World Mental Health Day

Hi there,

How are you today? How have you been this week?

Today is World Mental Health Day and I just wanted to tell you that if you’re having a really shit time, please hang in there. You’ve got what it takes to keep going, no matter how battered and bruised and hopeless it feels. Just please – keep on going. You’re stronger than you realise.

If you’re feeling like you haven’t got anyone to talk to, please – look into talking to someone, either a professional or a friend. There is no shame in telling people how you feel – to a friend, those who matter don’t mind and to a psych, that’s why they’re in that line of job. They want to help you.

I was diagnosed with panic disorder and anxiety when I was 25. Suddenly, my weird mood swings and anxious periods across my entire existence made sense. I was suffering anxiety.

Through acknowledging what I have, by not undermining who I am as a person outside of that disorder, I have come to live a happy and mostly functional life. I still go through times where I question conversations, where I question my job as a writer and where my sexuality and dominance suffers because I freeze on the spot and disrupt a scene or sexual tension. It’s the most devastating and soul crushing thing.

But reading about it, hearing from others who struggle with it, has led me to understand what I suffer and how I can come to combat it. It has brought me awareness and education and a means to live as close to a healthy life as I can.

You’re not alone. You’re never alone.

If you EVER need an anxiety buddy, I am one message or email away. That extends to everyone.

Love and hugs to all. Take care of yourself.

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

Me, Nudity & Mental Health

The other day I saw a scene in a tv show in which a child, maybe 13 at most, sitting in the bathroom talking animatedly to his mother while she bathed and it got me thinking.

I never had that open relationship with nudity in my family. Even being shirtless in the present makes my family seem to cringe – and it’s weird to me.

Did this lead to an unhealthy view point on nudity? I don’t recall any old world biblical lessons on keeping my clothes on, but I don’t remember a whole lot of discussion about freedom on the subject either.

I felt being nude was wrong, even in the privacy of my bedroom. I felt swimming naked was wrong, running in the woods naked was wrong – but I did it anyway, was drawn to it – not because of the wrongness I feel but because I merely wanted to.

I feel a bit blah about my body now, but that’s age catching up to me. That’s my lifestyle. I still wander my home naked and I encourage my lady to as well.

What would my life or mindset be like if I was exposed to nudity, or a more liberated lifestyle by my parents?

I’d like to think that if I had children – and don’t sentences like these go down well with actual parents! – I’d be less restrictive with my children to a certain extent and age.

A recurring aspect in this community I have found is a link between low self esteem and discomfort being nude at all. Is this a case of upbringing or the things I experience as I’ve gotten older – age catching up to us?

As a Mentor, I’ve helped some grow a bit more confident in their naked bodies and for that I am glad. Focusing on the positive is a wonderful thing and can bring up about a delightful lightness.

I’ll never know the answers to any of the questions I’ve asked in this ramble. I suppose that’s another one of life’s unsolved mysteries. And that’s okay, each day I’m naked as a way to live freely and lightly and I’ll forever remind anyone struggling with their own worth to do the same.

In Which We Look At Structure For The Individual

We talk about structure for a D/s relationship and how it’s beneficial for both Dominant and submissive together – but what about structure away from each other in particular moments, maybe one partner is distracted by work, particularly anxious or just unavailable for whatever reason. Maybe the Dominant or submissive is single, and having a rough Monday / work week / month? What can be done to centre and calm the mind?

Your Mantra

When mentoring with individuals, a personal mantra is something I recommend for times when anxiety strikes or when they are feeling particularly unfocused or just a bit scattered.

Your mantra should be something personal, a positive reinforcement for yourself.

Have a think about something you’d like to remind yourself – maybe it’s ‘one day at a time’, ‘tomorrow is a new beginning’, maybe it’s your favourite song lyric. Have a think.

For those in a D/s relationship, using the mantra formed by you and your partner could act as a positive reinforcement for the times you are separated, a reminder that though you are separated now, this won’t always be the case.

Nude Meditation

Maybe it’s just me but I find something comforting and confronting and intimate about undressing and being naked – even now, even with myself. There’s a rawness I’m connected to, I find.

Do you have a favourite sound? Something that has a calming effect? For me it’s rain on a tin roof. Whenever I’m most anxious or just looking to re-wire my thoughts to a more healthy state of thinking, I turn on that wonderful sound, lie down in a favourite spot of mine and concentrate on creating my own personal sphere in which it’s raining on a beautiful Still evening.

It’s a tricky thing, to attempt meditation. It’s one thing to lie and listen to your favourite sound, it’s another to think of absolutely nothing as you do so, coming to a peaceful and relaxed stop. It takes time and patience and practice but it can be done with a little perseverance.

Keeping A Journal

Write your day down on your own personal journal. Alternatively, writing in the nude, as I’ve been known to do, can be equally comforting, but capturing your thoughts and feelings with just no one but you, the pen and the page can be a useful tool when it comes to processing thoughts and owning them, trapping them down on the page.

For some, journaling can hit a brick wall after a while. It can start to feel monotone or you might feel like you’ve run out of things to write about, especially if your life is a work grind.

If it does become a grind, think about writing about things you haven’t tried yet, things you want to try. Think about what happened in your day that was positive.

For those with partners, many of these ideas can intersect. And that’s good, you can share your experience when you come together next, it’ll be something you can talk about and share with one another.

For those who are single, these activities could be an important part of self-reflection on your own individual journey. A way to relax and unwind and to deal with unwanted stress in your daily life.

If anyone wants to share any other examples that was useful to them as an individual, I would love to hear them.

From Australia, With Love…

I’m sorry about this title. It seems a little cheesy but I felt all huggy bear all of a sudden.

This week I’ve challenged myself by trying to put something out on more of a regular basis than my usual schedule. Right now I’m not entirely sure if I’m flooding the blog or making it more entertaining, but seeing as it’s 1:54am here in the frozen winterland that is Melbourne, Australia in Winter, I wanted to kick off Friday with a little note.

Each of us are stronger than we know. We are more courageous than we know, more capable than we know, more resilient than we know.

We may sometimes think we can’t achieve that dream, that we can’t overcome that obstacle – that our life is doomed to live comfortably in some sort of strange settlement we’ve built for ourselves. But we’re wrong.

In my time writing this blog, you know what I’ve seen? Nothing but strong individuals. Men willing to combat this misconception that sensitive men are sissies, women that are braving new lives in order to achieve their dreams – humans exploring, experimenting with concepts that they thought were just dreams out of reach.

Anxiety might be kicking your butt, your life might be coasting in ways you can’t avoid just now, but with any sort of darkness there is light and ladies and gentlemen, that light will find you and cast its warmth upon you – you just have to head through the haunted woods before reaching the sun drenched fields.

Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not worth it, don’t ever think you can’t achieve your goals. Don’t think you don’t have what it takes to endure, that this is the end, because the curtain hasn’t dropped till the lights are out and lemme tell you, this isn’t the end of your story yet. You have the strength, the courage, to steer the ship, to fight back. To live, not exist.

It’s not going to be easy. Nothing is going to be handed to you on velvet pillows. You’re going to cry, you’re going to scream, but you’re going to be okay. You’re going to be right where you want to be one day.

If you’re feeling low, if you’re feeling depressed or suicidal or lost or anxious, it IS okay to email me. It IS okay to unload. There is no judgement from my behalf, not on your life or your feelings or any kinks. I just want you to know that you don’t have to be alone. You don’t have to feel alone. My email is open if things ever get too tough or hard to navigate.

Be kind to yourself, ladies and gents, and be kind to each other.

Do Not Let Anxiety Re-wire Your Mind

 

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Whether this is taken as a piece of armour to wear into the week or whether it’s taken as a word of good will in the moment, I wanted to tell you that it’s going to be okay.

I know, I know. I talk a lot about anxiety and not enough about kink – but something struck me during a recent panic attack.

If anxiety is so powerful it can alter memories and convince you of the bad, what kind of effect would that have on your future goals?

I’m guilty of avoiding places / people involved with my anxiety sometimes, because there’s a trigger effect that takes time to fade.

And after I had my attack, I wondered: What would this do to someone interested in the lifestyle, interested in rebooting their life, but when anxiety hits, they throw it all away out of fear, and in the interest of keeping things comfortable.

If I just described you, let me give you some advice: Let the fog clear. Take a mental health day, whatever comforts your mind, and let that fog clear. Because when it does, the answers to the questions you’ve been asking will most likely not be fueled by anxiety and will, in fact, be truthful.

When you’re sitting at the threshold of this new world, hand on the door that will lead you to information about yourself you’d never thought of in your wildest dreams, it’s easy to leave that door closed. Hell, I did it for most of my twenties out of pure fear.

What if I told you, leaning on a dark cane, dressed in a black suit and crimson tie, like some sort of BDSM Willy Wonka, that everything you’ve ever wondered about yourself is beyond this door.

That, at the risk of sounding melodramatic, there is a key behind there to your very existence.

I would warn you that there might be a labyrinth Beyond this door. Maybe there’s a limitless number of doors waiting to be opened for you as you progress, with little resting bays waiting in the wings for you to take break when you are feeling overwhelmed.

Enough with the psychedelic metaphors – my message is this: Don’t let anxiety drive. If it does, don’t despair about turning that car around and making up for lost time.

It may often feel that you’re taking one step forward and two steps back but — progress is progress. Even if it’s slow and doesn’t feel like it, you are still moving forward to the next door.

So: Things to take away from this read, if you’re here:

1. Don’t be dissuaded by anxiety. If Silent Hill protagonists can move through the fog, so can you.
2. Remember to take a break from absorbing information if things become overwhelming. It was for each of us, and when you’ve passed by the sensation, you can say the same to the next group of new people.
3. Try not to run from the future. Anxiety will tell you you’re a fool, but you’re not. Let the fog clear and take baby steps.
4. If you feel like you can never break free of anxiety’s funk, you’re wrong. With a little sunshine, and a tonne of patience, you will find you can lead a normal life.

THAT BEING SAID,

If you have any questions regarding this post, the lifestyle, calming techniques for anxiety or just need a mentor for a moment, please feel free to message me at darkanddominant@hotmail.com

And remember, If I can do this, so can you.

2017: My Year In Review

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For me, 2017 was very much a year of progression of me. Not just in my relationship, which grows and expands each day, but in my life – my legacy. The thing I’ll take with me to the next life.

To avoid a headache, I’ll split and reflect on what I’ve encountered in a few sub headings. Let’s do this.

Some Kind of Divine Comedy

I started this year in a transitory position. Still in a new relationship, I navigated my way through the end of my college work and back out into adulthood.

Through all this, if I was Dante, Kitten was my Virgil. My guide through it all.

When I was anxious, when I doubted myself, when I sat slumped on the couch and said I should stop writing on this blog, for what do I have left to give? — Well, Kitten was there to slap me upside my head and tell me to relax.

It helped. More than I could put into words. In this blog or TO her.

Me, Myself and I

As I juggled the end of college, I also did a wee bit of mentoring as well.
For those new to the blog and wondering what mentoring details exactly, think of it like this: A mentor is there to help someone who needs a reliant source of information. Instead of, say, a delayed response on a blog, email is there as an option, as are other social networking means. Occasionally, I’ll offer up my kik, as I’m usually there chatting to mates any way.

I reassure, I answer questions. Occasionally I give ideas that might help in areas of insecurity or discipline. Anything that will act as a positive reinforcement. And what do I get out of it? Fulfilment. The knowledge that I have helped people.

It’s been a wonderful thing, because I have seen these people move on to beautiful harmony with their own partners. And it’s nice to know that I could help, even if it’s in a minuscule way.

Beyond Mentoring, I’ve challenged myself in my writing – to think outside of the box. To change. To say something different, so I don’t get stuck in monotone gear.

The results are…a work in progress. I have a default writing mode. A default writing voice. I need to figure out how to progress.

The Master in Me

In my own down time, I’ve done some reflecting on how my own feelings have changed and morphed in the year. There’s an element of a Master to me, I have discovered. A personality trait that comes out when provoked, taking sadistic glee in the humiliation of others and in his own Slave.

I say ‘element of a Master’ because I’m a weird sort of hybrid Dominant. I have so many traits within me and the one that is usually present most of my conscious days is the Daddy Dom that nurtures Kitten.

It’s a weird balance, you see. But it’s the only way I can make sense of everything that floats around my head.

Last but not least

The relationship between my kitten and I has been ever-smooth. Ever changing for the good, revealing new personality traits that are quite the spark – especially for my stories!

And yet, through all this, I find the need to push myself. For her. For myself.

It’s easy, I think, to get in the trap of living day to day in your own mind that you forget you are leading someone, taking care of someone. And I need to beat myself up less for that, while improving my mind. To be better for myself, for her, and for how my dominant self fits into the dynamic of the world around me.

Beyond that, dear reader, I am now 30. I am no longer the ‘twenty-something’ guy that started this blog. So what does the future hold in store for me? For me in the world? For kitten and I?

I’m sure you’ll find out as soon as I do. In the meantime, you should review and reflect as well.

The Work Of Gods


‘The Mother and Father made us in their image. We should glory in our bodies, for they are the work of Gods.”

– A Dance With Dragons, Tyrion IV

Apart from being rich in imagination and vast in entertainment and scope, fantasy – or should we say George R. R. Martin – has some wealth of information you can seek out.

Not that you probably need reminding in this here blog – I like to promote self-love in all its manifestations like it was religious. Boil it down to a dogged mind and a persistence in disciplining the mind – and hopefully that of the mind of you, Dear reader. 

Regardless, Martin said it better than me.

‘We should glory in our bodies, for they are the work of Gods’. It’s a powerful sentence, isn’t it?

The work of Gods. 

The scene from the novel describes a Septa – clergy women in the world of the novel who are ‘sworn to celibacy, sometimes serving noble houses as governesses and tutors to the daughters of lords, teaching them in matters of etiquette and history and activities such as sewing…’ (Taken from the Game of Thrones wiki page) – as she uncharacteristically undressed in front of someone for her morning bath and ritual. It’s not a gratuitous scene, it’s not sensationalised, she’s merely bathing. In fact, the scene says more about her as a character and what that will mean in later chapters than anything. 

But back on track…

Sure, we can look down at our bodies and think to ourselves ‘Ha! Cruel Gods, maybe’. But the Gods (or THE God, depending on the individual) surely can only bring us so far. The rest of the way, we have to find ourselves.

For me, the sentence opened my mind. It was a revelation. We are the work of Gods. I like that. The next time I look at the palms of my hand in a quiet evening – or the next time I consider myself lucky to gaze upon my kitten’s freckles in sacred spots no other man will ever witness (For I’ll tear out his throat and shower in his blood), I’ll think on the sentence. The work of Gods. 

We need to think less negative and think more positive. Re-wire our brains to see what’s a value, rather than an exaggerated defect. Love yourself the next time you’re disrobing in front of a mirror. Love yourself the next time you spot a stretch mark, or a freckle. Love yourself even in times of thinking your cock is too small, too big, breasts too lopsided or triangular (unfortunately, in my times of sisters and ex-girlfriends, these words I have heard uttered).

Don’t like your body? Bothered by your pubic hair? (Don’t snicker, it’s a thing) Find a way to improve yourself – so that in your eyes you are Happy and centred. 

For everything else, it’s always a work in progress! 

Sand


One minute, she was enjoying the feel of the sun on her body, the smell of the ocean around her and the warm sand beneath her feet.

When it happened, it happened all too fast for her to process. For, in a flash, she was pinned to the earth, her mouth full of grit and sand.

Her sides was gripped firmly, both left and right burning where the stranger’s hands clasped her flesh. 

It was then she tried to yell out, but the sand in her mouth forced her to gag. She coughed and sputtered as she felt hands tug aggressively at her bikini bottoms.
A second passed — then her bottoms fell away, exposing her bare body to the cool Spring breeze. 

She fidgeted, even squealed, but it was no matter – she hung suspended in the air, her ass pointing up, her hair flung over her eyes. 

She squealed again when she heard it, a smooth and relaxed voice in her ear, breath smelling of sea salt.

“How delightful and grand! To unwrap your gifts covered in sand”

‘Sand’ slithered out across the lips of the stranger and down her body, like finger tips trailing down piano keys.

The hands were back, tugging at the sheer black material that covered her breasts. A second passed — and they were free. Left to hang in the air.

To her horror, they tickled at the sheer touch of the breeze. She felt her nipples harden. And pushed back into the force of the stranger.

His weight was against her, seemingly all around.

“Good enough to eat, this sweet sticky treat” came the voice again, sprouting words that travelled down her spine.

A finger caressed her slit, touching what she had left unshaven. The thought embarrassed her strangely. She was not expecting company, had let herself grow out.
She disappeared into her anxious dream while fingers spread her lips and found her clit.

They worked her then and there and she was helpless, held still by the stranger. 

Her body betrayed her, and she slipped back into a dream…
There was a time, not so long ago. That she sat by the window of her bedroom, the window that looked out upon the beach from her parents beach home. 

And she wondered, so strongly, to the point that when she awoke from these dreams, she felt like she had been gone an age.

When her parents were working and Georgina had come home from attending her final year of school, she used to undress and sit about the house. Sometimes she’d read, other times she’d play guitar. Sometimes she’d sit by the window in her bedroom and masturbate, thinking of how one might pass by on the beach outside and see her Cunt. What if she stepped outside, what if they kidnapped her and took hold of her? 

What if she stepped outside, they kidnapped her and took hold of her and violated every inch of her cunt?

Georgina used to sit and wonder and come, allowing herself to be loudly. On the hopes someone heard.
Georgina thought all this and more as she was bent in the air, her tits exposed and covered in sand, her slit being massaged ever so delicately. 
Horror pulsated through her bones and yet it was followed by the afterthought of a tingle. Her daydream was back, coming true, was assaulting her with its strong scent of sea salt.

A hand, rough and strong, lifted her up high that her eyes were blinded by the sunset. And after a moments pause, it wiped her tits clean, revealing them for how they truly are.
“We come from far beyond the sea, a place where you should be”

His hands twisted her nipples and she coughed out a groan, her mouth still tasting of sand and seaweed. 

By the hair, the stranger dragged her out to where the ocean waves die down.
“What are you doing?” Barked Georgina, able to take the time to talk while the sand is far from her mouth. 

“Hold still, you little sight obscene, it is our duty to make you clean”

Georgina’s world went murky as she was submerged under. She could taste the water, it burned her mouth. She choked.

Then she came up for air, her ass still in the air, her body bring cradled by the stranger. 

In front of her, she could see the waves.

They crashed into her face. Again. And again, an onslaught of tangy waves. 

When she came above the waves, she realised the stranger’s palm was massaging her cunt, stretching her lips apart while its finger flicked her clit. 

“It is we who haunts, it is you who wants. It is we who fill, it is you who wills”

“What are you talking about?” Cried Georgina.

And when she was fifteen, she sat on the beach, her parents attending to the party up above. 
The hour was two in the morning, early. And the beach was abandoned. 

When Georgina was younger, she remembers sitting around the dinner table and hearing her aunt Emily talk about a time she had sex on the beach with an old flame, how the sand rode up her ass and stung her. 

Remembering this, Georgina pulled her panties down her dress and laid on her back. 

There was something erotic about the feel of the sand beneath her. And later, there was something about the stinging, the rawness of her skin, that drove her to wildly masturbate through the pain.

Georgina was bent down on all fours, her ass facing the onslaught of waves. They crashed around her, over her, stinging her ass and breaching her anus. 
At the very touch of this, her cunt contracted, and she wailed. 

The stranger held her by the hair, it’s clammy hands stroking her back.

“As you have dared, now you’re prepared” The voice seemed to echo all around her, reverberating within her head. 

When she felt something cool and thick slide inside her, she let out a Yowl that reminded her, in that moment, of her old distressed cat, that used to claw at the door when she wanted to go out. What had she become? 
The cool and thick thing filled her, stretching her cunt apart in ways she has never felt with any past lover.

Georgina stayed on all fours, looking, with her soaked and freezing face, up at her parents beach house where she was visiting for the weekend.
She went to speak but all that came out was a whimper. 

The cool and thick thing seemed to bring with it the cool, it slid up her body, enveloping her in the cool ocean water.

“Dad…” She croaked. “Mum..”

With the burning sensation of sand, Georgina felt the cool and thick thing reach its fill, coming to slap against her ass. She choked, feeling dizzy, feeling something build, feeling sick and horny and repulsed at the same time somehow. 

Her legs gave away and she collapsed into the ground, tearing her cunt free from whatever was inside her, wriggling and moving. 
Sand tore up around her thighs, covered her breasts again, as she panted laying on her stomach. 

When the voice spoke again, she felt it’s warm breath against her ass.
“There is nothing to fear, we have always been here”

The stranger lowered its mouth down upon her anus and Georgina kicked wildly, screaming. Nothing has probed her there, nothing bothered, no man or woman. 

Georgina never bothered to ask and here she was, paralysed by the slither of the stranger’s tongue. It circled around her edges, and hands forcefully spread her apart so the tongue could have a better taste. 

Georgina’s legs seemed to jerk up in response, locking into a pose. She croaked for her mother but nothing came out but a squeak.
It hit her as the waves came crashing over her, her orgasm came ripping out of her, forcing her to cry out in short guttural bursts, one after the other. She jolted once more, crying as her body was contorted past her level of comfort, as her orgasm subsided, dragging her into the ground. 

Georgina, in a daze, face planted into the ground, her body left to twitch to the stranger’s wet cold kiss. 

A moment passed.
Then another.
The waves came crashing over her, up under her cunt, which begged Georgina to touch.
Georgina rolled on her back and started to sob. 

When she heard the voice again, it was all around her. And as it spoke, it disappeared into the crashing of the waves. 

“There is nothing to fear, we will always be near. ”

Georgina sobbed as she sat inches before the surf, rubbing her unshaven mound furiously. She needed to come again. She had to. She couldn’t stop her hands, couldn’t keep them away from her nipples and clit. 

Sand stung her lips and brought her over the edge. 

I like the feel of my cock

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How’s that for a headline?!

I certainly hoped it grabbed your eye.

But what I wanted to discuss was this: Have you ever just stood naked while in between getting changed and really appreciated yourself?

I feel we all need to do that at some point in the day, even week if you are uncomfortable with self-love, which you shouldn’t be.

Anyway, after a steamy conversation with my kitty, I was just adjusting my pants because she has the uncanny ability to give me an instant erection. I am not kidding.
So, in adjusting myself, you know what I thought?

I like my cock. Like, really. This isn’t me bragging or being narcissistic, this is me thinking good about myself in a specific department.

I may not be blessed with much but I think my cock does the job. It’s smooth, thick and just the right length. And it feels good around my hand. I’m talking, it feels like a good handful.

So here’s what’s what: You’re going to find a quiet time to look at yourself or to think about your body and you are going to praise an aspect, whatever you like. That’s your weekly homework, okay? Good. I demand reports on my desk by the evening 😉

 

But seriously, be kind to yourself. Love yourself! Have a beautiful day!