Kneel For Me

How do I feel about kneeling?

I think it is a beautiful, soulful exchange. There’s something tender and touching about it, something exhilarating and erotic. About guiding her posture and looking into her eyes. About helping her to recite her mantra when she feels down or flat, so that she may be feel some semblance of how I see her.

O! If only I could create a gateway from my mind to hers, so she could see once and for all how I feel about her, as my friend and my pet and my whore and my submissive. How I’ve been wanting to write about her eyes but no world has never felt good enough to sketch in.

But it goes beyond just wanting that for her, it goes beyond wanting to lift her up. There’s a slight possessiveness, laced with a stab of guilt, at wanting to see her like no one else has. Of having – stealing – this moment in time to share together. Of feeling an insatiable, incredible desire that yearns for control and protocol and rules in a way I still don’t understand. This is a part that wrestles with other parts of me. Most times I want to earn her trust, that right to have her kneel. Most times I want to be worthy.

Sometimes I want to be greedy. I want to take. To force. To humiliate and degrade.

“Oh look at you, you poor tormented thing. Look how eager you are, how hard your nipples are. You’ve got it bad”. She’s got it bad, I think? No. I’ve got it bad. Sometimes my mind runs to sadistic tangents and fantasies. Sometimes it doesn’t care because it just wants the view of her bare ass, reflecting back at me from the full length mirror, ready to be marked red.

But there’s beauty in that sadism, beauty in the squeaks and gasps and cries and quiet “Yes, Sir.” or “Sorry, Sir. I couldn’t help myself.”

There’s beauty in these exchanges, on this day or the next.

Wouldn’t you agree?

30 Days of Kink – Day #3: How Did You Discover You Were Kinky?

How did you discover that you were kinky?

I guess I could answer this question in two parts, really – the time I discovered a semblance of kink and the time where a friendly neighbourhood submissive woman stopped me and pointed out revelations that led me to identify my true feelings.

My very first experience of Kink was with degradation, humiliation and exhibitionism. I sat on the family computer on the first floor of the home where I grew up in. I was in my teens, ‘sexting’ – I guess you could call it – my then-girlfriend via the old MSN, which some of you may recognise and others may not. Basically it was an instant messaging program before the days of good mobile phones.

I don’t know how exactly it led to degradation, I think it was waiting to come out, this inner part of me, and she connected with it. Beyond that, I was setting tasks for her before we even knew of the concepts of Kink. She’d call me up on the cordless house phone while she was on her bath, letting me listen to her masturbate with the jet spray.

Fast forward, oh I don’t know, ten years, and I’m learning about the Daddy dynamic, I’m finding I’m learning about being a Master. I’m finding all these parts of myself through conversations with other primal, with Masters, with slaves. I miss talking to a Slave mind-set. I need someone to run M/s stories by, see if a concept is effective. I normally run stories by my lady, who listens to every one of my ramblings with patience and grace, bless her heart, but the M/s dynamic isn’t something she identifies with.

Anyway. So the second part of learning who I was was about coming to terms with these splintered parts of my psyche, with the help of a few friends.