Getting off with power.
Getting off with money.
Pain and money. Give in more. Make it faster. Cry more, scream, just abit harder for me.
Hardcore. But what about the subtle things?
I've never... really known how much of a sadist I am.. up until I refused to be SADISTIC to someone.
I said NO. No matter how much you'll pay me, I don't need your money.
You need to give me your money. You need to detach yourself in a way from me.
You need me , you need my sadism. My energy. My vital force.
You need me to feel alive. But I am ALIVE without you.
There I was refusing cash. Cash that were enough to buy myself a car.
People work for those money for months, years maybe. Some even sell themselves for less.
And there I was laughing saying NO. And yet I've never felt more sadistic and fulfilled.
Money lost any meaning to me right there. In that moment. It was just power and I had it all.
I felt perverse for my game. For my discovery and ruthless nature. I was ruthless, I was REFUSING HIM.
I couldn't have been worse. To look at something that could have been mine, to feel it in my every fiber, a man shaking waiting to be crushed , wanting deeply for it, begging me to do it .
And me knowing the best thing I could ever do, is to not do anything at all.
I cursed him. With my act. No one dared to do that to him.
Throughout the years I did everything that was possible and mean to men.
I switched from personas and moods and always found new ways to shake their belief system, drag them closer to me, make them mine forever , brand them with my sick mind so they could never ever forget me.
I did everything I thought that was WORSE until then.
Then I was the WORST. And he knew it. He was terrified.
I've always wondered if perversion is the devil on my shoulder making me creative with my craft of sadism or if it's the other way around. If I'm a sinner and sicker than they are.
The ones bragging of being the weirdest/most fucked up subs/slaves.
I often asked if the clown is evil or the king commanding him in cruel ways to act like one.
The answer wasn't easy to digest.
I was the sickest. Because clowns don't listen to anyone..unless...
I wasn't better for wishing and picturing myself as a dominatrix in leather as a teenager.
Clearly not more pure and innocent for knowing exactly where to hit
Or for feeling their emotions and feeding with it.
If they were clowns then I was the wolf. The BEAST.
The Most Beautiful Devil wrapped in elegant clothes.
With time comes acceptance.
I am me, and in terms of.. how much of . I'd say the highest. Highest there is.
I don't beat people for a living.. but I make them hurt in ways they wish they didn't ever know about.
As for the pain. It's the heart that hurts the most and the mind. Body heals.
POSTED here: http://www.findoms.com/blog/17450/how-high-is-your-sadism-what-about-your-perversion/
Getting off with money.
Pain and money. Give in more. Make it faster. Cry more, scream, just abit harder for me.
Hardcore. But what about the subtle things?
I've never... really known how much of a sadist I am.. up until I refused to be SADISTIC to someone.
I said NO. No matter how much you'll pay me, I don't need your money.
You need to give me your money. You need to detach yourself in a way from me.
You need me , you need my sadism. My energy. My vital force.
You need me to feel alive. But I am ALIVE without you.
There I was refusing cash. Cash that were enough to buy myself a car.
People work for those money for months, years maybe. Some even sell themselves for less.
And there I was laughing saying NO. And yet I've never felt more sadistic and fulfilled.
Money lost any meaning to me right there. In that moment. It was just power and I had it all.
I felt perverse for my game. For my discovery and ruthless nature. I was ruthless, I was REFUSING HIM.
I couldn't have been worse. To look at something that could have been mine, to feel it in my every fiber, a man shaking waiting to be crushed , wanting deeply for it, begging me to do it .
And me knowing the best thing I could ever do, is to not do anything at all.
I cursed him. With my act. No one dared to do that to him.
Throughout the years I did everything that was possible and mean to men.
I switched from personas and moods and always found new ways to shake their belief system, drag them closer to me, make them mine forever , brand them with my sick mind so they could never ever forget me.
I did everything I thought that was WORSE until then.
Then I was the WORST. And he knew it. He was terrified.
I've always wondered if perversion is the devil on my shoulder making me creative with my craft of sadism or if it's the other way around. If I'm a sinner and sicker than they are.
The ones bragging of being the weirdest/most fucked up subs/slaves.
I often asked if the clown is evil or the king commanding him in cruel ways to act like one.
The answer wasn't easy to digest.
I was the sickest. Because clowns don't listen to anyone..unless...
I wasn't better for wishing and picturing myself as a dominatrix in leather as a teenager.
Clearly not more pure and innocent for knowing exactly where to hit
Or for feeling their emotions and feeding with it.
If they were clowns then I was the wolf. The BEAST.
The Most Beautiful Devil wrapped in elegant clothes.
With time comes acceptance.
I am me, and in terms of.. how much of . I'd say the highest. Highest there is.
I don't beat people for a living.. but I make them hurt in ways they wish they didn't ever know about.
As for the pain. It's the heart that hurts the most and the mind. Body heals.
POSTED here: http://www.findoms.com/blog/17450/how-high-is-your-sadism-what-about-your-perversion/