Lovemarks And Spiritual Aspects Of BDSM

I just love to see the lovemarks Master leaves on my skin. Freaks me totally out, even days later 🙂 I have been thinking about the spiritual aspects of BDSM. I’m not so sure whether I’ll be able to get to the point, but I’ll give it a go.

Although I have made spiritual experiences during sessions, I would not have called it that way until I found out about ritualized pain. There are many religions who accept ritualized pain as a service for the God or the Gods. Christianity and Hinduism are the first to pop up in my mind when thinking about it. Jesus Christ on the cross, wounded and with a crown of thorns is reenacted by believers, who even torture themselves with strokes on their backs like the medieval flaggellanti. In hinduism, there are streams in which people put hooks through their cheeks, tongues, backs and so on to experience severe pain. Some consider this pain as a gift for the Gods, some say their God makes them resistent to pain, which they want to prove by injuring themselves.

Every pain means stress to the body and the mind. The body reacts to pain by producing pain-recuding subtances (I don’t know what they are called) so that one gets a bit high. At least, that’s what I feel like when pain is inflicted on me. The more pain, the higher I get. But, to be honest, the pain I experience during sessions is totally different from the pain I experience when cutting me accidentally LOL I guess that’s because during sessions I’m in an altered state of mind due to the setting. When playing, I’m in an inferior role like the misbehaved boy or son. John and I like to extend these roles into our everyday life, but I guess there’s still a big difference in our behaviour and understanding of our roles when playing and when being in our everday routine. For example, I really like being slapped in the face when playing, but it would hurt my feelings if John did that to me when we were not playing. We have managed to communicate by looks so that we know if the other would like to join in a game or not. For others the borders between our “normal” relationship and playing are very diffuse, I guess.

I have agreed to expand the limits of our relationship, so that John may have sex with others and can decide for me whether I’m allowed to have sex or not. I have even agreed to the fact that he can lend me to others who may use me (as far as they stick to the rules). These things cause mental pain. I have not been able to find out why I like this sort of pain. Perhaps because it also expands the limits, or perhaps because of what my father did to me. His “games” were not only physical.

When getting spanked, I feel I’m not in charge. I’m all helpless. I give in to my Master. When we started our BDSM-relationship, we had talked it over that he’d like to hit me and that I usually like to get hit. But I said that I’m afraid to try it, because I feared I might lose myself. Sometimes things trigger and then I’m with my father again, which is quite a kink-killer LOL In one of our first sessions I felt I could not go on and I asked him to stop without using our safe-word. When you ask your Master to stop without using that word, he will not stop, but I had just forgotten about the word. So he went on caning me and demanded discipline from me, while I thought I could not take it. But then it changed. I found out that I had just passed a barrier and that John’s authority would carry me anywhere from there. It was the first time I experienced that a strong and stable Master can help you emerge and rise above yourself and take much, much more than you ever thought you could. But although we’re together now for so long, I’m still not able to understand why he feels comfortable with all the responsibility lasting on his shoulders (job, me and so on). I wouldn’t be able to bear it, but he is and he likes it. Love can’t endure helplessness and being passive and I can’t bear being in charge and offensive.

At some point of the game, when things get really painful and annoying, it feels like I can leave my thoughts and doubts behind. There is only Master. His voice carries me through anything. His will becomes my will. I’m obedient and stop thinking. I’m at his mercy. Well, I guess that’s what believers experience in their relationship with God. You are minor, He is superior. But although he could just break or kill you, he carries you on his wings of love through it all, until you experience your own strength and worth and feel only thankful and full of love. He could do the worst thing to you, but he decides to do you only good, even though it hurts. Would it be good, if it did not hurt? Well, not for me. I need this pain, I need to be disciplined and put where I belong.



Three For Joy

Last weekend, John and I went to Switzerland. He had presented me with that trip for my birthday and I was very nervous, because we were flying there und would meet L, John’s childhood sweetheart. I felt a bit weak when we entered the plane, but Love held my hand firmly and it turned out that flying is not so bad, except for ear pain. When we arrived, we took a taxi to the hotel, checked in and had a walk across town. I really like Switzerland, everyone is very polite and helpful. We had tea in a small cafĂ© and it was then I uttered I was a bit anxious to meet L. Not because of L as a person, but because he is a very stable and responsible man, too. Many people depend on him, just like on John, and I tend to feel a bit poor considering that. It’s like the “salad-boy” in jeans meets two businessman in suits. It always makes me feel insufficient. John and I are O.K. with it, but I know people tend to look at us and judge our relationship like “it’s only phyical and as soon as John is satisfied, he’ll drop that salad-boy”.

However, Love and I went back to the hotel, changed and then it was time to meet L. He had suggested to meet in a nice restaurant where they offer vegetarian dishes as well, because he knows I’m a vegetarian. How sweet is that? 🙂 Our first hour together was a bit formal, but L is very nice and funny, too, so that I opened up the more the longer we sat there and talked. From the very beginning it was clear that L still fancies John, and I could tell by the look in John’s eyes and his beaming face that he fancies L, too. It was a bit strange witnessing these two guys flirting while trying not to flirt LOL

At 10, John voted for us to move to the bar in our hotel, and so we did. I do not drink alcohol because I don’t agree with it, but they both had some drinks. They talked about old memories from school and I could see them getting sad. After a while, they were silent and John smiled faintly. It was that moment, when I felt completely pity for them. You never know how it would have ended, but I thought if they had not been separated, they might still be together, and I may have never met John anyway. And I was totally aware of the fact that these two still crave each other. I thought perhaps it would make it easier if they just gave in. It took all my courage to say it, but I did. When the words were out, John and L said nothing, just looked at me, looked at each other and still did not reply. “What?” I asked. “Uhm, well, I have asked myself whether you two would just let me…watch?”, L said. John and I changed looks, John smiled slightly, so I nodded. I wanted to know why L did not want to take part, but he did not reply properly. We finished our drinks. L said he’d pay, so that John and I could already return to our room and he would follow. We agreed. In the lift I asked John what he thought why L would not join us. He told me, he thinks L thinks he’s too fat and old and unattractive to meet with other guys, which is why he still lives alone. Ugh, that made me sad, especially because he’s such a kind man. We did not talk anymore, but I felt like we had come to a silent agreement.

When L followed some minutes later, he settled into an armchair near the bed. John and I were still standing, when we began kissing. I was nervous. It’s not the same in front of someone so dear to your husband. John started opening my shirt and I took his off. I could hear L swallow when he say John naked. Love smiled at me and I knew what to do. I went to L, knelt down before him and began stroking his shaking hands, then softly kissed him, while John stayed where he was. “Come”, I told him, got up and took him by the hand. I led him to John. They just stood there for eternity, looking into each other’s eyes, and I thought it was like they were asking each other for excuse. Finally, they smiled and John kissed him.

I watched them from the armchair and did not intervene. It was totally different from anything else John and I had done in the past years, and I guess that’s because they feel for each other. They literally made love, but it did not make me feel jealous or uncomfortable. It was peaceful and quiet and beautiful and I was glad they shared this moment of their lives with me. Later, they invited me, and I thankfully came over.

L just stayed with us the next two days. We spent the whole time together and I tried to back off a bit. They were holding hands and kissing and cuddling, but I did not feel excluded. It was more like our relationship was expanded by L, and he and I held hands and kissed, too. It was weird, but I liked it. I liked them that happy and I liked it when they told each other “I love you”. I don’t know what that means or where it may lead us, but it feels right. I would have thought I might feel like losing John, but instead I feel like gaining a new perspective and well, love.L will be with us for some days during september and I can’t wait to meet him again. I know, Love can’t.


Gestern Abend haben John und ich A und M getroffen. Wir waren in einer Bar und haben geredet. Etwas von uns entfernt saßen zwei MĂ€nner und John hat mitbekommen, dass ich einen immer wieder angesehen habe. Er trug einen hellgrauen Anzug, dazu ein weißes Hemd, eine violette Krawatte und Manschettenknöpfe. Eigentlich war er nicht mein Typ, aber ich stehe auf MĂ€nner in AnzĂŒgen oder Uniformen. Als A und M sich verabschiedet hatten, sind John und ich noch geblieben und er hat noch etwas zu trinken fĂŒr uns bestellt. Er sagte, dass er sieht, dass ich den Mann immer wieder ansehe, und ob er mir gefĂ€llt. Ich habe ja gesagt. Manche Schwule behaupten, dass sie es anderen ansehen können, ob sie auch schwul sind, aber ich kann das nicht. Es ist darum einfacher, wenn man an Orten verkehrt, wo man weiß, dass die anderen auch alle schwul sind wie eine Gaysauna. John hat den Mann gemustert und gesagt, er wĂ€re einem Blowjob nicht abgeneigt. Ich habe gelacht und gesagt, dass er spinnt, aber er hat darauf bestanden. Ich sagte nochmal, dass er das nicht wissen kann, aber er sagte nur “Go and find out”. Ich wusste, dass er es ernst meint, aber ich wusste nicht, was ich machen soll. Ich mag es nicht gern, wenn ich nicht weiß, wie der andere auf mich reagieren wird, weil es ja auch MĂ€nner gibt, die sich angegriffen fĂŒhlen, wenn ein Mann sie anspricht. Wir sassen noch eine Zeit da und dann ging der Mann auf die Toilette und sein Begleiter blieb sitzen. “Jetzt!” sagte John und gab mir einen Klaps. Es hat sich angefĂŒhlt wie in einem Traum und ich habe etwas dissoziiert, aber ich bin auch auf die Toilette gegangen. Der Mann stand am Pissoir, ich habe mich neben ihn gestellt. Ich bin nicht gut, andere anzusprechen, aber aus der Zeit auf der Strasse kann ich Augenkontakt. Es geht immer sehr schnell, wenn der andere will, oder es geht gar nicht. Gestern ging es sehr schnell. Wir sind in eine der Kabinen gegangen. Er sagte, er hat nicht viel Zeit, und ich gab ihm das Gummi, das ich immer in der Geldbörse habe. Ich habe gedacht, dass es mir nicht gut tut, wenn ich das mache, aber es war wie Auto fahren. Ich habe das nicht verlernt und ich fand es geil. Als er gekommen war, gingen wir aus der Kabine, er wusch sich die HĂ€nde und ging raus. Genau da kam John rein. Er grinste mich an und fragte, ob es geschmeckt hat. Ich musste lachen. Wir hatten Sex in der Kabine und ich habe mich gut und berauscht gefĂŒhlt. Auf dem Weg nach Hause habe ich ihn gefragt, ob er den Mann kannte und ob es abgesprochen war, aber er kannte ihn nicht. (Love, seems like they’ve got you on tumblr LOL)

Another Way Of Eating

Because it all went a little bit too well with my new diet, Love decided to add on to it to make it more annoying for me. Yesterday I had prepared some pasta with olive oil, garlic and parsley and a salad for dinner and John brought a fresh bread with him, when he came home from work. All seemed to be quite normal, but when he sat down, Love took away the cutlery. I looked at him and he softly said “fold your hands behind your back, then you may eat”. I was like “what?”, but he only smiled. “I need a fork, I dunno….”. He kept smiling. “Look, either you’ll eat your dinner that way or, if you choose to deny it, I’ll have to stuff you later on. Your decision”. He began to eat.

Stuff me? Sure, we had talked about it. There’s a stuffing-fetish I had never heared about before, but two weeks ago I came upon a tumblr site run by a guy who likes to stuff himself, but is looking for someone to do it. Stuffing consists of feeding your “feedee” with food that’s high in volume such as bread oder mashed potatoes, but it also can constist of food that’s high in calories so that the feedee is forced to gain weight. It made me horny in a strange way, but I had thought I had managed to keep my thoughts to myself, but of course John had looked that through. It’s one of the worst things I can imagine, but yet one of the kinkiest. I don’t know if I want it. I fear it.

So I lowered my head over the bowl and began to eat. My hair fell forward, but when I wanted to grab it, John reminded me to fold my hands behind my back. “But my hair?”. “Guess it’ll get dirty”, he smiled. “Just try not to eat it instead”. Uhm, ok. It was gross. I really tried to eat that way I would not smear myself, but it didn’t work well. The pasta was quite easy to eat, when I reached for it with my tongue, but Love insisted I eat the salad and the bread, too. I had it all over my mouth, my nose and chin and was not allowed to wipe me clean. It was that moment when Master prohibited me to clean myself that I became aware of my horniness. I don’t know why but it turned me on not being allowed to eat properly. Guess it might be because of my father.

John examined my dish and told me to lick it clean. I did and felt even hornier. He smiled. “You liked it, huh?”. I nodded and he smiled. “Guess what? We’re having dessert!”. He put a slice of mango in another wide bowl which perfectly adhered to the bottom and covered it with almond milk and soy whipped cream. There was no chance eating it without ruining the rest of my face. The milk came up my nose, it splattered my chin and wet my shirt. Love came to my side and began rubbing my cock through the trousers while I had my face in the bowl. It was odd, but I was so aroused I came instantly. It was very intense. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it.

When I finished dessert, John told me to take off my boxers and had me lick them “clean”, which actually means I replaced sperm by milk. Again I got a hard-on. I was completely helpless and did not know why it turned me on that much. Love whispered to me while he fucked me hard and I was out of myself. I had always hated to be called animal names, but yesterday it totally freaked me out when he said I’m a pig. But moreover he advised me to eat all my meals for the next three days that way. And I am allowed to masturbate afterwards. Ugh.

I really don’t know what’s happening, but I have not been that aroused for a very long time, which is quite a surprise because I get easily turned on. Ugh.

VerĂ€nderungen mit Lord Shiva

Ich habe schon lange nichts mehr ĂŒber Lord Shiva geschrieben, aber ich weiß selbst nicht wieso. Ich mache fĂŒr ihn noch immer Puja, aber es hat sich verĂ€ndert. Ich bin mir sicherer geworden und ich glaube auch nicht mehr, dass er von mir denken könnte, dass ich ein Taugenichts bin, weil ich nicht mit dem hinduistischen Glauben aufgewachsen bin und mir alles selber beibringen muss. Lord Shiva ist zu mir sehr freundlich und er ist geduldig und trotzdem fordert er Sachen von mir, wenn er sie wirklich will. Ein Thema, das immer wieder kommt, ist Ekstase. Lord Shiva ist ja auch der Gott des Ekstase und er tanzt die Welt in das Leben und dann zerstört er sie wieder. Mir fĂ€llt es sehr schwer, in Ekstase zu kommen, weil ich versuche, sehr kontrolliert zu sein. Ich habe immer Angst, dass ich in der Ekstase alle Kontrolle verliere, und dass dann schlimme Dinge passieren. Ich weiß auch nicht welche, aber die Angst ist einfach da. Beim Sex kann ich noch am ehesten in Ekstase kommen, weil ich es gewohnt bin, John die Kontrolle zu ĂŒberlassen. John sagt, ich kann mich auch daran gewöhnen, Lord Shiva die Kontrolle zu ĂŒberlassen. Ich glaube, es stimmt, aber es braucht Übung und Vertrauen. Vor allem Vertrauen, denke ich.

W und ich treffen uns jetzt regelmĂ€ĂŸig und machen gemeinsam Puja. Ich war erstaunt, dass Hinduismus und Voodoo ganz gut passen, weil es sich immer gut anfĂŒhlt, wenn wir gemeinsam mit unseren Göttern reden, fĂŒr sie singen und rĂ€uchern oder Feuer machen und ihnen opfern. Ich habe viel von W gelernt. Er ist schon immer mit Voodoo aufgewachsen und es war ganz normal fĂŒr ihn, und er ist ganz natĂŒrlich im Umgang mit seinen Göttern. Er sagt, dass Jesus zum Beispiel gerne Reis mag, und Lord Shiva mag es auch, vor allem sĂŒĂŸ und mit Karotten und Rosinen drin. W hat mir gezeigt, wie man KrĂ€uter und BlĂŒten miteinander mischen kann, damit man eigenes RĂ€ucherwerk hat, und wenn wir uns treffen, bringt er seine Sachen mit und ermuntert mich, einfach das zu mischen, was mir einfĂ€llt. Manchmal riecht es komisch, aber dann erklĂ€rt mir W, was ich besser machen kann.

W arbeitet auch mit Siegeln und Zeichen und ich habe mir ein Zeichen fĂŒr Lord Shiva ausgedacht. Ich hatte Angst, dass es blasphemisch ist, aber es scheint gut zu sein. Ich habe es auf ein StĂŒck Holz gemalt und es liegt entweder auf der Fensterbank bei den anderen Sachen oder ich nehme es mit, wenn W und ich uns treffen. Ich habe mir auch eine kleine Bronzestatue von Lord Shiva gekauft. Sie ist nur ein paar Zentimeter hoch und ich verwahre sie in einem Beutel oder sie steht auf dem Fensterbrett.

Ich habe versucht, besser zu meditieren, aber ich schaffe es nicht. Ich habe Angst vor dem Fallen, und manchmal wird mir schwindelig, wenn ich die Augen zu mache und mich konzentriere. Dann bin ich direkt wieder raus. W sagt, ich kann auch anders meditieren, vielleicht mit Singen oder beim RÀuchern, wobei mir das noch nie passiert ist. Ich glaube, es ist gut, dass Lord Shiva mit mir ist, weil er mir viel StabilitÀt gibt. Er ist ganz anders als ich und es tut mir gut, mit ihm Kontakt zu haben.

Cumming Again

This morning when Love and I sat at the table, he had a little surprise for me. “It’s a nice day. What do you think about cumming today?”. Of course I was pleased and of course it was not ment that pleasurable. After we had a walk in the woods (no hiking, only walking hand in hand and enjoying ourselves, talking) and a cup of tea, John told me to undress and go to bed. He followed me and came to my side. “Masturbate”, he demanded, and I did. It did not take long to have me there. “May I cum, Sir?”. “Yes, you may.” I did and it was splendid. I let my hand rest on my breast, but Sir said “Go ahead”. Uhm, ok. So I got my hand back to my cock and went on, and it was very intense at that point of time. This time it took longer, but again I felt like I wanted to cum. May I cum, Sir?”. “Come for me, son”. I did. It was not as intense and fulfilling as the first orgasm, but I enjoyed it anyway. But I began to feel a bit weak. Usually I’m only allowed to cum once, if at all. Again I wanted to pause, but John insisted: “Go ahead”. Ugh!

“Uhm, Sir, it might help if you would be so kind to…uhm, touch me a bit?”. He just smiled, but did nothing, so I went on masturbating. This time it was beginning to be annoying and a bit itchy and I had run out off kinky thoughts that may have helped to increase my horniness. No surprise it took long, perhaps 20 minutes, but I reached the summit. “May I cum again, Sir?”. “Yes, go on”. The consistency changed from milk to a sort of watery milk. It was very intense, almost a bit painful. This time I did not wait for him to tell me to go on, I just did. Love only smiled. In the meantime I had gotten very hot and was sweating. My shirt stuck to my skin and I was panting like a dog in the sunshine. “Uhm, Sir, I don’t know if I can do it –

He interrupted me. “Of course you can do it. You will do it, right?”. Sure, right. My arm began to hurt, so I changed to the left hand. Masturbating with the wrong hand doesn’t make cumming any easier, but I just continued. “Are you enjoying it?” he asked. “Uhm, well, to be honest…It is…very demanding, Sir, and I would appreciate it if you could just-

“Don’t even think about it, son. Go on.” I did. It took an eternity to cum and this time it was that intense that it really hurt. I was only able to give a poor amount of quite clear water. “Mh, looks like you’re having more of a cunt than a cock, boy”. “Yes, Sir”. “I’ve got a pretty little something for ya, cuntboy”. I don’t know where he had hidden that lace panty he was fantasizing about the last week, but suddely it was there. A white panty for woman. For sexy women, I guess, although I’m resistent to them. He did not have to say any more, I pulled it over and tried not to ruin it at the very same moment with all the sperm on my belly, but Love took care for the panty to get dirty all the way. “Mh, nice, son. Looks like you have ruined your panties”. “Yes, Sir. Please excuse me, Sir”. “Oh, no need for excuses. I know you can’t to any other, can you, cunt?”. “No, Sir”. “See? Now go ahead”.

I pulled the panty only a bit down, so that I could reach for my cock. It was very sensitive and did not want to cum again. It took me quite a while to get a stiffy, although I was turned on my that panty and John’s words. I managed to get to edge. “May I cum, Sir?” He did not reply. “Sir, may I plase cum?” Again the did not answer, so that I took off my hand in order not to cum without permission. He clicked his tongue when he saw my cock pulsing. “Such I pitty, you missed the moment”. “Yes, Sir”. “Sorry ’bout that, I was deep in thought. Go on”. Ugh! Yeah, deep in thought how to get me done. I began masturbating again, with my cock already feeling a bit sore. It took forever to get me on the edge again. “May – I – cum – please, Sir?”, I pranted. “Hmmm…I don’t know….”. Ugh! I reduced my movements, but kept on. “Sir, please, would you give me permission to cum again? To uhm, to show my apprecitation of that panty?” He laughed. “Oh, you’re good. So, ok, cum again”. I did and it was really painful, but very kinky at the same time. It was only clear water and it did not squirt out, but dribbled a bit, down on the pants. “Mh, nice”, Love said. “You may pause now”. Pause? Ugh!

He lay beside me, kissed me and let me rest in his arms. I was so done, I almost fell asleep. I noticed he crawled deeper and opened my eyes. He was examintaing the mess I made and my limp cock. When he touched me, I felt like someone had put on the lights. “I told you, I’d suck you off if you wore panties”, he murmured, and suddenly I felt like crying. That was what I had wished for for so long now. “Sir, do you mind doing it another day, when I’m not so…done?”. He smiled. “Yeah, I do mind”. Of course. When he pulled down the panty a bit to welcome my sore cock with his warm and soft mouth, I really shed tears.

Thank you, Love. I’m proud to still wear that panty.


Besides the sexual part of our BDSM-relationship, there’s a part John and I both like very much. From time to time Love comes up with ideas how to make my everyday life a bit more annoying and pleasurable at the same time by introducing new rules or events like the list I had to fulfill during July. For August, John had something very special up his sleeve: a certain diet I have to follow. Everything connected with food is not so easy to handle for me. As I have already written, my father put me on a strange diet. I was not to eat regularly which led to the fact that I stuffed myself with whatever I could find, even garbage, grass and so on. It was a long way for me to develop a more healthy way of eating and digesting. He also made me believe that I’m fat and therefore ugly, which was and still is a lie. I’m wearing clothes at sizes S to L. When my life turned better after my father’s death I had to establish new eating habits which inculded knowing I always had enough food handy and learning about what my body really needed and could digest. Nowadays, I still have some strange cravings, but I can deal with them. John was always very accepting and supported me where he could. On the weekends and in his holidays he likes to cook for us. He encouraged me to get into cooking and my friends W and S helped me as well by providing my with easy recipes for the start. Today, I really enjoy cooking and eating (most times), but the thought of me as being too fat still lingers.

From time to time I get the craze I should adapt my eating habits and try out new diets such as low carb high protein or such. When I start such a diet I know it’s stupid, but I can’t help it. Usually John accepts it, as long as I prepare his food the regular way, but he intervenes when I get to obsessed. On the last weekend I told him I was willing to start a new diet to lose a bit weight. He watched me bewildered when I ate only three carrots and a glass of sauerkraut juice for lunch. When I wanted to eat an apple and a small bowl of salad (no dressing) in the evening, he simple forbid me to eat it. Instead, he invited me to a restaurant and made me eat at least two dishes and drink lemonade. I felt strange afterwards. A bit guilty, but somehow fine. Love did not speak to me on our way home, but when we arrived and had settled onto our couch, he told me that he thinks I should follow a certain diet during August. Instead of losing weight I am supposed to gain at least 3 kilos. Here are the rules:

  1. Five meals per day. No exceptions.
  2. Every meal must contain a bit of every nutritive substance such as carbs, sugars, fat, protein and so on and fill at least a small salad bowl (contains about 200 ml).
  3. Focus on whole grains, fruits, vegetables, herbs.
  4. I must take pictures of everything I eat.
  5. In the evenings when John is at home I must eat some sweets or fatty crips and drink the minimum of one glass lemonade.
  6. I mustn’t dump food once that it is on my plate or vomit after eating.
  7. John reserves the right to stuff me if he thinks I don’t eat enough. Might contain feeding me tablespoons of pure oil or some sliced of bread with water to make it macerate or extra portions of canned pasta or so.
  8. My goal is to gain 3 kg, but he might be ok if it is less. If I lose weight, he will add on to that list and extend this diet to september.

I’m not quite sure about that list and diet although the first days were ok. In the mornings (even before I go to work) I eat rolled oats with some almond milk and a piece of fruit. At about 12 I’m having lunch, most times bread with a spread on it and a tomato. At 4 p.m. I’m having another slice of bread with marmelade and a cup of tea with sugar. We’re having diner together as soon as John’s home from work. At 8 p.m. I usually eat my sweets (turned out to arouse me if John has me in his arms and feeds me with them). A bit later I eat a salad with dressing and another slice of bread or the leftovers from dinner. I usually tend to heartburn, but at the moment I’m fine.

It’s a bit strange, but eating is connected with sexual desire for me. I totally freak out wearing diapers and getting fed a more or less tasteless porridge for children, helpless in Love’s arms.