Do What Makes You Feel Alive / Late Night Ramblin’

As I sit here, half naked in front of a fan to avoid the scorching Australian summer, half trying to tiredly map out Valhalla chapters, a thought comes to my mind.

I’ve been on my Tumblr, scrolling through my feed, ghosts of stories coming to me from the remnants of safe-for-work semi-sexual pictures and I think to myself – we need to do what makes us happy. We have to be in it, whatever IT is, for ourselves.

I mean, when I was starting out as a Dominant and I was on Fetlife looking for answers, everyone had their own code, built up from whatever they felt right – and that’s fine. Everyone has their own customised role from the pre-established basic rules of BDSM and it’s many dynamics. But I struggled to find what was right for me.

The thing is, you need to – we need to – follow our own hearts and minds and desires and see where that leads, especially when it comes to our interests in BDSM. Sure we might fall. Sure we might hurt ourselves or even someone we love, but if such an event occurs, there is an opportunity to learn from that. And with learning comes growth.

I almost didn’t start this blog you know? I thought for sure that there were other, more experienced people – experienced Dominants, male or female – though I confess, I did initially think ‘experienced dominant males’. I mean, I thought: Oh I’m some joe blow from down under, I’m 26, what do I know? What can I add to the table?’ – I still think this.

I still think – what have I got to offer, even now? After all these years? I don’t know. But I’m not the point – the point is – you can’t think like that. You can’t afford to.

Who cares who is more experienced? We all grow, we all adapt and learn in different ways. At different times. We all bloom as flowers in different seasons – and we all make our own way.

More importantly, our differences are validated and can be thought of as unique. And difference can be beautiful to behold. I know that from learning the slow, slow SLOW way.

So, lurkers and readers I don’t hear from, don’t be too hard on yourself. Don’t compare. Don’t dwell. Try not to ruminate on how others run their lives – you’ll only find that leads to torment. Focus on what makes you laugh, what makes you giddy. What makes you alive.

Goodnight world. Sleep tight.

‘Under Protection’ – What Does It Mean?

When I was new to Fetlife and I saw the ‘under protection of…’ tag on profiles, I didn’t quite understand what it meant. It’s strange wording isn’t it? Sure, it says ‘under protection’, that person is protected – but by who? And what does that mean? And is it a platonic relationship or a romantic one? Just what does it entail?

It’s important to note that the use of the word has different meanings and this all depends on context. For example, a Dominant can be the protector of his or her submissive – but can also be a guidance for his or her trusted newcomer – a completely non-sexual relationship established together upon a set of decided rules.

Which isn’t for everyone, of course. There are those who view a protector as simply a predator preying on unsuspecting newcomers – and this can very much be the case, unfortunately. I hear of it happening time and time again. While others have stated if a person needs a protector in the first place, if they can’t apply critical thinking to what they want to approach, then maybe they should take a step back and wait.

There is also the view that the ‘under protection…’ tag on Fetlife is discouraging to those generally interested in the individual, that the tag does more harm than good and scares away folk.

One of the many viewpoints is that ‘to be under protection’ is to have a trusted friend that can talk you through the concepts of BDSM, vetting play partners (if that’s part of the agreement) and generally be there for you, either in person – to accompany you to live events – or online. What shape this ‘protection’ takes depends entirely on the individual and what they’d like.

If you’re thinking about wanting a protector or protecting someone, make absolutely sure you will define boundaries and terms and ideas, making sure you both are absolutely on the same page, otherwise that can lead to unnecessary drama and hurt and a breakdown in communication.

If you just met someone and you two are considering the label,take some time to get to know them. Talk often. Meet for a coffee date or organise a safe way to communicate online – be sure that they are a healthy fit for you and where you are now – and if you’re not confident or comfortable entirely with the idea, that’s okay too. We really do have all the time in the world.

At the end of the day, being somebody’s protector can mean entirely different things for entirely different people. It could be non-sexual, it could be a Friends-With-Benefits scenario where the submissive is accompanied to munches and clubs as moral support, it could just be moral support and a voice of guidance along the way, customised to an extent. It really depends on what people want and how people feel and I could be here all day discussing scenarios.

If you’re new to Fetlife and new to kink and this sounds appealing, try not to rush into it. Be careful. There are those out there who will abuse your trust to get their quick fix. They can easily be sussed out, their lack of interest and patience can be evident generally. Just be wary – but don’t despair! There’s plenty of good out there too.

My Growth As a Dominant

A few days ago (I think, the beginning of the year always feels like a non-linear sequence of events) I put out a Q/A type deal, just in case anybody new had questions or anybody wanted to ask something relating to a story or anything like that.

And a reader posed a question to me via email and it was a good one. I wanted to write about it on the blog because it’s something I’ve spoken about before – but not in depth.

Before I do though, I just want to say. If you’re reading this and you do have a question but feel like it’s too weird or personal to ask, just know that I really don’t mind – so far no one, in the years I’ve been writing this blog, has asked a question I haven’t been able to openly answer. So please, don’t fret if you’re out there and on the fence. I welcome it.

As for the question, it was in regards to my dominance. You see, the first dominant thing I experimented with was degradation and humiliation. It wasn’t spanking or cuffs or my belt or anything like that, it was this very raw, very psychological act.

The reader was interested as to why? Normally it’s the other way around – people start with a little light spanking or maybe a little dirty talk.

The answer is that it happened in a strange and organic way. My then-girlfriend and I, we just happened to be communicating via computer when our two sides seemed to awaken – and we experimented with every vulgarity then AND when we met up the next day.

Even when we realised something was happening between us, I don’t recall memories of spanking or bondage. Strangely, though, I do recall experimenting with exhibitionism, roleplaying, setting tasks and protocol and knife play. We seemed to jump right in the deep end of the pool, having sex outdoors or in cars, setting psychological tasks like masturbating loudly at home or risking getting caught or other aspects.

Why? I would say because we didn’t really know any better. We were 17 – young and dumb, excited about risk taking and the defined boundaries of BDSM – or BDSM safety were lost on us. We only had our sense of morality on what was right or wrong for us – and luckily we were safe through it all.

The things I have learned about myself, about what was right and what was wrong, about what I like, I have learned from encounters and friends in my twenties along the way. I have also learned to be a better man and a better dominant through my relationship with my kitten, who has helped me learn from any mistakes I make and who has been there to help me be more attentive and intuitive.

In Our Life

‘Hey hun?’

‘Mm?’

‘Where did the last of those biscuits go?’

I was a typical man foraging for sweets instead of a proper food.

‘I eated them.’

Behind closed doors, away from work, friends or family, I see someone else.

You might find it annoying, you might find that I, as a writer, lover of the written word, guardian of the prose, would find it annoying – but I don’t.

It’s interesting how different we are to one another, niceties slipping away, masks falling off to reveal the true face beneath.

Where work would hear ‘I ate them.’, I hear the little girl speaking through my kitten’s lovely voice, soft and smooth and sweet.

D/s and all its wonders, engrained into our life.

End Of Year Q/A! AMA!

After two seperate encounters this week, one in which a reader wrote in mentioning they wanted to write to me but wasn’t sure how to – and the other, talking to a new submissive about the very meaning of rules and protocol in a D/s relationship, I realise just how hard it is for someone – young or old – to sort out their feelings and to understand just what it is they’ve been trying to describe.

So since I didn’t do a November Q/A or AMA and there have been a few new followers from Tumblr since it’s purging of adult content (Welcome!), I thought I’d create this space for newcomers or people who have questions to ask them here or if they choose, at my email at darkanddominant@hotmail.com

Let me be honest – I’m writing this now for two reasons – the first because I will get a message in which the author apologises profusely for bugging me or taking up my time or for writing at length – and it doesn’t bother me at all. Not one iota. So reading that I can understand, but it certainly still breaks my heart.

The second because it occurred to me (as it does at several intervals in the year) how easy it can be to get lost inside your own head in a D/s relationship, especially if you’re young and new to the lifestyle – or just don’t know who to talk to.

It can be easy to take for granted what I know – but I forget – it doesn’t come easily to someone new.

To that end, please PLEASE feel free to write as much or as little as you’d like. No email is too long, no comment is too meandering. I don’t judge on naivety or inexperience and I certainly don’t shame or think people silly for their thoughts.

I can also use any questions in a forthcoming post so that it can be informative for anyone that has an interest in that line of questioning.

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.