It happened this evening. Out of nowhere. I have never been into needle play, needles scare me…but I have the sudden craving to be tacked. To push the fine points of multiple tacks into a pattern on my breasts and my ass..to photograph it, slight red trickles and all..
I was looking in the mirror after my shower, and I raised my arms into the air, crossed my wrists, and stared. I could “see” ,imagine a perfect circle of pushpins around the outside of the pale pink of my nipples, I started to space..
Just the pin prick sensation, the slightest bloodletting.
And I could feel a pattern on the burning cheeks of my ass, my inner thighs. Its the urge to see something pretty, the pattern against my white skin, and to feel the sting of each little push.
I know I have to swab with alcohol and soak, and only penetrate the slightest depth..but the craving is intense, it is shocking, sometimes I do practice sadomasochistic acts solo, I’ve inserted freezer chilled butterknives into my cunt, sat spread eagled in front of an old vanity circular mirror and slid in one of those wine corkscrews and then opened it like a speculum, I have lit my nipples flashing back and forth with a lighter,I love to strap my cunt with leather, but my Dominant will not let me actually cut without his supervision because I space so deeply. I’ve only used a sharp blade with his prescence.
Tonight, it seems to becoming from some almost inarticulate artistic urge, something masochistic, an ache, but combined with the desire to see my blood , and to feel for the first time a prick sensation..the hunger it is sanguine and I feel the veil of space closing over me..the desire to see something beautiful,
my clamps won’t do it tonight tho I love them on my clit, and nipples..has anyone else had a new craving come out of nowhere and feel compelling, and begin to space just imagining the look of it?
If I get permission I will take a photo, it is like some artistic ritual longing.. tonight..
to express using my skin as drumscape..
Carnality is a curve. On the subject of appetite, I have taken note that it ebbs and flows in females..
that what we call desire, emotionally, spiritually, physically is complexly interwoven , and that our own biochemistries, the biosphere that we intimately live in our own flesh, blood, and breath is influenced cyclically by the cycles of the month ..
I am absolutely feral in the mid month phase of my cycle, it is then that my violence fetish is bladed and aggressive in feel, towards the end of my cycle the energy is less feral, more muted, mixed with emotion, and I am very susceptible to trance at this time..
Mid month finds me rooftoppin, full on howl, bring it on, a week later and I am more emotive, in want of being fed, nurtured rather than the excitement of combat stance…
I wonder what others have noticed in these sometimes jagged peaks and valleys or their partners have noted ..solo or in relation one can become incredibly attuned to the various energies..that we all have..
I see the same cycle in men, however it is less jagged, less of a trapeze act, more consistent. Still, I have read they follow a roughly 28 day cycle as well..
Do men really think of sex every seven seconds.? I don’t know how I could function that way..I’d consider it handicapping, but I guess you adapt.
I remain infinitely influenceable tho, if I WANT to be cued..smiling.
And the more one immerses oneself in an awareness of the sometimes subtle and not so subtle energies they give out and take in, the more one sees the erotic as a wide rather than narrow river.
i Woke from a dream and in it i was Begging you to have Sex with me on cam bc, as i
said in My dream we’d already had sex in person, in R/t ,and tho i had Experienced you in every other way ,i had not visually,it was one of those post/sleep chaotic Moments when it All merges, the Tails of Many things, and i was searchin, searchin….
not onli bc i was NOT certain we had had R/t sex but also bc you looked like Someone else in My dream,but you/were/not/Him, you/were/You ,and i felt Something Significant had Happened,but i was Not Sure What, and then i Rose and went to My door, and it was Wide Open and i KNEW it HAD been left Shut, and i Thought was Someone here while I slept? Have i been the victim of a
and then i went to my deck and Looked out across the Water, and there was a rainbow Strung across the Metallic evening Skies, and the Trees were Shivering The Way They do when a Storm is coming…
and i re/Called your Voice, and i re/Membered You, it was so Very Very Late, Long Past Coherence, there Was no sex,no subspace, just this and onli this, Your voice, Orpheus Descending,dreaming me Down,Down into inchoate layers, Lost, interpretative Dance,Open to Any and All Meanings i Might assign This,
inDelibly Scrawled,Forever Archived,You,you,you…
and i WANTED to Call Somebody Somewhere and Report a
but The Crime remains Undefined, and the
Perpetrator has noface/1000 faces…
i heard the faintest LullaBye thats What
Hush, hush, Babe,
but there Was No Singer standing
Just 5 a.m Dialtone and
When looking at porn, so many of the pictures present the subjects of the photo as static, to be possessed by the viewer, all there solely for the discreet pleasure of the one who would appropriate, the viewer.
However, when the subject..looks back at the viewer, says fuck you, I see you looking at me,
I SEE you..the power exchange is turned on its tail..
there is an ironic inverse..
The subject-object appropriates the viewer’s gaze
this is a power stance
and it a complete different sensation to experience than
passive beauty, no matter how dark and threatening the get up.
Is the subject objectifying the viewer…???
poecatt’s smirk for the day..
When I see others’ art of this nature, I am drawn into the force of their pyschic persona, not simply their corporeal body.
Who , I wonder then, is actually eating who?
In erotic trancing power exchange..both feel the draw…
you think looking at her breasts is hot..look into the eyes of a woman who knows herself powerfully as subject AND object..I dare you…
Something for both submissives and Dominants to give thought to..
What’s in a picture?
Plenty. This image from Dracula contains multiple elements that draw on the gothic genre …beauty and the beast, the darks’ hunger for the innocent and as yet untouched,that by appropriating the life force of the light , the dark is somehow empowered , sustained.
The suggestion that the Submission of the victim is one of trance, a coparticipation in exploring the pyschic depths, willing and unwilling, what lies veiled under the guise of immobility? What aggressions lie within “sleeping beauty”? to be awoke?
The placement of the hand on the “victim’s” breast, a breast mounded, swollen in excitement, anticipation, yet this knowledge filtered almost dreamlike into the submissive’s consciousness.
The coming bite, the sinking into a number of pyschic feilds of the other, not thru genital penetration, but thru that intimate of power exchanges, throat claiming throat….the power of pyschic domination.
The Domination by mind, not cock.
Dracula is commanding because as a archetypal figure his mixed and merged command of the erotic and the matrix of sadism and masochism..
is based on mind energy..the energies that spill to the supernatural, not merely brute embodied strength.
As such the symbolism of the bite is cerebral as much if not even more so than carnal..
I will penetrate your very dreams.
I will subjugate you thru energy exchange.
Our bond defies the sheerly physical.
The submissive is not all passivity and holly go lightly…to be awakened is a dicy card..sadism and masochism mirror one another as desires, the masochist appropriating the tools of the sadist to break the bonds of self, to
explore aggressive instincts towards both self and other..masochism is POWER. Blood, not procreation , is viral.
This picture suggests all this and more..phallic domination is the least of it, and perhaps this is what appeals to the highbrow in the lovers of goth and Dracula.. penetration is broadened beyond the almighty cock, or even the cock becomes superfluous..
just some musings from the cat..a ash, a footprint, a little tune in the dark, feel free to comment ..
I carefully prepare my bath. I draw the water, hot steaming. I step into it, crouch, unfold, sink back…
The water covers me over, folds against my body-self.
Here, there is no breathing. Here, there is only heartbeat.
I ask myself how long do I have the courage to stand it/ to float without words, thought, as heatbeat slowly amplifies till it is all?
One, two, three…
Stop fighting it. Breath will follow any submersion surely as night follows day.
The instinct is flesh fighting soul.
Not now, not yet.
Why do I call myself a sadomasochist?
Perhaps because I have a huge sadean sensibility..perhaps I have learned in this culture to objective myself as a female, and although I am a flaming masochist…I can easily fantasize new acts of sadism towards myself.
Letting down the walls of possibility, the opaque mind reveals new possibilities for sensation..auditory, kinesthetic, scent, tactile, visual.
I am a sensualist and a hard core maso. Power exchange excites me, however I view myself as strong, not weak.
I see myself as the dancer to the sadean choreography, in tandem expressing thru my response a virtual feast for my Dominant.
Most Sadeans I have known, and I distinguish them from garden variety sadists by this : have a keen appreciation for nuance and enjoy and are empowered by artfully orchestrating a plethora of responses emotionally and physically in their masochistic partner.
S/m is but one aspect of power exchange but sadists and masdochists can master their respective arts by exercizing their gifts of imagination.
The more psychological the play, the more aeesthtic senses it appeals to., the more it resembles a virtuoso as opposed to a country done em wrong tune.
study your art, whether it be of the sadean variety that you deliver, or the masochistic..there is much to learn and discover..and at the end of the day it remains an art touched by mystery and the holy, not a science.