In Which I Ramble About Primal Spirituality

I can’t blame people for thinking that being primal and feeling primal is all about pet play and all that entails. After all, in the beginning, when I didn’t know better, that’s where my mind jumped to.

But readers….goodness, it is so much more than that.

Ever since identifying as a primal here on this blog, I’ve had people ask me what it means exactly, and I’ve had many a philosophical discussions, some that move towards the analytical. To seek to understand.

I had an encounter today – think native Americans and howling – that triggered this feeling within me. A fondness for running wild, the wind on my skin, heart racing in my chest, howling until my throat was raw.

Being primal for me isn’t just a sexual fetish that I happen to enjoy, it’s almost a way of life, a wild feeling deep within me that wants to roam. It isn’t restlessness, not anymore (though I did feel that with my ex wife), but it’s more that I feel like being out in the wild, in communion with nature and other wild free ones such as myself. It’s a feeling where I want to go sit around a fire, worry about nothing and enjoy the evening and all of its splendour. It’s wanting to live, not exist, in this environment.

I struggle to explain the feeling, I know. I’ve talked in circles with people who ask and I feel bad about it because they ask me in the first place. It’s just this deep feeling that comes about. Of being in a tribe or a pack, of being one amongst a few other wild ones. It’s this and a whole bunch of other things. A need to howl till my throat is raw, to beat my chest and hoot.

Sometimes it even comes to identifying as an animal. A wolf or a bear perhaps. Because, see, you start to feel like there’s characteristics there within you. Traits like the animal. And maybe there are.

I used to think I was crazy for thinking this. It sounded delusional, to liken yourself to a wild animal, to feel animalistic sometimes. But then I discovered it was common in primal people. It’s so common that there exists packs of close friends, people that run together and hang together. I wasn’t alone.

And, at the end of a day, it goes deeper than just being primal. Because kink and BDSM can be spiritual for each and everyone of us. And sometimes we don’t know why we are drawn so deeply to it, we just FEEL it. Like an epiphany swelling in our chest. It’s there and raw and unfiltered and you shouldn’t shy from it, you should let it wash over you.

So if I had to end this day, and this piece, for you, dear readers of my blog, to which I’m eternally grateful for, then I want to end this moment with a little note: You are not crazy. You never were. This is just another piece of the puzzle. Take care of yourself. I’m always a message away if you feel like you are going stir crazy.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, dear readers! I hope it’s a wondrous year full of some beautiful memories you will treasure for a lifetime!

I still kick myself that people follow me – be it for the stories or random outlooks – especially in 2019, when I wrote less due to some anxiety spikes throughout the year and then finding a contract that keeps me writing – which I’m blessed for, I just need to manage time better. New goals this year!

Lastly, I want to say…no matter if you’re a man or a woman, a submissive or a dominant, no matter if you have zero experience in BDSM or a tonne of it, if you have a question about BDSM, want to say hello, ask about something I’ve written or want to talk philosophy of BDSM, you are always welcome to contact me personally, through my email or Twitter. Please don’t worry about being a bother, I am always happy to talk, no matter if it’s what I call ‘word vomit.’

I always tell people to ‘just write’ and not worry about structure or spelling mistakes or what have you, because I’ll read it no matter the length.

If you’re worried about me being busy and you don’t want to add to that, please try not to be. Writing to someone is far different than my work. It’s a welcomed respite. And even though I can be forgetful once in a while (Which I’m working on), I promise you I’ll always reply. I reply, not out of obligation, but because I genuinely want to. All are welcome.

Your endless support means the world to me. Thank you for following, for finding me interesting enough to follow, and hopefully I deliver for you this year.

Let’s make this a great year!

On My Mental Health & Nudity

Getting naked and being naked was a part of my journey into becoming more at ease with my sexuality. It was another piece of the puzzle in learning how to hold on to that confidence for myself. It was about learning to rewire my thoughts so I can learn to overcome my insecurity.

I can’t really put my finger on why that it is. Maybe it was because I spent my childhood on acres of bush land and developed a primal way to living. Maybe it was because I was raised in a conservative catholic household and nudity carried with it a sense of exhilaration, of something I shouldn’t be doing but am getting away with – something I still feel and know that others still feel in their own exhibitionist explorations.

Nudity was more than that though. It allowed me to confront my own sexuality and my own thoughts on kink and BDSM. It felt like a scalding shower, like I was stripping away the bullshit and there was nothing left but my vulnerable mind, raw and reeling.

I know being comfortable with my nudity was a turning point for me. I took nude selfies on Fetlife, challenging my perceptions. It helped that randoms found these photos and responded to him positively – but I feel that the real hurdle was just putting them online, of taking that dangerous leap into the unknown. Because the unknown is terrifying when we stare back into it, until we start to inch forward day by day – or even take that plunge.

Nudity allowed me to be in touch with all sorts of animalistic thoughts, some born from the exhilaration buzzing through me, some bubbling to the surface. By stripping away my clothes, I felt this weird sense of being in communion with the world around me. I felt positively charged. I felt good about exploring my racing thoughts as I was naked because I learned to sit with them. Day by day, I sat with them for a few minutes in a hour. Then I did that again the next day.

I resisted it in the beginning, feeling guilty and gross and nauseated. I felt that I wanted to hide away. But in the end, long story short and after much resistance and baby steps, I pieced together how I felt, thereby confronting my own insecurities.

When a new dominant or submissive writes in to me and asks about the ways in which they can confront their own feelings, I often recommend a period of reflection in the nude. As a mentor, I’ve recommended what has worked for me. And sometimes it helps or feels worthwhile for the individual, sometimes it doesn’t work at all. Everyone is different.

For me, growing at ease with myself and learning how to own this insecurity within myself meant coming to terms with the shape of my body. There’s a lot of things connected to nudity for me – my animalism, my dominance, my comfort. It was all knitted together from childhood, left for me to examine years later.

These days, I still feel silly or shy, but these moments are fleeting. I know my mind now and diffusing negative thoughts has become a little easier.

Pent Up

Being at my folks for Christmas is a beautiful thing I’ll cherish forever, but being isolated in rural countryside is tapping into my animalistic spirit. I want to run, I need to run. It’s clawing at me. And I can’t help but claw at my kitten, only for her to behave, out of respect for my family and our thin walls around the bedroom we are staying in.

I’m looking forward to getting back to my own house and claiming my lady so hard to make up for all the lost time. I need to mark my territory, shoot my load all over till I’m spent. I can’t stand looking into her eyes, which flicker with submission, and being unable to take her.

Those big, beautiful blue eyes as she looks up at me. I know she feels it. I can sense that in her. I hope I make her as soaked at times as she makes me achingly hard.

The thing is, something stops me – from masturbating in the shower, from taking her. Is she daring me? Is she teasing me? Does she secretly want me to take control? I feel I know her tones by now but sometimes the animal in me wonders.

God, if it wasn’t so crowded, I would tear off my clothes and go running through the acres of land my parents have, panting, sweating, clawing, seething, growling. I want to peel those clothes off till I see your bare, pale ass, till I see the animal hidden underneath – the animal no one else knows. I want to lay you down on the grass and inhale your scent till the presence of me before your sensitive pussy lips can’t handle it anymore and starts to soak, starts to drip. I want to break through sense and reason and reality and take us beyond this world and into something and somewhere else. Ascension? An alternate reality? Take me, O take me fucking there, please gods and goddesses of the wild. I pledge to you my heart and mind and cock and body. I want to slide right into her without warning, to hear her gasp and squeak. To fill her like she hasn’t been filled before.

But. That will come. Time to wear my mask and be in plain sight hiding.

Waking From A Dream: On Becoming Dominant

Learning that I was dominant didn’t happen overnight, it happened over years – through dreams, moments in relationships and through interactions where a need for protocol or discipline or control would spill out into my conscious mind.

It’s hard to describe it and it’s even harder to write about it. Towards the end of an entirely vanilla relationship, in which I buried any interests in BDSM because I tried to put aside what I wanted for what I believed was love and the betterment of the relationship, it started to gnaw at me till there were cracks in my existence, till that dominant persona came clawing out of me, growling and seething and ravenous. I truly felt like I was mad, being torn between two worlds. I felt insane.

My biggest test was accepting that all these desires and dark sexual interests and everything remotely kinky was who I am. I had to sit with my thoughts and my desires and accept that this was my mind and that there was nothing at all wrong with that.

I had to reboot my mind. I had to trust my gut instinct. But more importantly, I had to learn how to differentiate between what I truly feel and what is irrational. Being primal helped me, I feel. I learned to sit with my feelings, let them slow cook. In time, what was false would fade and what was real lingered. I could just tell the difference somehow.

And learning this about myself felt like waking from a long slumber. Like I was waking from a dream. I felt giddy and liberated.

It’s such a crazy situation – because I hear of people, I know of people, that have their own reasons to deny their innermost thoughts and feelings for a life of comfort but who am I to tell them differently? Everybody moves at their own pace. Saying it’s not easy to take that plunge is an understatement. It’s fucking terrifying. I was paralysed with fear. I don’t even know why I did it. Only that I needed a push. But you can’t interfere with lives. You can only offer support.

If you’re like me, if you are feeling trapped or like you’re waking up to your dominant or submissive side, don’t be scared of your inner voice. Take baby steps in listening to it.

It takes time but you can learn to listen to all thoughts so that you can differentiate between irrational thoughts and the things you really want, your true desire. Don’t confuse one for the other, that’s the tricky part, but in time you will know in the pit of your gut what is right and what has been fear.

Remember this – what you want isn’t invalid. You’re not a freak or insane or crazy for your interests in kink or wanting to become submissive or dominant. Try not to run from that because you’ll either create a false, yet comfortable reality or it’ll become stronger the more you deny it.

Learning to be at ease with that part of myself has been one of the hardest challenges of my life. I had to come to grips with my insecurity, my anxiety and my low self-esteem to be able to embrace that side of myself. It wasn’t easy, some days I still struggle, but I’ve been able to challenge my perceptions on not only my life but my views on religion and life and society and relationships.

Late Night Contemplation

So a reader asked me if I offered the opportunity for any reader to write in to me out of a sense of obligation and I wanted to just talk a little bit about that right now.

The answer is that I don’t just offer it to be nice. To me that’s not genuine and not something that I feel in my bones. I do it because I genuinely want to open the door for conversation. I want to provide a platform for people, who were like me in the beginning, to talk as much as they’d like. I know people can find that hard or don’t want to do that or struggle with shyness and being open is intimidating but I still like to leave that door open. I just hate the idea of someone suffering, even though I understand people have to forge their own path. I learnt that the slowest, hardest way.

I am scatterbrained and lately a gig I’ve had as a writer is kicking my ass and all my creativity is going into that. I’ll be forgetful to respond – sometimes I even THINK I respond when I haven’t. I can be very, what’s the word..? Absent minded? Head in clouds with my thoughts? I wrote about this on Twitter – when I write, I can hear the scene to the point where a sound bleeds through and I wonder if that’s life or in my imagination. Loud thoughts I guess. Or I’m insane.

The point is – while I’m scatterbrained, please don’t think that’s disinterest in charting or in a lack of patience. You’re not a bother, it’s just my mind. You should talk to me in person! Hop boy, am I one of those people that change gears mid sentence because – brain!

Anyway. I don’t know if this was an individual worry or if more than one person thought of it but I thought I’d throw it out there while it’s early morning and I’m contemplative!

Have a lovely day and take care of yourself!

November AMA!

I’ve had a lot of questions come my way of late so I figured I’d post some of them here!

As always, if you have any questions, you are more than welcome to get in touch!

On Writing

Do you write in one go or over the course of a long period of time, returning to it?

Sometimes I’ll write in one go. I’ve written stories for the blog like that. They’ll come to me out of nowhere and I’ll write them in one sitting – but if they’re bigger, I’ll break it off in chunks and spread them out over the week. Sometimes even longer.

I usually aim for 2,000 words a day. I’ll write more if I get lost in the story but I aim for 2k, knowing that I can stop there if I’m feeling drained and I can still feel like I have accomplished something in the day.

Do you take notes first or make a structure or do you just sit down to write and see what happens?

I take a tonne of notes – things that never even make the final story. It’s weird because I’ll plan out the setting like I’m building a house. So – say I have a scene with two characters living in an apartment, right? I’ll design the floor plan of the house – in my head, not in actuality – so I have a mental guide I can flesh out and narrate.

I also sketch out profiles on characters – their flaws, backstories, tastes, favourite novels. Even if it doesn’t get in there, it helps me build a character as I write the story.

I usually plan out a draft structure for chapters – but only the basic bullet points for what I want to hit. I like to freeform write so I leave s little room for spontaneous writing where voices and ideas come to me that I never planned for but let them breathe anyway.

Do you edit lots?

I try to. It’s a sin that I don’t do it enough. There is so much I read to proofread on the blog but there’s so also so much that escapes my busy eye so easily! It’s crazy.

So I apologise if I piss off some of you.

How much of what you write sees the light of day?

Hmmmm. More then 50%, I know that much.

There’s a lot that I put onto the blog, that are my genuine, raw fantasies unprocessed – but then some get drafted on my phone that I feel are too weird or too dark or even too personal.

I sometimes get worried I’ll go too far or I’ll sound too weird or mopey and I just leave it to sit on my phone. Case in point – the story about a teenage girl walking home from a party and being sexually assaulted by a possessed tree.

But I’ve also written this really vulnerable thing during an anxiety attack that I never posted because there’s always a fear of rejection I guess.

How do you write in terms of surroundings? music? place? time of day? do you write alone?

I have to write alone. In complete silence. I need to be able to transport my mind to the scene so I can see and hear and taste and all of those other weird writer things. Generally, though, I write for the blog during the night or curled up in bed naked.

Writing naked is therapeutic in a way and makes me feel comfortable and liberated enough to write freely. If that makes sense.

Sometimes I’ll write curled up in bed, if it’s a rainy day and the rain is pelting down on the window. It really sets the mood and charges me.

What is your most common source of inspiration? books, movies, music, daily life, dreams? people watching at the supermarket?

I would say my most common source is my dreams, followed my daily life. I have a lot of weird sexual dreams where I can feel every minute detail so intensely. Like, I can feel how hard I am, how wet this made up woman (or my kitten) is , I can sense my orgasm. Sometimes I even come – the point is, it’s very vivid and detailed. And weird.

But it’s not just dreaming, I gather inspiration from everywhere – the way my kitten has this foxy, babydoll look in her eye, a scene in a horror where a woman is skinny dipping. Hell, I remember writing about a submissive Japanese woman who fought back against conventions to be a samurai. I had her whole backstory fleshed out, did my research a bit, before I felt I couldn’t do it. But that just came from my interest in ancient Japanese history. And samurai cinema, of course. Ahem.

On Dominance

If you could only element of the lifestyle, what would you choose? The sexual or the non sexual?

It would definitely be the non-sexual because I find those tiny details endlessly fascinating. When I think about what I enjoy as a dominant and what calls to me, it’s the little soulful interactions like setting creative tasks or deep, meaningful conversation that fulfil me.

Come to think of it, the non-sexual parts were what largely interested in me the more I read up on BDSM and D/s. I was always curious about the sexual parts but what drew me in was the aspects that make up the dynamic in a non sexual way.

What are your favourite non sexual parts of the dynamic?

Being soulful with one another, you know? The little moments like that. Organising structure and protocol and setting tasks like kneeling before bed and asking the dominant if they can share the bed – or picking out outfits she’ll wear together. Little psychological interactions like that.

Are you able to differentiate between sexual and non-sexual or do they bleed together sometimes?

Oh they definitely have the chance to bleed together, depending on context. But yeah, a big part of what I ‘chased’ when I was learning to be dominant was the non-sexual side of the dynamic. To me, that’s what I was feeling in the pit of my stomach – the call for control of that structure and mind of another. That’s what stood out. So I learnt backwards, I guess? Or rather just learnt of the non sexual interactions first because I was intrigued by the psychology behind it.

Does it bother you to admit weakness?

Sometimes! If I’m particularly anxious, I will ruminate on what I think are my weaknesses, like weird social personality or my inability to properly express myself or just how absent minded I can be.

I’m getting better at slowly accepting that this is who I am, but some days it’ll hit me harder than others.