For over 13 years I have been on Dreamnet letting you men (and ladies) pleasure yourself over my photos and videos. I have great members who inspire me with their words and gifts. Recently a new member wrote me and I am not sure if he caught me at a strange moment, but he caught my attention. I had exotic stories written to me before, but this one was different. He seemed to know me. He seemed to know what I wanted. At first I thought it was my own husband or an old boyfriend playing a trick on me, but no…this person knows what is inside me. Read and let me know what you think……I think I want this…..
A Man’s best friend: The beauty of building & breaking (Short piece inspired by the lovely Rebecca)
I sat and waited for his order
As I softly poured her a large glass of cabarnet sauvignon from Wente Vineyards, I couldn’t help the subtle smile across my face. Similar to the wine falling, my mind was being filled with joy and fascination at her mere presence, her flawless femininity, her undeniable glow.
I had cooked her favourite Italian cuisine tonight. We’d spoken briefly and cordially but this was the real playing field now. With myself being from London that slowed our meeting process but i finally made it. WE made it. Face to face, mind to mind, kink to kink. Sitting across from me on the couch, her legs elegantly crossed and her hair elegantly propped, i instantly knew my target, aim and goal. This was no girl. She is all woman.
”Do you ever get told you’re an artist?” I asked politely as I handed her glass. ”Context is key. I do what I love and express that fully in my passion” Her truth teased my mind. ”I agree. You’re an authentic artist to me. Performance art of the mental & physical kind that is truly magnetic. Truly authentic. Here’s my reasoning, relax your mind, be quiet and listen close…..
I think you’ve found your happiness, your soul center and your truth along time ago. With that progressive realization achieved, you turn effortlessly to your natural self-state. Not a moaning, complaining, insecure and abrasive female state. A state of grace. Giving without expectation of return. A state of experiment, experimenting every single day how you can help, assist or teach. Being a real woman without self-inflicted limits or doubts, you express that fully whether fucking, interacting of simply being. I didn’t want to hear her rebuttal. Was I firing aimlessly or did i connect?….I didn’t care.
Slowly reaching to her leg I gently rubbed her thigh, read her grin and offered to massage her feet. Her agreement was not in mere words but in the faintest, sexiest body language subtleties! I gently removed one heel and rested her pretty foot in my lap. ”Where was i!?” I genuinely inquired. The simplistic beauty and femininity of her feet clearly disrupting my thought. She has power, I said to myself. She IS power.
As I rubbed away slowly I continued my perspective on this amazing creature, this animal. The wild & untamed reward i hunted down with intent. Its so ironic. The art you produce and the aurora you give off is all centered and themed around giving. The reason you’re even doing that initially is……giving! By initially giving to your husband you’re then also giving to us. The admirers, the appreciators and of course the lucky fuckers who go knee deep in your gorgeous guts. That not only shows your focus but it shows supreme stability. Both attractive and powerful traits beyond mere aesthetics….Bottom line is you’re a pleaser babe. If YOU can’t help then YOU aren’t content. The polar opposite of selfish. The common disease today’s modern pool where some women excel in taking, begging and hoarding, you Rebecca excel in every other way. It’s in you, it is you. The beautiful place, space and mentality where real women belong. Some women believe they are submissive and some women know where they belong – knowing is stronger than believing.
It’s in your ‘knowing’ that you adapt so easily to life, parenting, marriage, work and art. Whether screwing slow & sensually or fucking relentlessly fast, you adapt accordingly with grace. Whether being treated like shit or treated like a princess, you adapt accordingly. What your men say goes and you will not DARE question or degrade their wishes. That direct lack of assistance is your idea of vile selfishness. It’s everything your fabric is not and everything you do not want offer. You are forever embedded inside the soothing world of compliance, domination and liberation of which your mind (not body) navigates with sheer ease. That, madam, is a strength not a weakness. A woman not a female. A goddess not a doormat.
Saying that, the artist Picasso once said how he ”enjoys turning a goddess into a doormat”’ – I naturally found this statement beautiful & profound. It resonated with me to the same extent your art does and i shall explain why. In my view, a conscious goddess has the will power & CHOICE to become whatever she wants, Nothing contradicts what she says is right. However, an original, ungoddess-like, limited and misguided female will never elevate to the status of a goddess. It’s in this paradox that you & your mind pleasures me. You’re a goddess, you’ve felt the euphoria and liberation of that notion but you’re intelligent and authentic enough that you will allow yourself to easily transform into a doormat. .Most importantly, you find the exact same joy in the ‘goddess mentality’ as you do the ‘doormat mentality’.
As I felt the release of my perspective & thoughts on this animal, I stood up tall. Locked eye to eye with her and reached under the cushion to reveal a leather dog collar. Simple yet effective, harsh yet beautiful, I wrapped it around my hand and told her to stand. She duly obliged. Silently. As we awkwardly approached, i rested my forehead against hers. Taking my spare hand, I loving wrapped it fully & firmly around her neck. I was in control. I took control by choice. More so shocked than struggling, she gracefully took the loving force and awaited my next words. I refused to take a ‘no’ and i think this was communicated instantly via mind.
Gazing deep into the windows of her soul i confidentially and loudly state my next move. ”I’ve made my intent awfully clear sweetheart. Despite everything i said, you need my training & taming. There is no way I’m letting a creature of your stature get away. This is hunting season and I am the victor….without 5 years of planning or a pathetic flip chart.”
Removing my hand, I stared at Rebecca’s every nuance. Her luscious short hair screamed the poignant phrase ‘less is more.’ Her strong eyes screamed ‘take me, but take care too’ and her lovable lips said nothing. Their silence was golden. Their silence was for me. Their silence was my approval….
Gently turning her around i wrapped my arms right around her petite frame and held my new woman, my new pet, my property. The dog collar still dangling in my grip I whispered in her ear ”This collar is your collar. It is the personification tool of your giving attitude. It is the symbol of where you, as a woman, truly belong. However, most importantly it is a symbol of CHOICE. The choice to do exactly as you’re told. The choice to be trained and treated like the mutt you are. The choice to give everything to the man who see’s you as nothing”.
As the few seconds wait felt like an hour, she gradually knelt on her knees in front of me. Stroking her hair and kissing her forehead twice, i proceeded to gently apply her collar around her neck. ”DREAM DOG” was appropriately scribed along the collar. As I held onto the leash, I stood tall and broad. This animal, this creature 19 years my senior was on her way to being fully trained* tamed like never before.
”It’s the process and not the content that matters” I said proudly….
…..NOW FUCKING SIT!!! I shouted.