happiness, life, love

Evil Behind the Mask


What does the evil look like? Is it someone leather-faced, smelling like decayed teeth and low-income household?

Dave was handsome, highly educated, and wealthy; warm, smiley and polite.

Intimacy with him felt like heaven, he was gentle, affectionate, and caring. “I hug you, and you smile, one day I will see you smiling all the time. It will make me happy.”  He had a great body, nicely smelling bed-linen, huge master bedroom, and high-quality home sound system.

 – What kind of music does my Vixen want?

 – Can we do Mozart?

 – You need something relaxing, what about meditation music?

 – Ok, – I shrugged my shoulders and went into the bathroom, being intimate with him felt relaxing. Sex was not merely joyful or fun, it was spectacular, phenomenal, magical, fantastic.

 – I need to take you shopping, my Vixen needs new dresses.

 – Maybe next time? I gotta pick up my kid from his daycare.

 – No, we will go now, I will choose, since I am paying. Your facial expression…. It has changed, that’s funny…

He had a great taste, the outfit he bought looked awesome. I was thankful and quiet. He did not want me to speak unless he expected answers to his questions.

Talking makes you anxious, dear, you get into your shitty moods that make you unhappy. I want you happy, this is my goal, princess, to make you happy.

 – Yeah, but I just wanted

 – Shh … silly, – he covered my mouth with his hand, – When I speak, you listen, ok?

Physical closeness was awesome, simply awesome, he was very expressive and emotional; I was touched, I kept breaking into tears, he liked it. – There is nothing wrong about showing your feelings, Vixen. You are certainly allowed to do it around me. You gotta read good books, spiritual literature. It will help you grow and become a better person. You can’t be a sugar baby all your life.

I found Seroquel and an empty Tequila bottle on one of his book shelves behind Luke Rhinehart and Teachings of the Buddha. – I have zero tolerance for alcohol. I can’t be around someone who drinks, Dave.

 – One of my friends left the bottle here, he stopped by yesterday, we meditated.

 – Are you taking anti-psychotic meds with alcohol?

 – I took half a pill, the first time in ten years, I stopped drinking long time ago. You gotta relax and stop your crazy thinking, I feel bad when I see you suffering, luv.

 – Why did you take it?

 – My ex stopped by, she is horrible, the most negative person in the world, she tried to commit suicide several times when we were together. I was anxious all night after that, the pill helped me sleep.

 – I thought it is your ex-girlfriend who tried to kill herself.

 – My ex-wife was also crazy, she is a very miserable person, she needs help. I had back luck with women in the past. You are the angel Vixen, I am blessed to have you in my life.

Sex was mind-blowing, I left his house feeling the happiest person in the world that night. He constantly wanted me around. He paid for my son’s sitter and for the hours I missed work to be with him. – You are working too much, it makes no sense, even my cleaners do better financially, honey. You need to change your career. I do not want my princess to stress twenty-four hours a day. It makes me sad to watch you suffer.   

 – I will end up losing my job if I continue taking time off. I can’t afford it, I need to feed my son.

 – I will take care of you both. Trust me, you will never be homeless and hungry.

 – I can take vacation later, maybe a couple of months from now?

 – Now, – suddenly his smile froze, – I will take care of everything:  flights, hotels, food, shopping… I want you to start packing now. Your son can go with us, I love kids.

 – I can’t.

 – Yes, you can, – he grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking. My head hit the cupboard door. I screamed, he quickly released the grip and gave me a hug. – Are you ok my dear?

I saw blood on the light-wood cupboard door and concern in his dark eyes as he was gently checking my head.– Just a tiny scratch, nothing serious, love.

 – I may need to see a doctor. I hit my temple.    

 – They will rip you off and do nothing. I owned several medical practices, people there are morons. You should not trust them. I will take care of you.

 – I need to go.

 – You need to stop talking now. – The sudden change in his voice was frightening.

That afternoon was the first time I did not leave his house mesmerized by his charm and the way he used his penis. The evil was there caring and smiling, carefully drying my skin with a soft towel after a bath and holding hands while sleeping. The evil was there, slowly but surely cuffing me to the 2-million dollar home with substance abuse and mental health issues. The evil was there gently destroying the identity through manipulation and control slowly leading others to suicidal ideation. The evil had the face of an upper class guy with refined manners, hard cock, and fat banking accounts.

It took time to finally see the dirty truth inside the fancy packaging box.

kinky, life, love

Labeling, Stereotyping, Stigma


– Vixen, I am so glad you dumped Jim, – Dave looked comfy and concerned, white and soft sweatshirt, bleached smile, and smell of quality perfume. – Wealthy guys are screwed up, your Jim has serious mental health issues.

I was in the middle of cutting my veggies for a green smoothie. His words caught me off guard, I froze with a kitchen knife in my hand staring stupidly at a cucumber on the cutting board.  I was offended. I hated and loved Jim at the same time; he used to be part of my life. Dave was nothing, just a nicely smelling dandy in Gucci outfit who tried to stick his nose where it does not belong.

What about yourself?  – I breathed out and proceeded chopping the cucumber.

 – What about me, honey?

 – You are wealthy.

 – I am not one of the freaks you used to be with, I value my soul over money. I would rather be in a forest than the Ritz Carlton. I have always been like this.

 – Who told you Jim uses Ritz?

 – Are you defending him?

 – I am not discussing him with you.

 – Why? I thought you trust me.

 – Dave, please…. Mind your own business

He had a fancy blender, perfect for smoothies and veggie soups. I took the lid off ready to put the cucumber in and felt Dave with my back.

 – You are in my house, and you are teaching me how to behave, – his voice got suddenly low and ice-cold. I shrugged my shoulders not bothering to turn around.

 – You gotta understand Vixen, I will do anything to please you, but you should be respectful and open.

 – Ok, – I reached for a tomato, he was still standing behind. “His blender is big and multi-functional, I want it, maybe I should ask him to give it to me… ”. The thought was kinda weird given that Dave seemed to be quite disappointed. Asking him was for anything at this point would be a waste of time.

 – I am talking to you, Vixen. Stop cutting your rabbit food and look at me.

I slowly turned, my irritation was growing. He gave my food a weird name. Jim loved my vegan dishes and always supported the idea to write a recipe book.  Dave made fun of all my efforts to make money. He considered me way too immature for it.

What do you want from me, Dave?  – he was too close, his perfume was too strong, chokingly strong. I felt sick to my stomach.

 – Your Jim wanted you to kiss his feet. It is sick.

 – It is hot. I am a sub, I loved it.

 – It is sick. You are sick too, Vixen. You need therapy, I will take care of it.

 – It is kinky, our kinks matched, the only thing that kept us together for a while. It is over now. Let’s change the subject.

 – You need help.

 – May I finish fixing my rabbit food?

 – Of course, – he stepped away, I added the rest of veggies into the cup and turned the blender on.

My hysterical reaction seemed to make him realize that not all my boundaries can be violated. He was too judgmental and too stuck in his perceptions of the reality. He divided this world into black and white and frowned at any other colors. He called me later, apologetic and regretful that I left too early. But I needed to leave, I needed my personal space to deal with his judgmental attitudes and condescending demeanor.

I came home with his blender that day.

life, love

When The Mask falls, and You Start Seeing the Real Person


Greg texted me when I was in bed that night. – Are you home? May I come over now, babe?

I looked at the clock, it was almost midnight. Something must have happened, he only contacted me when he felt bad or needy.

As soon as I texted, “Sure”, he knocked on the door. Impatient, selfish, and ready to use me as a battery to jump start.

 – Aren’t you supposed to ask first and then get into your car and drive here?

 – I actually asked prior knocking, – he sat down on the couch and turned on the TV.

 – Do you want anything?

 – How are you?

I sat next to him and reached out for the TV remote; he smelt like hospital and sweater.

 – Maybe water?

 – Just chill, Vixen.

 – How are you?

 – Had to go in for an emergency, same crap. I am lonely. I can give you a massage in your bed if you like…

I looked at him in amazement. It was the first time I heard him talking to me like this; no toughness, no selfishness, no introversion.  He was normal, unusually normal, surprisingly normal. It was weird.

 – You’ve never talked to me like this before Greg. You sound like you have feelings.

  – Of course, I do. You just never listen. All you care is my cock.

 – Of course, I love your cock.

 – Is this the only thing you care about? – He kept staring at the TV screen.

  – Are your kids ok?


 – How is Emy?

 – My wife is fine.

 – Is there anything I can do to help?

 – Yes, sit here and be quiet.

 – Ok, – I shrugged my shoulders. It was late, the TV show was stupid, his behavior was strange.

 – How are you dealing with her panic attacks, Vixen?

Wow, he never inquired about my wellbeing before. I could not believe my ears.

– Struggling.

 – You should start taking medications.

 – No, – I kept looking into the TV screen in fear that once I glance at him, he will shut down, and turn into the Greg I had always known – tough and unbreakable, cold-mind and hot cock.  – I am not taking any meds, my dear. It is the sign of weakness. I am strong.

Bullshit, I took meds before, they helped a lot.

 – How?

 – I had to use Sertraline to function when my mom passed away.

 – I am sorry about that.

 – Watch TV, be quiet.

I suddenly realized the Greg I used to know never existed. The image of the cool and tough guy with no feelings and constant erection collapsed, I finally saw the real person, vulnerable, insecure, with a bunch of complexes carefully hidden behind silence, surgical cleanliness, and the desire to bend others and toss them after like used paper napkins.

I stood up ready to go to sleep. I needed some rest prior another work day.

Wait, where are you going? – he kept watching the show.


 – I want you here with me, – he was still talking to the TV screen not bothering to look in my direction.

Unfold the bed, and I will sleep here.

 – What?

 – It’s a pull-out couch, it converts to a sleeper.

I was watching him struggling with dragging the bed frame down to the floor when I returned from the bedroom with pillow cases and a comforter. My perception changed, he was a human being, smelling like steak and steamed vegetables, waiting for another promotion, arguing with his wife about disciplining the children, and fighting his belly fat. Feeling his hands all over me while falling asleep that night was different. He was neither better nor worse than anyone else; the magic was gone, he felt and tasted real, just live and real. It was the new Greg, the one I had never had a chance to get to know before, the Greg that had nothing to do with the picture that was previously created in my head.


happiness, life, love

We Deserve Our Problems


– You deserve the ones you attract into your life, Vixen.

Tuesday coffee-break with Carla, water for me, decaffeinated latte for her. She was in a hurry as usually, 30 minutes prior another court case, chic black-rim glasses, pencil skirt, and merciless intelligence.

 – Actually, you are right, – I stopped sipping water through the straw and quickly adjusted the dress strap.

 – I am always right about you Vixen, you are very easy to read, very predictable, a perfect target for jerks like your Jim or hm… what was the name of your crazy surgeon again?

 – Greg, his name is Greg, – a hot flush covered me from head to toe as I said his name. Smile on my face and dizziness in my head, madly in love, irrationally obsessive

 – Yeah, they are pretty much reflections of what you think you deserve. They use you and throw you away after. And you are ok with it. What is wrong with you?

– I have no answer, my dear, – my glance fell on her coffee cup stained with the red lipstick. She was getting ready to leave, nervously searching for the car key in her purse.

This was one of few times I entirely agreed with Carla. We do deserve what we have, we build our reality based on what we allow ourselves to do in this life. We allow ourselves to be sick, miserable, healthy, or happy. We allow to open up to new opportunities and people or to close all doors and live blindly putting “good” or “bad” labels on ourselves and others.

Jim was the reflection of my desire to be with someone in power, someone to submit to entirely allowing him to resolve my problems. Once I realized that no one can help me fix myself but me, I lost interest in his obsessiveness and stopped reacting to his endless “you are insane, completely insane, all you care is my money and my penis”. With Greg it was different, he threw me into the roller-coaster of orgasms and pain, I loved the feeling and was not ready to deserve a better person.

Carla was quiet as we were leaving the coffee shop. She seemed to be disappointed.   I gave her a hug and wished her a nice day, she smiled back.  – Think about my words Vixen, you attract your own trouble.

 – You are a lawyer, not a psychoanalyst, – I was not in the mood to open up to her, she would not understand anyways.

 – I care.

– I know.

I watched her heading to the courthouse and went to the park to feed the ducks.