Ye Old “MY Master”

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

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

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


“What is thy bidding my Master”


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


When CNC becomes just NC

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carpe Diem, my friends. Be someones great day!

Honestly, an elderly uncle

I have family.  So who doesn’t?  I find myself an odd mix of both disliking people and loving to be the center of attention.   Perhaps it just that I dislike feeling like I have answers so few others see or agree with, so it frustrates me.

My real family is in the BDSM community.  My blood family are like strangers.  Some I like, some I don’t care to associate with, but virtually none do I have in my core circle of friends.  Of the relatives I like, one is an elderly Uncle.

He is a man’s man.  He is a camper, and outdoors man,  He can live off the land.  He’s made mistakes eating the wrong mushrooms, but he’s also quick to find food where you see none.  He’s a hunter, an artist, a guitar player, and a cigar smoker.  His wit is sharp and his smile and laugh constant.  He runs his house.  He is a product of the 1950s.

His first and only wife dotes on him.  She is less talkative.  She takes her lead from him.  They own a VW camper and still use it.  I think she would prefer a hotel but he is in charge.  Truth be told, he thinks he is, and this is where the tale turns to a cautionary one for all Dominants.

His wife controls the flow of information to him.  She shields him from bad news.  The kids funnel news through her while he putters and does his thing.  When they have bad news she shields the kids from it.  She doesn’t let them worry about their father.  She cares for him but in a sense, she is really in control.  When you control information, you control everything.

The sheep who blindly believe every bit of news presented, prove that.  You must always question every detail of every story, because everyone around you is retelling what they know, or what they want you to know, not what is.  There is a disturbing trend of getting our news only from those we agree with.. not good.

So now we come to the BDSM part of this.  It is nice to have a slave that takes care of your needs, who comforts and shields you.  A doting slave is a pleasure.  But a slave can also be silently in control and unless you are cognizant, you will miss this fact.

This situation is natural.  As a Dominant, you are in control.  You exercise this through careful thought,  Being human you sometimes become annoyed.  Then you are putting forth negative vibes and your slave is going to want that to stop.  They will do things to make it stop.

Your displeasure is a whip that cuts to the soul of a slave.  This can be a tool but it must never be used without careful thought.  It should therefore go without saying that should never loose your temper.  That is really bad. When you lose control of yourself, you lose control of your slave.  You control a slave by being a steady unmovable rock, not by outbursts.

Your slave is going to love certain aspects of your domination.. the sex obviously.. and possibly the mind games.   But other aspects not so much.  The insistence they stop what they like to do and start chores is one example of how you become no fun.

You are your slaves conscience, telling them to do what they know they should be doing.  Unlike their conscience however, they can not ignore you.. so there can be minor resentment.  Of course completing a task leads to the satisfaction of achievement and once realized, there can be a grudging love for your dominance in spite of of it all.

Every slave is going to have a little calculating in them to see what they can change.  What they can change is never your orders.  They can try to prevent you from giving orders by pouting and other means.  What they can change is the information they give and how they give it.  Therein lies the need to be one step ahead.

Like my uncle, a man’s man who is the king of his castle, you may feel in charge but you have to always question if this is true.  I am sure there are very success relations where the slave knows that they can outwit their Master and enjoys it.. maybe not consciously but on some level.

I on the other hand feel repulsed by the idea.  It runs counter to what I think a slave should be and feel.   To my mind, a slave should draw comfort from the strength of a Master, and know that every command is meant to bring pleasure to the Master or to make the slave better in some way.

Pleasing the Master feeds the need to serve others, while betterment is a grudging pleasure.  The mindset of a slave,  driven to please,  enamored with the strength and tuff love,  is one that leaves no room for beating the Master at his own game, at least as I see it.

That is not to say that a slave doesn’t occasionally get over on a Master.  It happens.  We are human.   We will from time to time not anticipate, or misunderstand.. and there it is again.. the need for information.   Information, data, it is key to control.  You have to suppress your Master need to talk, and be the center.  With your slave you have to find time to be silent and listen.  This is important so let me repeat.  You have to be silent and listen.  You need to get deeper inside your slave than anyone before.  You need to nurture an environment where they speak free and easy.

What my aunt does is wrong.   Withholding information does more than retard control.  It is a form of lying.  Certainly not as bad as telling a bold faced lie, but it is a grey area..  It is something we do with those we do not trust.  You have a right to protect yourself.   You shouldn’t give your enemies information they can use against you.

It is OK to withhold information from someone who would harm you.  But someone you love shouldn’t harm you.  Someone you trust, you must trust completely.   It is hard to open ourselves to another, to tell them everything.  This is what you must do however.  More importantly, it is something you need your slave to do. This comes with a risk.

To have someone in which you can confide is a rare blessing but it is a dangerous gamble.  Someone who loves and cares for you even after knowing all your darkest thoughts and moments is what you need to achieve.   Getting may destroy what you already have but consider this.. if you can not love a person for who they truly are.. did you ever really love the real person at all?  The way takes patience, forgiveness, and above all, total honesty.

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



Another munch – with an evil bastard

When you are first looking for kinky people it doesn’t matter how young or old you are, just dipping your toe into the kink community can make you nervous.  After a few years t becomes almost humorous thinking back on it.  Watching the people at their first munch and being much further down the road, you know the pattern you are going to see and you can even get a vicarious thrill sharing in all of the discoveries they will make.

If you have the opportunity to watch a toddler you can’t help but smile at the constant fascination with everything because literally everything is new. Your own perspective is adjusted, and you are warmed by this.  So too, new community members are wonderful to be around.

Without newbies, its just another dinner with good friends.  A warm social gathering in which kink doesn’t need to be the focus of your conversation because we all know each other and our various inclinations.   Some like myself are drawn to TPE while others have a lifelong love of rope, or still others are looking to dive deeper into their sado-masochist selves.

So I take Izrina to munches and we share with old friends and make new ones.  We have three steady events every month.  The first Friday is LOL, or Love Of Leather.  Formed by a leader who has since passed on, this group has moved far beyond just leather.  Then there is the second Friday of every month and that is Pike Co NEPA.   Its a relatively small group.  If you regularly attend munches you will notice that attendance swells and dwindles from time to time.

Dungeon membership is the same.  There are always the newbies, eager to try everything, showing up everywhere and then disappearing again.  Some surface again and others do not.  I often wonder if BDSM was a passing fancy or if they just settled into a comfortable long term relation and no longer needed company.

Then of course is the House of X DAsT meeting every third Sunday.  We have not seen much in the way of attendance but Izrina and I still purchase a few Pizza pies and put out the sign at the top of the driveway.  We’ll do this indefinitely and hopefully  build a group of our own.  I truly would like to be a community resource but I am new to the area and we’ll see.

Plus there is always drama in every community so I would prefer to build a small trusted core than treat this like a commercial venture.  Like my blog, it is more about staying true to myself than what I achieve.

This past Friday was the second and so that meant NEPA.  We met a nice couple  Two women who were just getting started.  The talkative one I took to be the Dom but when I asked it was the quiet one who was in charge… interesting… it is often the other way around with the Dom leading a shy and reclusive subby.

There was a gentleman who was looking to change the direction he traveled to be with community because of issues with his old community.  He had opened his home for play and stuff went missing.  It happens.  Best you can do is keep your valuables in a locked room when you open your home to parties.  When he confronted the party that logically were the culprits, it didn’t go well.  Now there is tension.

The highlight though of my evening was torturing Izrina in public.  We didn’t get our plates until 8pm and she was starving.  Our protocol requires her to feed me a bite of her food and we have a code that tells her she can start eating.   That code is for me to say the bite was delicious.  If I say anything else, she has to feed me another bite and so on.  Its a little game I play with protocol and how I torture her in plain sight with no one knowing I’m doing it.

The group had a large turn out and we had five tables pressed together with Izrina and I at one end.  When the food arrived I got up to make my rounds, shaking hands and saying good evening.   Izrina waited patiently at the far end.  Now I could have shared with her that I intended to torture her but its more fun to watch her trying to decide if I forgot her or not.

Then I took a seat at the opposite end and began a spirited discussion with the folks there.  Now she leaned forward and fixed an evil eye on me, glaring down the entire length of the table.  I mentioned to the folks I was speaking with that Izrina looked very unhappy at which time about half the table suddenly warmed up to what I was doing.  I waved at her.

Now she knew I was torturing her and had not forgotten her.  She glared the more.  Faces at the table looked at Izrina and then to me and back at her.  Finally I called down the length of the table.. Hungry? I asked… Yes, she replied.  Well it looks delicious, I said.  She took this as her queue and dived in while those in the know had a good chuckle.  The lady next to me said.. You are a evil bastard.  Thank you, I said with a smile.  And proud of it.

Later at home I told Izrina that torturing her in public had been the highlight of my evening.  She smiled.  She knows how I love my little games.

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


On the way to Kinky, life happens

There are some disturbing trends lately, like having a low opinion of the value of hard work, education, and the pursuit of knowledge.  Perhaps that also explains the rejection by many of elderly advice…  But listen up if you are new to BDSM because this is something you only learn by living it for some time….

There is a thing.. its called slave frenzy, but truth be told Doms get it too.  Perhaps you are young and just really really horny for all that yummy kinky sex coupled with BDSM naughtiness.  Or maybe you spent a lifetime convinced there was something wrong with your wicked fantasies… only to discover there are people who think you are normal.  It doesn’t matter your age.  What matters is you are new to BDSM.

Suddenly there is so much living to pack in and you can’t get enough… You want to try it all.  You go to munches, and workshops, and play parties, and major events.. You are living a dream and it is all hot, hot, hot.   Maybe you are married and you realize you want this, and you are trying to figure out if you can bring in your spouse or if you need a divorce.  You need to live this life, 24×7, and its a driving force in your life.

BDSM is a journey and we are all on that highway together.  Some of us have the pedal to the metal and are gunning down the road… we’ve all been there.  But a funny thing happens along the way.. its called life.

Life is filled with jobs, and bosses, and bills and house work.  And even when you arrive at your dream.. a house with a Dom or slave or slaves..  there is that thing about how you keep things new, fresh, exciting.

A Dom once said that after a while, having two naked women doing my every bidding day and night eventually loses its charm.. its still nice but its not exciting like it used to be.  (He took a beating in the comments to him on that one, but he was right).

Every day I have a slave by my side.  She is often naked, available for my use in any way I please.   I can beat her, fuck her or order her to give me oral service.  I can send her to bring me a snack or to refill my drink..  Its not kinky.. its every day life for us..

Mom came for lunch, and when her coffee ran out she handed the cup to me and asked for more.  I handed it to Izrina and ordered her to refill it.  Izrina took the cup and trotted off to the kitchen like a good girl, while Mom just raised an eyebrow…  I don’t even think about IF I’ll order something, I just do.

Now I won’t go so far as to say BDSM has lost its charm.  I love my slave.  This is the best life ever.   But on another level its just life.   We eat, and sleep.  We work around the house. I look for opportunities to make her call me WEM.   Its just life… and life is good.

Carpe Diem my Friends, be someone’s great day!

Feeling ten feet tall…

This morning as I walked to my car with my laptop over my shoulder, I was feeling ten feet tall.  It was an incredibly insignificant small thing that felt huge.  Sometimes its the little things that count the most.  Let me set this up for you…

Things have really been coming together quite nicely lately.  It wasn’t that way, not so long ago.  Today stands in stark contrast to how its been for me in many previous years.

The house and grounds have really been coming together nicely.  We hosted the final collaring for my slave, we had wonderful friends from near and far at our side, we received blessings from really terrific community members, and we had our first HOX event.  Life is pretty good!

I need to start by mentioning that Izrina has many rules and protocols but she has only three rituals… and one happens every morning.  It is the consent ritual.   Each day we reaffirm that ours is a consensual domination, held together by love, trust, and consent.

It was a typical morning.. I had checked on the status of all things work related, shut down my laptop and was preparing to leave when Izrina started the consent ritual.  I was distracted by my preparations and gave a response without my full focus.. and when I realized this I asked her to wait.

She had prepared my coffee in my travel mug, and a lunch for my day and stood with these waiting.  My laptop bag now over my shoulder I took her face into both hands, gave her a long kiss and then touched foreheads as I told her how pleased I was to offer her the gift of my domination, and to find someone who wanted this as much as I did.

And then as I turned towards the door I said: ” I’m off to make more money so our dreams can grow”.   It was now in this moment as I walked to the car that I was struck with a sense of overwhelming joy.  Life may not be perfect but in that instant, all was right in my world.

I am king of my castle, to be a chateau someday.  I do provide.  I do nurture, guide and love my most prized possession – Izrina.  But more than that, our shared dream of being a community resource was coming together as each little project made the house and grounds nicer.

And here was I, Master of this domain, the tools of my trade on my shoulder.. a coffee and lunch prepared by my pet in hand, going forth to another day..  Just one of the many things I do to bring a dream to reality.  My cup was running over… and it was at that moment that I was humbled and yet could not shake the feeling of being a ten foot tall giant striding into the yard.  Life is good!


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



You’re what? Oh really?

Growing up, my mother never had a career.  Hell, she didn’t even have a part time job.  Neither did all of my friend’s moms.   Coming out of the 1950’s, industry was strong and unions were strong and it was entirely possible for a guy to hold one job and still feed the whole family.

There is an appeal to the 1950’s housewife style of Ds relations.  It dovetails nicely with the mindset of a Master who desires to not only control a house, but also desires to nurture, protect, and provide for their prized possession.

A Ds relation needs to work both ways.  The relationship while not equal, needs to be equitable.  What the slave gets in return for their submission needs to be as pleasing as what they give.  Depending on the totality of the dynamic, various slave styles will feel more comfortable.

Baby girls, brats, 1950’s housewife, romantic, property, SAMs.. there are so many ways to think of your Ds.  I like the 1950s style.  I want my girl to only work part time, add some income, but mostly take care of the basic interior work.. laundry, cleaning, cooking.  I tend to like the automotive and outdoor and remodel work.

Those of you who have been reading a while know that my property is also a SAM or smart ass masochist.  One day while we we conversing she hit me with this one.   “Master” she said, I am not really a 1950’s housewifeReally? I said.  Yes, she replied.  A 1950’s housewife doesn’t work.

Sometimes there is a little too much smart in my smart ass.  She has a point though. While the 1950’s housewife typically was supported without having to work, there was a shift in the 60’s.  One thing that stands out in my mind is how much the objectification of women was being called out.  For example airline stewardess wore sexy mini skirts and there was a back lash against it.  Women in the work place starting asking to be more than a secretary, a stewardess, or other eye candy for a business.

By the 1970s many women were starting careers but at home they were still trying to juggle laundry, cleaning, and child care.  The solutions to being both “domestic engineer” and a career woman came in many forms.  A women could “not get into a relation” and put her career first.  Or there was daycare and house  cleaning services.  Notice that the solution rarely included a division of duties.

This was the time when we began to see “latch key kids”.  Children that came home to an empty house and let themselves in.  The “fabric” of the traditional family was slowly and steadily being re-written.  I like the idea of a man or woman staying home for the kids.  It makes more sense to me, but maybe its just that I think kids need more control and support in their lives.

Since today it seems to take two incomes to support a household, I don’t see us easily going back to a time when one income will hold a household together.   The 1970’s house wife had it bad.  She had all the duties of the 1950’s housewife, plus a career.  Izrina doesn’t have to work full time so she’s not a 1970’s housewife either.

I do want her to hold a part time job though, so I guess she’s right.  She’s not a 1950’s housewife, she is somewhere in the middle.  I’ll just call her a 1960’s housewife/slave.


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

HOX and our first DAsT

The first House of X DAsT meeting is behind us and Izrina and I are now looking forward to our next hosted event.  I decided to buy a couple pizza since its fast and easy and nearly everyone loves pizza.

A young Dominant dressed in a leather mini brought Oreos so I had Izrina whip up a pot of coffee.   Then I set out the Baileys Irish cream..  Oreo’s dunked in coffee with a shot of Baileys is just heavenly.

Conversation was all over the map.  I have been to meetings that are very structured but I think I am going to keep theses events much less formal.   It never ceases to amaze me just how nervous some first time participants can be.  I would very much like these DAsT meetings to be something that a newbie feels instantly at home at.

I am also very much looking forward to the time when the House of X is constantly busy with BDSM comings and goings.  I like a busy schedule.

Parking control is going to be a thing and so I’ll have to come up with some more permanent signs than the arrows I taped up on saw horses for this meeting.  The important thing though is that we are up and running and looking forward to be a community resource!

Late night musing

Ever wake up in the middle of the night for no particularly good reason?   Suddenly from a sound sleep you are aware of a stream of consciousness…. thoughts bubbling up like this…

  • What the hell…
  • What time is?
  • 14?  My eyes are too blurry..
  • Must be 2am
  • What the hell am I doing awake?
  • I have to pee
  • Or I could just go back to sleep
  • <Wicked grin>  Or I could wake up Izrina


Sometimes no good reason turns into something good…




And sometimes we just go back to sleep..   Carpe Diem my friends.  Be someone’s great day!