The Last Post

Posted 13 February 2007

Dear Friends,

After a great deal of soul searching I have decided that it's time to call it a day with my online diary, and this time there will be no resurrection, of that I am sure. Ironically I'm not stopping out of fear of being recognised or because I'm tired of writing (in fact I've loved writing the recent entries because events are now moving much faster than I had anticipated). No, quite simply I have regrettably become a victim of my own success and I can no longer handle the feedback from readers. It has just become too much for me.

As I've said before, the diary isn't the centrepiece of my life. It's been a wonderful exercise to complement the development of my lifestyle and my new relationships, and I will continue to write it for years to come, exactly in the format as you see it now. Putting it online was a real bonus, a way of extending my exhibitionism to a much wider audience. It's been thrilling to receive so many compliments and letters of support and admiration, and along the way I feel I have made many friends, especially those readers who have been with me from the very early days.

Because I have done so much to encourage adoration and worship of me, I can have no complaint that so many men now give me feedback and want to express their feelings, concerns and hopes about me and the issues I have raised in the diary. In addition I am now receiving email from many women too, some of them tempted by the cuckolding lifestyle I describe, with others wanting guidance as to how they should proceed to incorporate domination into their relationship without undermining it.

Apart from the recent disturbed ramblings of a couple of weirdos which I am sure I could ultimately have ignored, I have had no problem whatsoever with the content of the mail I am receiving. I find it interesting (indeed, in many cases it's fascinating) and of course you know me by now - I just love having compliments paid to me. And as you saw in the last post I made, some of the suggestions you make have directly influenced my actions. Email is a way for me to judge how my writings are being received - what readers like, their favourite posts and photos, and what they would like to hear more about. It's also a way for me to learn more about the men and women who actually take the time to read my narrative. It's certainly given me a wider perspective on the issues of domination and cuckoldry.

The problem however is one of logistics. Each man or woman who writes to me wants my focus to be on him or her. In the case of a man who desires me, he wants to feel that he is that little bit closer to me than others; that he is special to me, or that perhaps if I get to know him more intimately then maybe one day we could perhaps meet and take things further. Or perhaps he just wants an online pen friend, a woman who at last understands his longings and needs; who won't look upon him with scorn or derision, because she shares the same desires as him.

Others write to discuss their inner conflicts. Primarily they are tormented by the fact that they have a partner whom they deeply love but they know will never accommodate their sexual tastes. The life they are living is a lie, but they can see no way out of this dilemma without losing badly one way or another. Can you help me, Maria? What would you advise?

Then there are the men who pretend to be women. Maybe Maria will talk to a woman more than a man... Maybe we can become 'friends' like she is with Alison and she'll agree to meet me in London for a girls' night out... Guys, after all that I've written, all the insights I've given into how I know men think, do you really imagine that you could fool me? But it was amusing, I'll grant you that. And I told you what you wanted to hear, didn't I?

The list goes on and on. I've written a story for you Maria... I've attached some pictures I know you'd love... Can you train my wife to be a domina please? She's willing to be tutored by you... If I cuckold my husband will it all end in tears do you think?... Please will you read my weblog and give me your comments... Can you tell me where you get your clothes from? Especially the leather mini you wore in your latest post... Can I meet you?... Can I be your slave?... Will you accept money in exchange for sex?... Are you selling your underwear?... Can I buy your videos?...

I find it absolutely impossible to ignore such correspondence. I feel that people who have taken a great deal of time and trouble to write to me deserve a response which reciprocates their own efforts. It's not enough to just give a brief line or two of acknowledgment, and even worse to ignore it. Furthermore, many individuals who write to me have opened up in a way that they admit they have never done before to anyone else, even giving their real names as they do so. I have been accorded the privilege of being both trusted and respected enough for men and women to believe that they can confide their thoughts to me without compromising either themselves or their loved ones. It's not really possible to pay someone a higher compliment than that.

The person who has spent the good part of an evening composing their detailed letter to me eventually hits the 'Send' button in their mail program, and then they wait... and wait... and wait. What they perhaps don't realise is that elsewhere in the world that day another six or seven men and women have done the same thing. But hey, that's not that bad is it? Seven emails? What's the deal?

Well, if it were just once a week then no, it might not be that bad. But this happens day after day after day. It never stops, not for a single day. If I'm not around to check my mail for a couple of days then I've got twenty messages to reply to. And bear in mind that many of these emails are effectively the same as others I've had before, yet I can't return some sort of pro-forma response. Every message deserves (and has always received) a unique, dedicated reply.

Because I give serious thought to my responses and write more than a few words, many writers take this as a signal that I want to converse with them regularly. Perhaps we will have a weekly exchange - what's happening in our lives, what we've done, how work was, yada, yada. So now I get more messages from that person, and it all starts over again.

I hope you can see my dilemma here. The diary has become a burden, not a pleasure. Logging on to deal with my mail has become my least favourite chore of the day, and I'll be quite frank with you: I've had enough. I'm at the stage where I cannot be fussed to reply any more to my mail, and that is unforgivable considering the effort that writers have made.

I've put this post up so quickly because the situation is worsening as readership of the diary increases. I'm sitting with my mailbox full of waiting messages again, and I simply have to put an end to it all. I can assure you that I am gutted, absolutely gutted to have to close down the diary. In truth I'm very proud of it, not in any way because I think I'm a gifted writer, but because I think I have given a really honest account and assessment of the last decade or so of my life, of my feelings, and my plans. Sure, I've chopped and changed over the last eighteen months, but that's life isn't it? That's what we all do as people and circumstances change our outlook. As I read back through my writings I don't think there is anything that I'd want to change. I wince sometimes at some of the things I've said, but the whole point is that at the time I said them, that's what I believed and felt.

I'll always be the eternal exhibitionist, and I like the pictures I've put up in my posts. I've got many, many more to show as well. Consequently I've decided that some time in the next couple of months I will take down the current diary entries and replace them, either with pages that reflect upon the original posts, or with a considerably toned down narrative that avoids mention of my more extreme experiences (i.e. pretty much all of them). What you can be sure of is that the diary will completely lose its essence, and I would recommend that all of you who have followed and enjoyed my posts leave the site alone, never visiting it again. It will no doubt draw some new onlookers, those who want to see a few free pics of a woman in leather and rubber, but what I hope I will avoid is the deep interest in me as a person which has led to such demands on my time.

I don't know how many times I can stress this, but I want to say it once again: there is no one to blame but myself for how this has worked out. I want to thank all of you, every last one of you, for your feedback and friendship; for your ideas, your trust, and your support. Jeeze, there's a tear rolling down my cheek now, and that's something that a domina shouldn't admit to.

It's been a wild ride, everyone. And if you're ever in a London hotel and see a good-looking girl in thigh length leather boots sitting at the bar with a disinterested expression on her face, ask her if she likes Tia Maria. You might just get more than you bargained for.

Farewell from Maria

To contact me, email maria at this site