So, I like men and I like monsters. I am highly sexual by nature. Blood, death, violence, these are all sexual to me. I like knives. I like guns. I like wires and swords and fangs and claws. I like to be afraid. I like to be dominated. I like to lose control.
As you might expect, expressing and indulging in some of these interests is quite difficult for someone attempting to function in modern society. This journal is my outlet. Here you will find my fantasies, my experiences, my discoveries and, of course, my monsters.
The image I am currently using as an avatar is an old painting on one of my favorite artistic subjects; Eve and The Snake. The working title, 'take the hand', refers to an old daydream I used to have, where long, dark hands would reach down from the sky. Everyone would be terrified and run, except for me. I would reach out and take the hand.
So I think it’s time I tell you guys a little story, lest my readers become bored with too much art and not enough sex.
BDSM has long been an interest of mine, as you might guess. I recently got my first taste of it. This happened about a month ago and I have been mulling it over ever since.
I knew there was a BDSM/Kink group that met in my area and had watched their discussions on Fetlife for some time. Finally I decided to attend a munch (that’s a ‘meeting lunch’ for those not in the know, but it can refer to any meal-based meeting) and RSVP’d to the event. Soon after I received a message from a guy in my age group who would also be attending.
The munch was…interesting to say the least. As I had suspected, I was one of the youngest people there. Most of the men and women were in their forties. They were all very friendly and welcoming, I’ve found that alt sexuality types almost always are. We had a nice meal and some relatively vanilla conversation. There was a raffle of some weird random kink items, including a little set of metal claws that I won, and a small wooden paddle. The woman who won the paddle was WAY to enthusiastic in playing with it.
Finally as people were starting to leave the guy who I spoken to only approached me and asked if I’d like to ‘go to Target’ (an American department store chain). This may be the first time that this phrase has ever been employed as a pick-up line. So we rode over there to get his CD or whatever the pretense was and got to know each other. He was a military man from New Orleans on a visit to see his parents. He was also interested a variety of interesting BDSM activities. He showed me some of the gear he had with him, including rope, leather flails, and clothespins. He asked if a wanted to get a hotel.
Now, I thought long and hard about this. First of all, going to a hotel with the guy who just showed me all the ropes and clamps in his van seemed like an inherently poor choice. However, he struck me as a fairly decent and trustworthy person and I tend to be right about those things. Another concern was that the venture would lead to sex (which, surely it would). I’d never had a one night stand in my life and in fact had only had sex with one other man, my last boyfriend. The early posts in this blog contain a scant few references to him. Whether I was really ready to add number two, I wasn’t sure. Still, I was sorely tempted and, in the end, I said yes.
So, we got a hotel room. As soon as we were inside, my new friend, we’re going to call him ‘Robert’, starting rummaging around inside his bag and setting things up. Without looking at me, he said, “Go ahead and take off your clothes.” I was taken aback for a second, but I reminded myself, ‘This is how it works.’ Still, I moved to the other side of the room and turned around while I undressed. I turned back around, and he was finished with whatever he was doing. I came over and took me by the arm. He pulled me other to the side of the bed and pushed me down with me arms stretching out over the bed and my knees on the floor. He wasn’t rough, but he was firm. He took a rope and tied my hands together while they were stretched out in front of me. He started running his hands along my back, my ass and my legs. I leaned back into him. It felt good.
He left me for a second, and then I felt one of those leather flails come down on my back. It was made with long strips of soft leather, and it didn’t hurt much, at least the first time. But he kept going. With every hit, I flinched hard.
“You sure are flinchy.” he remarked.
“I know, I can’t seem to stop it. I’m sorry, I’m really trying not too.”
“Hey it doesn’t bother me, I like watching you squirm around. Although you know a lot of doms with give you an extra one for flinching like that.”
He went on for a long time, hitting my back and my ass and the back of my legs. After a while, it started to be pretty painful. I was jumping every time he hit me, I couldn’t stand it. It really, really hurt and I wanted him to stop but I kept quiet. I wasn’t going to wimp out. Every so often he would stop and lean into me and press his back against me, bite my ear. This was the part I liked best.
Finally when I thought I could stand it no longer, he stopped. He helped me up on me feet, untied my hands and told me to lay down on my stomach. Once I’m on the bed he says, “I want to try a little fireplay on you tonight.”
My jaw dropped. Now, you should know that I am mortally terrified of fire. He had mentioned being interested in fire when before we came here and I’d hoped to God that I could get avoid anything to do with it. No such luck. I felt him come over and sit beside me on the bed. I had no idea what he had in his hands and was afraid I was going to be consumed by flame any minute.
“Are you ok?” he asked. “You’re really shaking. Are you nervous?”
“Yeah kinda” this was an understatement. “But I’m alright.”
So he starts doing his fire thing on me, which involves making a trail of alcohol on my skin and pulling the lighter along it with his hand right behind so that the flame was extinguished right away. Or something like that, I never really did figure out what he was doing.
“That’s not too bad, it’s just hot but it doesn’t hurt.”
“Yeah there’s no pain, it’s all just heat. ”
He went on for a while, then told me to flip over onto my back. Having it on my chest and stomach was worse, because I could see the fire. Again, I didn’t enjoy it but I didn’t chicken out either. At long last he said he was running out of alcohol and set the stuff aside.
He came back and laid his body on top of me. He started to play with my breats and it felt so good.
“So, how do you like to be fucked?” He asked me.
“Well, as long as I’m on the bottom I guess it’s ok with me.” He chuckled. Looking back on it, that sounded unbelievably meek and lame. Next thing I know, he’s sitting next to me, and presses my hand against his cock. I started rubbing him up and down with my hand. He was already rock hard. I didn’t seem to remember him taking off his clothes but they were gone now. He pushed my head down on him and I took the hint.
I’ve always liked giving blowjobs, and been told I’m pretty good at it. I was really doing my best to impress this guy, I wanted him to be pleased with me. I guess he was a little impatient, because in just a minute or two he stopped me and went back to him bag. When he turned around, there was a condom in his hand. He slipped it onto himself and climbed back on top of me. I knew what was coming, I was so excited, this was going to feel so good.
It hurt like hell, I mean it really fucking hurt. I was really surprised about this. As I’ve mentioned, my only other sexual partner had been the boyfriend that took my virginity. In all seriousness, sex with him had not been as amazing as I had always imagined sex to be. As shallow as this sounds, it was a size problem. It’s not his fault, and I would never have said anything about it to him, but it was a real disappointment to me. Since he also had a gut that stuck out we could never get more than a couple inches of penetration. I had always imagined that if I ever ended up with a more average-sized guy that sex would be fucking fantastic.
Well, not this time. The pain was pretty bad and once again I had to grit my teeth and bear with it. We tried adding lube, even though I was soaking wet by that time. We tried flipping me around and having him come in from behind but it was no use, I couldn’t enjoy it through the pain. But he enjoyed it, and that made it well worth it for me. When he finally came inside me, hearing him moan and feeling his body clutch up against me was the most rewarding feeling.
So, that was sex. Afterwards we cleaned up, took a shower together, and spent the night in the hotel bed. I’ve been chatting with in on the internet ever since. It may not have sounded like the best time, but I see that night as a fond memory. I’ve still optimistic that if I were to get into a stable relationship and have sex on a regular basis that I would adjust to it and not end up in so much pain. On the bight side, I am a lot less nervous around fire these days. It seems I’ve finally got a handle on my phobia.
I had a very memorable dream about the Master of the Dark House recently. As I’ve mentioned, actually meeting or talking to him is rare so this was quite exciting. I was at my grandparents house, and it was some kind of family reunion because all my cousins were there, except that they weren’t the cousins I have in real life, just made-up people. I was standing off on my own when I felt someone press against my back. A voice whispered in my ear; “You won’t be able to see me, but you’ll be able to hear me, and feel me.” I knew immediately that it was him and said something about how that sounded just fine to me. He started fondling my breasts and instantly my body was very hot and aroused. Feeling his body pressed against me as he touched me made it all the better. These moments have been all I can think about for the past two days. It’s a shame they didn’t last. Suddenly we were not longer alone, my family was all around, and he picked me up and was trying to get me somewhere more private. This quickly turned from trying to find a new spot to an all-out escape attempt as my cousins swarmed in and started attacking us with lazer guns. Somehow I ended up on his shoulders ridding piggy back and we were zooming around trying to escape. Now that I think about it this is rather odd since I wasn’t supposed to be able to see him, but now that he was in front of me I could see him just fine. He was a tall, slender man (lol slenderman) wearing a long Victorian overcoat. He had short, dark hair. After this went on for a while, I suddenly realized that I was now steering/piloting the thing I was riding on, and that it was no longer the master but had turned into a human-sized gundam. I think I eventually escaped on the Gundam, but I don’t really remember the rest of the dream.