I have my own fantasies. A lot of them are the product of an overactive imagination that’s been spoiled by a lot of real life fruition. It’s within my power to make my fantasies into realities so naturally I’m becoming greedier; letting my mind run unfettering into the depths of absurdity, powered by old-fashioned, pure, hedonistic sadism. I don’t want to hurt you in any old pedestrian way.

I want to wound you. You’ll tongue the hole I leave in you so you can enjoy the dull ache later. My ecstasy is the whimper that escapes your muffled lips. Pure sadism means I want it all- tears, confessions, cruel & unusual games that end in bloodletting. This is the shit that gets my motor running, I can’t help that so why deny it?

I openly share that I have ADHD with my fan base because they need to know they’re dealing with a person who makes six connections to the subject before they’ve managed one. This particular difference in cognition makes high stakes power exchange (or fantasy, if you’re deprived) vibrant & easily accessible, if not downright necessary. I’m uninterested in slap and tickle. I want to pull you under until you’re suffocating, only to let you up for taste of air before dragging you back under- however that game takes form that day.

What won’t you do for me?

That is the question.

Let me see how many needles I can fit in your fistfifi? Can I rip the skin enough to force you to play the stranger? May I make you bleed? Will I make you cry? Once you check the boxes, your fate is sealed. I will never drag you under without your consent but you may find it difficult to say no to my deceptively sweet face. What can you take? What are you willing to do to bring me to ever higher plateaus where sex, power & violence coincide to form my vision of a perfect waltz. A folie a deux.

How will you extend yourself for me & only me? Only one way to find out.