(X-rated) April 23, 2023:
I had told Huck El Berry during the drive to New Mexico how amazing it would be to go to an ecstatic dance if it were in alignment. Shortly after I brought it up, Jasper mentioned there was one happening in the heart of Silver City. So, he gifted me a ticket to go with him!
It felt healing to be with my community, especially amongst other wild, hairy women. I remembered what an important ritual it was for me—a way for me to spend some one on one time with God. I watched the way everyone expressed themselves on the dance floor and thought to myself, What a bunch of hippies. But God, I loved being a hippie, myself.
At one point, I felt a deep sense of anger arise while I was dancing—so much so that I started punching the air as if I was beating the shit out of my demons. What a gift to release that energy through the form of dance. When it was over, I felt defeated, yet awake and alive.
Afterwards, I flirted with a guy who had a sculpted body and long dirty blonde dreads accented with wooden beads. Then, Randy took Taylor and I out to breakfast. Taylor gave me insights about relationships/sex and everything she learned over the past year while Randy shared stories about his latest love affairs. He even introduced us to a past love of his who was happily married to one of his friends. I loved to see how they were still really close friends, despite not working out as lovers. They held nothing but gratitude for the past they shared together while recognizing it simply was okay that it didn’t work and, overtime, they were able to both meet people that were more in alignment with their specific needs.
Later at night, Skylar and I watched a movie called Nymphomaniac. It was mind blowing to witness how many similarities I held to the main character, including the manipulative games she played with people. She viewed getting men to fall in love with her as a sort of game, checking them off a list as some sort of high so to speak. I entirely understood that because I, myself, got off on that sort of stuff. I enjoyed using men for my own personal pleasure, then checking them off my list as some sort of score sheet. I often thought it would even be fun to collect baggies of each guy’s cum as a trophy—hang them up on my wall as I masturbated to the thought of all the victims’ souls I took.
After the movie, Skylar and I got situated on the bed. All cozied up, we began gently kissing beneath the soft lighting. He knew I enjoyed being restrained and taken advantage of, so he set the scene for me. He covered my vision, blindfolding me with a satin cloth.
“Now you can imagine whoever you want,” he kissed my neck, “for all you know, you can be getting fucked by multiple people and you won’t even know it,” he whispered.
Next, he restrained my wrists to the backboard while locking my ankles to the foot of the bed. The handcuffs felt weak—too gentle for my liking. I could easily rip myself out of them if I tried. I wanted to feel like there was an actual possibility that I would get raped and killed.
He slapped my tits, then went down to my pussy and slowly began to taste me, making slight groans as he licked up my forming juices. A soft moan escaped my parted lips… I disassociated from my apparent experience.
Sometimes, I wished I could see my worth. I knew it lingered in my mind somewhere… deep down in the darkness I made to cover up my light. My pussy swollen from all the cocks I had been taking… inflated from fingering myself every night… fattened from using foreign objects to abuse my labia. Regardless of the physical and emotional pain I penetrated myself with, I still wanted to take his cock.
With warmth between my thighs and a wish to forget about my hollow life, I begged, “Come fuck me.”
I had told Huck El Berry during the drive to New Mexico how amazing it would be to go to an ecstatic dance if it were in alignment. Shortly after I brought it up, Jasper mentioned there was one happening in the heart of Silver City. So, he gifted me a ticket to go with him!
It felt healing to be with my community, especially amongst other wild, hairy women. I remembered what an important ritual it was for me—a way for me to spend some one on one time with God. I watched the way everyone expressed themselves on the dance floor and thought to myself, What a bunch of hippies. But God, I loved being a hippie, myself.
At one point, I felt a deep sense of anger arise while I was dancing—so much so that I started punching the air as if I was beating the shit out of my demons. What a gift to release that energy through the form of dance. When it was over, I felt defeated, yet awake and alive.
Afterwards, I flirted with a guy who had a sculpted body and long dirty blonde dreads accented with wooden beads. Then, Randy took Taylor and I out to breakfast. Taylor gave me insights about relationships/sex and everything she learned over the past year while Randy shared stories about his latest love affairs. He even introduced us to a past love of his who was happily married to one of his friends. I loved to see how they were still really close friends, despite not working out as lovers. They held nothing but gratitude for the past they shared together while recognizing it simply was okay that it didn’t work and, overtime, they were able to both meet people that were more in alignment with their specific needs.
Later at night, Skylar and I watched a movie called Nymphomaniac. It was mind blowing to witness how many similarities I held to the main character, including the manipulative games she played with people. She viewed getting men to fall in love with her as a sort of game, checking them off a list as some sort of high so to speak. I entirely understood that because I, myself, got off on that sort of stuff. I enjoyed using men for my own personal pleasure, then checking them off my list as some sort of score sheet. I often thought it would even be fun to collect baggies of each guy’s cum as a trophy—hang them up on my wall as I masturbated to the thought of all the victims’ souls I took.
After the movie, Skylar and I got situated on the bed. All cozied up, we began gently kissing beneath the soft lighting. He knew I enjoyed being restrained and taken advantage of, so he set the scene for me. He covered my vision, blindfolding me with a satin cloth.
“Now you can imagine whoever you want,” he kissed my neck, “for all you know, you can be getting fucked by multiple people and you won’t even know it,” he whispered.
Next, he restrained my wrists to the backboard while locking my ankles to the foot of the bed. The handcuffs felt weak—too gentle for my liking. I could easily rip myself out of them if I tried. I wanted to feel like there was an actual possibility that I would get raped and killed.
He slapped my tits, then went down to my pussy and slowly began to taste me, making slight groans as he licked up my forming juices. A soft moan escaped my parted lips… I disassociated from my apparent experience.
Sometimes, I wished I could see my worth. I knew it lingered in my mind somewhere… deep down in the darkness I made to cover up my light. My pussy swollen from all the cocks I had been taking… inflated from fingering myself every night… fattened from using foreign objects to abuse my labia. Regardless of the physical and emotional pain I penetrated myself with, I still wanted to take his cock.
With warmth between my thighs and a wish to forget about my hollow life, I begged, “Come fuck me.”
