All Blog Entries

Am I a sadist?

No, no, by no means. I couldn't harm a fly.

But I confess I am excited about torture. In my imagination it is always me who is tortured. I have masochist fantasies.

Am I a masochist, then?

Certainly. I love being punished and humiliated.

If you kicked me in the face, I would kiss your foot.
If you pissed on me, I would try to swallow it.
If you whipped my breasts and pussy brutally, I would be sexually ...

Lion

In my fancy
every black African has a lion.

You are walking with your lion
along the path
where i am lying face down
naked, hogtied, gagged.

You say to the lion: "Grab her!"
and the beast takes my neck between its jaws,
cautious not to hurt me,
but growling.

And now i am trembling
with my vulnerable throat in the lion's mouth,
waiting for your next word.

Insecurities. I can’t outrun them. They follow, like jackals yapping at my heels.

Am i good enough? Am i simply…enough?

I can feel the quiet insanity creeping back in, and i hate it. The safe, quiet contentment has worn thin and all that is left is a thin sheen, like sweat, on my skin. So many questions, so many doubts…unfounded? Perhaps…but lingering still.

I need your strength.

I’ve known from the beginning that i was yours. You knew it as well, but only in the back of your mind…in the dark corners where you refused to see it. Not that i think harshly of you for it…i too have denied the concreteness of our relationship…in those dark times of separation when the cold seeped in and i refused to see your face. How strange that those were the moments you saw my belonging so clearly!

And now, after so much time…we both see…we both admit the final truth. Not only ...

Punished for you

When i was being punished for you,
my body danced in its restrains.
When i was being punished for you,
the singletail danced on my bare breasts.
When i was being punished for you,
painted wolf packs danced in the woodland,
vulture squads danced in the air,
half naked black giants danced with chain whips,

and my saliva was flowing down on my chin,
and my blood was flowing down on my pelvis,
and ...

Contentment…

I can feel it searching for me…sending out its smoky tendrils of peace to tickle along my body…making its way across my skin, following the path your kisses made moments earlier, until it finds my lips. Resting there quietly…waiting…and i inhale…

Today, i will remain content…touched, loved…with dreams to ponder and hope to cling to.

I will not consider happiness…not yet. Contentment is my new treasure, and i will keep it close.
...

Wornderfull

My English is far from perfect, but that of my dearest Zulu friend is even poorer. No doubt she is perfect in Zulu, and she speaks another tribal language, Xhosa, too, but in English she makes adorable mistakes. I put here her farewell message:

ngiyabonga gabi u are most wornderfull person i will misss u take a gud care of ur self

Ngiyabonga means thank you, gabi means me, the more of the sentence is in most wornderfull English. I am not ...

Punish me

I am standing before You naked,
with my hands on the back of my head,
defenseless.

Punish me for loving You.

Please take a sjambok and hit my exposed body,
beat my breasts till they bleed,
punish me for loving You.

Please use the sjambok on my bare back,
beat it till it bleeds,
punish me for loving You.

Please make the skin of my bottom break,
make me bleed profusely, ...

It’s funny how coming to a place like this provides you with a forum for the inner voice. Words that have been locked away for days, months and even years find a way of being expressed and shared. Why? NO IDEA!!!! In looking around I found I was drawn to the journeys people talk about and the lives they lead now. I was really interested. The words were genuine and heartfelt. Free and moving. I reflected and thought of things people, both online and in my vanilla life have said to me. "You ...

To a Zulu girl

When i kissed your hand,
it was soft silk to my lips.
When i kissed your feet,
they were Protea flowers to my mouth.
When i kissed your knees,
they were the giant African night itself to my heart.

When you slapped my cheeks,
it was a spark in the African night.
When you kicked my face,
it was like making love in the African night.
When you beat my bare breasts with a thorny branch,
...