She surrendered to him … Gave it all … Held back nothing … Offered everything …

A look of desire flashed across his face …
A smouldering and intense look in his eyes …

A look so haunted …

A look that spoke of darkness, lust and pain … 

It screamed of need, passion and longing …
She tried to avoid that look …

Tried to avoid eye contact …

But she could not … 
It captured her …

It entranced her … 

It made her want to know more … 

She had to know more … 
She needed that desire …

Wanted that lust …

Coveted that passion … 

Longed for that pain … 
She had to have it all … 

She had to have everything he offered … 

And more …

She had to have it now …
She surrendered to him …

Gave it all …

Held back nothing …

Offered everything …
She became …

……………………. His …

The highly erotic sound of a lust filled groan…

Caressing your pretty face as my thumb glides over your soft, full lips. 

And you groan as your mouth opens to lick and devour it.

That…..just fucking that……

——

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You yearn to experience the feeling of true Domination. True ownership. To be completely conquered.

You walk into the darkened room, your eyes attempt to adjust, but you are unable to see me. You feel my presence behind you. You feel the blindfold as it slides over your eyes and blocks your vision. You feel your other senses heighten to compensate for your loss of vision.

You feel my strong and experienced hands grasp your shoulders, and you feel the electric touch of my fingers as they teasingly run up and down your arms. The hank of rope in my hands scrapes harshly, yet seductively over your skin, as I push you forcefully to your knees.

You feel goosebumps begin to form on your skin, as the lust and desire of the foreign, yet familiar touch, begins to take over your imagination, and your body begins to respond in kind.

You feel me forcefully pull your wrists back. You feel me pull your hair and bite your neck and exposed throat. You try to fight and push, but are no match for my primal strength, as lust and desire drives me to Dominate you. To control you. To own you. You feel the tightening of the rope as I bind your arms and forcefully spread your legs.

You hear the sound of my harsh breathing as I begin to get excited. You feel the fire of my hands as I begin to get excited by the control of your body and mind. You feel me teasing you, and you want me to touch you everywhere that I am deliberately avoiding.

You want me to push forward and toy with you to the edge of your self control. You want me to push you over the edge. You want me to stop. You want me to continue. You want me to stop again. You want me to take you on a journey. A journey that frightens, yet excites you. A journey that has no set destination. No known end.

You want to feel my hard, throbbing cock pushing against your lips. You want to feel my steely hand against the back of your head. You want to feel my cock force your pursed lips open. You want to feel breathless, as I forcefully fuck your mouth. You want to feel my cock forced into your throat. You want to taste me, drink me. You want me to show you what it means to belong to me.

You want to feel my hands wrap around your throat. You want to feel my teeth sink in. You want to feel the sting of having your breasts slapped. You want to feel helpless. You want to feel out of control. You want me to exert my Dominance. You want me to show you what it’s truly like to feel helpless and owned.

You want me to build you to an edge. You want me to toy with you until you are begging. You want me to allow you to orgasm. You want me to force you to orgasm. You want to beg me to stop. You want me to keep going. You want me to stop again. You want to sob and cry and be powerless. You want to be at my mercy.

You want me to take you as hard as you can. You want to feel totally out of control. You want to feel powerless against my Dominance. You want to feel breathless, owned, controlled. You want to feel what it’s like to be at the total mercy of someone so strong, experienced and Dominating.

And then. You want me to be gentle. You want to experience real aftercare. Sensual, seductive, satisfying aftercare. A feeling of total exhaustion, total satisfaction, total submission. Absolute submission to me. You want to feel the experience of real Domination. To be truly Dominated. You want the feeling of being totally owned. You want …. No. You NEED the feeling of being totally conquered.

Why mentor? What does a mentor get out of it? And what does a mentor provide.

The other day, I was talking to someone who asked me about mentoring. They could see that I have several mentees listed in my d/s relationships, and they had a genuine question. They been approached by another “mentor” (and I use that word lightly for that person acting as the mentor), and once the dynamic began, the mentor began giving orders, setting tasks, asking for photos, and other self serving things. If you have a mentor, and that mentor even remotely hints that they want to engage in a dynamic that does anything but provide you with platonic advice and guidance, then let that raise a fucking huge red flag. If that occurs, simply run like fuck. Mentoring is about guiding you. Not ordering you. If someone wants to order you to do debauched things, then that is a very different dynamic indeed. Fair enough if in a sexual or kink dynamic, as your Master, Dom, Domme or even trainer. But not as a Mentor. The mentor role is an advisory one. A role of trust.

In kink, a mentor is essentially an experienced person that you obtain unbiased and impartial advice from. Someone that has knowledge and/or experience, and is truly willing to share that knowledge with you, without agenda. Someone that you learn from. Someone that gives you suggestions that are unbiased. Answers to questions that are impartial, clear and concise. Presented to you in a blunt and honest way. Honesty that can be down to earth, brutal and very straightforward. Not sugar coated. No bias. No sexual connotations. A mentor does not allow personal emotions cloud the answer provided. And no embarrassment occurs, as the dynamic is platonic, and thus does not allow emotions to get involved, that can often cloud the judgement when discussing taboo based items). 

A mentor does not train the mentee. The mentor does not have an intimate sexual or physical relationship with the mentee. As a mentor, you act impartially. No interest in personal gain, and no personal agenda. Totally unbiased. The role is to teach and to guide. To walk the mentee through that massive maze of kink information that batters and confuses them. To offer advice. Suggestions. Answers. Guidance.

Mentoring is a relaxing thing for me. I do it to guide and empower others, but also to allow me to endure and allow it to teach me patience and humility. There is no sexual innuendo or contact. Their is no pressure of a standard dynamic. And it is truly fun to watch a person grow from (often) a state of naivety (innocence) and confusion, into a strong independent and empowered individual, who often in turn ends up mentoring and guiding others.

Its a selfless act. You don’t gain sexual satisfaction, you don’t get a physical prize, you don’t often get recognition. But it’s not about getting any of that. It allows you to learn about, and understand, true humility. The fact that someone asks you for guidance, and you provide the guidance, with an impartial, unbiased and transparent view on things, which in turn allow them to make a better informed choice, based upon the information you provide. The choice that allows them to absorb that information, then grow and evolve. Safely. 

And I love learning humility. I truly do. I transfer this skill I acquire into understanding and compassion. As I grew up, safety was something that I wasn’t accustomed to. In my world, we had to learn to provide it for ourselves. And the way we obtained safety, was through knowledge. Knowledge and understanding, that empowered the ability to think and act rationally. When you grow up in nasty places, only the tough survive. But to be tough AND to be able to make decisions based upon analysis, rather than instinct, was what sets apart the few from the many. 

Another reason I love mentoring, is that it keeps reminding me the importance of living, loving and laughing. My whole world was brutal and nasty before I met my wife, and she softened me (in a good way). I grew up in a world that was brutal in its own right. Grew up very poor, in very low income neighbourhoods, and grew up in the school of hard knocks. Very rough neighbourhoods, where violence was simply a daily part of survival. The streets were a jungle. And not a nice jungle.

I still remember moving to a new area with my parents. A particularly nasty area with a severe reputation. What sticks in my mind, was my introduction to the new school I attended. I remember sitting in class the first day, silently analysing who was who in the zoo, and a young guy was all up in the teachers face, throwing attitude around, not caring about the authority of the teacher. Finally the teacher had simply had enough. The teacher threw the child out of the class for swearing, sending him to the principals office. The child walked back in half an hour later, and drive a pitchfork through the side of the teachers neck. Welcome to the neighbour. Please enjoy your stay.

My father was very old school European, and as such had the morals of the old school. He taught me some invaluable lessons in life. To respect my mother and father, to respect women (when being shown respect), respect my elders (when being shown respect), and to never to take shit from anyone. I also learned the value of money. He would work 12 hour shifts for fuck all coin, and stayed in that same job for 30 years, until he retired (due to heart issues and risk of heartattack). We were poor, very poor, but we always had food on the table. It taught me some very good lessons in life. It taught me respect for money, and to appreciate it.

I was good at fighting, exceptional. But I also used my head. In school I was a straight A’s honour student. I thrived on learning. I soaked up everything. When I started bouncing at club and pub doors, I had a motto of talk them, before walk them. As you can imagine, being 6’4″ and 200kg (440lb) of sheer brutal force helped dissuade a lot of fucktards and muppets from choosing the wrong option. And I always hold a stare, irrelevant of who or what challenges. If we are going to lock horns, if you are a threat to me, i want to look into your eyes and understand what I need to do to put you down, I need to understand the animal I am about to put down. I need to know if you are outright psychotic, and have to put you down immediately, hard , fast and brutal without chance of you getting back up again, or I want to know if it’s just your drunken stupidity, or your ego that is making you do this in front of your friends, and a slight tap on your chin will be enough to wake you up from your own stupidity and will dissuade you from any further physical action. I also want to look you directly into your eyes, and make sure you understand that I do not fold. That fear does not exist in my world. And that this exact moment in time is your chance to back down and walk away from something that is about to change your life.

But the way I operated set me apart from the rest. I ended up with a reputation, both on the street but also through the clubbing scene, and club owners quickly sourced me out. Asked me to provide them with the same quality of security as the place that I initially worked in. I formed a business and it went from there. I took on a lot of contracts, and slowly introduced new services, and worked my way to a bodyguard on an international scale. As a bodyguard I was brilliant, because I didn’t hesitate to draw a weapon and take the life of someone who was threatening my clients welfare. I could analyse and assess a risk within 5-10 seconds and know if I needed to intercept physically, or if I had to draw a weapon and make a heart wrenching decision to end someone’s life in order to protect the one I’m hired to protect. Over time that really impacts on someones mental capacity, and also drains the empathy bucket. It turns you rock hard emotionally. Being good at that game, drains your humanity. Nothing good really comes out of that role. The negatives outweigh the positives.

As you’ve also read in some of my other articles, I’ve had the occasional hiccup in life and at times, had a bumpy ride. So now I do everything to empower myself. Learn about things. Live happy. Love happy. Be happy. Life is too short to dwell on the negatives and nasties. And by mentoring, it allows me to give that little bit back to others that need guidance, but also protect a few souls from themselves, by empowering them to become strong, knowledgeable and to learn to depend upon themselves, once empowered with that inner strength. 

Enjoy your journey, wherever that may take you.

AP

Kink thought of the day : ***“Always defend your right to kink at your own pace. You are taking your time. This is your journey. You are allowed to take your time.”***

He wanted to paint her skin with erotic and beautiful shades of pain….

He wanted her hungry and starving, yet satisfied. Dangerous and reckless, yet sweet and grounded. He needed to brutally and savagely fuck her, yet hold her close to his heart. He wanted her to desire him, to need him, to beg for him. To hear her cry and weep for him, while at the same time tenderly laugh with the pure joy she felt from his warm embrace of her soul and savagely brutal penetration of her senses.

He truly loved nothing greater than hearing the sweet sounds of desire as they escaped her lips in the form of lust filled, wanton moans of pleasure. The desperate look of hunger that poured from her smouldering eyes. He adored watching her body react as lustful passion released from her soul, and her body trembled as it vividly responded beneath his firm but gentle touch, watching her delicate lips quiver as the smile that lifted the corners of her lips betrayed her overwhelming feelings of need to serve him. A desperate need that emitted from the very depths of her subjugated soul.

He wanted to place his ownership marks on her through the erotic art of impact play. Imprint his passion and desire onto her very flesh. Paint her skin with erotic and beautiful shades of pain. The alluring purples, the vibrant blues, the bright reds and the pretty pastel of soft pinks. When he finally finished, he would lie beside her, watching the chest of his beautiful canvas rise and fall with the breaths of precious air that filled her lungs, and stare in adoration at his freshly painted masterpiece of pain. 

He wanted to pull her in and hold her close, in a firm, but gentle embrace, drawing her into him, his very soul reaching out to touch hers, as he seduced her and drew her into the smooth silky ponds of his darkness. He wanted to restrain her and hurt her with savagely brutal impact, then gently consume her body with the soft touch of his fingertips as he traced his fingers along her skin, watching the erotic dance of goosebumps form on her skin and hypnotically follow his roaming exploration of touch as it sought out and discovered her entire body.

She willingly gave him what he wanted. Her body. Her heart. Her mind. Her soul. Her submission. ***Her everything.***

——–
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