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.  

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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. 

Sensory Overload

All it takes is for her to duck into the lounge room where I’m resting, completely nude, in all her mesmerising glory, to grab a head band for her bath —
And my mind is transported away.
She is chained to the bedroom, completely naked, her arms and legs spread apart.

There’s a bag over her head. Something new. Me being sadistic by toying sensory deprivation. She won’t be able to see. She won’t be able to quell any concern with a kiss. How long should I leave her with the bag on? Perhaps when the air runs low, when her mind is dazed, I could bring her to the brink of her orgasm — and as my mouth rests over her cunt, my tongue teasing her clit with small licks, I can remove the bag.

And as her senses rush back to her, her body seizes with all the power of an orgasm. 
The dizziness of the air rushing back to her melds with her pleasure. Maybe it’ll catapult her senses sky high. Maybe she might be elated. Soaring high into a space that’s beyond the norm but not beyond my reach.
I could bring her back with a gentle hug, soft words – and the reminder that I am in charge of her. And all that she is. 
And then I’m back in the lounge, a grin forms across my lips. I know just what to do. 

The Mind is Always Evolving


I don’t think there will ever be a time where I’ll stop growing and evolving. Where I will reach the limit of my growth and can say ‘well, I’m definitely into all of these things and kinks, there’s nothing else’.
Though that’s sometimes frustrating, especially when someone asks ‘well, what do you identify as?’ And I have to stumble on my words to say I’m a mix of things, it’s also a thing of beauty. Because there will always be something brand new to discover. 
For example, there’s a huge part of me that identifies with the 19th century gentleman and this unspoken undercurrent of Dominance and submission. Jane Eyre, apart from being a terrific read in general, was deeply erotic for me. 
And I identify with this gentleman because a big part that I’m drawn to is regulation. Polite wording like ‘Pardon me’ instead of ‘huh?’, standing up straight – etiquette like that – it speaks to me.
And there’s so many different nuances to something like that. Chin up, beck straight, hands to the side, hands behind your back, ask for permission to go out with your girlfriends, all these different things that branch off to different concepts and regulations and ways in which the relationship can evolve or adapt.
But then aside from this strict gentleman, or the 1950’s household hybrid of that gentleman, there are the other aspects of my personality that I’ve discovered along the way, the Daddy and the Master.
The Daddy aspect has always been with me, I think, since my early twenties. And as I got older and more at ease with myself, it has been more prominent and refined. I’m sure if I co wrote a blog with my lady, she could vouch for times it comes out – say, if she’s snacking before dinner and I tell her not to, she can hear it in my voice. Or if she’s ill but staying up late. Of if I want to read to her or be by her side when she colours. 
Recently, I’ve felt a different side bubble to the surface that bears similar traits to a Master. This crosses over with the 19th century gentleman, as the concept of setting rules and regulations in a M/s environment with many different concepts also at play intrigues me. But it’s also not quite the dynamic that fits my current relationship, as my kitten and I sit somewhere between the M/s and Daddy / LG concepts. 
It’s weird to explain because the mind shifts at any given moment and borrows traits from established roles. So it’s a mix.
And as such, I think I will always be finding out new things about my mind. Maybe I’ll change. Maybe this relationship will change. The How’s and the Why’s can be pondered all night, and this thought is lengthy enough. 
Bottom line is that I’m always growing and learning and finding new ways to live and play and explore and that’s beautiful. 
How about you, stranger? Are you a mix?

Do Not Be Afraid Of Who You Are

I’ve been in the lifestyle for a number of years – 12, technically. And yet, a number of those were me wandering in the dark scared of my own desire. Fearful of who I was. 
I’m much better now, with an open dialogue between the various aspects of my personality. But I still struggle. Whenever I am about to post, I am scared initially. Scared that one day, one thought will go too far. One story will be too rough. Or weird. 
I mean, I’ve written about sea creatures and vampires and sex cults and you guys are still here. But I still worry. 

And so today, I want to talk about fear.
For some, it starts at the beginning of your journey. You have a thought so effective that it scares you because of how you perceive it – that it’s weird or demented or troubling. 
Maybe it’s not just a thought, maybe it’s a mindset. A rape fantasy. A bondage fantasy. Maybe you’re a masochist and you’re trying to understand why you like sadistic concepts. 
Running from that thought won’t work. I tried. I ended back at square one face to face with the thought. And I’d feel guilty.
The trick, I think, is to begin to rewire your outlook. Day by day, steal a moment to yourself and think about what scares you. Remind yourself you’re not alone. That it’s okay to be the way you are.
For me, it was a long and slow process. I signed up to Fetlife. I challenged myself with nude photos. I dived into the local conversation. And day by day, I’d take a moment to read about it, in books, online. 
I think because I always kept the door open to learn, that eventually it became second nature to me. I felt okay being this weird mix of Daddy / Master / Primal.
Even though that’s my story and everyone is different, I feel like the keeping the door open notion is useful. Don’t run from it, keep one foot in the door and one foot in your comfort zone until you are ready to take a wander through entirely.
What we feel, who we are, is natural. It’s what makes us beautiful. Whether you’re interested in bestiality, like an old friend of mine once was, or whether you’re laying in bed married but out of sorts with your spouse. 
The first step is admitting these thoughts are okay. Are your own. The next step is up to you. You might fall or stumble but you’re stronger then you realise. You’ll be okay.
If you need help taking that initial step, if you want to run by a desire just to hear someone else let you know it’s perfectly fine, if you are confused, whatever the reason, you’re not alone. My email – my door – is always open.
Don’t be afraid to step through. 

Pick my last 30 Days of Kink topic!

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Tomorrow marks thirty days that I have been doing the 30 days of kink challenge. Has it really been thirty days? Jeez. Well, I hope you have enjoyed living in my brain for thirty days. I know I’ve enjoyed writing them out. They’ve been neat little writing exercises and in some cases have worked to make me view things in a different light.
I may have missed day due to personal / work reasons but I’m sure you’ll forgive me.

I want to add that I hesitated doing this, on the off chance I was kidding myself and no one would join but I decided to smack that thought away in a home run and bite the bullet.

Day #30’s idea is Whatever BDSM/kink related thing you want to write about.
Let’s make that Whatever BDSM/kink related thing you want ME to write about.
I want whoever reads this to ask me a question or pick a topic of their choice that they want my take on.
Don’t be afraid, don’t be shy. I am open to answering mostly anything and definitely hard to offend. So try me.
I will pick the answer that intrigues me the most. Or maybe I’ll do a handful more as a surprise. Or – and there’s a very good chance this is true – on the off chance, no one has any thing they can think of, I am sure I’ll rant away. I just thought this could be fun.

Alright, I am going to go because I am a wee bit hyper now. I look forward to reading any possible responses.

Until then, behave.

30 Days of Kink – Day #27: Do your Non-Kink Activities Find Their Way Into Your Life?

Do your non-kink interests ever find their way into your kinky activities? If so, how?

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I would say that writing comes into my kinky activities a lot. Writing is a passion of mine in my life and I love to write – be they stories, reviews of films and games and books or otherwise.

Sometimes, I’ll have my kitten write out her fantasies. I do this because I think it’s a wonderful mental activity. When you’re alone with your words, you’re alone with the scenario and the sensations and it can be powerful.

Other times, I’ll have her write about – with a set number of words – a specific topic in BDSM.

My fondness for Disney Animation finds its way into my kinky life, as you may have noticed from my erotica. I take a number of fantasies from my mind and act  out these twisted thoughts with my beloved.

Does dressing up my beloved count? A non-kink interest is seeing her in all her wonderful dresses. Some of which, I tell her to dress up in for me and model behind closed doors. After which I take her for myself.