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.

BDSM Social Media and Our Own Anxieties

I was scrolling along Fetlife the other day and a thought occurred to me of how awkward it can be for newcomers to make friends or meet someone or even work up the courage.

I mean, that shit is hard enough without the BDSM interests and desire to converse with others in the lifestyle, not to mention the interests in wanting to put yourself out there but finding yourself frozen.

Fetlife can be a great way to get to know others and to get involved in the community but it certainly can be awkward at first, especially if you’re like me and can be incredibly anxious in social situations and so forth. Or just straight up shy.

A good thing to remember is to go at your own pace. You can push yourself in tiny increments but only if you feel comfortable talking in the group settings or going to munches or other such events.

If you feel overwhelmed with it all, do not feel bad or silly or like you can’t ever be kinky. Some have those thoughts – I know I did – but it’s important to recall that we all grow in our own ways at different times.

If you’re ever unsure about what you want or what is proper etiquette when it comes to being spoken to or speaking to someone – there are communities out there that can be helpful. Reddit has a good community for this, with its own BDSM sub-reddit for advice. There are still some small communities across Instagram, Twitter and Tumblr – even post-infinity snap.

Working on or identifying what is making you feel anxious or inferior or weird can help you feel a bit more confident. Tell yourself that what you are thinking and feeling is okay and has certainly been thought of before, by those around you and long before you too. Make a habit of it.

Me? I did it with nude selfies. I felt unattractive (still do at times) and I fought it – and my guilt at liking kink – by putting up nude selfies and experimenting with risky photos of myself. It helped boost my confidence.

Take it from a guy that grew up in a severe, sexually repressed and conservative catholic household and now has the time of his life with rape fantasies. You’re going to feel guilty, weird and insane but don’t let those feelings own you. They will fluctuate and pass. See it as you’re exploring a fantasy within safe parameters.

Keeping a journal can be a productive way of keeping track of your thoughts – or of trapping them to the page where you can digest them and reflect upon them. Writing your thoughts down can lead to truth and clarity. Sometimes it’s good to just write a fantasy, even if you can’t write well, just give it a go and see where you end up. All of this made me feel a bit more peaceful and a bit less chaotic and maybe it’ll help you too.

Maybe Fetlife or other social aspects of the BDSM community isn’t for you and that’s fine. I don’t go to munches or events because it’s not really my thing. People are wired differently.

But if social anxiety or doubt or insecurity is gnawing at you and you want to drop into these things, just remember you can take baby steps to challenge yourself and no one will judge you for it. You are the captain of your own soul.

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.

So This Blog Has Been Running For Five Years Today.

^ I never used to be comfortable with choking until my current partner, my kitten, egged me on like the low-key shit stirrer she knows she can be. That’s why I used this picture. Once upon a time, I used to squirm at choking. I used to feel nothing but distraught and guilt. I still do but now, at least, it comes with a level of horniness, precise control and sadistic glee.

But hello! Happy Thursday! According to WordPress, today marks the five year anniversary of this here blog. Since I’m sentimental about time measurement, I thought I’d indulge in a little note here.

I can’t start a sentence with a ‘I just want to thank…’ without thinking I’m accepting an award BUT I do genuinely want to thank each and every reader out there – the lurkers, the ones who found the courage to ask questions for themselves, the ones who trusted me enough to take me on as a mentor – or life coach, I suppose. Or is that lifestyle coach? Either way, I thank you for your endless support, your constructive criticisms, your challenging and friendly debates and your presence alone.

This blog has been an invaluable source of inspiration and growth for me, as has the people who comment in because concepts have arisen that have helped me reflect upon myself – such as that time I co-wrote a piece with a fellow writer about sadism and why I’m that way. But I feel like I’m still growing and finding things out about myself.

If I learned one thing about this experience, as both a human and a dominant, it’s that writing out my thoughts and reflecting has helped. So don’t let time slip by you. Challenge your thoughts, be who you want to be. Write for yourself. And don’t forget, as long as I’m running this weird blog, you’re never out of an anxiety buddy or someone to unload to!

One last thing. I’m always open to suggestions or things you’d like to see a focus on for this blog. If there’s something you’d like to hear about, let me know! Because chances are, it’s a window open for me.

I’m Gathering Questions for a later Q/A so Ask Me Anything!

Hullo ladies and gentlemen!

We’re at the end of February, seasons will be shifting soon and moods will be changing. I thought that now would be a good time to put it out there that I’d love to do another Q/A with my readers – new or regular.

Anything goes, really. There’s no boundaries to anything you want to ask. It can be about your own journey, it can be about me or something I’ve written, it could be about something you want me to write about, it could be questions about dating or D/s or — anything. For me, as long as you’re comfortable, the sky is the limit!

Please feel free to ask via commenting below or you are always welcome, submissive male or female, dominant female or male, slave, pet, newbie – whoever! – to write to me personally. You can reach me at my Twitter or at my email – darkanddominant@hotmail.com

I’ll be hoarding questions and answering them sometime in this last week of Feb so don’t worry about having too many. The only silly question is the one not asked!

Have a beautiful weekend!

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.

The Interview

Dear Lord, I can still see her in my mind, sprawled out on the chocolate leather couch of my home theatre. I can still picture her eyes, the lightest green I’ve ever seen, looking at me in a way that feels vaguely fox-like.

Freckles are splashed across her fair skin sporadically. Her hair – the faintest colour of orange – falls across her arms, drapes across her small breasts.

Her breasts…like Snow White, only her nipples are ruby coloured, hardening for me as they are.

And Dear Lord, I can still see her pubic hair. Do you know how torturing it is, this gift you’ve given? I can see her slit when I close my eyes, down to a single red hair.

I can see her pubic hair, like a slash of fire across her slit. When she shifts her legs, for a second I can see her arousal glisten underneath the soft lights.

I remember asking me something, leaning back on the couch, because I remember thinking that the scene reminds me of The Graduate, but I couldn’t tell you what words she spoke, only that her voice sounded silky smooth, with a playful edge.

Why did she come to my home? Why does she interview me in my home theatre, notepad once across her lap before she started to undress.

Why was so she patient, as the unseen man behind the curtain drew me away from the home Theater – to see to my meddling cat, to address a question to my meddling guests. Don’t they see that I have questions to answer to this lady myself?

I think what perplexes the most, as I ease my cock into this woman, is how much I wanted her.

God, has anything ever felt any better than when I ease into her tight, wet snatch? Has anything ever felt better on my ears, to hear her moan in time to my thrusts?

God…Satan…Angels…Devils…don’t watch me consume this woman, don’t watch me sink into her skin as we become one with one another.

Who am I kidding? I can’t look away. Not from the watchful lightest green eyes of this woman.

Why does she want me so bad? Why me? What do those green eyes see?

As much as my cock is driven by the feeling of her each time I split her lips apart and slide in, I’m driven by the sight of her – sinking into the couch, twisting her head to the left to let out a moan, her hair across her shoulders in tangles.

Who is this cruel mistress? Who are you and why are you here? I want to ask her, but I’m transfixed by her with each move, unable to tear myself from her in the confines of the home theatre.

The interview will continue another time.

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.

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.