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.

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.

TMI LATE NIGHT TUESDAY! #1

What is sexy time to you?

Oh gosh. You know, I joke a lot using these words. I’ll often say to my kitten when I’m being playful or silly – something along the lines of ‘so, uh…how about after you get out of those clothes, we, uh, go have some sexy time, hm?’

So I guess it’s a silly – slightly humorous way of inciting a sexual encounter, and allllll that that might entail!

Who’s sexier – women or men?

Women, definitely. There’s a gentleness to their features that I adore. It’s in the way they express themselves – a hug or their voice or their presence. Plus, there’s something about a sharp witted, fierce and intelligent woman that I love.

How did you learn to masturbate, and how old were you when you first succeeded?

Oh gosh. How did I learn? I have no idea. Knowing me and knowing that I like to grind my cock against the bed sleepily or not as an adult, I probably did that as a pre-teen by accident and it became a thing.

Do you like taking naked photos of yourself?

I have my good and bad days. I’m certainly not the most photogenic dude but I do it sometimes to challenge that perception.

I happen to enjoy being naked so there’s an exhibitionist part of me, I just struggle sometimes with my own esteem.

What is your biggest sexual fear?

My biggest sexual fear? To falter in the moment when I am to lead. It has happened in the past. My lady had surprised me with my favourite lingerie of hers only for me to be so surprised I’ve been momentarily frozen. It’s a weird glitch in the mind that happens.

Like I’m indecisive a lot but this was different. It’s like – in this moment I doubted myself when faced with this goddess before me.

Bonus: To you, what does the ideal penis look like? (feel free to include artwork or photos).

Huh. Well, I mean. Let me look. *runs to google*

That’s the best I can think of? I mean, I’m no expert. I wouldn’t think size is too important to me. As a man, the bust size of a woman isn’t important, it’s more how wicked her mind can be. But I’m not good with the finding-dick-pictures-on-the-net

Israel: An Erotic Short

In the end I had to have her.

I could feel the frenzied energy pulsating between us. It manifested as her lips brushed mine, eager to meet but breathless wanting more.

Beneath me, the Israeli Woman squirmed, her piercing brown eyes half covered by her messy raven hair that had fallen forward.

Her lips were ruby red. Puffy. Wanting. Waiting for that kiss.

Her small breasts lifted upright, caught in a breath as she gulped for air.

Her darkened nipples, little nubs, hardened.

I could sense her wanting this just as much as I did, our bodies settling into our own rhythm, the music being our panting, her low moans. A symphony.

Nothing was more important than her. I was addicted to her breathless whispers, a Slave to her very existence.

I didn’t just slip into her, our bodies merged and became one. I understood her, as she understood me.

So when I rested within her, my cock filling her as much I could at full length, I knew then.

I knew I loved her and would do anything to protect her.

As she squirmed beneath me, writhing in seething agony at what probably was the sensation of my cock within her, an itch she couldn’t reach, she muttered something in her native language.

It came out soft and low, beauty deep to my foreign ear.

As I buried my head and breathed in the earthy scent of her dark hair, this I promised her: I would be with her. No matter what.

I must’ve been grinding my cock in my sleep again…


I remember being half awake and gliding the full length of my shaft against the sheets, drawing out the sensation of the grind.In my dreams, a recurring thought came back to me: Who wants to lick my shaven cock? Or nibble on my balls?

I remember being in a dream – in a deserted cabin in the middle of the Amazon. I needed to come so desperately that every part of my body ached. I could even feel that building within me – the orgasm.

 And as I write this I can feel it now. Lingering. Throbbing. Screaming for a touch, for a mouth to run its wet tongue along the length of it.

God help me. I’ve lost my mind. 

How are your dreams?

Being Nude Anywhere Is Thrilling

..And I don’t really know why.

Maybe it’s linked to the idea that my parents were repressed. Or I was taught it’s a big no no so I lived in a repressed state for my life. But anytime I undress here in my own place as an adult, I feel thrilled.

I just stripped off to go crawl into bed. I’m tired, I’ll have a nap. But the sheets on my skin, the gentle breeze on my cock. It’s electrifying. 

And is there any greater Joy? Probably. Maybe. But seriously, I don’t know why it is that I feel super charged. Maybe I’m just a nudist, maybe I just like nudity.

But it’s more than that, because I sleep nude, I write nude. Its a part of me in ways maybe I can’t recognise. Or maybe I’m reading too into it.

I mean I do it all the time, it should be second nature. So why is it still thrilling? 

The only answer I can come up with is that I’m a highly sensitive, highly sexual person. So perhaps that’s why. Because I’m always switched on, hard and ready for anything.

What say you, ladies and gents? Anyone share my highly sensitive, highly sexual mindset? Anyone reading in bed or wherever right now naked and comfortable?

2017 Promises + Short Story!

Happy New Year! Happy Belated New Year! Happy 2017!

In your regular lives, I hope there’s warmth, magic and adventure!

In your BDSM lives, whether you’re a little slut, a ferocious Dom or a little puppy boy, I hope it’s challenging.

 

Not that it’s my place, I want to see anyone writing in to me overcoming any obstacles or rising to challenges. Dare yourself. Dare your partner. BARE yourself and have a beautiful year!

 

My own new years resolutions is to be more adventurous, improve myself and to be more active in writing here. I can’t wait to open up more mail from you guys!

Starting with this little story. I hope it’s a jolt to the system.

 

-TDD

 

If I had known he was into men, perhaps I would’ve had him down on his knees sooner than now.

As it is, the man’s married. His wife is down stairs, most likely talking about the house these two just bought with the other people at this new years party.

And had I known his kink aligned with my kink, that he was submissive to my Dominance, I would’ve acted sooner as well.

I discovered a piece of his mind when he stepped into the bathroom, which I didn’t bother to lock – everyone was downstairs.

I had just finished shaking the last droplets of urine off my cock before he knelt down and took it hungrily in his mouth.

His mouth was wet and cool on my skin and gave me three passionate kisses with the swirl of his tongue.

The bold fucker worked my cock until I started to spurt. The man couldn’t hold his load, he let it dribble out of his mouth like a newbie at it.

He dropped my cock out of his wet hot mouth and looked up at me.

“Am I doing good, Sir?”

His eyes were eager, his cock as well. It stood to attention, erect and wanting.

I instructed him to get naked – and he did. He undressed in silence and knelt before me, his pale ass was in the air as he leant forward to kiss the tip of my cock.

“Answer me this” I said, ignoring him and moving my cock so that he only kissed my thigh.

“Have you come to a fantasy of me?”

He reddened. “Yes, Sir”

“And did you fuck that ass of yours?”

He seemed to go redder still.

“Yes…I mean Yes, Sir”

I smiled at that. “Good”