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 Discovering I was Primal

I didn’t meet a person within the BDSM community that identified as being a primal until I was 26.

I didn’t even know the full extent of being a primal – I didn’t know about pet play, being a predator, being a prey or traits OF a primal person, even when I had a few of those traits.

I knew I was dominant. I knew I liked being naked outdoors, knew that it exhilarated me. I knew that the outdoors, as much of a house creature I can be, thrilled me. Oh to think of running, the wind in my hair, my heart beating, my legs kicking into gear. It was a beautiful, beautiful thing.

When I was 26, long after my marriage failed, I decided to sign up to Fetlife and not shut it down out of fear this time. And through happenstance, I met a lovely Canadian lady who I got along really well with – I mean, similar sense of humour, the type of rapid fire wit that flows. It was lovely, and I didn’t quite understand at the time why it was so lovely. Until she, on a whim, started to express wolf-like aspects – little whines over Skype calls, talk of wrestling over a disagreement about favourite movies. I started to sense something, or maybe I DEVELOPED the means TO SENSE through talking to her.

And the topic of being primal came up. I was a bit confused at first, till she pointed out traits I had, which she, or the animal within her, responded to. And suddenly it all made sense – why I liked to growl, why I liked to run naked as a teenager through the Bush, why I felt SOMETHING fighting back within me when I was married and had chosen to stop thinking of BDSM and kink because I wanted to work for my marriage and be a good husband. Something primal and animalistic was there, it always there.

As these things sometimes go, one day we just stopped talking. Days went by, then weeks and then months. I haven’t spoken to her since, which is a shame because I owe her a lot. I guess that’s life, in a way. Strangers. Angels even? Who knows.

I’ve learned a lot about primal since then. A lot of it has come through googling, a lot has come through my own development and my development with my kitten, who has primal traits herself.

It’s strange meeting another primal person because sometimes I get this sense, however brief. I pick up on a trait, an inkling in someone. I can feel their openness and spontaneity and how raw they have themselves open to conversation – and how they conversation can flow! Usually these people and I get on like a house on fire – sense of humour and personality is similar and it’s easy to chat to them.

But it can be lonely too, sometimes. I check reddit, I’m part of Fetlife. I occasionally log into The Cage – I rarely see anything about a primal. I know it can be anything from not being advertised or being straightforward enough to mention – but it’s almost like it’s not at the forefront of Kink or D/s or BDSM. Or maybe it’s just me and it is there but behind whatever else someone displays via their notes or text or picture.

I don’t know about about anyone else, but sometimes it can feel like you are alone adrift at sea. I am blessed to have my kitten, my partner, who licks me and wrestles me to the bed – I have that connection now. But I didn’t always, and even then sometimes it’s just nice to know that there are others like you out there too, getting in touch with their own darkest desires.

To any folk out there, you are definitely not alone. There are more of us than you may think.

How Do You Know If You’re Primal?

I’ve written a lot about the primal dynamic and what it is and what it means to me personally. Shamefully though, I’ve never touched on how you can tell if you are primal – and if you’re new to the lifestyle, this just adds to an ever growing list of dynamics and their rules that can potentially overwhelm you. Especially when being primal and feeling primal can be different for each and every one of us.

So what are some of the ways you can tell?

Behaviour

Take a moment to look back at your behaviour throughout moments in your life. How do you feel when you are naked? Can you recall some mannerisms during sex – a grunt or a growl, a surge of energy rocketing through your entire body? Perhaps a longing for nature – secluded woods, away from society? How do you feel about being outdoors?

Before I even knew what bdsm or being primal was, I was running through acres of land completely naked. I was masturbating in the muddy grounds after a storm. I was scratching and biting and growling during sex.

More importantly, I would experience moments – during sex or when I was horny or even outside of the bedroom – where I felt…different. And I had no idea why or what that meant. I felt different and restless and like I wanted to just find a clearing in a rainforest, lay down to feel the grass on my body and be…free. Away from everything going on in your life.

Manifestations

Maybe it comes out in a moment – you feel different, possessed by some sort of indescribable energy. You want to do things and say things that you know might challenge perceptions – but it’s there, on the tip of your tongue or bubbling to the surface. Maybe it comes out of you like a strike of lightening – you feel it wash over you before you come back down to earth. Maybe you feel like being rough during sex, choking and pulling and being held down or holding down?

I used to be scared of that feeling. I thought I was mentally ill or wired wrong and that no one could ever identify with how I felt because I was weird and unnatural and pushing any boundaries of good taste.

What I failed to see was that I was merely shedding my social profile – letting the primordial feelings come to the forefront of my mind to play and breathe a moment. Feeling strange and weird came about because I would settle back down into the boundaries of society, ready to be a well behaved citizen to the city I was in at the time.

Identity

This one may not extend to everyone – but some primals associate with an animal. They feel linked to the animal world, they feel that behaviour creep in to their mentality and waking life.

Primal folk can have ‘packs’ – groups of close friends with perhaps an unique set of rules and protocols and an established hierarchy. I’m not too well versed on this, I’m afraid, as I’ve mainly been a lone wolf or at least in a pack of two – myself and another.

Have you felt a longing to a particular animal? A call from the wild? A call to adventure? Maybe there’s more animal in you than you might realise – and there’s nothing at all wrong with that.

Primal can also extend to the PREDATOR and PREY state of mind – the urge to chase and roughly tackle and the urge to be chased and to be roughly tackled. Imagine the wrestling in the dirt, connected to the earth, hair strewn across faces in the entanglement – think on that and you’re on the right track.

Being primal means getting to a state of mind in which you are unfiltered, focusing on natural impulses, raw urges and usually a ferocious sexual appetite. It’s not always sexual though, sometimes it can relate to your confidence or your sense of humour, or your social anxiety.

More than this, it’s about retreating back to a place where you can think and feel without stigma, where you can be primitive and animalistic and as feral as you’d like to be.

It’s a beautiful, powerful and freeing to be primal and animalistic – but it can also be terrifying if you don’t know why you’re feeling the way you are.

To those scared of it, I will say this: shoving it far, far away will only make things worse. Instead, sit with your wild feelings. Get to know them. Push yourself but push gently. You have all the time in the world to grow at ease with these new concepts.

If you have any further questions, if I need to clarify on a few things, if you think you are primal and want to talk it over, you are always welcome to get in touch with me either in the comments section below or directly to my email at — darkanddominant@hotmail.com

12 Days of Kinkmas: Day #11 – “A Kitten for Christmas”

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She kept the best gift for last.
After all was unwrapped on their quiet Christmas morning, after they had their breakfast together – coffee and blueberry bagels – she disappeared into the spare room of their first house together, pulling open the cupboard door and reaching up over head to grab the box with the red and white stripes pattern.
She returned to him waiting on the couch patiently, hands in lap, and gently sat the box down in his lap.
“What’s this?” He asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

She knew he didn’t like surprises – and something in her delighted in this small twist of fun she was doing to him – but she nodded towards him in a gesture that said open it and see.
He did so, carefully lifting the lid with both arms to see — the contents wrapped in plain gold wrapping paper.
He sighed, the way he knew she found funny, and paid no mind to the delicate wrapping paper, tearing it free and finding –
Cat ears around a headband.
He pulled it out of the box, running his hands over the black fuzz on the ears.
She couldn’t supress the smile on her face, it spread like wildfire, her cheeks taking the full brunt of the force.
Below the cat ears was a pink collar, as soft and fuzzy as the ears, with a little silver pendant attached reading Kitten.

“Interesting…just your size.”
He placed the collar on the cat ears – there was more to come.
Below the collar was a medium sized butt-plug, sleek and black. Attached to the end of it was a cat tail, soft and fuzzy (again) with a white stripe down the middle of it. All of this bought for just $79.99 – though he would never know that.
“I…must say. I am lost for words.”
She knew this, could tell this, from just the sound of his voice. He had this tone about him when he couldn’t find the words. It was a sweet feature. Genuine and shy and honest.

She could tell he liked it though, she could see thatin his eyes, the way they lit up with mischief, his mind going a million miles an hour just thinking of the possibilities.
Before she could talk about it, before she could say what was on her mind or even address how they’ve both been wanting to explore this part of themselves for the better part of their busy year, he was already getting up, pink fuzzy collar in hand.
“May I…Or would you rather –“

She was already brushing the intruding hair out of her eyes and behind her neck before he could finish.
With the collar attached, warm and snug around her neck, she felt truly at home – comfortable. At peace. She could tell by the way his eyes were beginning to glass over at he was at the same spot she was.

He put his arm around her and drew her in for a cuddle.

30 Days of Kink – Day #30: Free Time to Ponder

Write or create a list of whatever BDSM/kink related thing you want to.

This is it! The last day! And it lands after the beginning of my Christmas themed stories, sorry for that! The last ten days were hard to get out / keep track of!

Anyway, Day 30 is all about free time so what I wanted to do was have this time for anyone to ask any questions, be they about their lifestyle, my lifestyle or just to talk about any stories I’ve written recently. Please don’t be shy, the only silly question is the one not asked.

The other part of Day 30 I wanted to throw out there were things I’d like to try but haven’t yet, for whatever reason.

Now that my lady and I have a place to call our own, I’d like to fully implement pet play into the space. We’ve wanted to play with cages for a while now, we just haven’t had the space until now. So that’s something to work towards.

While I’m on pet play, I would like a honest-to/goodness run. Lungs working overtime, sweat coating my entire body, my heart racing in my ears, pumping that blood, my cock hard from a mix of feelings.

We live in the suburbs so there’s not a whole lot of option to run nude lest I want to end up on the police’s most wanted, heh!

Maybe one day I’ll write a Stepford-Housewives type of story where someone like me discovers this primal underbelly of his neighbourhood and finds a pack in the people around him. Maybe we’re all possessed by the spirit of the country, that could be gold. Maybe my main character will fight the alpha and it’ll end in murder, blood in his mouth, jugular torn out, cock hard. Feral. A mix of savagery and eroticism and just thriller. Annnnyway.

Then there’s the idea of collaborating in erotic art with someone. I like the idea of writing a story with someone of the opposite sex / dynamic, you know? I’ve worked on ideas with kitten in the past – we meld concepts and I do the writing – but I’m always looking for different voices too.

Just Write

So. I just got an email from a reader of my blog and it struck me as sad and it’s for these reasons that I want to write this piece.

If you’re going to write in to me, if you want to write in to me, there’s a couple things I, personally, want you to know and understand.

I’m not as busy as you think. I’m not running around like a headless chook, know that while I may work, I also definitely check my email daily and respond in full as soon as I can.

I don’t respond to emails to be polite to you, to what a reader described as ‘a self proclaimed fangirl’ – I respond because I want to. You must understand, I started this blog not just to share my fantasies and satisfy a part of me, I did it in case it could inspire someone as awkward as I was when I started off.

So I love hearing from people – young, old, male, female, Australian, American, Norwegian – the more the merrier. Language barriers be damned! I love conversing with people and I love talking BDSM and it’s lifestyles.

Whether you’re a fan or seeking answers or even if you a bone to pick with me about something I wrote. Grill me. I welcome all of it, criticism, friendly chatter, the like.

You’re not bothering me. At all. In all my years of blogging, in responding to the kind people that write in, I can honestly say not one email has bugged me, not one. Even if one person has a laundry list of questions, I’ll sit down and work it out with them until they’re more spent then I am. Seriously. So never ever think that YOU are the person that will be too much for me, because that just won’t be the case. Try me, I dare you!

Do you want to write but don’t know what to say? Do you feel stupid because I can talk so openly and you find it rough to? I’ve had years to process how I feel, to work to rise above my own shyness. I was the same as you in the beginning. We all start somewhere and blossom on our own time.

I will say this though – just write. Don’t worry about grammar or context or anything, just write. I honestly care not for long novel-length texts, I read every word and respond. I’ll even write a long novel-length email of my own.

Start at the beginning. Write how you feel. Find a place to start at, to get the ball rolling, and then just let it go – just write and let it loose. If it feels good, write it. If it doesn’t, write it anyway and send it.

Too many times have I read that someone wanted to write in sooner or deleted several iterations of the email they just sent – and it breaks my heart.

I know I can’t TELL people what to do. I know I can’t get people to talk as frankly as I do, but I’m writing this because I want you to know, anything you have to say, in any way, is perfectly A-OK by me and that you should not feel shame or delete what you write, because I mostly certainly want to read it. Don’t even press that delete button or I’ll slap a crop against your knuckles!

Be yourself. That’s all I ask of you. Everything else, please don’t worry. I’m not as scary as your mind makes me out to be!

TD&D

30 Days of Kink – Day #4: A Prelude to Kink

Write about any early experiences that, in retrospect, hinted at your kinks.

When I was younger I used to love to be naked. To be naked was to confront this idea that my parents taught me that being naked was inappropriate, Hell I even got grief being shirtless during the summer.

But I did, I loved being naked. And I loved being naked outdoors. It might sound strange to some but being hidden away in the countryside, trees towering over me, my feet planted in fresh mud, the air on my ass – I felt in communion with something. And the fact that it was daring and different drove me into a frenzy.

I masturbated several times hidden in my little spots, far from the view of my folk’s place. I’ve laid down in the mud and would grind my cock into the earth and come so intensely.

Later, much later, I would discover that all of this was because I was in touch with my primal self. And that blew me away.

It was a startling revelation – but it was a revelation that spanned not just across my childhood but my entire life. I was in touch with this energy I was scared of, yet fascinated by. I always felt different. I always felt like no one could connect to me, that these thoughts I had were irrational.

So through learning I was in touch with this energy, I learned that MY LIFE was this beginning of exploring kink, because it was through understanding the concepts within the dynamic that I came to understand my thoughts, pleasant or unpleasant, that I worked up the courage to be more in touch with my feelings and acknowledging them. And through all this I worked up the courage to fight the fear of those intense thoughts, fear I still have when I post on the blog and worry that today is the day my sexual deviancy lets me down.

This primal dynamic is sort of the foundation to my sexual nature and weaves in and out through my non sexual life.