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.

 

 

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.

Munch and fur flying

I know that I promised to follow my list of quotes by others with some of my own, but I strongly suspect you are reading this for the BDSM content and not to hear me pontificate.  Since tonight’s munch was interesting, I’m going there.  I’ll get to my quotes tomorrow.. promise.


Munch, munch, munch…  Someone once told me that a munch was a meeting over lunch.. Not sure the origins of this term but its been in use quite a while.  It’s been bitter cold so I packed Izrina in furs and off we went to a local munch.   I like them.  Its an opportunity for me to be my gentleman sadist, and get her coat and doors.  If you want more on that, use the “search for words” tool on the right side of this blog and search for the word, “gentleman”.  In fact, if you haven’t used that tool before, I encourage you to experiment.  I use it all the time to find blogs I know I’ve written.

Rolling into the scene…We, and by that I mean I, picked an open spot at a table with a gentleman who was at the house party this past weekend.  Across from me was an older couple I had not spent a lot of time with.  Then a newbie couple came in and joined us, sitting right across from us.

The gentleman of the older couple had a strong interest in rope, and his Fetname implies this is what he is all about rope.  He and his bottom have been together for thirteen years.  The new couple, were as you might expect, a bit nervous about this whole munch thing, having never been to anything community related before.  I was anxious to disarm them, make them feel welcomed, and answer questions.

As you can well imagine, I love when I have an opportunity to speak with newbies.  It gives me a chance to pontificate, which of course I did at some length.. speaking to them about finding a way to communicate your self identity, about Ds, BD, SM.  They had never heard of subspace which lead to after care and a number of other subjects.


And then the fur started flying! – Every time I opened my mouth though, the bottom in the older couple interjected with comments about how “everyone is different” and “advise from one person doesn’t fit everyone”.  And then I would point out, yes, but I hate that kind of talk, because some things are intrinsically true.  Plus we need people to share all of the tools in their toolbox so we can find the ones that work for us.  We share so that everyone has a full toolbox.

I would then move on to another subject, to be interrupted again.  Back and forth it went. I began to wonder why the top was so quiet.  I began to wonder if the bottom wasn’t really running that show.  I didn’t however offer that thought, because they didn’t offer information about their dynamic and I believe that everyone deserves respect until they lose it.

When you talk, you are only repeating what you already know. But if you listen, you may learn something new. ~ Quote, Dalai Lama

Anyway, I got across my major points, a flurry of ideas to absorb and then pointed out people at the munch they wanted to speak with, to get vetted for the next rope workshop.  They left to go start that process and I had a chance to speak further with the older couple. THEN, the top started speaking, taking soft jabs at my Domination of the conversation.

Seems the bottom’s father was a diplomat, and she grew up with protocol.  It was a very big part of her growing up.. and she didn’t want to ever go back to that.  He hit me with the fact that while they liked the local dungeon, but he didn’t like the fact that many of the people  there were hard core into protocol.  He and his “slave” felt pressured to adopt protocols in their relation.

Suddenly all the puzzle pieces fit into place.  This was a couple who were really into rope, and mildly into Ds.  In their minds that didn’t diminish them as a Dominant or submissive. He felt like others didn’t treat him like a “real dominant” because of their loose format.   From my perspective, with him being quiet the whole time and she being so vocal, I would by my definitions, never consider them to be Master and slave.  I might consider what I observed Dominant and submissive, but only very mildly.  I can see why others might point this out to them.  But I also wouldn’t insult their feelings about their relation by insisting on driving that point.

If I were to do a deeper dive into this, I would guess that he has had to compromise on protocols because it is important to her.  He wants to be a Master, but her hard limits and vocal nature gives him only two choices.. cut her loose or accept the dynamic.  After thirteen years, he’s not going to cut her loose.  They appear to be happy with who they are, and already feel defensive about it, so no point in fur flying over that.  There is only one problem with me keeping quiet as I did.

The problem with silence – This is a couple who will be active in the community. They will rail against the “one true way” and “definitions of identities”. They will put forth that soft mushy idea that you can’t define these things.  They will dilute MY reality, by insisting on theirs.

If a word has no meaning until the person using it personally defines it, then why even have that word in the first place?  What is the value of a word that has no value?  None.  Words such as slave, consensual slave, and submissive need definitions ~Xtac Quote

They will continue to object to any solid advice under the banner of fighting the oppression of the “one true way”.  They will constantly muddy the water of definitions and mentoring because of they don’t want to feel diminished.  I don’t understand why a submissive or Dominant has to feel diminished when I say they are not a slave and Master.  They are choosing to not seek a TPE.  They chose to be Dominant and submissive. Why can’t they be happy with that?  Why diminish MY relation by redefining it? There IS a difference between TPE and submission.  We call that difference slave or submissive. Yes there are different kinds of Master/slave relations but what they share is the common goal to approximate being an un-consensual slave.  From history we know what a real slave is.  Today’s modern consensual slave is borrowing on that term.  Ah well.. this argument is ancient.  I like the older couple, but I don’t like what they think, and I can accept both of these things.

There will always be Dominants and submissives who don’t want to be told they are not Masters and slaves, and there will always be Masters and slaves who are offended by Dominants and submissives dilute the hardcore life we lead by insisting on watering down the conditions required to claim that title.  Might as well ask why left wing and right wing politics don’t get along…

We get into our heads the way a thing needs to be, and then set out to make everyone else agree to our reality, so that we don’t have to change.  No cure for it really.  I could propose that everyone just relax, and realize that the problem is you.  By that I mean that you need to stop trying to impose your reality on mine.. but… and here is the funny part.. I have to impose MY reality about that on YOU to get YOU to stop imposing your reality on ME.  It’s kind of funny when you step back and look at it.

The cure for radical points of view is almost always for you to do the very thing thing you are trying to stop.  The only way to get a religious radical to stop trying to convert you, is to convert them.   The only way to stop a killer, is to kill them.  Why do we kill a killer?  Do we kill a killer to show that killing is wrong?  No.. we do it to stop them, so we can live the way we want. Its weird when you really look at it.  To stop a thing you don’t like, you often have to DO the thing you don’t like.

Argue to the intelligence of your point not to people. If you find yourself in a cage with monkeys, what would the point be to trying to convince them to stop throwing shit? ~ Xtac Quote


I think I am just going to move into a cave with my slave and let the whole world eat itself!


Another interesting thing came of this evening.  There was a Master who was ostracized from the local community for consent violation.  I asked often for details about that.  For the most part, I got vague generalities, mostly about gas-lighting, and one solid example.  The older gentleman gave me some much better examples of why descriptions of his abuses seemed vague.  He describe how this Master was a person who carved out special privileges, treating others as needing his guidance, using his position of respect to interfere, belittling people if they didn’t accept him get involved, and stepping into their scenes and control under his own assumption that as a brilliant and accomplished Master he was just mentoring, not meddling.  That IS consent violation.  You have to be invited, before you can mentor a person or meddle in a scene.  That was good information.

Listening helps!  Let me wrap this up with something that proves you need to listen to others, even if you don’t agree.  The bottom, who kept interrupting, and wasn’t stopped by her top.. she had a new and rather brilliant comment tonight.  She said in essence that in every Ds relation that you have to take into account three things.  She then listed the needs of the Dominant,  the submissive, and the relation; pointing out that all three had needs that should be taken into account.  It was in response to me quoting some “Kinky Vile” comments about Masters and slaves needing to be compatible in their needs.

This three participants idea is brilliant.  I’ve reformulated that conversation into a new quote:  In every Ds relation there are three participants.. the Dominant, the submissive, and the relation.  All three have needs.  Brilliant!  That is very quote worthy!.  And that takes me back to quotes in general.  The truth is that no idea is new.  Every quote I have thought up has been thought of before, by someone, somewhere, at some time.  We just rediscover these things over and over. People like myself who take credit for brilliance are only able to do so because we are students of life, and we listen, then put this stuff back into bite size pieces of critical information for consumption.

Constants!  There really isn’t anything new under the sun. or the moon either. I often point to Romeo and Juliet as proof that no matter how we change, basic human interaction remains a constant.  We recognize the motivations of these fictional lovers from hundreds of years ago, and thousands of year from now, these motivations and reactions will still be recognizable.  Just one more reason to stop the assault of the one true way.  I am not suggesting there IS one true way.  What I am saying is that to move forward, we have to stop being fuzzy on definitions, and start to accept that there ARE good solid training techniques, ARE practices proven by  time to be effective, ARE useful behavior modification methods, and sharing these are important to who and what we are.

Anyway..  it was a good evening.  I got in some time to pontificate. I got to share some ideas with you. and I even got to see my slave turn red faced when I put her on the spot at the munch..always a pleasure in public.  Carpe Diem my friends.. go be someone’s great day.

Ghosts of Christmas past


Today I would like to share a semi-fictional story, based on a real event.
It all begins at a Christmas party, many years ago…


GHOSTS OF CHRISTMAS PAST –  a semi-fictional tale.

He strode into the room, feeling all of the power and confidence of his position.  A fairly young manager, who worked out regularly, his strength showed not only in his presence, but in the muscles that rippled under his tailored shirts.

The room was filled with friends and associates.  Most were people that normally, you not spend a lot of time with.  Others you would.  All were brought together by this little Christmas gathering.  A pair of folding tables, draped in holiday covers and laid out with pot luck foods was the center of attention.   Over weight people, eating and drinking too much gathered here.  The room was filled with that background buzz of people making small talk, their tongues loosened by alcohol, as they wandered about with plates of small portions.  It was Christmas that had brought them together.  In one corner, a tiny fake Christmas tree adorned with lights blinked like a shrine to this gathering of mismatched people.

He quickly surveyed the room, picking his order of attack.  Which people to shake hands with first and get it out of the way. Which people to pigeon hole, to work during play, and which to hang with later.  Plus, he needed the all important corner to commandeer, a place gather his minions.

It was later, after his minions had made their worship known, as he held court in the corner, that he noticed her.  A tall, beautiful woman leaning uncomfortably alone, against a wall across from him.  She was not unknown to him, but the opportunity to socialize with her had never presented itself before.

She was nervous, and ill at ease.  At first it was this shy discomfort that attracted the attention of his Dominant nature.  But as he looked again, he realized that there was more here than natural submissiveness.  She was a breathtaking beauty with red hair and curves that made him swear softly under his breath  God! the body on this woman!

Her freckled, small town girl face, framed by sweeping long locks of straight red hair, held beautiful eyes that turned down shyly at contact.  He gazed more intently at her and she flinched under the attention.  She wore a loose fitting dress whose plunging neckline allowed him to view delicious cleavage formed by rich full breasts, trapped in a bra underneath.  His gaze now swept up and down.  She had a flat stomach, and hips that flared out nicely, complimenting those wonderful breasts in graceful sweeping curves that defined her ample feminine form. High heals drew his attention to long lean legs that disappeared under a skirt just short enough to make him believe that a wonderful mound of womanhood awaited just above thighs that didn’t meet-unless crossed and pressed tightly together.  He drank in this beauty and felt a familiar throbbing in his lower extremities.

Dismissing court, he made eye contact once again, which she promptly broke, looking down shyly.  It only fueled his desire more.  He strode purposely towards his prize, she with her heart aflutter as he approached.  She looked up in a serious of short glances, each time he was still staring, still coming closer, still approaching until his neatly polished boots appeared in her downward gaze.  She pressed her back against the wall as if it would shield her from his presence, but it only served to square her shoulders, and make her breasts more prominent.  He didn’t lean in or put a hand against the wall to trap her.  He didn’t look down to steal a glance at the cleavage, the ample breast between them.  He moved slowly, disarming her.  Slowly he stripped her of her fears and apprehensions, laying her bear.

He talked not about himself, but instead struck her with a constant stream of questions about herself.  She found herself loose tongued, in a way that only too much alcohol normally made her speak.  He kept her off balance, one moment free and easy, and in another he would touch her forearm, a contact that froze her for a moment.  He never quite felt harmless, yet he never left her uneasy for more than a brief moment.  And so it went, moments of ease and nervousness.  The room and its people ceased to exist.

The evening melted away, in a dance of hot exchanges, her universe engulfed by this intriguing person.  Party goers began to make their exits,  and he made his first command of the evening.. stay and help me with the cleanup.  She nodded.  Maybe because in her heart she was submissive, or perhaps she was drunk with the wine of this man’s power, but she gave of herself willingly, eagerly.  It wasn’t a demand, yet she felt compelled just the same.

When the last of the party goers had left the building, and the doors were locked, he took her by the hand and lead her deeper into the building, she in tow, nervous but obedient.  She followed meekly into a room with wood walls and he closed the door behind them.  He turned to face her and backed her up into a wall, his thigh between her legs.  He looked down at her, that beautiful face framed in wonderful long flowing red hair, that fell about her shoulders and down into that gorgeous cleavage.  NOW he allowed himself the luxory of drinking in her beauty, of gazing on that wonderful cleavage.  She breathed heavy now, completely drunk in her submission. No words were exchanged.  She understood as he did, that they were two of a kind, each in their own way.

So it was that when he pressed ever so gently on her shoulders, she instantly fell to her knees, knowing his wordless desire, and was willing to obey.  She removed his cock. Her submission alone had made it hard and throbbing , and she took him into her mouth.  In that moment, as her lips closed in delicious submission to his pleasure, he knew as she did, that she was his to command.  He let her feel him, taste him, and reveled in feeling of having this woman on her knees before him.

It is odd that there was no discussion, no negotiation, no reaching of an understanding.  So sure of their desires were they, that words were not needed. He pulled her up to him, his mouth now hungry for hers.  He tasted her lips, her tongue, as he pressed her once more to the wall.  He cupped her breasts, full hands, which sought through the material of her dress and bra for hard nipples underneath.

One hand stole under her dress.  Her panties were soaked with the excitement of this encounter.  He understood now he must make her his.  One last time against the wall, with a handful of hair and soft kisses at her neck he pressed against her, then lead her to a nearby desk by the grip on her hair.  He pressed her head forward, driving her over the desk, lead by his grip on her hair.  He released her and now she lay before him, her breasts pressed against the wood of the desk, her back rising with heavy breaths, and her ass held high by those long shapely legs.

Her skirt rode up high in the move, giving him the smallest glimpse of wet panties over her perfect mound.  He paused, letting her feel her submission, her exposure, letting her feel cool air on her wetness.  He paused to admire the perfection of her lines, the way her thighs and ass cheeks met, and framed the dripping  sex he would soon possess. In spite of his hunger, he paused to make her feel the choice, her choice, to continue this dance or not.

What went through her head as she stayed frozen there with her breasts pressed against the desk?  What did she feel with her ass  exposed to him,  her sex freely offered to do with as he pleased?  Perhaps she felt fear mingled with excitement, or maybe just excitement at the thought of the control this man had over her. Whatever she thought, she did not move.  She remained frozen in place for his use.  Breathless, she awaited for his continued pleasure to take her.

She didn’t turn to look at him, but closed her eyes, blind and waiting in her personal darkness for the feel of his touch.   She waited for him to use her.  She waited, lost in the darkness of her unconditional surrender, freely giving of her body anything his pleasure would take from her, and he smiled at that.  He touched her and she breathed deeper, her knees trembled and buckled ever so slightly.

He trailed a hand up her thighs, under her skirt and then knelt to better appreciate that which he would now take.  As he slowed pulled her panties down, to reveal her wet and waiting womanhood, crowned by a small tuft of red hair, she moaned softly in anticipation.  She smelled wonderful.  He gently bit her ass, then licked and sucked at her clit, mixing little bits of pleasure and pain.  A gasp escaped her lips and she grasped the edge of the desk harder, fairly trembling now.

It is hard to say which was more drunk with lust in that moment. He with his throbbing need to be inside her,  to feel the grip of her wetness around him.  Or she driven mad by the slow conquest of her being, the need to feel him take her completely.  He stood suddenly, decisively, his cock already out, wet from her mouth.  He slide the head ever so softly between the her lips, wetting himself further with her juices.

He slid into her ever so slowly, at first, lips wet with anticipation parting to hold him.  Eyes closed, ever fiber of her being attended to the sensation of that penetration, of her grip on him, as his irresistible force met the movable object of her being.  With an unexpected change, he thrust suddenly into her, and she gasped.  He buried deep, his hardness penetrating her deeper than she could ever remember, his pelvic bone grinding into her, seeking to go deeper still, and she felt the last vestiges of self control leave her.  The moment was ecstasy unleashed, her tight wet grip, pliable and yielding to the hard and throbbing domination that slide into her, as he took her utterly and completely.

It was the first and last penetration, the alpha an omega, the crumbling and making of her world.  She was his completely, the two made one.  It was the first of many a dangerous encounter, sexual adventures in places partly public.  There is a thing about power and attraction.  Ideally, we move slowly, taking our time as we get to know another person.  And sometimes we are overcome by the momentum of a moment.  We succumb to dangerous desires,  as both Dominant and submissive.  It is not important if we are impulsive or not, if we succumb to the lust of the moment or not.  What is important is that we make good choices, ones that we can live with later.  Not long later I wrote this:

I have found, that almost every submissive has a secret key locked away in her heart and her mind, begging to be found. Any master can have her pleasures, but only a great Master can find the key, and when he does, she comes undone, but is forever more, held in the grip of the man that set her free. Given time, that Master is usually me. ~Xtac Quote

Carped Diem my friends, and a merry kinky Christmas!

A side note:  This happened in what we might call the golden age of sex, when one night stands were common – before aids and herpes where known.  This was a time when a shot of penicillin would cure any STD out there. Today, reality dictates we are much more cautious in our trysts.  I often wonder where the sexual revolution would have taken us, had these diseases never happened?  Also, this was before Izrina.  I have been this way as long as I can remember.

No Excuses

I say this all the time but it bears repeating.. its the little things that are such a huge part of my satisfaction with my Master slave relation.

A gentleman hit my car recently, then proceeded to direct a lot of hostility towards me.  For me, this was an unwillingness to accept responsibility, a desire to blame someone or something else.

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

When you screw up, sometimes you have to fall on your sword.  In other words, you have to be willing to accept your failure, and any pain and suffering that comes with owning up to it.  I become very unhappy with persons who present excuses and likewise, I am very forgiving for a person who shows they can own their actions.

So, X, you are probably wondering: Where are you going with this meandering? eh?

Well first, I could be upset about this mess my car is in.  It will be a major inconvenience, and a reduction in resale value and certainly cost me time and money I don’t want to spend on it.. but I would rather be happy.. so I choose to be.  Instead I am loving the simple interactions with my slave. Tonight, a simple thing is pleasing me immensely, especially after my run in with the afore mentioned hostility. Where we focus, plays a huge role in our happiness.

In public, my slave is very good with her protocols.  One protocol requires that as soon as I finish a plate of food, she take the plate away and put it under hers.   If you sit at a table with me, you will find I am always taking table real estate.. pushing salt, pepper and napkin holders back, to clear a larger area for myself.  It is just one more of my little Domination quirks.  And of course my protocols support that.  So tonight, after finishing a meal at home, a plate was not removed.  It was turkey tetrazzini by the way.. I do love that meal.  I would recommend you try the Stoffers brand and if you like it, then try a scratch made version.

So I asked Izrina:  Do you think that the protocols you do in public, you should also do at home?   She had finished sooner and now looked up from a suduko puzzle she was working on.  She looked around, trying to figure out what she had missed.  It took her only a second to realize where I was headed with this.  The empty plate quickly vanished.

No excuses made, just a quick acceptance of the way we are.  No anger at herself, that might be redirected at me.  Just Master and slave, doing their thing.  I love that she attends to me, and is fast to respond to my desires. Was I angry that a protocol had to be reminded?  Of course not.  I was enough that she sheeplishly, and submissively corrected the oversight.  She fell on her sword, and hoped for the best outcome.. and got it.

And she?  Does she love this?  Hmmm.  Yes.  It makes family uncomfortable when I order her, use her, but her eyes light up, and she fairly purrs afterward, when its time to curl up at Master’s feet.  Equity of exchange.  The trust she offers is exactly the right thing to exchange for my gift of Domination.  I wonder sometimes what jems I could offer to help others find this happiness?

Is it just finding the right person, or is it a philosophy and way of life that facilitates this, or maybe its a little of both?  Both I think.  Opportunity is nothing without the will and ability to capitalize, and visa-versa.   I wish more people could have this, feel this.   I understand that a TPE or CNC life is not for everyone, but it certainly is the key to MY happiness.. and to that of my slave.  Life is truly good my friends, Carpe Diem!

Evil Doms

This is titled “Evil Doms” but it might also be titled “Snow storms and slaves, part 2”.  Part one is here.    There are a few ex-lover types out there, and you may recognize them..

One type makes you feel wonderful about yourself.  They are complimentary, and love everything about you.. they make you feel attractive and in return, because you feel so wonderful when you are around them,  you can not help but love them.  But they are calculating like an evil Dom or Domme.  They know how to make you feel wonderful about yourself, and they do it for as long as you are useful, and desired.  But because they are also uncaring in their calculations.  When something better makes itself available, you will dropped like last week stinky garbage.  The new object of desire gets their attention and too late you realize it was all empty flattery – but it was so sweet – you would go back if you could.

And another type is the fuck buddy.  Now there is nothing wrong with a fuck buddy if that is what you want.  But again, it is the rare person who holds a poly together well without attaching strings to the deal.  When a calculating person convinces you that you want sex, and they want sex, and there is no harm in a pleasant exchange, that can go well.  But if your life changes, and you try to pull out of the arrangement, the evil side can rear its ugly head and the calculating side begins to pull strings to sabotage whatever stands in the way… or worse… they turn up the heat on a person who has a hard time saying no to the point of forcing themselves on you.  They may not even accept consent as a requirement for sex.

Many of us have these types in our past.  I take care to shield Izrina from some of these types, but I can’t do it on nights like this.  Yeah, my fears came to past.  A couple of guys dropped in on the girls for some storm night drinking at the ranch.

A while ago, I bought Izrina a flashlight.  It’s completely functional,  but with a twist.  It also doubles as a stun gun.  Jam the end of it into an attacker, pull the correct trigger, and the threat is neutralized.  She didn’t have it with her tonight.  I wish she did.  Bugs me that my gut had this one pegged right, and I didn’t listen to it.

Nothing happened.  Izrina has been trained to report anything I might be interested in, setting aside a portion of her brain as a guardian working on behalf of Master.  I got the info I needed for tonight.  I’ll get the full details tomorrow night.  Dammit.  I feel torn between the feeling I let her down, and the feeling that she is big girl and needs to sometimes take care of herself if someone gets pushy.

I am not being rational right now.  I would wager every one of us has had at least one person in our past that betrayed a trust.  After that happens,  you never quite look at the trust you place in a partner, quite the same.   You can be honest, and direct, and it still doesn’t matter because it seems that everyone is vulnerable at some point in their life.  Everyone at some point makes a choice they wish they had not.  So you question if the person you are with, will have that weak moment with you.. and you base this thought on a past you wish you could let go of, but can’t.

The fact is, there are Dom like people out there that are evil.  Maybe even sociopaths.  They know the buttons to push, and are not afraid to push them to get what they want.  They may not call themselves Doms, but sometimes they do.

Let me be clear about the title.  Not all Doms are actually what we would want a Dom to be, and not all nillas are free of Dom aspects.  Some nilla people are total Doms, they just don’t know anyone in the life style, and never had anyone point out the being  Dom is OK as long as you remove some behaviors.  I know a few people who know nothing of BDSM, and yet these people are very Dominant with their partners. One is a close friend.  He doesn’t want to think of himself as “kinky” and doesn’t want to talk about it. Problem is, being a Dom without understanding it, may make you a border line abuser.  You both have to talk, and negotiate, and understand what you both get out of it, and most importantly, agree to consent.  Then there are people from the past that I won’t go into.

The key difference about a real Dom is that a real Dom is looking for an equitable exchange.. one that both of you find pleasurable.. and they are honest and trustworthy.   The same can be said for slaves.  Nothing is more important than trust.  Its the foundation of your relation.   Shatter that one too many times, and a person becomes damaged goods.. no matter how rational, intelligent, and caring a person may be.  One side of you will always want to treat a new partner as a clean slate, and another side of you will always see the human weakness that has soiled your past – and constantly worry for the future.  Trust shattered is bad.

The world could use a lot fewer people plying the tools of a Dominant, for their own selfish desires.

Snow storms and slaves

Snow storms are relative.   In some Southern states, 3 inchs of snow brings a city to a halt; as well it should when you don’t have snow removal equipment.  I assume in some Canadian towns, no one even bats an eye until the snow is half way up the tires.  Here, it depends on who you are.  Me.. I go out in all kinds of weather.  Other folks, no so much.

We were hearing that there was a fair size storm coming.. six inches or more – that’s fifteen centimeters if you prefer..  So I won’t see my slave tonight.  I’m kinda grumpy about that.

Her work put her up for then night.  Seems like a generous thing to do.  Here is the catch, if you don’t take them up on the offer..then you are not allowed any excuse what so ever for not showing up the next day.  It kind of a “Godfather offer”… You know.. the kind you can’t refuse.  They have extra rooms, it doesn’t cost them anything, and you can save gas, plus stay safe.. Unless of course you have a cranky Master at home.

Of course I want my slave safe, and staying with the girls at the ranch overnight in a storm can be kind of a fun adventure… but I love my control too much to be really happy about this.  There are male ranchers too of course, and I am not fond of the idea of her mixing alcohol with testosterone, especially when I am not around.  Showing a little lack of trust here I admit.  In my defense, there are many variables at work here, which of course brings me back to a lack of control over this situation.

Of course if I was really worried, I’d drive the two hours round trip tonight to get her, and the two hours round trip to take her back before the sun came up, but I’m just not that crazy.  So I have to put up or shut up.  I don’t like any of these choices.  Freaking snow storms..  bet we only get three inches..that’s 7cm to the rest of the world.   When the hell is the US going to crack that nut and finally go metric anyway?   Why am I working myself up over the metric system?   Bah… I’m just in a cranky mood.   See how fast my perfect little world comes unraveled?    Bored, and cranky.   Ah well.. the snow is pretty..   Maybe I’ll go for a walk in it…   before I have to shovel it..

A strong will

Jian Ghomeshi won his appeal.  His lawyer, a woman, is now being threatened with losing speaking engagements.  Her presence is a little too strong.. After reading a few news articles, I wrote this:

If you advocate change, you do it by changing laws, and you start preparing to change laws by listening to your opponents. Insisting opposing views be silenced and going to counselors for therapy if things don’t go your way, is counter productive to your desired outcome.

I explained all that, because if I just came out with that quote, you might think I was speaking of the US election.  I was not.. but the same holds true.

This is very much why some religious folks turn me off.. the idea that everything that God said in a religious text is true and they have an absolute moral imperative to hate on the non-believers, is part of what is destroying us from within.  What started as a hippy-counter culture-movement to greater love and appreciation for the dignity of our fellow men is devolving.

Being sensitive does not entitle you to hate on the insensitive. ~ Xtac Quote!!

Love and peace is great until we start to feel a level of moral superiority and then the slippery slope to absolute evil and suppression starts.  The very notion of “hate crimes” scares the hell out of me.  We can now pass judgement on a persons thoughts and prosecute for that?  Shouldn’t their actions be the only reason to prosecute?

Think about it.. Free people just want to be left alone and want to leave you alone as well.  The philosophy is, your business is your business.  The more we muck around in other people’s thinking, the more entitlements and evil we insist on “for the common good”. Action my friends, is the only truth.  Prosecute people for what they do to you, not for what they think or didn’t do for you.  Freedom is nothing, and yet it opens your world to every possibility.  That’s a scary proposition, but one any Dominant will embrace.  Wow!

Just wow… I think in my kicking around this sticking point, I just hit on a problem vexing the world forever.   Maybe Aristotle had it right after all.  Part of society is comprised of Dominants that want total control over all aspects of their life without intervention and part of society is comprised of persons that want to be shielded and cared for, and that is the basis for all of our basic conflicts in fundamental thinking regarding the ideal form of government.  Democracy puts these two basic needs in conflict.  So we experiment with fascism and representational government.  Now there is a thought to chew on.  My mind is on fire.


I was getting ready to head out and Izrina began to put on her coat.  Her car was parked a bit away and she was clearly thinking that if I was leaving, I could drop her at her car.

I simply HATE topping from the bottom, and I hate when my slave assumes that I will do something before she has asked.  Here is why.

AFTER she has put her coat on, if she THEN asks if I’ll take her, the good guy in me has this feeling like I have no choice but to make her happy.  But the Master in me wants to prove I am in charge and is inclined to say no, even if I might have been happy to do this favor.  For the Master in me, now it has become less about what I would do and more about showing that I will make the decisions. I simply won’t be topped from the bottom.

So I said, you appear to think I will drop you off at your car.  And she said, “Do what ever pleases you Master.”

Have I mentioned I love this girl?   I thought about it for a moment.  It WOULD please me to drop her off.  It would please me to open the car door for her, and to see her safely to her car.  Now I was only a little frustrated.  I needed to convey that I wouldn’t be topped from the bottom.  But she clearly would accept  any decision I made.  How can you fight with that?  You can’t.  Take a note.. Always getting your way can sometimes cause a short circuit in your brain.

So I explained the turmoil she created by putting on her coat before asking, and I explained how she defused it by the way she replied, and I made it clear that she should not expect to get every thing she asks for.  The only frustration remaining was that her reply told me she already knew this.  That of course leads me right back to testing if she really would accept any decision “because it pleased me”.  And why should I have to do what doesn’t please me, just to test if she accepts the decision?  Better if we skip these things and never imply an outcome is anticipated – but – that really was a good reply.

The little minx knows me too well. I think she is starting to anticipate and read me as well as I have read her all these years.  We are becoming like a well oiled machine whose gears mesh perfectly, each complimenting the other in pleasing ways.

So there you have it dear readers, some insight into a very brief but deep exchange that is all just a moment in the 24×7 existence that can be yours, if you make the dream reality. I suppressed the desire to spank her on the spot and showed her to the car. That Ds quickie just made me horny.   Life is truly good.  Carpe Diem my friends…. go make a great day!

Weakness, Conflicted

Its been nearly two weeks since my last post.  Thanksgiving travel is behind me and the day-to-day routines have returned.  Thanksgiving was nice.  My daughter traveled some five hours from one direction, and I traveled five hours from another, and we met at my sister’s for our traditional family get together for the Holiday.  Except the whole family doesn’t participate.. in fighting..  I’ll leave it at that.  Blood does not a family make.

My daughter and all of her friends are at college now, save one, who is going to college locally.  She asked to join me this year.  When she was younger, she would often come with us, two young girls in the back seat as we made the long drive.  We would stop along the way, more interested in having adventures than making some self imposed deadline.

Now she is eighteen, and it was somewhat odd to have this young lady who is nearly a daughter to me, in the front seat chatting away.  Her views are quite liberal, and we had many a spirited discussion.  At one point we traveled through two states and I didn’t even notice it.  She tends to dress in black, and chains and never wears a dress.  She wants to be a Dominant some day.

Everyone dresses up for the Thanksgiving meal, but the next day when she came out in dress (again), I blurted out “what are you wearing?”.   “Fuck you”, she said and closed her door.  I thought about it.  She caught me off guard.  She has always been gender neutral,  so it never occurred to me that she might want to be “pretty”.  I apologized.  Its odd.. I think she talks more candidly with me than anyone (except maybe my daughter), and yet I still don’t know if she likes boys or girls or both or neither.  I don’t think she knows.  I do know she definitely wants a slave-male or female.  That idea makes her smile.

Anyway, the trip is behind us, I am caught up on work, and now a cold has set in.  I got the flu shot so I don’t expect it to last long.  You know when you feel like crap, and you can’t breath, and when you cough it feels like your head will explode, so you try not to cough but have to, so you go back and forth between weazing and feeling your head explode?  Yeah, that’s the one I have.  I just wanted to fall asleep until it was over.  I was not good company, and no use at work.  This is where the title for this blog comes in.

I hate feeling weak.  Normally I refuse to give into to any weakness.  But there are times when your body needs rest and you should indulge it.  Normally when I am sick, I work, until my day is done and go straight home and straight to bed to try to get twelve hours sleep.  I repeat as needed.  Not this time.  It was all I could do to focus.  I was OK with allowing this weakness, of not pushing through it.  Then Izrina came home and began to care for me.  I was a Happy Master.   I got past my guilt of allowing this weakness.

Izrina however has reoccurring pain from a few teeth that should be pulled and because of complicated reasons, can’t be.  So every six months or so, she has these fits of pain.  Well in the middle of my “weakness”, she had one of those episodes.  I had just made peace with the notion of not going to work and now my slave needs me.  But I need to sleep and I mean really, really, need to sleep.  Dammit!   This is a lose-lose situation.  If I do stay up to comfort, my own health degrades while doing little to really help the situation.  If I do not stay up to comfort, I am being a terrible Master and the guilt I feel is quite strong.  So I am conflicted.  Weakness and conflicted, not good.

The harsh reality is that the best I can do is make sure she has an appointment with a dentist, and is taking pain meds at regular intervals.  There is a trick when normal pain meds won’t do the job.  You switch between two kinds of over the counter pain meds.

Lets say you have acetaminophen and ibuprofen, each of which should be taken every four hours.  You take your acetaminophen and two hours later you take your ibuprofen.  After that you take acetaminophen four hours after the last dose as recommended, and the same for ibuprofen, but you are actually taking a pain med once every two hours.  When my daughter was just two, and had a sustained fever of 104 for quite some time, we took her to the hospital and that is when I learned that trick.  Obviously you reserve such measures for serious occasions, but it does work quite well for short bouts of extreme pain.

What was my choice, you not doubt are wondering?   Did I stay up or go to sleep?  It was to get the rest I needed.  Izrina was constantly up getting more pain meds and it was hard to sleep, but we made the best of it.  When both of us have issues at the same time it is not a good thing.  At one point, she was curled up under my arm, and she began to cry from the pain.   Softly, because she didn’t want to wake me.   You can imagine how much that tore me up inside.

It would have been a wonderful thing to write about, if I had needed her support and she had been there for me in my hour of need.  Instead, we leaned on each other, neither quite up to the task and yet still coming together, like to war-weary soldiers wounded but keeping each other going.  Actually, this is something to be proud of in its own way.  My first thought had been that at times the support goes the other way, but really, when two people work to make a life together they never stop supporting each other no matter the challenges.  That should be the take-away from this.  The Master and slave relation should not interfere with the basic need to have someone who loves and cares for you.  Rather is should amplify and improve on it.

Izrina is now and always will be a slave in her heart.  I am her Master.  Sometimes I am human, and my strength to overcome the weakness of this body defeats my desire to always be strong.  But my will does not change, nor does hers.  We will always seek to be a Master and a slave, and we will always seek to support each other within our sacred roles. If the lines get blurred sometimes, you can chalk that up to the fact that no truth is ever simple nor black and white.  Such views are for the lazy of mind, and sheep.

She is off to work, has an appointment, and has her meds.  If the dentist can’t pull those teeth, maybe a root canal can be done so there are no nerves left to cause these issues.  There has to be a solution.  I am getting involved in the next visit.

All of this aside, I am encouraged by the days events.  If you have your health, you have everything.  Believe it.  Carpe Diem my friends.  Go make a great day!

“This slave”

I got a text, it read:

“This slave needs a nap”

Because I tend to reflect on every aspect of my Master/slave relation, this short sentence is fodder for a blog.

At first, the nilla side of me noticed the third person speech, and flinched at the raw objectification.  But she IS an object, albeit a very valued one, but an object none-the-less that I possess for my use.  Izrina talks in third person, because she is property, because she is not allowed to say “my Master” or “my anything”.  She talks of herself as an object, because I am crafting a mindset that is not for some, uncomfortable for others.

Almost as quickly, the Dominant side countered with: “Of course she speaks in third person. That is how the mindset is created.”  It is through words and actions that we create the conditions where that which we desire is comfortable, and normal.  It is through our daily exchanges, that we sometimes forget that others do not share this love or mindset.  In fact, shifting between nilla and Ms thinking can be awkward at times.

And then the Master in me judged my accomplishments with this slave.   The things she did without thought now, the things that needed reminding.  I  thought of the many reflections, like this one I was undertaking now.  I thought of the dozens of adjustments to my style, to the manner in which I brought forth my canvas, my creation, she who would be my perfect slave.

And then my all too human side thought…. God, I don’t ever want to go through all that training again.  Not when I have right here the perfect slave for me.  I grinned at that, and was so amused, I shared it with her later.  Partly because I know it would reassure her to know she is perfect for me, and partly because she needs to know that it is no accident – that it takes work to get to this point, and partly because when she realizes the first two things, she could worry less about what it would take to lose me.

Some slaves may worry about being perfect.  I find that to be normal.  But it is the Master’s place, honor and privilege to decide if a slave is “worthy”.  No slave should presume to make such a decision for an owner.  It is enough to trust, so that the owner may shoulder the decisions and worry.  Getting to the point beyond worry, where you both are comfortable and happy, takes a lot of work, and that too is normal.  Izrina knows that she may not punish herself, that too is my privilege.  There is so much to learn and unlearn. Izrina knows all this but still needs reassurance from time to time.

We have so many protocols, rituals, and rules, but collectively they shape our lives… both our lives, and we are much happier to live this way.  It took me quite a while to find the right material from which I could create this slave.  It is not always an easy thing to do, to find someone who compliments you, but I wish you all, the very best of luck in that search.   I can say this.  It is worth the patience and effort.  Carpe Diem my friends,  Make a great day!