Self-Imposed Chastity

A couple of weeks ago I imposed chastity of sorts on myself. In the past, when a relationship has failed or I needed relief from my mind, I ran back to K for play. She is a vanilla Domme. We dated for two years. It has been a mutual FWB agreement for many years. She breaks up with someone, she comes to me. I break up with someone, I go to her. See the pattern?

I am an extremely passionate and sexual person. One of my habits is taking ALL THE FEELS and ALL THE THOUGHTS and shutting my mind down through play. I wrote an erotica writing once along these lines I titled “Hurt Me Please” (it’s not on this blog) in which I begged her for impact play just to shut my mind down. (Also because it’s hot!). The issue is nothing is accomplished when I do this. And not only am I not growing when I do that, but it’s not fair to K. So when she offered a few weeks back, I declined explaining how I felt and terminating the FWB officially.

Since then I haven’t even allowed myself to masturbate. (which you people don’t make easy! *squirms*). Let me be clear that despite that my mind always seems scattered and messy thoughts come out in my writing, I am very happy.  Extremely sexually frustrated yes. Happy though. I am in a very good place in my life. I took a long time away and fixed me because I wasn’t happy with myself. But as you can see from my post on dealing with shame about my kinks here that I still have a few things I am working out.

I don’t know how long this is going to take. (I REALLY HOPE IT GOES QUICKLY! I COULD REALLY USE AN ORGASM!!!). However, until I work through these things and feel comfortable with myself I will not allow myself to cum through any means. Maybe it seems silly. I don’t know. But it has been helping me to clear my mind and become more focused.

You Like That, Don’t You?-An Internal Struggle

“You like that, don’t you?”

Those few simple, harmless words are a sharp excruciating blow to the chest. They tear at my skin. I fight and cower helplessly; screaming and crying in agony curled into a corner of my mind. I shut down. Avoid the question. Pretend I didn’t hear it; become paralyzed by the embarrassment, fear, and shame behind it.

“…I could tell that you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders” –Will and Grace

I am tired. I am completely exhausted. I have locked myself up, hidden so deep inside a cold dark pit that I don’t know how to escape. I want too. I need too. I stretch my arm up, grasp hold of the edge, dig my nails in the cracks until my fingers are bleeding, pull with all my strength, and slip back down into the abyss. I am trapped in the depths of my mind. And I don’t want to be here anymore!

Influential Factors 

There are some influential factors that contribute to my struggle. I have dealt with and overcome each of the factors. However, as strong as I am, they will always be a part of me.

  • I am a rape survivor. I don’t think I have ever put that out on the internet before now. I have told only a few close friends. My stepfather was a violent and twisted alcoholic fuck. I lived in fear and shame, terrorized, every day for five years of my childhood by him. I refused to let it break me. I broke free. I rebuilt myself. Notice I said I am a rape survivor, not that I am a rape victim.
  • Sex is nasty. It is a means to reproduce and is only shared between a husband and wife. You never talked about sex. That is the foundation of ideals I was raised. The little knowledge I had of sex for a very long time was a one hour class in high school on preventing pregnancy. (though I found it hilarious to slingshot a condom across the room which resulted in detention)
  • I was raised in a racist, sexist, closed-minded town by a family that held the same beliefs as the town. There were zero African American people in the town at the time, literally. When I first came out as a lesbian, I found my vehicle vandalized. Being different in any way was simply forbidden.

This conflict has negatively impacted my relationships. Fighting it is no longer an option anymore. I am going to push my boundaries like never before. At first, it may be things so minuscule you may not notice. Other times, you will see me shove myself over the edge screaming. If you want to follow my journey, please do. Give shout outs of encouragement, scolding for holding back, or whatever works for you. But in the end this is my battle. I am determined to come out on the other side.

Bleeding Out-A Shattered Dynamic 2

Recently, I wrote about the ending of my D/s relationship. If you missed out you can find it here.

“It is not only what we do, but also what we do not do, for which we are accountable.” ― Molière

I never lie. But I did lie to her. An omission is a lie. I deliberately allowed her to assume I did what she asked. I was, and remain to be today, ashamed. I hold myself accountable. It doesn’t change the hurt for either of us. I learned from it. I can say with certainty it will never happen again.

The relationship was already cracked. Both of us weary from trying to repair it. I was her first submissive. She was my first Dominant. We both ran at the relationship full-steam, stumbling over ourselves. We tried relationship check-ins but life often got in the way. Communication broke down. She wavered on decisions and I grew lost. We found incompatibilities we hadn’t discovered.

It ended like any relationship ends; hurt and anger spilling out everywhere. We severed all ties; though, I heard she asked a mutual friend how I was doing once. I found that odd since I hurt her. I have grown from the experiences I was blessed to have, both the goodness before the fall-out and learning from the fall-out. I believe it’s important to always grow from every experience in life.


The Thanksgiving Feast

He laid bare and splayed open. She stared down at his naked rawness with a smile on her face. She grabbed the hot oils that sat beside her and slowly drizzled it across his bare chest. His skin glowed in the light making him even more beautiful in her eyes.
Slowly her long slender fingers began their decent across the muscles in his body. Her fingers wrapped tightly around his neck, squeezing, before kneading deeply into the firmness of his arms and found their way back to his chest.

“I am going to devour every inch of you,” she said through gritted teeth.

Quickly and with great force she jerked his legs apart. He laid open. She could see all of him in all of his beautiful firm glory. She abruptly and viciously thrust her fingers deep inside his tiny hole. Once. Twice. Three times. Each time she violated his hole deeper and harder.

The muscles in her arms grew taught and sweat glistened her body.  She panted from exhaustion. She stood up, straightened the wrinkles of her dress, and sauntered over to the table nearby. Grabbing her glass of wine to quench her thirst, she walked back and stood dare at him.


She placed him in the oven at 300 degrees and went to relax.

*giggles* Have a great holiday everyone.

Bleeding Out-A Shattered Dynamic


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“Did you really not do it?”

Before she had even spoken I seen the look. I froze in place; my head lowered. I couldn’t look at her. Not now. The air grew thick. Time stood still. My heart ached and I couldn’t breathe. The tears flowed down my cheeks. My mouth went as dry as the desert sand.

“I…I…” I couldn’t get the words to come out. All I could see in my mind is that look on her face. I sobbed harder, unable to regain control of myself. She was hurt. Even worse, she was disappointed. What was already cracked, I had now shattered into a million pieces and there was no putting it back together. I had broken her trust. I broke us.

Hurt mixed with anger. “Answer me dammit! Did you not do it? You lied to me!”

“I…I…I’m sorry”. It’s all I could say. There was nothing else to be said. No words could have fixed it.

My heart was being ripped from my chest. I gasped. I’m bleeding. I’m bleeding out. My face pales. Every inch of my being hurt. Even my skin felt as though a thousand sharp needles were piercing it over and over again. I tried to breathe, only to choke on my shame. I felt every inch of my body and mind screaming in agony.

The slamming of the door as she left was my final undoing. I crumbled onto the bed in a fetal position and sobbed until the darkness drifted in. My last thought before succumbing to exhaustion “I did this. I deserve it”.

To be continued…