Thoughts to keep warm during Winter



When I tell her to bend across the pool table, I wonder what her mind is running to.
When I tease her slit with the pool cue, gliding in circles, I wonder if she is hesitant or welcoming.

And when I ease it into her, as it disappears inside her, will she buckle, will she tremble, will she tell me it’s too much or will she try and prove to me, rot herself, to the gods, that she is worthy, that she is the one. That I am the one for her.

O, will she slide back into it, to feel it stretch her, to feel ‘full’?
Or will she attempt to crawl away, as it is too much.
Which version do I want, obedience or struggle? Both harden my cock.

What will come out of those slick wet lips?
A guttural moan?
A grunt, in the most beautiful, animalistic, dare I think un-lady-like way?
Or will she sob? And if so, will that sobbing enchant me or dispel me?

How will her hair fall? Over her eyes? Over her mouth?
Will her hair stick to her wet luscious lips?

And will she come? Will she come again? Will she take the cue for me until I tell her no more, until she is so full it aches. Maybe it bleeds.

Such thoughts run through my mind. And warms my heart.



In which I discuss Sensitivity, Masculinity and Dominance



Growing up, I’ve always felt out of place as a male.

I wasn’t really into sports (though that came later in my adult life), I mostly kept the company of women and I never seemed to inherit my dad’s love for cars, talent for building and maintaining things and so forth.

The company of women thing I can boil down to the fact that I was mostly raised by my mother and was surrounded by sisters. I had male friends throughout growing up, so much so that I was labelled ‘gay’ by a few. But it seems when I hit a certain age, women started to notice me. Suddenly I had a girlfriend. Suddenly that girlfriend liked being called a whore and suddenly I enjoyed watching her slip a pool cue into herself over webcam just a floor away from her family.

Cutting back to before all this, I used to think I was…a little off. Not effeminate, mind you. Because I obsessed over video games, Terminator 2 and frequently fantasised about female teachers. Ahem.

But I was emotional. I mean, I was EMOTIONAL. I remember breaking up with my first girlfriend and balling my eyes out and wandering into the dangerous territory of self harm.

And the thing is, the older I got – and yes, we are fast forwarding through my life – I realised that I was in touch with my emotions a lot more than my own father. Or at least, I was willing to go to places that his upbringing didn’t allow him to. Men that come from his time are hard man. You fell over, you got back up. You had a panic attack? Fuck it, you got back up. There wasn’t this contemplation that the panic attack renders you immobile and it’s a struggle to get out of bed and eat. It was: you got back up.

The reason why I’m writing all this is because I’m writing to the Dominant males. Some of you, heck, how many of you lurk in the shadows? How many of you had or HAVE no idea what you’re doing? Guys, I was right there. And this was before the internet, where friends would look weird at you and parents wouldn’t dare speak of such things. I too had to find my own way. And it took YEARS before I accepted that this beast isn’t just a part of me…it IS me. And I need to find that balance.

This might be a looooooong shot but how many guys have read my blog and felt you and I have a similar mindset? You’re not alone. You don’t have to BE ALONE. I mean, this is part and partial why I created this blog, so others didn’t have to feel alone, that they might see someone else soldiering on and feel, hopefully, a little bit cheerier about it. A little easy on their own mind.

So, please. Be kind to yourselves. Beating yourself up gets you no where. There are books, there are forums, there are places – safe environments where it’s okay to be who you are. I learned this the hard way. It took me a long time to feel that who I am and the way I was built was okay. And I’m writing this to maybe save someone else. To show that it’s okay to be different. That what you’re feeling is perfectly normal. There was never anything wrong all along.

If you need anything, just write in. The portal to my world is always open.

Keep the youthful mindset in your BDSM world


When I was younger and over at my girlfriend’s for dinner, I was a terror.
While her family would be gathered around the lounge room talking about God knows what, I was downstairs in their basement, leaning my girl over the pool table, with my hand up her frilly white short skirt stuffing the pool cue into her cunt.
Yes, I was a thin floorboard away from the family. Her father and her mother were sitting around discussing their day while their sweet little daughter was downstairs greedily taking the thick pool cue into her sweet little cunt.
When we were done, when I had made her come hard a few times on that pool table, I left the pool cue where it was, knowing the next person would find it slick with her juices. What did I know? I was young and care free and wild.

Nothing’s changed. I am still get a sadistic glee in me. I’m 27, I have my pet sprawled across the lounge in our apartment. We were watching something on TV but one caress led to another and I had my mouth over her sweet pussy as my tongue flicked over her clit and explored every crevice. The blinds were open for all to see and enjoy the show — and I made sure she would be a good girl and let out her soft and sweet coos.

Another moment, I had a plane to catch. I should’ve left, maybe five minutes ago, but despite my pet’s pleas and her struggles to retain her vanilla side in order to catch the plane on time, she gave in to her animal. Allowing my knee to hold her down while I came on her tits.

I guess what I am trying to see, despite taking detours down Dominant Lane, is that we should never forget who we were because that kid – that crazy idiotic kid is still a part of us and my guess is that it still comes out in us all. I’ve seen people grow old and bitter. Not me, friends. I am going into my fifties still sneaking my wandering hands down my pet’s top. I am going to pull her aside at parties and sneak her into the alleyway to taste what is fucking rightfully mine and she will give it to me or I will fucking take it anyhow because her body is mine and I will not be fucking denied.  She is mine.Fucking mine. Ahem. Excuse me, I got a surge just then. My beast is coming out so I’ll have to cut this short.

Don’t give up the young you deep within because that is what helps keep us alive. It is what stokes the fire.