The Diary of LeahBella

3,536

Just some thoughts and musings. Nothing of interest, really. Maybe the a fantasy or two...

Sweet Agony: a Femdom Fantasy

Mar 30, 2022, 7:48 AM

Important: This is a work of fiction based on made-up characters. Characters at consenting and 18+ in age. Bondage, femdom, anal play, spanking, fingering, humiliation, and all sorts of general naughtiness…read at your own discretion. It also includes post-play aftercare (which was 100% legit included in my actual daydream because it is that important to me). Enjoy!

She was hogtied on the bed in her pink babydoll lace and matching panties. Smooth red ropes bound her wrists together behind her back. The same ropes joined her ankles so her feet were up by her ass. Her legs were bent, spread in a way that exposed her wide and open to the camera. Beside the beautiful Bella was her domme –her Mistress– smirking at the camera before leaning over to tease her little girl with gentle licks. Bella squirmed, arching her back and leaning into the touch. Mistress pulled away and laughed.

“My my. Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Mistress looked into the camera then back to Bella. Her hands roamed gently across her pet as she continued, “We’re going to have plenty of fun together, aren’t we, Bella?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Bella moaned. She rolled her hips and leaned back, and even though the camera wasn’t focused on her face, the desire in her voice came through clear as a sultry bell.

Without warning, Mistress pulled at the pink lace, exposing Bella’s tender flesh. She began licking Bella’s slit, running her tongue up and down while her thumb played at the clit below. Bella whimpered, her lower half wiggling back and forth. Not that she could do much else. With each passing minute the whimpers turned to moans. Sometimes she turned to catch a glimpse of her Mistress. Other times, whether out of pleasure or wanting to keep quiet, she would release a deep guttural moan into the bed. When it was imminent Bella was near her orgasm, Mistress pulled away.

“No!” Bella pushed back, her frustration and want clear in her voice. “Mistress. Please!”

“Not yet, sweet girl. Not yet.” Mistress let out a long hush, petting Bella smooth round cheeks as if calming a tantric child. Bella whimpered. Her hands clenched and unclenched in frustration. Her toes flexed and spread. It wasn’t until the rocking of her hips slowed from boiling neediness to a low simmer that Mistress spoke again. “Why don’t we show everyone that pretty face, hmm? Turn around for me.”

Bella wiggled and rocked herself around. It was a little silly, kind of cute, and very arousing. Because of the way she was bound, the simple action took much longer than it should’ve, but involved a very lovely process of her inching her ass up and down, wiggling her hips side to side, and a lovely mixture of moans and adorable grunts. The result left the little lamb visibly tired, but she was smiling nonetheless. From the look on her face, Mistress approved.

“Well done, pet,” Mistress said. She took Bella by the chin and lifted her up for a kiss. Red lips met pink as the two moved together, shifting their faces side to side. Mistress ended the kiss with a soft bite to her pet’s lower lip before pulling away. Bella’s eyes fluttered open and her body followed her Mistress, only to be stopped by her compromised position. Still, her eyes never left her Mistress. She licked her lips and let her tongue fall out, showing the world her telltale sign of being in complete lust. “Are you well, my sweet girl?”

Bella withdrew her tongue and smiled. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Good.” Mistress smiled back. As she continued to speak, she maneuvered herself over the other girl and straddled her so the camera had a view of Bella’s face under the beautiful round ass of her Mistress. What a sight. “You’re doing so well, my sweet girl. Let’s show everyone what you look like when we play with that little ass of yours, hmm? Let them see how good it feels when I play with that naughty hole of yours. Cum for the camera, pet, let everyone see that sweet face when you cum.”

From where the camera was positioned, it wasn’t clear what happened next, but by the look on Bella’s face it was something beautiful. Her face laid sideways on the bed and shifted through varying emotions over the course of the next few minutes. She’d gasp and roll her eyes back, then bury her face in the bed with a clear desire to break free of her restraints, only to pop up and face the camera again with her tongue out wet and dripping.

As her Mistress continued her work, Bella’s squirming grew more erratic and jagged. Her breath came in shallow pants. Soon, in an explosive cry she came. The orgasm that rolled out of her was long and drawn, a sight not seen by many. Her body tensed and relaxed sporadically, a writhing body consumed in the sweet pleasure of orgasm. The only thing missing was the view of her sweet face, since she kept it buried in the edge of the bed.

There was an abrupt stop. A quick unstraddling. The Mistress disappeared from the frame and Bella was left alone. The tied, whimpering pet looked up and off to the side –most likely at her Mistress– with her eyes in dazed confusion.

The Mistress tsked. When she spoke, her voice was firm and disapproving. “Naughty girl. You didn’t do as you were told.” Bella’s brow crinkled in confusion. “I told you to show them your face, and you disobeyed.” Bella bit her lip and shrunk down at the reprimand. “Fine, if you want to hide your face, turn back around. I’ll give you a reason to scream.”

Mistress came back into frame and guided Bella around. When she did, the camera was greeted with the full view of a beautiful exposed Bella. Gone were the lace panties and in their place were lovely pink lips and smooth shaven skin.

There were a total of ten spanks. Some came by rapid fire, some delivered slowly and rubbed in. Some were soft and teasing, while others hard. Bella took each like a true champ. Still hogtied, she now had her hips propped up by pillows, further exposing her body to the world. The babydoll nightgown fell down by her shoulders, putting in view her petite frame from the curve of her spine to her soft pink cheeks, right down to the delicious trickle of wetness dripping from her pussy down the side of her leg.

“Such a naughty girl. Seems like that wasn’t much of a punishment at all, wasn’t it?” Mistress inspected her work. Firm hands caressed each ass cheek, the movement slow and deliberate, then moved down. “You didn’t cum without permission did you, pet?”

“No, Mistress.” Bella whined.

“Good. Shift to the side now so they can see your face better. Yes, I’ll move the pillows for you. It’s time to apologize for being so rude earlier. Beg for forgiveness now, and do not cum until I say so. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Bella looked back at her Mistress, a glimmer of something on her face. But she did as she was commanded and addressed the camera next. She laid her face sideways on the bed and batted her eyes. She smiled. “Hi everyone. I’m sorry for being so rude earlier…I um—”

–her eyes fluttered upwards and her speech faltered and it was obvious why. On the far left of the screen Mistress’ hands were in view. One hand resting on Bella’s hip while the other one played with her pussy. From the side view, it wasn’t clear if her fingers were going inside, but the motion hinted at them teasing her slit instead. The hand moved unpredictably, slow then fast, then slow again–

“–I–I”

“Don’t stop, pet. What are you sorry for?”

Bella bit her lip. She blinked hard and looked back to the camera, determined yet distracted. “I’m sorry for my rudeness. For hiding my face.” She blinked, swallowed, and looked to her Mistress. Off screen, the Mistress spoke. On screen, her fingers never stopped moving across Bella’s slit, teasing mercilessly at what the world already knew was a sweet wet pussy.

“Not bad, love, not bad. But we want more. Tell them why you hid your face. Tell them what I was doing to you.”

“Mistress…” Bella trailed off, twin pink dots coloured her face. Embarrassment. “I can’t–”

“You can and you will. Tell them exactly what Mistress was doing to your sweet innocent little body that made you disobey orders.”

“You were…” Bella looked at the camera. “...She was f-fucking me. Touching me. Playing with my hole. Mistress! God!”

Bella’s hips bucked up when two fingers entered her. Mistress fucked her rapidly with one arm wrapped around Bella’s leg to keep her in place. Above the writhing groans of pleasure, the Mistress called out sweetly, “Oh, pet. Don’t stop now. Keep talking.”

“Mistress, please!”

“Don’t cum yet, baby love. Only good girls get to cum. It doesn’t matter how wet you are. Or how hot and tight your sweet cunt feels in my hands. You don’t get to cum just yet. Not until you finish your apology. Now–”

“--please fuck! Please!”

“--Now tell them what Mistress was doing that made you cum so hard and hide your face.”

Bella’s answer came out in an overlapping rush of words, screamed in desperation with some words barely coherent. Her voice alternated between high whines and low growls. She was struggling. Trapped in the place between pleasure and pain and wanting so bad for release. By the end of her confession she was close to orgasm. Holding on by a thread. It was only then that Mistress’ fingers stopped.

“Such a good pet,” Mistress whispered. “You feel so good wrapped around my fingers. Pulsing. Wet. Needy. Do you want to cum, baby girl?” Slowly, she licked a line down the length of her pet’s spine, causing another symphony of frustrated moans to erupt from Bella.

“Yes!” Bella moaned the words on repeat. “Please make me cum. My pussy’s so hot and wet. Please can I cum? I need it. Please!”

“Such filthy words from your sweet mouth.” Mistress chuckled. “Very well. I think you've earned your reward."

After a brief moment of repositioning –Bella’s ass was once again front and centre and Mistress was straddling her– the fucking continued. Slow and steady, Mistress entered her pet with one finger, then two. In and out. In and out. Until everything heard on camera was simply a string of endless moans and senseless whimpering of “more more please more yes god yes." The air was thick with desire and the Mistress was ready to deliver.

With every orgasm Bella grew increasingly sensitive, and it was something her Mistress took full advantage of. When her pussy was red and swollen, the Mistress used her ass, treating the camera to a dripping wet squirming Bella who came not once, but twice in screaming succession. Then came another round of spanking, some ice play, an anal plug with a pretty pink gem, then the finale –the wand and lush. Spread wide, wet, and two holes filled, Bella came again and again at the mercy of her Mistress. By the end her body was jerking uncontrollably, wanting to get away but unable to do so.

Mistress straddled her comfortably, keeping her in place while still managing to play with her pet. The wand remained on her clit no matter which direction she twitched, and the lush moved in and out of her, bringing with it creamy white drops of cum with every orgasm. It was bliss.

One last cum and it was the end. Mistress turned off the wand and set it aside. The lush and plug were removed gently. Bella’s body continued to ride out the remainder of her orgasms, shaking and spasming. Mistress got up and sat beside her, stroking her and speaking in soft whispers.

“Oh sweet girl. You did so well.” She untied Bella and guided her limbs back to their normal positions so Bella laid on her stomach. The pillows fell off frame somewhere with a soft thud. Bella hummed. Her body was still shaking, but she was smiling, beaming at the praise. Mistress continued, massaging her slowly and kissing every inch of Bella’s body. “Mmm yes baby girl, you are loved. You were amazing today. How do you feel, angel?”

Bella smiled wide, a quick flash of flesh darted between her lips, and giggled. “Good. So good.” Her tongue dropped out again, her face the picture of bliss.

“Good, my love. Such a good girl for me. Lie there for me, you don’t need to talk anymore. Just close your eyes –yes, good girl– and feel my hands on you massaging your tight muscles. Today we pushed you hard, tested your limits, but you were brilliant. We’ll get you a nice hot bath after, won’t we? Maybe some lotion for your wrists and ankles? Your little cheeks as well. Then we’ll get you a nice meal afterwards, baby girl, and plenty of water.”

Slowly, Mistress crawled up above Bella, one body over another, and the two met with a tender kiss. Where their first was hot and sultry, ending too fast and with a bite, this one was soft and slow. Bella leaned in, shifting her upper body around. Mistress pushed her down gently, caressing her cheek with the pad of her thumb. Their eyes fluttered open and they smiled, holding each other's gaze until the Mistress whispered something. Bella nodded.

One last kiss and the camera shut off.

Sharing a fantasy scene

Mar 1, 2022, 4:01 PM

Summary: A Dom and Sub play the quiet game. But really... everyone's a winner ;)
Title: The Challenge

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. There was a hint of a smirk spreading across his face, and she felt an instant clench in her stomach. She rolled her eyes, hoping the show of bravado would hide the swirl of excitement and nervousness inside her. “Give me ten minutes of silence and you win.”

They were sitting in his study on two ridiculously posh white leather lounge chairs. She’d been reading while he finished up some work, complaining every now and again how lame it was that he had to work on what was supposed to be their day off together.

She narrowed her eyes and studied his face for clues.

She waited for the other shoe to drop. With him, there was always another shoe. A catch. They had been playing their little games for years now, keeping meticulous records of their wins and losses. Anywhere from sprints across the forest to who could hold a handstand for the longest.

What started off as schoolkid rivalry eventually grew into something more —plus a lifetime rivalry that consisted of constant challenges by way of games. The winner got bragging rights, of course, and after being the loser of the last three challenges, she was getting a little desperate for a win. Not that she was a sore loser, but more being he was an insufferable winner.

Her punishments for losing had gotten progressively more humiliating. First, he made her grovel at his feet. Literally at his feet! The second loss left her playing the role of his maid for an entire weekend, complete with a costume that was really little else than an apron that stayed up by sheer force of will. The third loss…she didn’t even want to think about it.

She got cautious after that, biding her time until a challenge came up that she was almost certain she could win. She needed this. Really needed this. Her rope burns and red swollen ass were proof of that.

“—to me.”

“What?” She blinked.

He didn’t bother hiding his smirk when he repeated. “If you can stay quiet for just ten minutes, you win. But if you speak, scream, or moan, then you’re going to dress up in that maid outfit again and record a video for all our friends at the club telling them that you’re a little naughty girl who belongs to me.”

His eyes trailed down her body as he finished, and the way his voice lowered to a growl near the end made the blood rush between her legs. She swallowed and crossed her legs, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles from her skirt to keep from meeting his eyes.

She tried her best to sound confident. “That’s it? Doesn’t sound like much of a challenge.”

He raised a brow. “Oh? We can make it fifteen if you want. Maybe twenty?”

“No,” she said. “Ten is fine.” Less time for him to pull any tricks, she thought.

“Then let’s begin.”

They both looked up to the large clock that hung above the double doors, marking the time.

They were six minutes in when it happened.

Up until then he was at his desk working, and she decided to do all the little things she knew annoyed him. Thirty seconds of tapping her pen on the glass coffee table earned her a frown, but no protests. Rearranging the items on his desk, eating chips with her mouth open, and kicking up the corners of the area rug resulted in heated glares, but still nothing. After that, she started feeling a little guilty for disturbing his work and so settled in with a sudoku, looking up at the clock every now and then to confirm the time.

As the minute hand ticked closer to the ten minute mark, she began checking the time more often, which made it all the more surprising when she turned back to her puzzle and instead found a face inches from hers.

Her hands went to her mouth in an instant, holding back a yelp. How the hell did he move so quickly and quietly without her noticing?

His hands were on the armrests of her chair, his legs on either side of hers, and he was leaning in so close she could smell his scent. He looked at her for a moment longer, eyes dark and heated.

Then he moved.

Hands went to her knees. Lips came in to grace her ear, tracing the line of her jaw then slowly down her neck. His hands, warm and rough, began to slide up.

The shift was so sudden she barely had time to register what was happening. She slapped her hands down, stopping his just as they slipped under her skirt. But with her hands blocking his, his mouth could still wander the curve of her neck, nibbling and licking her in a way that sent shivers down her spine.

Instantly she felt herself wet. Her heart raced. She clenched her legs together as tight as she could and pushed him away by the shoulders. He grabbed her wrists easily and brought them together, forcing her elbows in so her arms were pinned against her chest. He leaned in close to kiss her neck and she bit her lip to keep from moaning.

She struggled against him uselessly, trying and failing to push him back —he was playing dirty! Not fair! At least her legs were still together, he couldn’t possibly get to her like this.

As if reading her thoughts, his knee worked its way between her, giving him just enough room to work a finger through. She opened her mouth at the touch, a silent gasp in response to the sweet sensation of his fingers against her already wet sex forcing an arch in her back. She cursed at how easily he could do these things to her.

She chanced a look at the clock. Just under three minutes to go.

Desperately, she brought her legs up in an attempt to kick him away. The moment the pressure eased off her, she broke her hands free, turned, and crawled off the chair.

She could be anywhere in the house. She didn’t need to stay in the office. There was no rule about needing to stay in the same room together. If she could just get to the door—

She hit the floor hard, her knees and forearms catching her fall. She looked back to see the edge of the rug digging into her ankle. Shit. She pressed up to all fours, shaking off the pain and embarrassment at her own self sabotage.

In her moment of distraction tripping over the rug, he moved on her and she was done for. She found herself in a wheelbarrow position. She held herself up with outstretched hands while someone held her up below the waist.

She was helpless.

His tongue swirled around her sex, spit mixing in with her own juices, driving her mad. She was helpless. Utterly defensively in this position; legs up in the air and hands on the ground keep her from face planting. His hands on her waist kept her up, while also ensuring she couldn’t get away no matter how much she struggled. In fact, any struggling only resulted in more pleasure coursing through her.

She bit her lip hard to keep from moaning. She raised her head to the clock again. Just under a minute left. Just a little longer.

“Oh!” Her jaw dropped open as his tongue entered her, lapping deep and hard. At the same time his left thumb played with her clit as his hand played at her rim and opened her ass. He knew exactly what he was doing, and she didn’t even realize it when she was lowered onto the ground so her face could rest on the cool hardwood. Without the burning sensation in her arms, her body was free to feel nothing but pleasure.

Still, she struggled, testing to see if she could get away. As she moved her hips she was reminded of how useless it was. He had her trapped. She was at his mercy and the thought only made her wetter. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth as she released a deep guttural moan of pleasure.

His tongue went in deeper. In and out with an increasing pace. His fingers entered her deeper, toying with her ass and spreading her wider.

“Yes! Oh my God yes! Yes!” She writhed and bucked her hips. He held her firm, entering her deeper and deeper, sending waves of pleasure through her with every thrust. He was using her body, making her take everything he was giving her, knowing she couldn’t get away. Knowing she didn’t want to get away.

She was so lost in sensation she didn’t notice when he bent her over the arm of the lounge chair. Her panties were long gone and there was a deliciously wet something pressing against her. She looked over her shoulder as he brought a hand around her throat.

He squeezed her gently and whispered, “Who do you belong to, love?”

She licked her lips and moved back, feeling the head of his cock teasing her opening and desperately needing more. “Please,” she begged.

“Tell me, love. Then I’ll give you what you need. Now tell me,” he trailed off. He lowered to his knees and tongued her, trapping her firm against the chair. She didn’t bother to hold back her moans anymore, now openly gasping and begging for more. A hard slap on her ass cheek brought her back to reality just in time to hear him repeat his command. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“Fuck! You! It’s you. I belong to you! Now plea–ah!”

He was inside her immediately, fucking her fast and hard. In and out. Waves of ecstasy pulsing through her swollen sex. She groaned with every thrust, taking in every inch on his length, loving how easily it went in and out of her. She could feel her juices running down her legs, hear the slap of skin on skin on leather as he continued fucking her. He gripped the same armrest she was bent over, forcing himself deep inside.

She cried out, tightening around him as she came. Her body shook uncontrollably. Her knees buckled. Her back arched forward. Her eyes rolled back.

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down. He continued fucking her at the same tortuous, unrelenting speed over the armrest until she came again.

The screaming moans were permanent after her second orgasm, and instead of letting her legs close in reflex to the hard cock thrusting inside her, he spread them open, forcing her to feel the sensation of him entering her even more.

She begged him, as she always did —she always loved begging at the end. The begging turned primal, no longer asking for more, but begged for mercy. She pleaded for no more, that she couldn’t take it, that she needed a break, that his cock was too much.

Complete control. She loved giving it up. She loved the feeling of being used. Loved the feeling of helplessness. Loved giving up her body to him. When he felt her tighten around him that third time was when he came. He filled her with everything he could, letting her sweet cunt empty him and drain him of every last drop. After a few last pumps, he pulled out and took in the view.

Her body remained bent over the chair, but her legs had drifted back to the floor —gently let down after he came. Her legs were squeezed together tightly, trembling as their joined juices flowed out of her. Whimpers of pleasure bubbled from her lips in between gasps of air. He took in the softness of her body, from her smooth back to the curve of her cheeks and her strong, beautiful legs, tattoo, feet and toes.

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

He laughed, and walked in closer. He helped her upright gently and slowly till she was seated properly in the chair before kneeling down in front of her, pressing a soft kiss to one knee, then the other. “Are you okay, love? That looked like a nasty fall.”

She giggled, body still quivering from the multiple orgasms. “I’ll be fine. I can see now why you’re so paranoid about keeping the rug flat.”

“Right?” He rose to his feet and walked over to retrieve a nearby blanket, wrapping her up tightly before scooping her up in his arms. He smiled as he walked them down the hall. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable. How does a nice hot bath sound?”

She leaned in close to his chest and released a happy hum. “Music to my ears.”

~*~*~*~*~

Author note: Remember that no matter what type of scene you're doing, aftercare is important for both doms and subs. xoxo

Remember your R&R

Feb 18, 2022, 8:15 PM

Whether you're working out in the snow or sun, staring at a computer screen for 8 hours a week, or getting bitten, scratched, and pooped on by humans/animals, the end of a work week can be a welcomed relief. It's now time to kick back and reenergize!

If you know me, you know my schedule started off as sporadic nights and a "Self-Care Sunday" stream. This has since evolved into my regular weekend mornings with Sundays being pretty set in stone. If you follow me on Snapchat, you know I take my bath time seriously, and that's because it's my designated 'me time'. For me, myself, and I.

Now the way I recharge and the way you recharge can be completely different. Some recharge by themselves while others recharge around others. No matter your preferred method, recognizing your body's needs and taking the time to satisfy those needs is absolutely essential if you want to stay fresh and be ready to go by the time Monday morning rolls around--in this example, we all work Monday-Friday and have weekends off. Feel free to customize this for you! And besides, days off are a wonderful time to pamper yourself.

In a previous life, my week consisted of lifting, reaching, crouching, leaning, climbing, and LOTS of standing/walking. I'm grateful that my body is still in pretty good shape, but there are some days when I am ready to collapse the moment I clock out. It's those nights that I just looove taking a nice warm bubble bath to soothe those sore muscles!

Anywho...there isn't much more to say in this post. I just wanted to check in with everyone and hopefully send out a friendly reminder to take care of yourselves. I believe that no matter how busy or chaotic life gets, one should always set aside time for some R&R -- rest and relaxation!

How do YOU get you R&R?

The Soft-Spoken Warrior

Feb 17, 2022, 10:00 PM

I was never a loud student. I didn't yell or scream or clap my hands and hit tables to get my voice heard. I'd watch class debates in amusement because they always seemed to end with an absurd amount of noise. Still, I admired those people. Because they were louder, they got their voices heard and their ideas credited to them. Meanwhile, any of my ideas or jokes or moments of wit either disappeared into the air or were mistaken for someone else's idea, joke, or moment of wit.

There are, of course, moments when I don't mind being the silent supporter. Sometimes it's best to know when to step out of the spotlight and into the shadows. Many people in the world do great things every day without the need for recognition. Is it selfish of me then, to be upset when someone else takes credit for something I've said or done? I guess it depends.

Most of the time I love being the "quiet one." While I still have a long way to go, I do my best to think through an argument rationally. I think it catches people off guard to see such a small girl speak to them with quiet calmness --that, and I tend to be mistaken as a 16-year old even though I'm approaching my 30s. This amazing balance of rational, calm, quiet confidence especially in high-stress situations or arguments is something I definitely wish to work towards in my future.

I recently came across a wonderful article by Susan Cain, which talks about a secret superpower many introverts possess:

"I have learned that introverts, thanks to their tendency to speak quietly and reasonably, to ask questions, and to listen to the answers, can make unusually strong negotiators. My introverted talents have helped in a range of tricky situations, from navigating mergers for corporate clients to convincing my kids to eat their broccoli.

"And striking deals isn't the only thing introverts do well. Some of our most transformative leaders have been shy or introverted: Abraham Lincoln, Eleanor Roosevelt, Rosa Parks. All of them were more focused on their causes than on their egos."

-- Susan Cain, author of Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking

I love this article because it looks at things from another person's perspective while still considering so much on the author's feelings and experiences as she tells her story. Cain, accused of trying to cheat her way onto a train, refrains from lashing out defensively at the conductor. Instead she thinks through the situation, asks questions, and solves the problem all without needing to raise her voice once.

It's an incredible talent that I wish to have one day. Getting defensive and angry is so debilitating and incredibly inefficient yet for so many of us it seems to be the default reaction when we feel cornered.

Being soft-spoken doesn't make you weak or your argument any less valid. Quite the opposite! It shows others you're thinking and not trying to undermine them. It requires no insults, no psychological manipulation (e.g. guilt tripping someone), and suffers no backlash.

Quiet strength is becoming dangerously scarce. While no one denies that the Alpha Dog approach can be useful in many situations, we mustn't undervalue the softer, quieter aspects that have been characteristic of so many successful writers, composers, and world leaders.

Tell them their wonder

Feb 16, 2022, 9:05 PM

Previously, we talked about the importance of telling people what's on your mind. There, I focused more on telling others when you're upset or angry with them, instead of relying on others to just know the reason behind your frustration.

Today, in light of Valentine's and all those damn chocolate hearts and enormous stuff animals, I want to focus more on the positives of telling others how we feel.

It may sound cheesy, it may feel weird, and for some it can be damn near impossible to do, but telling someone how much you admire or appreciate them can mean the world to some. I'm not talking about your mother's "mind your p's and q's" either.

Back in my days of avian rehabilitation, I was helping one of the staff apply ointment to the feet of some crows. I sat outside the flight cage preparing the medication as she went inside to catch each crow. The birds had developed some strange warts on their feet and as a precaution we decided to medicate every crow's feet - cause Avain pox is no joke!! As we sat outside the flight cage, crow on her lap, I handed her the medicine as she went along her duties. It could've been a very stressful situation, catching and examining and medicating each crow, but I never felt so calm. We worked slowly yet deliberately, and she took the time to explain to me what we were doing and why we were doing it. I had watched her interactions with the summer volunteers before, and never felt the need to say anything. But watching her and hearing her speak, so willing to teach me something I knew nothing about, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"You're such an amazing teacher," I blurted out.

She smiled and thanked me, but for some odd reason I continued to explain why I thought she was such an amazing teacher. She was kind, spoke clearly, and always followed up with the volunteers under her care. I probably sounded like a very strange little girl in that moment, but I didn't care. I just really wanted her to know I thought she was amazing!

It may be strange to say and even stranger to hear, but telling others what you like, admire, or even love about them can be a really great thing. And why not give 'em something to smile about?

Don't ever strive for perfect

Feb 15, 2022, 8:30 PM

[Author note: so this was my first ever blog post in my online journal...I'll tell you one thing, it ain't all candies and rainbows]

Let me tell you a story...

When I was younger, just a little girl, I was your average kid: I played with Beanie Babies; I went to school and played with friends; I caused trouble. I made mistakes. Sometimes I'd forget to take out the garbage or empty the dishwasher. Other times I'd break things and bang on the piano in frustration when things just weren't working out.

My father, the disciplinarian of the household, would simply raise his voice (in Cantonese) and grumble, "You're no good." Worthless. And though he meant it in a hey, knock it off, type sentiment, those words stung me and will probably stay with me till the day I die.

worth·less
worth·lessˈwərTHləs
adjective
having no real value or use."that promise is worthless"
synonyms: valueless;

Deserving contempt. Good-for-nothing. Useless. Those were the words I grew up with. Every single time I made a mistake, big or small, out they'd come. My dad doesn't say it anymore. We had a pretty emotional talk in the car one day about it. But even though he doesn't say it anymore, doesn't mean the hurt is gone.

I'm still going to think I'll never be good enough. I'm still going to believe that if I ask for help I'll be admitting to the world I'm weak. I'm still setting unreachable goals and standards and beating myself up when I can't reach them. I will always think that if I don't understand something right away, I'm an idiot.

And making mistakes, even something as simple and common as misspelling a word or forgetting a phone number, will always leave me suffocating under what I fear most: the feeling of worthlessness. The forever-present monster inside me goading me to believe that I am worthless.

A World of No Minder Readers

Feb 15, 2022, 11:00 AM

You hear it all too often, when a friend or family member (or random stranger two tables over) vents out their frustrations. Maybe their husband snapped at them for asking too many questions. Or perhaps a friend is giving them the silent treatment for 'no good reason'. You’ve probably heard the curses of a girlfriend, upset with her boyfriend who’s 'acting like he did nothing wrong when he should very well know he was flirting with that redhead at the bar last night!'

Over time, you start to pick up on a common theme. Something like “S/he should know how I feel!” or “S/he should know what they did was wrong/stupid/insensitive/hurtful” — you can insert pretty much anything here and you can’t go wrong.

It seems that everyone expects others to be able to automatically know. You should know when your boyfriend needs space to be with the guys; you should know what you did or said or didn’t do or didn’t say to make your friend so upset; your partner should know that the reason you’re asking so many questions is so you can plan around their schedule, accordingly. People should just know these things.

On the flip side…

Now let’s look at things from a different angle. Have you ever spent your night staring at the screen of your phone, reading and rereading your message history with that certain someone, obsessing over the possibility that you’ve said something wrong or maybe didn’t say something when you should’ve? Maybe you go through your day with a situation on instant replay, wondering if you should’ve said this or done that. Maybe you spend the week worrying that you said something that left a bitter aftertaste at the end of what seemed to be a perfect date.

We spend so much of our time filling ourselves with anger and confusion that sometimes we forget just how simple it is to reach out and say something.

In relationships, it’s so easy to fall under the impression that this person, who you’ve known for months or years, knows you inside out, backwards and forwards. At times it can be amazing and it seems as though they can read your mind and vice versa. We take advantage over these small moments of brilliance, unable to appreciate this light until a shadow appears. It’s in times of disagreement, frustration, and anger that we expect this clairvoyance to emerge stronger than ever, only to see our expectations crushed. We then end up stuck in a place of confusion and hurt because we’re angry at this person who should know why you’re angry at them and they. just. aren’t. getting it!

“But maybe if you told her…I’m sure if she knew how you felt–”

“Yeah, but the thing is, I shouldn’t have to tell her. She should know.”

The unfortunate reality is that we don’t live in a world of mind readers –on second thought, that’s probably a good thing. Sometimes it’s easier to just say how you feel and why you’re feeling the way you’re feeling. Just get it all out there. What have you got to lose? Your feelings are your own, and in order for someone else to understand, sympathize, or even empathize with your feelings you have to tell them.

As strong as a relationship can be, simple things like explaining your feelings can still be a challenge. But if it’s a choice between cluttering my mind with thoughts, holding a grudge, or getting something off my chest by telling others how you feel? I know which option I'd pick.

Give it a try. It’ll be worth it. I promise.

Why are you here?

Feb 15, 2022, 6:33 AM

One of the most common questions I'm asked, but I'm happy to comply.

"What made you decide to become a cam girl?"

Well, the idea of this has been on my mind intermittently throughout the years. I mean, who among us hasn't heard the idea being thrown around on the internet or at some party in university/college? How many of us have found themselves on the rough end of life wondering what it would be like to work in the sex industry to earn quote-unquote "instant wealth"?

I'm not ignorant to the fact that earning a little extra income wasn't a factor in the decision, but there are other ways to start a side hustle. And let's face it, caming won't be forever.

The week(s) leading up to me turning on my webcam involved research and a dive into my whys -- ahh yes, in case you didn't figure it out already, I'm an introvert and a class over-thinker.

I won't get into all the nitty-gritty details, but I came here to safely explore my sexuality. To rediscover something I've been very much out of touch with for years. Another strong reasoning was a desire to reconnect with others, which felt increasingly hard to do given where I live and the current state of the world.

So there you have it. Relatively short and sweet. A sexual rediscovery, desire for novel connections, and the beautiful freedom that comes with disposable income.

...and thus, LeahBella was born!

Self Reflection

Jan 2, 2022, 5:44 AM

Self-reflection can help to aid many internal struggles.

It can be a very conscience and deliberate action, when one needs to ponder the inner workings of the mind. Why am I feeling this way? Why did I do what I just did? If I do X, how will that effect Y and Z?

There are times when self-reflection comes in times of unexpected need, and our bodies are typically good at knowing when something is out of balance. Like how sheep know how to self-medicate by eating certain plants, or how they purposely surround themselves with healthy individuals. Your body is good at telling you when something is wrong, and it is important to heed the call.

Maybe it's the move; maybe it's the craziness of working x number of jobs; maybe it's dehydration. It could be a combination of sugar, spice, and everything nice with a dose of Chemical X. Maybe it's a friend or loved one slowly breaking your heart.

Maybe the shadows have kidnapped your emotions, leaving you numb from joys and pains. Maybe you've found yourself staring up into what used to be the light at the opening of a well you've fallen into, wondering where the hell you put that ladder or if it's even long enough to be bothered with.

Take a breath. Take two. And keep breathing. Keep living. I promise you're not alone.

Find the strength to put one foot in front of the other. Find the courage to step into the light and face the world another day. Smile at someone. Love yourself. Be free.

Past, present, future

Jan 2, 2022, 5:28 AM

I sometimes wonder about the people of my past. Memories that make me laugh; make me sad; invoke thought and inspiration; make me boil with anger.

I think about all these ghosts. I think about who I've let in and trusted. I remember those I let slip through the cracks. I remember shutting the door so firmly on others so fast and with so much vigor that both sides were left with splinters. I think about who made the cut and who I've cut from the list. And I wonder who's list I've made and been erased from.

I wondering if in 5 years I'll remember the bitter fights or if it'll all be a thing of the past because of how inconsequential it all was. Even remembering events a few years ago, while still irritating, has faded in its pain.

I ask myself who I will still call friend in 5, 10, 30 years from now. Who will I anger? Who will let me down.

They say hindsight is 20-20. But those who always look behind never see the wonder of what's ahead and what is the present.

I think it is of the utmost importance to let go of resentment we've felt towards people of our past. While not immediate, simply being open to the idea can lift a weight off your shoulders and train your mind to continue moving forward. The past is passed. Take from it what you can, and carry on.

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