In Which I Discuss Teenage Readership (If Any)

When I was a teenager, I felt isolated from the adult world. I felt like there was a secret community I wasn’t a part of, that there was a joke I couldn’t hear yet because I didn’t know it. 

Some adults treated me that way. They’d scoff if I asked a naive question. They’d laugh with others if I showed a moment of weakness and fear,

Just recently, I had an email from a reader in which they felt the need to clarify they were 18+. And I get that, because if I had to rate my blog it’d probably be 18+ for its Erotica and sometimes my language. 

But, readers, at the same time I’m conflicted. I’m conflicted because I don’t want to be that adult that isolates a teenager from learning or asking questions. Because I was that teenager. And looking back, I’d like to think there could be an adult that was available for questions, should they write in to me. In which case I would never turn anyone away or betray their trust.

At the same time, teenagers are growing up way too fast. When I was a teenager, the internet was still in its dial up stages. Blogs and information wiki’s were unheard of. And now teenagers have access to all that, should they so desire. So maybe this blog post is all for naught. Maybe it’s all good. My blog – after all – is just a drop of water in an ocean of information. 

However, I will say this: if you’re under 18 or just on 18, if you need to run a question by me or need reassurance you’re not insane, you’re not alone. You can write to me and I can promise you I won’t judge. 

Somehow you’ve found yourself here, and through my blog there are some other beautiful blog authors that can help you. You’ve found a friendly network now.

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In Which I Discuss Teenage Readership (If Any)

When I was a teenager, I felt isolated from the adult world. I felt like there was a secret community I wasn’t a part of, that there was a joke I couldn’t hear yet because I didn’t know it. 

Some adults treated me that way. They’d scoff if I asked a naive question. They’d laugh with others if I showed a moment of weakness and fear,

Just recently, I had an email from a reader in which they felt the need to clarify they were 18+. And I get that, because if I had to rate my blog it’d probably be 18+ for its Erotica and sometimes my language. 

But, readers, at the same time I’m conflicted. I’m conflicted because I don’t want to be that adult that isolates a teenager from learning or asking questions. Because I was that teenager. And looking back, I’d like to think there could be an adult that was available for questions, should they write in to me. In which case I would never turn anyone away or betray their trust.

At the same time, teenagers are growing up way too fast. When I was a teenager, the internet was still in its dial up stages. Blogs and information wiki’s were unheard of. And now teenagers have access to all that, should they so desire. So maybe this blog post is all for naught. Maybe it’s all good. My blog – after all – is just a drop of water in an ocean of information. 

However, I will say this: if you’re under 18 or just on 18, if you need to run a question by me or need reassurance you’re not insane, you’re not alone. You can write to me and I can promise you I won’t judge. 

Somehow you’ve found yourself here, and through my blog there are some other beautiful blog authors that can help you. You’ve found a friendly network now.

Memoirs Of A Somewhat Mentor

When I started up this blog a few years ago, one of the first things I wanted to do was to provide any sort of help to anyone that felt confused or lost. To mentor.

To me, that meant being there as much as I could to answer any questions, offer concepts for exercises and just be a presence in this persons life as much as they wanted. To help where I once stumbled. 

I doubted myself at first. Who was I to offer help? Especially to someone who might be much older? And who would even take up that offer? This IS the Internet? 

Long story short, some people wrote in. And some people wanted a platform to talk in case they had any questions. And through email, sometimes rarely Kik, people listened to my advice. They challenged me – in a positive manner, questioning why I felt this way, why I became who I am today. Sometimes I listened to them, offering some ways in which they could challenge their own problems. Sometimes it was to get to the gym, sometimes it was a matter of insecurity. 

I’m humbled by every experience. It’s nice, sometimes, to hear that the lowly things I think and feel about myself aren’t necessarily true to someone else. So I’m honoured and touched in ways I could never cover in a blog post. 

Sometimes a person who has taken my advice writes in to say they’re going on a date. And it warms my heart that I played a bit part, even if it’s minuscule, in their lives.

Other times I feel like a broken record offering my help, but I just feel so strongly this need to help and nurture. It’s like I mentioned a few blog posts back about being an over protective father figure. It could be my kitten’s friend, or a mate of mine, or a mate’s sister – or my own sister. I feel this need to stand in front of this person and shield them, to use a dramatic metaphor. And this quality both embarrasses me – because I feel it’s unjust – and runs through my veins. 

So acting as a mentor – a friend, advisor, however you want to call it – warms my heart. Because I get to open the door to this person across the world I’d probably never meet if I didn’t challenge myself to write this blog. And I get to learn new things about myself, I get to challenge my perceptions. I get to help. 

Anyway. I won’t go on any longer. Have a lovely day!

Define Yourself

When I was younger – let’s say, 20-21, which feels like a lifetime ago – I often wondered where my place was when it came to the different dynamics of Dominance. 

The more I studied myself and the more I interacted with people, the more I could see I had a hand in different pies. I had the traits of a Daddy, a sadistic side that could fit in with a Master-type – and yet above all that, I had my own sensibilities. Vanilla sensibilities. 

In the past there have been people that have told me outright I was Dominant. Because I didn’t follow their own specifications. I’ve just recently been labeled a false Dominant because of my age. How could I possibly know what I want at my age, right? 

I don’t let this kind of thing get to me. I have been to the deepest darkest part of my mind and peeled behind the curtain. I’ve felt what it means to starve the darkness within me. I’ve wanted to do cruel and unspeakable things to the man that hit on my kitten at a venue a month ago or so now. And I’ve felt the freedom of being a primal, the rush of feeling like this is where I want to be – this spot right here.

We should not judge each other. Ever. We should practice kindness. Openness. We should remember that people grow and learn and become the same as we are in different ways. After all, we are in this together. 

I’ve spent my twenties putting names to my deepest feelings and desires. I’ve spent those years determining if things were a phase – or what thing works for me. 

To the individual – I’ll say this: Follow your heart. It will tell you what is right, what is wrong and what has always been true. No one can take that away from you, for they are fools if they try.

The Psychology behind these dynamics are multidimensional and unique to each person. Find what makes your heart soar. You will know when you feel elated, like you’re in the midst of an epiphany.

The Importance of Being Naked


As you all know, though my blog is BDSM-centric, I also like to talk about the strands of connections surrounding such a BDSM-centric life – and one of these strands is nudity. Or rather being nude.

In searching for a picture for a story, another muse, I came across this article – titled Why My Female Friends Send Me Nudes by one Radhika Sanghani.

Now, I can’t possibly comment on the strand – the tangent strand that is ladies sending each other nudes. I’m not wired that way. But, if you care for it, you’ll find the article goes on to talk about body image and how the nude selfie has become a sort of form of empowerment for women – younger, older – everywhere. 

‘I think for a woman to grow up in our society and get to a place of body acceptance is a success, and I want to share that with my friends’

Writes a friend of the author. And as someone navigates the sometimes choppy waves of the lifestyle, I see this issue of body acceptance pop up quite often. After all, media and society demand we are penthouse-fit love models. And some people are either naturally alternative (meaning goth, emo, pierced or tattooed – or all four!) and some people are just naturally curvy — and this creates a problem.

The article had me thinking, I must admit. I don’t hear a lot about women sharing nudes with each other, not personally, but I see it on WordPress – and there’s Fetlife as well.

Sometimes it’s someone saying ‘this is my first time’, which makes me smile because I know they’ve faced their fears and won. And that is a huge accomplishment in my books.

And then other times, I will get an email from someone expressing their discontent in their bodies and it makes me sad because of the hateful thoughts that come out from within their minds.

Usually I will give them a few exercises they can try to feel more at ease in their skin – things like spending time nude around the house doing vanilla-type things. Cleaning the house, watching a movie. Reading. Things you otherwise might do with clothes on.

I do this because the very act of disrobing is confronting enough. I mean, you can feel it. You’re aware of it. And in time, maybe you can rewrite your brain to accept it and to not be aware. 

Sometimes, the people I give this exercise to find it useful. Sometimes they practice it on their own accord. Sometimes it takes a little more effort from their mind.

The point is – there’s an importance in being nude. It’s our very existence, yeah? The core of all that we are – the avatar we wear through this life.

It’s what our parents tell us is forbidden. It’s what society tells us needs to be better. It’s tied to our way of thinking more than we probably realise – with every little thing – tv and books and  magazines – telling us what is in.

So. If you’re an adult, if you’re a teenager. If you’re living with relatives, mum and dad, roommates. Man. Woman. Boy. Girl. If you’re having a hard time accepting your body – remember: you have the power to change that.

1. If you’re living at home or by yourself, it doesn’t matter – you can find the time to be nude when people are out, when it’s night. Grab yourself a blank exercise book and a pen, journal in the nude. When you look back, you might see the negative way of thinking. You can change how you think!

2. Meditate in the nude. Lay back, close your eyes and feel the world around you. It may sound cheesy – but being use to how you feel can help that inbuilt panicky nature of being absolutely naked.

3. Lastly, take a selfie of your body. Easier said then done, right? Oh I know. When I joined Fet, I tried so many times to take something of myself. I got there in the end, I felt comfortable but I tell you: It’s a long road. 

But in saying that, it gets easier. It may even be arousing.
We owe it to ourselves to love ourselves in this lifetime. It’s all that we have. 

Don’t let the world around you define you. Define yourself. Redefine how you feel. There’s always time.

For anything else, you know where to reach me personally.

 

Memoirs Of A Dominant

Next week I will be turning thirty.
And looking back on the last ten years of my life is a strange and beautiful thing.

I’ve had the gift of life given to me but also of laughter and love and yeah, even Dominance. 

When I was twenty, I didn’t know what I do now. 

You could say I was Dominant, but I was coarse and unrefined. 

I could dominate – and I did – but it wasn’t with any sort of awareness of the bigger picture. I was playing chess one square at a time rather than the whole board.

Unknowingly, I had formed D/s relationships but neither me nor the lady I was with knew that. All I knew was that I had gone from being a loner to suddenly an attractive man – well, in the eyes of others anyway. At 20 I was insecure with myself in a way that I’m not now. 

My twenties were spent outside of anything BDSM related. There were flickers of it: The degradation that came out in my teens also came out in the bedroom. But I didn’t know terms, dynamics, things I wanted. I was coarse and unrefined and in a strictly vanilla relationship. 

It was around the time of my mid-twenties when something inside me awoke. Suddenly I wanted to learn. 

I was afraid to learn – there were times in the middle of the night where I woke from a dream to an ache I had ignored due to some of that catholic guilt I was raised with coming out – but I still had that desire. 

My long-term girlfriend at the time was not interested in the slightest. Not even after me trying to introduce to her some things I wanted to try. We simply were not compatible, though we hung onto each other long anyway.
Her dismissal led me to blogs and sites and that’s where I discovered Fetlife. That’s where I discovered apps like Whisper.

Suddenly I was finding that education I was so scared about. I deleted and signed up to Fetlife numerous times before I created the profile that exists today. 

Through whisper, I met a bubbly young lady. She was eighteen. I was 26 at the time. 
Blonde hair, blue eyes, piercings over her face and nipples. 
I did not have an affair with her, if that’s what you’re thinking. As I write this now, I can see that this was the origin of my Daddy side. 

You see, she came from a broken home. She was constantly in a state of distress. And over the weeks, we would talk and I would help in any way I can – because…well, because she felt like a little sister to me. 

The universe is a strange thing. It brings people together, it pulls people apart. And I guess, in that time, the universe gave me someone to talk to who was just as much seeking answers as I was. 

We would talk about our interests, mainly though, we would talk shit. And it was pleasant. 

I don’t know where she is now, but looking back, I think that was instrumental in forging my Daddy side. My caring side. My nurture side. 

EVENTUALLY my long term relationship with my girlfriend fell apart. We stopped being friends, we hung out in different rooms after work. We simply weren’t compatible. 

At the time, I wanted to fight. I felt that was what I wanted to do – fight for her. But when she showed no interest in fighting back, I decided to drop my compulsion to fix things or solve things and just…let her go. 

In the months after, I sought to explore myself. I moved in with my parents for a while, Iogged back into Fetlife. I took nude selfies despite my lingering guilt post-relationship. I wrote songs too. Really on-the-nose songs, with titles like ‘Penultimate’ and ‘Signposts’. It was my way to heal.

Through Fetlife – through people, really – I learnt what I was once too scared to learn. I spoke to women I befriended. Some I was drawn to on a really primal level. They helped point out what I was feeling. 

I had plenty of fascinating conversations about minds and life just staying in the intimate space of my childhood bedroom. In a lot of ways I was doing a loop, folding over back into my childhood town. Adulthood is weird.

But I learned I was a primal. I learned I was a Daddy. I had a six hour edging session – and I’m not exaggerating to prove something, I spent the majority of that day in bed pushing my limits. I was done crying, I was going to edge damnit. 

So you see, life is strange. Why we don’t accept our minds and our sexuality is stranger. I could lament and wonder why it wasn’t sooner that I had this life affirming epiphany, but you can’t go back. Only forward. 

If you have any questions regarding this post, always feel free to write me at my email. I’m more than happy to help you with your own journey.  

The Primal Aspect in Me

Sometimes I feel like I could tear out the jugular of any man that hits on my lady. On what’s mine.

Sometimes there is a flash behind my eyes – and I can see an alternate reality where I have taken a baseball bat to the creeper’s grim grinning face. 

I’m not a violent man. I don’t like confrontations. I know this is just the primal aspect in me. The animal part that protects his property. But I have the thought all the same. 

And maybe that’s just a product of the human mind. Cats knead their favourite bedding material because of their ancestors, maybe my need to defend and protect my lady from discomfort is because of my ancestors and their violent ways. 

OR it’s just 2-32am and I’m thinking way too much into things. And I’m just a dastardly violent and handsome man. 

I told my kitten my thoughts on this and she smiled shyly. It was the smile that says ‘I can’t find the words to express my thoughts on that, so I’ll smile’. She’s always been that way, shy at expressing her desire and interest in me. I’m the same. My mother was terribly shy and I get it from her.

In the end, there is a freedom to learning the behavioural aspects of the primal mindset. There’s beauty there, raw and unfiltered. 
I have been researching and pursuing it since I started out in this lifestyle and am still learning.