Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Collar and Cuffs

lookie lookie what I got today in the maaaillllll


Collar and wrist and ankle cuffs, the o-rings detach and everything is locked by pins in one side of hinges, held in place by a magnent. So it's not impossible to get out of them without the "key" but it proves to be definitely very difficult without some pointy object. The collar has an "M" on the back, which I assume is for "Master"...

Somehow I find that ironically frustrating.

They are beautiful though...

Now to choose someone to play with me in them...

Saturday, October 1, 2011

It's three in the morning and I'm half in the bag, alone in my disaster of a room, alone with my disaster of a heart. The chaos moves all through me and I'm wondering how to navigate while spinning. All I want is to be something good, something great, something special. Just one who I deem worthy to think the world of me and I them, seems to always be different times and different people. Maybe some of us are really just not worth the happiness we all look for, maybe I'm looking in the wrong places or maybe I'm shooting too high. It's hard for me to believe, though, I feel I deserve someone great, I think I will be something great. Maybe that is the curse though, thinking yourself too special. I find myself more disappointed than not, anyway. Bored and disappointed. I wish someone awesome would find interest in me.

Too much or not enough, this balance is going to drive me insane.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011


As the end of September approaches, so does the beginning of one of the best months- and my favorite holiday- Halloween. Unfortunately, I realize that it's always daunted by the oncoming winter, and with it my least favorite day of the year- Christmas. Between never having money, a full family (or anywhere to go the last few years, period), or a lover... I really hate Christmas. I want to love it, but seeing as I can't remember a good one, it's hard to. The cold weather reminds me of it. And I'm just left here choking on my own self pity, holding back tears barely letting myself hope that this year might be different.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

I keep telling myself I'm doing this all for me, but I fear it's all for you...

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Silent Love

I am learning to be quiet in my love. So desperately do I feel my emotions, so eagerly do I want to act on them... But there is something in the silence and denial of my heart. I am dreaming of what could be, or what might be... I have terribly romantic desires, along with my dark ones. For now, I suppose my fantasies will have to suffice. Such sweet torture.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Yelling at Myself...

You lazy little shit, a nap? Really? That's about all you've been doing for a how many weeks now, just sleeping and watching netflix and ignoring your life and responsabilities. You bitch about having no money yet you do nothing with your day. I get it, you had a shitty experience, a few, in fact, and that sucks. You're life isn't peaches and cream right now, but there is only ONE way to make that change and that's by doing the things you keep putting off. So you don't want a "real job" well congratulations, you've waited to long to get one, so put your fucking nose to the grindstone and do the rest of the shit you said you'd do. Good, you haven't smoked in a week, we'll see how well that holds up when you're asked to smoke in a shoot or your friends are all smoking and you're drunk, just one puff right? What's the harm? Only your fucking health, Miss I Was Born A Month And A Half Premature. You know your lungs are one of the last things to develop, what, do you have a fucking death wish? Do you feel that pathetic about your life that you want to throw it away on lung cancer? Do you like not being able to breathe going up stairs, like a fucking lazy fat kid, like most of the lazy stupid people dirtying up this god forsaken earth? You keep saying, "I'll run tomorrow morning, I swear" yet you keep not doing it. You know what that says? That says that you can't even make a fucking promise to yourself, you can't keep your own word to YOURSELF, how can ANYONE else take your word, then? How can anyone else trust you? You sit at your little computer pining after this one or that one, why wont the Sadist talk to me, wondering what M is doing or god, even that Dominatrix. As if you deserve any of their attention at all!? They have ALL told you you are a bratty moody sub, and who the fuck wants a rebel constantly let alone a bitch who can't even hold herself to her OWN promises- promises that, as a matter of fact, you know are desirable for any respectable person. But don't do it for them, and you know that's not the point, do it for yourself, because you want to be that person. For Christ's sake, make yourself worth ANYONE"s time, by making yourself the best you can, like you've said you were going to do for YEARS. It starts now, dammit, not tomorrow morning, not after you fuck around on Tumblr for the next three hours, not stalking out Mr Sadist over there who really could give a rat's fuck about you anyway, but NOW.

And no sugar for you, since you didn't run today, until friday. Lazy fuck, you even put your running clothes on and still didn't go, unbelievable.

AND you're banned from all chat clients for the rest of the night, use your time wisely and get all that shit done you've been saying you'll get done. Bedtime THREE, no more of this five am shit. You're getting up at TEN.

I swear to god, if I could beat myself, I would, I'm so mad at myself. You're lucky you only have yourself to answer to.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011


I dont' know why I insist on torturing myself over.... well, everything humanly possible, I think. Particularly, however, to do with relationships. As soon as I start to feel that love creeping in, it's instant time to start obsessing, questioning my worth, said lovers intentions, and everything in between. I really need to learn to take a step back, not be so needy and obsessive... Unfortunately, in my mind, it's this great torturous romantic ordeal that always backfires and then I get to say, "I knew it was too good to be true" or some bullshit, where in reality I fucked it up... Maybe I'm looking for someone who thinkings I'm awesome enough to be that patient with, or maybe I just really don't believe I deserve that sort of love and happiness, or maybe I'm terrified of falling that hard and then loosing that person. Abandonment issues. Self worth issues. It's confusing considering sometimes I convince myself that I AM awesome. Mostly I look in the mirror and I feel incomplete. Just very very incomplete. I can't wait to go home and ignore everyone. I feel like there's all these fingers looking to grope in on my heart and body and sometimes my mind, but I'd rather just put it all on lock down and tell the world to go fuck themselves....

This was supposed to be a place for secrets, but I suppose that'll have to wait for my typewriter and paper journal.

This feeling of love and the feeling of addiction sure feels an awful lot alike...

Sunday, August 28, 2011

A thought on God

The rain from Hurricane Irene has finally hit where I am staying, and while I know it's a serious storm, I can't help but feel comforted in it's gentle noise. I'm reminded of my childhood, sharing an attic room with my sister, and the rain was always so loud, the thunder never scary. One time, when I was about 10 years old, we were driving somewhere, it was dark, and my mother pulled over because the rain storm was so bad. We had a hatch-back and she put the far back seats downs so we could lay and look out the window at the storm, explaining to us that we were safe because of the rubber tires, and that it was beautiful, and not to be afraid. I seem to feel I understood God in that moment... The greatness, the power, the fear, beauty... I think I associate all great things with these same collection of adjectives. God is in the rain. Water, as God, and cleansing and calming. I am a Cancer, a moon child, a water sign. I also, just to be clear, have my own understanding of what God is, but for lack of a better word, I still use it... Some people struggle with whether they believe in God, some struggle with whether God cares about them- I don't. I worry about whether or not God is proud of me.

When I was just about to turn 10, my mother moved my siblings and I to another town, about five hours from where I was born, and before we left, our Baptist church decided to rush us being "Saved". Accepting Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. The woman of the Church who lead us through this ritual saw that I was not emotional and questioned whether I was honest in my belief. Until this very moment of her questioning, I had no doubts at all, I mean, why should I? I was never exposed to anything else, and I just took it as truth, as a part of my life. When she did doubt me though, it suddenly occurred to me that there were other options out there, other ways to believe, and perhaps even, other Gods.

Thus began my questioning of what and who God was. A couple years later, I was introduced to Wicca. I began researching occult subjects. A few years into this searching, I stumbled upon BDSM.

The Sadist said to me yesterday something along the lines of that in our most masochistic and sadistic moments, we are closest to God. I argued that we were the most Human. He agreed.

Sometimes I curse finding BDSM, other times I revel in it. Right now, I accept it as part of who I am, and I refuse to flaunt it or hide it. But I certainly know I am a true child of God, and search every day to be better for a higher purpose. I believe that we all can go as high as we like, I just have a hard time seeing any roof or boundary I don't want to bust through and see to the other side.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

I want I want I want

I'm on fire again today and I want to eat everyone's soul, I'm fantasizing about the Sadist non stop, but I'm going to fuck the Painter later and I"m going to fuck him hard. His world is about to be turned the fuck upside down, I will work him into a frenzy he's never experienced. Why can't he be sadistic? It's a rare trait, and one I fucking covet. I'm having flash fantasies about slapping the Sadist in the face and watching his face harden and change in the way I know will happen, maybe I'll get one of those knowing smiles, the thoughts of what he will do to me once he has me bound up crossing through his pretty green eyes... I see him yanking me by the hair, I hear myself groan and smile, egging him on, he kisses me sweetly to compensate the torture he's about to lay on me. Throw me to the ground. Do I get back up? I get confused as to fight back or just let go, I want to do both so I laugh because I'm a bitch brat and start to stand, only to have him use his boot to knock me over, stepping on my face, looking down at me laughing as I now struggle to get away from him and god I don't even have the patience for these fantasies right now, let's skip to the part where he hits me in the face enough to placate me so he can throw me on my stomach, renching my arms behind my back... rope, rope is what I want, messy and harsh. - God I'm distracted, that first time he zip-tied my hands behind my back he spun me around and looked at me, naked, and smiled, pinching my nipples saying something about how he was instantly turned on, and so was I. He's tall, so tall, and manly, and scruffy and hot. Always with these small moments that I flash back to throughout the day...

I want him to put me in so much pain I can't think at all. I want it to be messy and rough and wild. Choke me, fuck me in the ass, hit me, whip me, cut me... He wants blood and tears and I want to give it to him, I want to be lost in him, screams behind a gag, shivering in anticipation, blindfolded, whimpering, begging for it to stop but ignored. Bruises and welts. Collar me and chain me to the floor. Rape me. Play piercings. Whips. Whips. WHIPS. Chains. Rope. Leather.

I am torturing myself because I can't fucking have any of this!

And as a side note, I'm such an amateur I don't even know what I really want. But I know I want to experiment with, like, all of it. Alright, maybe not all of it. Bitches be crazy. I just want him to push all my boundaries and limits.

Shit, I gotta go get shit done.

My skin is aching to hurt.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Hurt me, Beat me, Love me

Where to begin, where to begin....

Last week I found myself at the hands of a Sadist.

That sentence was supposed to go on, but something about that statement just causes me pause. Perhaps because I've been waiting for it for a long time, to experience that first hand, in person. The laugh is what gets me, when he took the clothespins from my nipples and then pulled on them, me moaning a scream behind my panties in my mouth, then yes, he laughed, and that just turned me on more.... God, my thoughts of him are so sparatic, I can't even write about it properly, though I sure as hell want to try. I think of him in moments- him sitting in a chair with his foot over my hair, my hands tied behind my back with zipties, my ankles bound the same, and I'm damp from the water he threw on me and exasperated from spanking and being thrown about, my brain in a buzz and he smokes a cigarette, looking at me he smiles a bit sardonically saying, "don't you looks so pretty down there." And I felt pretty, and full and content...

Though surprisingly unfulfilled. I have this thought that perhaps I let myself think my pain threshold is shallower than it is, thus left wanting more... Through the couple days I had with him I kept looking at him, thinking I could do this every day.. I could do this every day... and he says, "it's a fantasy" and it's not, it's not a fantasy because he exists, and I exist, and other people like us exist. Sometimes I am so frustrated by my masochistic desires, and all of this BDSM shit running around in my head, that I would forget it all if I could... and then I meet someone like this Sadist and I'm reminded why it enriches my life. It is fun. It's the most fun! It's adult play in the most obvious sense of the words.

Ugh, but I can't figure out to rebel, not to rebel, to be cocky or sweet, it seems to change in me, all depending on who I'm dealing with or what I'm doing, and with him, I'm unsure. I am naturally sweet to him, yeilding... but I see in both of us this love of banter and fighting, yet I can't seem to get to that point with him. I fear I'm not interesting enough, I fear him being bored of me.

And there are better choices for me than the Sadist but I can't fucking get him out of my head. Not that I have to make a choice. It's easy math, I know, cater to this sort of thing, and bam, stuck right in my brain. He left me in a breeze, barely seemed to care and I was left on the sidewalk, his cab rolling away, and I cried, though I wasn't sure why I was crying. I wanted to scream. This emotional roller coaster is never ending with me, and it's like he opened my pandora's box, and I was left scrambling to shove it all back inside, left only with memories and two zip-ties around my right wrist, enough to keep my masochism awake and in the forefront of my mind, but with no outlet to get it out.

fuck I could talk about this shit for so long...

It's better than sex.

Hurt me. Beat me. Love me.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Day Two + PMS = .....

absolute crankiness.

Dear Diary...

I cannot bare the thought of not talking to him, yet I cannot bare the thought of breaking down to call or email him either... Don't get me wrong, it's not because of pride or any such thing, but pure desire to show him that I am willing to suffer, that I want to please him, obey him, love him, do anything to be with him... Am I insane? Have I dropped off the deep end? Sometimes I think I have. It's not even right to write this here where anyone could stumble on it, anyone could steal a piece of our world together and judge it, one that only him and I can understand...

I want so badly to have my romantic story and I think we have the most insanely romantic story I could ever have wished to experience, endure and anticipate.

How long can I really do this for? How long can I not pick up the phone and dial his number? Or even email him? It's such torture. He's not on AIM. He's blocked me to deter temptation, and surely I don't need any more....

But I want to tell him about my day, about my frustrations. Instead I will be silent, save this journal, and suffer without him, and around all of my friends so happy and fun. I smile and act normal and I don't talk about it and constantly it's in my mind and I want to do what will make him happy even if he's not here even though I know it's about making me happy and being who I want to be because I want to be or whatever nonsense but it's bullshit because I swear to god I live my life based around him and I don't even fucking care if it's wrong!

And the adult part of me says, no, no, calm down. Take a breath, everything will be fine. One day at a time, just do what you need to do. You don't need to talk to anyone else, it's good enough he knows and you know and that's it. I know. He knows.

That's it.

Am I crazy?

I'm Right Here...

So it's been, what, two years since my last update?

who cares, I'm writing this because I can't talk to you, I'm writing this because I have to talk to you and there is no other way without directly contacting you which you've told me not to do. This is my loop hole, this is my sanity, because I feel like I'm going nuts without you and it's not even been 24 hours since last we talked... I feel like you've gone on some trip, or perhaps how military wives might feel when their men get shipped off. Whatever, you are not shipped off but you may as well be.

I've been having fucked up weird dreams, and I'm sure it's my longing and stress getting the better of me. I feel cranky, pissy, sad and short tempered. Sure, this could be PMS, too, but surely it's more to do with you. It's frustrating, having my happiness so easily hung on a person... I know I should be happy with myself, and to an extent I am, I just feel so incomplete... and even these thoughts are torture, even writing this is torture.. and I want to cry and I wish there was an evil witch to cast me to sleep until you come rescue me...

The thing is, I feel like I know you know I suffer so... I think maybe you do, too... and I like to think I'm sitting here, thinking of you, and you're thinking of me... I hope you're waiting for me to post on this blog... I hope you think of it as soon as I have, but I guess I wont know.

I miss you already Sir, I love you.