At the time being, I hate my hair. There’s nothing obviously wrong with it- it’s a gingery shoulder-length bob, extremely resistant towards bleaching and scrunching. But that’s exactly what makes it meh. Being a typical haircut worn by busy students, most milfs and young politicians- it lacks edge and personality.
Before I’ve modelled for Toni & Guy who transformed me into a short haired redhead, I’d had long raven hair for 8 years. Despite my fascination with short avantgarde styles, I feel it’s time to return to long tresses again. With a few twists that will make it unique and rubellish, of course. And so I ordered new hair and now impatiently wait to go through a drastic makeover. Hopefully, it will find its way to my head before the next performance, otherwise I’ll be forced to shave my head.
I guess I won’t spoil the surprise if I say it’s meant to look like a crossover between Poison Ivy and Karen Elson…
In exactly one month, me and my beau will be celebrating a very special anniversary- two and a half years of intense bdsm relationship. Simply recalling all the unspeakable moments we’ve been through is hard enough, let alone enslaving those magical experiences in a cage made of clumsy descriptons. No. Our past is deviously intoxicating in a way that can only be felt, but hardly expressed in any way. Maybe it’s because not all emotions have been given a name yet? For the sake of fluency, I’ll try to find the proper words though.
Sometimes things were so hardcore we made clips from kink.com seem like romcoms. Sometimes the intensity lay in subtle details that ranged from sensual body worship to hourlong asphyxia. Most of the time, we would unabashedly ride the wave of each other’s bizarre fantasies until we’d drown in the abysmal ocean of mutual gratification, liberated in our sinful haven. The closest I’ve ever been to my Dominant self? When his doe eyes shined with gratitude and fascination, every single time I took him places his imagination never dared to go.
My lover, my pet, my friend, my undoer- he’s been highly potent in all those aspects. As all longterm bdsm relationships, ours too wasn’t spared of challenges that included age disparity and initial divergence of sexual preferences. One step at the time, we embarked on a journey of rediscovery that eventually made two kinksters mold into one D/s being. First safeword, first can of Crisco, first blood spill and first foursome- the process of achieving synergy was equally demanding and rewarding. Though many people judge our lifestyle and tag it as vagrant or profane, we couldn’t care less. I’m convinced that expressing who you are publicly is way more fullfilling than conforming to the illusive normality of being mediocre. Fuck pretence, masks fall off sooner or later anyway. Time to go to bed, where my cuddly pet awaits to chase away the pensiveness…My sweet boy, oh how I’ll miss you.
My story begins with three sweaty studs lying naked beside me. Before your heart skips a beat, let me disappoint you- I was in a sauna. Relaxing turkish bath followed by a jaccuzzi and a long swim in a hot pool, to be precise. My pampering Friday was fabulously cool until I got home and tried to log in to Facebook. Attempt one- login failed. Convinced there’s been a mistake, I retype my username and password. Again and again. Finally, after seventh attempt, non-empathic screen staring blankly at my baffled face lets me know that my account has been disabled. WHAT??
Apparently, someone reported my photos as obscene and perverted. Not that I’m surprised, given that majority of photos I’ve created over the past few years feature essentials of fetish attire: skintight latex, extreme heels, tightlaced corsets, opera gloves and fully fashioned stockings… Thrillingly provocative? Well yes! Worthy of such a drastic penalty? Hell no! But since I’m not easily unnerved, I’m certainly not getting upset over some pea-brained dick who dislikes my fetish (life)style. In fact, I’d like to thank that person granted with abysmal prejudices for helping me realize that the new kind of war is on. Say goodbye to freedom of personal expression and welcome the golden age of cyber fascism. Facebook, you have disappointed me so. Becoming an FB outcast was the proverbial last drop that led me to tumblr. So here it is, an uncensored fetish and bdsm blog, first of its kind in Croatia.
So what should you expect from me? Nothing pretentious really. I’ll simply open the door to my private realm of bizarre erotica. Amazing experiences I’ve acquired while travelling around Europe, real life interactions with fetish, fashion and fantasy, discussions on socially awkward topics, shops / clubs / people recommendations…And of course pictures. Lots of drop-dead eye candy. If you consider yourself a kinkster too, please spread the word and help me promote freedom of personal expression.
What better way to conclude this entry than with the “obscene and perverted” photo that got me disabled?