“My Master” and other things bigger than ourselves

My slave is not allowed to utter the words, “My Master”.  I own her.  She does not own me.  Ah…. but how infinitely desirable is it to a slave to be able to speak these words?  How completely bland and tasteless, how abjectly lacking in emotional content is the replacement.. “the Master I serve”?  I slipped the other day and then corrected myself, but it lead to a long reflection on this.

The word “my” conveys so much more than just possession.  It says, this it the one Master for me.  It says this is the Master to whom I have given my devotion, my loyalty, all that I am.  The word “my” carries with it such wonderful gravity of expression..why is that? As I examined this, I realized that this simple pronoun has no replacement and with it came this revelation.

That which we love, we feel we must possess.

This insight reveals a fundamental flaw in our collective thinking.  It says, if you love something, you must conquer it.  I asked.. is there nothing that is greater than us, that conquers us rather than we conquering it?  Is there no suitable replacement in our language that is possessive, but reverses that possession?  This reveals a very basic error in the collective thinking of English speaking people.  It is so ingrained into our thought that we barely are aware that there are things that have all these feelings.. things that we give our devotion, loyalty, and selves to, but which possess us instead …

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 understand that Love is a force of unlimited potential, and that we can be conduits for it, and that it can fill us with more joy than we can bear.. to the point that we can ask the maker to stop… we realize there are things in this life that can possess us.  The sky, nature, beauty.. we are surrounded by thing that if we open our hearts are breathtaking and fill us… yet we do not say.. my sky, my nature, my painting..

My, mine, yours, ours.. this language needs an antonym to the pronoun my..  perhaps sy… something that says this thing possesses me.. rather than I possess it.  Or. That thing possesses you.  Why “sy”?  Well it seems to me that we Masters express our love by possessing it, but a slave expresses love by being possessed. M for my, s for sy.. just throwing it out there.  You’ll have to figure out the other replacements.

It is a shame that our language is so limited, as to not recognize that there is more than one way to express love.  In fact, the slave expression of love is very appealing.. it recognizes that there are things bigger, more grand, greater than ourselves.. and that is important.  Even we Master must bow to this fact.

We as a society need a pronoun that lays the foundations to correct this fundamental flaw in our thinking.  If our language recognized that we can possess, or be possessed, this would lay the foundation for a broader understanding of the really important things in life.  Nor do people always choose to be possessed by the good things.  Some persons become entangled in hatred, allowing it to possess them.  There is a very definite need to understand and express that this.  Possession is not black and white.. It is not simply, I own something or not.  A thing can also possess you.  Be conscious of possession and know this.. if you allow a thing to possess you, let it be for love, not hatred, or covetous feelings.

So there you have it.  Just some of my daily musing on this life as a person who owns a person.  I simply adore my slave.  In our morning ritual, as my slave asked as she does each morning for my Dominance, I stopped her and asked.. why do we do this ritual?  The answer dear readers, is to reaffirm that this is consensual.  Yes, I own her body and mind but she reaffirms each day, her desire to be owned.  It is good that we found each other.  It is good that I am that thing that is bigger, grander, and worthy of giving herself to.  And it is good that she expresses her love in this way, because I must possess that which I love.   We fit, it works, and it is good.  Better than good.. it is freaking wonderful.

Master and slave relations fill a gap where there is a huge hole occupied by a word that doesn’t even exist.  The English language cannot even express “the Master I serve” with a basic pronoun that says this possesses me rather than I possess it.   Master and slave relations are so much more than simple kink.  We are a community of thinking, caring loving people.  We are bold and intelligent people who have much to share with the world.  Small wonder that we express things there are no words for.

Carpe Diem my friends.  Go make the world a better place, as a Master, as a slave, as a thinking, caring person who knows there are things bigger than ourselves.


Slaves and souls

This is one of those spiritual blogs… no hot throbbing juiciness, so if that’s what you are here for, you might want to skip this one.

So, I’ve been sick.  Really sick.  Today, I was struck with the thought of just how much mental acuity I was operating without the past two weeks.

Now there is no better time in my estimation to meditate than when you are sick.  My reason though may surprise you.  When you reach into the purple chakra, and open the third eye and you see that you are not your body, a number of things happen, and one thing in particular that has happened to me is, I want to be able to be this self, no matter what my body does.  In other words, I would like to die, while spiritually conscious and be awake to watch my body die.  Yeah, morbid perhaps for some, but in another sense, what better way to better understand your karma and your self than to finally be able to leave this life awake?

So while I was really, really sick, I meditated and the purple chakra just resisted me.  It didn’t want to open.   Eventually it did, but as I sat there meditating and watching over my body and enjoying this minor victory, I was struck with how this mindset of not seeing your body as yourself is very slave like.. and suddenly I was struck with appreciation for my slave.

When she speaks in third person, she is in effect, adopting a very similar point of reference.  And as I let these experiences wash over me and tasted and relived my many experiences with slaves, I was struck again with the notion that perhaps slaves are better aligned with their spiritual selves than we Masters.

So I turned my focus to the great spiritual leaders of the past and I asked, were these people of the mindset of slaves or Masters?  Take Gandhi or Christ.  Did they crave to be leaders… or did they crave to serve and their followers were a byproduct of this?  A great slave who is also a friend, was thrust into a position of being a Master.. and she felt that she could be a Master AND a slave through service to the community.  Interesting..  Are the great leaders, both political and spiritual like this?

Of course all of this is just finger-painting..  dabbling in meaningless dribble.  Its an intellectual pursuit and we must never forget that the intellect is a trap for true wisdom.  Not that we should not pursue knowledge, but it ultimately leads to us realizing that all the knowledge in the world points out how little we can really define and know things.

Ah well.. it was fun dabbling though, and it brought forth some interesting observations.  Ultimately, we are all slaves and we are all Masters in our way.  These games we play with our bodies are really just meaningless fun.  What really matters is what we hold in our hearts, and those we hold close to ourselves.  Carpe Diem my friends.. Be well, and meditate.

An interesting choice

I was faced with an interesting choice today.   I had a rare break in my day and I could afford a lunch, which means I could have left the office, taken a stroll, had a bite to eat, and de-stressed.

I had plenty of managerial work to do, but my employees are way behind and I wanted to get in the trenches and help with some of the work they are trying to complete.

Now it would please me greatly to see some of the backlog of work be reduced, and I don’t mind giving up my lunch to help, but here is the thing.. and this is going to seem weird perhaps.

If I did use my lunch and knock out some of the work backlog, but then didn’t get to the managerial stuff done, my boss is going to ask me why I didn’t delegate instead of do the work myself.  And If I mention that I used MY time during lunch because it pleased me to pitch in, that is something few people are going to actually believe…. and worse… I might just get the response.. if you want to work on your time, work on your work…

So I sat there pondering…  do I use my lunch time to do work that I want to do to help… or take the time to de-stress because using that time could get me into trouble with my boss?   Odd line of thinking right?  Looking at it now, it seem stupid and obvious that it shouldn’t matter what I do with my time but trust me, I’ve been down this road for so many decades now,  I can anticipate the reactions I am likely to get.

Ultimately, I decided to work on MY work through lunch in the hope of freeing up time at the end of the day, to help the guys…. but that never happened.  So I worked through my lunch today in the hope of the time going to help the team.. but it never did..  and no one will every know the desire I had to be an good employer and boss. No one will know the effort I made to try to pitch in. Not that I am complaining, its just one of those things.  Ultimately we have to make these choices for our own reasons and let them go.  A gift with strings is no gift at all… and a desire to be recognized for giving is still a string.

Here is the challenge and its a big one.  To give and get nothing in return, not even recognition, and be OK with that.  It takes a special kind of personal development to do this.  Even if you get that far, there is still the trap of pride.  Honest self reflection is so important to being the best person you can be.

Its even harder to believe someone could truly have the altruistic thoughts and desires I am relating.  If it were not for the slaves and Masters I know that live this every day, I too might be skeptical…

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

Oh wait! You’re here!

So…. a lazy afternoon and I am on the couch trying to give my body some much needed rest.  Drifting in and out of sleep, I was in a nice fuzzy warm place.. not quite asleep, not quite awake.  In the background, the Izrina is laughing at some witty back and forth banter on a Fet page… nice.. I love to hear her laugh.

Through this warm fog, I hear her talking..  maybe to herself, maybe to me.. she probably didn’t know.  It went something like this..

hmm now a nice hot tub and a shower
let’s see.. ummmm.
Oh wait.  You’re here!  I don’t need to take my cell phone.

As I lay there, I grinned.  It was one of those moments.   I got up walked into the bathroom where she was playing seduko while waiting for the tub to fill.  I took her face into my hands, kissed her on the forehead, and said.. Oh wait.  You’re here!  I don’t need to take my cell phone.  Then I crawled back under the covers on the couch.  Izrina stuck her head around the corner, a grin on her face.. I said something funny?

For many slaves, every question is… is it good?  Did I do well?  With Izrina, who has a moral fear of embarrassment, on top of everything else she ALSO doesn’t want to come of as a ditz.  She was asking me to reassure her, as much as to explain.

That, I said, was one of those golden moments I will wrap up and keep.  What that told me was that when you change from one room to another, one of your first thoughts is… will Master be able to reach me if I am needed.  Its very sweet my pet.

She smiled broadly and skipped off to her tubby, a happy little flogger bunny.   I drifted off to sleep, still warmed by the moment. Big things come in small packages my friends.  Go be someone’s great day!



Master’s orders

A quick health update..  cold moved from my throat, to my ears, to my sinuses..  Been chasing that sucker around the body and it just doesn’t want to quit.  I kind of feel sorry for Izrina since she has been looking forward to a relaxing week off and instead had to endure coughing 24 x7.  Just a day or two more and it will be fine..

We went on a hike today.  Nice walk.  Stopped and had some cold alcohol drinks at a scenic spot.  No drugs for the cold in me, so it was ok..  plus.. I only had half of mine..  Moderation… Carved a heart into a tree.  Something nice about knowing your proclamation of love will be there when you come back years later.  For you tree lovers..I didn’t cut deep and I thanked the tree when we were done…Really more of a tree tattoo than a carving.

So two interesting things.  Some days the rituals and the protocols don’t cut it.  I know we are Master and slave but some days I am just not feeling it.  Some days I just need to feel my Domination by putting it to use.  Today was one of those days.

Izrina was busy playing an XBOX game and I paused as I came into the room.  She was clearly having fun.. and the thing about these games is, you become blissfully unaware of anyone else.  That plus you can reach a point where you simply do not want to be interrupted..   I do this thing with a dog where I hold out some scrap and the dog is watching the scrap and then say.. does he love me..while holding the scrap in front of me..  or the food? and I move the food out to arms length.. of course the dogs eyes go with the food.  So in another sense, I was thinking.. which does Izrina love more..  her game time?  or me?  Now I am grinning quite broadly.. and I say.. hit pause..  She hits pause, looks at me and says… Oh no.. why are you grinning?  I pointed to my feet and without a word, she crawled across the floor and dropped to my feet in worship position.

Did I have to interrupt her game for that little meaningless exchange?  Yes!, and it wasn’t meaningless.  You are not a Master, if you can’t command.  You are not a slave, if you are never commanded.  Once in a while it is absolutely critical that you taste the flavor of your power exchange.   I gave her a nice swat on the ass, and sent my little flogger bunny back to her game… We were both warmed by that Ds quickie…  plus worship involves cock worship.. so yeah.. very nice connection there..

Later, as we sat down to dinner, hmmmm delicious…  Izrina served in protocol fashion wearing a silky red thing, and before starting I told her to swap in the next DVD in the series that we are watching at dinner time.  A normal enough order… but as she got up to comply, I stopped her..  but I want you to swap the disk naked..  disrobe first…    This provided her with the opportunity to do a mini-strip tease,  and I got to examine my property as she swapped out the disk.   Another Ds quickie.

Part of the challenge you face in a 24×7 relation is keeping it fresh.. coming up with simple little orders that keep the sense of the Ds relation alive.  Its so easy to become complacent..   to do the same thing over and over.. Not that there is anything wrong with a routine.  Routines are nice.   But you do need to find little Ds quickies to throw in once in a while.  They may seem small and insignificant.. but it always the little things that pay off big.  Carpe Diem my friends..  Go be someone’s great day.

Vacation sickness

NO, I don’t have Montezuma’s revenge, I didn’t pick up any strange intestinal distress while on vacation.  What I did do was work two back to back 60 hour weeks, plus assorted other stuff with my daughter while she was back from college and I think I pushed way too hard.

I’ve been sick…. really, really sick.. the kind where your body can’t tell what your temperature is.. you know you have a fever and you can feel the sweat, but you have chills and are shaking.. woo hoo! What a ride! Wouldn’t want life to get boring..

Not complaining… just letting you know there is a good reason I haven’t been posting.  So I’ve been resting and ordering my slave around.. on HER vacation.  Yeah… I said her… usually that particular word is not allowed into our vocabulary but everyone needs a little vacation time.  I am sure this is not the vacation time Izrina imagined.

Going to keep this brief.. Need to rack up some more sleep.  No worries though, I am sure there is a reason I let this happen.  I’ll just have fun with it..  Been a bit loopy..  Izrina thought I got into the cough syrup.  Nope.. just a little chakra work.. works every time.  Carpe Diem my friends.. go make a great day..  no matter what!


First 30 minutes – Sorry

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mothers Day and more…

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

A collar and fire

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Broken promises, cock fighting

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Carpe Diem my friends.