vanilla coated

Daily life has left me up to my neck in vanilla world stuff. Where’s the kink? That viscous swirl of rich dark hurting, of spank-reddened flesh…it evades my body, yet haunts my mind.

Where can I find that which I crave? SO intense that it exists within the viscera of my cells- a need that is matched by His strength. Of His hand squeezing my flesh until I whimper, beg and moan. The sharp bite of the cane or His teeth marking me as His toy.  

It feels worlds away.

Busy on the outside…smiling and capable and competent; on the inside I am screaming.

I need.

I want.

I crave.

Hit me, hurt me. Bruise me, mark me as a slut, a wanton burning whore who needs to be INCAPABLE…who just needs to obey, to suffer, to pleasure, and through that storm of agony, be made new.

It evades capture, though it lives wild in my mind. 


It is that thought that keeps me sane. Someday we will have time for one another. Time to do the wicked and horrible things that I adore…things that He needs to do and I crave the receiving of.

Until then I will smile, be capable. 

And hold the screams inside.