Another night goes by, and he
stumbles into my house at 2am the next night, drunk, stoned, and high. I keep
trying to get out of him what he’s doing as far as drug use, and he won’t tell
me. He’s seriously fucked up, stumbling, slurring his speech, but I get him
settled and cuddling in my bed.
I’m feeling stupid for having
trusted a stranger. The truth is I don’t know who he is, what he’s really about
or any details of his past. I don’t know with whom he’s been with, or any
patterns of his personality, I was just enjoying him in the moment.
“Did you notice anything
strange in my apartment? Any women’s necklaces or toiletries?”
My heart sinks. I really
didn’t notice anything strange...I was so hypnotized by his allure, so high off
of his nectar that my eyes had gone completely blind!
I’m not really sure how to
react. I probably wouldn’t be so pissed if we didn’t just have a week of
unprotected sex, and now that I know he has another partner I am upset with
myself for having let him in so fast without really knowing anything about him,
or even asking.
But this news hit me like a
freight train on the side of my face; I totally didn’t see it coming!
“Are you mad?”
I’m still not really sure how
to respond or where to go from here, because once again, I am falling in love
with someone who isn’t available, or particularly honest or integral for that
matter. I don’t kick him out, I don’t scream or yell, I sink deeper into him,
and really my attraction for him overrides any reason whatsoever.
He asks me if he should
leave, if he should just disappear forever, and I don’t really see that as a
solution to our growing connection either. I hold him closer, tell him stories
about the existence of the universe, about the everlasting wave of vibratory
expanse that we are riding on, and he drifts off to sweet slumber, I listen as
his breathing steadies into that of a small toddler. I drift away myself.
We awake in late morning, my
room filled with iridescent golden light shining through my Beachwood canyon
windows, beckoning us to rise to meet the day. Then I remember what he said the
night before and my heart sinks again, pulling me all the way to the bottom of
the ocean, where I settle in the sand of shame and despair that he is involved
with another woman.
He wakes up, he keeps peering
into my eyes, closer and closer he comes into me, letting me know on some level
he’s here for me, and doesn’t want to loose our connection to this minor
detail. Hmmm. Still not sure how I should feel about this, but I do know my
desire for him is stronger than ever. I start touching him, his cock, his body,
and he starts to become aroused.
He puts on a rubber this
time, and our desperate hearts call for the desperate measure of being with one
another one more time. I turn over and demand to be spanks and he does so until
my whole ass is red. He slips his long fingers inside me, as his sensitive
fingertips find the juiciest part of my strawberry and produce the most refined
nectar inside of me. I come so hard I
scream for what seems like a full minute. There’s something about our
chemistry, something otherworldly about our chemistry that fills me with so
much invisible light, so much charge that I feel like I’m high on DMT for a
good while. Infused with invisible consciousness, which heals every part of my
body, makes me feel entirely whole again, repairs all damage to my tissues. I
feel complete.
So am I supposed to give up
this pleasure now? Do I want to be the OTHER GIRL again? Play the role of fun
mistress, who he wines and dines and romances while his girlfriend at home gets
no love from him? I just don’t think it’s fair to me, to her, to him, to
anyone. She’s in New York now, and I don’t know when she returns, but when she
does I know it can’t be like this anymore.
Another day goes by. He says
a little hello text in the morning. I tell him “You’re practically married! Of
Seven YEARS!”
He ploys with me “Don’t make
me crash this car right now.”
It obviously affects him that
I am so torn about this whole thing. He doesn’t want to loose me.
He calls me at 9pm that night
and arranges to take me to dinner and discuss. He is so distressed when I get
tin the car, I’ve never seen him look so ripped apart; it honestly looks like
he’s been crying.
He pretty much gives me a WTF
look, like do you want me to just disappear? I don’t. I want him to stay and
love me and elevate me to my highest blissful most surrendered state. I want
him to watch me grow and evolve into the incredible woman that I am becoming. I
want to help him achieve health, excellence and a successful career. I want to
weave my soul with is.
I keep this to myself, and
say “Is this what you want? Do you just want me to go away? Because I’m not
pushing you away. I’m right here. I’ll stay until you tell me to go.”
He blabs on about drama, his
past, and his past with her…. I’m not even sure what he’s talking about
sometimes because his accent is so heavy.
I cut through his gibberish and just request a simple answer.
“What do you want? What do
you want with me, what do you want with her?”
He’s a little shocked at my straightforward
nature but he answers truthfully. He wants to travel down the exploratory river
with me, to see how it flows and go with it. No heavy vows or commitments, or
strings tied to our wrists. We get to just exist with one another.
And what does he want with
her (I don’t ever know the name of the girlfriend of course). Well he wants to
end it.
So I let him know that in
reality, it’s actually really easy to end an already-dead relationship. You say
the magic little words, “This just isn’t working anymore.”
He looks at me, a little
stunned, because he knows I’m right, but I know he’s too scared to say those
words to her. He’d drag it on for two more years if he could, and just have his
little flings along the side to keep him happy for the time being. People hold
onto unhealthy relationships for all kinds of reasons. I choose to not go into
their dynamic too much because it’s really none of my business, but I do tell
him it is just that easy. You break up. You say, “I love you but I don’t want
to be with you anymore.” Done.
So we’ll see what he decides
to do, because I know it will drive me crazy being the “Other Girl” again for
any extended period of time. I’m just now that person.
And I don’t like dating dishonest men either.
July 1st 2012
It’s done. I said it. I told
him my boundaries; that I do not wish to be present for his drama; I am only a
soul that wishes to frolic and smell the roses with him, that I am not
available for his shit.
She comes home in 12 days
from New York, and I leave in 7 to go the very same city she is coming from.
What a fucking story. I know it’s going to be shitty from the moment she lands,
and he will hate almost every moment with her. I still don’t believe that he’ll
break up with her, but I guess I’m giving him that opportunity. If he really
cares about me, and he’s really done with her, he will. If I don’t mean that
much to him, he’ll stay a while longer because that’s what is comfortable.
All in the same month he gets
approved for his Green Card, or gets deported back to his home country, in
Eastern Europe, back to a life that cannot possibly fill his potential. He is
filled by this City of Angels, for Hollywood fascinates this upcoming director
of film, feeds his soul and gives him constantly visual stimulation. He could not bare to return back to his home
country. His heart would crumble into a million pieces, and I’m not sure if
anyone would be able to pick them up.
All the while his deals are
pending for his major feature film to be funded and produced, or not. I’m sure
millions have already been spent; investors are counting on their money to be
returned, as his bag log of unpaid workers is building up. Pressure is on this
one, and somehow I know that he will not cave under pressure. I know he can
push up the entire world with his will before physical matter smashed him. The
only thing that could destroy him is his own mind.
What I would give to get
inside that man’s head…how is thoughts race around like racetracks, and cars
crash into one another, causes a huge explosion, and the only reaction I see
from the outside is a little smile develop from the corners of his mouth.
So I learn all of this as we
are saying our goodbyes in the sunny LA corridor. Then he peers into my eyes,
for a good while. After saying our love isn’t real, that we don’t really love
each other, and his flirtation is winning on me. He goes back to his charismatic
ways, flashing his wrists, and using these facial gestures and postures to win
be back over…. it works for a while and I am charmed to being an inch away from
his body. And then I see it. Those cheaters where I see through the smoke and
mirrors and realize how much of this is all a mirage.
I walk away, smiling, happy,
and leaving him wanting more.
July 11th, New York
City, 3pm
Well being separated from a
cosmic magnetic force of love doesn’t really last very long, no matter how hard
you try. Love is a one-way avenue, a train car headed at 1000’s of miles an hour
and there is nothing you can do to stop the velocity and weight of the force
moving behind you.
The next Tuesday he texts me
at 8:30 in the morning, inviting me to the beach;
“You want to go to
Huntington?”
“Yes” I replied after a
torturous day being locked up in my Venice studio, out of the gorgeous sunshine
and sand. I was depressed that Monday because I was not with him, and because
my body really needed a day of sunshine and rest.
“I’ll pick you up in one
hour,” he replies.
I run my morning errands,
have my morning coffee, and get ready for
a day at the beach. I’m excited, but the tide of my body is very low,
the red liquid of my menstral cycle pulling me closer to the earth, making me
move slowly.
He picks me up in his large
black SUV, and I’m not sure how to be with him; affectionate and sweet, angry
and bitchy, or just be his friend since I can’t continue to be his lover. But
my entire body is pulsating with desire for him, and I can’t help but want to
jump on top of him. I settle for a nuzzle on the cheek instead. He comments on
my sign of affection, but his attidute is wired and cocky this morning, and
does not sink into the sweetness that I need at the moment. I’m really tender.
We drive an hour south to
where the waves are best in Orange County, a place I rarely frequent, and the
sky is overcast, a hazy hot grey fog. I get out of the car and my heart is
confused as to why I am here; I ask him.
“Why do you want me here?”
He is upset and confused,
because he thinks he’s been attentive and sweet, but I have only had his rough
edges this morning.
“What kind of question is
that? You are here because I want you to be here. You are here because you want
to be here with me. It’s as simple as that.”
“Ok then just be sweet to me
then.” My sensitive heart ployed with his soul.
“Ok.”
He dresses quickly in his
surf gear, and races out to catch the waves. I lay for about 90 minutes, and he
returns drenched and happy form the waters and sits next to me for a moment…my
pussy is still throbbing with desire for him, we really haven’t made love for
days, and I miss him being inside of me. He races back in the water before I
can tell him of my desire for him. It’s as if I am the surf board, tied on a
leash to his ankle, and I can feel his every move, yearning for when and where
he will direct me. My pussy is tugged towards the ocean, yearning to reunite
with my lover’s full force. I will not be satiated or satisfied any time soon.
Back in Venice, he drops me
at my car, and we say good-bye.
“Are you going to the Bondage
Ball tonight?”
“Yes, are you?,” he replies
I was so tired, but angry and
upset, I could really use some creative outlet to work out this crazy energy I
have built up inside.
“I don’t really want to go if
I’m not going with you, but I suppose I can muster up the energy and meet you
there. I’m sure you have lots of ladies to go flirt with.”
Bondage Ball
I go home, and take another
hour long nap. Apparently going to the beach is hard work! It’s Independence
Day eve, and we are celebrating our freedom to be enslaved..hahahaha. I’m
linked to him like a ball is to a chain, so I really have no choice at this
point but to follow my drive, my instincts, and my heart.
I dress in tight black
leather detailed pants, heels, a lacey pink and black corset, a hat to match my
hair, and armed with a collar and black flogger that can really do some damage.
I’m ready to roll and ready to spank.
I arrive at the Belasco and
text him to let him know that his lady in waiting, this frisky and crazy
Domina, has arrived at the Ball. He is blissfully unaware of my plans to
capture him as my slave and spank him silly, that I am a hunter, and he my
prey.
He rushes to the fourier, and
I spot him. He turns and sees me but we have to fight through a crowd of people
to reach one another. I crowch down behind a large woman dressed in black, then
spring forward like a leopard attacking a gazelle, leaving no room for ecscape.
I aim for his neck, and he goes into a crazy panick and starts pulling my body
with him, but I do not let go. I almost have the leather collar on him, and we
are rudely interrupted. I get the evil
eye from a tall, confident, black haired and maybe even black-eyed bitch who is
warning me to not proceed any further. Since I am not a serious bitch, but
merely a playful one. I release the tension on the collar as My Sub of the
moment gives me a frightened look, like a child getting scorned by his mother.
I run away into the ball, and
find myself in a different situation. I spot them in the corner, him yelling at
her, and She, still giving me the evil eye to stay off this man. This man who
I’ve been spending almost every day with for the last month. I let it go, and
start spanking novices in the party.
Brion, a largely built,
confidant, and sexy circus performer spots me, and is pleasurably a-gasped to
see me in my corset, equipped with a flogger. He tells me to spank his friend,
Matt, who has never been spanked before. I think he is a fine subject and
proceed without making any calculation that Matt would put up a fight. Men
apparently don’t like to a surprise sabotage attack to the throat by strangers.
I rush forward, cover is neck
in the collar but before I can clasp it, he swoops me up my feet like a skilled
dancer, I’m flailing my appendages in the air, but I do not let go of his neck.
After a long struggle, I get it clasped, and he surrenders to my will.
My subject is wearing jeans,
so I know I can apply quite a bit of force with the flogger. I wind up and
smack his ass. The crowd is building around us, and so it the heat. This is
quite entertaining. I smack with even more force, eventually hitting him as
hard as I possibly can.
Then I release the built up
stress from his neck and give him a big hug and kiss on the cheek, rewarding
him for taking the pain so well.
He buys me a drink, the Dom
finds me, introduces me to his friend, and informs me that he is high on
mushrooms. I laugh and tease, and give
him a half of a valium to appease his senses. He profusely apologizes for the
crazy Bitch, of which I have already erased in my Geminin mind, like water under
the bridge. He can’t let it go.
“How dare she threatens you!
You are my Queen! My sister! I told her to Never threaten any of my brothers or
sisters ever again!” He is really worked up about it all!
He grabs me and doesn’t let
me out of his site for the rest of the party. Since we met, he has taken up
every check, picked me up on time for dates, taken me to the airport, and even
shown up at my doorstep unannounced to tell me something important. This man
has fallen deeply in love with his HaHa bunny, and he’s not letting her go.
We watch the hot fetish
models perform onstage, modeling different latex and leather corsets, showing
off the latest underground fetish style. We are in the crowd, I turn around,
the lights flashing around us, the room full of costumed kinky party goers, and
he screams at the top of his lungs “ I LOVE YOU. “
I bubble up inside, still
testing this man’s strength, his dedication to me, his truth, and I have no
choice but to scream at the top of my lungs,
“I HATE YOU!!” With so much
fury and wrath, but I only hate him so much because I love him with so much
passion that I hate what it’s doing to my tender body and soul. I’m completely
his and I have no choice in the matter. I was his from hello.
I take him back to my
friend’s mini play party in the hills. We walk in with my basket of retraints, floggers, whips, and toys. Dom’s
favorite is the collar he puts me in.
He is stil looped out from
the drugs I gave him, and he is reclining back on the couch, and strips down to
his pink underwear.
I proceed to flog him a bit
with my toys, massage him, crawl all over his relaxed body, and let him know
that I’m in charge now. There’s a hot model couple sitting next to us enjoying
the scene. “hi, what’s your name?”
“I’m Dom.”
“Oh Dom the submissive!” They
laugh at the paradox of the situation. He doesn’t care, he’s so enamored with
me, it doesn’t matter if he’s the top or the bottom, because he’s with me. He
stares into my eyes, and doesn’t separate contact, for I am his muse, his subject,
his fantasy, his healer, his fountain, his haha.
We move to the other orange
couch on the side of the room, and this time I want him to take over. I stand
up in my underwear, collard, he holds me up against gravity with the force of
his strong European hands and gives it to me really nice and hard with the
flogger. It’s my favorite black one,
with thin black leather strips that sting like a bee upon contact. He makes
sure to give it to me good, over and over again in the same spot, creating a
red mark. Air moves around my face as he swings the ropes swiftly, creating a terrifying
effect of when the flogger actually makes contact with my skin. He works me up
with his intent, making me excited and nervous at the same time.
“Bend over” He says in his Croatian
accent, creating a more submissive role for me to bend into.
I lean over the couch, aiming
my other ass cheak near his face, encouraging him to spank that one. A
submissive musn’t tell the Dom what to do, making such a request could result
in worse punishment, so I just hint with sublte body language that I want him
to get my other ass cheek.
He lays me down face up on
the couch. I can barely focus my eyes from the dose of E and G, creating an
effect in which I may just pass out, my eyes rolling back in my head. I just
watch with pleasure my lover hovering above me, watching me, loving me,
worshiping me.
We finish up on the couch,
making out with one another. I ride his cock, but both of us are a little too
high to keep interest at our genitals. Our attention turns to the love scene
across the way. There are 6 people, 3 men and 3 women making love with one
another. Half dressed in bondage Ball attire, the ladies with long blonde hair,
perfect C cup tits, and moaning Porn Star moans as they are being penetrated or
licked or fingered into pleasure.
“Do you want to go join
them?”
Dom encourages me to hop into
the scene, to be the 7th wheel so to speak.
I decline the offer, as I
like to just magically find myself in the middle of the scene, not enter from
side left like an unsuspected train from the Mid-West. I’m enjoying the woman’s
pleasure from afar.
We decide to pack up our toys
and head out and get some sleep, as the next day is Independence day, and we
would like to enjoy parts of it in the daytime. I have to crawl around the
couch and gather my rabbit fur mits from beneath a sweaty guy’s ass, and crawl
upon this hot surfer boy who must be a model, and find myself kissing hm good
bye. His long blond hair and innocent eyes and large raging cock draw me in
with some interest. We make out for a moment, but I pull away, knowing that at
this moment I value sleep more than an orgasm.
We return home, to my fairy
palace, he follows me with his black range rover, we take the corners up to my Beachwood
canyon place tight and fast, snaking our way back up to my own personal
wonderland.
We snuggle up in bed, and his
sleeping pill is kicking in fast. I start talking about the outer reaches of
the universe as he lulls into sleep, my words being the last thing he hears
before his consciousness takes him into Bunny dream land.
July 4th
We Awaken to what feels like
a new dawn in serenity, and I hop up and appease his belly by making breakfast
while he hops in the shower. I make a complete mess of the kitchen, chopping
herbs for the salad, preparing Quinoa, and boiling eggs. I haven’t cooked in a
while, and I’m not sure if what I make will be satisfactory to him. I’m so high
off of his love, that I feel like I might short-circuit out of this kitchen and
explode right out of this reality. There’s nothing better than finding someone
who uplifts your existence; your every cell, word, action, becomes a service to
them.
This is what I feel when I
hand him his morning tea and smoothie; that I want to ease his every pain,
remove every woe, every ounce of suffering in his being, to fill his soul with
unbounded joy and light. I guess this is just the king of lover I am, what
happens to me when I devote myself to someone that I truly adore and love.
We live a domestic day,
cleaning the kitchen together, taking out the trash, fold my laundry, and
finally, on the 4th of July, we are ready to head to a Malibu beach
party at 7pm, and drive through the miraculous mountains of Topanga to get
there. We ride through the sunny canyon discussing metaphysics, science,
philosophy and of course fetish and kink. I love getting inside his brilliant
mind, and of course, he loves sharing his insanity with me.
We arrive to Malibu, and
learn that my magical Fairy Friend Arielle was at Usher’s party, and just got
kicked out because she wasn’t on the invite list. I look at domagoj, and we
both decide that we would like to return to my magical fairy castle called
home. The drive to Paradise and back was worth the journey, and what matters
the most is that we are with one another.
We stop at a magical view
point, surrounded by misty clouds, adding to the surreal feeling of the day. We
are truly two lovebirds outside of time and space. Love completely erases all
reality, and only one thing exists; this moment. We stop to admire the natural
beauty, something I don’t get enough of in my city life, and we take the very
first phots with one another since we started dating three weeks ago. He’s
silly and tense, but my face is glowing with radiant joy.
I send a pic to my mom
through text, to let her know I have a
new “hubby” as I call them with her. She compliments my full smile, my face, my
glow. There’s something different with me right now. I am happy from the inside
out when I am with him, and it shows. I have a fullness that I have not
experienced before; he is literally changing the way that I vibrate in the
world.
We end our night driving
through the city at 10pm as the fireworks go off. They explode over our eyes,
creating an other-worldy experience of this concrete junble of a city. Everyone
is celebrating our Independence from England 100’s of years prior, but that
isn’t even on our minds anymore. This is an excuse to turn off the outside
world, be with our families and celebrate our freedom to barbecue and blow shit
up in our backyards. Now it’s turned into a drunken mayhem holiday, but the
fireworks never cease to amaze me. My favorite explodes to my right over a
stadium, a large and glittering gold, a reflection of our eternal nature, right
here in the dual realm. He smiles, totally satisfactory that he is making his
haha happy. I’m giggling like a 5-year old girl. We circle around Hollywood,
and return home to our nest.
I snuggle up in my bed, tired
from last night’s parties, and he feels like he has to go. My heart absoluetley
won’t let him separate from me so soon when I am going on a trip to NY just
days later. This is one of our last nights together, and I want to be next to
his warmth. I lull him to sleep once again with my words, petting his belly,
and he passes out before me.
He also arises before me,
around 6am, and dresses quickly, needing to go home and get work done.
He perches next to me on my
bed
“We’ve crossed the line.”
I play dumb, or coy, or maybe
both, always letting him initiate the “Love” talk.
“What line?’
“You know what I mean.” He
states, and I do. We are together now; we’ve had our domestic time with one
another, we’ve spent a holiday together,
and every available moment, really. He’s
basically saying he’s mine, and he wants me to be his.
But there is still a dragon
lingering over our shoulders that we haven’t yet addressed. He still has to break up with HER.
I leave for New York, And she returns, and we shall see how this story develops.
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