The truth is people change. I am forever changing. My body, my likes, and dislikes, my sexual fetishes, my morals, and beliefs. Life is a journey and I believe we are meant to evolve over that journey into the best possible person we can be or the happiest, hopefully, both. We are all flawed and imperfect. I know I have many imperfections and I try to acknowledge and remove them from my life. There are also people, if we are lucky, who are in your life as family or friends or lovers for a time, that change you, influence you and mold you in a positive way through their relationship with you. But even friends like family or lovers can change and turn against you and become toxic. You have to have the strength, confidence, and knowledge to understand when to let go of these people and move on.

I have talked about not engaging with haters or closed-minded people who attack you for being different or don’t agree or understand who you are or what you do. This also can be applied to X lovers. It never shocks me how someone who meant the world to you, who you were ready to marry, who you shared everything with… then… is gone, a complete stranger, even someone you now hate and distrust. I recently had the opportunity to address someone who I thought I had deleted from my life but had forgotten one platform. I wrote the text and stopped, I realized that I didn’t need to tell him anything because I knew nothing positive would come from it. It wouldn’t make him see things differently or from my perspective, if anything it would just make him angry and start a fight. I realized (with a lil help from a special pup) I just needed to get it out. To release it so it didn’t grow inside me into something infectious and hideous. So I am gonna write it here.

“I found out what you have been doing and with who. You have no Fkin limits to how cruel and selfish you act. And it’s pathetic that you turn on everyone else to attack and blame them for your actions. You can post up as many self-affirmation posts as your hypocritical fingers can make but you are a lying selfish person. I hate myself for letting you play me for years. You have made me feel like the biggest fool. Congratulations for leading me on for so long. I hope I never see your face again. If there ever was the man inside you that I fell in love with – or if that was all one big act – he died years ago. I don’t even know who you are today. And I will never let you lie to me again.”

OK, I’ll admit this is a little dramatic. I could have maybe just read it to a friend or something. But like all the major things I go through in life I share them with you not to be self-indulgent but to try and teach you something through what I have been through. I know a lot of my followers feel alone dealing with stuff like this cause they message me about it. So I don’t want them to feel alone, even if it’s through reading a blog post from a guy they follow. I also want them to know we can make decisions that will help lessen drama and pain in our lives, it’s popular culture to want to confront and attack someone, reality TV thrives of this, but sometimes just writing it in a blog post or a letter and throwing that letter in the bin is enough to help you move on, you can’t change other people only yourself.

I truly believe my cock is very intuitive, the night before getting my PA it tried to invert into a vagina, and the first morning after my piercing, my morning glory was not the usual Die Hard, “Yippee-ki-ya, Motherfucker” hardon. But this morning, the second morning, my hardon woke me up to the feeling of the piercing stretching around the metal and blood dripping down the side of my hip, luckily being caught in my man diaper…

But let’s go back to the beginning. It was Jim Ferro in this Raw Fuck Club film that made me decide I needed a Prince Albert. I had thought about it, been told numerous times from bottoms how hot I’d be with it, but it wasn’t till I saw this film and how FKIN sexy Jim looked that I realized just how FKIN KICKASS I would look like with one. A huge beast, covered from head to feet in hard brawny muscles, a thick sea of hair and ink. (need to work on the ink next…) With two huge metal rings dangling from my imposing pecs, jutting out of my hefty nipples… AND an engorged pumped veiny monster cock with a just as monstrous thick metal ring dangling from it!

Cut to several years later and the idea had become an obsession but I had to be able to afford time off work to get it done. Meaning, to not have to fuck for at least a month, maybe more, hopefully, less. This was the hard part. But at the end of 2019 after fucking like a mother fucker for the last 12 months (Like even more, however unbelievable, than how I had been since 2010 when I became a sex worker and started relentlessly destroying men’s fuck holes on film and giving clients the fuck of their lives!) saving money and making heaps of content for my website I was at a sexual position do get it done. So as soon as I returned home I called the Piercing HQ and made the first available appointment for the 8th January 2020 to get my Prince Albert. I was referred to HQ by several guys whose opinion I trusted and who’s PA’s I had seen and looked awesome.

On the day of the 8th, I drove to their building along with my boy Bruiser, who was getting his nipples done. A couple that pierces together, stays together! He went first and, as I knew it would be, it was effortless. The boy likes pain. I, on the other hand, have a phobia of anything medical, especially needles. Ironic seeming I inject them into myself multiple times a week when taking steroids or even into my cock when using Caverject or Tri/Quad Mix. But in these cases, my vanity, or mental health, whichever way you wish to look at it, outweighs my fear. This doesn’t stop me from always looking away when a nurse has to take my blood or a tattoo artist is drawing a masterpiece on my skin. It was fun to finally watch the piercer, Paulus was his name, pierce Bruiser’s nipples. It gave me a better idea of what was about to happen to my cock. He like many before said doing my cock would hurt less than when I had my nipples done. Physically they were all right. Psychologically they were all wrong.

So Paulus places a tube into the shaft of my cock and moves it down the shaft till he reaches where he’s going to make the piercing, decided by the number of veins located in my cock, my foreskin and the knowledge that a 00 gauge was the end goal. I get why he asked if I like sounding and was slightly upset when I said no. I tried sounding once and it didn’t do a thing for me. I actually hate having things shoved into the head of my cock so this was already really uncomfortable for me. I, of course, looked away before any material actually touched my skin. So it wasn’t till Paulus said, “Ok, take a big breath in.” that I knew judgment day had arrived! The actual piercing was painful but instantaneous, like a painful sting that was gone as quick as it appears. I can honestly say it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It didn’t stop me from breaking out in a sweat and momentarily passing out. Something I didn’t even know till Bruiser told me on the way home, that people were talking to me and I wasn’t responding, which I have no recollection of.

Once home the only issue was taking a piss and pissing blood everywhere. This subsided over the remaining day and by the next morning when I pissed there was no blood, it just burnt like a mother fucker cause I hadn’t drunk any water all night. But I hadn’t actually pulled back my foreskin to have a good look at the piercing, you know to check that there was nothing wrong, like puss, or I don’t know what? So I pulled it back and saw that the piercing was clean… but then I started bleeding profusely again and didn’t stop all day. I started drinking heaps of water which made me piss heaps but Paulus did tell me pissing was 80% of my aftercare so I should drink loads of water and piss heaps which I am, doing both. And soaking it in warm saltwater.

At this point that’s about all there is to report other than, thank god for these adult men diapers, which I posted up online and was shocked at the huge feedback I got. I had tapped into a whole new fetish accidentally.

Just took another piss and there was no blood but I didn’t pull my foreskin back. Will probably have to soon and give it a good wash as it’s smelling ripe. Not in a bad way but in that way where I intentionally don’t wash it thoroughly for a day or two so that when a bloke pulls it outta my pants not only is he shocked at how huge and mean it looks but he’s also hit with how ripe it stinks. Love that. Not into dick cheese but definitely into ripe cock… urgh I better stop writing now before I give myself a hardon…