Thoughts

We’re Off To An Undisclosed Location

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In a few short hours I’m taking Sade on a top secret vacation.

She knows we’re going somewhere warm, somewhere that requires a passport, english isn’t the official language and a few other details but that’s it.

When I was planning this trip I was so nervous and obsessed that I would spend hours looking at different places. Checking best times of the year to go, how the food was, what the amenities were, if it was an all adult place or not…the list goes on and on.

I’d turn to her and say “so if you had the choice between…” then give her a few different options.

I probably asked variations of that question about 50 times.

Finally she just told me to pick a place. That she was sure she’d enjoy it as long as we were together.

And so, I did.

For the past week I’ve been checking the forecast. Scattered showers every day (and no, it’s not the rainy season). UGH

We’re bringing sex toys, rope, my laptop (I plan on catching up on my writing for this blog, editing for the podcast and reading) and just a few articles of clothing.

So I’m looking forward to minimal rain, that the photos the resort took aren’t wayyyyy better than the resort itself, yoga on the beach every morning, lots of sex, all you can drink and eat and some quality time with my owner.

Hmmm wonder if the others on the beach and at the resort would think oddly of us if I wore my collar the whole time.

From Across The Room

It’s the first big party in our new home.

We’re surrounded by our close friends.

She and I are both very happy with the turn out.

While waking back to the kitchen to fetch one of our guests a drink I spot her from across the room.

Normally when we are home she catches me admiring her, smiles and says “what?”.

But now she’s distracted.

She laughs at something one of our guests tells her and I laugh too even though I haven’t a clue what they’re talking about.

I sigh at what a lucky lucky man I am.

Someone approaches me and tells me we have a wonderful home.

“Yes”, I smile. “Home”.

The 1st Anniversary Masocast Is Up

A friend asked to interview me to mark the first anniversary episode of the Masocast.

I said yes.

We weren’t able to include every question you asked in this episode, thanks to all of those who did, I’ll put more of this conversation up in the future.

It means a lot to me that so many continue to download, comment, email, call and contribute to the podcast.

A special thanks to my friend who convinced me to be interviewed for it and took the time to sit down in front of a mic with me.

Subscribe here:

Masocast - Masocast - Masocast

Or listen directly on the Masocast website.

Overcoming My Fear Of Needle-Play

My first exposure to needles I was drunk and at a party so there was a lot going on to distract me.

The second time I was sober, very very nervous, partially hyperventilating, whimpering and it took a lot of self control to keep from begging her to stop.

The third time went much better.

See here’s the thing. Sade really likes needle play. Ok, she loves needle play. I’ve seen photos of some of her needle play in the past and it scares the crap out of me.

It’s not like I’m afraid of needles when I go to the doctor. It’s just that the the idea of needles being fun is very foreign to me. Whenever I see some of the more hardcore images of needle play, I see what looks like permanent damage.   

My fear may come from an experience I had with cutting once. The dominant made a small pattern on my back (with my consent of course) with a razor blade. I was told the marks would be there for a month or two or three then it would go away. This is true for most people. Well it’s been three years now and I still have a scar from that cutting. So perhaps I associate any kind of breaking of the skin to be something permanent.

Or maybe I’m just a chicken-shit when it comes to needles.

It makes me self-consious as well since I know this is something she really really enjoys and it’s not something I’m good at. I want to be a good needle-bottom (if that’s even a phrase), I want to love it as much as she does. I want it to turn me on as much as it turns her on but I have the opposite reaction. I wan’t to please her in this way but it’s so hard for me to get over that fear.

Well the other night, Sade and a friend were at our place and they were talking about needle play and the next thing I knew I was half-naked, bound on our coffee table with needles penetrating my skin.

But this time it was different. Sade knew how hard it was for me. She would lovingly stroke my skin, gently kiss my lips, giving me words of encouragement telling me what a good job I was doing and even though I was still worried and nervous, she made me much more comfortable.

Even though she was making it much easier, I was still in a headspace that I’d rather not have been in.

She asked me how I was doing and I replied “Fine, but I’ll be better when this is over”.

The second it came out of my mouth I was kicking myself for saying it. Here I was, bound on a table with my amazing owner and her friend playing with me and I was commenting on how I couldn’t wait for it to be over. What an assface thing to say.

I bit my lip and tried to contain myself every time the needle went in.

She kissed me and I would forget all about the needles for a few moments.

She’d stroke my skin and I’d relax a bit more.

Eventually I was able to focus more on the dynamic of what was happening more than what was actually happening. I could feel myself submitting to the needles or more submitting to her through the needles. I was doing it to please her.

Eventually it was over and her friend thanked me and I asked Sade how I had done.

“You did very well, the only way it could have been better is if your cock was hard from the experience”.

Someday, I’m betting it will be.

Here are a few photos of what when down….or…in.

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30 Minutes In The Tub

I was just ordered to take a 30 minute hot bath.

It’s for my own good, I know that. I hurt my back a few days ago and I have been limping along for a while now.

And so, here I am, writing this post from the tub as I try to soak the pain away.

These past few weeks have been hectic. My 2nd job took up a considerable portion of my free time. Free time that could have been spent doting on her. She understands of course, the same way she understands that I may want to lift the corners of the bed to tuck the sheet in but she does it before I can do it myself.   Because she knows I’m stupid enough to strain myself just to make the bed for her.

Between the two jobs and the podcast I’m hoping you the reader understands as well why I haven’t been updating this blog as much.

“Are you ok?”

“Are you going to start posting more about being owned?”

“So you get collared and don’t have time to write now?”

Just a few of the many questions I get on Twitter, in emails and in person.

It’s not that I don’t have things to share, I just don’t have the time.

Now though, I’ve got 30 minutes in the tub.

I’ve been thinking of ways to make more time.

My first thought is to make the podcast a monthly podcast. Or make it a form of kinky public radio and let peope submit their own stories and that would free up some time.

A friend asked what I’d do in a perfect world. I imagined she and I traveling the world interviewing people about what gets them off.

That dream is what keeps me buying lottery tickets.

Then there’s the other part of the dream where I get more than 6 hours of sleep every night.

I just know I’m not a fan of working from 9-5 every day then 6pm to 1am and barely have enough energy to serve her the way I would like.

Still, she is happy, I am happy, and we have enough time for the important things.

And when I fail to make time for myself, she orders me to strip and soak in the tub.