Anxiety sucks

The day started out innocently enough. I knew My sweetness was alone at her office, that her work load was fairly light, and that we had childcare beyond our normal time. So I sent her an exceedingly provocative message that hinted that she should head straight home and that I would be putting her mind into a single thought space.

I’m told she found herself to be wet, sticky and distracted the remainder of the day. I likewise found myself watching the clock a la Britney Spears only with a pen on a legal pad in a court room instead.

I got home, made sure everything was in readiness and did my best to restrain the Darkness from arresting her upon entry to the house. I instead followed her into our kitchen while she unloaded her bag including the little cooler containing the daily load of “white gold”. If anyone isn’t familiar with the term white gold, it is only the most precious of materials to nursing mothers. The phrase “Don’t cry over spilled milk” doesn’t even come close to applying with this stuff. It will get you killed (quickly at best, slowly at worst) to suggest such a thing. Well sweetness walked towards our freezer vault and opened it up. I saw the expression on her face change almost immediately and but for my walking behind her and catching her, she would have hit the floor.

I had arranged approximately 60 minutes for our KF, and I needed every second of that to help My sweetness combat the panic attack that opened the flood gates of everything she had concerns about that exploded. I managed to carry her upstairs, curled in my arms with her head buried into my chest, I held and rocked her as she shook and remained in a tight impenetrable ball. I pushed aside all of the toys and such I had carefully laid out and managed to convince her to extract herself from the enclosure she had thrown up. And at the end I managed to help her undress and slide into a warm tub while I went to get little man.

When I first met My sweetness, she refused to let anyone in, when a panic situation came about the walls would shoot 50 feet in the air and be reinforced. I am proud of her for reaching the point of allowing me to at least be on the walls when they come up and give me the chance to break through using our dynamic and marital relationships. I guess, while we didn’t get to engage in KF, we still got to utilize the dynamic and seem to have come out ok albeit a bit frustrated.

 

And for those readers who are nursing moms, have been, have empathy to the situation, or just are curious, we were able to salvage the stockpile.

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Daily Double

Ok I am going to go for two on the day. Just when I thought I was going to escape with my pseudo cheat post I saw this blog post

Bdsm and you, why do we love it so much?

Ask anyone who has been in into the lifestyle for any length of time, they will tell you why they love it. It speaks to you. You finally feel like you found yourself. You are at home in your own skin. You don’t feel like a fraud for being different, from everyone else, for the first time in your life.

You find yourself facing your fears, which for the life of you, you have no idea why they were fears to begin with. You have this ‘hard list’ of things you refuse to try. Yet, if you have a great dominant they will make this list shrink. While that list is getting smaller it hits you, that you have had more experiences in a certain amount of time, you feel more alive than you ever had. You are at peace with yourself. For the first time ever, you know you are right where you belong.

The hardest thing is finding the dominant that is your equal and opposite other half. This relationship must work like a well oiled machine. That person must know your fears, your likes/dislikes, your pain level, health issues.

The other side of this is that you must be the other half of that person. You must be ready to be all they need. You will need to know how to keep them happy, how they insist on being served, how much experience do they have. What will be required of you, and can do the job that they have set before you.

Both you and your dominant must be ready to be honest with each other about what you are both wanting , expecting from each other. Do you both really want a relationship,  will you just play and care for each other.

This lifestyle offers so many ways for you to express yourself, for you to grow as a person and in your sexuality. You can have as many experiences as want, or very few. Those of us who truly live this lifestyle,  we do pride ourselves on trying to not judge one another. We realize we already have to hide from the vanilla world, we should support one another.

Speaking of the vanilla world. As we must be apart of it,  we work in it, play in it, raise kids, have vanilla friends and family members. Yet most of us must hide our true selves. We must not breathe a word of what we do in private, how much we have learned, how far we were pushed by our dominant, or pushed ourselves.

You can be anything you want to be. Feel how you want to feel, dress slutty, be a brat!, be reserved. Only you know what will make you happy.

The hard part is that we try so hard to live the lifestyle in a safe way, for us physically and mentally,  and emotionally.  Then we must deal with stupid books/movies that depict our lifestyle as something tawdry, or abusive. Granted we do have some fakes on the dominant and submissive sides, but don’t judge us all from those few bad examples.

No matter how you live, I hope you have a wonderful life. I wish you all the happiness in this lifestyle.  It is the best!

♡babygirl

Source: Bdsm and you, why do we love it so much?

From the Dominant side of that coin I don’t know that I can improve that first paragraph so I will leave it be.

We as Dominant’s have fears as well, plus the added pressure of both being open with our submissive while not letting them be weighed or pushed away by our fears. I daily worry if I am doing enough to make sure sweetness gets what she needs from our dynamic and partnership. My list is slightly different in that I have things I want. For her, for us, and for me. As we progress that list evolves based on our communication and experiences. The difficulty in locating a submissive is that you as the Dominant must know you first. It’s easy to end up in a Goldilocks situation: Too submissive, too broken, too resistant, the “50 Shades of Grey” I want it but I don’t/ too superficially interested.

This lifestyle is truly so wide open that there could never be a comprehensive unabridged guide. We can try to hit the major types of kinks but just like the world will likely never see an end of inventions, there will likely never be an end of people finding a different ways of getting their rocks off.

Then there is the vanilla world, as someone who has an intense natural Dominant side, I liken every day I go to work like an alcoholic working in a brewery. I get to give flashes of my true self at time, but its hard to keep the chain on the Darkness if it gets up a head of steam.

And then there is the mass media’s view of what we do……Oh excuse me I had to go whip and then sodomize my mentally weak submissive because as I Dominant that’s what I do.

I echo babygirl in that I hope for all those who are currently in or who are lurking at the fringe of being in the lifestyle all the best that the two worlds have to offer.

50 Shades of….breastfeeding!?!?!

Credit goes to sweetness for letting me know about this write-up by Scary Mommy

As I sat getting smacked in the face repeatedly by my adorable baby, it became clear to me that I’m not only breastfeeding, but I’m also somehow engaged in an involuntary BDSM relationship. If you’ve ever nursed, these probably sound frighteningly familiar…

1. The Boob Spank: When your baby slaps your breasts — preferably as public humiliation at church or the grocery store — when you don’t submit your boob quickly enough.

2. The Leg Bruiser: When your little muffin of love wants to stand up and nurse while digging toes you previously thought adorable so deep into your thighs they look like a week old banana.

3. The Acrobat face chops: This move combines mobility with the extreme bendable quality of infancy. Possible variations are the roundhouse kick to the nose while maintaining suction, and the swift kick to the ear right while breaking the latch.

4. “I-Cant-Believe-They’re-Not-Knives” Play: Tiny fingernails act as small machetes digging into your chest. This torture is especially concentrated on the thinnest skin of your nipple for maximum “Ow! Fuck!!”

5. The Tantric nurser: The tantric nurser cares not for your cracked nipples from endless hours of nursing. They care not for your aching back from the never ending need for boob. This exquisite form of torture calls for Netflix and nipple cream.

6. The “Hickey”: Too eager to wait for the nipple, baby smashes his head into any part of your chest and nurses like you’ve suddenly grown a third nipple. The marks last for days.

7. The Nipple Clamp: In lieu of normal suckling, baby decides to see if its possible to suck your lung out through your chest. When you break latch, he cries and boob spanks you for non-compliance.

8. The Head-Butt: A classic move designed to ensure your rapid compliance with providing the boob. Baby quickly slams their head towards your breast, sometimes with alarming force. This rookie-training move will often be repeated multiple times until mom is able to jump the gun and provide the breast before it becomes necessary. Excellent for training purposes.

9. The Refusal: This move is only attempted by older infants who have established dominance. The ability to drive mommy to a meltdown or spray her milk everywhere simply by refusing to nurse? That is called power.

10. The Biter: Self Explanatory. Baby will cry with faked remorse when you yell CHEESUS FUCK! into the night and then do it again immediately to condition you to the pain.

Stay safe, mamas.

And as I sat there last night and watched, I realized that in fact little man seems to have laid claim in some small way to My sweetness and made her his milk minion at the tender age of less than a year. Kudos dear boy, kudos.

30 days of kink – Day 1

Day 1: Dom, sub, switch? What Parts of BDSM Interest You? Give us an interesting in-depth definition of what that means to you. Basically define your kinky self.

I am a Dominant, I tried all of one time to switch when I was in college and before I learned the D/s elements and was just dabbling with spanking. The girl was inept, and I just felt out of place.

I also do not believe I fit into any mold as a Dominant. I am someone who cherishes and cares for sweetness, but she is not my lg and I am not a Daddy. I posted my test scores and I agree that I likely fit the ineffable and White Knight molds the best.

Beyond that I have my inner Darkness, the stuff that is truly my own and somewhat terrifying as well when it is unchecked, but that is for another day and another time.

Kneeling with sweetness

I knelt last night. Yes you read that and the title correctly. Last night the weight of the day forced sweetness to kneel before me. This wasn’t the kneel of a submissive who wants to fulfill protocol, there wasn’t a comfortable and peaceful expression. It was one of exhaustion, and a desire to give in to despair. Her anxiety had risen and fallen, come and gone all day.

So what’s a Dominant to do when this happens. We are supposed to lift the weight of the world from our submissive/s but then there are days with unobserved or unavoidably an invisible cartoon 5 ton weight drops on them. There are times when the kneeling allows sweetness to shake it off on her own and I need only show a presence by affirming my pleasure with her doing so.

Last night wasn’t one of those times, this was a situation where she needed to know I was right there with her. It’s a time when the Dominant must display his willingness to get dirty in the process. Rather than tilting her head up to mine from the place I was seated, I got down onto the floor, to her level. I joined her at this low point and brought her up from a position that physically assured her that no matter how low she feels she is going, no matter how much the weight, I will go to whatever depths to grab on, and secure her.

There was no kinky fuckery last night, there was no real protocol except that she voiced that she was Mine, that I was her Mister, and that she knew she was safe as we talked and removed the weight from the room. In short it was a great night in our dynamic.

Where can I find a girl like that

To continue from yesterday on the topic of genuine in our lifestyle and my interpretation.

It is rare that I present my dynamic in any public setting. she is not on a blog because she and I decided that at this point her headspace is well communicated and she doesn’t wish at this point to spend time otherwise dedicated to us to a blog. That said I have received questions before from people who do know her and us and recently from potential Dominants wanting tips and advice. Usually it goes something like this:

“I think I might be a Dom but don’t know how to get started. I’ve seen or heard about you (I have presences otherwise in the scene online and to a very small extent publicly) with your submissive and  that’s exactly the type of girl I want – how did you train her to be that way?”

You want a “girl like that”? O.K.

Let’s look at that. What is a woman like my little one?

She is a warrior. Without a doubt the strongest, smartest, kindest, most intelligent, most self-aware, most empathetic, most generous, most independent and most self sufficient person I know.

No one I have ever met even comes close to her in any of these areas. She’s not without flaws and weaknesses – but look at any part of her life outside of our relationship and you’d be hard pressed to find her match in any of the above qualities.

So how does a woman with all of those qualities also end up being the submissive that others want to attain?

It’s quite simple I relieve her of the burden of caring for herself.

Now. Don’t confuse this with actually breaking her to the point where she doesn’t care for herself, that should never be a goal and if you think it is just stop now.

In different terms what I am saying is that she cannot, will not and hoenstly, should not prioritize me if she has even the tiniest shadow of a doubt that I prioritize her. I might cum first but she comes first, always.

It is my responsibility to care for her more than she has ever cared for herself. She needs to see it. She needs to feel it. She needs to be confident in it. She needs to be 200% confident that I will not take advantage of her vulnerability and I will not allow her to come to any harm. She is able to submit to me completely because she does not for a second have to worry about also taking care of herself.

If I fail in that responsibility. If I for one moment put her in a position where she feels she needs to look after herself because I am not then she cannot fully surrender, her mind is divided.

It means that I don’t get to pick and choose when I’m there for her, I have to be like the postal service come snow of a tough day in court? Rain of stress? Dark of a tiring day? Or even if my mind is distracted?

SHE COMES FIRST. ALWAYS.

Even if the best I can do is sit down and ask her to recount her tasks for the day – the successes, failures and how she felt doing them. That’s what happens. Without fail. Sometimes it means hoping to HELL there’s no need for correction or punishment because I know it doesn’t matter how tired I am it will need to be addressed, or if it can’t be that there will need to be a big discussion about it. It’s also giving myself a firm talking to when I hear those thoughts and see the ego and selfishness coming back. I have my own thoughts on Self-Dominating as a Dominant

Consistently putting her and our relationship first means that I am just as present and focused on her tasks as she is. Even the simple ones.

The focus exercise where I put on a show we enjoy, have her kneel with her back to the TV and count the times I tap my leg? I don’t get to focus on the show either because guess what? I need to know whether the number she tells me is correct which means I’m sitting there pretending to watch a show but counting right along with her.

She’s writing lines? I’m there pretending to read a book or work on the computer but actually I’m counting the number of times she stops to rub or stretch her wrists and noting the facial expressions.

They want the fantasy of the woman who is so far in subspace she will agree to do literally anything for you? The woman who has PTSD and is triggered by blood and knife play but is so lost in her devotion and subservience to you she would do it anyway?

So I ask are you strong enough and dedicated enough to her to understand that state is more powerful to her than any drugs or alcohol and decide on her behalf she can no longer consent? Do you care enough not to abuse that power?

If the answer is no – you lose all rights to call yourself her protector.

Being her Dominant isn’t about me. It’s about HER. Just like for her being my submissive isn’t about her it’s about ME. And every single thing I do I get back tenfold. Twentyfold. A thousand fold.

I want her to look at me with respect and adoration. I want her to be the woman who uses all the energy she has left to simply request to serve me. I want her to run into my arms as soon as I get home even when I left for 5 fucking minutes to get milk and there’s no reason for her to have missed me that much.

I want the smartest woman I have ever known to come to me when she has problems.

The kindest and most empathetic asking for advice on the best way to help others.

The warrior who faces her battles head on and dares her demons to do their worst? I want that woman to reach out for me because her favorite character in a book or on a tv show died. Or there was loud noise and it made her jump. Or she woke up and I wasn’t there.

The independent and self sufficient woman who has felt that she has had to take care of herself for longer than she cares to remember who relies on me to message her to remind her to engage in self-care because she gets deeply involved with her projects, who relies on me to sometimes step on her toes a bit to get her where she needs to be, and understands that sometimes the best place is where she most doesn’t want it to be.

I want the girl who puts so many walls up with everyone else who responds to stress with a need to be broken down and torn a part because she knows I will put on my work clothes and build her back. Piece by Piece. Stronger than before. As long as that might take.

And yes I want the insatiable sex toy. Who works herself ragged for 12 hours at work, comes home to find me there and gets on her knees and opens her mouth without a word.

The first step in training her to be my perfect submissive is allowing her to become my perfect submissive and the only way to do that is to relieve her of the burden of caring and worrying about herself and her own needs.

If I can’t do that for her then she can’t properly let go and submit to me. THAT is our exchange.

This is what really makes us different from vanilla couples. There is no room for selfishness or ego. I put her first. She puts me first. It’s the only way our needs are met.

If it seems like too much work. If you’re too selfish or too lazy or lack the will or lack the time or lack the energy…if you’re not ready for the responsibility. Not ready for the reality then you’re not ready to be a Dominant.

And that is what I will continue to tell the people who inquire.

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The genuine article

If one was to google search into the lifestyle, I have the feeling that many guys  fantasize about sexually dominating women. But I also have the feeling that most of them only and exclusively have this  “fantasy”.

Now I will preface this by saying this is just my opinion and of course there are few definites in the life, that said in short I do not feel they have the inner need to take on the responsibility this brings with it. There is the huge misconception that being a Dominant is something that is a purely sexual thing. It is not. It can be in some dynamics I suppose but I guess I have never felt that fully completed me or my partners.  But supposing that “bedroom only” is a fulfilling venture. Even “just” sexual domination demands A LOT of communication, devotion, and respect for your partner. And that is what I see everywhere: The lack of respect.

“Just sexual” or no, domination is way, way, way more than making someone be at “your service”. Actually it’s the exact opposite of that. A Dominant will make nobody be at their service. Domination means proving to their partner that they are worth submitting to them and that they can handle the responsibility they are given. And so the other person will happily be “at their service” by free will.

In my humble opinion, someone who is really dominant wants to be responsible for a person’s well-being. At some point I will likely provide an example of my “required expectations” in any agreement/contract I have submissives enter into. But I digress, and in short I feel if someone is only showing interest in sexual gratification of any kind, chances are indeed that they are only wishing and fantasizing about being a Dominant.

For full disclosure, I am someone who lives in and works in a small place and thus I do not go out and let my D/s flag fly. That said from my lurking and doing some online networking, all Dominants I met and that I consider to be “genuine” have one thing in common: Respect and real caring for others. Because they exactly know that the sex-part is something they don’t even have to waste a thought on in the beginning. If a person proves to you that you can trust them enough that you even submit to them, you will do anything for them.

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All a matter of perspective

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They see a young power couple. He is a straight cut young professional who thrives and is well respected in his community, while she is a strong, independent, beautiful young woman who is thriving in her own field.

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I see a power couple as well, but I am your Sir and you are mine. You allow yourself to drop the hard exterior when we are our true selves. My darkness is what your darkness needs and vice versa. You kneel before me willingly and wait my request for you to act.

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They see a beautiful necklace with precious stones on the pendant while they examine it.

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I gently run my fingers over your collar as we both are reminded of the night you pledged yourself to me. I wear the key to the locked pendant around my neck as a sign that I am the only one able to unlock every part of you and to signify that you are never closed off from me if I so choose.

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They see a young married couple, with a husband whispering sweet nothings in his still blushing bride’s ear.

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I am whispering in your ear that I will be tying you down tonight using the bed restraints and having my way with all of your holes.

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They see a gentle guiding hand on the back an almost afterthought as we move towards our table to eat.

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You feel the reassurance that I am there, and have your back. That you are mine and everything is ok.

They hear you say Mister as you refer to me and think “What a cute nickname”.

I smile proudly as you follow protocol for when we are in public and Sir isn’t acceptable.

They see a husband and wife who love one another.

I see much much more.

It’s all a matter of perspective, but knowing that ours, the one that no-one else can ever hope to have, is the best one of all.

In the Eyes of Justice

You could almost see the words escaping your smart mouth. Hopeless regret as they speed away from you like bullets from a gun. Just you know in the split second, I won’t be the one injured and the shrapnel of the situation will have but one place to go.

My tired eyes look up at you from behind my desk. The blue is soft and an almost grey. My eyes study you as my face remains otherwise emotionless. I ask you to repeat what you just said.

Your eyes dive for the carpeted floor, your hair loosely pulled back into a ponytail cascades over your neck and flutters softly as you shake your head slightly.

“Eyes up” my voice says in a loud baritone.

You shake your head slightly again muttering “Nothing Sir” softly as you pray to every imaginable deity that the skies would swallow you up, or offer you a chance to go back and catch those words, anything to avoid what you know is coming next.

My shined black dress shoes and the pant leg of my jet black suit pants appear in your downcast eyes vision. You close your eyes quickly hoping that this is a bad dream and you will wake up lying beside me, wrapped in a warm embrace, head lying against my bare chest with my scent filling you with warmth. Eyes open, still shoes and pants and it’s about to get worse as you feel my strong hand come up to your neck and wrap around the pendant of your collar bringing your eyes up.

Gone is the tired and soft grey. A fiery and intensely deep cobalt blue has set into the melting stare locked into your eyes.

And into my eyes you are forced to look. So penetrating and consuming that you don’t realize you have sunk into a kneeling position until I break eye contact and the trance dissipates. Gathering yourself you place your hands on your thighs the way you have been taught and look straight ahead as you softly swallow as you see me head to my locked desk drawer which you know houses the instrumentation of your punishment. My eyes tell you everything you need to know, and into my eyes, the eyes of Justice you look as your heart sounds its own beat of anticipation to execution of sentence as I step towards you intent on reminding you of your place in our dynamic.

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The first

I am not exactly sure what to do with the first, so I suppose I will go back to the first or beginning of my discovery of the Darkness inside.

I grew up in a setting that didn’t allow for much….exploration. I come from a family that is in the public eye and given the small town setting I was raised in, I knew most everyone and everyone knew me. I was a typical teen male growing up in the late 90’s and early 00’s. I did some exploration on the internet, and figured other stuff out as I went. But there was always something not quite “right”. Then one day I saw a posed picture of a girl struggling over a guy’s, presumably her boyfriend, knee with her pants and panties pulled down and he was clearly spanking her. Cue physical reaction. But this cannot be right. Pictures of hot women in next to nothing, yes. This, this wasn’t natural and was “sick” but I liked it. So began my underground shaming and the beginning of the chaining of the puppy darkness inside me.

After I left my parents house I was sneaking peeks at spanko stuff when I could and when I went to college I managed to discover that there was a group, an almost family into ttwd, but even in that moment while I enjoyed the concept of T/b and Spanker/spankee, it still felt like while close there was still a part of me that was missing.

Then a light was illuminated when I got the chance to engage in some play and discovered that I wasn’t a mere scene spanko, though I believe it is a good place for people to be if its what suits them, but I was someone who had the Wolf inside me. The Darkness has aspects of Wolf, and some days it is more prevalent than others. I discovered through interactions and experiences that I am sure at some point I will share here, that I was a Dominant persona. This discovery opened doors and provided a fenced area that I can allow the Darkness inside to roam at times. There are instances where he even appears wearing some kind of cute getup to disguise his true nature, but to send a hint of his presence in my daily life whether professional or personal.

In the beginning there was spanking, and it was good. Then there was discovery and illumination into Dominance, and it is sublime. Let there be light.