Monday, 2 February 2015

A new Dom

Yes, indeed, I have a new Dom.
This is not a new person in my life, in fact I've known him for quite some time. He's a dear friend, who loved to flirt with me as well. And then I broke up with my old Dom, and he was there for me. He had my back, supported me, made sure I was all right, or as all right as was possible. My friend.

And when I was feeling better, he became serious about becoming my Dom. He swept me off my feet, from halfway across the world. So all of a sudden I had a new Dom, who is nothing like my old Dom.
With Him I never feel unnoticed, unheard, unappreciated. Yes, there are plenty of problems, mostly to do with the distance and the time difference, but with Him I know what He expects from me, I know that I please Him, I know that He loves me. And I love him.

I love him when he sees me, I love him when he hears me, I love him when he tells me he loves me, I love him when he thanks me for what I do for him, I love him when he tells me I'm beautiful. And I love Him.

I love Him when I feel He demands too much of me, I love Him when His desires don't coincide with mine, I love Him when He asserts Himself, I love Him when He insists I humble myself to Him, I love Him when He makes me hurt myself, I love Him when He makes me cum for Him, I love Him when He loves me to offer myself to others.

My friend, my love, my Dom, my own. I love him and I love Him.

Wednesday, 1 October 2014


I had a session last Thursday, almost a week ago, a session with Luke. It was way over due, I ached for pain. We had planned this for a week earlier, but life interfered, as it does. But the day finally came, and Luke was here, with a cane and a sjambok.
When I got into position for the caning, leaning over the back of a chair, before the first stroke fell, I already was crying. With every stripe painted on my behind, I cried harder, and harder, and harder, while I wanted more, still more, even when I had enough I still wanted more.
But Luke refused to give me more, and the sjambok never got used. He stopped, told me I needed a friend more than the pain, took care of the few drops of blood, we had tea, I sat at his feet. We spent the afternoon together, went over to his place, watching silly movies on the computer, chatting, me crocheting, me crying, crying, crying.

The evening before I had been texting with Andrew. The exchange had unnerved me, not so much because of the news he gave me, but of the way it was delivered. So when Luke came that morning I was upset. That was why I cried even before even we started, that was why I was crying the rest of the day. It had hit me: I was not happy with the relationship between my Dom and me, and I had not been for some time.

When I came home from Luke, I took a look at the messages my Dom and I had exchanged over time. I realised that Andrew and I are mismatched. I felt all the hurt there had been, the hurt I had closed my eyes against, because I wanted, needed it to work.
But it did not work. No matter how much we both want it to, it does not. I have him under my skin, he is part of me, I have no idea how to go on without him, I want him, need him.
That evening I broke up with him.

Sunday, 14 September 2014

I think I dodged a bullet here

This is long, very long. It starts of nice and light, gets curious quickly, and after that it becomes really weird. All of this are conversations on FetLife.
I loved one of her pics, a rope bondage one. According to her profile she lives in Antarctica. Cool, not everybody cares to let people know where they live.
I live in New Zealand now, but until last year I lived in the Netherlands, which has Belgium and Germany as neighbours, so I have knowledge of both countries.
My comments in italics
"Translations into English in quotation marks"

Tnx for loving my pic
written 3 days ago:
I'm just an ordinary german girl.
Nothing special.


written 3 days ago:
Ah, well, I love bondage (pics), and I don't care about the nationality of the person being tied.
I had been looking at her other pictures. Dutch text, she told me she is German, so I answered her partly in Dutch, partly in German, partly in English, just because I can.
"Are you really German? Your text with the picture of Antwerp is surely in Dutch. Well, you should know best." Antwerpen is a beautiful city, it has been way too long since I was there last.


written 3 days ago:
Antwerp is full of all kinds of criminality !

Even IS and Syria-recruiting.

Stay away from some parts of Antwerp!!!!!


More info in a PM (if needed)

No idea why Syria would be recruiting and absolutely no idea what she means by IS, but it sounds like a friendly warning nonetheless.

written 2 days ago:
It will be a while until I get back to Europe again, let alone Antwerpen. I mainly remember the city from my youth, visiting the Zoo.
I am not surprised there is a lot of crime there, there always has been: diamonds and tourists attract criminals, it is the same in Amsterdam. Luckily most tourists encounter nothing worse than the occasional purse snatcher, and I am not in the habit of visiting shady neighbourhoods.
But thank you for the warning.


written 2 days ago:
Hello to Canterbury, NZ!

where we lived crime was sometimes 98% of the habitants.

That's why I fled as first to [European country].

As promised, I will look at your pics now.

If intererested, a free visit at Sylvester (the 31st of December) in [European country] can be arranged.


Now I am thinking: did she really offer to pay for a trip to Europe for me? Really? Can't be, I must be mistaken. But let's make sure. Because if she did, there must be something she wants in return.

written 2 days ago:
New Year's Eve in [European country], that would be a first.
But spending all that money just to attend a party, that's not in my budget.

One of these years I will visit Europe again, see my friends, have fun with them, buy myself stroopwafels.

written 2 days ago:
Hello, good morning !


Why don't you not consider waffles from "Jules De Strooper" ?

Even King Filip I and Queen Mathilde buys them !


° For those who fucks on the party !

OK, where did she say totally free of charge in her previous message? And if I need to fuck in return: how is it free? Still, it seems to be too much, a trip for a fuck, so I ask some questions.

written 1 day ago:
What is the catch? You would pay for my trip from New Zealand to [European country], just to see a 57 year old woman fuck at a party? There is nothing on my profile to tell you I would be into that. So why?

written about 23 hours ago:
Hello Julia,

sorry, let's stop it here.


Now I am to blame because I don't know how things go in Europe, and because I dare to ask for clarification.

I checked her profile and found a large text in Dutch, with some hints to tell me she is not German, but Belgium, from the Flemish part, where the first language is Dutch. To avoid misunderstandings, I decide to address her in Dutch now.


written about 22 hours ago:

"Let's change to Dutch, with hour Flemish and my Dutch background that should be no problem." I made a typo here, hour instead of your. This becomes slightly important later.
"No, it is not true, not everyone in Europe dates. There are people in committed relationships that don't cheat. There are people that don't sleep with just anybody. There are people that do not want to have sex in public. I can not believe that this has all changed in the year since I left there."
"And it is not strange that I wonder what the meaning is of this generous offer. But if the answer to my question is met with this much outrage, it would seem clear the motivation is not good."


written about 18 hours ago:
"Hour indeed!" She saw my typo, and seems to be insulted by it. I have no idea what is so terrible about it. And now she starts raving. And I have no idea what she is going on about. Her stepfather, her mother, her same sex lover, her pictures, an old enemy. Anything and everything that has nothing to do with me or her offer.

"You have not ever hear about the (by now) more than 35 years old vendetta between the "proper" gentleman [Name] and my stepfather (because the last one did **not** want to smoke hash at the organisational meeting of [Organisation])"

"You also don't know that this called one of the deep red colour; retained the correspondence of [Nameto be able to give every female potential sub/slave/slut :his own brand of "greeting"! (Most of them never returned)"

"You also don't know that this "proper" gentleman wants to live like Serge Gainsbourg (the late) BOOZE AND DRUGS! Brigitte Bardot, Brigitte Lahaie will never have been in "[Name]'s bed..."

"You will also don't know then, that being a woman you need to pay for your own gang-bang in the sex shack of the "[Name]" (according to the diary of my horny mother)"

"And you certainly won't know that [Name] designed a bollenstand once; that could should loose into your uterus! Yes, pregnant woman can be horny at times as well ..."
I have no idea what she's trying to say here, or what a bollenstand might be.

"You don't even realise, that the Dutch only talk with their own "friends clique" (and the Dutch that moved to Berlin)."

"Once I waited weeks and months, in vain, for a 19 year old "man" from [part of the Netherlands], who did not "dare" come to have a coca-cola!!! (the man of 2001 excuses …) (from his worried parents to the obligation to take care of the pets from minute to minute: I thought they had a farm at their home ....)"

"And yes, I removed Skype and other IM's from my laptop!"
"On the advice of my mother, who is a criminologist and therefore knows best about preventing crime (there are repeats on the Flemish news broadcast about every two days, isn't that nice?)"

"I can show you all the 24x36 mm or 6x6 cm negatives or memory cards from my digital camera, right!"
"We have had it with the nonsense of the FetLife "caretakers"."

"And I have totally finished my education at the [redacted] art academy."

"My mother really has had skin cancer twice and got early retirement. Her own lover and the guys she wants to entertain can+must do just about anything, except hitting her face; but the men LOVE THAT…."

"I really live in [redacted] and we have supplied jobs for people from less fortunate countries."

"So now I have to pay 2 Euro to the frauds of (who managed 112 dating-sites with the same female members on all) ???"

"I can check those little women's notebooks with the hope of family and (girl)friends. I can do the girlie-talk..."

"Am I a dirty dyke, because I have a relationship with a woman right now?"

"Are my cunt and arse lost for the male chauvinist pigs?"

"Together with [Partner] we can get enough of them for successful threesomes!"

"Am I a real whore, because my cunt is no longer "tight"; as the unploughed teenager's (18+) cracks??"

"You are married, so you can give me the life's lessons, I have been told since my [Youth] in [European city]."

"Yes, a real German bitch..."


written about 17 hours ago:

"Nicely observed by [Partner], who came out of her kitchen for a moment, because I saw red with anger."

"Ah well, "stupid youth" fooled again by someone from one of our former neighbouring countries."

"And that Maxima is a winner!" That is true, the Dutch queen, Maxima, is an awesome woman.

"(See picture in Bild with her all leather suit, which for once will =not= be from Nathan, or borrowed from our deep freeze Mathilde)"

"Real_Name is really angry, OK!!"

written about 2 hours ago:
"My apologies for the typo, I meant "your", not "hour"."
"Yes, I am single, you saw correctly and I never denied it. But how have I fooled you? What did I do to you? You made me an offer, I asked further, because it surprised me you would want go give an unknown, older woman such a trip as a present."
"Did I insult you because I asked further? Because I am careful? Because I do not have blind faith in every stranger on the internet?"

"I did not mean to hurt you, or to judge you. I am sorry if you got that impression."

"Can I give you one word of advice, please? When you make this offer to another woman, it might be a good idea to share the meaning of it all straight away."

"Real_Name, the best to you."


Are you all still there? Well, she sent another message, outlining what would be expected of me. I did not read that until after my reply above.

"And that .../…"

written about 18 hours ago:
".../... our mum was looking for some great women to demonstrate hand blown dildo's (real Icicles only) from Pipedream between Christmas and New Year's Eve."

"They really do not work on Christmas and New Year's Eve in German speaking countries!"

"So: an air plane ticket and a stay for 8 days, in exchange for topless service and two (with security personnel keeping an eye on things) masturbation shows is a truly generous payment, isn't it?"

"You didn't even need to be beautiful; spontaneity, guts, not "acted horny" and just showing everything off would have been enough!!"

"That a gang-bang was on the agenda as well, would have been handy for me and my if possible even hornier girlfriends (I am not present for everything)"
"At some point I would like to know in our group, what honey the other GF's have used to catch the bees..."

"Sucking the balls empty from a few guys while you can't get away: no big drama!"

"I will answer all remarks. Remember: my pictures were a bit old, so I will replace them by more recent ones!"



So from fuck to demonstrating dildo's, to topless serving, to masturbation, to gang-bangs, to sucking off while restrained. And I still did not jump at the chance, instead I blocked her.

And if you think that was the end, you have a surprise coming, because I got another message. Supposedly not from her, but very similar to her way of writing. Apparently she does not like being blocked.

"Esteemed Single Lady,"
"it is ==not== because our German_Girl, writes entire volume of truths,"
"that you therefore need to block her straight away."
"A "warning" states, that hooligans are not welcome in our hotel."
"Do we need to extend that urgently to the Dutch (including the emigrated ones) as well?"

I blocked stepdad as well, and reported the both to FetLife, for harassing me. And now I find she blocked me: that will teach me.

Still, what is going on here? What is the catch? And did they lure other women in?
Luke and Andrew are thinking about people trafficking, sex rings, that kind of thing. Andrew even thinks that if I were to accept the offer (as if!) I might not survive. I am thinking more about smuggling. And another friend thinks the woman just has the hots for me, but he is projecting.

But whatever it is, it is disconcerting.

Friday, 29 August 2014


You remember when I wrote about My Naked Truth? I had originally written it for FetLife, before deciding to post it here as well.
People liked that post, one person in particular not only commented on it, but also messaged me privately. We started chatting for a bit and became friends. Not just FetLife friends, but real friends. There was an instant connection. It happens, not as often as we'd like, very rarely, but so much the sweeter when it does. Feeling that affection, that closeness, when it is all effortless, sharing jokes, talking about emotions freely, flirting, feeling the love, the kindness, the warmth.
Every morning, after starting up my computer, checking his feed, seeing what he has been reading while I was asleep, following his breadcrumb trail to the writing of others. Such a delight. Reading what he has read, liking what he likes, befriending his friends. And then messaging with him, back and forth, for hours on end, until it is his bedtime. The web is an awesome place to connect with people, but different time zones suck. By the time it is late at night in New Orleans, it is not even the end of the afternoon here. But we always have tomorrow.

Saturday night I had my play party where I was suspended. Mm, rope. Sunday morning Tom was ready to hear all about it. While I was describing my experience, he urged me to write it down and to share it with others. "Wow, you described it so well you ought to cut and paste that into a journal piece about that experience." I had already been thinking about that and his enthusiasm made sure I followed through. I shared that with you as well: Floating Peacefully. He could not that day give my story all the attention he thought it deserved, because he was talking with another friend of his who needed his support at the moment. We did chat some more, about everything and anything, and he went to bed.
Monday, Tuesday, I messaged him, no answer. Well, that happens, life gets in the way of chatting with our friends. No big deal. Disappointing, but no big deal.
On Wednesday I got a message from someone I did not know: Subject "Good evening", message "My name is ******, I'm a friend of Tom's (********). I have sent him several messages over the past couple days and he had not responded. I just called his cell to check on him and his neighbor answered. With great sadness, I'm sorry but our Tom has passed away. They think he may have had a heart attack."

I started crying and I have not stopped yet. It has been 2 days, I had only known Tom for 2 weeks when he died, and I can not stop crying. I cry big heavy sobs, tears running down my face, I stop, blow my nose, have some water, keep myself busy, and start to cry again, and again, and again.

I felt sucker punched, kicked in the gut. It hurts so much. I am raw, as if I have been skinned alive. This man, this wonderful, vibrant, loving, caring, sharing, sexy, funny, kind man, so full of life, had died? He is no longer here? I refuse to believe it and I will not. He is not dead. No one really dies until they have been forgotten and I still remember him. The friends I made through him still remember him. We write about him and share our writing. We talk together, cry together, remember him, reminisce, laugh, share, care. We are his legacy.
He has touched our lives, our hearts, our souls. Us meeting him has enriched us. His leaving us hurts, but it is better than to never have known him. He made this world brighter for having stopped there, he has made this world better through his love and care.

Even know he is bringing people closer together, even now he is forging bonds that would never have been forged had he not been here.

I love you Tom, I will always love you, do not ever leave me.

Monday, 25 August 2014

Floating peacefully

Have you ever tried suspension? No? You have never been strung up?
I hadn't, not ever. I'd seen the pictures, of course, looked at them, feeling envious, studied them, the total relaxation of the models, the peace.
Oh, how I wanted that.

So when at the last munch someone offered to suspend me at the next play party, I accepted, or rather, I jumped at the chance. And that play party was last Saturday.

Do you want to know what happened? Whether you want to or not, I'm going to tell you.

I had seen pictures of his riggings before, I knew him, and I trusted him.

Since I had no experience at all with suspension, I put myself completely in his hands. And I was right to do so.

It was so awesome! Better than I could have imagined.

He started by laying the equipment out, checking every piece of rope, while I took off my skirt and top, and touched the rope myself, feeling it, looking at it, smelling it, anticipating.

Then he offered me a lollipop and started on my legs, wrapping the rope around me.

From the first touch of the rope on my skin, the feeling was so sensual I just started to melt (and moan). The tightening, the knotting, finally the suspension, everything slow, deliberate, making me feel safe every step of the way. He explained to me what he would do beforehand, and then got on with it, not talking overly much, just checking every once in a while I was fine, everything was good.

First one leg was lifted, and secured, then the other one, and I was suspended! Tightening here, lifting there, adjusting, until I was horizontal, on my back, floating, drifting.

When I was fully suspended he offered me a blindfold, which I accepted, shutting out the world even further, so it was only him, me and the rig. No dungeon, no spectators, no other play around us.

My hands were now tied behind my back, I was helpless, vulnerable, safe, cared for, free, floating peacefully.

And that was when he got his flogger out, he was sure I wouldn't mind. And indeed I did not. He used it to caress me: belly, upper body, arms. This added to the sensations I was already experiencing, but soon it was not enough, I got more and more excited, I opened my legs, and I started to crave pain. At last I used my words and told him he was allowed to be more forceful, and then he gave me some nice, but still gentle, pain.

It ended in no time at all, after an eternity, when 40 minutes had ticked by. I was lowered, one leg at a time, seeking his support because I found it hard to stand again. He held and steadied me, then untied the ropes from my torso, had me kneel before him, still blindfolded, while the knots became undone, the rope untangled, once again sliding over my skin. Untying me took about as long as getting me up there.

It was one of the best experiences ever, and I now get the relaxation you see on suspension pictures. The feeling is unique and awesome.

I have thanked my rigger in person, of course, and again next morning through a message, because he totally deserves it.
Thank you again, for making this such a wonderful experience for me, thank you for your attention, your patience, your skill, and the lollipop.

I always thought I liked rope, I was wrong: I LOVE IT!

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

My 'Naked' Truth

This is a little something I wrote on FetLife.

I've been reading. Yes, that happens, but what I want to write about is this: My 'Naked' Truth. It's about a mature woman who gets turned down by a potential lover because she's "too wrinkly". And why do I want to write about this? Because it resonated with me.

I've been unsure about my appearance for as long as I can remember. Growing up, I can't remember a moment I felt beautiful, ever. Until I met my love, who showed me how beautiful I was to him. All was well with me and the world, and I basked in his love.

Unfortunately, we don't live in fairy tales and our Happily Ever After, wasn't. And here is where that article comes in.
I truly believed that whenever I'd start dating, seeing other men, they would react like that Dave. I was convinced they'd judge me as being too old, too flabby, too wrinkly, too plain. I anticipated looks of disappointment and downright disgust. I never saw anything of the kind. Now, granted, I haven't started dating yet, but I have played, I've been undressed with men, they have seen me, and I saw them looking at me. I saw no disappointment, no disgust. What I did see was excitement, pleasure, looks of concentration, amusement at my reactions, people having fun. And that when my play partners all have been younger than me.
It definitely helps me feeling good about myself, and slightly silly about my apprehensions.

So tell me, how come it’s all been so nice for me?

Is it that kinksters care less about appearances than vanilla’s? Do they look for/at different things? Have I just been very lucky? Is that Dave the exception and are most men nicer than he is? Am I more attractive than I give myself credit for? OK, if you never met me, you don’t have to try to answer that last question.

I do feel better about the prospect of dating ever again though. Thank you gentlemen (you know who you are).

Crime and Punishment

No, nothing to do with the legal system, but I was in trouble.
Remember my post about Andrew and orgasm control? That is hot! Listening to him on the phone, me begging him for release, him telling me to cum for him, my body reacting to his voice: that is great, I love it. But then there's also the orgasm denial, where he will tell me I'm not allowed to cum and where no amount of begging or pleading will make him change his mind. I do not love that part, I can tell you.

But of course orgasm denial was part of the deal as well. And not only was I not allowed to cum, we also chatted about that daily, with me pleading and Andrew making me tell him how hard it was for me and what I felt. He also told me that I would be punished, if I dared cum without permission. Yes, he was setting me up for failure, I knew that at the time. He is seeing how far he can push me and what I am prepared to take from him. But I was coping: not happy, but coping.

This had been going on for what, a week? And then, one day, I was chatting with Luke and told him. Of course he was amused, he would be! And to "help" me, he pointed me to some porn he thought I'd like. Mind you, I was already thoroughly frustrated by this time, I didn't dare touch myself because that would surely set me off, and Luke made sure I got worked up even more. But when I went to bed I was still in control.

That night I woke up because I was orgasming. Yep, you read that right, I woke up because I was cumming. You know, there was that very vivid dream, I came, and I woke up. And when I did wake up, was I touching myself? Was I masturbating? No, not at all. I had been behaving so beautifully, and all for nothing. If only I hadn't woken up, but I had.

In the morning I texted Andrew, confessing what had happened. He told me to contact Luke, to ask him to punish me. Yes, that's right, he had me ask for it. And I did.

It took some time to get it sorted, since Luke was quite busy. In fact, it was several weeks before I was punished. As you can imagine, my nerves were playing up. Even though Luke had said it would be funishment, not punishment, because my offence was unintentional, it would be painful. The only difference would be in the mindset. And of course, Luke is into giving pain.

Painful it was, terrible, glorious, awesome, awful, wonderful. There was more pain than I ever thought I could deal with, but I took it, all of it. I never soared higher than after that session, and my high lasted for days. During the session I wasn't thinking of Luke, but of Andrew, and the pictures I posted of my markings were for Andrew, not for Luke or me.

At some point Luke called Andrew my Dom, and I wanted to say: "No, he is not my Dom," but I couldn't get those words out, because I suddenly realised that, yes, he is my Dom now. That is how I call him, and I call myself his sub. Just like that.