Something Sweet

I have a lot of demons in my life. Breakups that went terribly wrong, Sexual Assault, Addictions, they all haunt me to some degree, and the thing about those demons is that often they can stop you from living your life to the fullest. You spend so much time battling those demons, (or sometimes just the shadows they left behind), that you just don't have the energy to grow in the right directions.

I'm not sure what my subconscious is telling me, but last night, I dreamt that I confronted my ex-girlfriend. While she was telling lies about me to people around me, in my own dream house, I snapped. I got up, I got angry, and I confronted her about what she was saying, told her in no uncertain terms that I was not going to let her words infect my friends and my life.

And it worked! Oh, she started to fight back, but I stood firm, and told her that what she was saying was untrue, that what she implied had always been untrue, and that she was to leave my house, and not come back. She fell silent, and walked out the door.

There was a feeling in me that I couldn't really describe. Elation, Accomplishment, Relief, Victory, all of these and probably more. It was a beautiful feeling, so beautiful that I woke up. I really didn't want to wake up, but I was there with a smile on my face. I held onto that feeling for dear life, I was determined to take that feeling into sleep, have it by the time I woke up properly. It didn't survive the next few dreams, but I know what I'd accomplished.

Dreams aren't reality of course. But thoughts are, and feelings are. They're real, and cause real changes to the world. I think this is one demon that I have robbed of it's power over me. If it threatens me again, I'll remember this victory, and I can warn it that I can smack it down any time I like.

Cock Hate

I'll admit, the title of this post is probably a little misleading, but for once I wanted a title with a bit of impact!

For quite some time now, I've had a very strong desire to get my cock circumcised. I've had these desires for a while, at least a couple of years, but a few days ago me and Daddy had a full-on discussion about it. He does not share my desire for circumcision, and was desperate to figure out why I wanted to do this. I had to be honest with him - a lot of it was simply gut feeling, that I wanted to do it and that "it would look better".

Daddy was entirely dissatisfied with that, and decided to keep pushing - was I willing to deal with the repercussions? Of the pain and breaking of stitches, of the reduction in sensitivity, etc etc. Was this really something I was willing to do just for something cosmetic? Of course, even with these perfectly good points, I've been wanting this for years, and I wasn't going to just give up there. But Daddy kept at me. "I'm not sure that you've entirely thought this through. You've never been entirely at peace with your body, especially your cock, in fact you've occasionally had quite violent thoughts against it. Is this you just bring out your general self-hatred on your body?"

I had to admit, I didn't have a good response to this. It's been a long time since I've actually confronted that part of my psyche. I've been focusing so much on the positive aspects of my life, on being happy with the direction my life is taking, that I've been completely neglecting the other side of the equation. Whether I'm happy with myself.

And I'm not, really. I'm a horribly insecure person, who believes, quite honestly, that I'm a terrible, horrible person, who spends most of his social effort putting out such a wonderful image of myself that no one could possibly see the horrible person I believe myself to be. So much of my mental time is spent papering over that particular truth.

And, now that I think about it, I think Daddy might well be right. I've never had the healthiest relationship with my cock, or my genitals in general. During the first stages of our relationship, I cursed them for not doing what I wanted them to do. During one particular night when I was performing at a sex party, I even said that I was so angry that I wanted to rip it off. And I think about a lot of fetishes that I'm interested in, like CBT, and chastity, and how so many of my mental fantasies seem to involve modifying my cock or causing pain to my cock, and yeah, it kinda all falls into place, really - I really do hate my cock, a lot, but I think that's just me forcing a lot of my general self-hatred into what seems to be a safe target.

So, after a whole lot more pain and talking, Daddy told me in no uncertain terms that he wants me to actually tackle this whole self-hatred thing. If, after working on loving myself more, and feeling safer and more secure in my body, I still want to get myself circumcised, then he'll support me 100%. But, simply, he doesn't want me doing something I'll regret later, and I can't disagree with that.

But it's brought up a lot of other stuff. Is so much of my kinks really an aspect of this self-hatred, and is that really healthy for me? Daddy seems to think that it's probably a safe way of dealing with it, but I dunno. Maybe I need to change the way I work with those kinks, perhaps? I honestly don't know where to go with this information from here. How do you know what's healthy and what isn't? I mean, I'm not sure I trust introspection for this sort of stuff, since clearly my thought processes are a bit warped at this point. I'm not sure I can come to a healthy conclusion about this.

I guess, really, I should see a psychologist about this, but I'm not sure if there's a psychologist that could deal with this in a friendly-enough manner. How, exactly, do you tell a psychologist that you're actively engaging in causing pain to your genitals because you hate yourself, and that you want to explore that self-hatred, without the psych getting entirely the wrong impression? Even for a kink-friendly psychologist that'd have to be a bit of a stretch.

Or maybe I'm just projecting my own fear there. Trying to worm my way out of getting help. It's a common trait of mine. If I had any idea how to help myself from here it wouldn't be such a problem, but I'll be honest - I don't think I can help myself from here, I think I need an external voice, and this is not something Daddy can really help me with, or really should be his responsibility to help with.

Argh. I feel like I'm travelling around in circles at this point so I think I'll just stop the post there.

Other Hooked Up Thoughts

While I greatly enjoyed going to Hooked Up, I'm not going to lie - the fact that it was in a gay bar brought up a whole lot of feelings. Complicated, complicated feelings.

My teenage relationship with sex was really not a good one. As well as the Pornography Addiction, I've also had the tragic twink backstory of looking for love (well, in this case, sex) in all the wrong places. This was, by the by, before I was legal. It was the site of my first BDSM experience (which was entirely out of a porn story, meant that I never got to see the guy's face, and which left me crying in a toilet at the end because I couldn't deal), and in the end I walked away when I actually realised that I was going to sex lounges and wasn't enjoying it at all.

So, I haven't visited a sex-on-premises venue in years. After I was raped, it got even worse - even walking near a gay sex venue started to make me extremely uncomfortable. The thought of being hit on by other men became almost panic-inducing for a while. I've since started to get a little better than that, but that discomfort is still there.

And so, while I had an excellent time at Hooked Up, I still felt quite... uncomfortable for much of the time. I know that the place wasn't unsafe. It was an event where there were plenty of friends, both Daddy and the New Boy were there, but I just couldn't shake the associations of the place. I became so much happier when it was time to help Daddy with his work, because then I could focus on duty, for a change.

And as much as I understand that my past traumas are a part of myself, I'm not okay with it. I'm not okay with places having this kind of effect on me. I don't want to have issue with places I've never been, that I have no history at. I want to be able to go to a new place, and have a good time, be able to make good memories without that creeping feeling of unease.

Day 10: Limits

Part of my 30 Days of Kink

Day 10: What are your hard limits?

I'm not one of those people who claim "I have no limits" - I'm not that stupid, and if I tried that Daddy would laugh so hard he might have an aneurysm. I'm actually something of a pansy, and there are definitely off-limit activities for me.

The big one is rape scenes. Absolutely not, no way, not in a million years, no. Not as a sub, not as a top. As a rape survivor, this is not a thing that is in any way sexy or kinky to me at all. Any BDSM play needs to have consent first and foremost throughout the scene, or else I'm out of there, mentally or physically.

The other big one is anything that will cause permanent or semi-permanent damage. Things like scarification, branding, cutting, etc. My body is pretty important to me, and having it altered without my permission is seriously not something I'm willing to take. Don't get me wrong - I do fantasise about Body Modification quite a bit. But modification does not belong in a BDSM context for me - if I'm going to alter my body, it's me who gets to decide, not my Dom.

Day 5: First Kink

Part of my 30 Days of Kink

Day 5: What was your first kinky sexual experience? If you haven’t had one yet, talk about what you hope to have happen.

My first real kinky sexual experience happened when I was 18. Really, it was incredibly stupid - I had met a dom online, and ended up meeting him at a gay sex venue in Melbourne for a session. Without really meeting him, without much discussion or fanfare. In fact, for the entire first session, I was blindfolded - didn't even see him.

It was actually a pretty simple introductory scene. From what I remember (and it's been a while, I don't remember everything), he put me into stocks, there was some anal play with a couple of toys (including a fun scene where I was supposed to try and keep a heavy toy up my ass), he used some weights on my balls, there was some play with ice and candles... basically a taster of a whole lot of different types of kink, and then at the end, he put me onto a sling and fucked me (It was definitely a sex scene, because I also remember sucking him off as well). Throughout the scene he took photos and videos of me. I remember that it was a pretty intense scene to my inexperienced self.

I'm not going to say that it was a traumatic experience, because it honestly wasn't. In a lot of ways, it was probably a fairly positive experience all up. But looking back on it, I'm a little horrified by how naive and dangerous I was being due to my inexperience. Anything could have happened that night! Certainly, if I knew what I knew now, I would have done a whole lot more vetting and would have at least met the guy before the event.

But, chalk it up to experience. It definitely showed me that I was quite into kinky play and kinky sex, and thankfully no real harm came to me that night. I did end up meeting the dom later on, and got to actually see his face. But God... What a dolt I was then! Thank god I'm older and wiser now!

This Beautiful Boy Is An Addict

This week, I celebrated my 450th day of sobriety.

No, I'm not an alcoholic, and I've never been a drug addict. My sobriety takes a very interesting form instead - It has now been 455 days since I last jerked off to porn.

Now, a lot of people would say that that's silly - there's no such thing as porn addiction - that's something that Anti-sex people bandy about to try and impose their will on the public, to bring down the BDSMers. And when people take this tack, they point out there's nothing to get addicted to - porn is just an activity. And I think that for the vast majority of people, this is true - a lot of people watch porn, get a lot of pleasure out of it, and never get addicted at all to it.

I however, was not that lucky. Porn for me started to become a problem, a serious one, in fact. My porn watching became a major force in my life, I'd spend nights finding new porn constantly, since any given video or picture would have a very short life span. I was always looking for something new, interesting, exotic, dangerous - the minute something became banal, it was no longer worth watching.

In short, my porn watching became an escape, an escape from a life that I was never really happy with, with a partner that was becoming less and less in love with. I jerked off to porn to give me a quick happy that would make the badness of my life disappear for a while.

Of course, I didn't know that at the time. It took my Daddy to finally make the connection that my problem was a real addiction, after he saw the kind of porn that I had started to watch. We eventually realised that I was really using my entire sexuality as an addictive escape from the real word, and had been since I before I was legally an adult. I think I can honestly say that I relied quite a lot on our relationship to maintain my sobriety over those first few months, for which I thank him so very much for.

I bring up this addiction because, as you might expect, it makes for some unfortunately problems in the kink scene, as well as in my normal explorations of my own sexuality. Because watching porn by myself is now entirely off-limits, I don't have the ability to see if I like a particular kink by watching porn and seeing if it gets me off. And hell, even if I did, it wouldn't prove anything - by the end, there was very little porn that I didn't consider hot (although very vanilla stuff became rather passe). Anything new would probably turn me on, but I couldn't trust if that was something I was really interested in, or whether I was getting hot because I was watching porn.

It also means that I often get very uncomfortable at kink events, since there's often porn playing in the background (or other people playing in the background). While these days I'm getting better, there's always a residual anxiety whenever porn is in the room. At the very least, it starts getting difficult to feel sexy, because I have to start intellectualising my surroundings, which is a very simple way of killing my interest in sex.

And things get worse when you combine it with the other traumas that I've had. Right now, it's nearly impossible for me to try reaching out to other people in the scene to explore things that my Daddy can't or won't explore with me, because the idea of asking someone to do something with me purely on a sexual level makes me really anxious, even if I know them quite well. I get just as anxious if people ask me directly as well. It's frustrating as hell, and I don't really have any way of getting past it yet.

Maybe one day I'll manage to reach a healthy sexuality, and I hope that my kink and my relationship with my Daddy will continue to be the healthy influences that they are now.

Maybe.