I think that for the majority of people that have been in relationships with me, they feel like I am the one that gives less..or am less than two feet in. That is what I hear.

But there are so many things I have done that would tip that scale in a bigger picture. Sacrifices emotionally and physically.

There are parts of me that seem really proud, very confident, demanding- and then there are parts when the doors are closed where I couldn’t be anything further.


For many many years up until about the past 10 in order for me to get off during sex I would imagine I had a penis and I would HAVE TO- HAVE TO pretend that I had never met them. Stranger sex happened every nite -even if I had a long term relationship with that person. If I didn’t go there mentally it was very unlikely that I would ever be able to cum. That stopped when I was with my first guy  (GUY 1). Not immediately-but I started giving him control. I was no longer the aggressor.


There are some people that love being humiliated during sex. A friend, Trihn, used to work in a dungeon and was a big time dom and said that a lot of people in power would come to her in need of being completed humiliated and emasculated. I don’t favor the feeling of humiliation in ANY way but there is something very very sexy about being submissive to a man in bed. I think that where I am not great about pleasing people or giving them their way in “real life” I can make up for it in the bedroom. I want to be taken-and I am a very willing participant- I am not just going to lay there-but I love being told what to do with force. I love being fucked like the person will throw me away the second they are done with me. I love to be treated like I mean absolutely nothing to them. Like I am their sexual toy and nothing more.

There are few things that gratify me more as a person.

Which sounds crazy.

“I enjoy being belittled in the bedroom”

The moment that becomes apparent to someone in passing conversation it seems incomprehensible. I think people think I am this really wild sex bot-which I don’t mind being- if that’s what they want.

And I think that both descriptions would work just fine. Dominant outside of the bedroom. Submissive inside. Sometimes Dominant inside, but never submissive outside-because fuck that. That just isn’t me.

That isn’t the dark side. That is the pleasure.


I’ve also given more than I should with people I shouldn’t have and where I thought it made me stronger, it has actually fucked me up.

The first REAL crazy I’ve ever been with was a terrible, horrifying, incredible experience. She was absolutely gorgeous, and she knew it. She was a former drug addict and I met her when she sat in the back of my car(to join our mutual friends). My best friend and a few other really close friends and I were getting high, and she sat in my car, and I got out of the driver’s seat (back VIP parking lot) and I walked around to her door to pass the pipe, and she grabbed me from behind the waist-kind of into her- and said “Who are you?” Really aggressively-which both turned me on and caught me by surprise. “Who the fuck are you? You are in MY car.” I met her in a Best Buy parking lot in Riverside the next day. I told her I wasn’t going to have sex with her-which I knew she expected would happen with as aggressive as she was blowing up my phone- and I am pretty confident that I did NOT. I think we made out a little bit and that was it.

I don’t remember much of the beginning. She was living with a very good friend of mine, and just left an addiction and a relationship in Texas. She fell hard-annoyed me by asking me on a regular basis if I was in love with her “yet” – reminded me about how good looking she was on a regular basis. My friends hated her-never wanted her around. Every friend I met of hers would start meeting me separately for a hook up-even work friends-and I wouldn’t always hook up with them-sometimes we just went out together. Or would drive under stars and get high. The posts about her could go on forever-maybe someday they will, but this is more about her crazy. She was addicted to me, and addicted to meth. It got to the point where she would lock out all of our friends, fuck me and shut down from everything else-she lost her job. She lost her mind. She hated the way everyone looked at me. She hated the way people loved me. I was “everyone else’s girl” . One of the most confident women I had ever met broke down into someone who could no longer function. I couldn’t have been more turned off but more afraid for someone’s life.

She was never violent with me, She “kidnapped” me and drove me half way to Arizona and did everything in her power to kill us on the way 120 on the freeway-ran EVERY red light- screamed that she was going to kill us-I was never so scared before but she could never tell . “Keep fucking going. You think you’re so fucking bad ass. This is NOTHING”

She pulled a weapon on me and her roomate(one of my best friends) and he called the cops-she beat the shit out of herself a few times instead of hitting me-but my GOD she wanted to fuck me up.  She would punch her face full force a few too many times. I did everything I could to keep her alive. She kidnapped me and drugged me and kept me in a hotel for a few days, it was one of the only times I had seen my dad cry when he found me. I knew that she wasn’t going to stay alive without me by her side.

One of the last times I saw her, I had to give her pitty sex. She was doing “SO much better”- she would always say that “last beautiful girl” by Matchbox 20 was her song to me. It was playing when I walked in-she looked great but gross to me. I couldn’t stomach her anymore. We fucked on her couch and I left and knew that was IT for me. She humiliated me in so many ways. (another post) She was an embarrassment to me towards to end. But I had to stay friends with her-had to keep checking on her-it was good for her but it was terrible for her. I started dating someone I fell pretty hard for and stopped taking her calls. That was it for her. She said it as my fault and that was the end. The truth was she was a really sick person and I was stretched beyond limit.



Crazy #2

I met her in the hallways of VIP looking for cocaine. I told her I only did Speed. She, Julian and I would spend many many nites together after that.

She had some kind of ties to the German Riverside community-which was HUGE when we were 20-22. I didn’t understand it until her-but it was because of all the coke. INCREDIBLY beautiful women covered the couple bars downtown on the arms of older men-and it was because of their distribution.

She was much MUCH stranger than I ever knew. So much that I was completely dis-interested. She was sexy but FUCKED up.

Anytime I started to show distance, she would do something to get my attention-and it usually worked. She hardly ever showed up in same car, her house was unusually empty. She started renting out office spaces on the second level of bars in Redlands, for her “businesses” and we would go there, and get high, and have crazy sex, and leave. She would say she would have to “Stop in and do a few things in her office” and I slowly realized that was her way of getting us away from everyone. She would tinker with her laptop on her desk for a few seconds, we would fuck, and get high and leave. The offices were empty besides tons of computers and a brand new couch in each one. The group of friends we met her with were no longer around . Except for a dj that lived in San Bernardino- I LOVED him and she knew it, so she seemed to keep him for that purpose. After partying with Julian and I all night she would drive us there and we would go to his basement and he would play for us and she would watch the two of us dance for hours until I stopped and would just lay with her until the next day started.  I became convinced that all these “businesses” were fake and were made to impress me. The rental spaces-to impress me. The cars-to impress me. THE HUNGER was alive and well-she would eventually try to keep me from going out with another woman on an afternoon we shared at the THE LARK- by driving her sports car into the center divider of the 60 freeway. I felt like I died. I had massive amounts of internal bruising (I had to wear a brace) ((it didnt keep me from going out)) The last time I saw her I went to visit her after Chantel and I came back from Oklahoma. I don’t remember what she had of mine or how she contacted me, but I went there- Chantel waited in the car- I had never seen such an insane house- she looked burnt out entirely and the twin that helped deliver Tami’s baby was living there and strung out as she was. I will never forget her laugh. It was something out of a movie and it was anytime she wanted to fucking kill me. She would look at me with extremely wild eyes and start laughing then walk away from me. The one time I followed her she smashed her head into a wall.

I am not sure she would have been better off never meeting me because of the meth. It made a mess of her-the coke already had her crazy enough.

Crazy #3

The reason I allowed violence to continue with #3 is because it was BRUTAL and I didn’t want to imagine it being done to anyone else. I thought I could fix it. I made it a thousand times worse.

The first time it started was about 3 months into the relationship. Jessie and I planned on being roomates and she decided she wanted to join us, so we rented a house (that my crazy boss who was OBSESSED with me owned).

She was at work, my boss was a pill head who loved strip clubs and was trying to get over his ex and my workday ended early on a regular basis (he would pay me full days because he said he liked looking at me while he had me) I still had a little contact with crazy #2 and she asked to take me to lunch, and I did. I came back, hopped out of her jeep and went inside, followed Crazy #3 to the bedroom and she went INSANE one me and pushed me HARD into the dresser. I couldn’t believe it. I made a lot of people crazy but I had never seen it so fast. It was like she was possessed by someone else.

I can’t remember what came next .




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