Elust #105

Photo courtesy of Mrs Fever

Welcome to Elust 105

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #106 Start with the rules, come back May 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

I lost my sexuality for a year.

Stolen Penis

Bright English Mornings

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Flavour of Femme

She Teaches Sex Ed!

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~


You really should consider adding your popular posts here too
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!


Erotic Fiction

Game On
Rites of Passage Training – Sensual Details.
More than Friend’s: Chloe’s video
Molly: The First
Your Canvas
Sometimes I talk too much
His Dirty Rhythm
In case you didn’t get fucked last night.
The Girl in Fishnets

Erotic Non-Fiction

Let’s Play a Game
Abandoning the Sofa
Smacked around a bit
Fuck You [Redacted]

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Meet The Desperate Eye Of Censorship
The Catastrophe of Ageing

Body Talk and Sexual Health

What it’s like to model nude for art classes
Tip Your Artists

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Life… grief, depression and disability
Living with Chronic Lyme Disease

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

The edge of glory
F/m Reader Q&A (audio with full transcript)
Teasing & Torment
Guest Post: Interview with Violet Fawkes


A landmark event for MPB – Public Play






Flavour of Femme

I spend a pretty significant amount of time thinking about my life and the direction I’m taking with it, that is to say, I’m always examining myself. I doubt this is something unique about me, but I’ve really never met someone else who is always analyzing themselves the way that I do.

Most recently it’s been about all of this time I simultaneously have and don’t have in regards to transitioning, going back to school, and starting my life again after I’m finished with my work obligation at the end of the year, specifically the logistics of everything weighted against my level of overall happiness. I’m not foolish enough to believe that I’m leaving the stressful environment that I live in now for something much easier, no, I’m simply replacing it with perhaps something much more soulfully difficult, for the happiness of my future self.

The reality is that I’ll never pass the way that I’d like to pass. Naysay or pick apart my position how you will, this is how I feel: I’m simply too large. My head hits the doorway when I leave a room, and my shoulders are almost half a length wider then that of the average woman. This isn’t a deterrent to me, but it doesn’t do me any favours either.

I’m left to determine the level of grief I’m willing to bear from here. Do I present openly at the beginning of my transition, the start of school next year, knowing fully to myself that I’ll look every part a man in a dress, or do I cloister myself until I feel that I can at least pretend to fit in. I can choose to be happy for myself and sad for how the world views me from both sides.

Perhaps the best option is to be patient. There are things that I can work on while my body changes that can help me more than just clothing: my voice, my mannerisms, my habits. Realistically, if I sound like a girl, and look like a boy, I’m pretty okay with that scenario. I can have a French manicure and wear flattering boy clothes, and that isn’t so bad either.

Going back to school will be a good place for this to happen, too. Much better than the awkwardness of work, higher education is a place where many people are changing themselves already. I might stick out, but there are bound to be others who stick out too, and, well, I already know who I am. I get the advantage of going back to school as an adult with all the learned experiences a student sans work has not yet had the displeasure to deal with. It might not change how other people are towards me, but it certainly helps the way I think about events, deadlines, and drama.

I have to remember that I can’t do everything I want to do at once. I will eventually be more comfortable in my body and in the clothing I’d like to wear, and I will eventually make myself wear them in public regardless of my level of comfort. I can incorporate aspects of womanhood in my life slowly, but I can also take the reins and force myself into discomfort for the good of myself later on, too.

This isn’t going to be easy for me, but I can make it easier by planning and preparing myself. I can rely on Eiren and my support network, too, but I have to be prepared to rely on myself as well. Women are strong, and I will be a strong woman.


Focus on what’s important, Evelyn.

Sinful Sunday

Elust #104

Photo courtesy of Brigit Writes

Welcome to Elust 104

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #105 Start with the rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

A Wank and a Spank

The S Word

At My Feet


~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Boarding School Survivor


~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Ode to the 69


You really should consider adding your popular posts here too
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Ode to the 69
Know your Power…Cum in Me!
Who Holds the Power?
C’est finis.

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

How To Melt An Ice Cube
Time ~ Looking Back & Travelling Forward

Erotic Fiction

Once in a lifetime… or maybe not?
When the William Comes to Port
The Nervous Game
Gypsy Traveler
#PegaPolitician: Melania’s Trigger
A Love/Hate Relationship with Changing Rooms
Maddie and her girl



Body Talk and Sexual Health

Being Daddy

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

I’ll scratch yours
Come Home

Erotic Non-Fiction

50 Shades Has Nothing On Us!


Sex Bloggers Talking About… Sex Blogging




Being Daddy

The first time Eiren called me Daddy, I wasn’t a big fan… but like most little things in our relationship, it became this increasingly accurate identity within itself.

Eiren has always had this ability, or maybe it’s just that I’m just so malleable to her, where she could sense the things I was missing in my life without me realizing that it was something important to me. Another good example of this was touch. Hugging, kissing, cuddling, I really just didn’t like any of it, because I wasn’t used to it at all. I can remember being loved as a child, but I can’t remember ever having love unless I asked for it.

I can remember sitting on the couch with my mother putting her arms around me and my sister on either side of her, but I can’t remember any time that this happened without a prompt from one of us.

And so, Eiren could sense this, and while I was in my own process of helping turn her life into one that she could continue to live in, she was turning mine into one that I could be happy in. Eiren knew from talking to me, from being such a good friend to me, that I was in desperate need of love. Even when I hated being snuggled, she’d order me (like a puppy who doesn’t want to be held) to stay where I was while she loved on me in one way or another. Horrible, right?

Being Daddy was much the same way. In the beginning of our relationship I was her caregiver and I will never stop being that in some form or another. Eiren is a tall woman at 5’10”, but at 6’7″ I am still much larger than her, and for someone who’d always been bigger than everyone because of either her weight or height, I am a comfort to her, she being able to fit in my arms easily.

I am her protector, her strong companion and slave, but I am still Daddy. I take care of her when she is sick, and make my Mistress do the things she doesn’t always want to do because of stubbornness, because that’s what Daddy will always do.

Most importantly, though, I’ll always be honest to her. I’ll always ask for help when I’m sick, or hurting, or when I need more of that love that I originally didn’t know how to handle, and so I share my life with her and every hardship, knowing that the things that I say might be difficult, or cause her to worry, or even hurt her, because I know how important it is for her and I to have that transparency and trust in one another.

It doesn’t mean that hard facts become softer, though, and when I tell Eiren things I’m often worried or scared, but I am honestly just so, so lucky to be married to the most wonderful woman on earth. I am lucky to be owned by her, I am lucky to be her best friend, and I am lucky that I have the opportunity to spend the rest of my life with her, for her.

I’ve been going to real therapy for a few months now with an understanding of gender psychology, and I’ve finally understood what the feelings I’ve had about myself and the things that have made me the most comfortable in my life were pointing me to the conclusion that I’m transgender, and that the difficult path ahead of me is unavoidable if I am to continue being happy with my life, despite all of the hardships and changes that will happen from here on out. Eiren understands, and supports me, and continues to love me just the same as if this had never happened. She really, really is too good for me.

I’ll always be Daddy, though, because that’s what she and I have always needed in our life together, and she knew this from the very beginning.

Bleeding Heart

It’s like there’s a sucking wound in the middle of my chest, where I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop and bleed out before I can stop it. Fairytales only happen in books and movies, so the happiness I have sometimes can’t always be real. I wake up in a wild panic, I check my iPad to see if we’re still connected through Skype, then I quickly check the news, already trying to prepare myself for the very worst. My imagination is exploding, sending me into yet another spiral of doubt. Am I awake? Will it be even worse if I wake up?

Doubt is a funny thing. I have moments of “I can do this and everything is going to work out! They aren’t going anywhere.” then in the next instant, all that crashes around me and the hole in my chest gets a little bit bigger and the doubt eats at me more. We’ve had some issues in our marriage before, you can find their earlier posts here that can explain all of that, but with doubt constantly trying to humour me, it’s hard to shake. Even years later.

As much as I would love to say how completely confident I am and tell you how I know that it’s worked out for the better, the wound in my chest will always be there for me, burning and churning threatening to devour whats left of my happiness. I’ve rarely known what happiness was or that I could achieve anything other than be a special kind of burden until I eventually either took my own life, or died.

I have always been into kink and the idea of owning someone has always been something I wanted, even if my past relationships were nothing similar to how I own someone now. It wasn’t until my slave, this special slave, came crashing their way into my life so many years ago. We haven’t had the perfect marriage, we haven’t had the perfect TPE relationship, and we still have so much to learn. A lifetime to learn. I yearn to explore everything about who they are, I want to achieve subspace with them, but each time we really play I keep hoping that I’ll be the one that gets them to subspace, just another thing on my list of things that make my doubt myself.

Am I not what he needs as a dominant if I can’t even get him to subspace after all this time?

If I had a penny for every time I have thought they would be so much better with someone else I’d be so rich right now. I needed this out of my head and this part of my life I cannot share anywhere else. I have other parts of social media that is all mental health and weight loss, but I cannot truly talk about my relationship the way I need too anywhere else but here. I digress as usual, something my slave and I share commonality with, always struggling to get to the point… It’s just hard to write about how I cannot shake the feeling that although they have tried their best to reassure me that I’m the one, that they will never leave myside… I wonder secretly if its only because they cares for me so much, that they would forsake their own happiness to keep me happy.

I don’t want that, all I’ve ever wanted was for them to have the best in life even if it had to be without me. I feel I owe them so much already, and if being without them would destroy me, I would gladly step back if it meant they could get everything I feel they deserves for once.

This sounds so fucked up written down, but this is what the record plays in my brain. I smile, laugh, tell some jokes… I’m breaking on the inside, but the show must go… the show must go… the show must go on.

I’m not much for giving up, I have survived 100% of my worst days so far, I suppose a few more won’t kill me either, but I sit here tonight hoping that this wound will someday go away, trying to take deep breathes, trying to stay calm, but I will end up taking something for my anxiety when I give up on my pride and relent.

I’ve realized that I am a mental sadist and physical a masochist. I will push my body until I simply can’t do anymore. Working out until I hurt is the only pain that distracts me from the other things that are there.

I’m not having a good mental week, lots of shitty nightmares about my pretty baby so far away.

I’ll be there soon.

Elust #101

Photo courtesy of Candysnatch Reviews

Welcome to Elust 101

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #102 Start with the rules, come back January 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!


~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Email from my ex-boy


Two’s Company, Three’s A Crowd


~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Why should we call ourselves sinners?
Repeated Patterns

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Fuck Yourself


You really should consider adding your popular posts here too
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Fiction

The Red Chair ~ A Cuckold’s Story – Part 1
Caught Part 3: the punishment
Get up! Stand up!
Chastity Fiction: Aaron & Melissa

Body Talk and Sexual Health

The 39 Days
Do Not Delete

Thoughts and Advice on Kink & Fetish

Tooth and nail
Event Horizons
Bee’s wax

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Sex Q&A: An Adventure into Ass Play
She was poisoned by your utter indifference.
Orally Ambiguous



Erotic Non-Fiction

Walk in, beat him, leave
What Is My Dream Trying to Tell Me?
Thought of Her
The Biter



Can anyone be too attached? Can an owner of something, someone, be far too dependent on their possessions?

These questions plague me. Family, friends, and the community in my private life keep telling me how my codependency isn’t healthy, that I shouldn’t be this affected. I’m reminded that I need to learn to stand on my own this year and how it is a silly thing to be utterly broken with him gone.

His service to me is so different than what I’m used to with other people. It’s almost as if he were an an emotional support animal, one that happens to be human. One who wants me to chain, cage, beat, degrade, and fuck him stupid. It’s confusing to so many people in my life why he is so important to me and to not be able to feel his touch aches me.

My depression, even with medication, is in full swing. All I wish to do is sleep and cry. To eat my pain, but no amount of food could fill the void inside me. No amount of anything can satisfy my lust for his skin. It’s like being thirsty and no matter how much you drink nothing can quench it. I know that it isn’t forever and I understand why he has to be away, but why do people think that any of these reasons can keep the coldness from settling in?

This vast emptiness that threatens to swallow me whole suffocates me in a room full of air and no means to breathe.

Do my words hurt him? Do I dare show him how badly I’m broken? What possible good could it do? How does showing my weaknesses to the world help at all? How does it benefit my boy to let him know how badly I’m hurting without him?

I can be strong. Brave. I can put on my good face for the day and if it cracks I’ll just add more glue to keep up appearances… but when he’s at work, or I’m alone again, the mask shatters and I have to try to keep the pieces close so I can glue it back together for the next performance. Day after day, night after night.

“How are you Eiren?” The answer is always simple.

I’m okay.

Now I change the subject, I don’t want to talk about how I am.

If I gave a true answer, I’m not sure how many of the people who want to support me would still be there. No one wants to hear how bad that I’m hurting, and I don’t blame them.

Let’s try again: “How are you Eiren?”

I’m downing in my own thoughts, I’m breathless and aching, I’m bruised, battered and broken…

I need my boy, I need to touch him, I need sex, to be filled, slapped, fucked. I need to cry.

I desperately want to use every part of his body to hurt him just as much as I hurt. I want to cook and cuddle him, smothered in kisses as we lay in our sexual aftermath. His heart fluttering, mine beating slow.

I miss my boy.


It’s not like this feeling is new, it’s not much different but the familiar sting has settled in. It tugs on me like a riptide constantly trying to drag me further away each time I let my guard down.

There are moments that I feel my feet firmly planted, the pulling stops and I make my way towards the shore. But it never lasts it is like time stops in an instant and I slip again I’m going under.

Yelling for help as the salty water fills my lungs my breath stolen instantly… my eyes blurry the shore no longer in sight …. but I struggle weak and exhausted from the last bout… My friends and family swear they only looked away for a second.

They can’t understand the hold this all has on me, why can’t I just deal like everyone else we all have problems everyone’s lives suck “just stop being such a drama queen, stop your excuses, get a hold of yourself grow the fuck up ! “

whispering She just in one of her “moods”, I’m sure she’s just hungry !? Will taking you out to eat Eiren make you feel better, or I can make you something hunny? What will pacify you with so you will be easier to deal with today?

“You know I miss when you were happier always making us laugh!…” But when you are mentally ill you have to become an actress…So the award for not showing who you really are or how you truly feel goes too…. Eiren 38 years in a row! rounds of applause, standing ovations, curtain calls.. don’t worry the show is on again tomorrow too…

Okay give in take medicine…. Eiren just try it … fix it… become comfortably numb. Oh well that’s not working try this one, in the meantime what else can we do to help pacify you? Oh I know FOOD -candy, cake, ooo or cupcakes, chocolates, Starbucks, or hey let’s go out to eat!

Still drowning … but with a big ole smile on my face and a smear of chocolate on the same sleeve I used to dry my tears.

You are just lazy get a hobby, I have hundreds…. I haven’t the energy to even enjoy them. Better yet workout that always makes you happy, ignore the damage and keep pushing… get some injections to fix that or to numb this, let them burn some nerves or try this pill, maybe drink this until you feel NOTHING…

While still being dragged but it’s less noticeable, the tears swell and I swallow them down with more meds and a bit more food.

Be stronger he’s only leaving for, little while you’ve got this! You are just making it harder on him you know! But how much stronger do I need to be, I’ve survived so much already?

I’ve been bullied since I can remember, especially in school as I was taller than everyone in my class including the boys. I was also much heavier than everyone else so of course I stood out. If that’s not enough I started acting out constantly because I would rather be sent home then to deal with what was going on there. Also I’d like to point out my teachers completely ignored me being bullied.

As back in those days it just gave you tougher skin right of passage not a big deal! So I had kids put gum in my hair, they would hit me they often tripped me, I also can’t tell you all the times I’ve been spit on. Let’s just say that being called fat was one of the kindest things my schoolmates called me. Also I learned to be seen not heard because back then you were still allowed to be paddled and I was often… Enough sometimes I’d have bruises but that’s not something you’d speak about and sadly my parents were far too busy to care anyways.

Let’s not talk about school anymore those days are long gone let’s just say middle school and high school weren’t any better for me. Then if that weren’t enough I found myself in yet another hellhole called Job Corps. Being thrown into a harsher environment I didn’t understand. I was from such a small town. I had never encountered anything like that before in my life! Guess what? As a sort of induction I had everything I brought with me stolen, within the year I spent there. I also had the pleasure of enduring plenty of mental and physical abuse, last but not least let’s not forget being raped but ?.. I always just love to play the victim right?

People often ask me how I ever ended up being over 500 pounds I tell them metabolism, you know bad eating, and of course no exercise being in a wheel chair and all. Yet I know deep down inside with what I’ve had to live through I just wanted to die. I just didn’t have enough guts to do it correctly the first few times I tried.

*But the one thing that I could always control was my food it was the only comfort someone like me had. So I used it to not only self sooth, but as a means to end it all. *

Abuse is something that I have always known and been accustomed to I even learned to expect it. It started very early in my childhood but that all ended…. When I met Berkson I was 29 years old and he was the very first person who actually showed me I could have\deserved real love. Though I’ve had relationships before…. if you could call them that! We don’t really need to talk about the things…. or that were done or that I had allowed to happen…. just because I just wanted so desperately for somebody to care for me and I was willing to do anything if somebody would just love me or even pretend too.

Yet I digress…. he has even asked me to be stronger for him! But how is that possible when my safe zone is in essence HIM!? In whatever form and in whatever way he grows and changes for the rest of our lives. He is my comfort and he will always be my home. Just the thought of not hearing him breathe at night, the thump of his steady heartbeat when I lay on his chest. Even the comfort of his warmth when I need it the most, my panic attacks and nightmares being quelled as he pulls me in tight.

How can I be asked or expected to be okay without any of that? Even just little things like picking up his clothes as annoying as that maybe, yelling at him to take out the damned trash… I’m going to miss it with every fiber of my being… I am going to miss it more than anyone can imagine.

Don’t get me wrong we are going to talk constantly, hopefully and eventually I’ll able to go over there and visit… But at this very moment I’m drowning and I can’t seem to stand up! It’s those damned waves that keep crashing over my head. I just keep seeing the shore slip further into the distance. Everyone offers their condolences and of course their opinions telling me it’s going to be OK I’m gonna be just fine! Yet nobody else has to live in my head. It’s just been the two of us for so long, plus this doesn’t help I know it’s hurting him too! But the way he and I express ourselves it’s a bit differently-OK a lot differently!

That doesn’t mean I’m not going to lose it as I watch him going through the gate into that damned plane. Of course I need him to know that I’m going to be OK! I need him to understand that I’m trying my damnedest, to hold my shit together so he won’t have to worry as much. I want him to know that even when I’m drowning that I always know that he’s there waiting for me at the shore. So even when I’m struggling the most while he’s gone, I’ll know I have someone still waiting for me arms open wide. And he needs to know I will always make my way back to him.

I know this is an extremely long post and if you made it this far I appreciate it. I wanted to show what it’s like for a dominant who is actually mentally ill, also lives with chronic pain. Sadly also her world has just been turned completely upside down. Who’s comfort zone just so happens to be going 1,000,000,000 miles away, what makes it even worse it’s going to be for a very long time. But despite everything I’ve gone through, our LOVE and relationship is worth everything and that gives me hope. It also happens that it gives me one hell of a reason to keep fighting to get better in all areas mentioned above. Don’t ever worry I’ll make my way back to the shore no matter what’s made me slip, because I know he’ll always be waiting for me… I will never give up!


I’ve needed this.

Today was an intensely special day for me.

Work was only a half day, so when I surprised Eiren with my being home for the rest of the afternoon, she had plans to give me something special… a beating!

It wasn’t for any indiscretion I committed against her, it wasn’t for some slight somewhere else in our world, it was just because she wanted to hit me, and I suppose she felt this way because, for so many years, we’ve been afraid to really play hard after playing too rough caused us to hurt me more than I was ready to deal with at that point in my life. Coupled with how unsafe and uneducated we were at the time, the recipe for disaster turned into an unsavory meal that left me scared and her traumatized for years.

And so, I was to be hurt. She let me know that there wasn’t going to be a warmup, and she let me know that when it wasn’t hurting so bad in one spot anymore, she would be moving… that my course for today was to suffer for her.

And, wow, let me tell you… it fucking hurt and I loved it.

I actually loved it!

That is so important for me to say, since I’ve always craved pain and envied people who could take it. She was beating me until her hand stung, with my hands tied behind my back and legs scissored between her own, and my whining and begging and yelling wasn’t heeded, but that isn’t to say that safety wasn’t the most important thing here: She stopped multiple times to quiz me on my safe words, on their meaning, and had me practice them whenever she needed to rest her hands. If I didn’t say it loud enough for her, I’d have to repeat it until she was satisfied.

When we finished, I was rewarded with an even better present: helplessness!

Already feeling amazing from all of the endorphins running through me after she stopped, we moved to a position with me sitting on one of her legs with her other pinning me between them. Her left hand pulled down hard on the binds that held my hands and the other found it’s way to my… Or, should I say, her cock.

Wow. There aren’t any other words to really describe how this made me feel, truly, because I’ve never felt truly powerless when in any type of bondage. Cling wrap, rope, straps, and cuffs… This position that we found actually made me vulnerable to her, and best of all, completely at her mercy.

Of which there was absolutely, positively none.

And I’ve needed this. I write this to you as someone who feels that they’ve just been introduced to the world’s best drug, I’ve always needed this from Eiren.

The confidence she had when she hit me, the happiness she had when she tortured me, the sadism she had when she forced my head down to again clean up every drop of liquid that she allowed to escape from my body, and the smile that painted a masterpiece across her beautiful face.

I’ve needed this, I’ve needed this all of my life, but most importantly, I’ve always needed this from her.

And I think she’s just getting started.