Bleed Me.

I seem to have a bit of a thing for nature at the moment. Outdoor fucking in the rain, being drowned in waterfalls, mud wrestling, rope bondage in flower meadows. I find the natural world incredibly empowering, and I think that it makes the perfect juxtaposition to my rapidly developing submissive self. I also love the 'back to basics' feeling that being outdoors gives me - It makes me very carnal and incredibly highly sexed. The simplicity of it helps me to let go, because I have nothing to worry about. Unlike the man - made world, nature doesn't judge. I don't feel separate from it. I can immerse myself in it, give into my senses and not think; I can just be. And my being me, stripped down to my gut feelings, totally lacking inhibitions and overwhelmingly empowered by being able to feel such, I am able to let go of myself completely. The writing that follows relates to these feelings. I am not going to call it a fantasy (although it is, as yet, completely fictitious) because the concept is far more special to me than wank fodder. It is deeply personal, and I apologise to anyone who should happen to read it in advance for ruining the wank fodder by loading it with my emotions!

As my clothes are stripped from me, I agree that I will surrender control of myself until the point at which they are returned to me. With this, I am washed and redressed, prevented from taking any active role in my preparation for the evening. I am put into a beautiful long white dress, floaty and lacey, that makes me feel elegant, powerful and at one with the world - like a Grecian goddess. A complete juxtaposition to what I believe may be about to happen to me. I remain barefoot, but a white silk blindfold is carefully placed across my eyes. I am then led outside by the hand.


It is a warm night, and the rain doesn't feel too cold against my face. In fact, it is the kind of warm rain that makes me feel powerful, full of awe for the natural world. I can see the bright shine of the moon through the blindfold, but am unable to make out much of where I am with my eyes. I can, however, piece together most of the setting. Beneath my feet, I feel long, wet grass. I can hear the gushing of a waterfall nearby. I can smell the way that the air is loaded with the power of an oncoming storm.
Suddenly, we stop walking. An instruction is whispered gently into my ear: 'Lean backwards, I'll support you'. I am lowered down so that I am lying against a cold, wet rock. It is surprisingly comfortable. My arms are lifted above my head and fixed in place with some cold metal manicles that are attached to the rock. My feet are fixed likewise, and I find that my body is stretched over the rock in such a way that I cannot move. The blindfold is removed, and the rain hits my eyes. The water on my face accentuates the inner feeling of power that is growing within me.
As my eyes adjust to the dark, I can make out the shapes of a circle of stunningly beautiful people surrounding me, dressed up in fantastical outfits. Although I recognise their faces and the sound of their laughter, I feel distant from them, empowered by something beyond their attention. Standing over me, she is absolutely stunning. Although the glint in her eyes expresses her absolute power, the grin that spreads across her face reveals her hidden loving side. And with that, I break into a grin too. Slowly, gently, she leans into my body and starts stroking it, never breaking eye contact with me. I shiver every time she makes contact with my skin.


When she knows that I was really sensitive to her touch, she pulls out a beautifully crafted flogger, made of heavy purple suede with a carved wooden handle. The wetness of my skin adds a slight sting to the thud of the first impact, and I instantly relax into the pain. She mixes a rhythmic beating with gentle strokes from her fingers, maintaining eye contact, watching as I slowly get high from the sensations. When she is satisfied that I have reached a state of deep euphoria, she steps back and deftly unmanicles my hands and feet. I do not move them, but stare, transfixed, as she pulls out a scalpel. I know what is coming, but, for once, I have no idea how it will feel. She strokes my hair, and then sets to work. I lay back, exposing my face and neck to the rain, relaxing and enjoying the sensation of the warm blood running down my leg and staining my dress. As my blood mixes with the rain, she licks a small bit of it and, with the metallic taste still on her tongue, deeply kisses me.
The people surrounding me are now closer, naked, and having sex on the floor around me. I am high and my head is floating as my girl spreads my legs and fucks me. She has my blood, and now she needs to claim my cum. She fucks me harder and harder, pushing me deeper and deeper into my floaty state. As I cum, she wraps her hand around my throat and whispers one word in my ear: 'Mine'. I am still drifting in my post orgasmic state as she lifts me down from the rock and, together, we entwine ourselves into the ongoing orgy.

Developing 'Little One'

A while ago, I posted this blog about the development of my inner 'little girl'. At that time, I was really just starting to discover how this would work for me, and since then my 'little one' has developed much further. All of the 'little girl' characteristics that are surpressed within my adult personality have been fused into the behaviours of 'little one', creating an alter-ego that I naturally slip into and out of.

I am still not quite settled on how old 'little one' is yet, but she is somewhere between 7 and 9. However, she is incredibly intelligent for her age, and therefore can be a bit of a smartarse. She likes to think that she is very grown up, and would never ever tell any of her friends that she still likes to curl up on her Mummy's lap with her dummy and teddy bear and drift off to sleep. She is a bit of a tomboy, and is incredibly impulsive; she desperately needs to learn to think through the consequences of her actions because she often gets herself into trouble. She HATES pink frilly things with a passion because they make her feel like a 2 year old, and she doesn't like it when people point out that she isn't really independent but reliant on her Mummy to choose her dresses for her. The only thing that 'little one' is really missing at the moment is a name, but that will come with time and as she develops further.

Until recently, I hadn't really spent any extended period of time in my 'little one' headspace (I use the word 'headspace' rather than 'role' because it is occurs far more naturally than  roleplay). I tended to dip in and out of it, sometimes more often than others. However, last weekend I spent far more time being little than being big. Being around two people to whom I was submitting made this very easy, and they helped to create the right atmosphere to allow me to do this in lots of very subtle ways. Quite often, I was talked over as plans were being made. They would talk to each other about me while I was still in the room, but not acknowledge that I was there. They would adopt a patronising tone of voice when talking to me occasionally. My response to this was to go very deeply into 'little one' mode, entertaining myself while the grown-ups were having boring conversations and getting stroppy when I didn't get my own way. Strangely, being 'little' also helps me to be submissive, and it meant that all of the play that happened was far more intense and fulfilling. When I was flogged, I was reduced to happy tears fairly quickly because I didn't feel the need to put up any physical or mental resistance to what was happening to me. I have said before that reaching this point where I don't want to resist is an incredibly special and powerful feeling, and it is something that I would like to happen far more often in my play. Both with and without the help of Little One. 

A Surprise

For a while now I have fantasised about being sexually used by a stranger, helpless to prevent it from happening. For some reason, I find the idea of being degraded in such a way and left in a useless wreck REALLY hot. Last weekend, my rape fantasy finally became a reality.

The rape was incredibly well set up, and I had absolutely no idea that it was coming. Lilith had taken me up to Manchester, and I was expecting to spend a dirty weekend with her and one of her friends whom I had not met before. On the first night we went out for a lovely meal, and, as I understood it, were going to head back to the hotel where her friend would meet us an hour or so later. Even as we opened the door to the hotel room, Lilith held conversation, giving away no clues that she knew that her friend was hidden behind the door, dressed in black, masked and gloved, and ready to grab hold of us both from behind as we stepped into the room. It was very sudden - I remember hearing her scream and then feeling her lying next to me as my face was pressed into the floor by the strange man. I can't remember the exact details of what happened next. I struggled a lot as the man tied my wrists behind my back and forced a hood over my head. 

I was totally disorientated when he held the knife to my throat, and it came as a bit of a shock. he leant right into me, and calmly asked 'Is there anyone else here apart from you two?'

'No.'

'Is your boyfriend here?'

'No.'

'Where is her boyfriend?'

'Not here.'

'Is he coming later?

'No.'

Seemingly satisfied, he pulled the knife away from my throat and started to move towards Lilith. I took the opportunity to try to get out of the wrist tie, but he was instantly right back in my face. 'There is an easy way or a hard way. You do as I say, or your friend gets hurt and then you do as I say.' To prove the point, he slapped her around the head. I heard her hit the floor, and then his footsteps slowly coming towards me. I didn't realise that he was close enough to grab my hair, so it came as a shock when he pulled my neck upwards and dragged me over to look at her, passed out on the floor, her hair lying in her own vomit. 

'You think I'm not serious about this? You see that? I. Don't. Care. She doesn't matter.' Then he pushed me backwards, and pulled out the knife. He held it inside my open mouth. 

'You know what an Italian Smile is?' I nodded. 'You answer wrong, and she gets one. Easy way or hard way?'

I had to give in really. 'Easy'. 

'Good.' He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me into the bedroom, burning my elbow and knee on the carpet as he went. 'Now stay there while I make sure she hasn't already choked on her own sick, and I'll ask her the same thing.' 

I heard his footsteps heading back towards her, and I faintly heard him talking quietly in her ear, but I couldn't make out what was said. Instead of waiting to find out I tried to manouvre myself into the bathroom, which I knew that I could lock myself into. I could have managed it, but I knew that, really, I didn't want to. So I waited, hidden behind the bathroom door. 

When he came in, he was dragging Lilith across the floor by her hair and she had a pained expression on her face. He threw her to the floor, and dragged me back into the room. He held the knife to the back of her calf; 'You try that again and I slice through all of her tendons. Got it?'

'Yes. Sorry.'

He went over to Lilith again. 'Where is your money?' She pointed to her handbag, and he emptied the contents across the floor, hitting her over the head in the process. Then he came back across to me, took his knife out, cut my clothes off and forced me over the end of the bed. 

'Right. Now you have a choice. Either you are good and take this, or you end up knocked out on the floor like your friend over there.'

So I lay still, listening to him take off his trousers behind me. He didn't take any time, he just thrust his (extremely large) cock inside me. HARD. And fast. His hand forcing my face into the pillow. And it felt AMAZING. 

When he was done, he made sure that my hands were secure behind my back, picked up a laptop and a purse and left. When he returned, he was unmasked and both he and Lilith were wearing huge grins. 

I had absolutely no idea that this was going to happen at all. However, as soon as I saw the masked stranger and heard Lilith's scream, I had worked out with about 90% confidence that it wasn't real (although the accidental vomit was a nice touch). And, as much as I enjoyed the initial fear, the knowledge that I was safe allowed me to relax into the experience. I would like to repeat this experience, trying to find a way to make me question my confidence just very slightly. Unfortunately, I have come very close to being raped for real in the past, and I therefore do know how I react in such a situation; with very cold, calm, emotionless logic. There were several times during this experience when my brain had come up with an escape plan (for example, heading for the bathroom), and I think that it would be difficult to get any other reaction out of me. But the beauty of that is that I knowingly and willingly surrendered to my rape. And I loved every minute of it.

Remedies to Shitty Times

As my last post may have implied, I have been rather down lately. However, I have been incredibly lucky to have been looked after by a very supportive group of friends, both kinky and vanilla. I have realised just how special some of these friends are to me, and how much of a support network I have in them. I think that, like kinky relationships, kinky friendships often gather momentum much more quickly than vanilla ones. One has to build up trust very quickly in a kinky friendship. I have known most of my kinky friends for less than a year, but, through watching them play and having them around as I play, I know how difficult it is for them to really hurt someone, how perceptive they can be of the feelings of other people and how ready they are to step in if they see something go wrong for someone. It seems that the open-minded mentality of the kink scene breeds loyalty within friends - I know that I don't have to worry about being judged. YKIOK (Your Kink Is OK) is a mentality that extends much deeper into such friendships, and I don't feel that I have to hide parts of myself that other people may not understand for fear of them not being accepted. I am incedibly lucky to have such people around, and I am extremely grateful for their support over the past few weeks. 

All of this support, combined with a rather large number of distractions and moments of escapism, have allowed me to relax a bit after the initial storm has blown over. Because of this, the past week has been the most fantastic of my kinky life to date and I have been spoilt rotten with surprises and pervery. I would like to write a very long account of all of it, but I suspect that that would be rather dull to read, so I am going to write several different blogposts about individual topics over the next few days...