Discipline vs Punishment

November 27th, in brutal cold that froze guns and men alike,  120,000 Chinese troops began an offensive to kill 30,000 men that were part of the United Nations troops in the Chosin reservoir area.  The year was 1950.  The country was Korea.

American solders who had fought in World war II had seen their fair share of brutal conditions.  Now they faced a seemingly hopeless battle as the Chinese sought to encircle and kill them to the last man.

If the Chinese didn’t kill these men than the cold surely would.  The cold turned gun grease to jell, receivers jammed, guns didn’t fire, batteries failed, vehicles stopped working, artillery froze, in short, the men would fight the elements and their equipment as much as they would fight the enemy.  In the battles that followed there were many acts of bravery but somehow against overwhelming odds these men would inflict crippling losses on the Chinese while retreating under heavy fire. A lesson here is that retreat and a temporary loss can be part of a larger strategy that turns the final outcome.

What makes some men run into danger when others would run away?  Why would a man stand up in the middle of a hail of bullets so that mortar rounds can get a proper bead on the enemy?  What makes a man run through a killing field to his wounded comrades and bring them to safety?

Military training certainly is part of this.  It transforms teenagers into soldiers.  Certainly there is the sense in trust between men that fight side by side.  But that training also instills in them something they may not have had before: discipline.

When you think of the word Discipline, don’t think of punishment.  Think of the athlete who does one more lap around the track even though their  body is begging to stop.  Think of smoker who fights every day the urge to smoke and yet does not.  Think of the soldiers who faced fear and death but still moved forward.  Discipline is what makes us get the job done, its what makes us get up the next day, it makes us complete the task we would rather not, and keeps us from procrastinating.

When you think of BDSM and you think of Discipline, don’t think of paddles or spanking.  Think of the boring things that are expected to be completed, the things you might not have done if were not for discipline. Discipline is what keeps excuses at bay, it ensures that every inspection goes smoothly, it means that there will be no lapse in the protocol, rules, or structure of the house.  It means the rule of your law is a constant, never wavering absolute that can be depended upon.

You know what punishment is. Punishment might be used to create discipline, but don’t think of the two as one. True, they are related, but they are very different things.

You may be punished for a lack of discipline. But if you HAVE discipline, you won’t need to be punished. What is confusing is that sometimes punishment for a lack of discipline is referred to as “being disciplined”.  If you are being “disciplined” it doesn’t mean you are punished, it means that this quality that keeps you on track is being instilled in you.  Punishment is just one way of creating disciplined people.

To keep it easy to remember, just remember the discipline of an athlete, or the discipline of a soldier.  The internal fortitude they show is discipline.  You WANT to acquire discipline.  Something to keep in mind is that we who would be Masters must discipline ourselves before we can hope to teach discipline to another. If you would be a good Master, try to eliminate procrastination, and build your self discipline.

Carpe Diem my friends.. Now show some discipline, get going, get out there, and be someone’s great day!

MY Master

One thing you will never hear Izrina say is:  My Master is awesome!  He’s just the best Master ever!  She is never going to ever say that.

It’s not that I am not amazing and awesome.. I am.  It’s just that she doesn’t use the word “my” very often.  She might say,  The Master I serve is awesome!  He’s the best Master ever!

It may sound weird, this addiction I have for words.  Understand that this is a thing that runs deeper than just playing with how we say a thing.  It cuts to the core of something she can never think.  She can not think that I am her’s.  She can not think that she has some leverage over me.  She can have no expectation of control over my wants or desires. I am not hers on any level.  Even my Domination is not hers.. it is MY gift, to her.

She is MY property.  She is there to serve and please me. If I stay late at a Dungeon as I often do, and she needs sleep because she must rise early to be at the barn, I might send her to the car to nap.  I get chatting, and I love being in the center stage, so it can become hard to leave.  I see her need for sleep though, and her need comes before what I want.  IF I can manage both her need and my wants, I will.  If you have not heard this before, these are the priorities of Ds in order

  1. The needs of the slave
  2. The needs of the Master
  3. The wants of the Master
  4. The wants of the slave

And what happens when a slave doesn’t like another slave and thinks that slave is cutting in on her territory?   Let’s examine that question, shall we?   Starting with “her territory”.  I don’t have to go any further do I?   You can see already where I would go with this.  IF there is no.. “MY Master”, then there is no “my territory”.  Izrina has jokingly said she’ll scratch the eyes out of any bitch who tries to cut in on the Master she serves, but she knows better than to say that in a serious tone.  It amuses me.. as a joke..

I have a “thing” for playing with Raven Pup.  It happened at the North East Power Exchange Competitions.   Raven and I had a wonderful scene and the scene that Izrina was promised didn’t happen.  There was drama afterward.  It wasn’t jealousy per se.   I won’t go into it but I am sure you can imagine where I stood on this.

Izrina gets it. She knows its my pleasure first.   She knows that I am “the Master she serves”..   She would never dream of saying “My Master”…. hmmmm unless her SAM side broke out and she was looking for a beating (SAM = Smart Ass Masochist).   Izrina is sisters with Raven.  We talk from time to time about how she feels about Raven in my life.   On the surface there appears to be no issues, but there is something else we must always be aware of.

A sidebar story about Izrina being a SAM:  On one evening Izrina was giving me a little lip as she sometimes does when her SAM side breaks out.  So I was all Dominant and having heard just about enough lip from her, I demanded in my most Dommly Dom voice..”Get your ass in the car now!”  So she did… she turned around bent over and just stuck her ass in the car door.  HA ha!  I am fairly sure that every time she bounced in the saddle of her horse for the next week, she went.. chuckle..ow…chuckle.. ow!  Bruises are a lovely way to remember the one you love!

When you DO find someone special and your life is freaking wonderful when you are with them, you can develop a fear of losing them.  We know that living a life in the shadow of fear is self destructive but we often do it anyway.  Fear has a way of creeping in, of convincing us that we are fools if we do not nurse fear.  Fear is the dark whisper that calls you to the shadows and you know you should not go, but you sometimes do anyway.

The idea of love being limited and a commodity to be fiercely guarded is a concept that I don’t understand. ~ Slave_Shylah

When we live without fear, when we allow ourselves to love someone more than we need them, when we act as conduits for the endless love that can pour through us…  then and only then can we an live up to this quote.  It is easier to say than to do but it is also worth fighting to achieve.  It starts with knowing that the person you are with truly loves you, that they will place no other above you, and that they are worthy of the trust you place in them.

Carpe Diem my friends.. Go be someone’s great day!

It IS about the pussy

I hope Vile, a blogger I respect and appreciate.. has a sense of humor about this. He has put out a number of pieces now in which he states firmly. .It is not about the pussy.. 

I was completing an interview with him and one question was about being a Bedroom Dominant, and I stated for the record that sex is not what I am about.  But I felt like I had to justify my answer, like there was something wrong with that.  You DO need to justify yourself if sex isn’t your main drive.  People honestly don’t understand.  In quite a few ways it IS about the pussy.  I’ve been thinking about that.

It bothered me. I did my thing.. where I hold a question for a while.. I taste it, I put it on, I wear it for a while,  I turn it inside out and try it on again, I mulled that question over and over until it was  rags and somewhere along the line my muse came to me and said.. What the hell are you doing?  You already know the answers.  You just have to trust that you know it and trust that your ethics and heart will guide you well. 

Right!  You know what?  There is nothing wrong with BDSM not being about the pussy.. but then there is also everything wrong with it.  A friend and Master was approached by a slave who wanted to serve him.. So he agreed to a trial and invited her to his house.  She was excited.  He had her clean his house.  Now she was less excited. The experience made her more reflective about serving this Master.. see?  Sometimes it IS about the pussy..

I suspect that is exactly why he had her clean his house.  Not to be a prick, or because he needed that but because he was testing her.. to see if for her, it WAS about the pussy and the beatings.  Brilliant really, you should make a note of that idea.  Most guys WOULD crawl on broken glass to get some ànd some slaves will walk out if service isn’t sexual.

Its not just the Dominate who can fixate on sex.  If a Master isn’t taking possession of your body to use it, and maybe abuse it, ask yourself: Do you feel a little less like a slave who is desired?  We all need to feel valued.  So ask yourself:  Would slavery get a bit old if sex was not part of your submission?

When a Dominant expresses desire for you by taking hold of your ass, whispering an earthy “mine”, doesn’t that feel wonderful?   For some people there is something about the feeling of taking.. and being taken.. that incredible passion that strips bare all of our humanity and leaves us as exhausted puddles of satisfied flesh.  If your answer is:  Oh God yes!  then the honest answer is that yes sex IS important and it needs to be acknowledged.  Many slaves who aren’t getting pounded aren’t going to stick around.  I know I don’t have that problem with Izrina.  She is well tested.

Orgasm denial can be about torture, control, AND testing.  At the end of the day though, there has to be some release.  Sex is a requirement for nearly everyone.  Orgasms are a healthy need.

Both Dominants and slaves have to ask themselves if sex is the most important part of their desire.  You need to know.. You have to question and ask.. Do you care more about a good beating than anything else?  Is the most satisfying reason for all this submission is between your legs?  It works both ways. What is your hierarchy of needs?

Its true –  When sex is good it’s only 10 percent of a relation and when its bad its 90%.

When you ain’t getting some, sometimes its all you can think about. You know its true.  It’s all around you .  People who are so fucking desperate to get some really satisfying sweaty sex, they would do almost anything.  It becomes an obsession.  But its like Maslow’s Hierarchy Of Needs.   Once you have fulfilled your greatest need, you move on to the next.  It’s why I created Xtac’s hierarchy of needs.  Even though I pkace sex on the same level as control and beatings, sometimes sex  is all I can think about.

Look..there is nothing wrong with sex being a huge part of BDSM.  Especially if you are young and full of cum.  Or an old horner fucker.. Hell, forget age..  The “little death” is an “out of body” experience that is addictive. We all know this.  You don’t need me to tell you that.  But you do need to think about where it fits in your personal hierarchy of needs.  You need to have a discussion about that and its needs to be an honest one.

The Dom who starts your training by having you wear no panties might be into making you feel vulnerable to his control. That could be a good sign.  But the Dom who’s first training involves learning to suck cock his way has revealed a fateful flaw.  His personal hierarchy of needs is out of whack.  Consent, trust, negotiation, and control all come first.

I actually agree with Vile that “It’s not about the pussy.   I have no problem ordering Izrina to do her daily chores because I know as a Master it is my sacred duty to provide that sense of control and Domination that rounds out the experience.  So its off to the kitchen for her.. in a skimpy little number.. red silk tonight…  hmmm why is she so fucking hot when she is being all domestic?  What IS it about secretaries and domestic help that is so fucking hot?

hmmm  why are those curves under silk so mesmerizing? – as she bends to clean the silk hikes up, revealing that lovely line between ass and thigh…  sigh.. and what lies between…   mine for the taking..  I need only command…  mmmm… slipper silk sliding over butt cheeks…  hmm slippery is a word I can get behind..  A Master should never deny himself the pleasure of taking what is his…. Right?   There is that dilemma again. Lord give me strength!  Sometimes it’s just so hard (pun intended). Come on! (Opps! Puny again)...surely you can see that sometimes  it IS all about the pussy!

Carpe Diem my friends.. Go be someone’s geat day.

 

 

White is the color of darkness

It snowed.. and snowed.. and snowed.. We had white out.  For a while we were getting three inches an hour.  I’m glad for Izrina’s safety, she got to the ranch after picking up some clothes and then slept there last night.  I really hate when this happens.

In the morning, I  got to work myself, but it was at just a little over half my my normal speed..  I am surprised they didn’t close the local interstates..  They were pretty slippery.  I had the whole building to myself… no one else showed up for work…. hmm,  until quite late when some of the evening crew showed up.

I don’t like when she stays at the ranch…I hate it.. but I allow it.  I hate the idea of her driving in terrible weather even more.   This is the second time this year that white powder has darkened my life by stealing my slave…. Freakin snow!

Have I mentioned in an earlier blog, that home is divided into five sections… one for each day of the week.  She is to pickup, clean, and dust each section on its appointed day.. and then I inspect it afterward.  That way it never gets too far behind.  I like schedules and plans.  Today was the kitchen area.  So when she got home.. finally….  I was torn between keeping to the schedule, and making up for the time I lost to the snow.. but I did the right thing..

Have you ever been on an exercise program or diet and one day you break it… just for that one day?.. and then the second day you are like  I’ll restart tomorrow?   Sometimes you put things off so long its hard to start again.  The thing is, you absolutely must stick to these things or procrastination takes over..  So when I said I did the right thing, what I meant was that even though I really really wanted to make up for time the snow stole from me, I shoved that in a box, let her finish her tasks, and then did my inspection.  If I didn’t and the schedule started to lapse, I would have no one but myself to blame.   Freakin snow!

The rest of the evening was lovely.. I am thinking ahead now to Valentines day.. The girl does love her chocolate.. Oh.. and then I shoveled some more before bed… Freakin snow!

Manipulation and inspiration

Leaders inspire people to follow them.  Leaders have followers. That’s it, nothing more.  A leader doesn’t need a title or the gravity of authority to get people to follow them.  They can be high on the chain of command or low.  Often a leader IS someone lower in rank, a person working for someone in charge, but because that person is a leader, people follow, they do, for the leader.  It happens in the military and business, its a thing that at first blush may seem hard to pin down, but its really not as complicated as you might think.

There are only two ways to motivate people.. manipulation and inspiration.  If you want to be a leader, speak last, listen, compliment people, give credit for contribution and great ideas.  Hording all the credit for yourself doesn’t inspire people, but being selfless as you bring together all of the talents in a room. THAT inspires people.  They feel like they contributed to something that had meaning, that they achieved something on a personal level, because of the way the leader made them feel about their contribution.  We all want to feel like we accomplished something.  How many days did you work all day and feel like you accomplished nothing?   That sucks, right?

I am inspired.  Work has been satisfying.. because I lead, and because MY leaders recognized that, they left me with the feeling that my leadership, had value.  Even leaders need to feel inspired.  We all prefer inspiration over manipulation.  Life has been crazy busy but satisfying.. Its not how hard you work, its how satisfied you are afterward.


We are supposed to get between six and ten inches of snow over the next twenty four hours..  Damn… that’s a lot of snow.  I am not looking forward to shoveling that.  Izrina slept at the ranch again because of it.  I hate when that happens.  Time to put on a happy face and make the best of it.  I feel like an actor..  What’s my motivation?


And what does this have to do with BDSM?  Everything.  A slave is like the worker who needs a leader..so the Dominant must inspire.. they must craft their language and project a sense that what the slave does has meaning..  And the slave needs to do that same.. a slave needs to craft their language and project a sense that what the Dominant does has meaning.  Izrina often says.. A pleasure to serve.  I made myself some crackers and cream cheese tonight as Izrina soaked in the tub after a long day at work..  I thought about it for a moment, then brought her a small plate.  Hers had strawberry.. mine had jalapeno.  She smiled..I couldn’t use her line.. it just didn’t fit.  What was it I said?  Ah Yes, it was: A pleasure to bring happiness, to the one who serves.  Hey!  I’m a Master.. I can do whatever the hell I want to do!

A Cane, and its pain, can heal

Somewhere between a diary.. and a workshop, lies this blog..

Saturday night was fire play, and afterward a person whose opinion I value said:  I don’t want this to sound like an insult, so how can I say this.. Your play tonight seemed less sadistic.

Now if you read my accounting and are not into flying or a pain slut, you were probably thinking that my description sounded pretty darn sadist to you… So now you have to be wondering, just how freaking sadist were you in the past MasterX?


Evilution, again

I’ve seen it time and time again.  The evilution of a slave and Dominant.  As much as the Master and slave relation seems fixed, as much as seems fairly simple, nearly every relationship I’ve known has gone through transitions.

Sometimes its on the Dominant side.  A sadist becomes more sadistic or less.  An owner becomes more controlling or less.  Sometimes its on the slave side.  Sometimes there is a desire to dive deeper into submission or masochism.. or sometimes the opposite is true.

How many times have you heard the reason for a divorce was, “We just grew apart”.  People take separate paths sometimes and when they do, they tend to grow farther and farther apart.

It’s no one’s fault when your desire takes you in a new direction, nor should we necessarily sacrifice a new understanding of who we want to be, just because it diverges from a road you mapped out with another.

The marriage vow of “until death do you part” has its value.  If you entered into a heterosexual marriage, knowing full well that you are gay, you entered into that marriage as a lie.  All of your promises for a future that would be mapped out together were based on a premise that never existed.  That is an extreme case but it makes my point.  To a lesser degree, there are other examples like this.  If you knew in your heart when you took your vow, that there was something fundamentally flawed right from the start, but you hoped it would work out, then the fault is on you, but also the responsibility to set it right.

In a similar way, we often enter into BDSM relations not fully comprehending the commitment we are making or the degree to which we will need to fight to hold onto that promise.


The cane, its healing power,

The cane is another vicious tool of sadism.  It is easier to control than a whip, but the damage it can do in the hands of an inexperienced person is terrifying.  Never, and I mean truly never, use a full swing with a cane until you know what it can do.

That being said, research in Russian suggests that caning can help some people overcome all sorts of issues – from depression, addiction and weight-loss through to guilt that needs to be exorcised!

Here is at least one person who has already started to cash in on that!


Tying it all together – Saturday, changing, the cane

I have been thinking about Saturday night.  Has my sadist side softened?  Certainly I have laid out the case for believing that everyone changes.  Yet I know that pain, like the cane, has a value, especially for people who are cutters, or have issues with depression.

I have a growing conviction that is reshaping my thinking.  First, I don’t think my sadism has diminished.  Let’s dispense with that right off the bat.  But I do think the Sadist and Master alike go through an adjustment period.

Just as we become more comfortable with our level of sadism over time, as we grow to better understand what it is we achieve with it, so too our level of comfort with pushing the envelope of consent in the Master/slave relation grows more comfortable as we better understand what we can achieve with it.

What I am saying is, while my sadism hasn’t diminished, my level of comfort with what I do with the control of Izrina has grown.  Its another level for me.

I had a talk about this very subject on Saturday with another person, and essentially, I realized that my three areas of slave choice, are really no different from the classic one choice.   The first for the larger measure really only exists for an un-owned slave, and the third is the nuclear option.  Like the cold era policy of MAD ( mutually assured destruction), the third area of a slave choice is so radical, it may never be exercised.  I realize that for all my rationalization, a TPE really is as all encompassing as it sounds.

I still like my three choices better.  The third choice of a slave needs to stand out in our minds, as the nuclear option that we pray is never used  It should be a caution to both Master and slave, the gravity of the mutual destruction that might occur should it be exercised.  It also serves as a notice of just how serious this role of Master becomes.. when an owner grows into the shoes they promised to fill.

Metaphorically speaking… and fire play

I read this on a T-shirt recently…

Your use of literally makes me figuratively insane

Ha!  Funny!  Speaking of funny, you know in the beginning, way back on blog one, I said:

My thought is to make a public diary, a stream of observations as they come to me, and not put any ego into its success.. ( ha! – speaking of ideas doomed to failure).

Metaphorically speaking, I think I may have turned a lovely afternoon stroll into structured, classroom field trip. You, my dear readers, who came along to share this journey with me, I wonder, are we still just walking and stopping to notice the birds and trees?   Or have I turned this into yet another lecture as I so often do?

Now class, this beautiful specimen is is a woody perennial flowering plant of the genus Rosa, in the family Rosaceae, more commonly known as a rose.. come sample its fragrance..

Yeah, I do that – but today I will not. Let’s get back, metaphorically speaking to our stroll in the woods.  We now return you to our regular blog, already in progress…


My original goal was to be more of a diary, than a diatribe.  Today, let’s return to the diary part of this shall we?   I was asked yesterday for my thoughts on a training collar, and I am going to post on that, but not today. For my blog today, let’s go back to the diary format.. where we can wander for a while, viewing what its like, living with X.


AN EVENING OF FUN!!!

We talked about going to Feel Me Breath yesterday.   Now, since my daughter went to College,  splurging on a bag of chips and some dip is a celebration.  Things are freakin tight, financially speaking.  So I didn’t really didn’t want to spend the money, especially after we had just blown big bucks on the North East Power exchange.  It has however, been quite a while since we left home with its paper walls and sounds of neighbors living their normal lives.  It would be nice, I thought, to get into a really nice scene.  Oh, I give the occasional smack on the butt, or swat with a belt, but a really nice drawn out scene with all the sounds of leather and moans is something I would rather do in a Dungeon.

So, since we would be up late, I chose to snuggle and nap a couple hours, and then it was up for a quick dinner.  Its important to have a little energy and digestion in place before we deplete the body of all its loverly chemicals.

Izrina wanted to go full on, floggers, single tail, and then fire on top of it.  It  been a while since I got really sadistic, and I was worried that when I put the alcohol over fresh single tail marks, and then set her on fire, well, I had no doubt she’d go under but was she ready for that much sadism?   She assured me that she was..

So we negotiated with FMB for a space in the dungeon where I could set up a fire station right next to the back side of a double Saint Andrews cross, and a table for my fire source and fuel.  In effect, my own little section, ready for this intense scene we had planned.  I planned to take my time.. we had all night.  I figured two hours of play, two hours of aftercare..  I could feed her sugar laden cookies afterward to rebuild her strength.

A WONDERFUL SCENE

My slave stripped, revealing plenty o flesh for me to work my sadist pleasures upon. I drew leather cuffs snug over her wrists.. just tight enough that should she collapse, she would not drop to the floor, but loose enough to allow circulation.

I led her by a handful of hair to the cross, and pushed her roughly, face first into it.  Scratches down her back, light slaps to her ass. Reaching around from behind, breath on her neck, pinches to her nipples.

I presented my flogger, the instrument of her pain and pleasure.  She kissed it, blessing it for her submission, and so it began.  A soft low growl of a whisper in her ear, Master assuring her that she belonged to me, and I would have my way with my property.  That she would give herself to me completely, submitting her pain as a sacrifice, a testament of her loyalty and devotion to my will.  Yes Master! she replied and the first fall of the flogger kissed her bare back in return.

One strike followed another, my focus a laser on that which extended from my hand.  Right hand, swinging from the left, target is the left shoulder blade, a natural back hand swing, contact area tight, no straying towards the arm or spine, contact good.. my swing proceeds in the natural figure eight of a traditional flogger swing.. down and around and back up for a down stroke on the right shoulder blade.

Now my focus is stronger, a momentary glance at the muscles in her neck.. is she tense?  Harder or stronger this time?  Right hand, swing from the right, less time to correct my strike area, VERY focused.  It is more difficult to control the strike area than with a back-hand from the other side… flogger completes the figure eight circle, its many leather tails whistling through the air now in a downward stroke towards her right shoulder using my right hand..and makes good contact.. good speed, tight impact box, no stray towards the spine or arm…

Now is when the crowd melts away.  It is just me, the flogger, and she who is my canvas.  And I paint her.  I paint in in soft pinks, her back and ass showing the first color of this scene.  I paused.. a moment to touch her back, to connect..to FEEL her.  I need to sense what she is feeling.. and to draw my nails down her warm and now very sensitive back.  THUNK, my heavy flogger with the fat, soft tails has had his way with her and now it is Sting’s turn.

Again the focus, the desire to create just the sensations I plan, with precise hits of a speed and force that I think she is ready for.  It’s the endorphin ladder, the stairway to heaven, the method that triggers the body’s chemicals until your charge isn’t just in subspace, they a gone.. completely and totally gone.. they are flying.

Now it was the quirt.  A quirt is two leather straps at the end of a whip like handle that curve in the throw, and uncoiling about the same, but the sound is not like the crack of a single tail.  Its leather on leather on flesh.  The first strap strikes flesh and stops, then the second strap slaps into the first with a wonderful snapping noise – the sound of two pieces of leather coming together quite suddenly.  The sound is as terrifying as is the potential for long lasting bruises, but I go slow, light, enjoying the sound more than the potential, because I know we still have the single tail to bring forth.

I was anxious to get to the single tail.  They are something to not be trifled with.  All of the focus you bring to a flogger is nothing compared to the single tail.  With a tail, you are not just focused on the two dimensions, the strike zone, but also on the third dimension, the depth of your strike.   Strike too close and you can strike higher than expected.  Strike from too far away and it can crack without touching, that loud scary crack it makes when the popper breaks the sound barrier. Get a single tail wrong and you can open a wound that requires stitches to close.  Knowing this, I picked up the tail and drew my nails down her back which was now quite red.

Her back was a mottle of pink and bright red.  Her irritated skin had small spots of red, where pores protested the abuse.  I started the single tail in a light horizontal stroke. The popper grazing lightly across her back, from left to right and then right to left.  Now when I say lightly, there is nothing light about a single tail.  Each light graze leaves lines in the skin, a temporary indication of where it has been.

Now I tested a light vertical strike to the shoulder blade, Izrina shuttered, I continued.  Horizontal again, another vertical strike.  The vertical strikes are vicious.. the tail like a snake uncoils all of its fury  into that sound that breaks the sound barrier. The terrifying crack of that flimsy popper moving at tremendous speed is a real world demonstration of science.

The Kinetic energy that I deliver to my slave is the mass of the popper times the velocity squared.  Since the speed is higher than the sound barrier, and the factor of speed is squared, the damage potential is enormous.  Izrina shuttered, her eyes watering, I took mercy and shifted back to the flogger, reminding myself she asked for this.

To fly, a top must not back off.. but a top must also know when a slave has had enough.  I alternated between the single tail and the flogger, pushing her, looking for the signs that she was gone.. and then I called it.. the end of the impact portion of our scene..

I decided that what we could not achieve on the Saint Andrews, we would on the fire station.  We would talk later and she would tell me that she was almost there when I took her down.. Hind sight..So we could have achieved flying on the cross.. damn!

It is OK though.. I knew I would get her there.. She was like a rag doll.. with the help of another Dom, we moved her to the fire station I had set up next to the Saint Andrews.  She lay a bit on her side, not fully flat.  When the fire hit her it was like a switch.  She went from slightly curled up to a puddle of happy.  She fairly flowed out flat, arms drooping over the sides of the table. The leather of the table had been covered in cotton and padding to protect it from fire drips.   I now covered Izrina in alcohol and fire.

Fire play can be like a warm massage or and evil fucking torture.  It depends on what you want to do with it.  Tonight, since I needed to push her over the edge, and she had not gone yet, I started with it like a gentle massage of heat. Once a person is flying, I swear you could take a chainsaw to them and they wouldn’t care.

I slapped the burning wand soaked in fuel onto my hand.. setting my own hand of fire, then wiped that fire across her back, the secondary warmth rubbing into to tender flesh and muscles..

I took an unlit wand, soaked in fuel and laid a trail of alcohol across her back.  Alcohol in air evaporates nearly instantly.  Evaporation is a cooling process. I blew on the raw fuel, speeding the process, creating zones of intense cold.  Cautious as always to be sure no fuel remained, I returned with the fire.. heat on cold.. and she was totally and completely gone.. NOW I could do anything.  She was beyond nearly any pain I could bring. and my sadist side relaxed and played with the flesh before me.

I drew an “X” on her back in raw fuel and set it on fire.  The “X” emblazoned ever so briefly on her back in orange and blue flames.  My logo danced briefly before I wiped across it with my free hand, starving the fire of air and putting it out.  Nothing.. not a single muscle tightened, no shutter.. she was gone.

I played perhaps another half hour, drawing in her skin, warming and chilling it until I drew bored.. It’s nice when someone flys. but when they are gone.. they might as well be a rock for all the reaction you get.  I put out the candle.. my fire source.. and tightly closed the fuel jar.. my fuel source.. so there could be no accidents while I was away from my play station. The aspiring Dominant I spoke with last night at the munch was there, and I called him over for help moving her to a couch.

If she was difficult to move from the Saint Andrews, she was twice as difficult moving from the fire station.  She swam up from her fog, just enough to keep her legs under her.  I, with my arms under her left and he holding her up on the right, we half walked, half carried her to the couch where she collapsed.  I drew a soft warm blanket around her, grabbed water and snacks for the long wait of aftercare, and then drew her head into my lap.

Izrina is slow to come up out of it.  She likes to stay where she goes for long periods of time.  I have had people walk up to me 30 minutes later and ask if she is ok.  I like to joke that people sometimes poke her with a stick to see if she is still alive.  I chatted while she flew.

Now if you are wondering how the hell you can put someone on fire and not have serious burns, let me share the science while we wait for Izrina to return to us.

The alcohol is mixed with water.  It is not the liquid alcohol that burns but the fumes.  At the end of a long evening of fire play, my wands are soaked with the water that is left behind and can actually become difficult to light as a result of that.  Back when I was the carnival ride, I often had to wring out the wands, to get the water out, before continuing.

Now when I run a wand over a back, I can press down leaving some fuel behind and that fuel leaves a burning trail on the flesh.  But an odd thing happens if there is hair.. the hair only burns down to stubble.  You would expect the skin to be smooth after burning off hair but it is not and the reason is also the reason why we can do this at all.

You seen the alcohol forms a thin film on the skin but the alcohol itself is not burning, the vapors above it are.  So, if we drew a diagram, you would have layers.. the skin, then the thin film of fuel, then the vapors, and then the fire.  Between the fire and the skin is a thin film of liquid.. and it is this thin film that lets us briefly touch fire without being burned.  If you want all the gory details, go here to my fire play 101.  Fire play is also known as “fire fleshing”, because there are many kinds of ways to play with fire, besides putting it on flesh.

Izrina in due course returned to us in the land of the living and we talked about the scene.  I mentioned that I regretted not giving her a mark with the quirt.  So before we left, I gave her three. Two on purpose and one by mistake..

I marched her to the center of the dungeon and had her bend over, drop her skirt, and move her panties out of the way.  NOW I was ready to use the quirt in all that potential glory I mentioned earlier.

First her left butt check.  The aim was true and the speed and force all the I could manage and the mark was perfectly placed.. a one inch high strap mark around five inches long perfectly aligned across her ass on the left.    That swing is easy because its back hand.

Now the right butt cheek.. I was feeling cocky and sure of myself and just swung for it.  Fuck!  I was low .  I left a mark across the back of her thigh well below my target.. Damn… that’s going to be rough when she is back to work and riding horses.. Well nothing for it but another try.  I took two practice swings.. getting my stroke, speed and arch perfectly aligned and then let the real one go with all the speed and focus I could.  Perfect!  She had another perfect mark on the other cheek.  The two were so well aligned it almost looked like I had struck them both in one blow… very nice.. I admired my work, before letting her dress again.

For at least the better part of the next week, every time she sits she will have a reminder of this week end.  She’ll send me a text with just this.. WEM!.. which stands for “wicked evil man” and I’ll smile.  I’ll smile because I know she just sat wrong and got that sudden rush of reminder..  yeah.. its what we do.. and it pleases us both.  As she was crawling into bed, her ass was presented to me, and I had to stop her so that I could admire my work one more time.  I hope they color up nicely. That would please me immensely.

I’ve said it before and its true.. my main kink is power exchange. This sadism stuff is almost like the movie Secretary.. I am serving her needs more than mine.. Oh!, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it.. but being addressed as “Sir”, or “Master” is what really gets me hard.   Carpe Diem my friends.. Go be someone’s great day.

My slave accused me of Evilution


Evolution – noun  (ev-oh-loo-shun)
1. The process by which different kinds of living organisms are thought to have developed and diversified from earlier forms during the history of the earth.
2. The gradual development of something, especially from a simple to a more complex form.

Evilution – noun  (ee-vil-oo-shun)
1. The process by which different kinds of sick fuckers are thought to have developed a lack of concern for the pain they inflict.
2. The gradual development of sadism, especially from a simple spanking into more and more elaborate shit until three steamer trunks are required to haul your toys around.


 

Munch, munch, munch…

Yeah, so we went to our local munch tonight.  Good food…. good company.. An aspiring Dominant sat across from us, and we chatted at length, and as the table filled, he found himself surrounded by three aging Masters, all with a soapbox and plenty of time, and advice.. on their hands.  That poor fucker! Trapped!  Trapped I tell you!  At least he took it in stride.

Anyway, at one point the conversation turned to how a new Dom might make the mistake of lessening their level of sadism, because he or she feels its something they can’t do to a lover.. Or not order a blow job, even if its what they want.. The general consensus was that eventually we evolve past that…. or is it devolve?.. Izrina and I spoke of this more during the ride home.. maybe we evilve?..  (pronounced ee-vilv – part of the processes of evilution).

It’s a serious issue, this evilution thing… I mean first, you have a hard time being a sadist and feeling like you are genuinely treating your pet with love.. but then you get over it.  The next thing you know, your slave is saying no to Master and you are all like.. I’m sorry.. “no” doesn’t work for me.  I believe the answer you are looking for is: “Yes Master, whatever pleases you.  Now keep that ass in the air, while I go retrieve the canes and riding crops from the closet.”

Back before Master succumbed to evilution you could be pretty sure of what he was capable of.. now you aren’t so fucking sure… After that sick bastard gets back from the closet, not only will he beat a dead horse, he’s likely to bring down such a beating that even the infamous dead horse might have the courage to run away from it.  Your slave walks into the room thinking…Look.. we both know that you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him.. oh fuck!…fuck, fuck, fuck.. Look, Look! Ok!  OK!.. I’m drinking.. see me drinking like a good horse??

When did “no” start meaning “yes”?   Hard to say.. Evilution is a slow process.  The grin gradually gets bigger, the toys more wicked, and one day you just wake covered in marks and it dawns on you.. another victim of evilution!

Izrina read this before publishing and her critique was.. this is a short one for you.. Excuse me… I have to get something from the closet.. be back soon…..

Service, or submission? Which comes first, slave?

Michael Makai, famously put forth the notion of the “Warrior Princess” as a slave category.   It was warmly received by slaves who previously felt no one quite understood them.  I remember sitting and speaking with a slave one evening who laughed at the notion.  She fairly spit at the thought.  She didn’t warmly receive his ideas at all.

Why start with this?  Why now?  It starts with the fact that I have long pushed Izrina to do more self evaluation, to dig deeper into her own feelings and communicate these things I need to know, to be a better Master.  I need to understand my slaves motivations, before I can motivate her.

You must ever be mindful to manage the mind, not the body of the slave. ~Xtac Quote

She said to me last night, that she thought perhaps she loved service, more than submission.  She said it so very meekly, knowing my love for her submission, and the power I feel in that exchange.  I sensed that she didn’t want to trample on that, so she approached with caution, less I object, or worse.

Of course inside, I did not receive this thought warmly at all.  My main kink is power exchange.  But a Master does not jump to panic or negatively.  We use patience, love, and the projection of focus on the reality we wish to create.  So I did.

My first thought was that Izrina is impressionable.  It’s like seeing a commercial that says.. Do you wake up tired in the morning, didn’t get enough rest?  And you say.. OH my God!  I have this disease.. what ever it is.. write this down, I need this drug.

That is not to say she is weak.  But she receives the focus people hand her and runs with it.  What do I mean by that?  If she was reading Michael’s work, I would expect her to come back saying she could see some warrior princess in her.  She did mention a recent slave forum discussing something along theses lines.


 

So my new question, my new focus becomes.. Is service more important than submission, for her personally?  What does that mean for our dynamic?  Too soon to say.  We’ve only just begun to unravel this one.  She is just now beginning to really let me in to her most inner self. I too must tread lightly.  We are making progress.  Its important for me to nurture her communication.

I know that may seem odd, but it has been a very long and slow process.  She is a very private person, easily prone to embarrassment.   I love the canvas I am giving a new life to.  For me, at this point in our dynamic, she is like a flower ready to bloom..Each day, she opens a little more, and each change is beautiful.

I can tell you one thing I know about this new subject.  I am who I am.  It doesn’t matter what this means on at least one level.  I will have my way.  I will be a Master, even if I have to push through this in a slow, steady, unrelenting pace.  I have seen the destruction that can occur in a Master-slave relation when there is too much “nurturing”.  I’ll be damned it I’ll let that happen here.  My sacred role will not change.. and therefore, that which feeds me must exist.

I don’t think we are talking about the “broken slave syndrome” here.  If you are not familiar with this, it’s fairly common for a Dominant or Master to find a shy, retiring, submissive or slave and begin to fill them with confidence.  The Dominant is like a therapist, or councilor, “fixing” what is broken, making them happier, healthier, more alive..  What happens next is sad.  Often these Dominants are then cast aside.  I know a few Dominants who have sworn off all “broken” slaves because of this pattern.  But that’s all negative stuff. It can’t happen here.  As Sno would say about something negative.. “erase..erase.. erase..”

Serendipity my friends.. How odd is it then, that a blog I chose to read today, not knowing the subject matter in advance, was very similar.  The title was “What makes me different, I guess” by Sir’s nijntje .  The subject matter was about being a Dominant with everyone but her Sir.  Life brings together odd things at odd times and I always wonder why.  Why now.. Why this person.. what potential has the universe created this time and what will I make of it?

Serendipity happens. I often wonder why the people I come into contact with, were presented in that time and place. How will this weave into the fabric that will become the lessons of this life? ~ X Quote

Now I have more to ponder…I wonder.. do strong persons, who submit to one person and one person only, submit to only to one person for the pleasure of service? Or is it more complicated?, Perhaps a need to find a comfortable place in the hierarchies of power that surround us?  Why one person?  Does it matter if submission is a means to service?  How does that change the dynamic, and the motivations?

Makai had this to say on the subject: A typical submissive lives to serve. She likely grew up believing that service to the people you care for is how you express your love for them. It had little or nothing to do with relationship dynamics, sex, kink, or anything anywhere near that complicated. It is a simple, sweet principle of love: If you care for someone, you do nice things for that person. It makes you feel better, it makes him feel better, and it makes the world – or at least your little corner of it – a better place for a time.” ― Michael Makai, The Warrior Princess Submissive

There is a kernel of truth in there.  Perhaps a submissive or slave who desires to serve one person only, does so because this is their highest truth.  To express love, they MUST do so through service.  It makes sense.  A true Dominant can understand this, because in a very real sense, we serve those who serve us.  We do this with constant love, attention, and patience.  We do this with guidance, nurturing, and care.  WE who are good Masters in a very real sense, serve only one, our slaves.

There are many slaves who are personally strong. If you have been around a really good alpha slave, one who trains other slaves, you know this is true.  I think the best example though is myself.  As a manager, I enjoy my interactions with my direct reports, my employees, but I am equally good in supporting the person I report to.

In a very real sense I am both Dominant in one direction, and submissive in another, yet I have no issue with this.  I have no craving for more power, no desire to climb the corporate ladder so to speak.  I am quite comfortable with this role in my life.  In most things, I bristle when I must submit to authority, but because the person I report to respects and appreciates my competence, and trusts me to handle what I am delegated without micromanaging me, I am OK with this position.

Hmmm I am definitely not of a slave mentality… taking this further, using myself as a guide, does that mean that persons who serve only one are submissive rather than slave?  Bah!  Stupid idea.. forget I said it.

I have a disadvantage in reading Izrina.  A HUGE disadvantage.  Master’s take note… When she is with me, she is always submissive to my authority.  I can’t see how she interacts with her co-workers and bosses.  I wish I could be a fly on the wall and observe that.

That is my disadvantage, and really, its a disadvantage all Master’s share. I am curious how she is with other people when I am not around.  I know that I can’t assume she is as meek with them, as she is with me.  It’s definitely an area to ponder, and to investigate as best as can be, from discussions about her day… Her day.. hmmmm

Her day.. a side note.  You know I think that what we give focus to is important.  When I first started applying my creative touches to she who is my canvas, and we would discuss her day, it usually started with a rant about her bosses and sometimes her co-workers.  That bothered me because her main focus, what she brought back from the day, was anger and frustration.  She may not have realized this before, but she will when she reads this:  Her focus has been a lot less angry.  Oh! She still gets pissed off by the same stupid jerks, but its not the first thing she runs to anymore about her day.. and that is a good thing.  It means she is finding her appreciations, discarding her frustrations, taking responsibility for happiness, and yes – generally less angry after work.. all progress that I am pleased to see and report.  This is a direct result of my managing her mind, not her body.  I pleased with the results.  She is a generally happier person for it.

Much of the wisdom I share is from years of discussion and life.  This is a new question I have handed to my muse.. the part that has all the answers.  It’s odd.  I don’t know if the muse is part of me, or a connection to something much bigger, but the muse always has answers..  LOL!  my muse is scolding me.. of course its something bigger..  It’s hard to explain this inner guide.. The harder I try to put it to words, the less sense it makes…Maybe this works better for you..

Doing the right thing, is always the right thing to do. ~Xtac Quote

What is right, is always right in front of me, if I listen. ~Xtac Quote

Hope there was some things of value in there for you as a Master or a slave..  things that help you craft a better relation.  Or.. if that is not your purpose in reading, a better life. Carpe Diem my friends.. Go be someone’s great day..

The cost of my world

My brother recently mentioned that he was thinking of writing.  He wanted to put some important thoughts to paper.  In the course of our conversation, I suggested he might want to check out my “core values” piece on my “about page” in my blog, this blog.

I hadn’t invited him to check it out before now, since my BDSM side seems to be a mild irritant.  Every time I would visit, some toy would come out of the bag.  Bull whips, or violet wands, or butterfly knives, or fire wands.. it was always something with me. So he asked me to please just tone it down a little.

So yeah, I wasn’t pushing my blog, but I thought the core values might be something he’d be interested in. I think he read a bit more than the “core values” piece because he made some very complimentary comments about the blog and among his text messages was one like this: “I was so impressed with the amount of time and thought you have put into the blog.  It seems to be a very stabilizing and clarifying force in your life.”

Hmmmm “stabilizing and clarifying”.  That part kinda felt like a negative.  Like somehow my life was this undulating mess of weirdness that needed focus and explanation to make sense.  So I did what I do.  I thought about it for a while.  Here’s what I think now.  In a sense, my life IS pure anarchy and insanity from certain perspectives and seeing this, I now have a new quote:

The price of admission into my world is, at the very least, to grasp the concepts of my reality. ~ Xtac Quote

Take a saying all too familiar in the BDSM community.  “I have found freedom in my chains”.  To most, this is at best asinine and at worst evil.  Yet we understand and accept it completely.  It makes perfect sense to those who crave the comfort of having someone else in charge.

In a very real sense, when I write, I am writing not just for those who understand the freedom of chains, but I also am trying to build a bridge across the gorge that stands between BDSM and those who’s reality is based on relations grounded in equality; who’s highest expression of social justice is to do battle with any inequality.

The battle for equality based on age, religion, gender, and sexual orientation has left some wounds that will take generations to heal.  As in any battle, neither side who has done battle, ever truly trusts the other.  It takes a fresh generation, born into a world without these wounds to create a world in which there are no battle scars to nurse.

Having fought so hard for the promise of equality, throwing it all way on some kink like power exchange must seem foolish and a betrayal to some.  My reality is not uniquely my own, but neither is it  a standard that can be easily accepted by those who worship at the alter of equality.  Now, I am not saying that is my brother’s reality.. I am just using this as an example.

Understanding my reality comes at a price.  Equality is NOT my highest expression of social freedom.  It (equality) is merely the starting point, the place from which you can negotiate any life you wish. You have to understand certain things to grasp my world.  When I Dominate my girl, I am giving her a gift.  That is so alien to some, that while they may hear the words, they may not be able to accept this as reality.  It is more like a fantasy, an alternate universe, a mental aberration, anything other than something that fits neatly into the world they understand.  How can anyone appreciate, being bossed around?  Can they truly be thankful for that?  The answer is, Yes!  (followed by Thank you Master)

So in some ways, I am clarifying my thoughts, aligning them with others, looking for the bridges to other ways of thinking. Not that I plan to cross over.. I am very happy on my side of those bridges.  I like my reality.  I love my way of looking at things much better, thank you very much.  I don’t expect to be able to be freely “out of the closet” with my way of living any time soon though. Maybe not even in my lifetime.

It would be cool is I could walk down the street with my slave and instead of holding hands I would have her on a leash and a collar.. and people would say.. awww… they look so cute together.  See?  Alien thoughts.  You see something like that and your first thought isn’t how in love we are.

Maybe someday, but that reality is so far off in the future, even I can’t imagine a day when that might happen.

Carpe Diem my friends, Go be someones great day!