Prologue

My Temple of Worship

This is much more than a collection of dirty stories and sexy photos. This is an act of devotion to my obsession. It’s an ecstatic expression. It’s a burning need. There is no other way. This is my fetish given substance.

Some want the pleasure and pain that can be brought with a caress followed by a whip. Some want the denial of being bound by ropes and teased with the inability to act. I have explored this world of eccentric hedonism, thinking I’d find something to satisfy my unrelenting craving.

It was not enough.

I want sensation to reach deeper than flesh. I want it to sting my very soul. This is my particular breed of masochism – longing.

Through my stories, I can have without ever being allowed to touch. Through my photos, I can give myself without ever being taken.

The Stories

Without the written word, I would have shrivelled up and died inside long ago. I fill journals about the mundane details of life, scribble random notes on scraps of paper that end up on the floor and are forgotten. I collect beautiful things I read or hear in a treasured leatherbound book. I write stories about magic, long, exhausting love letters, and sad goodbyes to my dying houseplants. Without the written word, I would suffocate; it is how my soul escapes the prison of my body and the snare of a reluctant voice.

Welcome to my world. Here, you are mine.

The Photos

All photos on this site are unadulterated images of me. I blossom under the camera, relish the careful caress of the lens, simmering under the lights and the rising heat of my blood. This too is our shared pleasure.

My readers may commission a photo shoot, inviting them to have me through the art of imagery. These photos may illustrate one of my stories or serve as your personal indulgence.

Maybe I’m the shy woman sitting at the end of the bar, you’ve seen my face, but have you seen me? Perhaps our looks met as I passed you on the street and you looked away first, not knowing what you’d missed.

I am no one.
I am everyone.
I am anyone you want me to be.

Patronage

It is the kindness of strangers that keeps Alyssa Forelsket alive. This world belongs to both of us. Here is how to tend it. I exist solely by virtue of the Tinkerbell effect: only because you believe in me; only because you want me to be real.

There are many ways you can become a patron and make it possible for this private world of ours to flourish.