Intro

Devotion: A strong inner participation that goes beyond reason and rationality and sustainably exceeds it.

 

»D., oh how I subjected myself to you, how I would have done anything for you, without doubt, without mistrust. I was your submissive slave. Naked on all fours, I crawl to your feet, longing for attention, hoping this game will never end.«

 

 

 

 

In order to tell this story, I have to go back in time and embody 3 different roles. In this context, »Blonde«, »Red« and »Black« become my personalities, who change tremendously in the process of becoming a submissive lover. The painter and the muse turns into a trilogy. I’m not getting into the »Blonde« part until the next chapter. When »Blonde« met the painter D., she was inexperienced and blindly embarked on a new adventure. Later on, the figure evolves into a rebellious woman struggling with disappointment and loss. Three roles, three different personalities, all of them a pieces of me.

D. came into my life to stay, not physically though. This experience was giving me a hard time back then and I still think about it a lot today. Everything began with the urge to share erotic fantasies – I had fallen for him from the very beginning. There was a certain power instantly when we started texting. As a man, he simply fascinated me. D. is in his mid 40s, an American painter and very attractive. I remember his distinctive face, his dark eyes framed by bushy eyebrows. I remember his well-trained body, the anatomy book aesthetics and his hands, which gave me quite a few moments of pleasure, a dominant charisma that I have never experienced before. Usually, men were a little shy or insecure towards me. D. is controlled in everything he does, confident, I feel a magical aura in his presence. He was aware of this charisma and had found a real challenge in me. I think in retrospect, we both didn’t know what we were getting into. Two strong personalities collide, the roles were injured at their core, static fills the atmosphere.

Looking at his art, a dark feeling was getting ahold of me. Naked, emaciated images of women in contrast with wild animals that tear each other into shreds. Blood, torn pieces, and empty faces of whores form the centre piece of his oil paintings, which look much more imposing in poster size. All bodily fluids disdainfully spray on inferior objects. D. liked the feeling of being in control, he did not react to anything else – not one bit. If one did not submit to him, he lost interest. All he was interested in was to create power and to live it out in this animalistic way. Strong personalities attracted him. Breaking them, submitting to him, that gave him a feeling of exaltation, a lonesome orgasm, since I was rarely attending.

I tell this excerpt from my life to process, to reflect, to look forward. But also because I am now ready to look at it with sufficient distance, positively – it ́s been a long way. Maybe you can relate: You meet someone and this relationship develops entirely different than you have wished for. Then all that remains is pain and disappointment. You wonder what the reason for this encounter was, until suddenly it all makes sense. I’d say that for the first time in my life I have experienced unconditional love on a physical level. Dive in completely – head first, entrusting everything to a person without fear of shame. I am talking about punishment such as flogging, bondage, beatings, giving up privacy as

in urinating under observation, constantly making your body available – even in unpleasant situations, but also affection, like in ordinary relationships, falling asleep together, kissing. Passion was the center of this power and I was its slave.

»Blonde«, »Red« and »Black« go on a journey of desire and pain. The relationship between D. and my 3 staged roles, which was originally oriented towards a dominant/submissive one, loses itself in a bleak being. An erotic gamble with fire.

The characters that were created always contain a strong personality which is very vulnerable, unable to let go. Obsessively, a part of me clings to this power that feels like love. My master will be my doom. How can you just let go of something so strong? He made me his toy and demanded my attention at every available minute. This relationship became a real dependency for me, and eventually arrogated my all.

For D.: i wish we will be something different, whenever we meet again.

-There will be time, there will be time, to prepare a face, to meet the faces that we meet again.-