I have a kid. Kyle. He is not my biological child. Alas, he is in my care and his mother is not in the picture along with his father. So I became Mama by default.
I love Kyle to no end and after his twin brother’s death, if anything hurts him it dies by my bare hands. That being said…There is a reason all mothers are bat shit crazy. They love their children and think they are the best and would do anything for them and want no harm to come to them… at the same time you want to ring their little necks.
No do not play with that… do not eat that… let me dig the cockroach you found and are trying to eat from your mouth…EEW. You just peed all over me. You just puked on my favourite shirt. You pooped literally five minutes ago,I changed you, you pooped again and got it EVERYWHERE! How did you get poop on your eyebrows?!
Screaming for hours and no matter what you do… feeding… playtime… TV… nap-time… he will not stop. Nothing will work. I wonder if a ball gag should be used on a baby… And then he smiles. He giggles. I can not help but giggle with him. Instant forgiveness for driving me to the brink of sanity.
It has been a while. I have been busy at work. Working 10 hours 7 days a week is exhausting. So here goes nothing…
I have been asked what BDSM is. I have been asked what it means to me and why I would not only partake in this lifestyle but cherish it. I think I finally have a little bit of an answer brought to light by the death of an infant. Granted I would have rather have never known than go through what has happened in the past few weeks, but it happened and it has made me think.
I am not close to my family at all. Not even in this tragedy, did I confide in any of them. The closest I got to that, was telling Mom I was here if she needed me and that I loved her very much. July 12, 2014 my five month old nephew died. Kayden was his name. His twin brother Kyle is still here and doing just fine. For reasons I will not disclose, the family does not believe the death was natural and was the fault of the mother. Yes, the baby was my nephew. I held him. Comforted him when he cried. Fed him. Laughed when he laughed and his smile would be as contagious as a yawn. I was there when he came home and I held him and wiped his smelly booty every now and then. He was the happiest baby I knew. Innocent. Oh how I envied him and his innocence. Him and his brother made my heart melt.
That Saturday, the 12th, I went out with a friend and we had fun and I needed to come home to get some sleep for work since I worked nights. He pulled up to my driveway and it was full of lights and cars and time stopped. I could not think. He had to tell me to get out and see what happened. He used to do these calls as a cop. He knew. So did I. I got home just in time to hear that my sweet little nephew, Kayden, was dead. Immediately I left my friend and told Mom and picked up Kyle. I made Kyle mad because he was eating. Haha. I held him close and cried. The first time I really cried since I was a child. I still cry. I had to let Kyle finish his bottle so I gave him back to Mom and went and cried on my friend. Every day I look at the driveway and I still see the lights flashing, cops standing by the ambulance, all the cars, and the tears of my mother.
A few hours later all I wanted (other than my nephew back of course) was a scene. Not really sex, just a scene. The intimacy. The feeling of security. I wanted to feel the safety and weight of a collar. All I could think was what in the hell is wrong with me?! The same thing happened at the funeral. I saw a dead infant and all I wanted was to feel a ring of steel locked around my neck. I am a twisted person, but this was odd even for me. I wanted to be beaten. I wanted to feel pain. I wanted to orgasm from the mixture of pain and pleasure. Anything for a distraction, and this is what I turned to. I wanted the high of adrenaline and the euphoria of dopaimine. This would make me feel safe. Distracted and safe. It made me think. I still have not pieced it all together but I do know that in the arms and collar of one I trust with my life I feel safe. This is what I craved. I wanted to feel safe.
A dear friend (Trblemaker) asked me to look inside me and see what I fear. This was before all of this happened. I was not able to answer him. I came up with a half assed answer that I did not even send to him. I fear a lot of things: the dark, violent arguing, people… I now know what I fear. I am terrified I will see another dead child. If I go my entire life and never see one again it will be an eternity too soon. I am terrified I will lose Kyle. I am willing to murder in cold blood to protect him. I fear the siren. I fear flashing lights. I fear letting Kyle sleep because he might not wake up.
I fear I will once again lose one I love. I am afraid to love.
The look that makes her fall to her knees.
The one she craves.
Something flashes in his eyes.
“You are MINE!”
That one look makes her not want to please him
But need to please him.
With that look she would kill if he asked her to.
She yearns for it.
I yearn for it.
I crave it.
I need it.
I actually started researching and learning about this lifestyle at age 12 as role playing online. I researched and experimented on myself. When I turned 18, I got into the BDSM lifestyle just for kinky sex at first. When i actually started to explore the lifestyle I realized the deep connection that the Dom and sub have. The relationship is so deep and personal. My personal experience has made me feel naked. Not physically naked but mentally naked. I have had to reveal the deepest darkest parts of myself and trust some man that I barely knew with more than my life. I had to trust Him with my mind. All of my walls, masks, and barriers were taken down for Him so that He could have me.. vulnerable and naked. Exposed in every way. The level of trust and intimacy that the Dom/sub duo can share in a single look is almost unfathomable to me. I have experienced it once. Now I am addicted.
BDSM (although the sex is fucking fantastic) does not have to have sex. Trust and communication is all that’s necessary. I have actually had a Dom/sub relationship with no sex at all. I was thirteen at the time but that it irrelevant. There was masturbation but no intercourse- oral, anal, or otherwise. The consensual violence was alluring, a rush of adrenaline, endorphins, and arousal. Just enough of a hint of danger and the unknown to relax the mind.
I recently ended my search for a suitable Dominate. For this I will just call him Sir and his wife Princess. Princess, Sir, and I get along very well. We all talk to each other and tell all that goes on between the three of us. I never thought I would ever enjoy a wife watching me do naughty things with her husband and have her get aroused.
I never thought that I could not only give up my body to some man so quickly, but give up my mind. I would never have said within a week I would allow him to hold my mind in his hands and twist it to his will and push my boundaries. it was not like I had just met him. I had met him a year previously but I never really talked to him. He was more like a friend of a friend in a group. No real conversation really happened until I got bored and decided to post on one of his wife’s statuses.
I have become connected with this strange man who takes great pleasure in beating me with leather and making me scream in pleasurable pain.. I look forward to several years under his firm hand and I could not be more proud to call him “Sir.”
I just started a relationship about a month ago. I have a very bad habit of falling hard and fast for a guy and scaring them away. Alas, this guy does not scare easily. For this thing I will call him Chaos. Anyway, words are how I communicate. Yes, everyone communicates with words but I communicate better with written word. I suck at talking. It is just how it is. I recently told him that I wanted to not only be his girlfriend but to be his submissive as well. I have thought a lot about this over the past couple years that I have been heavily into this alternative lifestyle, but I never thought that it would come into play, or at least not come into play for a while. My reasoning is that being a submissive is part of who I am. Luckily, being a dominate is part of who he is. I believe that a long term, strong, and healthy relationship can not happen between Chaos and myself if we do not integrate these parts of ourselves into our relationship. I like Chaos a lot. He is funny, sweet, caring, smart, creative.,,,,
I am afraid of scaring him away. I am afraid of being too clingy even though all I want to do is talk to him. I enjoy talking to him almost too much. It scares me sometimes because I get so excited when I start talking to him. Chaos makes me so happy that I could shit lime green pandas. Even with his schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, depression, erectile dysfunction, and bad heart, he makes me the happiest that I have been in a long time. I would not trade any of his flaws in for anything. To me they are not even flaws.
I am a nympho and he has made me not care about sex. I am willing to give up sex for him. I have even told him that his penis is like the free bonus gift that comes with a package that you order. It is awesome that there is a free bonus gift but it is not what you care about the most.
One of these days I will let him read this post that I am up at three in the morning writing. One of these days when I am not so afraid…
I am falling down into the rabbit hole. Someone catch me?
Sorry peoples. Skool has gotten my free time all the way fucked up. Until i can really do much of anything, I will post random pictures that I think are amazing. 🙂