The Secret Diary of Janey Jones

[rida]

I want to like him- part of me does not want to get to know him so that I can live in a dream. He has never tied a girl up before, and I have never been bound by anything. So far we are like little kids talking about it. I think I like him enough to be good silly friends with him, and if it does not matter at first anyway...I will go with it.

I am kinda nervous. I keep thinking: maybe if he just ties up my arms, my legs can be free to run away. I know it seems so silly. I don't really want to run away. I am confused. I will let him tie me up at some point in time, hopefully before the sad chance reveals it's teary threads.

At first- I almost didn't believe him that he always wanted to do this. I guessed he was running with a lay ticket. I went to his house and saw his drawings that depict women and creatures tied up with rope in pretty ways. I believe him now. What I don't understand is why he never explored this with women before. I guess it is the same as me never really thinking about it before but liking the way it looks. I just never imagined it for myself.
---
The Teddy looks like me and I snuggle with her every night. I don't want to undo her ropes because I don't know how to put them back on. I keep looking at it and trying to figure it out.

Looking forward reading what the rope will whisper to you

[
*snip*
And then he let go—and I was relieved. It is the flood of that freedom that makes the tight grip so desirable. What good is running if you don’t know what you are running from?

Somebody told me that what they liked about rope bondage was the feeling of freedom when the rope is taken off.

What I do not like about rope bondage is the feeling of abandonment when the rope is taken off ...

 

[sweepthefloor]

Looking forward reading what the rope will whisper to you
Somebody told me that what they liked about rope bondage was the feeling of freedom when the rope is taken off.

What I do not like about rope bondage is the feeling of abandonment when the rope is taken off ...

The rope whisperer.

That makes sense to me-- it must feel good when it comes off. At the same time I can imagine the feeling of falling apart when it comes off, feeling loose. Maybe it will be like that 'trust trick' when you fall back with your eyes closed and hope the person behind you catches you. I will find out. If he catches you afterwards, maybe you won't feel abandoned.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Behind my eye doctored dilated eyes-- thoughts can be read with the lightly bearded, monospaced, clean typeset Courier. This text is smudged with white ink on big black glass pupils. My eyes are dry, but the ink is not.

I don’t want more eye drops- I just want to cry, to get the sand out.

On the cold black beach of my mind I spun myself around thinking, and the strand from my own whirlwind ended up in my eyes.

I pounded these obsidian rock dreams into sharp surgical scalpels.

This is not the time for crystals—these extrusive igneous thoughts flow like the lava in a dreamers erupted heart.

 

[butterfly_flip]

I wanted to stop by and wish you a very Merry Christmas

 

[sweepthefloor]

I wanted to stop by and wish you a very Merry Christmas

Thank you! You too!

 

[sweepthefloor]

New year, new run and it feels so good. It only takes two miles to get back circulating the me, that is me.

I got off my track and the priority to take care of the me, that is me collided with the steam engine of life.

I am the yardmaster putting these train cars in order. There is slack and I am engineering this locomotive to make the grade.

I am the conductor monitoring this cargo. The fare tickets are free, and we are all taking joy rides on my streetcar named whisper-you.

I am the crummy caboose shelter. My panties are the packing on his axle housed in the frame of his body. It’s a hot journal box. I am sniffing for red smoke, and I will not be derailed.

It’s a story about plain bearings, and rotating shafts.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Baby it might be cold outside but my lips are Chanel 19 popular red hot, and my backside is black and blue. My eyes are the spring season. It doesn’t hurt anymore when I sit down, but I have to wait till these marks go away before I see him again. It didn’t seem to hurt much, but I didn’t laugh this time. It wasn’t hard enough to make me cry, but my brain did start to protect me with a reflex, eventually. This was a comforting realization to me.

Hey I have to hide my secret happy away when it involves bruises so that we don’t fall into an emotional ecchymotic mess.

He’s afraid of himself, and maybe of what he will do to me. I am not really afraid of anything except him falling in love with me- that might be inevitable at this point.

I guess this is all madness. I don’t even know if I like him. All I know is that he tied me up with a rope and after that pretty scene was over, when my body was free, no longer in bondage- he beat me.

And how did all of that happen? I know how it happened. I ended up at his home. He wanted to fuck me- or something. He was trying to kiss me- or something. I said: Let’s watch a movie with rape scenes in it- or something. He took off his clothes and started to jerk himself off- or something. I was not interested at all.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I am not a spun sugar cotton candy girl- but he thinks all girls should smell like this. I washed my body with the soap and put on the sticky lotion. Looking at myself in the mirror the scent does not match the body. The bottles are pink and match my nails that match my purse that matches my heart that is innocent somewhere deep inside.

It’s all so revolting- this is a wound and the tissue is granulated and beefy and pink.

It’s so sickly sweet- I wear it for the experience of sniffing something I never was.

 

[sweepthefloor]

This is a power struggle. My body is rope-bound, and I am getting fucked. I appear weak but his manhood is at my cervix, and his heart is at my service. My heart knows no knots.

Is it the one who loves that loses the power? I have not loved this time. I like my love like my oatmeal, instant. Just add hot me.
I am not boiling, but I think he is. I am using him to hurt me, and in return I let him fuck me. I do believe he likes to hurt me too.

This situation seems mutually beneficial-- till he talks to me about things I do not wish to discuss. Things that will ruin his chance for my heart.

Telling him to shut up does not fit into my sexual equation.

And what exactly is going on around here? My thought box is rigid but my expectations are not that grand or impossible. I ignore what he is not, and take what he can do, and stuff that into what fits. The rest I will have to make up on my own.

 

[YourCaptor]

This is a power struggle. My body is rope-bound, and I am getting fucked. I appear weak but his manhood is at my cervix, and his heart is at my service. My heart knows no knots.

Is it the one who loves that loses the power? I have not loved this time. I like my love like my oatmeal, instant. Just add hot me.
I am not boiling, but I think he is. I am using him to hurt me, and in return I let him fuck me. I do believe he likes to hurt me too.

This situation seems mutually beneficial-- till he talks to me about things I do not wish to discuss. Things that will ruin his chance for my heart.

Telling him to shut up does not fit into my sexual equation.

And what exactly is going on around here? My thought box is rigid but my expectations are not that grand or impossible. I ignore what he is not, and take what he can do, and stuff that into what fits. The rest I will have to make up on my own.

lol

Except for the end. It's though finding people you really click with. Exposure increases odds, online don't count I think. Maybe occasionally...

 

[sweepthefloor]

lol

Except for the end. It's though finding people you really click with. Exposure increases odds, online don't count I think. Maybe occasionally...

It is what it is- even the end can be funny. It's all fun and games till I don't want to play anymore. I am still playing one turn at a time. Maybe he will surprise me: and win! I'd love to lose.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Sex text message failure.

Me: What will you do to me?
He: I will lick your pussie, lmao
Me: ughgh perv killer​

And just like that all my dreams were shattered, so I prescribed myself a nap to prevent my brain from deleting the image that I carefully created.

 

[rida]

Sex text message failure.

Me: What will you do to me?
He: I will lick your pussie, lmao
Me: ughgh perv killer​

And just like that all my dreams were shattered, so I prescribed myself a nap to prevent my brain from deleting the image that I carefully created.

Yes, getting my pussy licked is one of those things that I need to be in the right mood to enjoy.

Unless it is a woman doing the licking

 

[rida]

This is a power struggle. My body is rope-bound, and I am getting fucked. I appear weak but his manhood is at my cervix, and his heart is at my service. My heart knows no knots.

Is it the one who loves that loses the power? I have not loved this time. I like my love like my oatmeal, instant. Just add hot me.
I am not boiling, but I think he is. I am using him to hurt me, and in return I let him fuck me. I do believe he likes to hurt me too.

It often seems that way, isn't it?

Unless the love has no goal, no expectations, no strings, no requests.

So how did you like the bondage part?

 

[sweepthefloor]

Yes, getting my pussy licked is one of those things that I need to be in the right mood to enjoy.

Unless it is a woman doing the licking

I am never in the mood for getting licked.

That would be worse than tickling, and he likes to tickle me.
I imagine I would get hurt from thrashing if he tied me up and tickled me. I kick, scream and fight my way out. I admit that I like the fighting part.

It often seems that way, isn't it?

Unless the love has no goal, no expectations, no strings, no requests.

So how did you like the bondage part?

It does seem that way. I can only give him physical power. He can take that experience with him for his next go round- next girl.

Love with no expectations works at the start, eventually he will want to know me. If I tell him a story, I will want him to insulate and sheet rock my attic in return. It’s a whole can of confusion I am not ready to open.

I liked it. I liked the feeling of not being able to get away, at the time when I most wanted to get away. I am not sure how that makes any sense. I will do it again.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

I am never in the mood for getting licked.

That would be worse than tickling, and he likes to tickle me.
I imagine I would get hurt from thrashing if he tied me up and tickled me. I kick, scream and fight my way out. I admit that I like the fighting part.

...

I liked it. I liked the feeling of not being able to get away, at the time when I most wanted to get away. I am not sure how that makes any sense. I will do it again.

It makes perfect sense. It's a different form of pain, a mindspank, if you will.

 

[sweepthefloor]

It makes perfect sense. It's a different form of pain, a mindspank, if you will.

Yes it seems so-- painful. Mostly because I am very ticklish. Once tickled, it starts to tickle before the tickle. That tickles more than the actual tickle. I hope I don't trickle pee, from it. Then again- if I trickle on his leg while he does tickle, surely that will make him stop! Maybe?

I am pretty strong. It's a dangerous game he's playing with this tickle stuff. I couldn't fight off my fight, even if I tried. This is not gentle tickling. This is a battle. This is why I fear restraint tickling.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I am glad something makes sense.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Giving a weak man big power feels good. It tends to my empathetic heart. What minds my mind though, is brute forced power plundering.

I can’t explain it.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

Yes it seems so-- painful. Mostly because I am very ticklish. Once tickled, it starts to tickle before the tickle. That tickles more than the actual tickle. I hope I don't trickle pee, from it. Then again- if I trickle on his leg while he does tickle, surely that will make him stop! Maybe?

I am pretty strong. It's a dangerous game he's playing with this tickle stuff. I couldn't fight off my fight, even if I tried. This is not gentle tickling. This is a battle. This is why I fear restraint tickling.

Years ago, I had a student like this. One could tickle her from a distance - say, 10 or 15 feet away. Just wriggle one's fingers at her and she would start to squirm.

I decided to do something different one day. I waited until she had her back to us, and then wriggled my fingers at her. Within 15 seconds, she was squirming. She hated it. I loved it, as did all her classmates. She squirmed sooo many times that year.



After all... I *am* a sadist. It seemed that many of her classmates were, too.

 

[sweepthefloor]

Years ago, I had a student like this. One could tickle her from a distance - say, 10 or 15 feet away. Just wriggle one's fingers at her and she would start to squirm.

I decided to do something different one day. I waited until she had her back to us, and then wriggled my fingers at her. Within 15 seconds, she was squirming. She hated it. I loved it, as did all her classmates. She squirmed sooo many times that year.



After all... I *am* a sadist. It seemed that many of her classmates were, too.

You are so cruel!

 

[sweepthefloor]

I'd say: How could you? But you already answered that.

 

[sweepthefloor]

I am the coldest.

I can’t be held responsible for this face that houses lips painted with- Coco 19 Gabrielle.

I keep telling him that it’s just not right the way he feeds me. He’s better off starving me.

 

[rida]

I liked it. I liked the feeling of not being able to get away, at the time when I most wanted to get away. I am not sure how that makes any sense. I will do it again.

Looking forward reading more ^_^

 

[sweepthefloor]

Looking forward reading more ^_^

I can’t say for sure that I will never find myself at the center of his rope, but it won’t be for a while.