Phone Sex

Dolcett. DeSade. Dahmer. Ballard. The delicious Beauty books, and the rare REAL clips you find. There is almost nothing sexual I'm not at least familiar with. Personal favorites include the incredibly wide array of things called "BDSM" plus medical sessions, torture, clamps and hooks and gore and other such awfulness, and a terrible appetite for spanking and whipping.

I’m addicted to the suffering little noises a slave makes. I could listen for days. I love to layer pain, change texture or speed or implement or style until the submissive is helpless and lost and can only, feel. I love things that most people pretend to be horrified by, when they probably masturbate to the Gestapo in private.

I specialize in very dark fetish. I prefer to top, and a favorite theme is extreme control--but this is, of course, about what you like.

I'm game for anything from ultravanilla to ultraviolence. Try me. There is no such thing as the subject that will gross me out, make me hang up or laugh, or surprise me in the least. As I said before, you are safe here.

About me in general:
I am very, VERY GLBTQIS friendly. I am extremely extremely bigot- UNfriendly. Haters, I don’t need your money. Call someone else. This is a safe non-judgemental space where absolutely anything goes-- except limits. Bigotry of any kind is a limit.

I’m a tall, omnisexual underweight Satanist who likes reasonable drugs and violent music and very good books. I define omnisexual as “will fuck any humanoid that makes my dick hard.” Clear?

I've been in a full time power-exchange as Daddy to my most beloved slave Damien for eight years. X has been my periodic slave and best friend for far too many years. I worked briefly in a dom studio, which I adored.

For the sake of my relationship with Damien I've retired from face-to- face practice. I'm working on going digital-only. I do facetime to a tiny group, all of whom you will "meet"as well as reading some free extreme filth, if you wander over to the closest thing I currently have to a home page.

About business:
Until a little maintainence, I am only available for email sessions. I will send instructions or compose fiction to your specification. I charge by the word. You'll find I'm very reasonable. Below are some tiny samples of writing. More every week are available at my livejournal, or you can ask about specific subject matter for a fetish-particular sample. No request is too dark or too odd or too, anything. I promise. I probably already have something somewhere--my hard drive is full of text. Or I'll write a few free brain-quicktimes for your chosen subject and you can see if you like my style.

If you do mail me for any reason, I'll probably send you one single quick note to tell you phone sessions are now available. If you don't want me to do that, let me know.

Feel free to send questions, comments, hellos, negotiations, and noise to (whatever it is, look it up) I answer general questions and friendly waves for free and with general delight.

Or check out the livejournal. You just may find your fix. Or at least a little eye candy.

What do you need?

Whatever you're looking for, I hope you find it somewhere, and soon.

Reverend Murder

Nonfiction--Erotic asphyxia--Excerpt from Mercy (c) 2004 Blue Murder Projekt, All Rights Reserved

(This one is kind of a transcription of things that actually went on between X and a sadly-missed previous playmate. X is the sub in this scene.)

I only put my fingers against his lips. He must have understood, because when I kissed him again he let me be in control. I abused the privilege immediately, kissing too violently, too quickly.
He whimpered, deep in his throat, dug his nails into my shoulders. I gashed at his tongue with my teeth, kissed deeply enough to gag him. He was purring, opening his mouth wider to let me choke him. I didn't notice my hands until the quality of his whimpering changed. There were marks on his neck that were rapidly darkening into bruises. I was, stricken, kissing his bruises. "I'm sorry."
His hands moved to close around mine. He guided my hands back to his neck, leaned up and licked my throat. "Harder..."
My breath rushed out like he'd hit me. "Harder?" He arched up towards my hands, "Please."
I put my thumbs behind his ears. There's a nerve point there. It's one of the first ones you learn. I pressed hard. He made a tiny little cry, cringing.
"Do you like that?"
"It's that...martial arts stuff...isn't it?" He was breathing hard, his eyes still closed.
"Yes," I told him.
“More...”
More. I could have him screaming loud enough to have the police here without causing him any real harm. My fingers had already decided for me, finding the place at the base of his throat and pushing hard.

Nonfiction--Excerpt from Mercy (c) 2004 Blue Murder Projekt, All Rights Reserved

(X is the top in this bit.)

"My belt's behind you on the bed. Hand it to me."
Touching that belt, giving it to him to hit me again.
The thought left me icy with terror. I cringed close to him again. "Please--"
Laughter. He stroked my back, his hands hot on my bruised skin. "Do what I tell you," he said. "Don't you want me pleased with you?"
I started crying all over again. God knows why. It was stupid; he hadn't even hit me yet. "Don't make me," I pleaded. I had never said anything like that in my life. Nobody had ever been able to make me do anything.
His voice was harder, this time. "Do it."
I turned away from him. The belt was lying on his black velvet bed, sinister and gleaming. My hand wouldn't move for what seemed like forever.
I forced myself to pick it up. It was cold, and it seemed to travel up my arm, the sensation of its impossible weight. I realized I was scared to death of it, as if it were a sentient thing that had brought me such incredible pain, such intense pleasure.