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So you wanted to play?
‘You want to play, don’t you?’ he says, hovering his finger near my lips, waiting for them to open. They always do. I am open to him any time he wants. Available 24/7, even though we’re far from having a 24/7 D/s relationship. Or are we?
‘I do,’ I say as if it were even necessary.
‘Oh, you do, huh? But you know it’s going to hurt, right? And not in the way you like.’
My eyes grow bigger with fear as he smiles, his eyes tingling with delight. ‘You think I am going to hurt you physically and then fuck you? We don’t have time for that. We have to make it to the movies. Plus, you want it and there is no fun in that,’ he says, ‘I am going to play with you mentally. And it’s going to hurt. Do you still want to play?’
Savouring jealousy
It's such a complex feeling and such a delicious one to unpack. Jealousy is something that I have been intrigued by from the moment that I realized that it is possible to incorporate it into play. It plays on human most basic fears of loneliness, abandonment and not being enough. And that offers tremendous possibilities for emotional suffering.
Lessons on shame, objectification and humiliation in rope from Soptik and Door
Recently, I've been a model for an amazing workshop by Soptik on objectification and humiliation in rope. He asked me to be his partner because, as he says, I'm a 'perfect object'. I guess that what he means by that is that I let people do anything to me without fighting back. And I enjoy it. It was very interesting to be able to show and share with people the states in which I love to be, but also in which I am at my most vulnerable.
You like your cruel games
Sometimes I wonder if his cruelty has any borders. And what's wrong with me for being drawn exactly to that cruelty? He is capable of doing things to me that are beyond my imagination. Showing me that I will go further than I ever thought is physically or mentally possible. And then even further than that. I will stretch my limits so thinly that single strings begin to snap, just to catch a glimpse of entertainment in his eyes. Just to amuse him for a little while.
I have a thing for rejection
The moments when he points my head away from him, denying me his sight, when he reaches out to touch my face but in the last moment he slaps me instead. The moments when he pushes my body away with his foot like it's something disgusting that doesn't deserve to be touched with hands...
... are the moments that I am waiting for.
My love-hate relationship with deep-throating
There are not many things that leave me feeling as used and violated as being throat-fucked. And I both love it and hate it at the same time.