Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Man crack

"Can't live with him, can't live without him."

"He's perfect for me and completely wrong for me."

"He's my disease and my cure."

Occasionally a woman will find a man she becomes completely addicted to. Toxic or not, he becomes her affliction. He's oh so wrong for her, and she knows it, but he's like crack - dangerously addictive - and she can't stay away.

It seems lately I've noted a couple of girlfriends going through this. Of course this has NEVER happened to me. Ever. Seriously.


My first experience with man crack was my college boyfriend. He wasn't my normal pretty boy, athletic and sociable. It didn't matter that I had a boyfriend at the time either. I was inexplicably drawn to him and instantly addicted to him.

Quickly I grew to love him with an intensity that surprised me. The very independent young woman I'd become found herself unable to be away from him. I couldn't wait to see him in between classes, couldn't wait to get him back into my bed.

I vividly remember being across the room from him and feeling a physical loss at not being near him. And when I was near him, I couldn't seem to get close enough. If I could have crawled inside him, I would have.

My ex husband was nearly as addictive, at least in the time before we were married. I couldn't get enough of him. I can remember on more than one occasion "feeling him" enter a room as if just being in his proximity provoked a physical reaction in me.

My FMT is the latest addition to my man crack experiences. He's completely wrong for me in so many ways yet I cannot shake my addiction to him even now, nearly a year after my first "hit."

Our chemistry is palpable. Sometimes I feel like it's a physical force all its own. To be near him is inexplicably intoxicating. Simply having his arm around me snuggling during a movie is like foreplay.

Having man crack in your life is a double edged sword. When you're getting your fix, when you're feeding your addiction, everything is beautiful, exhilarating and perfect and you forget all of the reasons why your man crack is dangerous. Then when he's gone, when things don't work out, you're left with terrible withdrawal symptoms. You feel anxious for no apparent reason and you feel crazy for not being able to walk away from what is clearly something very bad for you.

Man crack is a real addiction not just for me but for my friends. We've spent hours pondering why intelligent women such as ourselves can't seem to just walk away from our man crack when we KNOW the perils of our addiction.

Being addicted to something, to someone, means you're experiencing feelings you cannot control. As much as I look forward to finding THE perfect sub, that one who trips all my triggers, whose submission I crave more than any others, I sincerely hope he's not man crack.

Cumboy once told me, "You are like a drug (a good one too, Columbian shit - uncut and pure)." I LOVE that! I prefer to be a guy's drug of choice. How's that for a double standard? Eh who cares. I'm in charge. I get to make the rules. :)

Monday, December 28, 2009

Blondes are yummy - my Blonde Brownie recipe

At Reverse Tensionz' December Rope Social, we had a potluck feast of yumminess. I showed a little bit of my domestic side by baking up a couple of batches of my famous Blond Brownies and they were quite the hit. As requested, here's the recipe:

Lilyana's Blonde Brownies

1 cup melted butter
2 2/3 cups packed brown sugar
3 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 cups flour
1 heaping teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
salt (I used 4 or 5 shakes of the salt shaker)
half a bag of semi sweet chocolate chips
roughly chopped pecans - at least 1 cup - I use more

Mix melted butter, brown sugar, eggs and vanilla until creamy. Combine with flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add in chocolate chips and pecans. Smooth batter into a greased 9 x 13 pan or glass dish.

Bake at 350 degrees. The original recipe says bake for 40 minutes but I start checking it at 22 minutes. The secret is not to bake it too long. You want them to be a bit gooey in the middle so the tooth pick test doesn't work. Watch the edges. When the edges begin to turn just a tad more brown that the rest, it's usually done.

Photo by IstariSilver

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

The player gives up dating for sport

Babyboy is a player. He's in his mid 20's and has enjoyed dating lots of girls who he openly admits he easily wraps around his little finger.

It seems to me he enjoys this little sport, dating vanilla girls. He's a good looking guy who prides himself on staying in shape. He says this is because he's a bartender and it helps his tips. I know those tips are mostly from women and, although I haven't seen him at work, would be willing to bet he flirts his way to better tips. And I'm certain he flirts in a way that makes each female feel special.

Yep, he's THAT kind of player. The non-cheesy kind that plays you before you realize you've been played.

I really enjoy knowing that he's out there playing the confident, assertive guy and wooing women when I know deep down all he really wants to do is be my little whore. I REALLY enjoy knowing that.

Then today babyboy tells me he's done dating girls. That he's all mine.

Part of me is thrilled he wants to give up dating for sport for me. But part of me liked knowing he was out there wrapping girls around his little finger. It amused me.

My boy, babyboy

D/s relationship status: former submissive

Relationship status:

Babyboy is one of the first potential submissives I developed a relationship with when I began to consider taking on submissives in the summer of 2008. He's originally from the mid-west and in his late-twenties. He's a bartender and law student.

Read blogs about babyboy.

Friday, December 11, 2009


Unless you've collared or been collared by the significant other of your dreams, you've probably experienced at least some of the frustration I've endured. It seems inevitable. I've made this lifestyle choice and while I really never doubt my choice, I often feel that I've condemned myself to frustration.

It seems as though the moments of frustration are coming more rapidly now. I spend so much time vetting candidates you'd think my dance card would be full of willing playmates. It's not.

I wish I could say it's because I'm too picky. Sure, I have my list of deal breakers (being married, for example) and my list of preferences (intelligent, young, physically fit), but mostly I'm pretty open to at least getting to know most potentials that find me. It just seems that during that process, most candidates turn out to be fakes or flakes.

If they impress and intrigue me after emails, IMs and phone calls, then we attempt to meet in real life. At that point my frustrations are largely centered around scheduling challenges.

Although these first meetings do not make me anxious at all, it seems there is so much pressure riding on things. Will he be hotter than his pics? A girl can only hope! Will there be some chemistry? Will he sit quietly or will he engage me? Will I discover I've wasted hours of my life talking to this boy who will never serve me?

Sometimes I know on the first meeting whether or not I crave a boy's submission. Sometimes I can even tell on the first phone call. Other times I walk away from an initial meeting thinking, "Yeah maybe." And then the frustration is waiting for the next meeting and hoping that I'll get a better reading of compatibility then.

When I've determined a candidate is suitable, when I begin to crave his submission, the next step is to play. At this point scheduling is the only frustration because planning the scene is pure joy. And really, we're talking less about frustration than we are about anticipation.

And then when it happens, when I play with a boy and everything clicks, it's beautiful and magical and it makes me feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. It's like having the whole world at my feet and the frustrations aren't even worth mentioning.

After that the frustration surrounds any extenuating circumstances that keep us from playing again and from spending more time together. Sadly, it seems more often than not, some challenge arises.

I continue to hope that my frustrations will diminish. That I'll find someone who can fulfill my needs and make me physically and intellectually hot for them.

And so I sit here typing up this blog without a sub kneeling at my feet. I know he's out there, longing for this in the same way I do.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Potential subs say the sweetest things

Just one of the many sweet things I hear from potential subs (via IM).

You move me.....
not just Your potential.....
But who You are as a Woman now...
You make my heart race...
and mind swim....
and to just have coffee or tea with You
to see how You throw Your head back when You laugh....
how Your eyes sparkle....
to just listen and watch and listen more to You....

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Forced bi with fireboytoy and pk

I'd told fireboytoy I had something planned for him, a surprise. Of course he'd asked what it was but all I told him was that it was humiliation. He'd messaged me multiple times that day, anxious and aroused, but I refused to tell him what I had in store for him.

I arrived at his suite and spent a bit of time relaxing with fireboytoy, making small talk and increasing his anxiety until I could wait no longer. I had him strip as I unpacked my ropes noting how he looked at the satiny lengths longingly. It had only been a few days and he was ready to be back in my ropes again.

I tied him securely to a chair that I'd positioned in the middle of the seating area of the suite. He must have sensed when I rearranged the furniture so that the chair was in the center that he'd end up being the show, or at the very least a part of it.

I checked his bonds twice, maybe even three times, to ensure they were secure and comfortable. He verbally confirmed this multiple times and finally, after I was confident he would be safe in my ropes, I put the headphones to his iPod in his ears, slipped his blindfold over his eyes and gave him a soft, sensual kiss on the lips.

Minutes later I was kissing pk at the bar to the Mexican restaurant in the same resort. We caught up over margaritas for me, top shelf tequila for him and guacamole for us both. Two rounds and roughly 90 minutes later, we made our way back up the the suite.

I immediately went to fireboytoy who gasped and flinched at my touch. I ran my hands down his arms to check his bondage, then down his legs and back up again savoring how he trembled beneath my fingertips.

Then I went to change into lingerie and chatted with pk as he checked out the suite. I knew from my first scene with fireboytoy that he would be unable to hear precisely what we were saying but I hoped we were being loud enough that even with his earphones in and his iPod playing that he'd know I had someone else with me.

With pk in tow, I made my way back over to the boy so patiently waiting for me and whatever humiliation I had in store for him. I touched fireboytoy, watched him flinch again in surprise, then turned to grin at pk. I removed his earphones but left on his blindfold as I kissed him hard. I straddled his thigh and I know he could feel my excitement as I kissed his neck and shoulder.

pk sat on the sofa grinning and watching me taunt and tease fireboytoy. And then as I stood before the boy, kissing him, I felt pk behind me, licking me and I gasped against fireboytoy's mouth.  If he hadn't guessed there was someone else there with us before, that probably confirmed for him that there was AND that I was REALLY happy about that fact.

I enjoyed pk's attention for a bit as I clung to fireboytoy, sighing into his mouth, then I remembered the purpose of the evening. I left pk on his knees in front of fireboytoy as I circled around him. Letting my long hair slide over his shoulder, I ran my hands down his arms and over his chest as I stood behind him.

"Kiss him here," I said to pk, pointing at a spot on the inside of the boy's knee.

"Yes Mistress," pk said, smiling up at me as he leaned in to kiss fireboytoy's thigh. Fireboytoy may have sighed a bit, but he didn't protest.

"And here," I pointed to a spot on his abdomen.

"Yes Mistress," pk responded. I loved watching pk's full, soft lips kiss fireboytoy's skin.

I must have made pk kiss fireboytoy in a dozen places before I held fireboytoy's erect cock and said, "Kiss him here, right on the head of his cock."

I wish I could recall the exact response fireboytoy had. A gasp? A moan? I can't remember. But it was damn hot. Almost as hot as pk smiling up at me from the boy's cock.

pk was ready to suck fireboytoy's cock but I wanted to savor the moment as long as I could. I moved back to straddling his thigh where I had an excellent view and directed pk to lick and then suck fireboytoy's cock precisely the way I wanted him to.

All too soon fireboytoy whispered, "Mistress, I'm going to cum!" I quickly reached down and squeezed his cock. It was too late to stop him from cumming but not too late to ruin his orgasm.

pk looked up at me, flushed and expectant. "Lick it up!" I snapped at him, and he obediently licked fireboytoy's cum off the chair upholstery between fireboytoy's legs.

I kissed fireboytoy and left him tied to the chair as I showed pk out. A part of me knew I was giving up a chance to have both of them serve me together, in bed, but I wanted to make sure fireboytoy wasn't traumatized by his first forced bi experience. So pk left without fireboytoy ever seeing the face of the man who had just sucked his cock.

I untied fireboytoy and took him to bed to snuggle and do the aftercare thing. Knowing how ruined orgasms make him hornier than not cumming (mostly because I'd given him a ruined orgasm earlier in the week), I shouldn't have been surprised when our snuggling turned into him serving me.

Later, when we talked about the scene, I was a little surprised that fireboytoy seemed so accepting of what had happened. And also at how quickly he'd cum.  Then he told me something that explained both.

When I'd straddled him as he was tied with my wetness against his thigh, he'd felt my excitement. Knowing he was pleasing me and having that evidence pressed so hotly against his thigh had turned something that should have been unsavory for a straight guy into an erotic experience.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I find forced bi unbelievably hot.