It’s Okay To Sometimes Make a Mistake In This BDSM Lifestyle

Be you submissive or dominant or a lovely hybrid of both, if you’re new to the lifestyle – the great wide wonderful world of BDSM and kink and dynamics, chances are you’re bound to make a mistake. You’re bound to misinterpret or have a hiccup or stumble.

It could be forgetting to do a task, it could be a selfish reasoning to dominate, it could be an error in or out of the bedroom.

And you know what? That’s fine. That’s great. That’s okay, because that’s how we learn to improve — and there’s no shame in that. At least, you shouldn’t feel that way inclined.

So long as, if we are indeed in the wrong, we learn from the error and grow through the experience, that’s okay.

When I started off in the lifestyle, I didn’t even know it was a lifestyle. There was my first mistake. But even more so, I was thinking like a young mind. I was thinking I’m terms of only my dominance and not entirely of the needs and mindset of my girlfriend at the time.

Even when I entered into my first fully 24/7 relationship I made some hiccup mistakes – lapses in judgement that, after a discussion regarding it, I could understand the different perspective. And I learned from it.

Talking to others in the lifestyle really helped. It still does. I have an eager mind to talk sometimes when my anxiety doesn’t override my nature. Talking to others helped me understand, helped ease my mind into the mind of a submissive. I learned to become patient, to develop my awareness of the submissive self.

Having a family comprised of women certainly helped shape my understanding and nature I would say, but it was talking to – for me, submissive women – that helped me understand.

I understood my shortcomings, I understood a need to please, I listened and asked questions where I thought to.

So take it from a general fuck up – you can pick yourself back up and keep moving on, so long as you listen and understand and admit to your own misdirections – if any.

Remember: The only silly question is the one not asked. Talking to others and listening with an open mind and heart is key, as well as being open with yourself. Because you might very well change – and sometimes change can be good.

If you need to chat, doesn’t hesitate to reach me at —


His Slave: A Free-Form Writing Piece

She rises from her bed and the first thing she feels is the winter morning.

Her nipples harden at the winter’s kiss so cool that her raven hair, strewn across her chest like a Disney princess she ponders, can hide from the warmth.

Her feet hit the floor, becoming stuck in ice.

She gropes for her phone, rubs the sleep from her eyes, makes sure her breasts – large, uneven, lopsided she thinks – are not hidden from the camera.

She practices her smile, raises the camera high to her left – her best angle – and snaps.

She views it. Frowns. She doesn’t like it, she doesn’t like her tired eyes or the way her breasts sit, but she relents. Digresses. She brings up Master’s chat window. She finds the picture, a long line in a list of images, some requested, some part of her daily ritual, some she took feeling good one evening.

She hits send.

With that, she climbs out of bed and into the arctic.

In the shower she masturbates. She thinks on many things – Master’s cock from a world away, a world she’ll see again on the weekend. She thinks of him asking to watch her and though she feels she wants to join him, she relents. Digresses. He always taught her of equality but she wants to see him smile.

When she comes, it’s at the point in her fantasy where their eyes interlock just as she climaxes. She can feel him now, those dark eyes. She can’t quite unlock them. They do not betray what he’s thinking.

On the chair in the corner of her bedroom sits her outfit of the day. She laments her work uniform, that there is not much choice, but Master wants them anyway. He likes it that way. He still picks her bra and panties every day. Today’s being black and elegant but with a fun g-string she bought – black and white strip pattern with a black lacy edges and a cute bow at the front.

When she sees this, she giggles to herself, and a warmth, despite the frozen world around her, rushes through her, fills her with delight.

She gets dressed, but takes her time, feeling the fabric against her skin, knowing Master picked it out makes it all the more exciting.

In her underwear she glances in the mirror. She doesn’t like what she sees, it is true. Where Master sees curves and beauty, she sees fat. The thought darkens her mind. She can feel herself and frown and tries to lift her face away from it.

They’re working on it, she thinks, straightening out the twist in her panties.

Deep down she knows she doesn’t need this, or him, to feel positive. But, she says out loud, the support means everything.

Fully dressed, she pulls her phone off charge. She opens a note saves on her phone – her mantra. She recites her inner strength, her ownership, her goals, her heart. Her reminders. This makes her smile, the warmth pulsating within her.

Before she can put the phone in her pocket, her phone buzzes. Her Master sends his good mornings, reminds her of her importance, not to him but the world around her.

They would talk from the moment she left home, during the train ride into the city, and on the approach to her work.

Him, her Master, and her, His Slave.

Writing In The Dark: A Reflection

The other day I thought about my own writing on this blog. I wanted to critique my own writing, not in some self-indulgent wank way, but in the hopes that maybe through my rambling, it might answer a question someone wanted to ask.

The main question I’ve gotten is – why so dark?

And I don’t know if I can properly answer that, but I’m willing to try:

It’s dark because I find that fascinating.

Anything that comes out on this blog is some strange fantasy of mine, something that comes in the dead of the night, something that comes to a sleepy mind, something that comes in a lucid dream – or day dream.

This blog here is like a box. Or maybe a prison. Some kind of container I expunge these darker impulses into – and that’s why, for the most part, they are coarse and unrefined.

I know my writing can be lacking or grammatical incorrect or what have you, because you’re looking at the very first draft, scribbled hastily as I’m possessed by images, sounds, settings, all merging together to create something divine and deep an dark.

I do this primarily to share with the world. As a writer of course my goal is to thrill and arouse, but in another way the goal here is to put out these twisted thoughts to show others that you’re not insane, there’s someone else as strange or gothic as you! Whether any of this stories achieve their goal, I don’t know – maybe they don’t and maybe they do.

In any case, I need to write for myself. Because I too hope I’m not alone in the world, in my fantasies.

But to circle back to an earlier reason – I write these things because I’m fascinated by the mindsets involved. The battle of wits, the tangles of bodies, the power play. The struggle.

It’s a canvas to explore my animalistic nature, my sadism, the thoughts that scare me. Sometimes it’s about empowerment given to the lady in the story – the one that assumes control, from below. Sometimes it’s nothing more but a transcript of a dream. An intimate look into my mind.

I like to challenge perceptions, push limits of characters or reader. I don’t know if I’ve done that but I like to try. I like to push my own limits, see how deep I can go.

I rarely have an ending in mind when I write. A story lives it’s own life. Characters come alive and I’m merely transcribing how they react through whatever means I can.

I do this in a fever dream, tasting and seeing and experiencing as I go. I’m the first reader to see it, in a way. An observer.

Hopefully this has shed some light on the writing process for those that have wondered or are interested. If you have any questions, let me know!

Please Don’t Be Afraid To Write To Me Personally

If you need advice about something, information on the lifestyle, if you’re lonely and you just need to unwind and vent, please don’t hesitate to write to me personally.

It always makes me sad when I get an email that starts with ‘I’ve been meaning to write you but I was too shy’ or ‘I couldn’t find the words’ or ‘I felt silly’. It leaves an ache in my heart, truly.

I don’t judge naivety. I have no interest in shaming people for inexperience or different tastes or how they identify. Because that’s how I was raised and that’s how I want the world to be, and how I want people to be to ME.

More than this, I want people to feel welcomed and safe, regardless of how they identify, regardless of age or of gender.

It doesn’t bother me if you’re married or poly, or if you feel that way inclined to animals (I had a friend once who did, and she helped identify a part of me).

The point is, whatever the case, whatever your situation, I’m here to chat, even if you want to say hello and pass on a compliment or criticism. Discussion is welcome.

Lastly, I want to say this: Growing up, identifying with my sexual interests, I didn’t have any guy friends to communicate with. About what I was feeling, about sexual identities, about anything.

My dad was the best father he knew how to be, and did everything he thought he could do, but I never felt I could talk to him about any of this, as he was a devout religious man and my desires were of the stark primal desires.

If there are any men out there, wondering, lonely, needing to chat – there’s no shame in doing so. To me. To a counsellor. None whatsoever.

There will always be those who judge, but those people are close minded and need to practice a little tact, a little politeness. Don’t let them get to you.

And, I’m always here.

Language: A Short Erotic Piece

I couldn’t stop even when I knew it was wrong in all of the ways.

I had to have you.

I needed to have you.

I wanted to hear you curse in your native tongue. I wanted to hear the Spanish slip your lips as it rolled ever so smoothly off hold tongue.

I wanted to bury my head in your chest, inhale your scent. Not your perfume, your scent – your skin, your sweat, your hair.

I wanted to lose myself in the dark tangles of your hair, riding the edges of ecstasy, my hands gripping a fistful as I thumb the straps of your dress.

I had to see them. I just had to.

I had to tear your dress down, couldn’t do it gently, couldn’t save myself, couldn’t help myself from saving your strapless black bra for my eyes to feast on.

I gorged quickly, spilling your breasts free from their places, running my mouth across your darkened areola’s.

I had to flick my tongue along your nipples, dark, puffy, soft.

There was no taste…and yet…something faint. Light. Different. I wanted more. I needed more.

You don’t understand how long I’ve wondered. What you looked like beneath. How your breasts sat freely, how your body reacted to touch. How you smelt.

I had to hear you curse, I had to hear the rolls of the tongue, the beauty of the language in the throes of something wild, no matter the cause.

I had to know whether you were shaven, trimmed or natural. I like natural. The darkness, the untamed beauty. What meaning is this, what of nature. Heritage. Personality. Atmosphere. Of the world. I don’t know.

It wasn’t enough to see it, your coarse, unrefined mound. I had to taste, had to rub my tongue along the shape of your lips. I had to hear you – disgruntled, ferocious.

I needed you.


This one was born from an attraction to all things Spanish – the language, the women, the culture, the history – but also from the darkest corners of my mind. Specifically a wandering mind at 3am.

It went on longer in my head, becoming darker, weirder. But I decided to end it in the middle and leave some things to the imagination. I hope you enjoy!

Misconceptions On a D/s lifestyle

Something that I’ve been meaning to sit down and write about for a while is addressing newcomers on their one-foot-in-the-world of D/s dynamics and BDSM.

The common fear being addressed, that I’ve ever stumbled across in Wikis or have heard directly are misconceptions relating to BDSM or a specific dynamic.


I know there’s a misconception that all people involved in BDSM are strange gothic creatures, the type you may meet in a Marilyn Manson music video.

But it’s wrong.

The people you will find interested in BDSM or a D/s relationship are normal, small-country town people. They could be your doctor or the clerk at the mall or the guy who rips your ticket at the cinema.

Yes, there are people who take it to extreme measures. But extreme measures can be found anywhere. Look at Comic-Con or animal lovers or healthy folk. The point is, extremes generally depend on the individual.

It’s Not Just About Sex

Sure, a large component about it IS sex, but that’s not all a D/s relationship is comprised of.

If we are open minded about the process, we can find great beauty in the mix, as well as understanding, patience and grace.

A D/s relationship can involve the most beautiful quiet moments, a magnificent level of trust, a connection so rich or even profound that it enriches anything else the couple interacts with.

I once spoke to a woman who was interested in the Daddy / little girl lifestyle but didn’t want to be associated with what she believed was the true nature of the relationship – the incestuous sex play.

The problem here was the misconception was shaping her view on it and D/s relationships in general because she must’ve seen a meme or read an article or heard something that misunderstood reasoning.

I had to say. No. A Daddy / little girl relationship, while yes – can include any incestuous roleplay – is primarily about the interaction between a Dominant and a submissive on a very gut level, almost primal, instinct.

It’s How You Feel

While it’s fantastic to read up on differing dynamics and what they mean – this can help iron out some knots in your mind – don’t view it as a strict definition of who you are as a person, because that can change.

Find what suits you best. Adapt. Customise. Change. Make it personal to fit yourself or who you are, because you need to be happy with that person.

And should there come a day where change is terrifying, remember – it’s okay to navigate new areas. One day I woke up and realised that, after all, there was a side to my personality I likened to that of a Master. I’m not strictly a Master, I’m a weird sort of a hybrid. And yeah, I copped flak from other Dominants due to their own perceived definitions, but you’ve got to make yourself happy. You’ve got to lead your own path.

Don’t Be Scared

You’re not going to lose yourself in the process of learning new things about yourself. Just try and think of it as going back to school, learning new units. I guarantee you that you’ll still be your old self, just maybe new and improved.

It may be scary to start a new main quest. It may feel like you’ll need to readjust your whole way of thinking. You may feel shame and fear and guilt, but in time that will pass..


There’s something so beautiful, so special and and so satisfying about earning that right to stand above her.

To witness her bare self, the girl with the huge heart.

To peel back her layers, to caress the edges, to leave my mark….the sting on her bare ass, a reminder.

It’s not just sex, not just moans, not just marks and smacks and toys. It’s something else entirely. Ethereal. Ascension. Transcendence. Awakening.