Sanguine Obsession

Let's talk ... Blood Fetishes. Who has one? I'm sure it is not just me. What is it about blood and blood letting that is so fascinating?

I first fell in love with the look of it and the symbolism behind it. I grew up watching vampire movies of all varieties. I loved the dance they portrayed. Some seduced and some simply took what they wanted. Some wanted love, and some simply craved the blood. I loved the sight of fangs penetrating flesh, blood dripping down the side of a neck or wrist, flowing out the corners of a vampire's mouth. I loved the sounds that they made while feeding and being fed on. I loved the inherent sexuality and power, the ferocity and the gentle sensuality. Watching vampire movies was my first love affair with the power exchange.

There is the power of the blood itself. Red, hot, gushing or sliding in small rivulets. Life and Death. Vitality in liquid form. Blood is life. Life is blood. Blood holds all the power, so if you can take or release the blood, you hold the power. That is fucking sexing.

And then there is the physicality of the blood. I love to see blood well on the surface of the skin. I love the smell of it and the taste of it. I love the feel of it as I dip my fingers in the pool and and swirl them outward in round graceful loops or sharp, heavy lines. I love the colors of fresh blood. I love the color of it once it has dried.

There's a primal urge to release the blood or to give it to one who deserves it. It's a gift. If they are strong enough to demand it and take it for themselves all the better. Sex and blood, fear and lust, power and submission ... it all blends together. Not a lot of people I know share my fascination, but there have been a few. Get the right people together, and the experience can be spectacular.

Dream Lover

Maybe it's the moon or that Mercury was in retrograde last month or that I saw a friend become a lovely bleeding pincushion this past weekend. Maybe my hormones are out of whack, or maybe I'm just legitimately horny as hell. Who knows why, but wow the dreams I have been having lately have been of the oh, my god steamy variety.

Hands wrapped around my throat, lips so close to my ear I could feel every exhale and every movement of their lips as they spoke, back pressed against the chest of someone I couldn't see, fingers ... forceful and deep, demanding, gentle and punishing all at once. It's heady to feel that vulnerable and safe all at once. Asking to stop when my thighs are slick and my body trembles ... being told no because they know I need more.

Dreaming of knives glinting in the light as they trace intricate patterns across my torso with surgical precision and an artistic eye. Gloved fingers rubbing and pulling, opening the tiny incisions further so that the blood flows down my sides and across my stomach. The burning, stinging madness of it makes me squirm, which makes me realize my arms are bound and a latex clad groin is pressed into mine. Latex gloved hands smear the blood everywhere. It paints my nipples a dark red, stains my lips. The salty metallic flavor fills my mouth as fingers delve inside. Bright red menstrual blood pools and drips from my pussy as a shiny, latex clad cock pushes deep and hard. The air smells like blood and rubber and the sounds of slick latex slapping against wet skin, groans and pants and whimpers and growls fill the air.

I could go on ... the dreams have just been flowing lately. I'm not horribly prone to wet variety of dreams, but I have been blessed/cursed with quite a few lately. I know I am in desperate need of some heavy S&M play. And admittedly, my sex drive has been in overdrive lately.Definitely some food for thought that makes me want to recruit a few friends who like playing in blood as much as I do to make some of those thoughts a reality.