First 30 minutes – Sorry

First 30 minutes – I make the decisions in this home.  I am the Master.  Most “normal” people would think of Izrina as my girl.   But we are not “normal”, Izrina is my slave.  When she needs a decision from me, she knows this.. NEVER hit me in the first 30 minutes, AFTER I get out of work.

When I get home from work, I need time to de-stress.. to adjust from the high-pressure, pop, pop, pop – demands for my time, that come at me staccato style.  The first 30 minutes after I walk in the door is a terrible time to demand a decision.  First, I don’t take well to demands, and second, after living with that kind of pressure all day,  I am going to be less generous than if I have a few minutes to relax.  Not that I would make a bad decision.. but I would definitely be unhappy.  I am clear about the need to have this time.   Break my rule and that unhappiness is going to result in a less generous response.

I also do this for Izrina… when she gets in from work, I generally have a hot tub waiting for her.  I give her time to get the straw out of her hair, wash out the smell of horses, and to give her time to start feeling sexy.  I feel she needs time to adjust from employee to slave.  Its the other side of the 30 minute rule.   I feel she needs this adjustment time too..

In fact, as a general principle, I think its good advice for any couple, Ds or nilla.  Nilla, or vanilla is what we call “normal” people.  In many ways though we are not so different and I think in this 30 minute rule, it makes sense for everyone.

A house should be a home.. and a home should be a shelter from the storm of life.. A home should be a castle where you feel safe and secure..and you share your love for each other by nurturing each other.  To the degree that it can be, a home should be where you go to get away from stress.

Sorry – I once said to a person of considerable power and authority, “Sorry” and they said, “What do you have to be sorry for?”.   I think about that life lesson often and it comes back to me again as I think about the “First 30 minutes” rule, particularly today.

Izrina took off the day.  I took off the day.  We planned to have a wonderful day together.  Then work arose that wouldn’t let me have the day off.  I was in early.. I worked all day, ten straight hours.. no breaks.  People pulling at me the whole time.  I didn’t get a chance to even message Izrina.  As I was working, I became more angry at this situation.  I imagined her there, at home, wondering what was going on, and feeling something….I don’t know.. what?…. anger?  sadness?  something!

So when I DID finally get home, I was a caldron of emotions.. anger mostly at work for interfering with this plan.  But sorry… but then… what did I have to be sorry for?  This was beyond my control.. So what should I feel?… I puzzled and  puzzled, until my puzzler was sore..

The thing about being sorry is, that it softens another person’s anger.  It is also a submissive posture.. it says.. go ahead and give me your anger.. I deserve it.  Grrrr.. not my thing.. I rarely feel like I deserve anger and I NEVER like assuming a submissive posture.   So should I be sorry if Izrina was angry too?   No.. I had nothing to apologize for..  But still.. there it is.. you want to soften your partner’s anger.. if it exists… so what then.. how to roll with what greets you at the door. I didn’t know what would greet me.. there had been no time to talk.

All of this was going through my head.  I was in the mood for comfort food.  I decided to get a pizza.   To get the pizza I needed to hit the ATM.. then other delays happened.. adding to my frustration and anger…I seemed like at each stop, there was some idiot ahead of me.  At the ATM, the lady ahead of me failed to pull close enough, she stuck her whole  body out of the car rather than open the door, and then seemed to have never seen an ATM before…she took ten minutes..seriously.. ten minutes.  I stopped for Bacardi..similar story.   The guy who cut in front of me at the parlor who had a long chat with the owner, the car was standing, running at the curb the whole time.  I kept looking at the car, then him, then the car…mind you, I’ve been through this twice already on the way home… My patience was nearly gone.  Three stops.. what should have been 20 minutes total, took me 40 minutes.

If I was pissed when I left, I was double pissed by the time I got home.  She greeted me at the door.  I told her straight up.. I need my time to de-stress,  or maybe I growled it.. I was in a pretty foul mood by the time I got home.   A hot tub was waiting, a stiff drink was served, and in a very short time, I was relaxed.  In remarkably quick time, actually.. maybe ten minutes.  I found myself ready, anxious even, for dinner and talk.  That and a little guilty, perhaps. When someone is sweet to you, its really hard to hold onto feelings of anger.  I called her to my side.. “I have been waiting all day to be with you”, I said, “and I wanted my first words to be good, and positive, and loving.. I didn’t want you to be blasted with the negativity I walked in with…”

She served the slices, already topped with extra garlic and other goodies I normally sprinkle on.. in high protocol fashion.  She wore something red, silky, and sexy.  We settled in to watch another show from a DVD series, as we usually do at dinner time.  I like 30 minute shows during dinner, its a fun routine.  Obscure shows you haven’t seen in decades are the best.  We usually finish dinner before the DVD and she clears away the plates.  She curls up next to me until the show ends.. and then we talk.  Such is our routine..

We talked some time later.  She has become accustom to not hearing from me when work is hectic.  She figured I was trapped at work again.. knew there was nothing that could be done about it, and made the best of the day she could.   What a reasonable response from a very good girl.   I got my 30 minutes, we had a nice dinner, we talked. In spite of our day being spoiled, the evening was nice.

When you tie yourself to someone like me, with the kind of work I do, you have to become accustom to the fact that sometimes work takes priority over all else.  There are many professions like this, and its not always an easy life..  partners who accommodate such a relation are a blessing.

As she lay in my arms, and we settled down for the night, I said…“I teach that happiness is about NOT focusing on the future or how your plans went, and its about NOT focusing on the past and how bad it was or how much better it was.  The key to happiness is about focusing on NOW and how good THIS moment is, or could be.   Then, as I held her I said.. “this is a pretty wonderful moment”.  She snuggled closer, in silent agreement.  What we have might not be for everyone, but it works really well for us.

If you share a house with someone, make it a home.  Make it a place of refuge from the storms of life.  Carpe Diem my friends.. go be someone’s great day.

Mothers Day and more…

Its Mothers day and that means that many of my moments centered around this holiday, but I am also a Master down deep inside and that means that no matter what happens, somehow it leads to a BDSM related thought…  Now those two subjects.. Mothers day and BDSM shouldn’t go together.. but I am nothing if not inappropriate.


The thing – Every mothers day, Mom volunteers her morning to a local mothers day fund raiser breakfast.  I usually show up with cards and flowers in front of her friends.. you know… so they can all see what a great son she raised.  I like to do nice things for mom.

The thought –  I am thinking.. its OK to show appreciation, but I don’t want to be one of those boys who still has a “Mommy”.    I wonder:   Have I taken her lessons to heart, but applied them in my own way with strength of thought and self determination?  In other words, In showing my affection, have I in any way compromised control of my life?    I think I have a good and healthy balance on this one.  In other words.. I could take some ribbing on it, since I know none of it would be true.  Its ribbing that hits close to the mark we don’t feel comfortable with.

The thing – This time I decided to do something different.. take her to a movie, something she would never have gone to on her own.. A 3D movie.  Before I bought the tickets, I checked when Izrina would be out of work.  She asked why I was buying three tickets… I explained..  When we arrived, Mom worried that the glasses would give her a headache.  She worried that the glasses were expensive.. until I showed her where to recycle them.  Like me,  she often has strong opinions.

The thought – I had to juggle things a bit, to get  a movie in a time that Izrina free and Mom could do.  It involved Mom driving at night.  She’s nearly 80.  I don’t like her driving at night.  Now its me that has to let go of control.  I want to make decisions for her, that protect her, but at the same time, question my right to do so.  Its has the same odd sense of self examination that comes up frequently in my control of my slave.. how very odd to associate those two, I thought.

The thing – We had assigned seats.  You get to pick your seats.  I had bought three together, third row, near the center.  Close enough to get the big screen effect, far enough back that you aren’t swinging you head back and forth to see everything.  Izrina took the first seat she came to.  I moved her,  twice, and I moved mom.  Everyone was dancing around, trying to keep me happy.

The thought – Ok, I am a control freak, no doubt.  First Izrina has to be on my right.  That’s a protocol.  She took the farthest left seat of the three.  If I switched with her, she would be on my right, and mom would be two seats away from me.  Not good enough.  I needed Mom on the left and Izrina on the right.  I wanted the middle.. the driver seat so to speak.  Here we are out relaxing, and I still need to control things. No one was upset or understood, but in my mind, there was a logic and a protocol to the directions I was giving.  I simply would not have been happy if I ignored what I wanted. and just went with the flow.  Not when, with just a little nudge, I could have it the way I wanted it.  Sigh.. I am what I am…

The thing – I went to breakfast the next day anyway.  Mom commented on what a nice evening she had.  Conversation turned to this that and the other.. I mentioned.. You know, its odd but in many ways, my relationship with Izrina is much like a 50’s housewife.  I then said:  Don’t you think it odd that to what was a typical relation half a century ago is now considered kinky?

The thought – This epiphany comes from mom..  She replied. people don’t think its kinky.. they think its abusive.  Woof.. Take the wind out of my sails why don’t you?  Abusive?  Hmmm, yes some persons might see it that way.  Interesting.  Kink might be the less offensive label.  The thing is, this no longer has to be gender based.  We can choose to consent to these choices.. male or female.  And yet, yes, some may still accuse loving couples of coercion, of abuse, of Domination without real consent.

The thing – We talked of children and such.  The question of transitioning from teen to adult came up.  Of college and the military.  I was glad when Vietnam ended just before I turned 18.  I was raised to follow orders.  At eighteen I had not learned yet to exert control over anyone else.  Adults were still those people that gave orders.  Had I gone to Vietnam, I would have almost certainly been a very good taker of orders.. which probably would have gotten me killed.

The thought – I WAS brought up to follow orders. Old school training of Masters required that to be a Dominant, you first had to train as a slave.  The idea is that you must know what a bottom knows and feels before you can top.  I never liked the idea of being anyone’s slave, not even a sub… but here is my epiphany.. my childhood WAS my slave experience. 

We had a very top down, my way or the highway household.  There were many things we were not permitted, or that we had to do for ourselves. My parents had no problem with orders, responsibilities and punishment.  I won’t go into great detail here, but my parents were much more strict than the other kids parents.  I took a belt a few times.  I even did the “cut your own switch” thing.. damn if that ain’t a scary thing.    In retrospect, perhaps I DID do my time as a bottom after all.   Interesting thought that….


Mothers day was wonderful, even if my mind does constantly go back to BDSM.  This isn’t a kink, it isn’t a lifestyle.  It is my orientation.  Everything seems to come back to questions of choices, of control, and these are a constant touch point to the very core of my being.

I would like to end with a word picture of a very happy elderly woman.  She ambled off to the baked goods table.  It is painful watching her walk.  So many parts are going, but she refuses to let it change her.  She sat and an elderly man struck up a conversation.  I decided I needed one more hug before I left.  I waited patiently for him to finish his questions, and maybe buy something.  She looked up at him smiling.. He down at her and he came around to the side of the table.. I think he was telling jokes now.. she was laughing.. and quite unaware I was waiting patiently for one last hug.  I watched them, these two..  both probably in their late 70’s, enjoying each others company.  I slipped out.  I’ll get that hug another time, God willing.  You never know how many days left you will have, but while you have days that are yours to live, laughing and joking with a warm soul is a pretty good way to use your time.

Carpe Diem my friends..  Go be someones great day..  especially if you know them, and they happen to be a mother.

A collar and fire

So, the time has come to write of this weekend.  What can I say?  I walked in knowing I am a Master, I walked out a feeling like the Master I knew myself to be.  It was a glorious evening in every way.  It was a night for Raven and the Fairy Queen… but as is my way, it was also about me.

We were to start at 7pm, but some folks were running late.  No matter, eventually the ceremony started.  Raven was wore a lovely thing that had a hood.  I remember, red and white.  Her garment had a hood which we drew over her head, just above the eyes.  I walked her to the alter, drew back her hood, kissed her on the forehead, and presented her to be taken and owned.  Such was my role, as father of the bride.

I then took a seat near the front.  They did a version of the ceremony of roses.  I won’t go into the details.. it involves fire and water, a red rose and a white, and a chain.  Each draws blood from the rose thorns, and if you have been to one of these, drawing blood from a finger with a rose thorn is always less dramatic than you would think… it always takes a few tries..but more often, many, many tries.  Fingers never bleed when you want them to.  If you want to know more about the ceremony,  I have details on my DSG group.

The vows were very intimate and passionate and Sno began to sniffle.  It was very beautiful.  The new owner declared herself the fairy Queen and took Raven as her knight.  What followed was congratulations and then food and milling about.

Then the play began.  I claimed the fire station, and did a scene with one of Raven’s friend from Connecticut.   A lovely young lady.. I had her strip and then warmed her up with some fire to her back, then flipped her over, and worked her breasts, thighs and nipples. I placed an ankle up on my shoulder and worked her inner thigh and down in to the good stuff until she was squirming quite nicely.  She began to go under.  Her eyes closed but moved rapidly beneath her lids like in REM sleep.  Raven came over and we worked her energy, commanding her to cum.  She collapse very nicely with the most pleasant of sounds.  I carried her to a couch and put her into the arms of the man she had arrived with.  This was his first dungeon visit.  We had talked earlier, while feasting.  Conversations about what we do, why we do it, and about his life and his adventures of late. She lay happy and content in his arms and as I stroked her hair,  I said, THIS, is why we come to a dungeon. She was down for quite some time, and he gave her all the attention and aftercare needed.

Next I helped Raven out of her corset, her beautiful ass sticking out at me and I couldn’t resist but to bend her over and take just a few less than gentle bites on those lovely mounds before putting her on my table. Before i started though, I commanded her to kneel before me in worship, then rise to remove my shirt and put on my leather vest, so that I could be properly dressed for this scene.  Finger nails across her back, then fire, gentle at first.  I flipped her and began to work nipples.  Then down to her thighs.  I rocked the fire back forth in her thighs and she squirmed under the heat.  I worked up close to her most private parts and down again.  She too was done nicely. I covered her in a blanket and lay beside her, stroking her as she rode the waves of subspace. When she was conscious enough to move,  I carried her to the Fairy Queen for aftercare.

A young lady, who had just started to take estrogen, agreed to give my fire a try.  Long thin arms and legs, not yet filled with women’s curves,  her breasts just starting to grow under new chemicals, I applied fire gingerly to her nipples.  When a person first starts the change, the nipples can be very, very sensitive, so I was careful to not over do it.  Then up into the thighs, I placed my hand over her package, to protect her from the fire, and she moaned with pleasure from the pain, the contact, the control I was pushing.  She talked, nervous talk.  I knew I didn’t have her mind yet, so I had her close her eyes, talked her through breathing exercises until she relaxed into a lovely state of euphoria.  At last, she too went down into that lovely state.  Raven helped we with her aftercare.. I carried her to the couch and into Raven’s arms.  Later, she would speak in gushing terms of how much she loved that scene.

An older couple a man and woman.. possibly fifty or sixty.. watched with interest as I created one scene after another.. the sexual tension, the pain, and the obvious pleasure was plain to see.  They watched in fascination, one scene after another.  There is a thing that new Sadists do.. they scene for the crowd, they look to see who is looking.  I do not. But you cannot have your eyes open and not see who is near, who is watching, who is fascinated by the things you do.

Sno approached at some distance and signaled with the protocol we teach slaves to use when they wish to be acknowledged.. when they wish to speak with a Dominant.  I was puzzled at first,. but then I realized she want to speak.  I never had a Dominant signal that to me before.  I had to adjust my thinking for a second.  She didn’t wish to interrupt my scenes and she knew I knew what that meant.  I motioned her over and she mentioned that the woman on the couch would like to “experience me”.  I agreed.

Sno is a woman of incredible power and grace.  Her use of the slave protocol was out of respect for the scene, nothing more.  Still, when a slave uses protocol like this it is a rush.. so the feeling I had was a mix that was confusing.. briefly.  Here is a woman who carries her power with style.  More Dominants should show such confidence and grace.  Respect shown is not about the one you give it to, it speaks of your own culture and refinement.  A person of quality, shows respect to all, at least until respect is lost.

The older woman took of all of her clothes so quickly, I was surprised.  I was expecting a shy Grandma kind of thing. She had a nice body.  Perhaps not through the eyes of an eighteen year old, but I am no spring chicken either.  Nice curves, skin still somewhat elastic, full breasts that didn’t sag.  Very nice, I thought.   I asked if she had ever tried fire before and she said no.  So I had her sit beside me and explained why she would not be burned.

You see, I said, only the vapor burns.  So there is always a thin layer of liquid between the flame and you.  It is why burning hair in this way always leaves stubble.  You can’t burn hair down to smooth, because the flame never actually gets to your skin.  I then set myself on fire to demonstrate.  Next, I told her, I will set my hand on fire, then put it against you to put it out.. so that you can feel very briefly what I feel.

I slapped a generous amount of burning fuel onto my hand and then pressed it against her arm, putting it out..  See?  I said.. its only warm.  No pain.   Having disarmed her initial fear, we got down to the scene.

I helped her onto my table, and ran my nails down her back.  I started a passing of the fire wand just off her skin, down her back, and legs.  A few times she said.. “too hot”  but generally we were good.   I quickly learned which parts were too sensitive, and which were good.  She started to go into subspace, and I called over the man…. maybe her husband? and we touched her third eye together…. and she slipped into a lovely silence.

Later, someone told me that my name had preceded me… that others had spoken of me in glowing terms.   That’s always nice to hear. The house fire guy is “Shadow Biker”.  He had waited patiently to do a few fire scenes with some people too,  I gave up the table.  The man is a saint.  I deeply appreciated his patience, while I took on so many scenes.

I must always throw my floggers..its a thing, and so I got them out to limber up, doing some Florentine and flourishes against the padded support beam in the center of the room. I love the feel of throwing two floggers at once, even if I don’t have someone under me.  Conversations were struck up.  I did a quick demo of violet, and showed off a few of my toys.

I made promise to come to Connecticut and do a Tantra Meditation workshop.  I will try to plan it over a weekend, and see if Raven and Queen can put me up.  That would be a nice adventure..  Hmmm life is always good when you make it an adventure.

As I was leaving, I struck up a conversation outside.  A young lady had developed multiple sclerosis but had come out anyway to be with her kind.  I didn’t know, thought it was hard to miss she stood with a cane.  I asked how she was and she said.. well, I’m alive and that is good.  Then talked of being diagnosed, and what it had done to her.  We talked of life, her challenges, and philosophy.  We talked of our spiritual beliefs and what purpose this development in her life could possibly mean.  I didn’t shy away from any subject.  She knew that this is a degenerative disease and hard times were ahead.  What can you say to such things?  You listen, you speak honestly, you offer no false hope, but you do speak of the good in life, of the ways that life is still good.

I left sober, but high.  High on the thrills, the depth, the incredible plethora of human experiences I had tasted this evening.  Sno sat beside me silently at one point as we watched people and she said.. What a wonderful family we have.  Yes, yes we do.

My friends, if BDSM is your kink, be among your own kind.  It is a cleansing experience.  It awakens the sense that your world is not wrong, it is so very right.  These are good, intelligent, beautiful, carefree people who are bold enough to ignore everything they have been told, to be themselves.  These are noble creatures living sacred roles that they themselves are stunned by every day.   Be among your own kind.  Be with those who get and love you.  To say it is uplifting is to finger paint on mud.. it is so much more than uplifting, it is the awaking and freedom of your very self.  Carpe Diem my friends.. be yourself today!

Broken promises, cock fighting

I know I promised the next blog to be a glowing report of the joys of this past weekend.  I must disappoint.  Next blog perhaps.  Things happen.

It was a grueling day.  Ten straight hours.  Breakfast by my slave was grand, as was the worship at return, but days end, I needed the everyday rituals of our normal routine… and to detox further, I had a double Bacardi, followed by another.  Izrina must rise at 4:30 am but I have determined to follow my de-stressing routine farther.  LOL.. detox with alcohol.. I amuse myself.

At one point in my life, an editor I knew kept a bottle of liqueur in his desk drawer.  Those of you who diet will understand… you know how when you drink, suddenly your will power to NOT diet is gone?  The same is for any of your iron will.  A little snort does wonders for loosening the tongue.  And since I’ve had a fair amount, I thought it an interesting experiment to see what comes out if I spoke of things on my mind.  I will judge tomorrow.

First, Izrina said the last blog rambled.. she said it seemed to be missing connections between thoughts.. hmm interesting.. I will re-read it later.  She is sleeping as I type.  I feel a rush to finish this.

Now, an interesting flood of emotions passed me as I visited my favorite dungeon.  It had been some time since I last visited.  A fair number of newer Dominants have stepped up and they fill the role of house members very nicely.. except that there is this thing.. They are judging you and you are judging them.. Oh maybe no one acknowledges it on a surface level.. maybe not even to yourself… but its there…some can not wonder why does this one command more respect than the other?

Its interesting.. a cock fight if you will.. or maybe a pussy fight…  The battle of egos is ancient and as old as the game we all fall into when we desire power.  It is unavoidable, the judging of your place, and what might change it.

Hmmmm at one point in a fire scene, Sno, who is as lovable and as stern a female Dominant as you might ever hope to meet, silently gave the protocol signal for permission to speak with me.   I was confused at first.  I had never seem someone of her power and grace signal to me in this way.   She only wanted permission to ask if I would allow a slave to “experience me”.  It was a moment.

What an odd rush and temper of my emotions.  I took no sense of superiority, but the wisdom and honor with which she approaches her Mastery humbles me.  Later, we sat together saying nothing.. and then she said.. what a wonderful family we have.  Those simple words were as powerful as the time she cried at the collaring ceremony.

Nor were any of the other Dominants there less hospitable.   I suspect that any ruffling of feathers were all of my own doing, the preparation for a fight that never happened.  But it is there even if it doesn’t happen… the posturing the occurs in ourselves and others as we prepare to defend our equality.   You see it everywhere.. the desire to posture to defend your right to meet strangers or friends on equal ground.

That moment, those brief words are a special moment I will wrap in gold and keep like so many others for as long as this physical form will allow.  There were so many other grand moments, but here is the point my friends.. often we get back from others, that which we prepared for.  Enter into each encounter as a blank sheet.   Let others determine the outcome of their encounter with you.  Be as a mirror, clinging to nothing, and when they pass from your presence, do not look forward or back.  Be only the moment reflected… this is best… Not bad words for an old, drunk, Master, eh?  I am weary and a slave awaits..

Carpe Diem my friends.


She let me…

My slave and I don’t fight.  What would be the point?  As the Master, I always win anyway.  But what does that really mean?  Izrina is a human being with feelings and emotions like anyone else.

This past Saturday was freaking awesome!  The collaring ceremony was beautiful!  It was a version of the “Ceremony of the Roses”.. and as always happens, drawing blood with a rose thorn took forever.. note to you all.. if you do this ceremony, take aspirin beforehand to thin your blood and bring one of those glucose meter prick thingys as a back up.

Now… Izrina wasn’t with me.   She had work in the morning.   So I got in around 2 or 3am.  She didn’t sleep well before that.  The truth is, while we are monogamous in our body fluid bonding, but I reserve the right to play with anyone in other ways at any time, and while she is OK with that, when a person fixates or fauns over me, OK becomes not so OK.  Truth be told, Raven is one of those people who fauns over me.  Not that Izrina exhibits any negative behavior, but I can sense it bubbling and I know it needs to come out.

So I had a wonderful evening.. and I left her at home.. and before I go raving about all that, lets talk about the slave I left at home.  We don’t fight, as I said.  Now if I was a nilla type of guy, I’d say she “LET ME” go out.  THAT doesn’t work for me, or for us for that matter.  We talked about her feelings.  I think it would be more correct to say that she gave me none of the drama that she might be feeling.

I in turn did the right thing, and discussed this openly and as honestly as I can.  My objective was to make sure that we understood our roles, and that I would be who I am, and that I was there to help her find her comfort with that to the best of my ability.   This is all very interesting Master stuff, so let’s keep rolling with it for now.  I’ll get to Saturday evening in my next blog.  Btw, I am also very interested in the term “emotional intelligence”.   More good stuff on the way…

For now though, lets just talk about being a Master without being poisonous.  In many ways, we who are Masters are somewhat sociopaths.  Everything IS about us.  We don’t understand why we can’t have it all.  We demand it all and when we don’t get it, we are quick to go looking how to get it no matter the cost to others.  When a slave ties themselves to us, they tie themselves to a person who will use them in all ways.

They know this going in, and yet the potential damage to a slaves cares and concerns is very real.  It depends on the Master.  When a Master is not a real sociopath, we do know when we hurt others and we do care.  We care deeply about others and most especially our beloved slaves.  So we compromise.

Not with our slaves, we would never compromise with our slaves.  We compromise with reality, with what IS.   We bend to that which we can not change.. but only if it does not change us in a way that WE can not compromise.

When you realize what a razor this is, how deeply it can cut either side, you realize what significance and importance you MUST give to compatibility.  You must take the time to find the one that fits your kink as you fit theirs.  It is a difficult thing but it you can find that, you have the world at command.

Izrina has the day off.. from work but not from me.  She rose early and served coffee and a delicious breakfast sandwich of Bacon, egg, and cheese, before I set off to do my thing at work.  Life is pretty damn good!

Carpe Diem my friends.. Go seize the day!


Collaring tonight

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Last night was the Love Of Leather munch.  Many of the leaders of that group are leaving and no one is stepping up to fill the roles that will become free.  I hope someone steps in to run that munch.  I volunteered to assist a few years back, but ran into a conflict with the owner, and haven’t tried my hand at managing any portion of it since.   I’ll wait another month or two and see what happens.  Hopefully it will not wither for lack of volunteers.  That is always an issue with every BDSM group.  Some people want to run things but its their way or the highway.. and some people need a swift kick before they will show up to help.

I met a wonderful lady there last night.  SynfulVixen..  Her pic at age 30 is here.    She is a bit older now.   I am always fascinated by persons who are still into BDSM, as they get up into their 70’s and above.  There is so much there.. all the years experience.. the beauty that once was on the outside, but now shines on the inside…  The reaction you get from 18 year old’s when they encounter such people…  We are in a culture that worships external beauty.  Some might be repelled by the idea of wrinkled bodies having sex.  With a long and healthy life, we will all eventually face the things these folks face.  Best to pick their brains.

It would be nice to see more dialog about the challenges and prejudices they encounter.  I maintain a Fetlife group for stories that pre-date the internet.. about times when people found other kinky people without the internet.  In NYC, it was mostly through ads in the back of porn newspapers.  I am hoping she contributes a few stories to my Fetgroup.. “The Pre-Electronic Party.

Tonight is collaring ceremony for Raven Pup.  Such history she and I have.  I am to give her away.. kind of a father of the bride kind of thing.  I have promised at least one fire scene, though who knows.. maybe I’ll do more fire tonight.  I need to pick up bottles of fuel.  I owe Feel Me Breath at least one, maybe two.  I think I’ll leave four bottles for the next time I need to borrow fuel.

Izrina has to work Sunday,  and since I plan to stay until 2 or 3am, I will be leaving her at home.  I could bring her, but she would simply end up resting on the aftercare couches, and while I have no problem with making her be there for me,  I think I’ll just wake her up when I get back home, instead.

Carpe Diem my friends..  I go forth to be someone’s great day!


Strange dream

I never remember my dreams, I don’t know if I dream in color.  I woke suddenly from this one.. I remember it vividly.


I was lost, alone, somewhere in NYC.  The buildings were old, and run down.  The residents were all black, and I was a white man, lost in a huge city, one of the other boroughs I am unfamiliar with.

The GPS in my phone was no help.  I asked Siri to show me a walking path to a subway, hoping it would not be a restaurant…it could not.  I asked for a walking patch to the statue of liberty.. why did I not think this was on an island?  No matter, the phone found no way out.

I was tense.. not really afraid.. more like a coiled spring.  I stuck out, a man with an expensive phone, who didn’t belong.  The money clip in my pocket.. I wanted to stuff some cash in my shoe for emergencies.  Some of the neighborhoods I was walking through were rough.  My mind raced to gangs that are violent, just to send a message.  I ran scenarios in my head, thinking of options.

At one point I was near tracks.  The rails were so old, I could not tell if trains were running. There were street signs with very high street numbers.  I was somewhere in the hundreds.. not that it mattered.  I wasn’t sure if I walked towards lower street numbers, it would get me out of this borough.  Besides, the tall buildings and narrow streets twisted and turned, making direction hard to figure out.

One young man sitting in a yard full of car parts said he had a taxi.  We walked to a yellow car under a tarp.  He pulled off the tarp.  It was an odd vehicle with a boat like belly under the grill, like it was designed to go on water.  He asked me to break off a part of the car.. said he had set up an electric trap so no one would mess with his car.  I began to suspect I was helping steal the car.  I refused.  Two other young man helped him and off they drove leaving me behind.

I stopped frequently, asking for a bus stop, a taxi, a subway.  Everyone just laughed.  We don’t have those, they would say.  I stopped to speak with three attractive middle aged women.  They offered me a ride.  I took it.  After we started moving, I began to wonder what I had gotten myself into.

The women were dressed quite sexy.  The car was expensive.  The driver skilled.  She slid around cars, down alleys, then mentioned a shortcut.  I asked were we were going, the women just laughed.  The ladies, like everyone I had run into were black.

The one in the back asked if I wanted out.  I said I had no idea where I was, I might as well stay.  She shrugged and the car pulled onto an abandoned railway and began driving on the dirt.  On either side of what once was tracks, rose brick high-rise apartments.  The buildings, like the abandoned rail tracks were old and dilapidated.  The car ran smoothly over the rough terrain.  I commented on what a nice car this was.. The driver said it was the German engineering.

These were rich, powerful woman.. and there were three of them.  I drew up my Master powers.. to project strength and authority… but the women were unimpressed.  These were powerful people like myself..  They were interested in me, but as equals, not as submissives.  Well at least as far as I could sense from what I read from them.  Who would be Dominant was still to be decided.

The lady next to me in the back, turned and leaned over so that her cleavage showed.  I could see nipple.  It was hard against a large dark black areola.  She smiled, turning on her charm.  I turned to speak to the passenger in the front, and as she turned towards me as well.  The plunging neckline on her dress moved to reveal some nipple as well.  Neither wore a bra and their breasts were firm.  The sexual tension rose.  She smiled pleasantly, and I am fairly sure she knew what she was revealing.  It was an invitation, and a test, to see what I would do.

The driver careened down an alley, which had  piles of snow.. it had been warm earlier.  I didn’t think at the time to wonder where the snow came from.  The car pushed the snow out of the way with ease.  The driver commented on six wheel drive.  I didn’t recall that when I got in.  The snow flew to the right and left.  It seemed we were going to slide into a telephone pole but just before we hit, the driver turned right down another alley and we went downhill,  behind two-story houses into woods behind the houses.

We turned into the woods, no path or road in site.  Now we were four wheeling like a jeep, the luxury car with its leather interior drove so much better than any off road I had been on before.  The swing arms of the suspension drove the wheels down with a crazy long reach, keep the car smooth and level as we drove over boulders and rocks.  This was a very expensive car.

We made small talk.  The driver seemed to know where she was going.  I commented on how beautiful and sexy the three of them were. The woman in the backseat with me, asked if I was strong enough to satisfy all three of them.  I smiled.  Perhaps we might find out, I said.  I wasn’t sure.  Certainly, I, maybe two.. but three?  I wasn’t sure myself.

We pulled into a paved driveway and the middle of nowhere.  A three story mansion rose against a hillside.  In front, there was a fabric wall, made of black and blue vertical stripes.  It was backlit, hiding the size of the building.  I was in the middle of nowhere.  Sure, I could run, but who was Dominant had not been decided yet, and I was up for this adventure.  I didn’t feel in charge, but I also didn’t feel in danger.  It seemed to me that whatever happened, it would be consensual.  I was hoping I would not be the one needing to provide consent.

We went inside, climbed some stairs and entered a large room filled with leather furniture.   There was an expectation of adventure.   The room screamed wealth and privilege.  Fine crystal, leather,  ebony,  oak and polished black granite.. or marble in a designer living-room.   The women were putting things away.. coats, purses..   I took off my coat and said.. Usually when I find myself in these situations, I am the Dominant.  They laughed.   I raised a figure to make my point.  Somehow I knew you would say that, I said.

I thought, just because they were used to being the Dominant, was no reason for me to switch.  Where would this go I wondered?   Now, for the first time I was what?  Nervous?  Certainly I was vibrating with energy. I would need to muster all my Dominant power to turn this situation.  Then I woke.


Dreams.  What do they mean?  It has been said that dreams are just a play back of the emotions we have felt during the day.  If so, then yesterday, I was feeling a sense of less power, less control, and a need to take back my power and control.  That was definitely the feeling throughout the dream.  A sense that I was struggling to get control.  Certain events at work have definitely been like that.  And I have been soft on Izrina.  The incident with the horse has turned into a nasty bruise, right on Izrina’s lower back.. so she has been tender.  My attention has been on her instead of me.   Not a lot of Dominance there to counter my work issues.  So yeah, maybe yesterday left me feeling power challenged. 

Or maybe this about my giving away Raven at her collaring ceremony.  I have had strong feelings about this coming event.  Or maybe it is the pending visit to NYC in the planning stages.  There was a lot of gender and race overtones.  Interesting.

Another take on dreams is that they are another reality.  A time when our eternal selves are free to roam time and space.  Dreams may be our interactions with other spirits, people who are free to roam.  If that is true, I wonder… does what we do in dreams have an effect on our karma?  I believe that evil in this world is a self inflicted wound in the next.. but what of the good or evil we do in dreams?  We often have no control over the reality of the dream, but we still seem to have a will, we still have the ability to choose right from wrong in our dreams.. Do our choices in dreams matter?  Ah well, At least I know I dream in color.  I can distinctly recall those colors at the house. 



People watching

I am a people watcher.  This is a people watching piece.

If you read my blog, you know I am big on the little things, the little moments.  When your life is about stopping to smell the roses, to stop and really experience life, often “nothing” can be a really big deal.  Today was no exception.  I bought peanut butter at the grocery.  It was one of the best parts of my day.

I drove into the local supermarket and found a parking space.  No big deal.  I picked up a shopping basket and did my flourish… a thing I do where I flip the basket in one hand so that the second handle comes up for me to catch it.  Yeah, I am showy like that.  Of course the thought goes through my head.. did anyone notice?  Now the worse thing you can do when you are showing off, is check to see if anyone is looking, so I didn’t.

But then my Master side kicks in and suddenly I feel ten feet tall, a giant among midgets, an indomitable spirit on a mission to buy peanut butter.   I am projecting..  I don’t know how to tell you what this is, but I am putting out a vibe, a power vibe, which is a little friendly and a little intimidating.  I stroll over for to the vitamins isle first.

An elderly woman is escorted there by a 20 something young lady from the service desk and the elderly woman says.. OH, its right there where I was looking.. thank you.  The young lady turns and gives me a grin as she goes by.  Was that dazzling smile for me?  Or was she just amused by the old lady?

I watch the old lady putter and then she turns without taking anything… Maybe the prices were better at Walmart.  Interesting…

Now I am twenty feet tall and I am in full people watching mode.  A family by the butcher, a mother, maybe 35, and a very bored daughter, maybe twelve.  The daughter is staring into space, her mind numb from just how boring this is.  I smile.  If she had a cell phone she would be texting.

Now its a grey hair gentlemen and his grey haired wife.  Shopping together.  They are actually talking about the selections.   That’s nice.

A black gentleman and his wife who is taking way too long to pick an item.  I watch.  He fidgets and finally gets involved.  I grin broadly.  I’d like to see if he pulls out the anger card but don’t want to be obvious about my people watching.

Another isle and another couple.  A middle aged white man, and clearly a husband, is simply there to push the cart.  The man is bored out of his mind.  Why is he here?  His dislike of this task is bordering on anger. Why go if you don’t want to be here?  She is clearly making all the decisions, what is he there for?  Like the twelve year old, he clearly doesn’t want to be there.

More couples, more bored men.   So many people sharing shopping but nearly half of the people here are hating it.  So many bored people, dragged along why?   I am practically chuckling out loud now.  The thought crosses my mind…  You would think if you have to go, you would find some way to be involved, and make it more enjoyable.  But just as quickly, I think.. These are people who would have no idea how to make things fun, even if you tried to explain it.

Off to the dairy section.  As an after thought, I picked up some chocolate almond milk.  I’ll mix it with Kahlua.  When Izrina gets home, she will find a hot tub, and a tasty stiff drink waiting for her.  The poor thing got mashed by a horse again and is in pain.

Now to the checkout.  Three silver haired ladies are lined up, waiting on a thirty something woman.  I give them my best dazzling smile.  They smile back. Its always easier to charm someone older.. have you noticed that?   What am I saying.. every girl figured that out by the time she was eighteen!  It took us guys a little longer to figure out we were being charmed.

Charmed!  When ever Izrina serves, she bends over and her cleavage is right there.. I mean RIGHT there.  We both know it.  We both are aware of it.  Sometimes, because she is my slave, I let my eyes wander.   I would never do this with another woman, but with her, it is a pleasure we share.  I let her charm me.  Hell I let my eyes wander all the time.  In fact, when she walks away from me, she is required to walk heal to toe, so I can watch her fanny roll in a beautiful figure eight.  Its a goodness for her to know that she can affect me.

To my right at the check out is a father with three kids.  A little girl about ten is very bored.  Her younger brother is pestering her younger sister.  Dad is just trying to get through the self check out.  The girl comes over to look at what I am buying.  She doesn’t look up.. She’s curious but too young and shy to start a conversation.  The thirty something woman comes back and there is a problem.   I take my change and the assistant says.. Have a nice day!  I reply back, I‘m working on it.  The three silver haired ladies all chuckle.   I turn to the three of them and say.. I’m fairly sure to get a good day, you have to schedule one…  They chuckle some more.

And with that I take my leave of the store, peanut butter in hand.  The silver haired ladies are giggling like little girls.  Behind me so many people in foul moods, but I and a few others are in a great mood, amused by my peanut butter adventure.

There were so many opportunities there to make days better.   I could have struck up a conversation with one of the bored husbands.   I could have let the little girl who came over to my register, ring up some items. You never know though.. sometimes when a sixty something guy is nice to a little girl, people think it is sweet.. but some might think its creepy.  The ones who think its creepy, are probably creeps themselves.

Why am I so happy, with nothing going on?  Hard to say.  I get a certain pleasure seeing and knowing instantly the story in front of me.. the people oblivious to the emotions they are pouring out.   It doesn’t make me better, but it does make me more awake.. more in tune with what is going on around me..   Its hard to say how you do this, how you take a simple trip to buy peanut butter, and change it from a boring, rushed, annoying task.. into a pleasant adventure that has you chuckling…

What I can say is, life is very good when you take responsibility for your happiness, when you seek the opportunities to be someones great day, when you step out of your own little shell and share moments with others.

Carpe Diem my friends.. Go be happy..  by being someones great day.