures, light strokes and harder rubs. Around and around, waking up all the nerve endings.
Then finally, with lubed fingers, my hand wraps around the base of your shaft, Mister.
On my knees, splayed open, bent over, I drip. The only thought is to be split open by your cock. Holding myself back from climbing up and sliding myself onto you, Mister, please fuck me.
My grip firmly placed, and I pull.
Your first groan and I almost cum, watching your eyes shut tight and your head turn. My stroking becoming steady. Then another moan.
Pet whimpers in desire. Wanting to share in your pleasures, Mister, please, fuck me. My hands preoccupied serving you, my own cunt crying for attention. Mister, please, I silently cry, refusing to take from you, Mister. Wishing I had the courage to act without asking.
I moan as I watch your body reply to my grip becoming more firm, grasping the base with one hand, stroking with the other. Increasing tempo, and you suddenly lurch. A sly smirk grows as pride is stoked, Mister is enjoying himself, enjoying me, this cumslut is a good girl. Another groan followed by moans, Mister's body starts thrusting and pet's grip lightens as the tempo suddenly decreases. The urgency quelled.
Only momentarily, though.
Just as soon as your body wants to release, pet pulls you back, and builds once again the blissful touches. Wrapped around your foreskin, slipping up and down, running over your corona. Exposing the sensitive glans, cumslut eagerly sucks on your head, licking up every single drip. You groan and writhe, Mister, arousing me further, please, Mister, fuck this dripping cumslut's hole.
Tell me how you would torment me by edging cumslut's dripping cunt, please, Mister.
> M: Teasing your lips, deftly running a single finger from clit to hole, withdrawing and asking what are you.
Your cumslut.
**8/28**
Thinking about how your cock slides in and out of my mouth.
The feel of your cock, Mister, as I pull your skin back and suck.
Running my lips across your your frenulum. Listening to you groan, I lick your glans, slowly going into your meatus with the tip of my tongue. Enclosing your head into my mouth, slipping my lips over your corona. My hand stroking firmly, yet slowly, the other stroking your scrotum.
I moan as I watch your face focus on these sensation. Your groans making me drip, Mister.
I'm already afraid I won't be able to have you as I want you when I return.
**9/3**
Pet's cunt is so fucking engorged. Swollen and desiring Mister's ministrations. A desiring gaze into your eye, my fingers travel up to your lips.
Please?
I plead, Mister, a deep down craving to be owned by you, to be allowed, to give into my carnal lustings, knowing you enjoy every piece of me falling apart for you.
A small whimper passes through my throat, "hmm? Please?" So swollen, so slick, dripping, wanting your kisses, your tongue.
Unable to force my will upon you, Mister, I beg.
Wanting you to desire me as much, fantasizing your lips on my cunt, a spasm of desire clutches me in chills, and cumslut's clitoris doubles in size.
A heartbeat inbetween my legs, so hot, so swollen, so wet for you.
Please?
I bite my lower lip, my chin tucked, my eyes connected to yours. I dare not to look away. My fingers still gently rubbing your lips.
Hmm?
Please, Mister?
**9/4**
Lying on the air mattress, letting my mind wander to you. Musing on how you like to tease and torment me. Provoking me to express my desires for you, knowing each time I do, I am not allowed release.
A small whimper escapes through and I writhe in my spot. Drawing my knees up as much as I can. Squeezing myself into a ball. Wishing I was restrained by your hands. Or by your hand in something. Wanting to feel tightened down. Yearning to feel the deceptive safety of being in your presence. Unknowing of which direction you wish to head into.
Only knowing that cum begins to pool in my panties. This cumslut who thinks of nothing but pleasing you, exciting you, worshipping you.
Another whimper, and I writhe in my nest, panting for you, Mister.
Longing to see the glint in your eyes as you mercifully tease me. Your hand touching me. Drawing closer and closer to my heat. Wet and warm. My pheromones dumping relentlessly. Knowing that I make you as drunk as you make me. High on power and control, you build the anticipation by teasing, touching, watching, listening..
My eyes lock onto yours momentarily before they roll back as I lose myself in you. Another whimper escapes my throat followed by a moan. You pull away too soon. Always too soon, my cunt clenches, and a fresh ooze drips. Feeling embarrassed, I know you're pleased. You settle next to me, watching me pant and whimper, with pleading eyes. Your hand glistening, covered in me. I offer my lips, wanting you in me, any part of you in me. Your fingers rest on my face and I begin to suck you. Taking each finger into my mouth, licking, sucking, moaning.
Losing myself in you.
Unable to hold back from touching myself, longing for you, I pull up your picture, wishing I could be between your legs making you moan and groan in pleasure.
Mister, my cunt drips for you.
Trying to hold back. Remembering your touch, your smell, your sound.
Telling myself no, that I'm not allowed to cum, while staring at your picture like a depraved pervert. My fingers dip into my cunt, wet and very warm. I trail my clitoris, wanting you. Circling becoming more erratic. I'm already on that edge. Your eyes, sadly blurred in this picture, stare back, coldly. Your face unmoving.
I pant with desire, wanting to prolong my ectasy, but I cannot. Your effect on me is too much, I cannot hold back. All of a sudden the barrier breached and I try to stop, freezing myself. My cunt throbs in release. Mister, my edging fails. I gaze upon your stoic image and push onward, knowing I've failed, relishing in your image, as more cum floods my cunt. Oh how I wish you were here to torture me in this moment. To push me forward, a torment for cumming without permission. Mister, I pant for you as my body greedily sucks down a single drop of satisfaction, spurring on the deep down hunger for more. I want more, Mister. I want your cock. I want your cum, I want your moans, I want your thrashing, I want your smell.
I need you, Mister.
Curling back up into a ball, sucking on a finger covered in my fluids, I yearn for you. Closing my eyes, remembering you. Recalling every detail as I can, etching them into my bones.
Mister, I need you.
Silly Moments with Mister (May 22, 2017)
Mister to me: How are you?
me: Entertaining fantasies, hehe.
M: -raises eyebrows- Oh?
m: There's a lot of making out going on in my head.
M: -smirks-
.....
me: It would depend on how much of my cunt you own.
Mister: Well, I've got a pretty good chunk of it.
m: I'll give you that.
M: It's at least 70-30.
m: Yeah, that sounds about right.
.....
me: Entertaining fantasies, hehe.
M: -raises eyebrows- Oh?
m: There's a lot of making out going on in my head.
M: -smirks-
.....
me: It would depend on how much of my cunt you own.
Mister: Well, I've got a pretty good chunk of it.
m: I'll give you that.
M: It's at least 70-30.
m: Yeah, that sounds about right.
.....
When The Game Becomes Hard To Play (May 5, 2017)
It's not easy desiring you. Especially since I currently cannot be your number one. I wrestle constantly with jealousy that rises out of nowhere and the urge to reclaim territory or repossess what belongs to me.
Except, the provocation bears no threat worthy of attention.
Left alone, anxiety and insecurity beats down like a tsunami, wave after destructive wave.
It's not easy, especially when all I have are words, the illusion of promises, coy flirtation, and objectified affection. I'm grasping at the wind.
You're too far away, my hands cannot reach, my eyes cannot see.
Arguing with you, screaming and throwing things, dramatic tantrums and promises of no more, threats of withholding and fending for myself because no one is trustworthy, all of this stays behind locked and barricaded steel walls. I never want to burden you. I punish myself. Silently crying while staring at the lit screen of text. Unmoving. Unread for hours. Vulnerable and neglected.
Unimportant.
Unwanted.
I know this is all false and a lie, but when the game becomes hard, they become my truths until you break the silence.
Yes, this too shall pass..
but, Mister, pet really needs you right now, even for a few moments.
Begging (Jan 27, 2017)
"So, what do you want?"
"You. I don't know how to say it."
"Oh?"
Sitting cross-legged, I move his hand closer to my cunt.
"Oh? You want this?" he smirked as he tickled my foot.
"Aaahahahaha! That's my foot!"
"I know you moved my hand there!"
"Silly."
"Why should I?"
"Pet has made Mister very happy this past week."
"True." Nodding. "What else?"
"Pet wants Mister to make her cum." Cheeks turning red, voice becoming smaller.
"So... what did you just do?"
"I used the bathroom?"
"No. What are you doing now?"
"Negotiating?"
"No..."
"....." my eyes squint and I refuse to answer.
"Does it sound a lot like... pegging?"
A smile creeps across my face, a sly sideway glance.
"Hmm?" His hand moves closer to my cunt.
I nod slowly.
"What do good girls do?"
"Stay wet for Mister."
"And you're very wet, Pet."
"Mhmm."
[Conversational Microcosm Writing Challenge.]
"You. I don't know how to say it."
"Oh?"
Sitting cross-legged, I move his hand closer to my cunt.
"Oh? You want this?" he smirked as he tickled my foot.
"Aaahahahaha! That's my foot!"
"I know you moved my hand there!"
"Silly."
"Why should I?"
"Pet has made Mister very happy this past week."
"True." Nodding. "What else?"
"Pet wants Mister to make her cum." Cheeks turning red, voice becoming smaller.
"So... what did you just do?"
"I used the bathroom?"
"No. What are you doing now?"
"Negotiating?"
"No..."
"....." my eyes squint and I refuse to answer.
"Does it sound a lot like... pegging?"
A smile creeps across my face, a sly sideway glance.
"Hmm?" His hand moves closer to my cunt.
I nod slowly.
"What do good girls do?"
"Stay wet for Mister."
"And you're very wet, Pet."
"Mhmm."
[Conversational Microcosm Writing Challenge.]
For Science (July 29, 2016)
The other night I spent almost a couple hours on a sex-wares website. A few different ones, actually. I had been on the lookout for sales since I've wanted to buy a dildo for more than a few months now. For reasons. -shrugs shoulders-
On this particular site, there was a 30% off deal and you'd get two free items, one of which was a mystery, a good bonus I thought. The dildo was easy to pick, I went with a standard beginners medical grade silicone, medium-firm, "realistic" feeling 8-inch All-American dong. (Cue fanfare and exclamation points, it felt that cheesy, ha) In order to get free toy number one, I had to spend a few extra dollars, which I thought, eh, while I'm here, why not? And picked out a toy cleaner, being responsible and all, then added condoms, because.. Reasons. Ending up still a couple dollars short of the free toy bonus because of the 30% off. Man! You guys are finicky! -sighs- FINE.. Let's see what I can do here..
THEN.. I had the creeping bravery-slash-curiosity feeling coming up and thought, "huh, I wonder how a butt plug feels."
Fast forward two days, my goodies arrive in the mail. I pulled out everything and laid them on my bed and proceeded to read all the writings ever on all the purchases. The bonus toy was a mini-vibe with three different head attachments, they're soft feeling, a light blue color, and required one AA battery. The other bonus toy was a mystery toy that turned out to be a wired vibrating egg, hard plastic and pink, requires two AAA batteries and doesn't appear to be waterproof. I decided to leave that one in the bag, it didn't appeal much to me. Besides the mini-vibe looked easier to use.
A quick once over of the package of condoms, tossing that aside, then read the toy cleanser, eh, simple enough. I proceeded to open the plastic container that housed my brand new dick, after a quick analysis, noticed a teensy-weeny flaw, and that it had factory dust on it. Yup, gotta clean that! And put it back in the box.
I finally came to it.
The anal plug.
It took awhile picking this one out. As a super-beginner, who, not too long ago had anal play on my hard list, is now an owner of my own butt plug. I didn't want one that was too small, and definitely didn't want one that would cause my intestines to plop out of my anus. Too many scary pictures of anal prolapse.
Yup, it's a thing. -shudders- (rabbit-trails to the dark corners of the internet is a stupidly brave thing to do, ha)
ANYWAY..
After reading a lot of reviews, I decided to go with the Doc Johnson Mood - Naughty 1 Silicone Anal Plug, size Large. (A few reviews complained the small was too small and after comparison to trainers, the large was almost the same size as the first plug in the trainer sets.)
There it was.
I try out the mini-vibe and realize I won't have a problem. I then decide everything needs a washing. Into the shower we go! The dildo had a nice suction cup feature on it so I popped it onto the wall and quickly get familiar with it. (Ooo, I feel naughty, huehuehue) Hey, this is all a science experiment. Serious faces and white lab coats, please.
As I'm drying off from my quick shower, I grabbed my butt plug and sit on my bed. A quick realization and check with google, I don't have the appropriate lube. The only one I have is a White Elephant gag gift of Astroglide X Silicone lube.. Not exactly safe for silicone on silicone... I wasn't about to give up tho, I don't have lube handy, because I never had issues with.. -cheeks flush-
So, I decide to pop it in one hole to try some of my own "homemade" lube and see if it'll be satisfactory to ease into the other hole. (Don't judge.) It wasn't enough. Ah, fuck it. The widest part isn't much larger than my regular sized shit. So I decide to go in dry, like a bad-ass. Fuck yeah! :|
Lying down on my bed, I gently ease it in, as to avoid the horror stories of ripping anal sphincter. -shudders again-
"Huh." I thought as I go into extreme clinical mode once it was in place. I was mentally comparing it to the one time I had anal sex (recently, in another experiment.) "Nope, definitely not the same. Let's see how it feels sitting up." Sat up on the bed. "Can't really feel it inside, just on the anus." Stands up now. "Will I feel it walking?" Takes a couple steps... My little walk around my room concludes that I can't really determine if I feel "full" as so many proclaims to feel with an object in their ass, or if I needed to poop.
I decide to leave my plug in to see how it feels after a while. At this point I decide to venture out of my troll-cave and make some food. The housemate walks into the kitchen and we have a chat. My internal dialouge goes something like this:
Oh hey, housemate!
Oshit oshit, keep it cool.
Pokerface.
Don't blow your cover.
Nobody knows.
You got this, just keep making your food.
Oh wait, is my ass burning?
At this point, apparently my anus started to feel like it was burning. I had a brief moment of panic as I went through the list of possible causes, such as, allergic reaction to material, the skin friction due to dryness, or anal leakage. That last one was a terrible thought. Forcing to mentally choose that it was just dryness/friction, I grab my food and sit in my chair out on the back patio. Soon enough the sensation subsides and I don't worry anymore.
Returning to my cave another predicament was rearing its head.
"Do I have to poop soon? Or is it the plug?" A few minutes pass..
"No, that's a new feeling, I think I gotta go." But I quickly remember anal sex. I felt like I was shitting on the dick fucking me and was super embarrassed the whole time.
"Yup, like anal, this feeling's like that time I had anal." A few more minutes pass.
"Nope." Run to the bathroom.
At this point I don't even worry about tearing and pull the plug out, turn on the faucet, drop the plug under the water, then do my business. That was a close one, whew!
I decide my experiment wasn't quite over, so after cleaning both the plug and my ass, I ease it back in and go back to dinking around on my computer.
Maybe about 30 minutes later, my stomach growls and I feel the all too familiar bubble traverse my intestines.
"This is gonna be interesting," I thought, "where's it gonna go if there's a plug? Am I gonna have to pull it out to fart? Or shift it sideways to let it squeak out?" At this point I don't want to mess with my plug any more than I had to, but I can feel the bubble growing. I shift in my seat on my couch and feel a squeak.
"The fuck was that?" Shifting again, more poofs and pffs. A really confused face develops. Putting the pieces together.. The wheels turning..
"The plug is shaped in such a way that it fits in your ass nicely. The tapered bulb with a stem and a flared base. The stem comfortably fills your anal sphincter and the bulb sits right on top of that sphincter, the flare on the other side... Apparently as I shift my body, the bulb will shift accordingly and air will pass, so I won't have to pull the plug out or to the side." And the puzzle is complete. Fuck.
Dance.
If you have a butt plug in, you gotta do a fart dance to get the air out.
On this particular site, there was a 30% off deal and you'd get two free items, one of which was a mystery, a good bonus I thought. The dildo was easy to pick, I went with a standard beginners medical grade silicone, medium-firm, "realistic" feeling 8-inch All-American dong. (Cue fanfare and exclamation points, it felt that cheesy, ha) In order to get free toy number one, I had to spend a few extra dollars, which I thought, eh, while I'm here, why not? And picked out a toy cleaner, being responsible and all, then added condoms, because.. Reasons. Ending up still a couple dollars short of the free toy bonus because of the 30% off. Man! You guys are finicky! -sighs- FINE.. Let's see what I can do here..
THEN.. I had the creeping bravery-slash-curiosity feeling coming up and thought, "huh, I wonder how a butt plug feels."
Fast forward two days, my goodies arrive in the mail. I pulled out everything and laid them on my bed and proceeded to read all the writings ever on all the purchases. The bonus toy was a mini-vibe with three different head attachments, they're soft feeling, a light blue color, and required one AA battery. The other bonus toy was a mystery toy that turned out to be a wired vibrating egg, hard plastic and pink, requires two AAA batteries and doesn't appear to be waterproof. I decided to leave that one in the bag, it didn't appeal much to me. Besides the mini-vibe looked easier to use.
A quick once over of the package of condoms, tossing that aside, then read the toy cleanser, eh, simple enough. I proceeded to open the plastic container that housed my brand new dick, after a quick analysis, noticed a teensy-weeny flaw, and that it had factory dust on it. Yup, gotta clean that! And put it back in the box.
I finally came to it.
The anal plug.
It took awhile picking this one out. As a super-beginner, who, not too long ago had anal play on my hard list, is now an owner of my own butt plug. I didn't want one that was too small, and definitely didn't want one that would cause my intestines to plop out of my anus. Too many scary pictures of anal prolapse.
Yup, it's a thing. -shudders- (rabbit-trails to the dark corners of the internet is a stupidly brave thing to do, ha)
ANYWAY..
After reading a lot of reviews, I decided to go with the Doc Johnson Mood - Naughty 1 Silicone Anal Plug, size Large. (A few reviews complained the small was too small and after comparison to trainers, the large was almost the same size as the first plug in the trainer sets.)
There it was.
I try out the mini-vibe and realize I won't have a problem. I then decide everything needs a washing. Into the shower we go! The dildo had a nice suction cup feature on it so I popped it onto the wall and quickly get familiar with it. (Ooo, I feel naughty, huehuehue) Hey, this is all a science experiment. Serious faces and white lab coats, please.
As I'm drying off from my quick shower, I grabbed my butt plug and sit on my bed. A quick realization and check with google, I don't have the appropriate lube. The only one I have is a White Elephant gag gift of Astroglide X Silicone lube.. Not exactly safe for silicone on silicone... I wasn't about to give up tho, I don't have lube handy, because I never had issues with.. -cheeks flush-
So, I decide to pop it in one hole to try some of my own "homemade" lube and see if it'll be satisfactory to ease into the other hole. (Don't judge.) It wasn't enough. Ah, fuck it. The widest part isn't much larger than my regular sized shit. So I decide to go in dry, like a bad-ass. Fuck yeah! :|
Lying down on my bed, I gently ease it in, as to avoid the horror stories of ripping anal sphincter. -shudders again-
"Huh." I thought as I go into extreme clinical mode once it was in place. I was mentally comparing it to the one time I had anal sex (recently, in another experiment.) "Nope, definitely not the same. Let's see how it feels sitting up." Sat up on the bed. "Can't really feel it inside, just on the anus." Stands up now. "Will I feel it walking?" Takes a couple steps... My little walk around my room concludes that I can't really determine if I feel "full" as so many proclaims to feel with an object in their ass, or if I needed to poop.
I decide to leave my plug in to see how it feels after a while. At this point I decide to venture out of my troll-cave and make some food. The housemate walks into the kitchen and we have a chat. My internal dialouge goes something like this:
Oh hey, housemate!
Oshit oshit, keep it cool.
Pokerface.
Don't blow your cover.
Nobody knows.
You got this, just keep making your food.
Oh wait, is my ass burning?
At this point, apparently my anus started to feel like it was burning. I had a brief moment of panic as I went through the list of possible causes, such as, allergic reaction to material, the skin friction due to dryness, or anal leakage. That last one was a terrible thought. Forcing to mentally choose that it was just dryness/friction, I grab my food and sit in my chair out on the back patio. Soon enough the sensation subsides and I don't worry anymore.
Returning to my cave another predicament was rearing its head.
"Do I have to poop soon? Or is it the plug?" A few minutes pass..
"No, that's a new feeling, I think I gotta go." But I quickly remember anal sex. I felt like I was shitting on the dick fucking me and was super embarrassed the whole time.
"Yup, like anal, this feeling's like that time I had anal." A few more minutes pass.
"Nope." Run to the bathroom.
At this point I don't even worry about tearing and pull the plug out, turn on the faucet, drop the plug under the water, then do my business. That was a close one, whew!
I decide my experiment wasn't quite over, so after cleaning both the plug and my ass, I ease it back in and go back to dinking around on my computer.
Maybe about 30 minutes later, my stomach growls and I feel the all too familiar bubble traverse my intestines.
"This is gonna be interesting," I thought, "where's it gonna go if there's a plug? Am I gonna have to pull it out to fart? Or shift it sideways to let it squeak out?" At this point I don't want to mess with my plug any more than I had to, but I can feel the bubble growing. I shift in my seat on my couch and feel a squeak.
"The fuck was that?" Shifting again, more poofs and pffs. A really confused face develops. Putting the pieces together.. The wheels turning..
"The plug is shaped in such a way that it fits in your ass nicely. The tapered bulb with a stem and a flared base. The stem comfortably fills your anal sphincter and the bulb sits right on top of that sphincter, the flare on the other side... Apparently as I shift my body, the bulb will shift accordingly and air will pass, so I won't have to pull the plug out or to the side." And the puzzle is complete. Fuck.
Dance.
If you have a butt plug in, you gotta do a fart dance to get the air out.
Psycho-babble (Jan 18, 2016)
I'm going crazy. I'm so unmotivated, yet thoughts are running rampant through my mind. It's a quiet freakout. I want to talk to people yet I'm pushing them away. I know I'm loved, yet I think I'm bothersome. The desire to information gather cancelled out by complete apathy. I care, but I don't. I'm nosy, but no longer curious. The mindless chatter ping ponging back and forth in an empty warehouse. I feel merciless towards myself, yet deserving.
I'm overrun with controversies and conundrums I don't even know what's happening anymore. So I try to shut down, but I can't because I'm literally going crazy for no reason at all. I'm constantly checking for responses and new information. I feel like an attention whore but I'm hiding. PAY ATTENTION TO ME!! Oh, but I don't want to inconvenience you. If you're busy and otherwise preoccupied, I'll be fine, just sitting in my corner over here.. Going crazy by myself.
I really don't have anything worthwhile to say. I just want some company and companionship. I would even settle for being in your presence. (sighs.) That seems a bit desperate of me. I guess I really am pathetic and immature, like an overly loyal puppy, or attention-demanding kitty. I feel like I need a new hobby, something else to distract me.
Wait a minute, I recognize this place. I've been here many times throughout my life. Before every major transition and life moment. This place reeks of stagnant air and anticipation, dreaded fear and complete boredom. This place is the waiting room.
Limbo. Emptiness. I'm going crazy.
Somebody please distract me.
I'm overrun with controversies and conundrums I don't even know what's happening anymore. So I try to shut down, but I can't because I'm literally going crazy for no reason at all. I'm constantly checking for responses and new information. I feel like an attention whore but I'm hiding. PAY ATTENTION TO ME!! Oh, but I don't want to inconvenience you. If you're busy and otherwise preoccupied, I'll be fine, just sitting in my corner over here.. Going crazy by myself.
I really don't have anything worthwhile to say. I just want some company and companionship. I would even settle for being in your presence. (sighs.) That seems a bit desperate of me. I guess I really am pathetic and immature, like an overly loyal puppy, or attention-demanding kitty. I feel like I need a new hobby, something else to distract me.
Wait a minute, I recognize this place. I've been here many times throughout my life. Before every major transition and life moment. This place reeks of stagnant air and anticipation, dreaded fear and complete boredom. This place is the waiting room.
Limbo. Emptiness. I'm going crazy.
Somebody please distract me.
Feeding Time (Dec 2, 2015)
Suddenly thrown up against a brick wall your strong hand around my neck. A small whimper escapes my lips.
"Don't scream, or I'll rip out your throat, girly," you growl into my ear, bright-eyed, your teeth glistening through the murkiness. The smell of the dark alley rises up and suddenly my stomach clenches violently. My hands dig into your wrist, panicking, struggling to free myself. You bite my breast hard enough to make my eyes water. The more I struggle, the harder you bite.
"I love it when you struggle," you mused quietly, grinning to yourself. Your other hand slowly moves up my leg, I'm suddenly paralyzed. I feel my knee being picked up and you pin it against the wall with your body. I feel exposed and vulnerable. You brush my skirt up to my waist, as another whimper of fear escapes my lips. I hear you chuckle as your fingers tease my inner thighs. You finally run them over my panties, a teasing brush and I gasp loudly.
"Oh?," your eyebrows rising, enjoying my embarrassment. You bring your fingers up to your nose and inhale deeply, "Mmmm, makes me hungry." Another whimper escapes my trapped throat. I try to buck off your grip and you impulsively slam me back, smacking my head against the wall. Clenching, your grip tightening, making sure I can't run away. My breathing becoming labored.
"So fucking hot, little girly." Your free hand on my panties once again. You begin to curl your finger around them and start stroking the soft flesh just beneath, lightly dragging your nails across, teasing and tickling. Not quite touching my clit. Your teeth find my breast again and you bite, I gasp hard and begin panting. A chuckle and a smirk on your face. Your soft beard tickling and rubbing back and forth on my collarbone and another bite, and another. I whimper in pain and my cheeks blush in shame as my panties become wet.
The sticky warmth covering your fingers, you bring your hand back up and taste me. My eyes widen in fear as it dawned on me what you planned to do. Your face filled with intent, desire, and insatiable passion. Your bright eyes staring directly into mine.
"Mmmm," you chuckle, a wicked grin across your face.
"Feeding time."
"Don't scream, or I'll rip out your throat, girly," you growl into my ear, bright-eyed, your teeth glistening through the murkiness. The smell of the dark alley rises up and suddenly my stomach clenches violently. My hands dig into your wrist, panicking, struggling to free myself. You bite my breast hard enough to make my eyes water. The more I struggle, the harder you bite.
"I love it when you struggle," you mused quietly, grinning to yourself. Your other hand slowly moves up my leg, I'm suddenly paralyzed. I feel my knee being picked up and you pin it against the wall with your body. I feel exposed and vulnerable. You brush my skirt up to my waist, as another whimper of fear escapes my lips. I hear you chuckle as your fingers tease my inner thighs. You finally run them over my panties, a teasing brush and I gasp loudly.
"Oh?," your eyebrows rising, enjoying my embarrassment. You bring your fingers up to your nose and inhale deeply, "Mmmm, makes me hungry." Another whimper escapes my trapped throat. I try to buck off your grip and you impulsively slam me back, smacking my head against the wall. Clenching, your grip tightening, making sure I can't run away. My breathing becoming labored.
"So fucking hot, little girly." Your free hand on my panties once again. You begin to curl your finger around them and start stroking the soft flesh just beneath, lightly dragging your nails across, teasing and tickling. Not quite touching my clit. Your teeth find my breast again and you bite, I gasp hard and begin panting. A chuckle and a smirk on your face. Your soft beard tickling and rubbing back and forth on my collarbone and another bite, and another. I whimper in pain and my cheeks blush in shame as my panties become wet.
The sticky warmth covering your fingers, you bring your hand back up and taste me. My eyes widen in fear as it dawned on me what you planned to do. Your face filled with intent, desire, and insatiable passion. Your bright eyes staring directly into mine.
"Mmmm," you chuckle, a wicked grin across your face.
"Feeding time."
Piece of Shit (Nov 30, 2015)
Shut up. You're only a lazy bastard. You didn't do anything to deserve attention. You're only in the way, you're taking too much space. Yeah. You're fat. Quit consuming.
You eat.
Too much.
At the wrong times too.
Hungry?
Too fucking bad.
You didn't do anything to earn a fucking bite. Quit making other people take care of you. Get a job. You don't do shit at all. You're a child.
Oh?
Gonna cry now?
Tch.
Such a baby.
WAH WAH
Makes you mad, huh?
Too fucking bad.
You're too noisy. Your laughs are too loud. You're not cute. You're obnoxious. Nobody likes you. You're just in the way. They only tolerate you because they're kind. Quit bothering them, they're too kind to tell you to go away. Quit wasting their time, they have more important things to do instead of wasting pity on you.
You don't deserve pity. You did this shit to yourself, and you're doing fuck all to get out. It's your own fault for racking up debts, 'cause you're an idiot. Keep on digging that hole, that's right. You're gonna end up in it one day. Oh wait, you're already in it.
Stuck.
And alone.
Get yourself out.
Oh?
You can't?
Too fucking bad.
Oh, and that dream of yours? Yeah, it's never gonna happen. Wanna know why? You not doing shit to deserve it. Also, nobody wants you, that's why. You don't have anything to contribute or give.
Oh?
You have yourself to give?
Ew.
Who wants you?
Used goods.
Broken.
Damaged.
See?
Nothing to give.
You're a disgusting excuse and a waste of space.
Now quit asking, quit taking, quit claiming. Quit it. Stop. No. Quit asking for help. Stop interrupting. Your words and thoughts are unoriginal, you're just a fucking parrot, spewing recycled bullshit. Stop it, quit feeling, quit thinking, quit breathing.
In fact, stop breathing.
Now.
Suffocate and die.
Like the miserable piece of shit cunt you are.
Preferably alone.
Somewhere far away so nobody has to deal with you.
You're too heavy to move.
So yeah.
Die.
You fucking waste of space.
You eat.
Too much.
At the wrong times too.
Hungry?
Too fucking bad.
You didn't do anything to earn a fucking bite. Quit making other people take care of you. Get a job. You don't do shit at all. You're a child.
Oh?
Gonna cry now?
Tch.
Such a baby.
WAH WAH
Makes you mad, huh?
Too fucking bad.
You're too noisy. Your laughs are too loud. You're not cute. You're obnoxious. Nobody likes you. You're just in the way. They only tolerate you because they're kind. Quit bothering them, they're too kind to tell you to go away. Quit wasting their time, they have more important things to do instead of wasting pity on you.
You don't deserve pity. You did this shit to yourself, and you're doing fuck all to get out. It's your own fault for racking up debts, 'cause you're an idiot. Keep on digging that hole, that's right. You're gonna end up in it one day. Oh wait, you're already in it.
Stuck.
And alone.
Get yourself out.
Oh?
You can't?
Too fucking bad.
Oh, and that dream of yours? Yeah, it's never gonna happen. Wanna know why? You not doing shit to deserve it. Also, nobody wants you, that's why. You don't have anything to contribute or give.
Oh?
You have yourself to give?
Ew.
Who wants you?
Used goods.
Broken.
Damaged.
See?
Nothing to give.
You're a disgusting excuse and a waste of space.
Now quit asking, quit taking, quit claiming. Quit it. Stop. No. Quit asking for help. Stop interrupting. Your words and thoughts are unoriginal, you're just a fucking parrot, spewing recycled bullshit. Stop it, quit feeling, quit thinking, quit breathing.
In fact, stop breathing.
Now.
Suffocate and die.
Like the miserable piece of shit cunt you are.
Preferably alone.
Somewhere far away so nobody has to deal with you.
You're too heavy to move.
So yeah.
Die.
You fucking waste of space.
Anticipation (Nov 5, 2015)
It starts as I stand before you feeling so much anticipation. Butterflies of excitement making a tornado as I calm myself taking even breaths. Clasping and unclasping my hands, wringing my fingers, I see you slyly raise an eyebrow sensing my nervousness. You step towards me toying with a blindfold in one hand as you come around and behind me. My hair quickly ensnared as you pull back hard, forcing my chin up, exposing my neck. I swallow and squeeze my eyes shut. I can feel you drag the blindfold down and chills immediately arise. You bring your teeth to my exposed neck and clamp down, a gentle squeeze expressing your desire. I immediately feel warmth pooling in my panties. With a smirk, you release me and slip the blindfold over my eyes.
Your hands don't stop there though, they run down my neck and rests at my shoulders. You start kneading with your thumbs and you can feel me trying so hard to relax.
"It's okay," you whisper into my ear as you can feel my anxiety well up, "let me help you." You start squeezing down my arms as you bring me into an embrace. A gentle sway and your hand runs down over my stomach as you reach towards the hem of my shirt and your warm hands slip under. You start to pull them up, bringing my shirt with you, you cup my breasts and murmur something I didn't quite catch as you give them a firm squeeze. My shirt eventually comes off and I suddenly wrap my arms in new-found shyness. Your chin rests in the nook of my shoulder and your arms snake around mine. Your bare skin against my back, sharing your warmth with me. A moment shared in matched breathing and your hands begin to come down my waist, gently brushing against my skin.
"You're so soft," you tell me as I squirm and giggle, "and ticklish," I hear the evil grin in your voice.
"Uh-oh," I teasingly replied. It was no secret that I was ticklish, nor that I liked to be tickled.
Undeterred, you bring your hands down my sides, towards my front again and begin unbuttoning my pants. You pull them down and wrap me in your arms again as you push me forward from behind. Tentatively, I take a few steps.
"I'm gonna fall," I giggled.
"Do you trust me?" I hear. I quickly nodded as I stumbled a little and feel your arms firmly hold me up.
I'm led over to what feels like a massage table and you help me sit. Finally facing each other, you bring yourself between my knees. My hands resting by my sides and I instinctively bite my lower lip awaiting what was next. I suddenly feel your strong hands rub up my stomach to my sternum, over my shoulders and down my arms as you catch my hands in yours. Using your body, you push me back, lying on top of me momentarily as you release my hands, stand back up and run your's down my front once again, not stopping but continuing down my legs.
I quietly sighed a moan as you remarked again how my skin felt in your hands. I smile inwardly, as I begin to ascend into bliss, feeling the nervousness and shyness melt away with every movement, up, down, up, down. My breathing becomes deeper, more relaxed. Tension being kneaded away, insecurities disappearing, arousal rising. Your fingers begin to come around my breasts, intentionally toying with my nipples, watching my face betray every secret. Your hands rub down my sides, down, over, and up my thighs, up my stomach, running over my breasts as you go down again.
My breathing matches your rhythm and your hands moves towards my inner thighs slowly with every cycle. You feel me unconsciously shift my weight to open my legs. Your smirk growing as you hear me sigh another moan.
"Not quite yet," you think to yourself as you build the anticipation, teasing me.
:3
Your hands don't stop there though, they run down my neck and rests at my shoulders. You start kneading with your thumbs and you can feel me trying so hard to relax.
"It's okay," you whisper into my ear as you can feel my anxiety well up, "let me help you." You start squeezing down my arms as you bring me into an embrace. A gentle sway and your hand runs down over my stomach as you reach towards the hem of my shirt and your warm hands slip under. You start to pull them up, bringing my shirt with you, you cup my breasts and murmur something I didn't quite catch as you give them a firm squeeze. My shirt eventually comes off and I suddenly wrap my arms in new-found shyness. Your chin rests in the nook of my shoulder and your arms snake around mine. Your bare skin against my back, sharing your warmth with me. A moment shared in matched breathing and your hands begin to come down my waist, gently brushing against my skin.
"You're so soft," you tell me as I squirm and giggle, "and ticklish," I hear the evil grin in your voice.
"Uh-oh," I teasingly replied. It was no secret that I was ticklish, nor that I liked to be tickled.
Undeterred, you bring your hands down my sides, towards my front again and begin unbuttoning my pants. You pull them down and wrap me in your arms again as you push me forward from behind. Tentatively, I take a few steps.
"I'm gonna fall," I giggled.
"Do you trust me?" I hear. I quickly nodded as I stumbled a little and feel your arms firmly hold me up.
I'm led over to what feels like a massage table and you help me sit. Finally facing each other, you bring yourself between my knees. My hands resting by my sides and I instinctively bite my lower lip awaiting what was next. I suddenly feel your strong hands rub up my stomach to my sternum, over my shoulders and down my arms as you catch my hands in yours. Using your body, you push me back, lying on top of me momentarily as you release my hands, stand back up and run your's down my front once again, not stopping but continuing down my legs.
I quietly sighed a moan as you remarked again how my skin felt in your hands. I smile inwardly, as I begin to ascend into bliss, feeling the nervousness and shyness melt away with every movement, up, down, up, down. My breathing becomes deeper, more relaxed. Tension being kneaded away, insecurities disappearing, arousal rising. Your fingers begin to come around my breasts, intentionally toying with my nipples, watching my face betray every secret. Your hands rub down my sides, down, over, and up my thighs, up my stomach, running over my breasts as you go down again.
My breathing matches your rhythm and your hands moves towards my inner thighs slowly with every cycle. You feel me unconsciously shift my weight to open my legs. Your smirk growing as you hear me sigh another moan.
"Not quite yet," you think to yourself as you build the anticipation, teasing me.
:3
Trust, vulnerability, and reception. (Fears.) (Feb.2 2015)
In my thoughts, I romanticize EVERYTHING, (well, almost everything) but when reality hits... I am paralyzed by fear.
I become paralyzed. My entire being stutters to a standstill and I am at a loss, I do not know what to do. I have never truly given my heart away, much less have someone present their's to me. Lacking the social skills and relationship "know-how's", my fear keeps me from stepping forward and taking your hand into mine. I am on a journey I deliberately started on my own. Mainly for selfish reasons, but also because of my learned beliefs. I refuse to become responsible for another person. Already I know I screwed up a few things and will have to take account for, and this is what scares me. The implications and affects of my action and words has much power in the lives of those around me, friends, acquaintances, or strangers, very much the butterfly effect. I fear so much being held accountable for future damage of another person.
Now, I might seem self-contradictory, but believe me, much of my action and words wavered on the precipice of connection, drowned in trepidation and finally tipped over one side or the other by a mere breath of desire or... Fear. I might pass off much of my hesitation as being shy, and while at times, it is very much true, the majority of the time it is my fear that holds me back.
I feel I fucked up. Majorly.
In my immaturity and newness, I took actions that I thought were appropriate. In my excitement, I opened up and relished in a very brief moment of openeness of giving and receiving. And it is with a VERY heavy heart that I truly apologize to you for doing so extremely prematurely. I had not even the faintest thought of thoroughly communicating beforehand of expectations (especially regarding aftercare) that should have been clarified and only took advantage of you. Even continual communication afterwards was confusing because the expectations were unclear in the misty fog of "a damn good night."
And now all these thoughts of "maybe I should/shouldn't have's" and "what if's" come as a flood. I won't cheapen the moment by regretting what had happened, becuse that moment... That evening was sweet and special.
But I am sorry.
I am sorry that in my moment of immaturity and excitability, I failed to pause and reflect a single second on what an immense butterfly effect I instigated. I can't be your person. I can't hold your hand.
I honestly don't know how my letter of introspection became a letter of apology, but maybe following my intuition is the correct thing to do here. At this point, much of the worst thoughts and fears hit me as a colony of blind bats attacking the point of offense. So, instead of succumbing to them in a fit of panic and anxiety, I choose to wish you well.
I wish you peace.
I wish you happiness.
I wish you healing.
I wish we could be friends.
I wish we could start again.
I'm sorry.
I become paralyzed. My entire being stutters to a standstill and I am at a loss, I do not know what to do. I have never truly given my heart away, much less have someone present their's to me. Lacking the social skills and relationship "know-how's", my fear keeps me from stepping forward and taking your hand into mine. I am on a journey I deliberately started on my own. Mainly for selfish reasons, but also because of my learned beliefs. I refuse to become responsible for another person. Already I know I screwed up a few things and will have to take account for, and this is what scares me. The implications and affects of my action and words has much power in the lives of those around me, friends, acquaintances, or strangers, very much the butterfly effect. I fear so much being held accountable for future damage of another person.
Now, I might seem self-contradictory, but believe me, much of my action and words wavered on the precipice of connection, drowned in trepidation and finally tipped over one side or the other by a mere breath of desire or... Fear. I might pass off much of my hesitation as being shy, and while at times, it is very much true, the majority of the time it is my fear that holds me back.
I feel I fucked up. Majorly.
In my immaturity and newness, I took actions that I thought were appropriate. In my excitement, I opened up and relished in a very brief moment of openeness of giving and receiving. And it is with a VERY heavy heart that I truly apologize to you for doing so extremely prematurely. I had not even the faintest thought of thoroughly communicating beforehand of expectations (especially regarding aftercare) that should have been clarified and only took advantage of you. Even continual communication afterwards was confusing because the expectations were unclear in the misty fog of "a damn good night."
And now all these thoughts of "maybe I should/shouldn't have's" and "what if's" come as a flood. I won't cheapen the moment by regretting what had happened, becuse that moment... That evening was sweet and special.
But I am sorry.
I am sorry that in my moment of immaturity and excitability, I failed to pause and reflect a single second on what an immense butterfly effect I instigated. I can't be your person. I can't hold your hand.
I honestly don't know how my letter of introspection became a letter of apology, but maybe following my intuition is the correct thing to do here. At this point, much of the worst thoughts and fears hit me as a colony of blind bats attacking the point of offense. So, instead of succumbing to them in a fit of panic and anxiety, I choose to wish you well.
I wish you peace.
I wish you happiness.
I wish you healing.
I wish we could be friends.
I wish we could start again.
I'm sorry.
Caged (Dec 31, 2014)
I want to hurt you, but I don't know if it's okay. You don't belong to me. This internal struggle grows, gnawing at the edge of every thought running around my chaotic mind. I want to own you and make you mine, no matter how fleeting that moment may be. For that single moment, you would be completely MINE.
To collar you, to bind you, to bite you, mark you.
An imprint.
But I cannot.
I cannot take from someone so elusive, someone so agile and quick to back away. I cannot trust that you'll stay, that you will return. I want to trust you, but I won't. I have learned my lessons from many years of naiveté. I have refused myself the privilege of trust. I'm gleeful and giddy at the thought of capturing you... The question, however, truly lies in your desires.
Is it MY touch you want? Is it MY words you search? Is it ME you crave?
I can see faint glimpses flash in your eyes as we tease. But I need more than that.
I'm shy to ask for more, and afraid that I'll destroy. I'm very good at stabotaging my own plans. An emotional masochist, if you will. I'm afraid of myself. Afraid that if permission were granted, I wouldn't stop. The dam would break and every disgusting desire would be unleashed. Flooding you, drowning you, overwhelming you.
Pushing you away.
So I hold myself back. Trapped in the midst of a war-ravaged battleground of everything within. I have become a caged beast bashing myself against the barricades. Bloodied and angry. Raw. Hungry. Alone.
...and scared.
Please don't let me out. Please leave me in my pain, allow me to be my own masochist. Because once I'm your sadist, I won't stop. I won't be satisfied until I have it all.
Until you are completely mine.
To collar you, to bind you, to bite you, mark you.
An imprint.
But I cannot.
I cannot take from someone so elusive, someone so agile and quick to back away. I cannot trust that you'll stay, that you will return. I want to trust you, but I won't. I have learned my lessons from many years of naiveté. I have refused myself the privilege of trust. I'm gleeful and giddy at the thought of capturing you... The question, however, truly lies in your desires.
Is it MY touch you want? Is it MY words you search? Is it ME you crave?
I can see faint glimpses flash in your eyes as we tease. But I need more than that.
I'm shy to ask for more, and afraid that I'll destroy. I'm very good at stabotaging my own plans. An emotional masochist, if you will. I'm afraid of myself. Afraid that if permission were granted, I wouldn't stop. The dam would break and every disgusting desire would be unleashed. Flooding you, drowning you, overwhelming you.
Pushing you away.
So I hold myself back. Trapped in the midst of a war-ravaged battleground of everything within. I have become a caged beast bashing myself against the barricades. Bloodied and angry. Raw. Hungry. Alone.
...and scared.
Please don't let me out. Please leave me in my pain, allow me to be my own masochist. Because once I'm your sadist, I won't stop. I won't be satisfied until I have it all.
Until you are completely mine.
Stirrings of the Primal Within (Dec. 29, 2014)
I never believed I was desirable. I'm just in the way. Tolerated. Pushed aside. Existing is a struggle. Having desires, no matter how small, only showed I was a burden to another. Being in the way is frowned upon. Selfishness is disgusting. A rancid, festering boil filled with pus. I'm an unwanted infection.
Abused and neglected, pushed out and exposed to the elements. So long have I been alone, forgotten, abandoned. My being despised and rotting. I am only an odious nuisance, depreciated and disdained, then evaded.
Every sense of humanity stripped bare and shredded to pieces. No evidence of human emotion left to trace. Anger became futile. Crying became pointless. Joy became a fleeting mist of vapor. No sustenance was found in feeling. Meandering through life's rotting sewage day after day, my spirit began to will itself into nothingness. Night after night, I wished to be met with the kiss of death. I simply desired to cease being. Life was fruitless and boring.
Apathy. I relished in it. Oh, glorious apathy.
Very casually, just like a bird flying across the sky. Nothing unusual or dramatic, I was propositioned. The question intended to provoke, filled with derisive judgement and disgusted contempt.
Instead of feeling insulted, my curiosity was piqued. Something deep within, long-forgotten and denied was being called upon. It wasn't a dramatic awakening of Frankenstein's creation. It was subtle. Unnoticeable, faint, and hidden.
Demanding.
I became intrigued. A taste given and a hunger awakened. Obsessively prodding a mysterious bruise and musing its origin. I began hunting the rabbit hole. There were no trails to follow nor any hand to guide me. Upon discovery, every denied desires were enticed; being culled, a sense of kinship budded. I stumbled around deeper and deeper into the darkness, struggling to find stable footing in new and unfamiliar terrain.
Suddenly startled by an ominous presence, everything within me froze. I happened upon an old friend. With putrid and fetid flesh oozing all twisted and snaggled. This shrewd looking beast was nestled in a desolate den of hopelessness. His eyes, bleak and piercing, met mine. A shock shook my heart as the cold glare sized me up and down. And within, I became unhinged, toppling the foundation of everything superficial and plastic I had worked so hard to build. I watched as they all crumbled from the sudden jarring. My meaningless existence is no longer.
He purred menacingly as I giggled with glee. Nothing would ever be the same again. Breathing in the heady and noxious fumes, a spark ignited and a catharsis began. I had found myself. This monstrous Jabberwock was me. Greedy and starving, not yet awakened, not yet reborn.
... But the primal within is stirring.
Abused and neglected, pushed out and exposed to the elements. So long have I been alone, forgotten, abandoned. My being despised and rotting. I am only an odious nuisance, depreciated and disdained, then evaded.
Every sense of humanity stripped bare and shredded to pieces. No evidence of human emotion left to trace. Anger became futile. Crying became pointless. Joy became a fleeting mist of vapor. No sustenance was found in feeling. Meandering through life's rotting sewage day after day, my spirit began to will itself into nothingness. Night after night, I wished to be met with the kiss of death. I simply desired to cease being. Life was fruitless and boring.
Apathy. I relished in it. Oh, glorious apathy.
Very casually, just like a bird flying across the sky. Nothing unusual or dramatic, I was propositioned. The question intended to provoke, filled with derisive judgement and disgusted contempt.
Instead of feeling insulted, my curiosity was piqued. Something deep within, long-forgotten and denied was being called upon. It wasn't a dramatic awakening of Frankenstein's creation. It was subtle. Unnoticeable, faint, and hidden.
Demanding.
I became intrigued. A taste given and a hunger awakened. Obsessively prodding a mysterious bruise and musing its origin. I began hunting the rabbit hole. There were no trails to follow nor any hand to guide me. Upon discovery, every denied desires were enticed; being culled, a sense of kinship budded. I stumbled around deeper and deeper into the darkness, struggling to find stable footing in new and unfamiliar terrain.
Suddenly startled by an ominous presence, everything within me froze. I happened upon an old friend. With putrid and fetid flesh oozing all twisted and snaggled. This shrewd looking beast was nestled in a desolate den of hopelessness. His eyes, bleak and piercing, met mine. A shock shook my heart as the cold glare sized me up and down. And within, I became unhinged, toppling the foundation of everything superficial and plastic I had worked so hard to build. I watched as they all crumbled from the sudden jarring. My meaningless existence is no longer.
He purred menacingly as I giggled with glee. Nothing would ever be the same again. Breathing in the heady and noxious fumes, a spark ignited and a catharsis began. I had found myself. This monstrous Jabberwock was me. Greedy and starving, not yet awakened, not yet reborn.
... But the primal within is stirring.
Pissy (Nov. 22, 2014)
Just a rant. I'm not looking for advice or sympathy. I'm writing this down so I don't keep it all in my head and end up biting everyone's heads off.
Screw you and your fucking double-standard bullshit, you hypocritical immature bastard. Take responsibility for your actions and words, don't shut down and run away when you fuck up, that gets you nowhere fast. I told you that your actions were disrespectful, yet you relentlessly flaunted your dick-headed antics and grabbed everything you felt compelled to like a horny dog humping everything in it's reach. You should learn what it means to respect women, I'm not a fucking toy to be played with. When you said I wasn't a toy but a person, you fucking contradict yourself when you tease me in ways that make me feel uncomfortable. I don't know you, so how the fuck am I supposed to get your attention to tell you to chill out? I said I didn't want to hate you, and all I wanted was an apology for feeling creeped out. But you and your cowardly self tried to turn this around and make it my fault for feeling violated. Now that's bullshit. That makes me angry. I'm usually nice and easy-going, I'm quick to apologize when I'm wrong and forgive easily when I'm wronged. But when you constantly disregard everything I say just for the fucking sake of avoiding owning up to your mistakes and taking responsibility? That pisses me off.
You're a jerk. Dick-head.
Screw you and your fucking double-standard bullshit, you hypocritical immature bastard. Take responsibility for your actions and words, don't shut down and run away when you fuck up, that gets you nowhere fast. I told you that your actions were disrespectful, yet you relentlessly flaunted your dick-headed antics and grabbed everything you felt compelled to like a horny dog humping everything in it's reach. You should learn what it means to respect women, I'm not a fucking toy to be played with. When you said I wasn't a toy but a person, you fucking contradict yourself when you tease me in ways that make me feel uncomfortable. I don't know you, so how the fuck am I supposed to get your attention to tell you to chill out? I said I didn't want to hate you, and all I wanted was an apology for feeling creeped out. But you and your cowardly self tried to turn this around and make it my fault for feeling violated. Now that's bullshit. That makes me angry. I'm usually nice and easy-going, I'm quick to apologize when I'm wrong and forgive easily when I'm wronged. But when you constantly disregard everything I say just for the fucking sake of avoiding owning up to your mistakes and taking responsibility? That pisses me off.
You're a jerk. Dick-head.
Raw Humanity (Nov. 17, 2014)
Last night I was able to break down and cry. I haven't been able to in almost two years.
In a moment of desperation, I poured out my secrets to you. I have an innate need to nurture and to give, but no one to nurture or give. It's hard for me to have that someone, especially since I kind of do now. I'm easily attached and I'm holding back. Your kind words light up dark secret corners of my heart that have been long hidden and neglected. When you say I'm special and that I bring you joy, it hurts. It hurts good. These aren't words I'm used to and I'm starved for them. Your frank candor and bratty humor makes it easy for me to be friends with you. So when I hear about the crap other people are putting you through, it makes me feel a bit of primal anger. I want to become protective of you. But I won't let myself. I'm growing every moment I'm with you, you encourage me to speak my mind, and you help me order my thoughts and desires into words and actions. This isn't easy for me, especially saying them out loud. I've long been ashamed of my dark secrets and dirty desires. They're not allowed. I'm not allowed. My need for you or others, is not allowed. I can't. I can't need you, I can't need someone, I must be sufficient in taking care of myself. I must be able to be alone. Because I am alone.
So, it hurts. It hurts good. It hurts so good when you tell me that you need me too. But that you also need to be alone.
In a moment of desperation, I poured out my secrets to you. I have an innate need to nurture and to give, but no one to nurture or give. It's hard for me to have that someone, especially since I kind of do now. I'm easily attached and I'm holding back. Your kind words light up dark secret corners of my heart that have been long hidden and neglected. When you say I'm special and that I bring you joy, it hurts. It hurts good. These aren't words I'm used to and I'm starved for them. Your frank candor and bratty humor makes it easy for me to be friends with you. So when I hear about the crap other people are putting you through, it makes me feel a bit of primal anger. I want to become protective of you. But I won't let myself. I'm growing every moment I'm with you, you encourage me to speak my mind, and you help me order my thoughts and desires into words and actions. This isn't easy for me, especially saying them out loud. I've long been ashamed of my dark secrets and dirty desires. They're not allowed. I'm not allowed. My need for you or others, is not allowed. I can't. I can't need you, I can't need someone, I must be sufficient in taking care of myself. I must be able to be alone. Because I am alone.
So, it hurts. It hurts good. It hurts so good when you tell me that you need me too. But that you also need to be alone.
Fast Forward To Now.
Let me catch you up to speed...
I want to say everything I ever shared here was all bullshit, but that's not true. It was who I was at the time, and in retrospect, I was pretty shallow and narrow-minded.
God is still a constant, if you were wondering.. but I'm a different person now, that's for sure.
I skipped work today. Stumbled across my old blog, and realized a lot of the hurts are still hurting, but I'm not as naive.
My last entry I shared I was starting university on the opposite coast of where I grew up. It was a year filled with pottery and sister drama. (You see, my sister was an upperclassman at the same campus and she had a boat load of relationship issues with her on and off again fiance at the time.) It was a co-ed wet campus too. I had to do a lot of thinking about my own core values and figure out what was important to my personal boundaries. I didn't really party, but I made friends with all kinds of people I wouldn't have if I wasn't in such a place. After being there for a year, I missed the support system of my hometown so I decided to transfer back to a local community college and continued in fine arts. Social working is definitely not a thing in my life anymore, haha.
So for a while afterward, my life was pretty stable, I was living at my parent's while attending classes at the local community college and got involved with a church's college-aged program. About a year and a half into college, I decided I was tired of being broke and wanted to work. My "do everything now" impulse put me in a position where I was working full time over night stocking shelves, part time twice a week babysitting, and full time college classes. That petered out quickly afterward, unexpectedly too. I was planning to put school on pause and was laid off.
While making church a priority, (in hindsight, it was to avoid loneliness, and I filled the hole with a lifestyle) I started searching for another job. I was offered a caregiver position and training and I did that until I failed my certification class. I'm still kinda bitter about the test proctor's actions, but I don't really care, I was burned out on being a caregiver after about 9 months. At this point I had moved out of my parents and into a fully furnished studio basement apartment and aged out of the college-program at church. My attendance and involvement stuttered to a halt. I realized the lifestyle I was living was just a facade and that I didn't really have any substantial relationships or friendships.
Searching online for something to keep me preoccupied, I stumbled upon a bdsm (bondage discipline sado-masochism) community forum.
I started working at Hastings. I had travel plans to Canada and was fired the day before I left.
Canada was eye opening. It challenged me. I put myself in stupid situations and realized quickly that I know how to survive. I experimented with some hallucinogens and learned quickly what I was and was not comfortable with. I made some temporary friends, and met an online friend in person who didn't stay friends for much longer afterward.
I quickly moved out of the studio apartment and didn't want to return to my parents, became homeless and crashed with a friend I had made from the bdsm forum for a couple months. I got more involved in the local underground fetish / kink community and made some friends, made some stupid choices, learned more about myself, and learned a few new hobbies.
Couch surfing for a few months took a toll on me and I wanted to work so I could have cash. Can't really do much without money these days. My parents were welcoming and allowed me to stay in the spare bedroom turned storage space. After three months, I finally got hired at a corporate company with a very nice pay. I'm still working for the same company and am coming up on my 3 year anniversary. (I'm pretty proud of this one.)
After a couple years of stumbling through friendships and friends with benefits and learning how to communicate with people, I started dating someone. We have a peculiar relationship. I think I'm more attached than I realize. I don't think I love him, I don't think he loves me, but we don't really want to let go of the other. It's kind of like building a bad habit and not really wanting to break that habit. I still feel like a trapped princess and he's just the bird that comes to visit every now and then, not the champion come to rescue. His company is nice, but I still struggle with the lack of romance and intimacy. That could just be part of my projecting assumptions, and skewed perspective though. He's a good friend and he's comfortable and I'm lonely.
I started going to a weekly group program provided by church about a year ago when I realized I was spiritually isolated. There's not a lot of people within the sex community that believe in Jesus. I'm not the type to proselytize, I'm a hypocrite. So I choose to not judge other people's choices in life because I am not making "godly" choices. I would say my life now hardly reflects a "christian-lifestyle" that I had imagined I would have. Slowly making strides towards reconnecting with others on a spiritual level helped with anxieties that had cropped up from spiritual isolation and gave me comfort remembering we have a loving God who continues to pursue us all throughout our lives.
So today... I'm sitting in my robe on my little sofa, in my one bedroom apartment skipping work because "mental-health-day" and am about to marathon a series on netflix. Hm.. I might go out to the bar tonight.. that is if I have motivation enough to shower. Anyway... I'll be adding quite a few writings I did over the past couple years that are posted on my page (from bdsm website). Most of them are profanity ridden, some very sexually graphic, but all are from me.
I'm glad to have found my blogspot so I can start spewing randomness again.
Cheers.
I want to say everything I ever shared here was all bullshit, but that's not true. It was who I was at the time, and in retrospect, I was pretty shallow and narrow-minded.
God is still a constant, if you were wondering.. but I'm a different person now, that's for sure.
I skipped work today. Stumbled across my old blog, and realized a lot of the hurts are still hurting, but I'm not as naive.
My last entry I shared I was starting university on the opposite coast of where I grew up. It was a year filled with pottery and sister drama. (You see, my sister was an upperclassman at the same campus and she had a boat load of relationship issues with her on and off again fiance at the time.) It was a co-ed wet campus too. I had to do a lot of thinking about my own core values and figure out what was important to my personal boundaries. I didn't really party, but I made friends with all kinds of people I wouldn't have if I wasn't in such a place. After being there for a year, I missed the support system of my hometown so I decided to transfer back to a local community college and continued in fine arts. Social working is definitely not a thing in my life anymore, haha.
So for a while afterward, my life was pretty stable, I was living at my parent's while attending classes at the local community college and got involved with a church's college-aged program. About a year and a half into college, I decided I was tired of being broke and wanted to work. My "do everything now" impulse put me in a position where I was working full time over night stocking shelves, part time twice a week babysitting, and full time college classes. That petered out quickly afterward, unexpectedly too. I was planning to put school on pause and was laid off.
While making church a priority, (in hindsight, it was to avoid loneliness, and I filled the hole with a lifestyle) I started searching for another job. I was offered a caregiver position and training and I did that until I failed my certification class. I'm still kinda bitter about the test proctor's actions, but I don't really care, I was burned out on being a caregiver after about 9 months. At this point I had moved out of my parents and into a fully furnished studio basement apartment and aged out of the college-program at church. My attendance and involvement stuttered to a halt. I realized the lifestyle I was living was just a facade and that I didn't really have any substantial relationships or friendships.
Searching online for something to keep me preoccupied, I stumbled upon a bdsm (bondage discipline sado-masochism) community forum.
I started working at Hastings. I had travel plans to Canada and was fired the day before I left.
Canada was eye opening. It challenged me. I put myself in stupid situations and realized quickly that I know how to survive. I experimented with some hallucinogens and learned quickly what I was and was not comfortable with. I made some temporary friends, and met an online friend in person who didn't stay friends for much longer afterward.
I quickly moved out of the studio apartment and didn't want to return to my parents, became homeless and crashed with a friend I had made from the bdsm forum for a couple months. I got more involved in the local underground fetish / kink community and made some friends, made some stupid choices, learned more about myself, and learned a few new hobbies.
Couch surfing for a few months took a toll on me and I wanted to work so I could have cash. Can't really do much without money these days. My parents were welcoming and allowed me to stay in the spare bedroom turned storage space. After three months, I finally got hired at a corporate company with a very nice pay. I'm still working for the same company and am coming up on my 3 year anniversary. (I'm pretty proud of this one.)
After a couple years of stumbling through friendships and friends with benefits and learning how to communicate with people, I started dating someone. We have a peculiar relationship. I think I'm more attached than I realize. I don't think I love him, I don't think he loves me, but we don't really want to let go of the other. It's kind of like building a bad habit and not really wanting to break that habit. I still feel like a trapped princess and he's just the bird that comes to visit every now and then, not the champion come to rescue. His company is nice, but I still struggle with the lack of romance and intimacy. That could just be part of my projecting assumptions, and skewed perspective though. He's a good friend and he's comfortable and I'm lonely.
I started going to a weekly group program provided by church about a year ago when I realized I was spiritually isolated. There's not a lot of people within the sex community that believe in Jesus. I'm not the type to proselytize, I'm a hypocrite. So I choose to not judge other people's choices in life because I am not making "godly" choices. I would say my life now hardly reflects a "christian-lifestyle" that I had imagined I would have. Slowly making strides towards reconnecting with others on a spiritual level helped with anxieties that had cropped up from spiritual isolation and gave me comfort remembering we have a loving God who continues to pursue us all throughout our lives.
So today... I'm sitting in my robe on my little sofa, in my one bedroom apartment skipping work because "mental-health-day" and am about to marathon a series on netflix. Hm.. I might go out to the bar tonight.. that is if I have motivation enough to shower. Anyway... I'll be adding quite a few writings I did over the past couple years that are posted on my page (from bdsm website). Most of them are profanity ridden, some very sexually graphic, but all are from me.
I'm glad to have found my blogspot so I can start spewing randomness again.
Cheers.
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