My Biggest Fear


Not really failure, but the fear of failure.

Fear of failure is what’s kept me from doing many things in life.

Multiple failures in small tests kept me from taking the big tests, kept me from going on stage or from taking big risks. I’m brave in many ways but in other ways I’m a big coward.

Up until a few years ago, the only thing I wasn’t afraid of was love. I’ve risked everything a number of times for love.

I went all in a few times. Every time I did I’d lose in the end but always had something left over, except for that last time. That last bet left me with nothing. I’m still paying for it in many ways.

Failure still freezes me in my tracks. Asking someone out still does it. Every now and then I’ll be brave enough to approach a woman but the fear is still there. Even sending an email scares the crap out of me. The fear makes the the part of me a woman would actually be attracted to hide under a rock. Her answer usually justifies my fear.

A friend once expressed interest in playing with me. I told her I was eager to and to let me know when. I haven’t heard anything on the subject since and don’t want to be pushy, so I wait. If I did push it may ruin the opportunity. I try to hint now and then but that’s the extent of it.

It’s why I don’t make the first move. Rejection and failure bring back so many bad memories that I try to forget. Thankfully there are women out there that do make the first move.

Recently I was presented with a service opportunity. I’ve been looking forward to it for along time but a task has been added that I’m probably going to fail despite weeks of preparation. Part of me wants to cancel. To save myself from disappointing someone would canceling be more of a disappointment? If I did fail and my failure resulted in my tears, would that experience be worse than no experience at all?

When I was younger I was bucked off by one of the horses on our farm. I was knocked unconscious and kicked. I never did get back on the horse. I lived on a farm with horses and I never rode one again. It’s not that I’m afraid of horses, I just never trusted one again.

In that respect, horses are like women. It just took getting bucked off more than once to lose my trust in women.

Would I like a relationship one day? I like the idea of it. Maybe someday. It’s a gamble and I just don’t have anything to bet with right now.

I need to learn to ignore my fear or conquer it. Living with it isn’t doing the trick.

Maybe I’m not a masochist after all.

The Party, Part 2: Tenderized

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.

The Party Part 1: Bent In Half And Shredded.

I don’t write about my play experiences often for a number of reasons. One of the biggest reasons is that I know I’d never do it justice. It’s been suggested that I write about some of my rare but wonderful experiences just to let you knot that it’s not a total wasteland of play for me. With that in mind, I’ve decided to write more often about it. I always make sure I send a draft to the person in question just so there aren’t any surprises and so they can correct anything that may have been all in my mind.

So, with that in mind:

I was at a private play party with a few friends a while back. Private parties are by far the best for me compared to going to clubs. It’s the difference between flying first class and taking the bus.

As the evening rolled along and people were pairing off to play with one another, I found myself having casual conversations and trying to build up the courage to ask someone to play.

It’s always such an awkward thing. How do you phrase it without sounding especially weird? So very very awkward. Every time I’ve asked if someone wanted to play it’s always code:

“Is there anything I can do for you”? (Translation = “Really, I mean it, please…anything?”)

I was just about to ask someone when she beat me to the punch.

“Want to do some rope bondage?”

I tried to act casual about it and not seem over-excited but I think I said “Yes please” before she even said “…do some bondage”.

I asked if there was anything I should take off and she asked that I take my jeans off. Just hearing those words out of her mouth made bite my lip and tried to keep myself from getting visibly hard through my boxer briefs.

She directed me to sit cross-legged and sitting with her legs over mine facing me and crafted a rope harness around my head with rope covering my eyes. While she was tying my ankles together I hoped she couldn’t tell how turned on I was. That hope was lost when she put her foot on my crotch and pushed me further away from the wall.

“Hell, NOW she knows”, I thought.

It’s possible she saw how serious I looked, I was trying to stay cool and not get too swept away. Her finger gently rubbed underneath my bottom lip, I started to grin and asked what she was doing.

“Just finding your smile”, she said.

Sigh. I could relax now.

She tied my wrist together then the rope harness pulled down to my ankles. I was folded in half with my head to my ankles. She stood up, put her hand on my head (a gesture that far too easily puts me into emotional submission) and I thought how good it felt to be tied by her.

I was glad she asked me to play and I assumed she would be untying me seconds later.

But she wasn’t finished yet.

She pulled my shirt up over my shoulders exposing my back. I felt her hands run over my skin then felt a sharp punch to my back followed by a few slaps. With every punch I fought the urge to thank her for the attention.

Her fingernails were next, carving into both of my shoulder blades back and forth, back and forth. Slapping, punching, clawing.

It’s all a blur in my head but I remember having tiny flashes of mini-thoughts go through my mind.

“Fuck this is heaven”
“Please don’t stop”
“I hope she knows I don’t mind being made to bleed”
“This is what winning the lottery feels like”

She slowed down by gently touching my back for a moment and then I felt a drop of her warm saliva run down my spine.

I think I whimpered.

She began to untie me and I was again trying to act calm and cool, I started to thank her when she put her fingers to her lips and gave me a “shhhhh”.

I almost whimpered again.

I was thrilled, giddy and trying not to smile from ear to ear. I knew I’d be smiling for days and I’d be walking to the subway with an extra spring in my step.

The evening had more in store for me however.

More pain and more smiles.

To be continued…

Ouch That Feels Good

For those of you who kept emailing me and asking who it was that inspired my thank you post.

The answer can be found here along with photo evidence.

I should write another thank you post to her.

Treated Like An Animal

I’ve had three people ask me what I’m into over the past week.

There’s never a good answer to this one since it all depends on who I’m with, what the energy is and what she’s into.

While I love bondage, I also adore letting the woman relax and enjoy herself while I do all the work of kissing and tasting every inch of her body.

What’s more important is what she is into. If I check out the profile of a woman on Fetlife and read her list of kinks, chances are I’m into most of them.

Then someone asked me what I’ve been fantasizing about lately. That’s a different question.

It depends on my mood of but lately I’ve thought a lot about one thing in particular. I’ve been thinking about being used.

Being tied up and objectified, tortured, teased, abused, fucked and everything else you can imagine.

To be treated like an animal and I don’t mean puppy or pony play.

I’ve been fantasizing about being tied or chained standing up, whipped, punched, clamped, gagged, bent over and fucked. Torn to shreds until I’m on my knees and then finally allowed to taste her. Maybe being teased the entire time until I’m allowed to fuck her or get fucked by her until she’s satisfied and we’re both drained.

I have so much pent up sexual and non-sexual energy, I just need a release. I need to be pushed..far and hard.

So yeah, that’s what I’ve been thinking about lately.