Dweaver999 talks about the correlation between sex and kink.

A question that I’ve seen come up on blogs and forums before is just what is the relationship, if any, between sex and kink.  This question is of particular interest to me for reasons I’ll try to make clear.  To help show what I mean, I need to explain my personal history with kink, or BDSM.

The first time I encountered BDSM was in a true crime magazine.  I was 13 and delivering newspapers.  My route took me by the local newsstand and they had these magazines with scantily clad women on the front and blaring headlines about kidnappings, rapes and other crimes against women.  I found them fascinating, but you could hardly call it sexually arousing for me.

However, I shortly thereafter, had my first masturbation experience.  Needless to say, I masturbated a lot after that, though, there weren’t any fantasies involved.  At that age, a boy needs nothing, mentally to become aroused and reach orgasm.  It just took some stroking of the old cock, and wham, I was cumming.  Read more…

My First Bitch:

Don’t you ever get bored of being offended? I mean, really.  I haven’t even completed the first paragraph of my post yet, and I’m willing to bet you’re already offended.  Doesn’t that seem kinda… silly? It’s gotta be stressful.  And exhausting!

I think the best phrase my parents taught me was “So what?” Which is usually followed by “That’s his problem.” As in, “Johnny just said you have a fat ass!” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah!” ~shrug~ “So what? That’s his problem.”

You should try it.  Go ahead.  Do it right now.  Here… I’ll help you out by reiterating my first paragraph:

Rayne says you get offended too easily and too often. So what? That’s her problem!

See how easy that is?  Read more…

It’s weird, after going through the motions of cutting off all ties with someone you can no longer deal with, noticing all the little things you picked up from them.  Especially when you swore you’d never be like them.

Completely unrelated…

I’m finding myself annoyed with some of the restrictions people seem to put on reviews.  Not just their own reviews, but other people’s reviews, as well.

Disclaimer: I can’t really talk about this without it sounding like I’m pointing fingers, so I’m just gonna say it.  The opinions I discuss in this post are opinions held by me and other reviewers, not (to my knowledge) the companies I review for, and they’re not limited to Eden Fantasys reviewers.  Please believe me when I say I mean no offense to anyone.  I just don’t agree with what they’re saying.  Read more…

I read a post by kitti where she says:

“It’s scary because of the recent changes. I’m not sure he knows where our final destination is.”

That got me to thinking about Masters and their ultimate goals.

To be honest, I have no real destination in mind for rayne and I. Obviously, I will keep training her and continue to mold her into the slave I want. However, I have no specific goal in mind; no place I specifically want to be when we’re in our twilight years. There is just no check box labeled “Complete” in my mind.

A part of this is that, as people, we’re constantly changing. In the very beginning of our relationship the thought of having rayne service another man was abhorrent to me. At the time I felt there was no way I’d ever be comfortable with such a thing.

Then very soon after, while we were still initially discovering our sexuality together, an opportunity arose and I found that I wanted to take it. All in all it was a good experience and taught us both a lot. I would’ve never foreseen that had I thought about it just a year earlier.

I am still not the most spontaneous person in the world, but I’m sure rayne can attest to the fact that even in the years she’s known me I’ve changed a lot. I no longer need everything planned out in advance, and I’m able to “go with the flow” much more than I used to.

So what does that have to do with anything? I know there are things right now that I want to work on with rayne regarding her training. I’ll be working on verbal training via command words, for example, but the ultimate and final destination is still murky in my mind, and I’m finding that it sits just fine with me.

I find that it’s easier to concentrate on short and medium term goals, rather than stressing over the long term destination. I do think about the future, of course, but I’m flexible as far as how things turn out. One thing I know… I will be rayne’s Owner, Master and Husband, and rayne will be my property, slave and wife.

Anything in addition to that is just gravy.

One of Master’s biggest complaints, lately, has been that I’m cold.  Distant.

I don’t touch Him often.  I rarely, if ever, initiate sex.  If I kiss Him, it’s often because He was making kissy faces at me.  I’ve gotten really uncomfortable with all things intimate.

And I don’t let anyone else touch me.  Never have, really.  I will avoid touching people as if grazing against them will mean my death.  So it’s not like I’m interested in getting the attention elsewhere or have lost interest in getting it from Him.  I’ve just gotten really uncomfortable with all things intimate.

I get embarrassed when I talk about sex.  I can’t talk about anyone’s genitals without stuttering or turning beat red or blurting the words out like I’m trying to shock you.  It’s really that I’m shocked they’re coming out of my mouth.

And I’m really not sure why this is.

Yeah… My parents treated sex like it should be a secret.  But in three months with Master, I had gotten over that.  In three months with Master, I was embarrassing Him with the things that would come out of my mouth.

And then, a few years ago, talking about sex started to embarrass me.  Pain started to become something I couldn’t handle.  Being a slave became something I should be embarrassed by.

I’m not sure where it came from.  Maybe because I stopped interacting with people in the BDSM and sex-positive communities.  Maybe because the only people I knew were vanilla and kept their sex lives private.  Maybe because people kept telling me how I was living was wrong. Read more…

So…  Where to start.

I’ve fucked more than thirty people, male and female.  Less females than men.  Most of my relationships with females didn’t involve sex.  And when they did, it was rarely what one would consider fucking.

I love all things sexual.  I hear submissives and masochists say things like “I can’t get off unless I get hurt.” or “Sex just isn’t worth it without pain.” or what-have-you.  But I’ve not found a thing yet that prevents me from cumming.  Except maybe being so angry I’m completely turned off.  But even then, force is a sure-fire way to get me all hot and bothered.  So anger doesn’t stave it off long.

Until recently, that’s made me feel really friggin’ guilty.

I don’t know what my parents tried to teach me about sex.  I can’t say for certain that they intentionally gave me a negative predisposition to it.  But all things sexual were off limits.

My mother thought it better I learn from school what my period and sex were.  And by that time I already knew.

In kindergarten I was fingered by a boy in ninth grade, not knowing enough to even want to stop him, and really liked it.  And then my mom got pregnant and bought me a book called “So that’s where babies come from!” (which I can’t even find on Amazon!).  I thought, “Finally.  I can find out if I’m right about sex.”  Read more…

My freshmen year in high school (I may have told
this story at some point, I guess we'll see.) I had this huge crush on
this really sweet guy. He was blond with bright blue eyes and pale
skin, which was totally out of character for me. I've always been all
about dark and mysterious. He was in my grade and he was so incredibly
full of life. Smiling and laughing almost all the time, friendly,
caring… everything I was not. He had a girl friend and she and I were
sort of friends so I tried to avoid letting him know about my crush.

Read more…

New school Democrat? (Blog thing behind…)

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I don't like writing in third person (Cue Master's voice: It doesn't matter what you like, slave.). It makes it difficult, sometimes, for me to convey my thoughts… to articulate the things I want to. I've never really thought in third person on a regular basis – even when I was writing and speaking in third person, both in real life and on the net, full time. It's never been even an unspoken rule that I write in third person here, I just started doing it. I probably won't make it a practice, this writing in first person thing, unless there's a larger response to the slave speaking in first person or I'm given permission. Today is just an "I need to babble about anything and everything that comes to mind and doing it in first person will make it easier on me." type of thing. And as I say that, I'm constantly having to go back and correct my third person mistakes so it doesn"t get confusing.

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To say this one irritated Master Melen yesterday might be putting it lightly. The progression of the way He refers to her when trying to get her attention usually goes from an overexaggerated "slave", to remind her quickly where she stands, to an angry "bitch" and even angrier "cunt". Last night we skipped "slave" all together.

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