Requell
07-26-2012, 12:35 AM
I`m sorry about the misspelling, it is late, and tomorrow I promise when I am home from work I will change and fix the horrid spelling and grammer mistakes.
Growing up, I`m sure like many people, life wasn`t easy, for one I never really understood why I liked the things I did, saw the world the way I do.
I remember learning about sex at a very young age, trying strange things on myself. For along time, I tried not to do anything, because I thought it was wrong. And at times, I still think it`s wrong. I consider myself an overly open person with my friends and some strangers even. But there are things about me, that I feel I couldn`t tell even my closest friends, or even lovers from the past.
I admit I enjoy different things, not to some of the extremes you might be thinking if taking an interest and reading this.
I`m not sure where this need developed, I was never abused physically, I wasn`t abused much mentally, and by no means sexually. But I remember laying down when I was twelve and eyeing a shoe-string I had tied around my headboard, I`m not sure why I did it, or why it was there, but I found myself slipping my hands into the tight pull of thread, once one was in, I managed to get the other. It was tight, and took me a moment to wiggle back out of it again. But while there, with my hands over my head, I found myself quite excited by the idea of being unable to move. As I did it more and more, I could myself wishing it was a pair of hands, that were the things holding my arms down. Keeping me there, pinned, having to struggle to get free.
Eventually however, the shoe lace no longer thrilled me, and at night, alone, trying to sleep, but finding myself wide awake, no thanks to the insomnia I suffered from years of depression. I recall a night, I don`t remember how old, though it must have only been when I was 15-16. I rubbed my neck, and soon found myself grasping it tight, as I touched myself...
I started watching odd porns, no longer finding that normal sex excited, or helped me reach that breaking point.
It felt right, but in my head, a part of me felt wrong.
And as I matured, and started to date, become serious with someone I cared about, when things between us became heated I found myself pulling their hands to my throat, eyes begging them to take charge of me, but they always took it as some other type of invite...
I once found myself with a man I cared for, whom I truly wanted to be with, he liked bondage, and to tie people up, we tried it on me, for some reason, it did not excite me, his constant annoyance that he wasn`t doing something right, not to mention, for someone who loved to tie people up, he did not have the mindset of someone in power. I would tell him, call me names, chock me, slap me, say i belong to you and only you.
Beat me, break me- Sadly, those begs, never led anywhere, when he tried to talk dirty, it sounded hollow, confused, forced... never natural, never real-
Because I cared for him, I pretended to like it, but... it never excited me. I can honestly say that was not the reason I am no longer with him. He did become violent, but not the way I wanted, instead it was because I choose not to believe in a religion that made me, my entire childhood, be afraid and ashamed of who I was.
There was a time, when I was younger, coming into my own sexually, pansexual, sense I did not mention it before hand.
When I developed a close blond with a friend of mine, we spent almost every day together, I wasn't ashamed to tell her these things I liked and wanted, and-she was able to give them to me, yes, we only role played as other people during our sleepovers, never as ourselves, but, it was close to what I wanted, the closest thing, now that I think back about it.
Though after a year and a half of friendship and love, a week of hardship, and she tossed me aside for some nerd (And I am a nerd, so for me to call down a fellow nerd, means he was super nerdy,)
I would like this think someday I will find her again... another one like her, someone who can laugh and talk with me, hold my hand, say and do random stuff in the moment, but behind the doors, love me the way I want to be, mentally and physically.
I`m not depressed anything, thankfully it all stopped when I was eight-teen, ten years after It started, I`m twenty now. I`m happy now, innocent, waiting for that person who will make it all feel right, so yes, I am a virgin, I`ve had the chance to give it up many times, but found no one was worth it...
Happy, bubbly, i have my funny moments, been told I have a beautiful smile. I`ve always been called cute, but once someone gets to know me, it seems cute fades into beautiful.
I think I like my innocent face...
This isn`t an ad, but just a little excert from my life- maybe someday I`ll look back on this and smile, saying My hopes for that Mistress of mine, were just, because she`s sleeping on the bed behind me.
I`ll post here from now on, just little things I experience in the day, night, even if it`s only for my eyes to look back on.
Good-morning, Good-night, strangers whom might stumble across these ramblings, of a lost slave-
Growing up, I`m sure like many people, life wasn`t easy, for one I never really understood why I liked the things I did, saw the world the way I do.
I remember learning about sex at a very young age, trying strange things on myself. For along time, I tried not to do anything, because I thought it was wrong. And at times, I still think it`s wrong. I consider myself an overly open person with my friends and some strangers even. But there are things about me, that I feel I couldn`t tell even my closest friends, or even lovers from the past.
I admit I enjoy different things, not to some of the extremes you might be thinking if taking an interest and reading this.
I`m not sure where this need developed, I was never abused physically, I wasn`t abused much mentally, and by no means sexually. But I remember laying down when I was twelve and eyeing a shoe-string I had tied around my headboard, I`m not sure why I did it, or why it was there, but I found myself slipping my hands into the tight pull of thread, once one was in, I managed to get the other. It was tight, and took me a moment to wiggle back out of it again. But while there, with my hands over my head, I found myself quite excited by the idea of being unable to move. As I did it more and more, I could myself wishing it was a pair of hands, that were the things holding my arms down. Keeping me there, pinned, having to struggle to get free.
Eventually however, the shoe lace no longer thrilled me, and at night, alone, trying to sleep, but finding myself wide awake, no thanks to the insomnia I suffered from years of depression. I recall a night, I don`t remember how old, though it must have only been when I was 15-16. I rubbed my neck, and soon found myself grasping it tight, as I touched myself...
I started watching odd porns, no longer finding that normal sex excited, or helped me reach that breaking point.
It felt right, but in my head, a part of me felt wrong.
And as I matured, and started to date, become serious with someone I cared about, when things between us became heated I found myself pulling their hands to my throat, eyes begging them to take charge of me, but they always took it as some other type of invite...
I once found myself with a man I cared for, whom I truly wanted to be with, he liked bondage, and to tie people up, we tried it on me, for some reason, it did not excite me, his constant annoyance that he wasn`t doing something right, not to mention, for someone who loved to tie people up, he did not have the mindset of someone in power. I would tell him, call me names, chock me, slap me, say i belong to you and only you.
Beat me, break me- Sadly, those begs, never led anywhere, when he tried to talk dirty, it sounded hollow, confused, forced... never natural, never real-
Because I cared for him, I pretended to like it, but... it never excited me. I can honestly say that was not the reason I am no longer with him. He did become violent, but not the way I wanted, instead it was because I choose not to believe in a religion that made me, my entire childhood, be afraid and ashamed of who I was.
There was a time, when I was younger, coming into my own sexually, pansexual, sense I did not mention it before hand.
When I developed a close blond with a friend of mine, we spent almost every day together, I wasn't ashamed to tell her these things I liked and wanted, and-she was able to give them to me, yes, we only role played as other people during our sleepovers, never as ourselves, but, it was close to what I wanted, the closest thing, now that I think back about it.
Though after a year and a half of friendship and love, a week of hardship, and she tossed me aside for some nerd (And I am a nerd, so for me to call down a fellow nerd, means he was super nerdy,)
I would like this think someday I will find her again... another one like her, someone who can laugh and talk with me, hold my hand, say and do random stuff in the moment, but behind the doors, love me the way I want to be, mentally and physically.
I`m not depressed anything, thankfully it all stopped when I was eight-teen, ten years after It started, I`m twenty now. I`m happy now, innocent, waiting for that person who will make it all feel right, so yes, I am a virgin, I`ve had the chance to give it up many times, but found no one was worth it...
Happy, bubbly, i have my funny moments, been told I have a beautiful smile. I`ve always been called cute, but once someone gets to know me, it seems cute fades into beautiful.
I think I like my innocent face...
This isn`t an ad, but just a little excert from my life- maybe someday I`ll look back on this and smile, saying My hopes for that Mistress of mine, were just, because she`s sleeping on the bed behind me.
I`ll post here from now on, just little things I experience in the day, night, even if it`s only for my eyes to look back on.
Good-morning, Good-night, strangers whom might stumble across these ramblings, of a lost slave-