In the morning

I wake up at about 5.45 every morning. I was never a morning person, but I have 2 jobs in order to give myself extra cash towards holidays and such.

I roll out of bed and curse the fact that it is still dark outside, what I would give to have them extra 2 hours in bed!

I am a hard worker. I do everything possible to make myself happy and get what I want.
I would love to be a 'kept woman' but that isn't always possible. So for now, Ill make my own money and be satisfied that the things I buy is all down to me and no one else.

I enjoy my journey to work everyday. It is too early for the mad school rush and kids yelling and causing havoc on the back seats, everyone is quiet, thoughtful...or maybe I am the only thoughtful one and everyone else is still asleep.

I like watching the sky get lighter and the activities of a morning street. Street lights switching off, cleaners in their little sweeping machines trying their best to make the grotty city look brighter and less damaged, people huddling themselves into duffel coats to keep themselves warm.

I like to imagine my bitch, taking me to my first job, which is only a 2 hour cleaning shift. I sit with my feet up on the desk whilst he cleans around me. I take all the cash and he is happy doing it for me too. Giving him a peck on the cheek and a ball twist before he drives off home to build me more kinky furniture, do the household chores and anything else my imagination springs out.

Later in the day, at my 2nd job he arrives early to pick me up. He smokes in the truck till I finish work and as I walk towards him a big grin appears on both our faces. I jump in beside him and give him another peck.

We chat on our way home about what he has done today and I evaluate whether it is sufficient or not. He opens the front door and nods towards me to enter first. I stand in the small hallway and he immediately drops to his knees and begins to untie my warm boots.

To the right of the front door is a small hook where his collar hangs. Before he has finished with the boots, I put his collar on. He stands and takes my bag and my jacket before I head into the living room. He then deals with himself, taking off his boots and jacket and silently crosses the room to the kitchen. Without a word spoken he makes his way back and kneels before me with a hot cup of coffee in his hands. I take it and he puts on the TV and hands me the remote.

He crawls back and on all fours, positions himself parallel with the sofa. I lean back and use my lovely little footstool, sipping my coffee and relaxing before the dinner he has carefully and precisely made for me.

What i wouldn't give to have that afternoon....that day....that life.

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Parts of me wonder how many people we pass every day, have secret lives indoors.

Ive been on 'fetish' dating websites and to be honest....they all seem abit bland! I found it very difficult when I was looking for someone to find a man who I fancied and was into all the same I am. Not that I am picky, but you have to feel comfortable right?

I had never considered I would be the type who liked torturing and abusing others. I never considered I would enjoy water sports as much as I do. A few years ago I would of been offended by someone bringing up scat play.

I think it takes the someone to bring these things out in you.

I wish when I went on my trip I had enough time to experience everything we had discussed before, unfortunately some things there just wasn't time for. However I am saving them things up for the next time.

Every day since I discovered these things appeal to me, the world has not looked the same.

I see a kinky use for all types of mundane furniture. Sofa's that can easily be turned into a relaxing face sitting couch. Dining room chairs that can be used to tie a slave too. Desks that could fit a bitch under and under-stairs cupboards used as cages.

Nothing is the same once you have had that experience once.

I miss having him around, miss having someone to do what I want to and who would do what ever I ask.

Ah well...perusing the Internet for inspirational photo's shall have to do for now.

Kicks

Firstly; if you are a prude, easily offended or generally narrow minded you might as well press that little red cross in the top right corner now. Don't say I didn't warn you.

I have always been open minded about sexuality; who you like, what you like is something that cannot be helped. Its genetics and people who tell you, you're sick or wrong are denying themselves of a truly amazing world. I 'came out' to my parents on my 15th birthday that I was bisexual and have had relationships with both sex's...as I said open minded and from a young age was taught that it was OK to be who I wanted to be.

Ive always been fascinated by fetish's, intrigued by what makes people tick. My fetish...is fetish. I was about 17 when I realised there was more than just 'sex' in sexuality. Google was my research assistant and I explored my boundaries. I found, nothing offended me.

Page after page I studied the more sedate things, swinging, furry handcuffs and role play in the bedroom. After time my clicks diverted to more hardcore things, Total Power Exchange, bondage, choking, rape scenarios etc.

The man..sorry...'lad' I was with at the time didn't get it. I wanted to try these things, just to experience and find out what i liked and what i didn't but to no avail.

We split up after some family issues and it gave me the opportunity to hunt down men that would try these things. I was an Internet fiend. I prayed all over 'hook-up' websites for the right open minded person.

The first few things I tried were as me being submissive. I enjoyed it, nothing...amazing really. Nothing that made me so excited that I thought....yup this is me. Some rope bondage, some very rough sex that left me with bruises on my face from him slapping me, even knife play. Non of which really did anything for me.

After getting into a bad situation with one person, I was knocked back. He took advantage of the fact I wanted to try these things and abused the trust I had in him. Yeh, it ain't nice, but it would never stop me on my fetish quest in the long term.

Then, along came a submissive male. It didn't start out as a D&s thing really, we were both sexually attracted to each other, both aware of each others turn on's but at the time I never considered being someone that was worth worshipping.

He made me feel special, powerful and like I could do anything to him without him freaking out. He made furniture, pixelated furniture but still...furniture. Beautiful, imaginative and down right kinky as hell!

I helped him with 'sizing'...adjustments and such and found I enjoyed them. I loved him being tied in the positions he was in. I'm not stupid, I know he was getting more out of it than just measurements....but so was I.

I feel for him. Head over heals in love and besotted by the power he gave me. I gave him orders, shouted, screamed and cursed at him....all of which, felt great. Being able to finally abuse a man without him yelling back at me. Getting my way, how I wanted it and when I wanted it.

Our relationship this far, was only virtual. He rebuilt my confidence and brought out that stubborn bitch that was deep inside me. I vowed I would experience this in reality.

3 years later I finally flew out to meet him. I felt ridiculous again being judged for taking such a big leap of faith. Telling friends and family I would be fine, all the time doubt trickling over my new found Dominance that this could all go terribly wrong.

But it didn't. It completed my long 9 year quest to find my fetish.

I sat on his face and had my ass cleaned. I forced my sweaty feet between his lips. I squirted pee into his open mouth. Nothing felt wrong or weird. Every single second of it felt like this was it, this is what I am meant to be doing.

The most erotic, satisfying and heart pounding part of it...was putting his new leather collar round his neck. That feeling that I owned him, he was mine and was giving himself to me. Trusting me and my decisions, giving me everything I needed.

Now a few months after the trip I feel incomplete and lost that my new bitch isn't here with me. Isn't right next to me making me feel perfect again and making me feel worth something.

I need to feel like it again and already plan to head out there again next year.
I will return every year until he is able to be in a TPE relationship. I wont give up and I will get what I want.

I found mine, if you haven't already....trust me, go find yours. It will be the best thing you have ever done.

A lonely heart

I cant sleep.
Thoughts of sharing my empty, vast bed with him fill my mind.

There are parts of me that always question if our relationship is purely one of desire and sexuality. For the most part...it is. But why is that necessarily a bad thing?

I remember the pain of leaving him. The brief goodbye through misty eyes as i hurried into the taxi. A sax player began a tune on a street corner out of my range but not out of his. The sax played The long and winding road, by the beatles into the street just as he was driving past. He said it was almost too much. It almost broke him.

I remember thinking of him in his truck, gripping his wheel and trying to block the heart wrenching sounds from his ears. I sat on the pavement at terminal 3, smoking cigarette after cigarette hoping they would help hold back the tears about to roll down my cheek.

I prayed he would turn up. Rescue me from the security que. Tell me i didnt have to go. Nothing.
I asked him to marry me. Mostly cause i couldnt handle leaving him. The rest cause i want to spend foreve with him. They are really the same thing i think.

With doubt, tears and sheer regret they let me through the detectors. That was it, i couldnt get out now. Or could i? My eyes scanned the corridors wondering if i could escape this journey. Nothing.

I grabbed a pizza, a beer, which i needed...badly. I put my headphones in and sobbed into the pepperoni and cheese. Dont think ive ever downed a pint so quickly in all my life.

The plane was like a big metallic bitch of red tape and politics forcing me to leave. Thankfully i had a spare seat. No questions about my obvious need to be alone and cry.

The city was stunning upon take off. I tried to follow the bright orange lights towards his home. Unsure if i got it right or not. Thinking he was down there, somewhere, looking out for me.

Every day at work, on my break i stand out side. I curse each plane i see. Thinking there is someone on that, going to see someone they love....and its not me.
It aches that i cant feel him now. Deep within my chest. How can something emotional have a physical pain to it? S'weird what the body can do.

I lay here now, my face lit up with my phone, all around is black. If i light up the space to my right, he isnt there. I wish he was in this big empty space.

Life dosnt feel right. Bleak, monotone, dull and with a void bigger than marianna's trench.
Im gonna close my eyes, and drift of to him. Feel him, smell him, hear him next to me, begging me to stay.
If only's.

Lost in reality

First I ask if you are reading this alone to click the song link first. Music puts you in a place nothing else can, it can open doors in your mind that can change the scenes that unfold before you. Read along whilst listening to the posts track. S'all I ask of you.

Sia - My Love

My life is a movie. Scenes play out in my mind in slow motion.
My life is a soundtrack. Songs play to every step I take.

I wonder if my eyes see the world differently to others. I wonder if the world appears in a different format to me.

I am a hopeless romantic. Lost in fantasy that love will prevail all difficulties.

The man my heart craves for, lives in a separate world to me. Over 3000 miles away.
2 months ago I met him. It was all like some amazing film.
Now my world has been completely disconnected from that of my old life.

I stare out of windows on long journey's. Wondering what he is doing now, who he is with, where his life is taking him. Further or closer to me?

The acoustic version of 'High and Dry' by Radiohead plays through my mind most mornings, along with scenes of myself staring longingly out a window. I can close my eyes for ten minutes and see the details of his face. See his marks and scars of time and experience. See his sad eyes; lost in the torturous pain of being in love with someone so far away, yet having someone so close who has the comfort of consistency and loyalty.

The years slip past and both the worlds we are in develop and warp into film sets filled with extras. The only constant thing in our lives is that yearning to be together.

When I first saw him in reality, it was like this cosmic electric energy just drew us towards each other. I replay every moment of our passionate 10 day affair over and over. In more ways than any...faithful...person can know, it feels so unavoidably soul destroying to be the other woman, and to be in love with him.
I do hate myself for what I am doing to his 'constant' girlfriend. I know what I am doing. I know any other person reading this will say I'm a crazy bitch. But when something is so perfect, the time you are together completely changes how the world looks, it is to hard turn your back on something like that.

The last 3 years now, I have been single. No one else comes anywhere close to how he makes me feel. I have tried, i have been on dates, i have met less geologically challenging men. Not one I have felt anything close to beautiful with.

I have a heart filled with film scores. Each piano note, each violin string, each strum of a base is pulling me more towards that of a fictional character that the movie will lend a happy ending too.

3000 miles, £3000 and a leap of faith is all it would take to give it a shot.

Today, my life is a lost, drawn out, sad, single piano key. All alone and painfully depressing. Tomorrow may hold a symphony, or it may hold no sounds whatsoever, all i can do is try and play....right?




Format
by Bryn Oh

Would I format my mind,
if I could come back new,
with no hurt nor loss,
but no memories of you?

Do I have enough love,
to rust away?
could I delete it all,
for a new first day?

I wish I could change,
some of the things I've done,
take some steps,
where I had taken none.

But you are gone now,
and I sit alone,
where an acorn fell,
now fully grown.

and I write you poems,
in garamond font,
because I am content to fade,
as I have no wants.