**This is a genuine post, not an April Fools joke. slave tasha here, perhaps for the last time.**

Your last text said, ‘Do not contact me again’. As hard as that’s been since Tuesday, I have honored that request, not knowing its author but hoping against hope that it was her rather than you. Meantime, a small group of us have been worried for your safety; we even contemplated asking the RVA police to do a wellness check to make sure you were ok. Always conscious of protecting you, not making things worse in your other relationship or God forbid physical retribution, the idea was discarded.

You violated your own request this morning and permanently crushed whatever shreds of hope I had left. Cunningly, you were on the line, but doing her bidding. Her voice read the words from a WP post into my ear with a question at the end that I evaded with the skill of Sean Spicer. I WILL NOT implicate anyone else in our deception; should you choose to be honest with her, that name will leave your mouth, not mine.

Your constant promise of protection has become an ironic and cruel joke. Over 2 1/2 years, as your friend, lover and obedient submissive, I refused to lash out in kind to her drunken, cruel messages left for me, allowing the ugliness she spewed to lie fallow. To allow you your time to rebuild your life, abuse-free, to leave on your terms, for us, you said. How many times did I offer to step aside for you, always putting your happiness above my own? You always refused to let me go, but I should have been stronger… Your profession of wanting to be honest with her was a either a lie to me all along or a means to self preservation or survival now. Whichever, it doesn’t matter now. I doubt you’ll ever see this, let alone read it, but know this: I will not speak badly of you or her beyond this post. I will grieve privately and stay graceful… I’ve been taught well and you can’t have the goodness, optimism and hope that existed before you and will surface again. Her wish that ‘I should just hurry up and die’ might well be yours now too, but you’ll both be mistaken. Life and trust will cautiously and deliberately be rebuilt, thanks to a strong spirit you can’t extinguish.

Your number has been blocked for both calls and messages, and my kinky profiles relating to you will be deleted. My blog remains as reminder, testament and future; any comment you might make will be sent to spam.

Good bye, Andy.






Fraud and Ashes

**slave tasha is writing today, not little one**

What i thought was a reconnection and a longed for step towards our future morphed into a hideous and almost wordless conflagration. Yes, i take full responsibility for the fuck up, but that you contemplate its premeditation just shatters me.

You questioned what you created while we were together and now the shards of us cut what remains of my flesh. Spirit crushed, heart reduced to smoldering ash and echoes of ‘fraud’ torment my soul.

Had you said that you chose her to protect yourself, to rebuild your life for yourself, to be whole, the pain would be dull rather than piercing. Instead, there’s only a deep hole of despair in your place…

Knowing that i have disappointed and let you down will be a scar i will carry forever, its pain far worse than anything even the darkest sadist could inflict. 💔

Command Performance

Molding His precious clay. 💜

A Faded Romantic's Notebook

He wants

to make her body sing

to train her

to direct her

to conduct her

to control her.

He wants

to make her body sing

to be his chanteuse

to be his nightingale

to be his diva

to be his leading lady soprano

pouring out her soul

He wants

to make her body sing

and sigh

and dance

and glide

and twist

and writhe

and shiver

and sway

and fill his stage

with her perfect submission

a command performance

only for him.



© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Art by Laszio Gulyas

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Use Your hungry and most devoted slave, to objectified as You desire. Your whore is ablaze with want… 💜

Besos de Cuero

Could you pass the objectification test?



Image – Igor Amelkovich



“Objectification. The body will be assessed three times using a variety of distractions. During each test the trainer will take note that on no account does the body move, twitch, sigh, moan, or make any sign of life.

The trainer will use a rod to change the position of the body as required.

After each assessment the body will be flogged for between one and two minutes. The quantity of stokes and harshness of the whipping is at the trainer’s discretion. A generous flogging is customary for the successful completion of a task however if a failure has occurred, a more severe, exemplary punishment, such as a caning, is recommended.

The whipping or caning is a display designed mainly to entertain the gallery and is therefore not included in the judges’ final assessment. As a consequence, during…

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Late Winter’s Exhibit

slave snuck out to work on her tan on an unseasonably mild February afternoon. Actually, without Your permission and command, slave chose to exhibit herself upon the terrace warmed by winter’s kiss of sun. slave knows that there may be consequences for her choice, but hopes You consider it a misdemeanor rather than a felony. Your slut’s urges are so very wanton, greedy and uncharacteristically selfish today… Cunt’s need flashes raw and slave would fuck just about anything right now, anywhere.


Or will Your etching upon owned flesh serve as a humiliating reminder for Your hungry whore?


Each pull of rope, bite of knot mark Your disobedient property– on exhibit for You only now. Withholding whip’s sting and orgasm’s bliss, You smile sadistically as release is denied.


* A bit of fantasy only. Your horniest slave knows her place as Yours and awaits Your pleasure. 💜

Lost in the Vortex of You

Wanton longings betray the tenderness of Your sterling heart resting in the hollow of the slender neck You so greedily squeeze.


Buds quake and erupt at Your sadistic bidding. slave’s needy whimpers and stacatto cries beckon Your hunger– punctuated by breathless pleas. Your favorite melody, indeed. Suffering Your brutal pain brings sweet ecstasy and perpetual devotion.


As You drift to blissful rest each evening, feel me close as You are near to hushed slave.