play

Everyone Else Disappears

· February 6, 2012 · Thoughts · , · 3 Comments

I’m writing this just moments after getting a good solid beating so bear that in mind.

There is a point when you are playing at a public party, a point where the world shifts and reality changes.  At first it’s a very small shift but then it widens to envelope everyone in the room but Sade and I.  It muffles them and makes them blurry while Sade becomes clearer to me.  Then there’s a different point. It’s just a little bit further but it’s where everyone in the room disappears.    A point where everyone else just fades away and Sade becomes the only person in the room.

Just another moment layer and that spot becomes bigger and she’s not just the only person in the room bit the only person in the universe.

For a moment it’s just us and there’s nothing better than that feeling.  For a moment there’s no work, no bills to pay or family members to worry about, politics to think about or anything in the universe but her.

It’s peaceful.

I’m sure anyone watching would disagree but it’s one of the few times when my mind isn’t thinking about anything. I don’t need to worry about waking the neighbors with my screams and she doesn’t need to bother them with loud cracks slaps and thuds.

It’s so peaceful, this place with her where there’s noting but us.

Fuckless Fucking

· January 22, 2009 · Thoughts · , , , , , , · 5 Comments

Almost all of my experiences in BDSM have been non-sexual. That is to say, most of my experiences have been play that didn’t include penetrative sex.   

Up until a few years ago I never would have thought that any kind of play without intercourse would have been worthwhile. Back then I always felt it was something that was supposed to go hand in hand with sex. First the spanking, then the bondage, teasing and then the fucking. It was more of a kind of foreplay in my mind more than something that could be appreciated alone.

Then I moved to New York.

It was difficult to make the transition at first. The only people I’d play with would be those I also wanted to sleep with. That made me feel a little rejected at first. After all, I was playing with them because I was attracted to them, weren’t they attracted to me too? Wasn’t that the reason why they wanted to play with me?   

Over time I began to get used to the feeling of playing for the sake of playing. I could enjoy getting tied up or whipped and just enjoy it for what it was: Fun!

Sure I still have difficulty in reading some people at first. I’ll still sometimes have a barrage of questions running through my brain:

“Is she doing this because I’m fun to play with or because she’s attracted to me?”   

“Is she saying she want’s to do more than just tie me up?”

Most of the people I happen to have these mini-scenes with are those I’m already friends with. It’s much easier to let my mind go and enjoy the bondage, the flogging or whatever wonderful thing she’s putting me through. There’s something nice about just letting go and not needing to wonder about what comes next when I know that there is nothing next. I can just sink in and enjoy the experience.

It’s difficult do describe since there is a feeling of sexual tension and intimacy involved.  Especially when it’s with someone I know and like. There’s a closeness that comes from it. It’s unspoken but it’s there.

I like to think these experiences have helped me become a better submissive (Hmm Let me rephrase). I hope these experiences have helped me become a better submissive to someone I have a chance of having sex with. Most of the time I can just focus on the moment and not be caught up on wanting to rush to the sex.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m still thinking with my cock, but my cock is just more patient now.

Kinda.

Curious Things

· October 25, 2008 · Thoughts · , , , , , , , , , , , , , · 8 Comments

I was asked to make a list of the things I’m most curious about. Thing I’ve had on my must-try-before-I-die list.

Chastity- Maymay wrote about his extended chastity here. Obviously my daydreams aren’t nearly as close as what the reality would probably be. I imagine being locked up and taken out whenever she (whoever she is) wants me. More of an anti-masturbation device than a no-orgasm device. Who knows, maybe she’ll want me locked up for longer durations, or maybe not locked up at all.

CBT- I have limited experience in this area but the hints of it that I’ve experienced have been eye opening. Probably because there are a million wonderfully evil things a woman can do in this area. As with all kinds of pain, it’s limited to those who really get off on giving pain. I hate the idea of feeling pain anywhere but I love the idea of taking the pain for someone who gets off on giving it. Everything from sounds, bondage, clamps, clothespins, you name it and I’m curious about it. The mental image of sounds is enough to make me whimper.

Anal play- I’ve experienced strap-on play a few times. A few times isn’t nearly enough. I’ve only experienced the wonders of the prostate once for maybe a minute. My head nearly exploded. There’s also something very intriguing about plugs and hooks. I have no idea what the appeal of anal play is for a dominant woman. Is it the idea of violating a man? I know what the appeal is on my end of things but the motivation for a woman escapes me. If I knew the motivation it might help me find someone to motivate into doing it.

Predicament Bondage- I was talking to someone the other night who mentioned how much she loved doing it to her boyfriend. I hadn’t thought much about it until I saw how much she loved it. Her face lit up with this genuine evil smile. It’s motivated me enough to read more about it and keep my eyes open for someone with an evil smile.

Electrical play- Nuff said. This is a big question mark for me. I’ve heard it can be either very painful or very pleasurable.

Hypnosis- I’ve heard it’s intense.

Owned- I know now that my previous goal (I wrote about it here) of having a weekend where I was totally owned and controlled by someone is totally unrealistic. Finding someone who wants to own me for a few hours might be more attainable.

Submissive Or Slave?

· October 18, 2008 · Events · , , , , , , , · 20 Comments

I had an interesting yet frustrating conversation with someone who questioned why I call myself submissive and not a slave.

For those of you that don’t know, there always seems to be a big argument in the BDSM community over who should call themselves submissive and who should call themselves a slave. Frankly I stopped giving a shit what people call themselves long ago.

The conversation went something like this:

Dominant guy: God… you should use the slave title. You are obviously looking for a service oriented position to where the Dominant in return gives you structure and stability. The only worry that you SHOULD have is serving your Master.

Me: Most Dommes seem to want a submissive in the bedroom but a vanilla guy outside of it.

Dominant guy: Stay away from the submissive title. It scares Masters like me away. Haha

Thankfully I’m not interested in a dominant guy so it really doesn’t matter if it scares away masters (lowercase on purpose) like him. It’s funny how that works though, dominant guys seem to be more interested in D/s than dominant women. I’ve been to a number of D/s oriented events, the last one I went to had maybe 50 gay couples, 50 Dominant male/submissive female couples, a few lesbian couples and two dominant women/male submissive couples.

Many dominant women have expressed to me their desires for a “submissive sometimes in the bedroom but my equal outside of it”. That’s the reason I shy away from calling myself a slave. It scares women off. Not only that, since I’ve pretty much given up on finding anything other than casual play, more and more women seem comfortable with someone who just submits to them in the bedroom. I’m all for that. Sure there’s a part of me that craves D/s, but the part of me that is dying to try out new things in the realm of BDSM overrides the part of me that needs D/s.

I’d rather be a submissive with a chance of getting fucked and toyed with than a slave who’s got no chance in hell.

I’m even cautious about mentioning my interests in D/s when someone asks me what I’m into since that’s enough to scare some off. I should maybe only qualify it by saying “look, someday, if I met someone who wanted to own me outside the bedroom, then great. But right now I’m only looking for casual play”.

Here’s another example from someone after she discovered D/s was something I enjoy:

“Yikes, are you someone that lives the lifestyle 24/7? Im not really down with that. I love sex with down right perversion, but Im not looking to own anyone…thats too heavy for me.”

It took me a while to convince her that I was perfectly happy just having sex with perversion but my interests in D/s may have cost me a one night stand with someone who enjoys things I’m dying to try.

So maybe I am a slave if that’s someone who enjoys D/s outside the bedroom. If that scares you away then I’m submissive. If that scares you away then I’m just kinky. If that scares you away then I’m just jerking off at home.

The Party, Part 2: Tenderized

· August 21, 2008 · Thoughts · , , , , , · 11 Comments

Continued from part one

I had just been tied up, scratched, beaten and drooled on. I was a very happy boy. I was standing around trying to keep a big silly grin from taking over my face.

Troy came up to me and said “Hey how’s it feel to finally play at a play party?”

I wanted to say “good” or “fine thank you” or something that sounded more cool but what came out was probably something that sounded like “awwwwwwweeeessssoooooooooommmmmmmmmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee”.

That was when Troy mentioned that the party would be coming to an end soon and then added, “Lets whip you first”.

This was to be the second time Troy had whipped me at a play party. After the first time she mentioned how everyone stopped what they were doing just to watch. I can’t say that I blame them. People probably stop to watch Troy put butter on her toast.

She had me take my shirt off and face her A-frame mounted on the wall. My hands gripped the wood as she started to make rhythmic beats on my back.

This is where things get really foggy for me. When I’m experiencing this kind of pain, everything else goes away. The only thing that exists is me and the other person but there’s no time involved. There will be moments when it feels like it is lasting forever and others when it feels like it just started a nanosecond ago.

I only remember emotions. Sometimes I get angry. Not at the person doing the whipping, but at the pain. Sometimes I get angry that it’s not always there when I need it and sometimes it’s because it just fucking hurts. Maybe anger isn’t the right word. It’s just a release of emotion when I feel that kind of pain. I was a little embarrassed when I realized everyone was looking at us. (Ok maybe more Troy than I, but hey…I was the sidekick to this little show).

For me, bdsm is more about the person than the act (not that it’s not about the act as well..but…well you know what I’m getting at). Troy almost becomes the whip– she’s not using an implement as much as she’s making the whip an extension of herself. The whip isn’t whipping me, she is.

It was raw. It was hot, it was…yummy.

She’d build up the pain so I was on my tiptoes, moaning and conflicted. My natural instinct to move away from the whip was muted by the desire for more and to get closer. My back would arch when she’d repeatedly hit the same spot again and again. Even though I had half of my clothes on I still felt naked and raw.

I have no clue how long it lasted.

Afterwards, I gave Troy a big hug (dropping down to kiss her feet would have been a but much but it was my initial thought) and a few people came up to me and shook my hand.

Shook my hand?

One guy said “that was some show…good job”. I had no clue what to say to that other than “thanks, it’s…what I do”.

I think there’s some chemistry that comes across between Troy and I. I trust her and she knows how far she wants to push me and she knows that I’ll go that far.

Later I walked to the subway, the cool air coming up under my shirt. Rope marks still on my arms and possibly even on my face.

I sat on the subway feeling stronger, more confident, powerful even.

And very turned on.

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