Ever read a blog and wondered what the person was really like? I do, all the time. I think about all sorts of banal things like what sort of toothpaste they use and whether they munch on dried squid while blogging…like I do…whoops…just outed myself there.
While reading people’s words I like to see the little glimmers of reality that remind me that we’re all just human and struggling to make it through this trial by fire called ‘life’. It’s comforting to know that behind the veneer of ‘we’re-uber-kinky-and-coolness-incarnate’, there are people who fart in elevators, take buses in completely wrong directions and are hopeful Darwin Award recipients… *raises hand to all three*
In blogland though there is a definite inequality in the number of domly blogs to subbly blogs. I would estimate the ratio of subbly blogs to domly blogs at being somewhere in the ratio of 100,000:1. Perhaps this just reflects the fact that subbly ones tend to be drama queens who like to share their gripes with world, while domly ones tend to secretly hide in shadows and formulate evil plans.
When I do read the select few domly blogs that are out there, I imagine what their real name is. Generally I think of cool names like Barnabus, Richard and Sir Stephen (pronounced Stef-an not Steevan!) because that’s what domly ones in my head should be named. I imagine they walk around in crisp suits during the day and transform into black-clad vampire-type characters at night.
Experience has told me that the reality is quite different. Domly ones in real life tend to be named Mark, Terry & John. They tend to wear jeans and will fart in bed and then hold the covers over your head as you try not to breathe. In some strange coincidence both my former owner and Master have the same name (perhaps god decided that remembering two different names was just too much for me or something) and funnily enough it doesn’t sound a bit like what I imagined my Master to be called. But then again, I supposed he imagined his slave would be called Crysalis, Bethany or something equally as divine instead of the crusty name I have.
Maybe that’s why he just calls me slut or bitch instead.
Master hasn’t made an official appearance in this blog – no photos etc.- which has lead to the rumour that he may be a “Phantom Master” or perhaps simply a Blow Up Bobby in disguise 🙂 The simple reason for this is that he is generally the one taking the photos of me. After all, have you ever tried to take a picture while whipping someone at the same time? I did take a photo of him at the play party last weekend wearing my bunny ears which was sooooo cute it just made me want to spread him on toast and eat him up, but I believe that posting that pic would forever exclude him from the ‘bad-ass dom’ list so I won’t do that.
Fortunately he has his own blog to still the rumours, but he still does remain a bit elusive. Perhaps that adds to the air of mystery around him though….or is that ‘air of mystery’ just a cloud of methane gas escaping from the bedsheets?