Mission Statement

 The following is an attempt to put into writing what I want to be and to have. My ideal self and relationship. This is obviously subject to change and review.

Self
Aware of what I want, and able to pursue it without fear or self-doubt.

Possessing a confidence based on proven skill and success.

Empathetic, compassionate and understanding. Expressing this towards myself and others.

Committed to everything I do, in particular a program of self-improvement.

Firm, consistent and assertive. Dedicated to the nurturing and development of those who serve me.

Honest, accountable and responsible.

Relationship

Stable, structured, orderly. A sanctuary from the uncertainty of the world outside.

Featuring play and excellent sex, and adventure in and beyond the bedroom.

Featuring on-going development of service and training, both individually and as a couple.

Designed to bring out the best in both of us, and providing support for achieving life goals.

Based on mutual honesty, openness and respect.

Expressed through physical and verbal affection.

Changes, pt. 2

So here I am, a little later.

I laid out the plan last time, and I'm sticking to it. It's a program of study and self-improvement. I know I can't expect results too quickly, and I shouldn't beat myself up for not making rapid progress, or for experiencing setbacks. Practicing acceptance and self-compassion is a skill I'm trying to learn, I view it as fundamental to everything I'm trying to do, and the literature agrees with me.

But it's hard. And it's hard because I'm still terrified of failing. Because of everything that would mean. I know I need to separate having feelings that are bad from feeling that I *am* bad, and sometimes I can even manage it, for a few moments.

But I can't shake the feeling right now. That this trouble we find ourselves in is my fault. If I were a better dom, if I were a better husband, if I were a better person, if I were not **me**...it wouldn't be necessary.

So here I am, a little later, pushing forward. In the dark. Unsure of where this path will lead me, and afraid of losing the things I care about in order to follow it.

I have to have faith that everything will work out, that whatever happens it's going to be ok. That's not a feeling I'm used to cultivating. One more thing to learn, I guess.

Objectively, I know I'm making progress, and that it's ok to doubt. I'm just scared it's not going to be enough. Not going to be in time.

Accept the feelings, observe them, and keep moving. Put a name to your anxieties, understand where they come from, break them into smaller parts, and take action.

I need to remember that. I just wish it were easier to know what the right action was.

Changes

I'm trying to change.
I have a whole lot of things that I need to be working on.

Anxiety. Poor self-esteem. A lack of emotional intelligence. Difficulties communicating. These things have been a significant millstone around my neck, preventing me from being who I want to be,
A good husband. A good dom. A good friend. A good worker. A good person.

I have lofty ambitions, but I've never been in a place where I could reach them.

I'm changing that. I'm working on a detailed, structured, disciplined method to change the things that I need to change. It's a multi-disciplinary approach.

I'm undergoing a regime of cognitive-behavioural therapy (the other CBT). I'm studying mindfulness-based meditation. I'm working through several highly-regarded self-help books. I'm trying to be more pro-active with my friendships and ambitious in my career.
I'm trying to embrace the things that scare me.

That's not easy. Scary things are, well, scary.

I'm opening my relationship, to a degree, because we've been unhealthily enmeshed for a long time. I'm trying to meet new people and make new friends. I'm accepting that things might not work out, and that failure in one thing does not invalidate my life, or me as a person. I'm developing a taste for adventure and risk that I haven't had for a long time.

I'm re-writing the entire story of my life, and re-wiring my brain as I go.

And there's a long, long way to go.

But you know what? It's working. It's working slowly, but it's working. I'm happier. I'm more confident. I'm feeling the weight that I placed on my own shoulders slowly lift off. My marriage feels stronger already, which is slightly paradoxical given that we've taken a step back from one another, but seems nonetheless to be true.

I always assumed that "if you don't love yourself, no one can really love you" was a bullshit truism. It's not. It really is true. I wouldn't say I love myself, not yet. But I'm working towards it, and that feels good.

Guess I don't know everything, huh?

Sharing is Caring

I'm not sure where to start this post.

Does it start on Friday, when I lost a close work colleague?

Does it start on the Friday before, when I slipped back into bad habits and rose paid the price for it?

Does it start at the beginning of our relationship, when we laid patterns that have proven dangerous and hard to break through?

Does it start in childhood, when I learned that the only appropriate reaction to negative emotions was silence and repression?

I think the place to start is last Friday. It makes the most sense to me. Last Friday, I did something extremely foolish. After a miscommunication between rose and I lead to some hurt feelings, I handled things poorly and made things worse. Rather than reaching out, confronting the issue and clearing the air between us, I let things fester. I made the mistake of assuming that things would go away on their own, as if relationships are things that don't require any communication or occasionally facing up to things which are wrong or having awkward conversations.

Basically, I shut out reality-reality in favour of in-my-own-head-reality, because that was more comfortable at the time. Feelings were making me uncomfortable, and rather than reach for support from a woman I know has only my best interests at heart and would do anything to help me, I shut off completely.

I know that doing this is wrong, and counter-productive to my goal of having the best possible relationship I can. I know that, intellectually. But I don't always live that understanding, and there are a lot of reasons that might underlie that.

I was bullied a lot as a child. I stood out as a target, being bigger (but slower and clumsier) than the other kids my age. Having an English accent in an Australian school. Having trouble controlling my emotions, going into hysterical tears or raging anger at the drop of a hat. Of course, when I did inevitably lose my temper and lash out, all the people see is the bigger kid throwing his weight around and hurting people. To a degree, it's fair that I got in trouble - I was a big kid who didn't know his own strength, and I was lucky not to have seriously hurt someone- but it taught some bad lessons.

That emotions need to be repressed in order to avoid danger. That feelings cause trouble, and are therefore something to be feared and mistrusted. That I should be ashamed of these things which make me lose control of myself.  Don't listen to them, don't let them control you. Don't let feelings control your behaviour, just hide until they go away. Escape. Avoid.

These are useful tools for a child struggling with a bullying problem, but these tools were all I really had for a long time. Recall that saying about everything looking like a nail when all you have is a hammer. This avoidance of negative feelings or situations that might cause them is my hammer.

Flash forward to a young WW with a new girlfriend. He's head over heels for this girl in ways that he's never experienced before. They're in a relationship that, in terms of intensity and commitment is new to both of them. They're both in unfamiliar waters, and both bringing their own baggage to their relationship. Inevitably, something goes wrong, they fight, they hurt each other. The relationship comes into question, to the point where one or both of them are nearly prepared to call it quits.

There's hurt. There's fear of loss But it;s early days, they're young, they get over it, they get back together and get things back on track. Both sides learn a lesson.

For one of us, though, it reinforces something we've always learned. Feelings cause pain.. They should be avoided where possible, and ignored where avoiding them is not possible. My pain is temporary, and I can take it if it means sparing rose some discomfort. Rationalise away the bad feelings, and they're no longer there.

Flash back to last Friday. Both of these factors play into my decision to avoid the conversation that absolutely needs to happen, but promises to be uncomfortable. To hide in a video game, rather than share my feelings and fears with someone who loves me. To let rose go to bed feeling abandoned and disappointed. To run away to Melbourne for two days rather than stay and tough things out. Sadly, it;s not the first time I've made that decision, either.

It went about as well as you might expect a decision like that to go. We've patched things up, we've moved forward, we've taken steps to avoid this ever coming around again.  Regular check-ins, continuing my therapy, more documenting my emotions in the moment and a commitment to improving my all-over emotional health are all a part of that.

Flash forward to this weekend. On Friday I lost a friend and colleague to a traffic accident. I'm not used to dealing with grief. I've never really lost anyone I've been close to- relatives have passed on, but they were old and had been sick, and were living on other continents. It's expected, and the impact is diffused by the distance. Losing someone suddenly, and someone who I saw almost every day is a new experience. Not only that, but his death has put a serious dent in career plans that had only just begun to take shape after a long, long period of uncertainty.

My feelings have been a bit all over the place.

But I could share them, suddenly. Even though the conversation made me emotional, it left me feeling better. I didn't have to be afraid or ashamed. And it made me feel better.

That's a positive step, and that's my lesson for today.

Worry Wart

I'm an anxious person.

I am, there, I said it, I can't take it back.

I worry a lot. Compulsively. I've had panic attacks in the past, and tend towards catastrophic thoughts. When I start to get negative, things can spiral rapidly out of control. I'm pessimistic. I'm cynical. I tend to focus on what can go wrong, rather than what can go right. Threats, not opportunities. Costs, not benefits.

It's not completely useless.It makes me good at my job, which involves a lot of risk management and looking for possible points of failure in processes and procedures. It makes me a very safety conscious top.

But mostly, it's a negative. It holds me back, in my relationship, in my career, in my day-to-day interactions. It's exhausting. It makes me shut myself into my own head, and takes me out of the moment. It makes me afraid to go for things I want, and even the things I need.

Recently, I've been having therapy. This isn't my first foray into counselling, but it's been very different to other experiences. Previous therapists have been very emotive-based, looking at feelings and past traumas and your typical sort of cathartic stuff. Helpful in its way, but not necessarily a solution. The therapy I've been having recently is much more...direct. It's been a very practical, behavioural approach. At first, I thought it wasn't helping. It was stressful, and sessions left me feeling worse than I did when I went in.

But recently, I've been noticing how much it's been helping me. I've been much more aware, much more conscious of my thoughts and my behaviours. I've been noticing when I've been overwhelmed, or stressed, or locked into my head, and trying to push back against it.

It hasn't always worked. That's ok. Nothing's perfect. But, slowly, I'm improving, or at least getting better control over myself.

And it's showing in my relationship. I'm happier. More confident. She calls me Master and I don't doubt or second guess it. I use her, and there isn't a nagging question in my mind about whether I deserve this. I feel like I belong where I am, more than I ever have.

I'm not perfect.

But I'm getting better.

Smut 2: The Stable

The girl could still feel the soreness around her neck, where he had dragged her by the collar. Out through the door and across the creaky veranda, barefoot across the rough gravel of the courtyard. Through the soft dirt of the woodshed, the powdery earth like sand between her toes. The squeak of the heavy metal door as it opened, the feel of his hand shoving her roughly inside. Out into the stable, empty now, but still with the lingering smell of horses and leather, earth and grass, the air warm with a late summer heat.

The girl shivered, hands bound with thick leather cuffs and tied to the rafter above her head. Naked in the warm, humid, chest heaving as she gasped to get back the breath that had been choked from her. . She could feel herself pulled tight by the ropes tugging at her arms, a burning in her calves, her buttocks, her back, her shoulders, tiptoes struggling to gain purchase on the rough, cold concrete floor. The tingle of a single bead of sweat running down her spine, making her shiver and gasp for breath again. There was an aching quiet. The girl could hear birds, softly singing, the occasional creak and groan from the old stables as the corrugated iron stretched under the rising heat of day.

The man broke the silence, his voice soft with a wicked promise. "What are you?" The girl tried to form the words, but her mouth was dry and they wouldn't come out. A choked whisper that might have been a murmured "Yours", was all the reply she could muster. It seemed to satisfy the man, who smiled and ran a large hand through her long, dark hair and down her back. It slipped off of the smooth curve of her buttock and then lashed back, landing with a heavy slap and a sudden reddening of flesh.

The girl jumped, squealing, the pain unexpected despite the anticipation that had brought her nipples to a tender, aching hardness. The man's hand returned, squeezing, digging his hard fingers into the soft meat until the girl squealed again. The man's other hand wrapped around her, covering her mouth, stifling the cry, stifling her breath, leaving the pain in her arse to fight with the burning in her lungs. That long instant, pulled taut by the rope and tormented at both ends seemed to last forever, an agonising instant stretched into a single, unending present until the hands let go. The girl slumped, gasping for breath, the rope above her all that kept her limp body on it's feet.

The man picked up the flogger, leather, heavy, soft. The girl could hear it, swishing through the air as the man loosened the strong muscles of his shoulders, his thick, muscled arms. The first blow came down across the girl's back, a solid thump of three dozen falls landing at once. The girl's knees went weak again, the pain fading from a sharp ache to a warm glow that slowly spread across her skin. The man waited, letting her absorb the feeling of that first strike before the second one lashed out. Another hard smack, another sharp ache that faded to warmth as her body soaked it in. The girl let out a sound, halfway between a moan of pain and a purr of delight. It brought a  crooked smile to the man's face.

The pace stayed slow. Each stroke allowed to fall, peak, echo around the girl's body and fade to a deep warmth. Slowly, slowly, the pace built. Now the waves started to come one on top of the next, never fading fully before the next smack arrived. The girl allowed herself to float, riding the waves of warm, delicious pain as the tide slowly rose around her and inside her. Her back slowly arched, thrusting her shoulders back, inviting each blow of the whip, welcoming it, the sensations blending until they were one, a delicious, all-embracing cocoon of pain and joy. The fire of the flogger filled her, making her moan in the still air, making her writhe against the cuffs, making her drip onto the rough concrete floor.

The fire filled the girl. A direct line seemed to transmit each blow through the girl's body straight to the throbbing between her legs. The whipping sped up, each strike a little quicker than the last, each shot against her back a little harder than the one before, each crack of the flogger echoing a little louder off of the stable walls, each wave making her cunt swell a little more. Her body soaked up the pain and turned it to pleasure, radiating outwards from her aching clit. She turned to the man, gasping "please?"

"Please what, pet?"

"....please?"

The man paused. The flogger fell. He drew the waiting out, making the girl shiver. Enjoying that moment of holding her entire world in his hand. One last blow, the hardest of them all. A slow smile.

"Now."

Smut 1: A Lesson For Bunny

As a prelude to these posts, I'd like to say that I've not written any porn for a long time. I used to do it a bit, and enjoyed it, and I thought this might be a method to get more in touch with my own inner process. So if it's good, I hope you all enjoy it, and if you don't, well, maybe the next one will be better. This particular piece comes out of a chat rose and I had on a long car ride the other day, and stuck in my head a little.

Bunny was uncomfortably aware of herself. She was uncomfortably aware of the too-high heels digging into the backs of her thighs as she knelt. She was uncomfortably aware of the silk stockings squeezing softly at her freshly shaved legs. She was uncomfortably aware of the tightness of the top around the too-large breast forms and the tightness of the lace bra holding them in place. Of the corset, squeezing her waist into its proper place. Of the slight tickle of the bunny-tail butt plug filling her still-tight hole. Of her cock, struggling to get hard against the cage inside her matching lace panties.

But most of all, Bunny was uncomfortably aware of how far she had come in her transformation. She had come to this small house in the country two days ago as her old self, shy, awkward Brendan. Brendan had been offered the chance to learn things he had always dreamed about, yet only recently been able to admit to, and she was learning more than even those dreams had shown her.

Bunny had learned so much from Miss Rose. How to walk like a girl, with a sexy sashay. How to dress to best showcase her body. How to put on make up and make herself pretty. How to cook and clean like a good maid.  But there was still so much to learn.

"Pay attention now, Bunny."

Mister Wyl's voice cut through her reverie, snapping Bunny back to the moment with a low, assertive rumble.

"You're here to learn, Bunny. So watch an expert at work."

Miss Rose was on her knees, naked in front of him. Her skin was flushed, the excited breath causing her perfect breasts to rise and fall with excitement, the nipples straining taught and hard at their tips, as she looked up to her owner.

"Here's your first lesson. See how excited rose is? See how she's practically drooling because she knows what's coming? That's the first secret. Don't just suck cock. Worship it. Love it. Admit that it's what you need."

Mister Wyl unzipped slowly, and Bunny saw Miss Rose gasp a little as his already-hard cock sprang free, bouncing off her lips. Bunny blushed hard as she realised she had gasped as well.

"I think that lesson's already sinking in", said Mister Wyl, his hand stroking through rose's hair. "Start, pet, show her what to do".

Bunny couldn't quite stifle the whisper of envy as Miss Rose's lips brushed against her Master's cock, making it twitch with pleasure. Miss Rose ran her tongue down the shaft and her lips back up it.

"Note, Bunny, how she starts slow, how she savours every moment of being allowed to worship my cock. Look at how her eyes stay up here on mine."

Mister Wyl put a hand behind her head, gripping her hair just a little, Forcing her slowly down, inch by hard inch.

"Keep watching, Bunny. Watch how she accepts it, watch how she understands her role is to bring me pleasure and nothing else."

Bunny couldn't take her eyes from the scene, at watching Miss Rose turn so easily from his instructor to her owner's willing cockslut. Bunny realised that this was who Miss Rose truly was, and whimpered with envy, wishing that she could accept it so easily.

Mister Wyl forced himself further down her throat and held himself there, choking rose with his cock. "Watch that dedication, Bunny. Gagging is nothing." He pinched  Miss Rose's nose shut, keeping her pinned in place with one hand in her hair "Being choked is nothing."

Mister Wyl held her in pace as his eyes bored into Bunny's. "Worshipping cock is everything." He let himself slide from rose's mouth, and looked down at her. "Right, pet?"

Miss Rose gasped for breath, looking up at him, the blush spreading from her face to her whole body, cunt dripping. "Yes, Master."

"Good girl", growled Mister Wyl, allowing her to take back over, melting her mouth over his cock with a practiced motion, head bobbing with her hair still in Mister Wyl's hand.

Miss Rose's hand wrapped around her Master's cock, stroking it quickly with the tip still in her mouth.

"Watch how she knows exactly how to make me cum, Bunny. And note that she can't take her mouth away, even when she's using her hand. A perfect little cock worshipper. Watch and learn." He moaned, head rolling back, breath starting to become ragged.

Bunny felt her cock fighting against it's cage, felt her breath coming faster, watching with a sort of envied awe.

"And now the last part of the lesson", groaned Mister Wyl.

His cock twitched, shooting cum in thick, white arcs. The first few spurts landed on Miss Rose's upturned, expectant face, making her moan before she swallowed her Master's cock again, taking it all the way down her throat and sucking hard.

Mister Wyl's knees trembled and he steadied himself on Miss Rose, enjoying the feel of her contented moans around his shaft. Bunny watched, eyes wide as Mister Wyl's cock slid from his pet's mouth and she cleaned it delicately with her tongue, smiling up at him. His hand stroked her hair.

"Good girl. I'm sure Bunny found that very educational, pet."

Bunny moaned and shivered, goosebumps covering her skin. She knew now exactly what she wanted to become.

And was uncomfortably aware how badly she needed that dream to become reality.

Wrong

I don't know what's wrong with me. Well, it's more that I can't pick what's wrong with me from this long, long laundry list of options that's going around in my head.

• I have no real sense of self or independent identity
• I'm indecisive
• I'm a weird combination of self-loathing and self-absorbed
• I'm highly anxious and averse to risk or conflict.
• I don't trust easily or communicate well
• I seem to sabotage every good thing in my life
• I have the emotional maturity and awareness of a severely autistic five year old
• Etc
• Etc
• Etc

I think it's three that's the big issue. I live too much in my own head, the trouble is that that's often a pretty hostile environment. Some of the time I'm fully in charge of myself, and I can control the little voices that tell me I'm no good and that everything I do is hopeless and doomed to failure because suffering is the only constant of the universe and that's a good thing because I deserve to suffer to make up for all the people I hurt who I'm supposed to care about.

And other times, like the last week or so, not so much.

I don't know why I'm so fragile, and I don't want to be. It's a shameful thing.

I don't relate well to my own feelings. They're like...a fracture. I can't feel it unless I touch it, but touching it hurts, so I don't touch it. In fact, I'm vaguely upset at the fact that they exist at all, not to mention my own lack of control over them. It's easier to just escape, withdraw, avoid. Pretend nothing bad is happening.

That's not healthy. It's destructive. I wouldn't care that much if it hurt just me, but it hurts the people around me and that's something I don't want.

Only problem is, what do I do? I can't change my entire psychology, can I? But I equally can't listen to the part of me that's always saying that this is what I deserve, that I was meant to be alone and that it's not fair for me to inflict my damage on others.

I don't want to give up, but it's very easy to think of myself as a lost cause. As on a pre-ordained trajectory that ends in well-deserved, lonely ignominy. As lacking the strength to overcome even my inconsequential problems.

This might all just be venting. The blogging equivalent of vomiting out the hangover from a binge of negative emotions. Maybe I'll wake up tomorrow with my eyes clear again and able to see myself accurately, or maybe I'll just be deluding myself into thinking that my problems aren't so bad and getting on with things until the next time I undermine my marriage with nothing more than my own neuroses and some obsessive escapism.

For someone who spends so much time looking into himself, I'm awfully lacking in self awareness. It's like every time I look inside me, there's just a storm, and looking any deeper than the waves on top of it is too painful and difficult to be borne. So it's just wasted time and wasted energy, a distraction. Sartre would say that I was living in bad faith, Kierkegaard that I was living in despair.

My desire for structure wants me to give this a conclusion of some kind. There really isn't one because this issue isn't resolved. It's become an issue by the very fact of its irresolution. Of my irresolution. Of my own formlessness. These thoughts aren't concentrated into anything useful. but at least they're out, I guess.

I just want to be happy in myself, and to make the people I love happy. I don't understand why such a simple thing needs to be so difficult.

2014 Review

2014 was a weird year.

It started with migraines and ended with gastroenteritis, but in the middle there were some pretty good times. There were some bad ones, as well, but on balance it was an alright year in the personal world.

I've got to think that if you include all the stuff that happened in the world, and there seemed an unnecessarily large amount of it, maybe that would change. But this is a personal and kink blog, and I'm reviewing this in the light of my personal, kinky life.

In a way, the year kind of came full circle - we started out with a renewed dynamic, and we ended with a renewed dynamic. In the middle, there were times where it fell apart, and they weren't good. But as we close in on our second wedding anniversary, I feel like our relationship has never been stronger.

I think that's the real lesson I've taken from this year, across all the areas of my life. Persistence and an ability change the way you do things if the results displease you are the keys to doing things well. Being pleased with little steps and taking pride in them, rather than going for the big win or the quick fix. Not rushing things.

I don't really go in for new years resolutions, but if I did, these would be mine. Just to continue the way things are going- a slow, steady, upwards trend. Also, I'd like to lose about 10 more kilos, but that's neither really here nor there.

Seems like I should be paying more attention to the little things. This year was busy as fuck, we tried and did so many big and  little things. Our holidays, our trip to OzKinkFest, trying watersports, all the scenes and fucking, and all the other moments and developments. It's honestly a blur, a lot of it, but it's a happy blur.

I look forwards to next year, and hope it's just as happy and less of a blur.

In Summer Rain

We took the dog for a walk, trying to get the blood pumping after a slightly over-gluttonous Christmas day.

The weather was a bit unsettled, as it often is in our neck of the woods through spring and early summer. As a consequence, we got soaked in a sudden fall of icy rain, running for the car, slipping and sliding on the muddy walking trail.

We got home, and stripped off our wet clothes. I don't know if you've ever seen rose in her underwear, hair wet, blood pumping from the cold rain and the dash for the car. But I can tell you, it's a pretty appealing sight.

I had to take her, and I did.

I took her to the bedroom, took off what was left on and threw her onto the bed.

I ate her tight little cunt until she gushed and came, moaning and shaking.

I pushed her down and slid into her, pinning her hands above her head, both her wrists in one of my hands, feeling her squeeze me each time I pressed down.

I fucked her. Harder. Faster. Called her my slut. My whore. My fuckdoll. My good little slavecunt.

My hand on her throat, eyes of a predator boring into her.

I tell her to cum.

She cums for me. I cum for her.

We flop into the bed, panting, shaking, her head tucked into my chest.

"I love you, Master."

"I love you, pet."

Training Wheels

I never really learned to ride a bike as a child. I mean, I tried to learn, but when I was about six or so I had a fairly bad accident and never quite got back on. Suited me, I was a lazy, uncoordinated kid anyway, and I seem to remember never really being comfortable on the bike anyway.

This is a very strange beginning to a blog about kink, but do bear with me, I'm pretty sure I've got a point.

Recently, Rose has been taking the dog for a ride with her on her bike. She rides, he trots along, I...stayed home. I decided that, bugger it, I'm going to come along, even if I can't ride a bike. So I bought an adult tricycle. After the massive headache of assembling the thing, and a period of adjustment to it, I've got to say it's pretty fun. My terrible balance isn't a handicap anymore, and I can get out with rose and our poodle and enjoy some good exercise and bond with both of them. It's nice, I enjoy it, we feel like a right little family.

Ok, now we're getting to the point. I promise.

The point I'm trying to make is that if there's something you want to do, find a way to do it, even if that method is unconventional. Even if it might make you feel slightly ridiculous at first. Because trust me, I look ridiculous on that trike. A large, overweight man with too much hair being pulled along on a giant tricycle by a tiny little miniature poodle? If I saw that on TV, I'd sure laugh.

But here's the thing. That's not important. Appearances aren't anything to worry about, and living up to other people's standards is a surefire path to misery.

Rose and I have been doing really well, lately. Our dynamic has been very good, as has our relationship. I think it's because I've found and embraced that third wheel. Found my balance. Started to come into myself as a Dom, and realise that the only standard, the only image I need to live up to is my own.

Attempting to be MasterLordDomlySir the Magnificent and Infallible, attempting to live up to an image that was unattainable, that's not who I am. It might work for some people, but it's not me- apologies to the old schoolers rolling their eyes at the young turk- and it doesn't have to be.

Because for the longest time, I wanted to be. I projected that on to rose. I would beat myself up for not living up to what she wanted, when really what she wanted was for me to be happy in myself. Which of course gave me great excuses not to try, or to try and then beat myself up when I failed.

Now I'm just being me, and it turns out that when I'm just allowing myself to do what comes naturally instead of trying to live up to an ideal, it just...works.

I'm not MasterLordDomlySir the Magnificent and Infallible.

I'm just Master me. Not magnificent. Not infallible. Just happy and fulfilled.

That, as it turns out, is a lot better.

The pursuit of happiness..

Here comes a wall of text! (Tl;dr I'm a mental case but in a good place at the moment)

I have something of an out of control brain at times. Myers-Briggs type INTP, tendencies towards anxiety, inner dialogue I'm only nominally in control of, and a tendency to fixate on and obsess over my many failures and failings, and creating self-fulfilling prophecies that tend bring down the things I try to do.

I endlessly catalogue and analyse my lowest moments and the things that lead to them. I don't do that when I'm happy, and the result is that I tend to understand why and when I'm sad, and be bewlidered by the things that make me happy.

A month ago, I was at a very low moment. My self confidence was missing, as it sometimes goes. A combination of factors, which aren't really productive to go into had dragged me back down again. The result is that I become a pretty toxic person to be around, especially for the people who love me.

I withdraw, avoid, disengage. Try and hide myself in whatever distraction is convenient. I ignore the people around me, knowing that I'm hurting them, but unable to do anything else for fear of making it worse. Despair is a hard feeling to escape from under.

A month ago, I found myself comforting my wife, in bed and in tears at three o'clock on a sunday afternoon, her own sense of self-worth completely eroded by the disappearance of mine. Understandably, seeing this and knowing I had caused it was heartbreaking. I love this woman more than anything, and to have made this happen was...excruciating.

But it was also catalysing. We talked a lot. All afternoon, about the things we'd been feeling, and what might have caused them. Then, a new sense of intimacy blossomed. We played. We fucked. And since then, things have been...good.

I'm not sure why, not sure what's changed in me. But I feel different, and that confident, strong feeling has stayed longer than it has in the past under similar circumstances. I feel so much more sure of myself than I'm used to.

I just can't work out why! That part of my brain that's obsessively self-conscious is missing in action.

That's...uh. Well. Hm. That's probably the answer, huh?

Routine

Hi, everyone. It's been a while since I've posted. Do I say that every time? Anyway. In the past, I've really not cared much for routines. If there's one thing about me that I'm certain of, it's that I'm very much an improviser. I like to go with the flow, and adapt to things as they come up, do things as I think about them rather than doing things the same way every day. I've tended to associate routines with boredom and stagnation, things I like to avoid when I can. Recently, though, things have changed my opinion on the matter. If you read my rose's blog (and if you read mine and don't read her's, what the fuck is wrong with you? Her one is a thousand times better than mine, so get following it), you'll know that up until a couple of months ago, things had been...not so grand for us. For various reasons, which I'll identify as being because a lot of the time I'm really too lazy to be a good dom. There, I said it. I know part of my love of not having an organised life or a structured day is that it gives me the chance to slob out of doing things that need doing. Always the ability to put off until tomorrow what I should be doing today. Which for a Master with a slave who thrives on order, and stability, who needs to be secure before she can be happy, is the absolute worst thing to have. It makes me think things like "I'm not happy with what she's doing, but I'll let it slide this time. If she does it again, I'll make something of it". Except next time, I think the same thing again. I never do anything about it, and I feel a little less powerful, and she feels a little less cared for. A little less able to trust me to be there, perhaps. So I've changed that. Or rather, I'm changing that. I'm trying to change it in all facets of my life. In our relationship. In my personal habits. I'm getting there, slowly. But what's really working is having a routine to build our day around, especially now I have a job that I'm working at full time. I'm learning the value of these things. That being stricter, consistantly, is not only possible, but pleasant. That having the security that that provides has the benefits of providing me with a happier, more confident slave. And though we've had to spend a lot more time apart than I'd like, it does have the side-effect of making appreciate the time we do get together more, and want to make the most of it. So at the moment, our routine looks like this. Wake up together when my alarm goes off. I normally find her with her head pressed into my chest. Never quite sure how she can breathe, but she must manage ok. Dressed. Breakfast. Spend a few moments cuddling and chatting, groping, kissing. Bonding. Head out to work. The feeling of knowing that she's there at home, waiting, eagerly excited that I'll come home makes my days feel very positive and special. It's not a rule as yet, but pet has been using an app called Astrid to organise her days for when I'm not here. The great thing is, I can see what she puts on her to-do list and checks off of it. I really enjoy that feeling of being connected like that, of keeping an eye on her and being able to push her when she's not feeling up to things, and reward her when she does well. Come home. Receive the happy greetings of a loving slave who's missed her Master. Spend the evening enjoying each other's company and our mutual interests. This is honestly my favourite part of the day. Being able to relax and just enjoy being with her, the woman who is not only my slave and my lover, but also my partner and my best friend. Then bedtime. Sometimes I put her to bed and hold her until she falls asleep, then get back up for a bit, if I'm not tired yet. Othertimes, we go to bed the way we woke up. With a routine like that, who'd really want to change things? (edited for massive formatting fail. WTF is with this new blogger interface?)

Valentine's Day, 2012

So it's Valentine's Day again.

Those of you who know me, may know that I don't particularly care much about about it. The simple fact is that I believe if you love someone, if you care about them, if you're in a relationship with them, is that you shouldn't confine making them feel special to one day of the year. Every day is an opportunity to make your partner feel loved, to show them that you cherish them, whether that's in large ways or small. I'm not always very good at doing this, but I do try.

But there is some value to having a day to celebrate love in general, and the love in your life, specficially. So I wanted to take some time to talk about the love in my life.

So the rest of this post is to you, pet. I was looking for an anctual card yesterday, but none of them were right. The sweet ones were too boring or too sappy, the silly ones not showing enough seriousness, the sexy ones too crude or boring. So I decided to write you my own.

To say thank you, for everything that you give to me.

Thank you for being mine. Thank you for being the slave, the pet, the love, the rose that you are, and for all the happiness and pleasure that you bring me. Thank you for the pride in both of us that you make me feel.

Thank you for being sexy. Thank you for being sweet. Thank you for being silly. Thank you for being smart. Thank you for the cakes, cookies, crumbles and curries. Thank you for ice-cream for breakfast, and late night skinny dipping.

Thank you for killing it with hammers made of lava. Thank you for Lord of the Rings Marathons. Thank you for long car rides together. Thank you for Rebels games, "I'm Going To the Picnic" and getting bitten by possums.

Thank you for all the orgasms. Thank you for the spankings. Thank you for the look in your eyes as my hand goes around your throat. Thank you for the sweet, slow, soppy sex and the rough, hard, nasty sex and all the joy curled up together afterwards.

Thank you for putting up with me, even when I'm not the Master or the partner someone like you deserves. Thank you for being calm when I'm upset. Thank you for being sensible when I'm foolish. Thank you for being patient when I'm grumpy. Thank you for your support, your care and the love you show me every day.

But most of all, thank you for letting me love you, slavedoll.

You are the light of my life, pet. My most cherished posession, my best friend and my perfect drug. I promise to spend the rest of my life trying my best to love you the way you deserve.

I love you, pet.

Happy Valentine's Day. (And 46th anniversary of the decimalisation of currency in Australia)

formspring.me

Ask me questions about anything http://www.formspring.me/WyldWyl

Innocent until proven...

So, I recently received the question on formspring 'what is something you've had to overcome in your BDSM life?" It was an intersting question, but unfortunately formspring ate my response. I'm going to try reconstructing it here.

When I was in the early stages of my relationship with rose, I had a lot of problems with guilt. This would be especially prevalent after scenes, often showing up as part of my drop. I would blame myself for everything that was less than perfect in the scene, in the relationship, in the world around me. I would be certain that there was no way in which rose could be happy with me, that because of my failings and the things I had done it was only a matter of time until I'd lose her- and even worse, that I'd deserve it. Basically, my train of thought was "You say you love this girl? How could you hurt/degrade/take advantage of her like that? What kind of person are you?" I've had problems in my life based around guilt and blaming myself for things beyond my control, of always looking for how I could attribute anything bad happening to my own failings for a long time, it's just that it seemed to particularly attach itself to the kink in my life.

And it sucked.

It came to a head late one night. We had been involved in what was (up until that point) the most intense scene in our three or four month old relationship. It had been very different to the scenes we had done so far- while normally our play is very mutual- with no real flavour of coercion or force involved, but of a slave willingly and gladly giving herself for her Master's enjoyment- this was very different. Much more conflict driven, more like forcing her to submit against her will, and her resisting me. While I did feel a sense of unease about this at the time, I pushed it down and saw the scene through to its conclusion, losing myself in the moment. It went far beyond what we'd done before, and really pushed both of us to our limits, despite being completely impromptu.

We were lying in bed together, afterward, when it hit me. Guilt, overwhelming. Guilt for having forced her to do something against her will (it wasn't). Guilt at having hurt her (I hadn't, beyond a few scratches and bruises). Guilt for having enjoyed doing something so abusive and vicious to her. Certainty that after this she would hate me, that she would leave, that she would never trust me again. Absolute terror that I would lose her. I broke down. I started crying uncontrollably. Begging and pleading for her to forgive me.

Rose was magnificent in that moment. Even though she was scared and worried for me, she took me in her arms and talked me down. Made me understand that she was fine, that I hadn't hurt her, that she had enjoyed what we had done, that there was no risk of me losing her. She slowly brought me back to a more lucid state, and from there the conversation started. She drew out of me eactly how I was feeling, got me to open up about events and feelings that I had never shared with another person, we talked about all the fears and anxieties and the guilt that was going through me. And she made it better. It was one of the moments that really convinced me that my rose was the girl -the slave, the pet, the lover, the partner- that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. That she was the one for me. While it was a tough moment, it was -as so many of the toughest moments in relationships are- the one that was the key to making something that would last.

It hasn't been easy, or a perfect process. But I understand now that I don't need to fear letting go like that, or feel guilty about enjoying it. That play with rose is pleasure and joy for both of us. That even when I'm in the grip of the most powerful and sadistic throes of dom-space, that I can be trusted, that it can be a positive thing. I've had to do a lot of work with rose's help, and I'm not all the way there. I do still blame myself for things, and I haven't been able to change my thought processes to the degree I'd like as yet. But I'm making progress, and I've managed to all but eliminate it in our play and relationship. I couldn't have done it without rose, but with her...it's working.

The way we've grown together, grown FOR each other, is one of the most magical and satisfying things about our relationship, and I wouldn't trade any of the experiences that have lead us here, no matter how painful they were at the time.

The v-word: A WW ramble.//

So, I've been involved in a couple of discussions recently about what constitutes sex and what doesn't, and how the question of virginity plays into that notion. I thought that for want of anything better to do, I'd set out some of my thoughts about it for anyone interested.

I've always found the definition of sex as simple intercourse to be problematic, both in general terms and in terms of my own personal narrative. The main problem which I have with this definition of sex is that it devalues other forms of sexual activity and expression- essentially making penetration a litmus test for a lot of very complicated and emotionally charged ideas, ranging from intimacy, to maturity, to masculinity and many others. While physically, oral sex =\= intercourse, the idea that a blowjob can't have as much significance or pleasure attached to it, can't be as intimate and meaningful an act (1)is, at least to me, ridiculous.

It also doesn't take into account the differing sexual narratives experienced by LGBT people. If penetration is the definition of sex, does that mean a lesbian is a virgin until she experiences strap-on play? Or does that not count either, and she remains a virgin until she's been with a man? Or is the bar set lower, and does getting fingered count? And for gay men, are you a virgin until you've had anal sex, or does oral count? For people who are transgender/sexual, the line becomes even more blurred. Even in heterosexual sex, does it count if you use a condom? What if you don't, but don't cum inside your partner? What if it only lasts 10 seconds? Does it not count if it's anal sex?

Honestly, I think as a society, we're strangely hung up on the notion of virginity. According to the traditional definiton, I lost mine very late for someone of my generation, at 21. But if you go by the date of my earliest sexual encounter with another person, then I was ahead of the curve at 13. I actually don't count either of those experiences as when I lost my own virginity, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I'm bisexual. While my rose was the first woman I experienced intercourse with, and while I consider that to be a very good thing, I don't necessarily consider it the moment at which I lost my virginity. (2) To me, that moment wss the first time I experienced the moment when I opened myself up, made myself vulnerable physically and emotionally to someone I cared for - where I came to that nexus of physical and emotional pleasure that makes sex such an incredible experience. But that's not the whole of it, either. I think that every time you experience a new act, or even a new person, there's an element of loss of virginity there that's just as special as that first time. I remember my first time scening with rose, even though it might not have been my first sexual or even my first kinky encounter, with just as much fondness, pleasure and significance as I do my first blowjob, or my first kiss, or any of the other firsts of my life. Virginity doesn't have to be gone all in one go, and I think it's a shame people seem to want it to be.

I don't know if I've made any real conclusions here, or even laid out anything particularly revolutionary, but I hope it's at least made you stop and think for a minute- even if it's just to remember those special moments, and special people and have a quiet smile.

Ask questions, raise ideas, share memories in the comments!

1: As a sidebar conversation, it might be worth setting out what I mean when I say intimate and meaningful. I don't really believe in casual sex, at least as a phrase. While I'm not advocating 'wait until marriage' or 'never have sex outside relationships', I don't believe that any sexual act is truly casual. Always in a sexual encounter there's some degree of opening, of shared vulnerability which, even if it lasts only for a few moments and is never repeated, is not something I would describe as casual.

2: Incidentally, what's with that phrase? It just seems to bring with it such a negative connotation, as though it's a moment that should be regretted, and a loss that should be mourned. Why not 'gained my sexuality' or something nicer?

Continuing continuances...

I felt it was about time for me to write something. I know I haven't in a while.

Things were very tough for R and I over the summer months. But for the last month or two, things have really come good. It serves as a lesson to me on several things, that I'd like to jot down in case they interest you.

1. That I have an amazing slave and partner in my rose. Without her patience, her trust, her love and her loyalty, we'd never have gotten to this point.

2. Dominance, like submission, is something that requires you to work at it. Sometimes there seems to be a perception that Doms just kind of...are. While subs have to work constantly to remain in the right mindset and feel in their place, a lot of the time this process for Dominants is glossed over, dismissed or just ignored. It's not the case. One of the most important things in getting back to where we wanted to be was for me to find myself as a Master again. But now, with daily work at it (good, I think, for both of us) and getting in touch with that part of myself every day I find it much easier to get into and stay in my dominant place.

3. Relationships take work. I'm guilty of falling into the same trap a lot of people, kinky or vanilla, fall into: of assuming that things will just work out on their own. Communication, effort, understanding, desire to improve things that aren't working, compassion and empathy with your partner- slave or otherwise- are all critical things.

4. That being said, one of the things that's been most important for me to learn is that I *AM* a good partner, and I *AM* a good Master. That one failing isn't the end of world, and that blaming myself and dwelling on the past is not the same as taking responsibility in a positive way for my mistakes. Being a good Master and being a good lover and partner are not mutually exclusive things, and I am capable of being both.

5. Patience is just about the most imporant virtue for anyone to possess; in my case I particularly need to develop patience with myself.

6. Keeping things fresh is important. I think the daily tasks (and a focus on doing more direct and less abstract D/s activities in general) have really helped with this, for me at least. Every day I get another opportunity to try new things and they may not always work- but it stretches my imagination and pet's boundaries, and that's a good thing.

7. Abstraction doesn't really work. This is related to what I mentioned above. One of the main problems we've experienced has stemmed from the fact that before they structure of our life was very different when we were together compared to when we were apart. Previously, rose was directed to do a lot of tasks that were very abstract- meditiations, mantras, etc- that were almost never a part of our time together, and while they were enjoyable, didn't really fit with the style of D/s that has evolved between us in the realy world. Now we're focusing on things that are more like our own style; more playful, less formal than most, and are thus more directly pleasing and satisfying to both of us.

In particular, expanding my resolution to "Do at least one thing every day that helps rose engage with her submission and me with my dominance" into daily tasking activities has really been good for me (and I think for her as well). It's helped us both to cope with things outside the relationship that have been hard, as well as improving our relationship to each other.

8. Rose really is wonderful as both a partner and as my slave. Did I say that already? Oh well.

Endings and beginnings

It's probably not a secret that things between rose and I haven't been at their best the last couple of months. They hit their lowest ebb a week or so ago, when rose came to the conclusion that the M/s part of our relationship was over, and that the dynamic between us could not be re-built. This lead to what for both of us was probably the worst week of our lives.

I'm pleased to be able to say that we're back. It wasn't easy. It took a lot of talking. A lot of listening. A lot of thinking. A lot of honesty, and openness, and none of these things are easy when things are hard in a relationship, even with a person you love and trust. It wasn't easy, but we're back both as a couple and as Master and slave.

I don't intend to go into detail about what happened, as that's something I feel should stay between us. I just want to look for a little while at the lessons I've learned, and what I plan to do to be a better partner and Master to my rose in the future.

1. Taking things for granted will always cause problems. Happiness and contentment in submission can at times be fragile, and should always be cherished and maintained. Thinking that they are always going to be there without care and nurturing, and putting a relationship (kinky or vanilla) is just asking for trouble. Something I thought I knew, but obviously didn't understand the importance of it.

2. Communication is the key. It needs to flow both ways. A relationship can't function happily if no one expresses the truth of what they're thinking and feeling, no matter if it causes pain in the short term. This whole painful two months could have been avoided if we'd been fully open and honest about our feelings with each other. So I'm committing myself to share these things with my rose, even if it hurts in the short term, it's better for the relationship.

3. Blame is fruitless. The biggest thing that stood in the way of fixing a lot of the problems we've had recently is my tendancy to automatically blame myself for any issues or failures that arise, to the detriment of actually working on a solution. This habit demolished my confidence and sense of self-worth to the point where I could be neither a good partner nor a good master to rose, and is something I really need to work on if I am to develop both as a kinkster and a person.

4. Insecurity is the enemy. Rose trusts me, loves me, is loyal and devoted to me. I need to trust her more and not worry so much that every little problem that emerges is the end of the world.

5. Probably the best thing to come out of this is that I do now feel that I deserve rose as a slave, that in some sense I've 'earned' her. One of the things that's nagged at me from time to time, and it's related to what I wrote above, is that I don't really deserve her. That I'm not a proper Master, just a top pretending, and that one day she'll see through me, see all the pain I've caused her, and no longer wish to stay with me. I no longer feel that way. I feel after what we've been through together, and how I was ultimately able to respond, I've proved to myself that I am the Master she needs, and can make her happy and contented as a person and a slave.

Things are changing in our relationship. The fabric of our M/s dynamic is changing, because it needs to. Changing to better reflect her needs and my desires. To better fit our lives. Change can be scary, but these changes are necessary, and they seem to be working well so far. It hasn't been easy getting to this point, but we're stronger for it and I know that we're both re-committed to this relationship, as lovers, as partners, and as Master and slave.

I'd just like to say a quick thank you to all the people who have shown us such support and love over a time that's been difficult for both of us, to friends both kinky and vanilla, in public or in private, thank you.

But most of all, I'd like to thank you, pet. For your patience. For your courage. For your willingness to keep going when you had every right and opportunity to walk away. For the love and affection, for the devotion and respect, for the honesty and passion you bring into my life, every single day. My pet. My slave. My love. My rose. Thank you.

Missing: One Master

So. Somewhere, out there, I seem to have left my inner dom behind.

I'm serious. I look inside, I can't find it. All my confidence, all my motivation, all my drive, all my...everything is gone, and I'm not sure how to bring it back.

I really don't know quite how it happened. My feelings toward rose and toward BDSM haven't changed, I still love them both and want them both in my life. It's just that I don't seem to be able to get back on the horse and return things to how they/I/we were before we went away. But I need to, because I know that we both need it, and I can see every day the strain this is putting on rose personally, and our relationship. Not to mention what it's doing to my own emotions and mindset.

I try to get in the right headspace, but it feels like putting on a coat that's way too big for me- I just feel wrong. Right now I'm timid. Indecisive. Can't seem to assert myself or my will on any situation, hardly the qualities one looks for in a dom. Has this ever happened to anyone else?

I think the main problem is that my condifence is shot. A few meltdowns and a few wonky scenes have really dented it, and to be honest my sense of self-worth has never been the most secure in the world. So right now, I'm very unsure of myself, which makes it very hard to find that dominant state of mind.

Rose, I still love you- and I still want you as my pet, my slave, my love and my rose. I still want this to work, and I know you'll be patient with me as I try and get myself back on track. I'm so sorry for the pain I know I'm putting you through.

And the good news is, I have the beginnings of a plan. It occurred to me late last night, that a relationship is a lot like a building in that it needs a solid foundation. Without that, you can't have confidence that it won't all fall apart under pressure. So we...well, I, need to go back to the beginnings. I'm going to look, over the next couple of days, at the most basic parts of our relationship, go back into our history and look at it. Take inspiration. And start again at the basics- but make myself a part of them, too.

When rose had problems with issues of confidence and self-worth in the earlier stages of our relationship, I knew what to do- but I took my own dominance and that part of our dynamic for granted. Now I need to find ways to work on it myself, so I think I need to create similar exercises and affirmations, rituals if you will, to help rebuild my own sense of place in our relationship.

The foundations of a strong relationship, are a sense of self-worth and the ability to trust in the other person. I've let both fall into disrepair, but at least I've got an idea to start rebuilding them.

Advice and comments are welcome, and I'll let you know how I get on.