The perfect sub…

There’s plenty of things I’m madly sure about. She exists and I’ve met her. I don’t think there are stereotypes in my world, but I think it’s the perfect relation between person and dominance that makes of this world the perfect subject. Surely, and I’m fully convinced of it, the perfect sub isn’t skinny, rather she’s a curvy with a lot of bends you can put your hands on.
She has either blue or green eyes, that take your breath away, ready to give you pleasure with every hit. The Lower eyes rule is bullshit to me. I can’t avoid letting her look at me. It boosts my ego up. She’s got pretty hands, to be look at close, held together by a rope and ready to graze your body to let her know you’re there, that you’re ready to get the best of her.
And fundamental thing, colorful hair, She must have it! Ready to be pulled, looked at, observed.. It’s the perfect union between looking and getting looked at. Well, the basic part needs to peek out from the underwear pulled down on the ground, it must be firm, soft.
It has to be able to take the hits and make unique sounds. That sound you’re reminded of every time someone talks to you about BDSM or Bondage. There’s no similar sound in nature. And I’m convinced of it. I usually don’t look at an ass on the streets, it’s not for me. But I observe it and use it when there’s something to play with.

“High heels put the butt on a pedestal, that is its place” – Veronica Webb

But let’s go back to her. She has to be respectful, but with that hair she can do nothing but be a rebel, ready to dare you, put herself in the center of attention and have fun with your being sadistic.

Yeah, I think I know who the perfect sub is.
I hope I don’t lose her on the way, life is full of pitfalls, isn’t it?!


Morning calls…

I’ve always hated phone calls. I’ve changed a lot under this point of view, lately. I’d still, just as before, rather look at a person in the eyes, make them fantasize, make them feel my presence, maybe in front of a coffee or a nice appetizer.
Alcohol brings advices, weird ones, but stil advices.

But this is not a alcohol story, but a long one, cause it lasted a long time.

“I need to hear you every morning before I head to work”

So every morning, just like a Swiss watch, at 7.01 am, from Monday to Friday, she used to get out of the house and call me. We used to talk on the phone for half an hour and I often heard her panting. Her voice was relaxing, suave. But she told me her things and “toured Australia”, as a toy, as a pleasure to share with a perfect stranger distant 500 km. But yet, I enjoyed it so much, because despite everything, my home situation wasn’t going the right way and every single attention I could get was a motivation.
I met her on an IRC chat, I never saw her, if not in pictures. But despite everything, it was intriguing.
A ton of months have passed, way too many. But I can’t forget her voice that easily.

Who knows where she ended up. If she follows me, if she hides among those people who “stalk “ me.
I’m trying again…
Call me! Maybe tomorrow at 7.01 am!


Neapolitans (pt. 1)

Among my fair share of experiences, I enjoy remembering a pretty intriguing situation. My dominating nature, has sometimes made me meet people I’d never had the chance to meet in real life.
I definitely remember one of my experiences with a gay couple, I met them on a meeting chat, both of them were Neapolitans, both of them buff, one with blue eyes and the other one with chestnut eyes. They’re fashion bloggers and they (obviously) work in the fashion world, where they can express themselves as best as they can.
It was a summer night, we’re talking about 2015, I was a very demanding car dealer and my sexuality was pretty poor, to say the least, with my ex girlfriend. We hade a coffee in the same bar known to be a meet up place in the nightlife of Novara, we agree on what to do and off we go. I had my car and they had theirs. I follow them.
I remember during the ride I was overthinking about everything, mainly because I knew I was doing something a little out of the usual, and I wanted to fo it WELL!
We meet up in their driveway, I get out of the car and we get into the elevator. I just remember facing the elevator door and they were turned towards me, checking out my firm butt peeking through my skinny jeans by looking at the mirror. I felt like my presence was very welcome by their bodies as the testosterone was wandering in the air of that elevator, that was, then, saturated with masculine perfume.
So the elevator doors opened up on their floor, we got inside the house and they left me in the living room, looking at their black and white pictures, pictures of a happy couple. What I remember of that room is the softness of that sofa and the lingering smell. It was relaxing. So they got in the living room, we sat at the table and, while sipping a beer, they explained to me what they did in their intimacy. Their favourite game was licking each other everywhere! They defined themselves as “fetishists” and they were overjoyed of their shameless attention towards feet. So, finishing up the last drop of beer, we headed towards their bedroom and i remember that looking at the end of the bed, voluntarily, there were hooks typically used in domination. I found the armchair, eased myself and ordered them to show me what they would’ve been able to do of so exciting and intriguing to each other…

(it continues)


If we could

We live in an era made of prejudices, false myths and taboos. We’re in 2018 and we still have to get pointed at for who we are and who we’re not.

When I started my journey, a lot of people started looking at me from head to toe thinking I was crazy, someone who was a half mad man in his sexual life, someone who was barely able to get an erection and came way too fast.
Thanks to them, I’m now who I wanted and I’ll always want to be.

But it’d be appropriate for everyone to think about their sexuality lightly, as if going grocery shopping and buying that cake that you know you’re gonna eat tasting the pleasure of getting something special that’s gonna fill your stomach and hips.

My communication guru used to say “people buy with their guts and justify with their head”.

That’s the sexual mistake, or the biggest one human beings make, more generally speaking. There’s nothing as selective and boring as our brain that puts itself between us and our pleasure.

So, if we could, in 2019 let’s try and open up a little bit more about our sexuality and enjoy sex a little more without faking the whole politically correct thing.

“Oh, orgasm! You’re a ray of the divine! Or rather, aren’t you the divine itself?” (Jean-Charles Gervaise de Latouche)


My first contest…

Thinking back to a lot of things, ine of the most beautiful experiences I had the chance to have has actually been competing against 350 people.
I used to live with my ex girlfriend and I remember I’ve been invited to this event in Milan on Facebook.
It consisted of sending pictures of my hands, both of them obviously, without any ring nor tattoo and it was split into 2 phases. Beauty and use.
Beauty, well it’s pretty clear, right?
A jury made of 23 girls, was inspecting your hands and they were giving points from 1 to 10. I got 210.
I passed the first round and I took with me about 200 aspiring winners.
The use consisted of choosing one of the 23 girls and “masturbate” her.
I had to do this test 3 times. With 3 different girls.
We ended up being 5 participants. What could they do? They created another test with a girl, the girl who organized the event.
I remember that last trial very well.
She was about 5 ft 5, curvy…
A brunette with icy blue eyes that could kill any men who looked at her from head to toe.
What I remember of her was her yellow lipstick.
I got in stage, it was me and her, I was the second to last of us 5 contestants.
She sat on the armchair, spread her legs and told me: COME ON, BOY, GO LOOKING FOR MY OH SO DENSE TEARS!
I knelt down in front of her.
Looking at her in the eyes, without I word, I stripped off of my cardigan and rolled up my sleeves, ever so slowly… and I kept showing my jewel… My hands…
At first I put the thumb of my right hand on her clitoris and I didn’t see any reaction.
So using the index and middle finger of my left hand I uncovered the clit and then with the index finger of my left hand, after wetting it with my tongue, while I still kept my gaze on her eyes, I put it in her love button. I remember it was soft, it smelt good…
That’s when, apparently, she started to like the game.
Once I was able to find the perfecy position I took away my index and middle finger of my left hand. I wet them a little bit and slowly started to wander for her orifice, a little lower.
Her head, hanging low, gave away the gesture and moment were right.
So I slipped in my finger slowly, inch by inch, with the palm of my hand turned downwards…
“The gun” was served. And it was already pretty exciting in its own. But I needed more.


So I stood up, got to her right side, knelt down and shifted my gaze back to her. Her eyes were always there, observing me and my trophies.
The index finger of my left hand went back to look for her wet, excited and puffed by the pleasure clit..
The index finger of my right hand, along with the middle onex were slipping inside her ever so slowly. Just like in an amazing Latin American dance, grinding and entering…
But I had to exaggerate…
So I turned my palm upwards and my fingers curled up looking for her spot of extreme pleasure. I felt her bone ready to get hit by my fingers…
While my hands were working together, synchronized, and her eyes rolled back, giving away her hedonism, she touched, with her hands, my hand, the one on her clit and yelled: BOY, DON’T STOP MOVING THEM!
And I, what could I do? It was a pleasure…
But I knew I could do more…
I still had my thumb, ring and pinky fingers of my right hand free..
In a moment of pure madness, I put took away my hand, spit on every finger and put back in my index and middle finger and tried to use my ring and pinky finger and (with some difficulties) tried to glide over her small hole… She was liking it more and more! So I got up again, put myself back in front of her and I put my left thumb on her clitoris, with my index and ring finger inside of her, looking for her softest spot and the ring finger of my right hand was happily playing with her hole which was relaxing and contracting taking her to a huge orgasm, squirting…
I was sweaty, full of her juice and satisfied.

Points… 10 out of 10…

I never talk bad about my opponents, but about me, I can say I did a pretty great job!


What’s BDSM to me…

I got into this vicious cycle six years ago after they dragged me in…
That woman’s been my first time. What a weird feeling if I think about it…
I came home crying and I had my ex girlfriend home waiting for me.
I remember I got inside and ran straight to the bathroom, I looked myself in the mirror and thought: “What am I doing?”.
Yet she told me it would’ve been easier.
The scene of her, laying on that bed with four whips ( one of which was so beautiful, a circus one) and some dildos scattered around on the bed, still replays in my head every time I start my roping round…
It’s been six years and, despite everything, the memory’s still alive… Who knows why?!
Maybe because I’ve always pictured it in a different way, maybe because just hitting, considering the violence I’ve suffered from inside the four walls I called home, seemed like something out of any logic.
Then the “Fifty Shades” saga came out.
I remember an amazing scene…
When my ex girlfriend forced me to go with her and get the first book… In a very well known bookshop in Novara…
And even though she doesn’t know, I read all those books right after she did.
Out of curiosity? Maybe…
So what’s BDSM to me?
Well… A lifestyle??? It could be…


My first article.

Let’s start with this new adventure made of passion, stories and a whole lot of fun…

I’m gonna introduce myself, I’m MRSIX, they gave me this nickname a few years ago cause it sounded a lot like “sex”, but they still wanted to hide it a bit from the obnoxious world that circles around this noun.

Here you’ll be able to find stories, either made up or not, life experiences and maybe some kind of advice.

It’s been so long since I wanted to open my own space, I’ve got way too many things to tell and I often need to write down some ideas I can share…
Hope you enjoy it…

Talk to you soon!