Yesterday, I received in the mail a shiny new credit card. I have very particular plans about this card, in particular about the first purchase.
This weekend, me and my Daddy are going to go to a store in Collingwood, and pick up a piece of hardware that I have been fantasising about more and more ever since we start my current orgasm denial stint. I will be picking up a cock cage.
I'm so well and truly excited about this, like you wouldn't believe. Well before my current stint, I've been excited about chastity devices. I love looking at them, I love seeing them, and I love the power they represent. And this weekend, I am going to make that a reality - for once, a fantasy that I care so much about, I will take the steps to actually make happen.
It's a milestone in more than a few ways, I think.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Defiance
It started with a silly argument.
You know, those tiny little arguments that mean absolutely nothing at all. In this case, it was whether restaurants should serve Caesar Salad with tomatoes in it. Daddy had expressed disgust at the notion, while I thought that it would be delicious and that I'd love to try it at a restaurant. Jokingly, Daddy told me to take back what I'd said, to say that a restaurant should never serve Caesar Salad with tomatoes. I refused, saying that I cannot tell a lie to my Daddy.
As the joking argument went on, I made concessions. I told him he'd won. I'd told him he was right. But I wouldn't say it. I wouldn't say the words he had told me to say. He revoked my "nomming" privileges. I fought back, trying to nom him without such privileges, he then restrained me with my hair. Still, I wouldn't say the words he told me to say.
And so I started to hug Daddy, to move the conversation away from the order given - to win the fight by running away, so to speak. But even then Daddy held firm, telling me, again, to say the words. I told him, again and again, I couldn't - that Daddy had told me never to lie to him, and that to say those words would be a lie.
In the end, I relented. I said those words. I qualified them at the end, of course, trying to save face, but I did what my Daddy told me to do. I said the words he instructed me to say.
And afterwards, once all the giggles and laughter left, we felt that something had happened then. The ridiculousness of the situation hid the fact that there was a serious play for power in that conversation. I was directly defying my Daddy's demands, almost blatantly. My Daddy, realising that defiance, then pushed to reassert his control. The two of us started feeling uneasy, and I, especially, became quite concerned at what had happened, As we talked about the problems, I got more and more disconcerted at what had happenned.
Thing is, I'm a generally congenial person. My submission to my Daddy is given freely - what he wants, I want. In return, I trust my Daddy not to ask me to do something that would be impossible or dangerous for me to do. My submission is one where, simply, I am required to do what I would normally do anyway.
In this case, I made the decision to actively fight against my Daddy, and my Daddy made the decision to enforce his will. This was a scary thing - it's the first time our wills have been tested against each other, and as might be expected, I was the one that lost. Before this point, me and Daddy's relationship was a safe one, one in where I knew that Daddy would never force me to do things, only order me to. Now, I know better - Daddy can use force against me.
Later on that night, we hugged and talked more about it. My fearful reaction to the whole affair had triggered something much deeper in my head - If I was reacting this badly to my Daddy's force, was I really able to be his Boy? Could I really go on with this. Then a sudden fear of abandonment came over me. If I can't be his boy, that'll mean he'll take my collar away from, me, and if he does that, I can't be with him anymore, and things will go badly and everything will collapse on our relationship. Needless to say, some seriously powerful emotions, and I broke down in his arms.
Daddy, thankfully, calmed me down. He and I pointed out to me that I was never going to be a perfect boy, that he didn't expect perfection, and my reaction to his force would only break our relationship apart if that was what I wanted. Slowly, but surely, I started to calm down, started to push away from that primal fear of abandonment. Then, we went out, me in a rope harness, had dinner, missed a movie, and otherwise enjoyed the night. Daddy had planned for that night to reconnect the two of us to our BDSM side, by some surreptitious public play, but instead it seems the world knew better how to make us connect.
You know, those tiny little arguments that mean absolutely nothing at all. In this case, it was whether restaurants should serve Caesar Salad with tomatoes in it. Daddy had expressed disgust at the notion, while I thought that it would be delicious and that I'd love to try it at a restaurant. Jokingly, Daddy told me to take back what I'd said, to say that a restaurant should never serve Caesar Salad with tomatoes. I refused, saying that I cannot tell a lie to my Daddy.
As the joking argument went on, I made concessions. I told him he'd won. I'd told him he was right. But I wouldn't say it. I wouldn't say the words he had told me to say. He revoked my "nomming" privileges. I fought back, trying to nom him without such privileges, he then restrained me with my hair. Still, I wouldn't say the words he told me to say.
And so I started to hug Daddy, to move the conversation away from the order given - to win the fight by running away, so to speak. But even then Daddy held firm, telling me, again, to say the words. I told him, again and again, I couldn't - that Daddy had told me never to lie to him, and that to say those words would be a lie.
In the end, I relented. I said those words. I qualified them at the end, of course, trying to save face, but I did what my Daddy told me to do. I said the words he instructed me to say.
And afterwards, once all the giggles and laughter left, we felt that something had happened then. The ridiculousness of the situation hid the fact that there was a serious play for power in that conversation. I was directly defying my Daddy's demands, almost blatantly. My Daddy, realising that defiance, then pushed to reassert his control. The two of us started feeling uneasy, and I, especially, became quite concerned at what had happened, As we talked about the problems, I got more and more disconcerted at what had happenned.
Thing is, I'm a generally congenial person. My submission to my Daddy is given freely - what he wants, I want. In return, I trust my Daddy not to ask me to do something that would be impossible or dangerous for me to do. My submission is one where, simply, I am required to do what I would normally do anyway.
In this case, I made the decision to actively fight against my Daddy, and my Daddy made the decision to enforce his will. This was a scary thing - it's the first time our wills have been tested against each other, and as might be expected, I was the one that lost. Before this point, me and Daddy's relationship was a safe one, one in where I knew that Daddy would never force me to do things, only order me to. Now, I know better - Daddy can use force against me.
Later on that night, we hugged and talked more about it. My fearful reaction to the whole affair had triggered something much deeper in my head - If I was reacting this badly to my Daddy's force, was I really able to be his Boy? Could I really go on with this. Then a sudden fear of abandonment came over me. If I can't be his boy, that'll mean he'll take my collar away from, me, and if he does that, I can't be with him anymore, and things will go badly and everything will collapse on our relationship. Needless to say, some seriously powerful emotions, and I broke down in his arms.
Daddy, thankfully, calmed me down. He and I pointed out to me that I was never going to be a perfect boy, that he didn't expect perfection, and my reaction to his force would only break our relationship apart if that was what I wanted. Slowly, but surely, I started to calm down, started to push away from that primal fear of abandonment. Then, we went out, me in a rope harness, had dinner, missed a movie, and otherwise enjoyed the night. Daddy had planned for that night to reconnect the two of us to our BDSM side, by some surreptitious public play, but instead it seems the world knew better how to make us connect.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Fantasy Boy for April, 2010
So, last month I missed my regular Fantasy Boy segment, but I still want it to be regular, so here we go! This month, I'm devoting my fantasy list to my Dominant side - here are some fantasies where I'm doing things, rather than merely receiving things from others. Some of these fantasies straddle the line, somewhat, but they're all related to my dominant side.
Training Dom
I have a sub, a sub that is wholly mine, at least for a session. But of course, I'm a very inexperienced Dom, and my Daddy knows that. So, what better thing to do than to have my Daddy "supervise" my Domminess? He teaches me about each implement I use, tells me exactly how to use each device. As we get further into the session, I become less of an extension of my Daddy's will, and become more willing to branch out, experiment with my new-found skills, and as
Okay, so this is a little bit cheaty, but it's a huge fantasy, the Dom training the sub to be a better Dom. It's a fantasy with a goal - I don't have a lot of experience in a lot of Dommy areas. And it's the kind of fantasy where I get to have both sides at once - I get to actively Switch in the same scene, and that's an intensely exciting idea for me.
Me and Daddy don't tend to participate together in scenes a lot, mostly because when people ask to scene with Daddy, they're asking for him, in particular, and it's very poor taste to bait and switch and turn a scene into a training scene for little Dom-in-training. But in all honesty? I have a desire to have Dom skills at least half as awesome as my Daddy's skills. That itself would be pretty awesome.
The Suitcase of Sensation
In a previous post, I made mention of being interested in building up my collection of sensation tools (at the moment, if I'm playing with sensation stuff, it tends to get a bit MacGuyverish, as I rummage through the blindfolds, floggers, crops and other toys in my toybox and press them into alternative usage. But in my head, I have this idea of an entire suitcase, dedicated to sensation play. Gloves made of any number of materials, wartenburg wheels and other pointy things, massagers, even (in this wonderful, fantastic world), funky cold devices and heat-wands. This box full of play equipment comes out when I have avictim play-partner on the table. I blindfold them, and then one by one, they get to experience every sensation at my disposal, always guessing what might come next, and what I'm really doing to them at that point. At the end, they get to guess which sensations are which, and how I did everything I did.
Training Dom
I have a sub, a sub that is wholly mine, at least for a session. But of course, I'm a very inexperienced Dom, and my Daddy knows that. So, what better thing to do than to have my Daddy "supervise" my Domminess? He teaches me about each implement I use, tells me exactly how to use each device. As we get further into the session, I become less of an extension of my Daddy's will, and become more willing to branch out, experiment with my new-found skills, and as
Okay, so this is a little bit cheaty, but it's a huge fantasy, the Dom training the sub to be a better Dom. It's a fantasy with a goal - I don't have a lot of experience in a lot of Dommy areas. And it's the kind of fantasy where I get to have both sides at once - I get to actively Switch in the same scene, and that's an intensely exciting idea for me.
Me and Daddy don't tend to participate together in scenes a lot, mostly because when people ask to scene with Daddy, they're asking for him, in particular, and it's very poor taste to bait and switch and turn a scene into a training scene for little Dom-in-training. But in all honesty? I have a desire to have Dom skills at least half as awesome as my Daddy's skills. That itself would be pretty awesome.
The Suitcase of Sensation
In a previous post, I made mention of being interested in building up my collection of sensation tools (at the moment, if I'm playing with sensation stuff, it tends to get a bit MacGuyverish, as I rummage through the blindfolds, floggers, crops and other toys in my toybox and press them into alternative usage. But in my head, I have this idea of an entire suitcase, dedicated to sensation play. Gloves made of any number of materials, wartenburg wheels and other pointy things, massagers, even (in this wonderful, fantastic world), funky cold devices and heat-wands. This box full of play equipment comes out when I have a
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Beware of Looking Back...
As I have started to take more effort into my kinky identity, I've begun to notice more and more how my submissive tendencies seem to mold almost every aspect of my life.
But that can be very dangerous thinking. I read recently about Sub Frenzy, and one particular line struck me:
See, if I honestly think back, I recall having fantasies of being a human pet as far back as 5-6 years old. And I'm not even talking about being someone's pet dog, I'm talking full-on, naked-boy being taken in by adults as a real pet human, with roaming around in backyard and dinners in bowls. When I think back, I can recall these fantasies being quite detailed. For most of my life, I have always been a very passive individual, which has lead to me being a victim of childhood teasing for most of my primary and high-school career. In my relationships, I've always been afraid of taking initiative (which has lead to one relationship petering out, and another lasting well after it's time).
When you start looking at all these bits and pieces of my history, you can't help but notice the patterns. It looks like, from square one, that I was destined to be a subbie of some description.
But then, if I decide to look at other parts of my life, I can see that I was never afraid of taking leadership roles if I was confident enough in myself. With my second girlfriend, we started my BDSM experience with me being her dominant in a few scenes, and I definitely enjoyed those times (looking back at those time, my god the things we did, I wouldn't risk doing them the same way now). As much as I don't like making decisions, I can certainly be quite confident in giving people advice (which can be unfortunate, because I often sound quite confident even when I'm totally wrong!).
While exploring my identity as a submissive Boy is all new and exciting at this point, I think it's worth letting myself know that yes, I do have other identities, most of which are quite important to me still, and still make up just as much of me as my kinky identities. I am more than just a Boy, I am a complex human being, and every now and then, it's important to make a point of remembering that.
But that can be very dangerous thinking. I read recently about Sub Frenzy, and one particular line struck me:
All at once they begin to 'sort' the events and motivations that have occurred over their entire lives. Seeing the patterns, the hints, the presence of their desires in so many different ways. It explains previous unexplainable actions they may have taken and views the actions of themselves and others from an entirely different standpoint
See, if I honestly think back, I recall having fantasies of being a human pet as far back as 5-6 years old. And I'm not even talking about being someone's pet dog, I'm talking full-on, naked-boy being taken in by adults as a real pet human, with roaming around in backyard and dinners in bowls. When I think back, I can recall these fantasies being quite detailed. For most of my life, I have always been a very passive individual, which has lead to me being a victim of childhood teasing for most of my primary and high-school career. In my relationships, I've always been afraid of taking initiative (which has lead to one relationship petering out, and another lasting well after it's time).
When you start looking at all these bits and pieces of my history, you can't help but notice the patterns. It looks like, from square one, that I was destined to be a subbie of some description.
But then, if I decide to look at other parts of my life, I can see that I was never afraid of taking leadership roles if I was confident enough in myself. With my second girlfriend, we started my BDSM experience with me being her dominant in a few scenes, and I definitely enjoyed those times (looking back at those time, my god the things we did, I wouldn't risk doing them the same way now). As much as I don't like making decisions, I can certainly be quite confident in giving people advice (which can be unfortunate, because I often sound quite confident even when I'm totally wrong!).
While exploring my identity as a submissive Boy is all new and exciting at this point, I think it's worth letting myself know that yes, I do have other identities, most of which are quite important to me still, and still make up just as much of me as my kinky identities. I am more than just a Boy, I am a complex human being, and every now and then, it's important to make a point of remembering that.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Sensation
Last weekend, me and Daddy went to an Event in Melbourne where a Slave Auction for charity was running. We both had good fun bidding on the various people on offer. But looking at the various people on the block, both Tops and Bottoms, with their various talents on offer, I had to ask myself, if I were placed on the Auction block, what could I offer?
I had to think about it for a while, to be honest. I'm still pretty new in the scene, and I don't have a lot of skills in a lot of areas. As a bottom, I couldn't really give myself out for, say, pain play because that's not what I'm into at all. As a top, I'm still a very nervous and green top, and I can't go nearly as far as more experienced tops. I'm still very much in learning stages for everything.
But a few days after the event, it hit me exactly what I'd be willing to offer to people, even if I didn't know them very well - Sensation Play. It's a part of kink that I honestly have a great deal of confidence in myself in. When I play with other people, the vast majority of my play with them often turns out to be me playing with various sensations.
Hell, I can honestly say that Sensation is one of my geek-out subjects. I have grand plans, you see, of going to fabric stores, feeling a bunch of lovely fabrics, and then making a bunch of sensation gloves. I'm still planning to get a Wartenburg wheel, and the difference between, say, leather floggers and plastic ones is an endless source of curiousity. As much as my Daddy is obsessed with Rope, I think I could honestly say that I have the same fascination about sensation.
The question being, of course, whether I would offer myself as a sensation Top or a sensation Bottom, but I think the answer to that would be "Well, what would you prefer? I'm easy either way!". I think I would be confident enough to Top someone well enough to be worth bidding on, and I think I'd put on enough of a show to entertain for the price of admission!
I had to think about it for a while, to be honest. I'm still pretty new in the scene, and I don't have a lot of skills in a lot of areas. As a bottom, I couldn't really give myself out for, say, pain play because that's not what I'm into at all. As a top, I'm still a very nervous and green top, and I can't go nearly as far as more experienced tops. I'm still very much in learning stages for everything.
But a few days after the event, it hit me exactly what I'd be willing to offer to people, even if I didn't know them very well - Sensation Play. It's a part of kink that I honestly have a great deal of confidence in myself in. When I play with other people, the vast majority of my play with them often turns out to be me playing with various sensations.
Hell, I can honestly say that Sensation is one of my geek-out subjects. I have grand plans, you see, of going to fabric stores, feeling a bunch of lovely fabrics, and then making a bunch of sensation gloves. I'm still planning to get a Wartenburg wheel, and the difference between, say, leather floggers and plastic ones is an endless source of curiousity. As much as my Daddy is obsessed with Rope, I think I could honestly say that I have the same fascination about sensation.
The question being, of course, whether I would offer myself as a sensation Top or a sensation Bottom, but I think the answer to that would be "Well, what would you prefer? I'm easy either way!". I think I would be confident enough to Top someone well enough to be worth bidding on, and I think I'd put on enough of a show to entertain for the price of admission!
Friday, April 2, 2010
An Adventure in Purgatory
So, one of the kink groups that we are a part of have started doing yearly excursions to a place called Purgatory in Melbourne, a wonderful venue that, for the time-being, has been pretty much closed to public events. As such, it's always quite an exciting opportunity to play there, in an environment where there's much less restrictions than at a public event. This year, me and Daddy decided that we were going to enjoy the hell out of the night, and enjoy it we did!
The first thing he did was take me down, tie me up to one of the wall points in the main area, and then started stripping me. This was pretty much the reason why I didn't end up bringing any sexy clothes with me - because I was just planning to be naked most of the time. I'm actually quite enjoying all the takedown that Daddy has been throwing about (so to speak) - Takedown is a really clear and obvious way for me to give up physical control, which I'm always a fan of. After he stripped me down, he started hitting me, which was nice, but not as good as the initial takedown! Again, me not with the pain much, but the taking away of control? I'm all down with that.
I also got to play in the big hanging cage that they have at Purgatory. Last year I found it absolutely wonderful, and this year was not an exception. The cage is in an old birdcage design, with a block and tackle for lifting it up into the air. Last year I found it really exhilarating, and of course, long-time readers will note that I'm a big, big fan of cages generally. Cages that are up in the air, where people can just move your cage around without care? It adds up to large amounts of awesomeness!
Lest you think that I only repeated the things I did last year, however, I did get to pop one particular cherry, which I was glad with - needle play. Now, This has been a long road for me, this one. The first time I saw needle play, I very nearly wigged out - I'm not a big fan of needles at all (I'm one of those people who close their eyes when needles need to enter into my life). Over time, I've been working on slowly attenuating that fear, mostly by being around while Daddy does needle play on other people. Some time ago, Daddy stated that, as part of an agreement we had, that he would like me to try needle play. We'd tried it once, and at the time, my general fear just messed with both of us before the first needle went in. At this point, I'd done enough work on my needle fear that we felt I'd be alright. In fact, we were both fairly certain that once I got into it, I'd love it - it's just the fear of the unknown, and the anticipation, that was causing me all the problems.
So! At Purgatory, we took advantage of their Medical room, and Daddy plopped me down on the bed and decided to stick me with some needles, while I made sure I was nice and relaxed. The verdict here? Me likey, a lot. My biggest fear was always the pain (as pain is not something I typically cope with well), but as it turned out, the pain was pretty insignificant. Daddy noted that I blissed out a little, even when the needles were in, and I have to say it was a very fun sensation. Part of me is wondering if I can convince my daddy to poke me a bit more at the next big event we go to.
One of the things Daddy decided that he wanted to do was make me into a My Little Pony boy. To this end, we bought some blue latex paint, and we were planning on painting it on me when we got there. Alas, I am well away from my last waxing, and a quick test on my arm led us to the conclusion that it just wasn't going to work on the night.
It actually makes me kinda sad, just a little - the idea of painting myself up in latex paint is something that really tickled my fancy. Fortunately, Daddy has said that he still definitely wants to play with the stuff, but he'll wait until I next get myself waxed before he does it. Which just gives me a good reason to go get waxed! I'll admit, I've been putting it off for a very long time, and frankly, I like getting waxed - just the money situation didn't really allow for it, so I fell out of it. Now, I'm in a much better situation, so waxing time it is! I'm really curious as to how latex paint will feel once it's all painted down (me, wondering about sensation? No, couldn't be me!)
All in all, a very fun, wonderful trip. I certainly hope we're going to be up for another trip next year!
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