No tentacles on the table please!

Show of hands.. How many of you had a mother who admonished…. NO elbows on the table please! ?  Yeah, mine too.   Not sure where that rule came from. I am sure its is something like why people eat with their fork upside down.. a thing done to not look like you are shoveling the food into your pie hole.

I had to make an exception though for tentacles.  We already use a carafe for 7pm protocol, so when I saw this I just had to add it to the House of X meals..


There is a thing about tentacles and damsels in distress and I must profess to have attractions to both.

First, Damsels in distress.. The whole notion of the innocent and beautiful damsel carried of by the villain or monster.. her clothes torn, a hint of her breasts exposed, the terror and uncertainty of intent.  What does he want with me?

Then there are tentacles, the rope like bondage, the movement over skin, the size and number leading to complete mobilization.  Often the tentacle is re-imaged as the ultimate large phallic symbol.  Male Octopus in fact do have a tentacle specifically designed to inject sperm.

They are highly intelligent, jet propelled, and able to camouflage them selves or being boneless, able to slip into the smallest of openings.  It is easy to both admire and perhaps be a hesitant about being close to one..  just like a Master..

Carpe Diem my friends, be someone’s great day.



Happy Thanksgiving

I am aware that celebrating Thanksgiving on this date in November is a USA thing. Other countries celebrate in a similar way, on different days.  Most are a celebration of a bountiful harvest, giving thanks that we will survive the cold of winter when nothing grows.

From my quotes:

I am thankful for beautiful skies, my inner guide, and the universe through which I offer myself as a conduit. I am thankful for my canvas, she with whom I practice serving those who serve. I am thankful for that which gives meaning to my life. I am thankful for those who have shared moments with me, letting me be part of their life.   As I become part of their life so too they have become part of mine. ~ Xtac Quote, Thanksgiving 2014


And now for some elucidation.. which is my way…

Giving thanks is something much more important than most realize.  When we give thanks we show gratitude.   Gratitude in turn is a turning point in which we shift our focus from what is wrong in our lives to what can be  appreciated.   It is in this subtle shift that your whole world comes alive.

There are numerous studies and advocates for gratitude as being critical to a happy life.  Oprah Winfrey for example has long promoted the need for gratitude.  For a deeper dive into the need for gratitude, see “Two rituals, part 3”


Moving from theory, to life…

Today is a brand new day.  What you focus on will determine just what kind of day you make.  Even if the bills are crushing, the family is rushing, and everything is a mess.. Outside there is crisp cool air.  Don’t forget to stop and take a deep breath.  Inside something may be cooking and the smell will be wonderful.  Step back and there may be the sound of voices.  Or perhaps you live alone… So start something cooking…  Don’t have a great day, make one.

And while you are figuring out just how to make a great day, remember this.  Happiness is often found in the satisfaction of getting things done.  Work is often a blessing.  Working to help others is twice the blessing.   Seize this day!  Be thankful for the opportunity to be part of something.  Go forth, and live.  Be someones great day.. even if it is in the small things like a smile for a stranger or holding a door.  Carpe Diem my friends, be someone’s great day!  And give thanks for the opportunity to do so.


1950’s housewife headaches

When you start a 1950’s housewife Master/slave relation you don’t expect to hear: “Not now dear, I have a headache”.  Seriously..  When I want some slave action, its go time.

That being said, any Master worth their salt is going to care about the health of their slave.  Much like an employer you expect your slave to “call in sick” once in a while and of course you are concerned.  But you also expect the trust you give and the concern you show, will not be abused.

It needs saying that there is no direct comparison between an employers tolerance for sick days and a Master’s.  Work should ideally be somewhere in the neighborhood of 40 hours a week.  Slaves are 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.   That’s 168 hours a week, less sleep and work so we’ll say our beck and call girls are going to get demands as much as 72 hours a week.  A little less than double the normal work week.  When a slave is sick they don’t skip eight hours they skip twenty four.  It’s a whole different thing.

Because slavery is so pervasive its probably a good idea to give your slave some “down time”.   This is a subject entirely different from sick time, but it is worth mentioning here.  Down time is time that is their’s to use as they see fit..  with parameters and guidelines of course.  Down time is a good thing.  Its good for the slave feeling overwhelmed and its good for the hard core needy slave.  Both can benefit from a little down time.  Hopefully it leads to an appreciation when things  “get back to normal”.. by which I mean back under Master’s thumb again.

Downtime is helpful because of the number of hours a slave is dominated.  That time though has nothing to do with headaches, cramps, bloating, and the plethora of other ailments that can make your slave feel less than sexy.  Back to the subject at hand.

There was a slave who had cancer, and her Master did not let her off the hook for her duties.  And when questioned he simply said, “She needs this”.   Each person and case is different but for this particular slave and situation it was the best thing for her.

More often then not, a slave will find that the firm hand of Master leads to the epiphany that they can muscle through.. and then comes the curious sense of satisfaction of having beaten back the obstacles.   I builds character.  It strengthens the kind of discipline we seen in the military.  The Master’s own brand of discipline can be rewarding on many levels.  It is a Master’s job to recognize and address things like procrastination, delay tactics,  and excuses.

But what of the legitimate need for rest when a slave is truly, very, very sick?  It should go without saying that a Master then needs to become the Doctor.   Thermometer in hand, we need to check their temp, feed them lots of liquids, and tuck them into bed.

Don’t think though, that getting that kind of treatment is going to come easy from this Master.  Coming to me with “I’m not feeling well” is probably going to be met with hands on my hips and the question:  “Are you REALLY going to use one of your sick days?”      I have little tolerance for “slave sick days”.   If you are sick, you better be throwing up or have a fever.  I need symptoms I can measure before my sympathy can even start to kick in.

Now you may wonder how many sick days I take.  Damn few.  My company saves the unused sick days and think I’ve accumulated over 300 days in the piggy bank.  I would rather call in dead, than sick..  Fortunately, I have an office and can sequester myself to keep the rest of the office from catching whatever I am trying to work through.  I like to think I lead by example.

Getting back to slaves, I often hear my mother questioning me as a child when I wanted to get out of school  I think I take a lot of my thoughts about slave days off from my childhood.  Slaves can be a lot like children trying to get out of going to school.  Their tummy aches until they are off the hook then it time to run and play… just like mine did when I was a child.

Just my two cents.  Maybe I am too much of a hard ass but again…  its been my experience as a father and a Master that its best to have measurable factors before softening.   Plus,  I would rather err on the side of being tough, than soft.  Its a better choice all around.  Too tough can earn a grudging respect but too soft has no upside.  The absolute last thing I want happening is for my slave to “get over on me.”  A slave outwitting the Master should be a very rate occurrence, if ever.

Carpe Diem my friends, be someone’s great day.



Ye Old “MY Master”

My slave never says “My Master”.  It is part of her earliest training.  Pardon me while I recount yet again why.

When you first start slave training, a Master should “reset” a slave’s whole mindset about who they are and what life with a Master is going to be like.  Even an experienced slave needs to start fresh, to wipe away the cobwebs of past Masters, to begin again the journey of submission.  There are a few things we do along these lines… we take away a name and play games like “what are you now?”  It is also important that the notion of being property, there for the use of the Master be a strong presence.  Anything less than being an extension of the will of a Master, won’t do.

Towards that end, NOT using the phrase, “My Master” is useful as a constant reminder that ownership is the right of the Master and not the slave.   Later it may have less meaning as it becomes second nature to think in the terms dictated by Master.  At first though it can be interesting to monitor for slip ups, and extract apologies.  I do so love extracting apologies.


“What is thy bidding my Master”


Who cannot listen to the word of Darth Vader and not have strong feelings about such a strong and powerful character  kneeling in malleable obedience and submission to another?  There are certainly strong feelings wrapped up in claiming a Master… thoughts along the lines of  “This is the one I serve.. this is MY Master”.

Izrina has been in my service a very long time. Perhaps I mused, it was time to give her the gift of being able to speak the words.  Certainly at this  point in our relation, she is not going to backslide into some nilla monster picking and choosing what she will and won’t do for me.

Right?  Maybe.  Its dangerous territory letting down your guard, slipping into assumptions, letting subtle and small infractions slip.

A Master serves just as surely as does the slave.  A Master MUST provide that strong dominant hand that lets their charge know that the things they would not do for themselves, you will make them do.  It is what you are there for.   If you cannot do this, a slave doesn’t really need you.

I gave the idea time, mulling it over in my mind.  To offer or not offer.  The devil on one shoulder arguing.. “what could it hurt”?   The voice of experience cautioning against such destructive changes.

I asked her anyway.. “Would you like” I asked, “permission to say My Master”?  I hope dear reader, that you are jumping ahead in your mind to her answer.  Would she gravitate to the warmth of embracing a sweetness so long denied?  Would she be so well trained that she was incapable of wrapping her head around a pleasure drawn from the forbidden?

We were lying in bed, talking as so many couples do when this subject came up.  She turned to me and said quite simply: “No”.   I pressed the matter… “Are your sure?”.  Again she was brief: “Definitely”. Dangerous ground that question.  I smiled and thought it but didn’t say it… “Good Girl!”

Carpe Diem my friends.. Be someone’s great day!




Hopeless romantic.  Is that a dying breed?  So many marriages fail. So many people will caution you… don’t get married, it never works out the way you hope. LTRs.. Long Term Relationships.. is this even possible anymore?

Some folks will profess a desire to find one true love.  Others will be so tainted by soured relations as to never hope again.  Still ohers will claim to be an incurable romantic… hoping against hope that somewhere out there is the man or woman of their dreams.  Some of these folks are already the wrong person.. but still they have a dream that one day they can live, laugh, and love with the person that completes them.

That completes them…. words spoke by a Master and slave.  The Master completes the slave as the slave completes the Master.  It is a formula much closer to the dream of the hopeless romantic.

I am no spring chicken.  I’ve lived and loved a lot.  I think back on my many relations.  Women who stirred my heart and lower.  I can’t put an exact finger on why each failed.  Sometimes I fell out of love.  Sometimes they did.  Sometimes it was an epic rise like a rocket and ended equally explosive.

Then there is my slave Izrina.  We have lived, laughed, and loved for sometime now.  We still laugh, we still frequently say I love you, often without thought, the feelings coming to the surface as a need that must be expressed.

We talk frankly.  We talk about the dangers to any relation.. the temptations that flirtations outside the relationship bring.  I think it is possible for a loved one to meet your every need, to keep you completely happy, and still you might want more. We are not poly, preferring to keep what we have between us.

More.. I don’t want more.  What I have is more than enough.  Oddly, when you are in love no one else compares.  I have observed this before.  Attractive women have no appeal when you are in love, because real love is a deeper connection than appearance.  I have to believe it is the same in both genders.. when you see a person for their kindness, for how the person they are is perfect for you, handsome simply would not be enough to interest you.

Or perhaps this is a thing of age.  Certainly when I was twenty my interests were more about my dick and what I could do with it.  Relations were more about the sex, than the relation itself.  Don’t get me wrong, sex is still important, but there is more to a really happy life with someone else than that.  It is the laughing, sharing, and things that fill a day that is just as important.

I am very happy.  Not sure about Izrina at the moment..  A few seconds ago I was snuggling up for a good nights sleep when this need to write came over me and the lights went on and the keyboard came out….  The curse of living with a blogger….  She’s grinning now as I type… Life is good..

Carpe Diem my friends, be someone’s great day.  And may you find the love of your life.


When CNC becomes just NC

Consent is the bedrock of modern BDSM slavery. It can be stated in a more complex way but it really all boils down to just that. You are feeding a deep and exciting need while getting the same.

Anything less is Domestic Abuse. To the external observer there is no difference. Both the domestic abuser and the Master take full control. Both limit movement, money, and choices. But where the abuser instills fear, the Master instill love.

There comes a time though for any Master where you face a question not unlike every Sadist must face. Every Sadist will come to question at some point why they hurt the ones they love. Every Master at some point will cross the line of consent forcing their slave to do something they did not want to. How then is this possible?

It comes down to equitable exchange. A Master slave relation is not equal, certainly not to the outside observer. But it is equitable. This means that what each gets from the relation is of equal value to the person in the exchange. If I give you an old plastic child’s toy for a lot of money, but you place a very high value on having that toy, the exchange is equitable because of the value each places on what they receive. In the same way the sadist and the Master give and receive exactly what excites and fulfills both sides.

A Master can take a slave in a primitive sexual way. They can USE their slave. When they do, they fulfill a primitive earthy sexual game in which each is stimulated. Likewise, in a CNC or consensual non-consent relation, we see an attempt to mirror what it would be like for the slave to actually be property. And in some case that relation does become non-consensual.

There are times I make my slave do things she does not want to do and her resistance is very real. The struggle to make her comply leverages all of our personal quirks.. my love of a good mind fuck, her love of the feeling of my Mastery. Always preset is the knowledge that consent is there to be ultimately involved.. It is the nuclear option because if she actually told me no and meant it, that would be the end of the Master slave relation. I never force her to do something unless it is for my pleasure or for her own betterment.

In her heart she knows this. And so she choose to comply. She takes pleasure in giving pleasure. She takes comfort in the strong hand that makes her do what she knows she should but might otherwise not have.

A Master completes a slave just as a slave completes a Master. It is a very rewarding life, and I live it 24 X 7. I and my slave live to share these discoveries of the pleasure of life, both through our interaction in community events, and The House of X.

Carpe Diem, my friends. Be someones great day!