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"Every year in the U.S., an estimated 6 to 8 million lost, abandoned, or unwanted dogs and cats enter animal shelters.
Some of these dogs and cats are lucky enough to be adopted into loving, responsible, and permanent homes. But there are far more animals in need of a caring family than there are kind people willing to provide them with a good, permanent home."
Read more: http://www.peta.org/issues/companion-animal-issues/overpopulation/#ixzz2sUdqltTO]
About me... I'm kind of a nerd. I love anime and cartoons (Adventure Time!) and reading and... ya. Kind of a nerd.
I get really excited about a lot of things. I love trying to understand how people and how life works. I'm a very sensual person and I adore being touched, though I find it kind of embarrassing just how much I love it. I value honesty above all, and I am absolutely intrigued by people who make their own paths through life. Living in accordance with their own rules and emotions. That, I think, is the most sexy quality that a human being can possess.
Pronouns: I prefer she/her/hers.
Seeking: Ownership and, in the mean time, play.
Personal Details:
*Height/Weight - 6' / 160
*Orientation - attracted more often to men (Tall is good), but defiantly not prude about it.
*Transexual - female hormones (Begun - 5/2012), basic SRS (castration - 7/2013). Note: Transvestites are generally men who like to dress as women, whereas, as a TS, I think of myself a woman regardless of what I wear - how I dress only helps other people relate to me, it doesn't change how I relate to myself.
*Single, but with responsibilities. I co-parent with my ex.
*Baggage: I need a bit of notice to schedule before I can go anywhere. Also, I'm a bit timid. I will almost never ask for something from someone, specifically, or initiate much. (just because I refuse to ask for something, doesn't mean I don't want it - if in doubt, just ask me).
*Major Draws: People who are creative and a bit selfish, but still consider my needs.
*Attitude: I like playing a bit hard to get, but a confidant touch will generally break through that.
*Appearance: I will dress as femininely as I feel safe in doing. If I'm scared, I'll probably be dressed fairly androgynous. It doesn't mean I'm dressing "as a man" - it means that I am trying to hide how very vulnerable I am.
*Sense of humor: Quick, if often a bit caustic and on the darker side. I have a hard time with jokes that are either too "G" rated or, alternatively, too cruel.
*SM Orientation: "Human Pet" type. Pets are loved and owned, if not necessarily respected. You can care about a pet without having to dedicate your life to it or sacrificing what you could have been without. That would be my dream, I guess. To be owned, completly, and cherished, without taking anything away from my owner, without limiting them. It's not a reality now - but it is what I dream about.
*General Touch/Foreplay: Prefer this to be possessive, yet caring. Big fan of hand holding/pulling, being held by the arm, being held across my stomach, etc.
Pet peeves: Lying.
Hard limits: Electrical Play, penetration (giving), scat, illegal stuff. |
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"On the bed, bitch."
I feel the anger building for a moment, swirling quickly through my belly, only to be swept away as the sound of his voice rolls through me. As the vibration of his words echoes across my skin, through my blood.
And I move. I get onto the bed, facing away, on my hands and knees like a dog. The intention of his words never more clear, never more precise. And I wait. And the cool air drifts across my skin as I can feel the heat of his eyes across my skin. I close my eyes, trying to drown out the tidal wave of thoughts, the thousand imagined imperfections that he must be seeing. I close my eyes in shame and despair. But even yet a thin hope flows through me, coursing up my spine, through my belly, down my arms. A thin cord of hope that never-the-less keeps me rooted in place. Unable to move. Unable to turn around or walk out the door.
And that thin spindle of hope surges, rushing through me until it becomes my blood and skin and nerves. Because it is rewarded. Because his hand is touching me. Slowly at first, I can feel the heat of his touch against my naked skin. The rough pull of his hand as he rubs me somewhat possessively. As if taking ownership of my body, accepting it as his to do with as he wishes, before he makes any move at all.
Move though, he does. A quick jolt rushes through me, echoed what seems like seconds afterword by the sound of skin hitting skin. And I feel my body stiffen, quiver in a way that I can not control, before I even realize it was a slap. That I have just been spanked, and will, be it a heartbeat or in another dozen breaths, I will be spanked again.
My body flinches. My muscles tighten, my back arches, and a tide of pain envelops my thoughts. I had just been spanked, again - but even the knowledge of what is happening, what is being done to me, is starting to fade from my mind. The pain rushes through me, again and again, while my body twitches, clutches, twists in ways that I can not control. And I scream. Because I'm confused, and hurting, and it feels like I'm loosing myself. And I scream again.
But then it stops. For a heartbeat, or a breath, or a minute. It stops and I feel Him there next to me. Hovering over me, taking my body and my mind for his pleasure. And feeling him there, knowing that it is Him and I, and that all this is being done simply because he wishes it, only one thought flows through my head. Take more. Please. Want more, take more. Want me
And where in the vanilla world this would never happen, this wish could never be fulfilled - rather leading to nothing more than a few extra grunts. A slightly deeper thrusting. Where outside of this place, this moment, I will be forever, damnedibly alone, here it is as if he hears my silent prayer. As if he hears this desperate wish and mercifully wraps his fingers through my hair. Tearing my head back even as he pinches and gropes at my skin. And in that moment, for that brief window of time, he has answered my prayer. He has answered it and, in doing so, he has become my god, my saviour, my guardian.
His weight presses against my back, before I have even felt him move. The cold buttons of his shirt press into my naked skin as he leans against me, whispers in my ear. "Scream for me, bitch."
And I do. For as his hand turns my head, as he takes my lips as he would take every other part of me. As if it belonged to him. As I taste him in my mouth and feel the echo of his passion tearing through me, I know that I am his. Until he chooses to set me free.
And when he does, when he finally tires and tells me to walk away, I stand up with my head held high. Because for the bruises and the aches, and the soreness of being so roughly used, for the first time in weeks... sometimes in months. Sometimes in years. For the first time in ages, I feel whole. I feel happy. I feel not-alone. |
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