The Primal Predator

Surely It’s got to be a primal trait, right?

Enjoying the way her beautiful chest rises and falls with her steady breathing. My eyes traveling to her lovely neck and thinking about the whimper she’d make when I wrapped my hands around her throat and squeeze.

In my travels to find photos to inspire my mind, writings, sex life, I came across a gif of a woman cornered. The unseen figure had a knife trailing across her flesh, sliding underneath the strap of her nightie.

To me, it feels like such an animalistic mood or mindset – finding myself enthralled by the sight of her before me, taking in the tiniest details. How huge her eyes might seem, how glazed they might be. How she might stand there. Would she defy me? Would she be testing me in a battle of wills? Standing her ground? Would she hit me back with a verbal sparring? There’s a part of me that would like a challenge.

That’s another thing. There’s something alluring about that invitation to spar mentally, to begin the match, the chase, the hunt – whatever you want to call it. However it begins, it’s a connection between two minds. And that’s incredibly attractive. In a way, that’s really what helps drive my dominance – that connection between minds.

But going back to my earlier wandering thought – I don’t know, it just seems like such an animalistic thought process that’s almost seperate to dominance because of how my eye is drawn to those things. I mean – and this harkens back to my sadistic side – there’s a curiosity that I have with how the individual reacts before me. There’s a sadistic glee that creeps into my bones, at hearing their whimper – and it’s a smirk that spreads across my face as I see their eyes flicker with that dance between obedience and disobedience.

It’s an aspect of my dominance that comes and goes like the seasons. With the sporadic Melbourne weather we’re having here – the change between wild winds and rain and strikingly sunny days – there seems to be a change in my mind. I’m feeling that charge, that atmosphere that could drive me to strip a poor pretty little thing of her singlet (tank top for the un-Australian) just because the sight of her shoulders makes me ponder deeply.

I immediately self sabotage – calling myself a typical male or a dirty man – something I think that is from my own childhood – being raised as a strict Catholic. But it’s there, this mindset to cut away her clothes with a growl and see the look in the eyes of the fellow primal someone that stands before me and wants to see just what kind of animal resides within.

And I guess I ask the question, that it’s got to be a primal trait, because of how intensely I focus on the little reactions. It just seems like such a predatory aspect, a laser-focused sight on the tiny, beautiful features of a person. The things that fascinate me.

Whatever it is, however predatory it may be, it is a big part of who I am. I don’t want to deny it anymore, I want to understand it.

The Driving Force Behind My Dominance

What is the driving force behind my dominance?

Gosh, I feel like I’m staring down my computer at the start of an essay paper with a question like that one. What is the driving force?

On my Instagram, which is basically a college of the inside of my mind, I put up an image — and my whole body begins to react, my skin flushing with a heat that’s all too familiar. My mind is already in the theatre, experiencing past anticipations – the build up, the pause, the relief.

I feel the desire to smack her lovely, tantalising ass – spurred by the image, the invitation, the fantasy, the setting.

It still scares me, you know? This intense, all-consuming, burning desire – to smack her ass, to feel the biting sting on my palm, to feel the pain. THROUGH HER or WITH HER.

It still scares me because of how sudden it comes on — and I’ve tried writing about it. It’s hidden in my stories, this feeling of something slinking up my body, taking me over, possessing me. I kinda think of Venom, from the Spider-Man universe, if I’m honest. This symbiotic lifeform attaching itself to me.

“Do you feel like you don’t have a choice?” I was once asked by a reader who emailed me and wanted to delve into the psychological. “The way you write about it, it seems like you’re not on board with it.”

I guess me liking my dominance to darkness or to a symbiotic creature is because sometimes it does feel like that – because it’s so different to who I am outside of kink and this blog and this life. Maybe the only way my pop culture-addled brain can make sense of that part of who I am is by touching on the media I consume or have consumed.

And while I’m the first to wince back at something I write – Goodnight, Sammie! is a good example of wincing, being a particularly savage story for me to write – I don’t think negatively or it and I don’t want to put it away in a chest in the back of my mind.

But what is the driving force behind my dominance?

An impulse? A need to control? To oversee with a watchful eye the measures of pain and pleasure? To not only own someone in such a sexual and non sexual way but to OWN MYSELF? Own that exhibitionistic, voyeuristic, sadistic side of my mind that is so different to the guy that sings Disney karaoke in the shower?

I think that might be it. A need to connect – on a deep level, on a sexual level and on a non sexual level. I’m a Libra, I wear my heart on my sleeve, I like my hearty romance just as I like to strike her pretty, pale ass with a whip till she’s somewhere between a moan and a cry of pain.

And I need that in my life because without it, I’m some kind of Tarzan beast, right? Unkempt and unfulfilled. A caged tiger perhaps. Just pacing around the exhibit, restless and wild.

Whatever it is, whatever I am without it in my life, it’s crazy how an image can just affect me like that – just trigger my dominance. Because it needs to come out, it has to come out, it’s going to happen right now. It’s that crazy feeling of something tearing out of my chest and wanting to fuck madly and breathlessly. Does anyone ever feel that affected by an image? I don’t know.

I’m going to crash. It’s going on 1am here and it’s been a crazy week to start 2021.

I hope you are safe. I hope you are doing well. I want to thank you for hanging with me, for reading this, and I want you to know that if you ever want to chat – about your week, your dominance / submission, this piece or whatever, you can always reach me at — darkanddominant@hotmail.com

A Few Extra Thoughts On Mentors and Mentoring

I want to talk about the mentor role – because I’ve heard a few cases recently where there has been some miscommunication about what exactly a mentor is and how exactly they’ve operated.

I know I’ve talked about it before – and you can find that here – but I thought I’d reiterate for some new readers as well.

Think of a mentor as a friend, a life coach, your very own help line in the game show that is life. They can shed light on the lifestyle, they can recommend readings and resources, they have a responsibility to be objective and not influence the person learning with their own beliefs. But ultimately this should be about the growth of the person and helping them come to terms with their feelings.

It’s a controversial aspect because some believe Mentoring should only be done with people you intend to go further with, to enter negotiations and eventually a harmonious D/s relationship.

Others think that only a Dominant can mentor a dominant and only a submissive can mentor a submissive.

It’s a tricky thing, because I have enjoyed mentoring both but at the same time I have also recognised that I simply don’t have the mindset when it comes to, say, sub frenzy or other deeper, intimate feelings of submission. I can help, I can certainly relate from the other side of the coin but whether that’s enough is up to the individual in what they want and who they want to talk to.

I’ve heard mentors taking advantage of submissive women learning, to give them tasks, to tell them things like when they can and cannot masturbate. If you’re learning and this is the case, if you’re not reciprocating the feelings or interest, then this mentoring person is in the wrong and wholly abusing the chance to help.

A mentor doesn’t have that authority. Plain and simple. They are there, on YOUR accord. To help you. Unless you two click and want to explore things sexually, romantically, they should not be doing such a thing.

They’re there for as long as you need that help. They don’t get to give you orders or tasks.

Don’t let that dissuade you from talking with one – because the thing is, there are some lovely men and women out there that work one on one with people, just as there are men and women out there that will abuse the help for their own personal gain.

If you think you want a mentor, be careful and be slow and take your time and be wary of not only what feels wrong to you that they might be doing but also the frenzy and appeal of BDSM and D/s. It can be all too easy to be swept up when you’re new and learning.

On Inexperience, Writing & Self-Exploration

I’ve been pondering about a question that came my way…gosh, a few months ago now I think? Time has been weird lately – but it was about whether someone who is new to BDSM could write about it, fictional or otherwise, successfully? Or have it be correct in any way?

I’ve been thinking about experience a lot – when it comes to BDSM. I’ve been in a bit of a teacher / mentor mood, I guess, because someone new to the lifestyle wrote in to me and expressed frustrations about being ghosted by a potential Dom due to a lack of experience.

I can’t say I agree with that reasoning but I certainly understand how one could come to think like that. But I digress.

I think that when it comes to writing about BDSM, it’s important to trust in where your mind wants to go, do you understand? Because when you put pen to paper, you ignite your mind. You form a sentence. Then another one. Then you create a paragraph.

Or you don’t. Instead, your heart’s a mess and so is your writing. But it’s down, it’s on the screen or the page and you’ve trapped it. Whatever is in your head is there, frozen in time. A symbol of YOU.

What I’m saying is – writing is cathartic. And through exploring it, you’ll find pieces of your self, through which you night learn some truths about your tastes.

And if you want to write about a specific moral scenario – a rape fantasy, say – do what feels right to you. It’s only a fantasy. But if that’s not enough, write your thoughts on it in a seperate file or page. Explore how you feel about whatever it is you are confronting. Hell, ask the community. Ask me, my door is open.

Regardless of inexperience. Or shyness.

Writing…whether you want to and you’re either a dominant or a submissive or both, it’s about discipline. It’s about sitting down and confronting structure. Not just of words but of your mind. So find a time in the day to write 300 words. Do it again the next day. Leave each break on a moment you are excited to come back to. In a week, you’ll have a decent chunk of the story or your thoughts out.

As for that pesky experience thing, that’s another realm of variables. What if you are knowledgable enough about BDSM but aren’t in a circumstance to explore physically to gain more of an understanding of your wants and needs?

The best answer I have for that is one that might not be to your interests. When I was alone – a lonely dominant, I guess you could say, I peered into the depths of my sexuality. I explored and became comfortable with nudity. I explored my pain threshold, my comfort with verbal degradation. I found new ways to heighten masturbation. Little things that excited and stimulated my mind.

Everybody is different though and to that, one must find what works for them. But still, I think there are things you can do to gain experience.

Please don’t let shyness deter you. Or your writing. Or your self-exploration. Or from reaching out to a friend, the community, a Dom or sub or even me. There’s no easy way to say this but you’re going to have to jump into that pool if you want to write or to reach out. And just like coming up for air after that plunge, it all feels a little bit better after you jump.

Seriously though. You’ve got this.

In These Times

In these crazy times, I have to keep to some semblance of my dominant self. I have to practice what centres me, my soul or my essence, and exercise discipline and restraint within myself.

I like to undress. To feel my clothes just drop from my body, skimming my skin as they make their way down to the floor. I like to practice my breathing – breathe in slowly, one. Two. Three. Exhale slowly – Remember my place in the world, my place in relation to the space around me, to the environment around me.

I wish I had a forest to run through naked. To feel the grass whip at my legs, feel the sun beating down on me, the crisp air barreling down into my lungs, the sweat slicking my skin and hair. But that’s a wish. That’s where my mind travels to when I close my eyes and feel my nakedness in the privacy of my bedroom.

Being in self-imposed isolation, it’s important for me to maintain the rituals that satiate the other parts of my mind – the beast that I had to wrestle to form a balance. It’s important not to lose sight of that unexplainable magic within ourselves, which no words can do justice to.

In these crazy times, it’s important to maintain that balance with my kitten – to create solace for her but to also be sad with her, to weather through her storm and come out the other side and shelter her. Before our two wild animals within play-fight.

You are not alone out there. We’re all in this together. Don’t let panic hop in the driver’s seat, don’t lose sight of who you were before and we’ll get through this together.

Don’t Let Others Affect Your Kinky Mind

When I was starting to learn about BDSM and kink and dominance, one of the things that was terrible to shake was the idea of what other people thought. What would they think of me or my fantasies? Would they shun me or turn their nose up at me? Did I really think I was kinky when I was just mad?

It took a loooooong time to feel comfortable about myself and my fantasies – which happened to lead to this blog. I’ve been blessed to have people follow and enjoy what I write. It’s given me confidence and in many ways, a safe haven.

Even now, I will get some unsavoury responses to some of my stories or fantasies that I’ve put out there. That’s fine, because people are different and enjoy different things and have different approaches – but sometimes it can still sting a little.

My story – In The Flesh – a particularly dark (dark for me because I let myself go to dark places mentally) erotic story – I’ve been asked if I would actually DO something like that. I welcome questions that engage in whatever I write, because that’s fruitful and stimulating for me. Anyone can write in to me. But it made me think. Is it bad if I say, yes, in a controlled environment, I WOULD do something like that. Yes indeed. And it would make me hard and giddy and switch on this sadistic, Master-like aspect in me.

I guess what I’m trying to write is that I feel something so strongly as that and every once in a while I’ll take a step back and think “Woah, IS there something wrong with me?”. A fleeting thought, but a thought nonetheless.

I think, for those just looking to explore BDSM and kink, that you should by all means have your dark fantasies. And the best thing you can do is think freely without wondering what others think of you, so long as you understand the boundary between reality and play – OR, at least, the boundaries of consensual non-consent.

It may still sting from time to time, if you’re anything like me, but in time you will come to see that everyone operates in a different world and see through their own reality. So should you. And don’t you forget that!

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.

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.

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.

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.