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!

Advertisements

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 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?

Playing With Fire: A Daddy Dom Ramble


I’ve had a few drafts of what I want to say. I can’t figure out how to be precise with my words here. So expect some free form stream of consciousness.
I watched this show where a teenage girl was hovering her hand over an open flame, admittedly been through a lot, not to mention being a teenager in the first place. And my mind jumped to so many different tangents with the image. Experimenting with pain, sexual

Identity. Guidance. 
It kicked off this whole train of thought that is current doing the round. Which led me to writing it down here. 
I’m a Daddy. This much is true, whether it’s sexual or instinctive. Or darker. 

And I’m of two minds – one half trying to comfort this teenage girl while the other half helping her to experiment. Because experimentation, under watch, can be rewarding. So maybe my hand on hers, feeling the slight burn. No going back. Showing her that there is this whole side of things that you can practice as a form of therapy, if controlled in a healthy environment. 
And I’m not too sure why. 

I often wrestle with my animalistic impulses. I’ll shy away from the absurd because a handful of people understand and the rest don’t. 
I think the reason why this show has sparked feeling with me is partly because I was that experimental teen, dealing with pain – unhealthily at first. So when I see a teenager, male or female, struggling, I become that surrogate Daddy. Whether they like it or not. Because I can’t help it. And because my heart is too deep, or so they tell me. 
When I was first fully exploring my Dominant side, I met a teenage girl through Whisper going through a really rough time. I was 26 at the time. And she was flirtatious and sent nudes randomly. And I understood why. Or partly understood. 

I didn’t act. I didn’t want to. She was certainly attractive. Legal, if you’re mind is going there. But I could feel she was trying to justify something, her worth, herself, anything. And so I talked to her, told her politely as I could that the nude photo wasn’t necessary. 
And I don’t know why or how I came to it, but I saw her as a little sister. And whenever she texted me to vent, I would listen. Whenever she called, I would listen. 
And eventually, she stopped calling. We stopped talking, I didn’t bother her. I get it into my head I’m annoying – and a part of me felt guilty about the fact that I was even talking to her, because age. 
And age is weird. When my kitten was 16-17, I was 21. And I wouldn’t dream of dating her then….but now, it’s okay. Our minds are weird. Human, I guess. 
So when I see a teen or hear of a teen struggling, I see myself. I’m instantly transported to my days of discovery. And I guess that sparks on a transformation into a Daddy.
And I’m writing this all out because I feel like it needs to be said. I feel like there’s this sort of creep factor or age barrier that comes with the Daddy Dominant that misconstrues meaning. And I feel, a lot of the time, there’s a younger audience to my blog that needs to talk about something to a random who doesn’t know their friends or family. Who needs to hear they’re okay to experiment. 
Just like sometimes I need someone to tell me: it’s okay to feel like this. It’s an instinctual thing. You’re not a fucking creep. Even though, through writing this, I kinda feel like I am, you know?
So: the image of this girl testing the flame. It made me think of myself, it made me want to guide her, tell her things are okay. It made me want to walk the path with he while she opens the doors to discovery and sexual identity. 
This may be an 18+ blog, with mature themes, but I’d never turn anyone under 18 away. Because that person was once me. 

FIFTY SHADES DARKER TRAILER ARRIVES OR: How Fifty Shades can be a good thing.

 

AGWDM-BDSM-Newbies1-e1432272893211.jpg

So, the new Fifty Shades entry trailer is being released and with it comes the usual mix of excitement from the public and mixed responses from the BDSM community.

I, myself, voiced my responses with the entry BDSM and Fifty Shades but I thought I’d update with this entry because I am a sucker for fluff and this movie looks like popcorn fun.

The first thing I thought about when watching this trailer was the housewife fans. Yes, it’s a cliche but they do exist. If not housewives, then ladies in the ages the book targets.

I mean, there’s men out there that consider themselves gay because they enjoy it. They’re wrong – it doesn’t, guys. Romance is universal, sex is universal, so enjoy that shit.

Plus, a Fifty shades with two guys? That’d be kind of interesting. Imagine that dynamic. Someone needs to write that. Not me, I don’t know how effectively I could do two guys being intimate.

But the thing I thought about was the housewives being introduced to BDSM and the culture and all that stuff. I mean, the book represents it incorrectly and even then, from what I understand, the BDSM is just a gateway to explore semi effective erotic thriller fluff. And even then – watch Basic Instinct or Cat People or something.

But somewhere, there is a sweet sweet housewife that is thinking “Whoa, this arouses me. What the hell. I never thought this could be me”. This sweet sweet housewife researches the sensation. She experiments with her hubby, maybe she experiments with underwear, dressing out of the norm and being more of a seductive daddy’s girl and/or sultry slut. Maybe it’s like the matrix, man, it just wakes her up and all of a sudden – BOOM – she’s a submissive.

And this is the chain reaction around the world with different sweet sweet housewives and/or single ladies. Or straight men. Or bicurious men. Maybe there is a guy struggling with his sexuality, maybe he is a straight men in a straight marriage but wants a Domme. Who knows. But there’s that desire there, that other life brewing, and it’s fucking SEXY and HOT AS HELL.

So yeah, Fifty Shades came to life as Twilight fanfic and yeah, it is absolutely disheartening that it’s getting in millions when there are sure as shit fine first time authors struggling to get attention – but it’s starting like a new sexual revolution, man. People are getting into BDSM, they’re coming out of the woodwork. They’re declaring themselves whatever.

I used to Skype with a woman. Maybe she’s reading still, maybe she’s not. We had fine conversations, friendly – about lives, you know? She spoke sweetly, with a New York twang to her voice. She was very lively and bubbly and I haven’t spoken for like years now. But last Skype I recall, she was enthusiastic about the novel and upcoming film and expressed a desire to expand her horizons with the lifestyle. That right there is beautiful, man. I am happy to see that. So for what it’s worth, I am glad it’s opening the eyes of people.

I just hope they research it before doing it incorrectly and even possibly violently.

“Huh?”

fd623e30cb65888719b7f23de9d82510

“Huh?”. It’s a simple word, really.

And yet, I find it distasteful.

Now, this is just me. But under my leadership, any submissive, when engaging in discussion with me, should be speaking politely. If I say something that, for whatever reason, they mishear, “Huh?” is not the response that you say.

“Beg yours?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

So forth and so on.

My kitten has been struggling with remembering to exclude the idea of using “Huh?” as a response if she mishears me. In the past, I have, perhaps been a bit too kind, and let her off with a warning. Tonight, I did not. I told her that when she is finished her dinner, she can undress and bend over my knee.

I take no pleasure from smacking her, nor does she take pleasure from being smacked. At least…when it is a punishment.

The dislike of “Huh?” as a response, if I had to guess, comes from my upbringing. My father disliked it as well, as well as “What?”.
It’s actually interesting how much my upbringing kind of plays into who I am as a Dominant.

In any case, this has been my Wednesday evening. How has yours been?

The different meanings of being Dominant

 

Every so often, I stop and think about what it means exactly, for someone to be Dominant. And I get so caught up thinking about myself and my past and my future and how – in the present – I interact with my kitten. There’s a good and bad aspect to this for me.
The good side is that it allows me to reflect. Reflection is good. We get so caught up in our daily lives that we miss simple truths. Or sometimes we grow. Yes, we grow in mere months. Our tastes expand. What I wrote at the beginning of the blog you can find under “His Journals” and I am sure if I read that, I would add to it…and add to it….and add to it. I could keep adding and adding to it that it drove me mad. Here’s where the bad side of it comes in.

I’m sure I could think myself to death. Part and partial of having anxiety is that you think…and overthink…and overthink. It’s like a broken record. You go around and around and around thinking and analysing and coming to the truth, only it’s not the truth, there’s always a piece of information you missed, which means more thinking and more analysing. So I am going to add upon what I’ve said about the Dominant aspect and I’ll try my best to explain it and then somehow fight my compulsive behaviour to revisit and edit. Sigh. Bear with me.

But how is a person Dominant? It’s not just that he/she can top you in bed. Oh  no. Although, to be fair, there’s that. Which brings me to my next point: There’s a Dominant for the bedroom, maybe even outside, and then there’s a Dominant for the lifestyle.

The Dominant within the bedroom just wants to top sexually. They might even want to toy with the idea of owning you outside of the bedroom, purely for a sexual thrill. Like – wearing no panties to work or choosing your outfit for you. That sort of thing.

It’s when it begins to be not just about a sexual thrill but something far richer and deeper that it wanders into the territory of the ‘lifestyle’. And this is where a D/s relationship might come into play. The Dominant that wants in on the lifestyle is the Dominant I am, to use a personal example. If you’ll allow me to be more personal, it’s not enough that I dominant kitty in the bedroom. As wild and passionate and exhilarating that is, I need more. Because that side within me wants the tender love and ownership and control of the person out of the bedroom more than it does within.

It is insane the desire that fuels me to stroke her head and tuck her in. To want to read to her (We’re currently powering through Alice’s adventures in Wonderland of a night). To teach her to build up her confidence and let go of the chains. To nurture her and be a teacher to her. It extends to the symbolism of the collar. This desire to have her wear both a social collar, for privacy reasons in the workplace, and her own collar around the house. Why the desire to collar? Because she’s beautiful, sacred — fucking MINE. (And I can’t even begin to DESCRIBE the surge of possessiveness that came through my body writing that sentence). This beautiful, soulful kitten is mine. Those tender blue eyes, her gigantic ever-giving heart? MINE. Mine to protect.

And I love that. And I want to be her guardian and protector and I want to see that cute choke-worthy neck don that collar. It’s a complicated mess of emotions.

And that, for me, is Dominance within the lifestyle. A complicated mess of emotions, ranging from the deeply loving to the deeply brutal.

Now, of course, you can’t just define Dominance down to two categories – in the bedroom and deeper. I will, however, admit to disliking the individual that poses as a false Dominant when all they really want is sex. This angers me because, to me, that isn’t right. And it’s treating this beautiful man or woman as a cheap tool to which they will use to get off. NO. FUCKING NO. But I digress.

Every Dominant out there is going to take what a D/s lifestyle means to them and alter it how they want to because it suits them. It likes…parallel universes. Right now, there could be a parallel universe where I’m not writing but rather hanging out with my dogs because I felt you guys didn’t want another long-winding post. For every direction made, another universe is created in which the opposite choice is made. It’s science fiction but it’s kinda like that, every person shapes what’s being defined by other people as D/s and Dominant — to fit their life and it’ll go on and on like this for years, long past your existence or mine.

It’s complicated, it’s messy, it’s being Dominant. So if you find a growing interest in BDSM, if these interests start to go outside of the bedroom and start materialising in your personality and in your desire towards your partner or you’re own mind, then it’s the lifestyle for you. And the journey begins.

But, of course, it’s never that simple, is it?