Stella writes erotica?

So, the idea of writing erotica has been on my mind.  This is not a recent thing, it has been on my mind for weeks and weeks and weeks.  I enjoy reading erotica from time to time, but the issue is that I do not want to read just porn (don’t get me wrong, that’s fun sometimes too!).  I want a real plot and characters that actually develop throughout a long with plenty of sex and kink and erotic amazingness. Maybe there is a better term for this than erotica?  I don’t know.

I want to write about the things that lurk in the very darkest corners of my mind and even the things that cross deep into my hard limits and beyond what I would even consider to be on my radar.  I mean, I already have the Stella alias, so why not?  I know there is a market out there.  Sex sells, no question about it.

There are a few things holding me back.  For example, I feel that writing is a very vulnerable thing, even when it is purely fiction.  But then again, this blog is also very vulnerable.  I am going to continue to mull it over in my mind for the next few days and see if I can come up with anything.



All the insecurities

A few days ago, I created a profile on a site that allows people (most likely men) to ‘sext’ me for a small fee.  See those posts, here and here.  I haven’t done anything with it yet but I am semi-anxious to start.

What’s the hold up!?

I CANNOT for the life of me shake these random insecurities that seemed to pop up over night.

A little bit about me – I fall into this awkward category between thin and BBW.  Too big for the people who are into skinny girls and not big enough for the people who are into BBWs.  I don’t know, I don’t understand it but it is my experience thus far.

I want to put a photo on my profile.  Nothing overly revealing, but enough to show an accurate depiction of my body.  I do have issues with photos, a story for another blog post, but I thought maybe because this was anonymous it would be easier.  NOPE.  It isn’t.  I hate everything.

I have some sort of idea in my head that my body is just weird.  Part of me hopes that this adventure into a little piece of the sex industry will help me feel more comfortable with myself.

So, tonight’s goal is to take ONE photo of myself in some sort of lingerie.  Just one.  I can do this… right?



You know what’s so frustrating?  Talking to someone for MONTHS and then they constantly (and randomly!) disappear.  I used to make up excuses for him – busy, busy, busy.  But… I’m busy, too.

This is why I am so frustrated.  I don’t know how people do this.  My very first boyfriend raped me.  The most recent vanilla ex?  He threatened to kill me.)  The messages that fill my Fetlife and Collarspace inboxes are 99% abusive, sexist filth.  When I do find someone worth talking to, they disappear in days or they’re too far away to take seriously.

Everyone keeps saying, “be patient, the right one will come.”  Are you sure?  My patience is wearing thin.


Another one bites the dust

It is very possible that the person this post is about will see it.  Part of me feels bad because I am about to be so brutally honest – but, this is MY blog and this was my experience.  From now on, I’ll have to warn anyone who ever speaks to me: I blog in the same way that Taylor Swift writes songs.

I have this horrible habit: I trust people who do not deserve it and am wary of those that do.  It has always been this way.

We met on a vanilla dating site, believe it or not, but he recognized me from my profile on Collarspace.  Yes, I have one of those.  Apparently we had messaged back and forth.  That should have been red flag number one.

I did enjoy talking to him.  We had a lot in common – vanilla and kinky.  He called himself a Master though and initially said he was looking for a slave.  I am NOT and will NEVER be a slave.  He assured me this was okay.  Although, I am not sure he truly understood the difference.

Much like myself, he was looking for a real relationship within the D/s dynamic.  I don’t know why I trusted him.  We hung out a few times before anything happened – it went alright, but was not amazing.  I was NOT attracted to him but I kept trying to convince myself his personality would make up for it.

The first time we “played” was just a spanking.  No issues there.  Spanking is and always has been my main fetish.  It wasn’t overly hard – just his hand and a belt.  Nothing here was throwing up a red flag, it actually helped calm my anxiety.

The next time was more, spanking and an orgasm.

The next time, he wanted a blow job.  I won’t lie – I enjoy doing that, always have.  But, this time I didn’t enjoy it.  It tasted strange, it smelled worse.  Not diseased or anything, just dirty.  I realize that is so much TMI.  Sorry.  How does one even bring that up?  I had to hold my breath to avoid gagging more than I already was.

I recently read a post on FetLife about ‘sub frenzy’ and I am certain I had it.  He wasn’t what I wanted, or even close, but I was just so desperate to fulfill my submissive desires.  His cock made me gag, not in a good way, and I was willing to keep going because I thought I was being “good.”

He bought me a collar and told me he took it seriously. We actually went to a store and bought it (a long with a plug).  I prefer online shopping so I was miserable the entire time.  I just wanted to get out of the store.  The second he put that collar on my neck, my anxiety sky-rocketed.

One night he called to tell me he was having bad nightmares, wanted to focus more on work, didn’t think he could stay in control, excuse after excuse after excuse.  He kept repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” as if it made some sort of difference or legitimatized his excuses.

My suspicion is that he couldn’t handle taking it as slow as I needed it to go.  He wanted a slave and I made it clear I would never be one.

Strangely out of character, I was not upset.  I hung up the phone, took a deep breath, and that was it.  He had only been in my life a short time – no need to waste any more of it.


Stella Meets a Misogynist

I think I may have mentioned in previous posts that I consider myself to be a feminist.  Submission is my choice, it is neither something I feel obligated to do nor am I submissive towards all men.  This post contains some serious sexism, proceed at your own risk.

A week ago, maybe longer, I received a message on CollarSpace (yes, I have one of those under my actual identity.  Pure entertainment) from a Dom seeking a 1950’s style relationship complete with the domestic discipline element.  No problem, that idea has always intrigued me but I was upfront that I was not interested in any type of relationship with him.  I also stated that I was willing to chat as long as there was no pressure to meet.  Also, he’s about four inches shorter than me and, at the risk of sounding vain, I just… can’t.

From what I can gather, this is the type of woman he is looking for:  A woman who has no thoughts or ideas of her own.  A woman who wants to marry a man she barely knows.  A woman who is okay with him sleeping with other women but will still remain faithful to him.  A woman who wants to stay pregnant all the time.  (He has a breast milk fetish).

His idea of domestic discipline is locking his sub in a cage under his bed for 24 hours any time she does something he doesn’t like.  He expects her to carry a ping-pong paddle in her purse, so he can spank her with it anywhere he feels like regardless of who is around.  This isn’t domestic discipline, this is abuse.  I am certain he doesn’t understand the difference.

I was upfront with him that none of this matched my own desires and even expressed a little concern.  He still wanted to chat and I agreed.  I know this makes me sound like a shitty person, but I wasn’t talking to him for the quality of conversation.  I was talking to him because I needed to be entertained.

He wasted no time in telling me that I’d have to give up my job, my blogs (he doesn’t know the URLs to any of them), and even my cats (NOPE) and focus solely on being a wife and mother.  According to him, those are the only two purposes that women serve on this planet.

‘Yes, random stranger, I’ll give up everything for which I worked my ass off just for you’ said no woman, submissive or not, ever.

And then, he informed me: “If we had daughters, I’d expect you to teach them how to be submissive to their future husbands.”

OMG. I LOST IT. There is not a chance in hell that I would ever, EVER teach any child of mine that their only purpose was to serve someone else.

It is people like him that make me push so hard against my submissive side.  I know this isn’t a good representation of a Dom.  This guy is a control freak, but it is still very concerning.

This morning he sent me various photos of chastity belts, telling me that ‘his woman’ would wear one of these every time she went anywhere without him.  I made the mistake of asking why.  Apparently, since all women suffer from uncontrollable lust and possess tiny, thoughtless brains, we will sleep with anyone and anything that crosses our path ever.  Thus, chastity belt.  LOL.  Oh, and he also believes that rape is the fault of the victim and not the rapist.  I can hardly believe such a gem is single.  *I’ve never written anything with such sarcasm in my life.