On My Religion, Sexuality and Love

If you’re a long time reader, chances are you’ve read me touch on my catholic upbringing as a child and into my teens and how that affected my sexuality. Talking or writing about it at length, though, is something I haven’t done here – and for no real reason, I just haven’t felt it was an interesting topic to anyone but me.

I want to address that. However I will ask you to bear with me, it might get messy.

My father and mother were devout Catholics and raised me as such. I did the whole nine yards – reconciliation, monthly confessions, communion, Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday’s, Stations of the cross, Sunday Mass – the whole shebang.

We were a conservative Catholic household and lived a conservative Catholic life. Even the sheer sight of me shirtless around the house would cause outcry. Playful or not, I cannot say, but I just wanted to raise this point.

When I was 12, I started to catch on about sex. My dad, when confronted with the notion, told me flatly ‘Yeah, we did!’. As an adult, my mum would tell me it was my dad’s job to address it as she did to my sisters. As an adult, my dad would tell me he never did enough for me. I wonder if he remembers that conversation.

As a 12 year old though, I was weird sexually. I’m taking masturbation in the weirdest places, I’m talking being excited that I’d have the house myself so I can be naked, I’m talking the primal masturbating in the mud in a frenzy – weird.

Thing was, I was making sense of myself. I found the pulse within myself that reacted against my catholic teachings to be naked, to be primal, to fight back against the feelings of shame – which I very well have now writing this, even though I understand how implausible those feelings are.

This reactionary behaviour paved the way for me to explore myself sexually as a teenager, which led to writing erotica and eventually to the wide world of BDSM and kink.

Looking back as I write this, sex – for me – is a battle between two minds. There’s the part of me who is relaxed and in control and vibrant and flourishing and then —- there’s the insecure part of me, questioning – constantly questioning, telling me that what I want, what I’ve always wanted, won’t be accepted. Somehow I know this to be a product of what I was taught, teaching me that to be naked, to want degradation, humiliation, is all wrong. Disgusting.

These days I have good control over the other part of my brain, though it does exist during my most intimate moments. However, during my twenties, that wasn’t the case.

I can distinctly remember feeling the rush of being in the moment, sexually and as a dominant, and then coming down from that high terrifies, not knowing what that meant, guilty because of my actions – my need to command, to dress, to be sadistic.

I thought I was in the wrong for years, with every kinky discovery bringing with it a wave of shame and a terrifying feeling that, after so long of living my life, I would have to reboot EVERYTHING I knew. This feeling, this scary realisation, led me to suppress it, at this point strengthened by the fact that I was in a relationship with a woman I loved but had zero interest in kink, D/s or BDSM.

Hell, I don’t even know now, years later, if my depression and anxiety is merely hereditary or a manifestation of my upbringing as a conservative Catholic. I can only guess and say it’s hereditary plus the upbringing PLUS my social experiences as a teenager. I didn’t have a lot of friends. I was shy. I was quiet. I still am.

What helped me, what still does – is trying to remember that my own development is important, that my happiness is important and that people like you, my dear readers, or kitten will accept me and my kinks and that it doesn’t mean I’m insane or sick or mentally ill.

These days, I’m not a practicing religious person – but I am spiritual. I live by a set of rules – to be kind to people, to love openly and accept everyone. I pray for my loves and my life and my animals but I consider my relationship between myself and God something entirely different to what’s prescribed in the bible. If that makes me agnostic or something, so be it, but I’d like to think that love is all you need and that if God exists, He – or she – would want me to be happy to my fullest extent. Outside of that, I try to be as kinky as I want 24/7. True to myself, in other words.

So was religion / being religious the catalyst for my feelings during sex? My anxiety? My development as a man? I’m not sure. I cannot say. I’m only a writer, half naked, musing to himself on a cool Monday morning.

12 Days of Kinkmas – Day #12 – The Dreamer

They were real to him. Every one of them.

When he slept they knelt by his ear, whispering their wicked delights, lamenting their haunted lives.

They crowded the room, waiting for their time, their chance to speak, to be heard.

When he woke, they appeared before him, always in his bedroom, in his living room, dressed from another life, waiting just for him. Waiting to continue.

When he wrote, they appeared in his dreams, guiding him as their lives fell from their lips in smooth velvet voices.

Their lives, their memories, their existence were as real, as living and breathing and flesh and blood and messy and alive as his existence was.

When he was done, they’d smile and leave the room, out of sight and out of mind, gone but immortalised, leaving room for the next of them to visit.

30 Days of Kink – Day #30: Free Time to Ponder

Write or create a list of whatever BDSM/kink related thing you want to.

This is it! The last day! And it lands after the beginning of my Christmas themed stories, sorry for that! The last ten days were hard to get out / keep track of!

Anyway, Day 30 is all about free time so what I wanted to do was have this time for anyone to ask any questions, be they about their lifestyle, my lifestyle or just to talk about any stories I’ve written recently. Please don’t be shy, the only silly question is the one not asked.

The other part of Day 30 I wanted to throw out there were things I’d like to try but haven’t yet, for whatever reason.

Now that my lady and I have a place to call our own, I’d like to fully implement pet play into the space. We’ve wanted to play with cages for a while now, we just haven’t had the space until now. So that’s something to work towards.

While I’m on pet play, I would like a honest-to/goodness run. Lungs working overtime, sweat coating my entire body, my heart racing in my ears, pumping that blood, my cock hard from a mix of feelings.

We live in the suburbs so there’s not a whole lot of option to run nude lest I want to end up on the police’s most wanted, heh!

Maybe one day I’ll write a Stepford-Housewives type of story where someone like me discovers this primal underbelly of his neighbourhood and finds a pack in the people around him. Maybe we’re all possessed by the spirit of the country, that could be gold. Maybe my main character will fight the alpha and it’ll end in murder, blood in his mouth, jugular torn out, cock hard. Feral. A mix of savagery and eroticism and just thriller. Annnnyway.

Then there’s the idea of collaborating in erotic art with someone. I like the idea of writing a story with someone of the opposite sex / dynamic, you know? I’ve worked on ideas with kitten in the past – we meld concepts and I do the writing – but I’m always looking for different voices too.

Just Write

So. I just got an email from a reader of my blog and it struck me as sad and it’s for these reasons that I want to write this piece.

If you’re going to write in to me, if you want to write in to me, there’s a couple things I, personally, want you to know and understand.

I’m not as busy as you think. I’m not running around like a headless chook, know that while I may work, I also definitely check my email daily and respond in full as soon as I can.

I don’t respond to emails to be polite to you, to what a reader described as ‘a self proclaimed fangirl’ – I respond because I want to. You must understand, I started this blog not just to share my fantasies and satisfy a part of me, I did it in case it could inspire someone as awkward as I was when I started off.

So I love hearing from people – young, old, male, female, Australian, American, Norwegian – the more the merrier. Language barriers be damned! I love conversing with people and I love talking BDSM and it’s lifestyles.

Whether you’re a fan or seeking answers or even if you a bone to pick with me about something I wrote. Grill me. I welcome all of it, criticism, friendly chatter, the like.

You’re not bothering me. At all. In all my years of blogging, in responding to the kind people that write in, I can honestly say not one email has bugged me, not one. Even if one person has a laundry list of questions, I’ll sit down and work it out with them until they’re more spent then I am. Seriously. So never ever think that YOU are the person that will be too much for me, because that just won’t be the case. Try me, I dare you!

Do you want to write but don’t know what to say? Do you feel stupid because I can talk so openly and you find it rough to? I’ve had years to process how I feel, to work to rise above my own shyness. I was the same as you in the beginning. We all start somewhere and blossom on our own time.

I will say this though – just write. Don’t worry about grammar or context or anything, just write. I honestly care not for long novel-length texts, I read every word and respond. I’ll even write a long novel-length email of my own.

Start at the beginning. Write how you feel. Find a place to start at, to get the ball rolling, and then just let it go – just write and let it loose. If it feels good, write it. If it doesn’t, write it anyway and send it.

Too many times have I read that someone wanted to write in sooner or deleted several iterations of the email they just sent – and it breaks my heart.

I know I can’t TELL people what to do. I know I can’t get people to talk as frankly as I do, but I’m writing this because I want you to know, anything you have to say, in any way, is perfectly A-OK by me and that you should not feel shame or delete what you write, because I mostly certainly want to read it. Don’t even press that delete button or I’ll slap a crop against your knuckles!

Be yourself. That’s all I ask of you. Everything else, please don’t worry. I’m not as scary as your mind makes me out to be!

TD&D

How Can You Tell If You’re Dominant Or Submissive?

Ladies and gents, I’m kinda stumped.

Early in the week, I was talking to a lady about how to implement kink into her marriage with her husband, when she ran a question by me – How do you know if you’re Dominant?

I answered that question best I could in the moment, running my own experiences with identifying the feeling by her, hoping it would connect somehow. But now, days later, I’m still thinking it over. I don’t really know HOW. It all seems so organic looking back.

I have also recently had someone ask me If they’re still fully submissive if they enjoy being bratty – there’s a lot of misunderstanding about the persona and how it applies to the individual.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of confused and alone people out there with a laundry list of questions and no one to ask. I’m more than happy to answer anything anyone has to ask, be you male, female, teenager, adult, new to the lifestyle or in the middle of a transformation or even someone with an inkling of kinkling.

Anyway, I thought I would try to the answer the question at length, hoping newcomers to BDSM might relate and it can help them in their own journey.

In the beginning, I had these feelings that I had understanding of. I didn’t know I could file my name calling under ‘Degradation and Humiliation’ nor did I understand why I was so interested in control – in exercising authority over my girlfriend. In these stages, there was no real sense of D/s and aftercare because I was immature and these feelings were immature and coarse and unrefined.

Before I continue, let me just write that there’s no absolute way for one person. Everyone is different and works differently.

I should say that my own development has come with a certain degree of blind luck. I met certain people at the right time in my life, people like me, through Fetlife or the semi-sketchy anonymous confessional app Whisper. I was a lucky bastard. I had the blessing of shaping who I was through encounters along my twenties.

Fetlife was a big player in my path, I would say. By signing up and looking around, I could see I wasn’t alone. I could even put a name to my kinks and thus have some semblance of understanding.

Google helped too, in a way, acting as a gateway to all sorts of media – books, images, blogs, people, Kink. Suddenly I knew of words like ‘Dominance’ and ‘submission’ and ‘dynamic’. Combine this with Fetlife and I had opportunities to feel the gravitational force to someone who was submissive. I’m talking, heart racing, cock hardening, breath quickening gravitational forces that helped me realise something was within me.

I know what you’re wondering. ‘Okay, but how does someone know if they’re dominant? Or even submissive?’

The best advice I can give is that it starts with an idea. Have a google of key concepts that come to mind when you think of BDSM – blindfolding, handcuffs, dirty talk. Start small. See if something strikes up your fancy.

If you want to reach deeper, have a look at concepts within a D/s relationship, such as setting tasks and rules and maintaining order. See if any of these concepts appeal to you on a base level. Try not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information – there can be a lot to learn but you can easily break it up into easily digestible parts.

Start small. Start light. A bit of spanking, a bit of issuing commands – talk to your partner about what they would like to try and see if it strikes a chord with you on any level.

The last advice I can give is to be open to yourself and to your partner. That goes for likes and dislikes and even if you’re uninterested. But always be open to trying at least. You never know what you’ll find on the road less travelled.

An Awkward Dominant on Hair Pulling

There’s something so delightfully wicked about hair pulling. I mean, besides the gut wrenching feeling rising from my balls to coil in the pit of my stomach, there’s this animalistic savagery to it that draws me in, there’s something so satisfying about grabbing a Fistful of her hair, turning her head, exposing her neck, sinking her teeth in.

There’s something about dragging her behind you while her strangled whimpers attempt an apology, No Siree she definitely won’t talk back because by the time I’ve finished claiming her she will have lost her voice in losing her mind.

I like the idea of the pain she could feel. I can almost sense it splintering off from her scalp, sending lightning fast jagged forks of hurt down to her breasts where it spirals around her nipples, transforming pain into maddening ecstasy.

And yet – wait. Pump the brakes.

All this occurred in my mind, for what felt like hours. In actuality, this scene, these sensations, pass in a heartbeat. Time is a fickle mistress.

Every time I get the urge to do this, to act it out, my mind relents. It gives way to this softer version of myself. I don’t know if this is an anxiety disorder matter or a confidence issue – I just feel….shy. I feel gentle. And every time we get to this point, and kitten is open to this as I am, I pause. I worry I will break her.

I know what you’re thinking – so talk to her, tell her how you feel. Ask for help in gaining confidence. I know. I know. We do – she knows my tells, she reads my face. We’re both good at communicating – it just doesn’t seem to help much. I still have pockets of time where I feel too loving.

This isn’t a new issue with men. Just yesterday I spoke to a woman whose husband struggled to be tougher with her, for the similar reasons. Here’s the thing too – I gave her advice that I could take myself.

Love can often get in the way, we often reach this lovely sense of comfort that can get in the way of the moment. The trick is to be confident within yourself to trust your partner and yourself with safety parameters.

So I guess I’ll begin again.

30 Days of Kink: Day #13 – In Which I Attempt to Explain Why Kink Appeals to Me

Explain as best you can what the appeal of kink/BDSM is to you? Why are you drawn to what you’re drawn to?

Oof! How much time have you got to read? Ask anyone you know that has written to me personally about how I can ramble about any given topic to anyone that will listen. Which, now that I write that down, doesn’t sound too inviting. Hmm.

What is the appeal of kink? I think I’ve always been drawn to psychology in some way. I’ve always wanted to study it at university but chickened out because I felt I wasn’t smart enough to get by in that regard.

The reason why I bring up psychology is because the idea of peeling back minds and getting to the heart of the matter, the psyche of someone, of knowing someone on a very intimate level is very stimulating to me in many ways.

And so the idea of bearing my soul, of exploring these fantasies I felt were too tough and gritty and off, with someone who felt the same way about their own minds, was a beautiful thought. It spoke to my meaning of life for me because it was very much about coming to terms with my own humanity.

For the longest time I’ve been trying to decipher how I feel and what that means – not only for myself but, like, at all. For this life. So to let go off all of that worry and become almost symbiotic with someone else – it was liberating. To explore the far reaches of your mind without judgement and explore our humanity and what it means to like these things and why, that is all soulful and gorgeous to me in ways I could never succinctly express.

As for why I’m drawn to all this beyond that reasoning? I’m not sure I know exactly why. I know I like the allure of dark things – I’m drawn to gothic eroticism for example, for how it can deftly juggle both aspects and create a satisfying pull between them.

I don’t know why I feel the need to want to practice 24/7 D/s – or why I feel compelled to such ideas as ownership and sadism. I just know that without them, I’m not really who I am anymore. I’m prone to mood swings and depersonalisation and depression because there’s no outlet or anything you know? There’s no way to circumvent.