I answered a question in the forums about new people getting into things and thought it would be useful here.

The longer I’m in this the more I realize there’s not a one size fits all, but it centers around varied kinks. Submissives come up with the degree of their submission in their own minds. Doms, with their thing, too.

What you can do is introduce others to some of the bdsm techniques such as spanking, flogging, bondage or whatever has the particular person’s interest or what you think would fit and see how they progress from there. The more you can expose them to, the better. For example, a submissive who gets into being spanked can turn it into a major D/s like part of her life or simply view it as a play thing as many do. The Dom may like to spank and not deal with the other aspects of D/s.

Many years ago I knew what I liked the first time a girl had me spank her using a hairbrush and I cummed doing it. Heh, so much for self-control back then. So I think helping them find their kink guides them in the way they will eventually go.

Chain wrote me this: “I guess it's easy enough to dream the extreme, but not always so much to actually go through it. During these long periods of absence from you, I find myself drawn to thoughts of more extreme things, but I know in my heart I could never handle what I imagine. Why is it that we always dream darker?”

I answered what I believe it is: “We dream darker because it's hotter and makes us cum to think about it. But there are consequences to some of the things we dream about that makes us shy away from actually doing them. When we play you know how I always say extreme things to you? That's part of it. I want you to think of the extreme things without me actually having to take the step to do them to you in a way that may hurt you physically or emotionally. What we do is very real when I whip you to the point of spacing you and then some, but at the same time there’s always an element of fantasy with both of us thinking the whipping is more nonconsensual. In other words, not play, but a real slave being whipped. When we watch a very hot video, it makes us feel the passion, but I doubt we would want to do what we are watching."  

We could do this chicken or egg thing until no one would want an omelet again whether someone is a service top or not, but if a Dom enjoys spacing submissives, he is doing what he wants. A Dom gives a submissive his domination. Service? Who the fuck knows?

So, yeah, I enjoy spacing a submissive physically by beating her or other play, but there are all kinds of variations of spacing. I may not be in the mood to have a spacey partner that day. I may want her fully cognizant and feeling things while she thinks about it and is able to verbalize emotions. I may want to have her company. I may want to do a quickie, in and out session with her. Or maybe it’s a newbie who has never spaced. It can be fun to introduce her to the exploding missiles in the night sky.

But it could be I am in the mood that day to keep her spaced for hours, lovingly hanging all over me and jumping at my every command and that’s what she craves. I wouldn’t exactly call that caving into her wishes if I want to do it and observe her in a helpless, submissive and suggestive state.

Spacing a girl is a valuable tool for a Dom and something I enjoy, too. I’m not to the point where it is my main focus for a scene, but if you want to do it, be good at it and do it much as you want.

I’ve been asked before by submissives what it's like to flog someone. Let me try here to give you an insight to what I feel. It begins when she strips and crawls onto the bed crossways. I already have control of her because I can position her the way I want. The control of her excites me and a definite sadism starts to come over me like a warm blanket. Usually, I simply position her flat on her stomach unrestrained although there are special sessions when I want her restrained from the start. The smell of the blue and black dyed leather is there as I feel the braided handle of the flogger. I’ll place the falls of the flogger near her face to give her the smell and she often kisses it without me telling her to. I’ll run it down her very white skin from her shoulder, down her back, over her ass and leg to her foot and again on the other side. The first strokes with the flogger will be very soft and easy. She has nothing to worry about is what I’m showing. The eroticism of it hits me even with these easy pops. This nude woman wants to be beaten. She needs it, needs to please me. I’m nude too and becoming aroused as the strokes get harder with time. The digital clock shows the time, but it’s meaningless now. Eventually, there is a rhythm and heat in the air. Sweat forms on my brow as her ass begins to turn pink and she squirms. And that popping sound. It takes over the room. As she moves about, I don’t ease up, I flog her harder in my figure eight, backhand, forehand method. This is her battle now and I’m enjoying it. Understand that to be able to hit someone hard that way is a powerful sensation. The blanket of eroticism around me now feels like it is electric. She thrashes about, it hurts her and that’s good. I’m not going to be a nice guy and slow down. I want her to hurt, to please me with her pain. I am so fucking hard now, turned on and enthralled myself in the drama. She breaks and turns over so I can’t continue, but I push her back over and tell her to stay there. She obeys. I’m hitting even harder now, her ass is redder and she begins to change. She is accepting now of everything. Finally her struggling stops completely. Her hand reaches out as if she is trying to touch something and she moves into the flogger if anything. I have beaten this woman into submission is the truth even if it sounds mean. But keep in mind she is happy now. I can hit hard as I want. Marks, slight bruises begin to appear on her ass. I’m also spent emotionally and physically, I slow my pops…slower and slower, eventually stopping all together. I lie beside her, hold her and enjoy watching my confused, happy submissive purr in her subspace. Eventually, she comes out of it a bit, but, and this is key, she is not the same. She KNOWS she needs this and needs to be my submissive. She is obeying me completely and trusting me to take care of her. She is mine.

There is no doubt that I started as a sadist only. My earliest thoughts of bdsm were causing pain without concern for the well being of the recipient. It was fantasies of capture the girl, torture, rape and leave her...Meeting my first submissive masochist, I categorized her and treated her with little respect…in the beginning. But with time, I began to know her more as a person and I began to grow...Over the years that general quality continued to develop as I met other submissives and began to realize the masochistic feature as an emotional need present even in some of the most capable and well adjusted women. My knowledge of the art of bdsm-D/s became something that cultivated my understanding of submissive women….and my own dominant needs...Practically speaking I became a better, more in demand dominant because I cared about the submissives. It wasn’t a phony concern either, they interested me and pleased me like no others could...A fascinating point comes when you can tell a submissive that she is made for you to beat and use and you both understand it’s true. It’s not posturing, but stating a fact. She knows I will do those things, but I will do them with her concern in mind, also...The trick when that stage is reached, when she has completely surrendered, is to keep the sadistic edge and pleasure coming for me. I do that by hitting a little harder than she can take, using her a little more, but always staying close to that place where she feels safe and respected. It’s like a jazz piece that doesn’t always stay within the lines, but plays around them with feeling... What a complete bonding that is. Later she comes so naturally under my arm as we walk a path in life. She is happily owned….and I suppose you could call me a dominant.   

There was a post about beating a woman into submission. To me that’s the antithesis to the art of BDSM and D/s. I can get the woman to submit without beating her like a pissed off pimp whipping one of his girls.

I can look at a smart ass pretty woman acting out and know that if I could play with her safely and mildly at first... flogging, spanking or whatever, it would be a whole different game once she spaced and came back feeling, confused, so submissive and desiring me to tell her what do to.

Later she will savoir that intense time and be drawn to do it again realizing she has to be submissive if she wants the same feelings and sensations. There is no beating into submission in any of it. It is making her enjoy the sensation of being spanked/flogged/whipped so much that she will keep coming back for more as I turn up things a bit.

Someone asked me why I haven’t written more in my journal recently and I thought about it. I usually write early in the morning when it’s quiet and I’m more sensitive it seems. Hemingway wrote early in the morning, too. Did you know that? After a bout of serious drinking the night before he would be up at 4 AM writing his famous novels. I don’t usually begin quite that early, but I do understand the morning sentiment. It’s about 7 AM Sunday now and although I wasn’t drinking last night, I feel the seclusion like someone trying to get over a hangover at 4 AM.

I don’t turn on the TV or radio this early. It breaks the solitude. I want to be here with my ultimate thoughts. No food, one cup of instant coffee is my only physical comfort. The rest is going to come from my thoughts.

I know I’m alone now. We are all alone, but we deny it with all sorts of friends, internet, TV, radio and various other things that keep us active. Every now and then, it’s okay to forget all the self-deceit and get back to realizing we are alone and dealing with it. I mean it’s true. We started alone and will end alone.

Okay, too gloomy. Let’s concentrate on the part between the beginning and end. That works too when I feel sensitive. Plus, I know y’all want to hear about BDSM. Heh. I used a belt on CE the other day. I hadn’t seen her in a while and it was a quick meeting without my usual toys. All I had were my hands and my belt. She has never liked the belt, but she got into it a bit more and here’s how.

I started kind of fast, but not hitting too hard, on her ass and upper back. After a while as she struggled to stay there, I changed to a slower pattern with harder blows. I told her to let the rush of pain go over her body like a wave, to feel it moving throughout her. That’s the same thing I tell her when I cane her. At the point where I knew she was struggling badly. I stopped, touched her face and told her how proud I was of her taking what I was giving. Then I told her I wanted her to stay there for more. That little encouragement worked wonders. She stayed there and took some very hard blows. When I stopped her ass was nicely marked and red all over. 

She told me later that it made her feel so proud when I complimented her that she was able to overcome the pain for me. She said she still felt the glow and couldn’t wait to do it again. So I guess there is a truth in there. Encouragement works much better than threats.

Hopefully, both are better people from an ephemeral, springtime, seasonal relationship that bloomed. One autumn I’ve driven down the highway away from someone who had a powerful influence on me, looking back in the mirror often as she stood attentively watching me leave. The reason that she had such an influence on me is that she listened and understood my thoughts, laughed at my jokes, met my passion and made me feel good as only a best friend can do. Circumstances can do us all in as we have to reduce the person to a blur in the rearview mirror. Eventually, there comes a time when we are looking out the windshield again, looking ahead at the sun on the horizon. Much later when you wipe off that mirror, you will remember the way her fading image looked standing there.

Yesterday, I read a thread about no sex bdsm and was thinking about it when I happened upon a chatroom. A submissive in there made the point that she had sex with very few that she played with. The line actually came out that she was no slut. There were a few comments saying good for her, etc.

Now here is where I have a question. If we believe bdsm play is a very intimate activity, why are we so ready to distance someone who plays with many from someone who has sex with many? Many will argue that play is more powerful and important that sex. Maybe they are right.

Many, but not all, admit to being sexually aroused by play. Most describe it as bonding of people around an energy flow. I’m not criticizing anyone for having sex with many or for playing with many, but I’m trying to make a philosophical point.

Matter of fact for me, I would be far more likely to have casual sex with someone without the play even if she was openly into bdsm. I find playing much more personal than sex and wouldn’t do it unless I had a great connection with the woman.

So I think I go against the grain in many ways. Instead of no sex bdsm play, I’m much more likely to say no bdsm with the sex until I feel a relationship bond.

It’s like a fluorescent lit room with a long table full of covered dishes and pies brought by everyone around hugs and kisses. Aunt Bee probably says a word or two before she gets naked and Andy whips her. I don’t get the darkness.

I carefully explain what I do, how she may react and how she is going to feel afterwards.

Much later, millions of years, I will take her into the dark place when she is ready.

It is like learning photography. You learn something from every shot even if it is a complete waste of time and film. But you have to be careful when your ego surfaces. An ego can be an anesthetic so you don’t feel the pain of not understanding.

Before you go to sleep each night if you keep imagining you can see a simple object until it appears, you can use the relaxed state to motivate yourself in various ways. I’ve been “confident and friendly” all week. Heh, heh. I was “sexy and handsome” last week. Another heh, heh. Of course I may not really be, but I think I am anyway and that’s probably why it works. Who the fuck knows? All I do know is that when I have to go out in this crazy world, I want every edge I can get some days. If visualizing may stop the comet speeding towards my personal earth, I’ll give it a try. Nothing to lose. Now if I can learn to work some masturbation into my visualizing so much the better. I always feel less guilty if I have a reason to masturbate. Masturbating while visualizing will not be easy for me, because I try to see the patterns in a kaleidoscope (how do those things work anyway?) and those are not things I usually think of as sexy. All those colored rocks going together in some magnificent array has to represent the orgasm I suppose. I wonder if I could use the kaleidoscope like a dildo and listen to her scream as it turns into a beautiful pattern? Okay, this is a start to working masturbation in. I can see her naked, the kaleidoscope is you know where and I’m looking in it. I use a leather slapper on her tits as I order her to get my rocks off. Oh, yeah, I’m confident and friendly, too. Confident and friendly, confident and friendly….mmmmmmmmmmm.

Sometimes women who have newly found their submissiveness, want to know what the experience is like to be owned in  Master/slave relationships. Here is my metaphorical description….We climb down into a deep crevice of the earth sharing only one safety rope that I hold until it becomes dark and we follow a winding cave into even more darkness in the cool underground.. Finally, together, we cut the rope that would lead us out. It is then our world a million miles from the surface life.

Here is how discipline works. To start with an analogy, I don’t mind working extra hours at my job now and then. The reason is that it puts in everyone’s mind that I will make the extra effort when needed. Now that also means no one questions my whereabouts during the normal hours when I’m not needed. I have earned the right to make my own hours because I work under the premise that I’ll always do the right thing and be there when it is necessary.

Relating that to punishing a submissive, I don’t have to punish her always, but in very rare circumstances it is not a bad thing. That is not the same as beating her everyday for minor infractions. She lives under the idea that she will be punished and it influences her behavior in all matters. It gives discipline that many submissives crave and proves that I care for her enough to make the effort. Above all, it strengthens the D/s relationship and creates that omnipresent fact that I will do what is necessary to get the job done to reflect back on my opening analogy.

A question was asked on the message board if you would be in a relationship with someone who only had a few years to live. Here is my answer:

We all are going to die is the hard realization. Every permanent relationship breaks the permanent part because one dies. I understand dying is part of life and my greatest fear would be if I hadn’t experienced fantastic flowing rapids of love and excitement. I want my kayak to dip down under the whitewater of emotions and break back up rapidly, surfacing as the water drips from my eyes like tears clearing, letting me see the bright sun and blue sky, gasping for air and knowing that I’m alive. There is more than one kind of paddle in my hand propelling me down the thrilling river.

Relationships put meaning to life for most. We put some of ourselves in each other when we touch each other in intimate ways. So the most important thing is to have someone responsive enough to understand you as you understand that person. No batteries required.

You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You've just crossed over into... the Twilight Zone.

I’ve figured it out. Actually, I knew this before, but I’ve figured out how to say it this time in a better way. Don’t be defensive about meeting someone on the internet. Don’t think I’m into online things or something because I’m not, but it’s possible to get to know someone much better online than happens in real life.

Societies, especially cool ones, put pressure on people to play with only the superficial talk of a meeting for coffee in the overused public place…ha. We meet, we act a certain way, saying ordinary things as we size each other up without scratching the surface, without talking about the desires, mysteries that make us wonder, fears, loves, hatreds, passions in life, without knowing what it feels like to connect with a person on a deep level.

If you sift through the internet to find others and talk to them as only connected anonymous men and women can talk to each other, you are going to know them far beyond the smile in Starbucks before the magic touches begin. 

The sky darkened yesterday and I knew things would soon darken even more. We have been in a severe drought as the weather channel says and we sorely needed this.

The front moved in rapidly over the river and I felt the power of the storm on my skin through the slightly open window on this warm December day in Georgia. Scintillating lightning bolts cracked over the river in the Carolina sky. It was one of those lonely days where I wanted to hold someone so close that not even the storm’s air would be between us. I could imagine hair blowing gently as I caressed her face.

But it’s not fear that keeps people close in storms, it’s desire. Somehow a storm makes us feel it more. Rain in rhythmic surges and the powerful wind slamming against the palmetto trees bent with the power as lovers hold each other tightly seeking release as total darkness comes. Dark clouds swirl and universes entwine, spiraling upwards as one as you feel the lightning in each other. The lightning is a positive negative thing fueled by D/s. The storm engulfs, misting wet through the window. There were flashes all around from the earth and river to the sky.

It is nice to sail inside a storm now and then with someone in a mist of love, sealed in the clouds, complete. Too bad I was alone yesterday. With time the rain slowed and the thunder quieted. I could feel my heart beating.

A Dom has to be part poet and put words to what a submissive does in a validating way. When he can say that it is okay to enjoy pleasing a man, being disciplined, whipped or whatever in a way that creates a positive self image for her, he changes the energy of erotic BDSM play into something she can be proud of. That poetic rhythm is a powerful balance.

The other night I was in a discussion about whipping and why she wanted it. She doesn’t process pain as pleasure, but the erotic aspect of being dominated and whipped is such a force in her mind that she wants it.

Here is how I see it. Being whipped represents control to her where she will obey as she is used to please a Dom. The idea that she will be whipped if she doesn’t obey in such a relationship is what is actually at work. Whipping reinforces the structure that she so desires, but the dominating relationship where she lives in “fear” of being whipped is what she wants above all.

Heavy rain outside in the night can bring me to write. Rain can cleanse, purify and make you new again. Stand at the window and watch it, see your breath on the window and write secrets messages on it with your finger. Feel the rain, cold and darkness. Feel me standing behind you as you lean back into my arms, warm and secure. So much better to be here than outside lonely and afraid.

Nothing of your past matters. There is no guilt. The rain washed the leaves from the driveway. You have found safety leaning back against me and the window separates you from the darkness forever.

You are mine to whip and tie to the bed for my pleasure as you serve me. There is comfort in our ritualistic play and you know that you are never alone. You rejoice in your submission to me. Both our breaths fog the window pane now so much so that it is hard to see outside.

We go to bed and the rain is only a background echo for us. Thunder and lightning surround as the bed floats through it all.

Somehow I don’t think the vanilla crowd experiences such feelings or lives on our level. You can never go back to that, you know.

The following is from a couple of posts I made on the message board on the subject of humiliation. See if this seems right for you.

Humiliating a sub makes her feel insecure to the degree that she will find comfort in performing a humiliating act. She will want the relief of losing herself in the actual act. She does the act and I say, “good girl” and all is well.

Suppose I make her stand at attention and tell her how she is a slut, bitch, c$%# and her only purpose in life is to serve. I tell her that she is helpless to be any other way and she knows it. I ask her if she knows it. She nods tearfully. I pull her hair, a pop or two on her naked skin with a crop as I speak until she is trembling.

Now she is ready for the humiliating act. I snap my chain on her collar. “Come with me, there is something I want you to do,” I say as I lead her along by the leash. She is ready to do whatever and hear the relief, “good girl” brings.

It is a bonding experience. I enjoy humiliating her in the context of a scene or lighter play, yet she KNOWS I am not thinking less of her.

That is what Doms offer in many situations if you think about it. We do things to a submissive with understanding and don't think less of them. Vanilla guys will be prone to make judgments about the morals or trustworthiness of a woman who wants to be beaten and used. Doms get it because we are in the same boat as we want to use, beat and humiliate subs. 

I’m up in the middle of the night again as I sometimes do. I wake up, turn on the radio for awhile to late night talk about ghosts and finally decide to get up. I check news online briefly, come to CM, read mail and check a few profiles. This is the modern day equivalent of going out to Waffle House and having a cup of coffee in the bright lights of companionship. At times we need to get away from the darkness of sleep and feel the presence of others even if we only sit on a stool alone and play with our change on the counter top while the others talk around us. My brief replies to a couple of emails in this incredibly bright monitor in the middle of the night is smiling and saying a few perfunctory words to the waitress. She is dazed by the work and constant small talk with customers and not exactly real to me. Her eyes look as big as the eggs frying sunny side up on the grill behind her. Although the monitor reassures me that I’m alive, it shows me the customary indifferent behavior and tells me it is up to me to talk to the girl over there who smiles at me. It is only going to help by casting light out into the darkness around me. It will give me the cup of coffee high, but it is still up to me to smile in return, respond with friendly words and begin to let whatever wakes me up at night rest as I smell bacon frying and words blending into laughs in the background. Life and activity, all around.

So I walk over and say hi. What are some of the things you like, she asks.  Well…I like:

Trust is what makes D/s not a dangerously unwise lapse in judgment. If a submissive meets a guy online and the next day he takes her to a motel and starts doing bad things to her, she has gotten herself into a bad situation. On the other hand if she is with her Dom and he does the same things to her, she can safely experience the fantasy.

This is what makes D/s relationships so great. There is trust and safety to let ourselves live out fantasies we’ve all had for a long time. As we get to know someone, we pick up on the signals that the other person may want to try something. Or possibly a Dom can teach a sub to understand her limits are not real, but only something she has created in her mind.

She does not have to panic when a certain type play is mentioned. She has the choice in how she responds. Considering her trust in her Dom, she can drag her old fears out of the closet and examine them in the sunlight of her protective D/s relationship.

She can begin to understand why she reacted so wildly to a fear. It is not the fear of her Dom doing something bad to her, but the fear she will be raped and strangled by a Ted Bundy. Once she realizes she is safe she can replace the old fears.

The relationship gives the submissive the power to change, challenge old fears and choose her thoughts. This power is amazing and she can overcome many limits and realize that she has developed a power in all areas of her life that she never thought possible. She has found an amazing power in her D’s relationship that gives her unlimited potential.

I was looking for a new screensaver and came across a montage of Impressionist paintings online and it has me thinking of how D/s is understood. Viewing Monet, Manet, Cezanne and Degas we are not looking at what is actually there, but we feel the sensations created. Those paintings use bright colors and brush strokes that blur lines of the subject as they create feeling.

If you take different people viewing an Impressionistic painting or being exposed to D/s, they don’t all get it. Some will be affected by the building effects of the color and pain while others will only wonder why they can’t see the subject clearly and why it hurts so much.

WE have a different way of seeing and it is a breakthrough art of feeling, movement, honesty, sex and domination/submission. In our painting the bright colors of day coming in the upstairs bedroom window of your house in the woods slowly change as the evening light begins to veil everything in Impressionistic feeling and truth. The shadow of the moving flogger disappears in the dark, but you still feel it long after I've left.

I’m up in the middle of the night now and can feel IT well. Interestingly enough and opposite of what most think, our moods cause us to see things clearly. We zero in on exactly what is meaningful as we feel things. I wish I could influence your mood when you read what I write. If I could catch you in a similar mood, my following words would be more striking.

When you stand before me trying not to move and thinking about how much you want to play, I can sense your desire as clearly as if it were written out like this journal is. You smile, almost reflexively when I tell you not to move. I touch your arms, put my face very close to you and talk low so that you have to listen well. My breath touches you as my words come to you ever so low and I see the effect as you stand there nude and vulnerable, but still needing so badly that nothing else matters. You have to give yourself to me this night.
 
Consequences of what you do don’t matter, but you also feel safe with me and know there will be no harm, no guilt and no judgment from me. You are going to give yourself to me to use with all that means.

There is an intimacy with us when we lay together and my fingers play you. We talk, I say things that touch things hidden within that cause you to almost cum immediately because you think that’s it and he knows. I tell you that I will lock a chain around your neck and let you know you are my helpless chained slut this night. (You feel those words and know what I mean about causing immediate reactions as you read them don't you?)

This is possible because of the closeness, the connection between a Dom and a submissive. We admit our desire for each other without having to play games. We react to things with almost one feeling for both of us. We feel passion while knowing we are understood and respected. Sure I know you, know your body responses and your feelings as you know me. That’s what D/s can do.
 
When I use pain on you, I think there are many ways to go about it. Sometimes it is only necessary to let the flogging build long enough with gradually increasing pain, at other times I can flog very lightly and you will reach your space quickly. The whole thing is keeping in mind the buildup of adrenaline/endorphins slowly happening. This is not to say it may not require heavy pain at times. It all depends on your body’s response.

Also, keep in mind my headspace. When I get into things there may be something I want to do that is going to cause more pain. It may be that I want to see you struggle with the cane. It may be that I don’t want you to space. It may be that I am turned on flogging hard. All this is not necessarily going to affect you in a negative way. You will start to feed off of my passion as I do these things to you. Erotic submission will make you want more of whatever I’m doing.

So I do recognize the balance of slow build-ups. I’m building right along with you, but it doesn’t always have to end in a spacing that you slip easily into. It may be a struggling battle royal that leaves us both exhausted, but so happy later.

Some things come up so often, I feel like just giving a number as a link to my feelings. You know just walk in and say 1, 3 and 7.

The other day I was over at CE’s house and fumbling through the bag trying to find the leather slapper as she was nude, face down, in bed waiting. I mumbled as I pulled out cuffs, bits of rope and chain until I finally found it.

This was midday and she had been up most of the night, unable to sleep and we had talked briefly before. She said she felt like she was weird at times. I told her there is a good weird and a bad weird, like with a good pain and a bad pain. Yeah, she may be a little weird to want me to whip her and I may be a little weird to enjoy whipping her, but these are good weirds.

I mean there is only so much psychotherapy or telephone numbers to psychiatrists that I can offer while I am swinging a slapper. Matter of fact, whether Doms and submissives need therapy is beyond me. All I know is that she wants to be whipped now and I want to whip her. So after a brief warm-up I told her number 1 again. Then I tied her to the bed and started very hard with the slapper before I changed to the blue suede flogger I had managed to find in the bag. When it was over, she was relaxed, happy and slept for hours after I left. She didn’t look for therapists that day and neither did I.  

I’ll try to be honest here. Submissives have insecurities to a greater degree than Doms it has been my experience and there is nothing wrong with that. It fits the dynamic well. Openly using her insecurities as means of control is not a bad thing if she understands what you are doing.

I want her to feel like she will do anything for me because I am able to make her feel wanted in the midst of her insecurities. So, in this sense, a sub’s insecurities work well in D/s relationships.

Some days a sub is very insecure in a shy, introverted way that I can spot in her eyes and manners immediately. Instead of reassuring her of her attributes, I tell her that I know she is feeling insecure and she is going to work hard for me to prove her worthiness.

She does and she feels better after fulfilling this need to show her insecurities to me and to be used because of it. Of course it all ends with her head on my shoulder, gentle kisses and her feeling appreciated and good about herself.

Briefly, where insecurities can be bad is when things are going along swimmingly and suddenly one person says something like, “why don’t you like me,” for no reason. That is actually an attack that is going to cause a confrontation.

For those thinking about joining the D/s adventure, I suggest you not go the "mentor-trainer" route.

Surprises are good and I try to be a little different in every scene. A scene isn’t a cold scientific experiment, but it is a living artistic experience of emotions. I may spank one time, but flog the next. I may only give orders or I may use force. You get the idea. One thing I will be is sensitive to the feel of the scene. Is she under control? What part of the scene seems to be turning her on the most? Am I coming close to a powerful fantasy she has? Through all this I’m going to be gentle at times and tell her how well she is doing. I’m going to hold her, kiss her and tell her what a good girl she is, before I slap her silly. I’ll tell her what a good sub she is and next tell her that she is a helpless slut. I’m going to tell her she is beautiful, then tell her she looks like a pathetic fuckslut. At the end we will both be satiated and her head will be on my shoulder while I stroke her hair between gentle kisses.

I recently went to Charleston, SC, The Holy City, and walked alone down the cobblestone streets and alleys in a misting rain. One place had a profound effect on me and I want to tell you about it.  

I came upon a garden that appeared to be shared by a large, white house and three other houses, each with a winding path connecting to a courtyard of plants and flowers. Calmness from the garden reached out to me and checking for signs of someone being there, I saw no one and decided to go inside. I rationalized maybe it was a semipublic one. Still not quite sure if I was allowed to go in and apprehensive, I decided I would only be a few minutes.

Opening the gate, quietly, ducking under the iron serpents, I somehow immediately saw one particular flower growing near the wall, hidden by other plants. Sheltered well, it was difficult for others to appreciate. The flower’s petals seemed to rise slightly when I went closer and stopped to enjoy it. Magnificent and colorful, this wonderful creation attracted me, seeming to sense my presence and feelings. This flower opened my eyes to beauty as I stood there in that garden looking for many minutes.

I touched the delicate thing ever so lightly with my fingertips fearing that I would do harm. Knowing that a gentle touch was all that was needed, I could feel its beauty. I leaned over, trying to capture the fragrance. My breath fluttered the petals minutely and I could see my life’s effect on this living thing.

Enthralled by the flower in the dimness of the dark day, I contemplated breaking it from the stem. If I took the flower I may possess its beauty, but I would, also, end its existence in the garden. I bent the stem, starting to snap it away from the plant and the sheltered garden, but as I held it between my thumb and forefinger I felt confusion and stopped, not sure that was best for either of us.

It is not an easy thing to break a beautiful flower away from the plant just like that. I did not want to end its innocent existence with my selfishness. Letting the stem go, the flower slowly returned, almost reluctantly, to its upright position. I backed away, my eyes still on the flower, then turned and hurried to the gate. Glancing back at the priceless creation, I saw the drizzling rain drops dripping from the petals faster now, almost like tears. The rain increased on the long walk back down the cobblestone street making it slippery as I struggled with my emotions.

My very ordinary afternoon after work. Yeah, I know this is about fishing, but if you read my post about the ordinary events telling much about someone if you are intune with that person, you may enjoy this glance at me. I hope you are intune with me.

Yesterday after work waiting for dark to arrive, I took my rod and reel and small tackle box, seeking companionship with the sky, sun and water. Walking down the hill, my legs working to slow me as I distanced myself from the house, I made it to the bottom, gazed up, feeling the depth and the sanctuary with the nature of the cove. Stepping out onto the dock over the water, the quiet reached me and I thought of those who would love it here and this is as close as we can be. Over the water alone in the natural setting gives me beauty, purity and peace. It also gives me memories. 

This cove of the river is not used by many and I rarely see anyone there. Here the water has a character of its own with the wind blowing the open portion, but only stillness near the shore. The water rippled as my lure dropped into the water, breaking the quiet for a second. Using feeling moves, I worked the line, making the lure appear lifelike.

After awhile when thoughts were beginning to fill me, I began to cast out further to deeper water, more forceful. Still nothing struck as I watched the lure working barely under the water. Hawks circled in a gliding, waiting pattern and a fish jumped occasionally near the dock. Scents from the pines reached me and I knelt on one knee on the weathered boards of the dock, reached down, touching the water, wanting to be part of it all.

I stayed at peace there until the day became cool, the green pine tops piercing the sun. It was getting late and I opened a candy bar, tasting the sweetness. Closing the tackle box, leaving the dock and climbing the hill, I felt no disappointment from not having caught anything.

When a new submissive gets into BDSM it is like a WW II submarine that has been down way too long with its oxygen depleted and batteries needing charging, desperately, finally, shooting up to the surface, emergency horn sounding and breaking through with the bow almost straight-up, creating white capped waves and a celebrating ecstatic crew.

Over and over you have questioned your desire to be used against the good girl teachings of your past and that is often the conflict you deal with in your dreams. I would think of capturing girls when I was young, torturing them, using them sexually until they were helpless and finally wanted to be my prisoner. My fantasies would bother me when we were all taught to be so good. The only ones who thought like me would be criminal rapists I read about in the paper.

Your discovery of one aspect of BDSM after another would stick in your mind, exciting you and make you want more, even though you felt guilty, until you finally started looking for real experiences. That desire has always been a huge conflict for you and it creates guilt at times.

 D/s can make you feel it is proper and respectful to live out these desires. You feel respected, but you also know I have an “evil” sadistic side and will do things you desire, but can’t admit to because you are still often in your little girl, proper, church going mindset. Actually, that mindset is always there on some level.

You can push the uneasy, guilty like feelings from your mind when we play because you know that you are helpless either emotionally, from fear or physical restraints. You have no choice.

You can actually enjoy my humiliation and whipping of you without ever feeling guilt. I am the bad guy from outside your boring life who doesn’t believe in religion or do nice things for you. I’m much like that guy in your dream who is going to push you into being a slut chained, whipped and fucked at his will.

We will have our compartmentalization down so well that it makes you never question our powerful, passionate play because the screened-off areas of ourselves need to stay that way at times.

I’ll also be honest here and tell you that I will use you sadistically more and more and bring you to the edge with a dangerous emotional and physical state. Danger, abuse and fear that you want. That means more beatings, more sexual humiliation and more emotional control until you are very afraid of displeasing me. Your fear won’t be because of the whippings, but it will come from your total surrender and knowledge that you can never again do without your Master doing these things to you.

My goal is to be a dominant without the gadgetry. My motivation is to have the submissive completely feel my power over her life and to submit to my physical play at a level beyond what she thought she could. I strive to consistently present myself here as one who has thought out matters and, yet, come full circle and realized that it is all not so serious. For me, it is a philosophy of common sense.

Seeing the superficial behavior of many helps me to become a better dominant and avoid that type behavior while being a compassionate friend of those who are still in the unfathomable maze. Knowing looks to those who will understand do far more than rants when a silly remark is made.

So if I say something like I want to make others smile, it does not mean my goal is not to dominate firmly. I am dominating by letting the submissive relax and finding comfort in being herself. The fact is that someone who makes you feel good about yourself will always be desired. The more fun, level headed, approachable, successful, socially adept and respected in vanilla and D/s society, I am, the better Dom I am.

The woman I treat like a friend and listen to without trying to prove how superior I am, is going to become the most dedicated slave, taking whippings and obeying religiously, because I validate her as a desired, pretty, fun and wise person.

If I flog you, I want you to think about imaginary and real things; interweaving them until you are no longer sure what is real and what isn’t as the left right rhythm of the flogger heightens your senses. I can hold you firmly with my hand behind your neck and tell you that we will be taken up high into the sky together, floating among the clouds. You may tell me that we will circle the stars, holding hands in our weightless environment until we dive back so rapidly that we feel the blood leave our faces as we splash into the ocean and go deeply down into the depths. If the imaginary has become real, we can feel the powerful current capture us and propel us upwards to the surface. We catch a wave and it tosses us from one white, foam capped, peak to another until we end up on the cool, wet sand with the warm orange sun above us reflecting on the seagulls as we live every heart beat. Safe and protected.  

There is something about going to Walmart on a cold, dark night that makes me feel better with the teeming people in search of companionship under the bright lights. It shocks me when I enter from the parking lot and the weather to see all of that activity in the controlled environment. I’m in another world where darkness doesn’t matter. There is nothing bad here.

The old lady dressed in that blue thing gives me a shopping cart with a noisy wheel. I hold the handle of my cart tightly for security as I enter past the arcade carnival like games with toys in the glass asking for 50 cents a try to take one home. Ronald McDonald sits on a bench. All the color and cartoon like characters dressed in blue make things swirl for awhile. I'm in an Alice in Wonderland experience I tell myself.

Inside I try to focus on why I came. I push the cart to the right like I do when I walk on the track and hope things will come to me.

Remember it is Saturday night and the big event of the week for many. I notice a beautiful young woman in a wheel chair approaching. Her hair and make-up are perfect and she smiles at me as we pass on that aisle where the clothes and food sections come together. Of course, this is her way out, too. Her Saturday night date whispering and touching her…the bright lights and warmth of Walmart. I push my noisy cart faster until the sound of the wheel blends into something bearable, not seeing the items on the shelves for awhile.

By the time I check out, exchange pleasantries with the clerk and pick my bags off the spinning carousel, I’m one of the experienced, one of the characters in the surreal setting, as I watch the newbies entering. I’ve got things and they have nothing. Out into the dark again, but feeling as if I’ve done something as I drive into the darkness, glancing in the mirror at the huge island of light behind me.

Here are my thoughts about violating negotiated play or limits. This all seems pretty simple to me. Many subs are going to fly and become helpless during play. It is the nature of the play. You have to stick with limits that have been discussed, negotiated or whatever you want to call it. With someone you don’t know well, it makes no sense to go beyond what you know the person is into or to exceed moderate, safe play.

When you find someone you respond to emotionally you are able to sense what the other is going through in all situations. You gain this great understanding of each other because of the attraction and affinity that time only increases. This is what makes a special relationship a life altering and explaining experience. Finally, you know why you are here. You are happy you are here.

Someone online talked about how she was going to have a fantastic day. There was one activity after another she was going to do. Go here-there, buy a watch, buy this, buy that, all kinds of beauty treatment things that I don’t understand, go to this restaurant, movie and so on. She was going to have a great day she said.

What struck me is the sadness in the whole day. It is all alone and even though it was her intent to be happy, I’m thinking she is going to end up much sadder and still alone. If happiness could only be bought like a watch, we would all be saving up for Rolexes.

About memories. Although, I, too, have experienced the emotional rush of a cracked and faded photo, the ability to forget things is something we all must have. It is necessary for our current happiness.

Memories of happy times are not going to make you happy. Whatever has happened is the rooting that causes the flower to bloom and that is what I want to admire and see the petals move ever so slightly with my breath.

The idea of slaves used as property has to have a firm anchor in reality.  Someone said she had a Master who maintained his yacht carefully, but he ended up sailing to Hawaii without her. She remembered his meticulous care of the boat and felt that it would be the same with her, but it didn’t happen. Memories can be both beautiful and painful.

The helmsman of the most striking yacht there is, should spend far more time on the care of the people onboard than cleaning the decks. The happiness onboard is not dependent on a well maintained boat sailing through the blue waters to Hawaii, alluring and wistful as that may seem.

Weight lifting/body building makes me a bad ass Dom. Weight lifting increases testosterone and I use BDSM fantasies to inspire me to push up that last rep on the final set to the point where the weight reaches its summit and I’m ready to shout, ”Me Master, you fuckslut.” Wearing my black nylon, no sleeved muscle shirt while I lift reinforces my self-image that I’m able to handle any sub physically and mentally.

When I work out in gyms, I sense cardio bunnies, doing their aerobic, sexy dance things, wearing those pink things that cover their legs, ogling my biceps and wondering how long I could spank them.

They don’t desire the skinny guy running on the treadmill watching CNN. They want my broad shoulders, bulging biceps and Domly attitude. Yeah, the nice guys are on the treadmill, but the girls see the bad asses lifting, wearing things that are positively BDSM like and grunting things like “fuuuuucccckkkkk” as the weights go up. Sometimes I will shadow box between sets just to enforce the image.

All I have to do when I finish my work-out is walk over, look at one of them, make a loop with my belt that I slip over her head and around her neck and say, “Come with me. I want to teach you about spanking.”

She instantly forgets her husband, kids and the garden committee meeting she was supposed to attend after the gym.

I usually write for the journal early in the morning just after that brief time when I wake up and have to get it all together…who I am, where I am, what I am. There is that moment when I’m in the dark and look over at the clock alarming and wondering what this loud thing is. I haven’t quite figured out my role in the universe. I could be another clock for all I know. I'm Dom, but I bet submissives know that feeling. Right? My thought is it is much like the time when subs are coming back after spacing.

This is a unique and valuable time when we don’t have any sensory input to clutter our minds. Our thoughts are clear of conditioned responses and whatever we feel is probably the truth. For instance, we often feel sexual without the inhibitions of learned restraint. Is this why subs are so sexual after spacing? Is this why I have a hard-on in the mornings?

This is a time when we are working on a higher level. This is reality where we exclude all we have learned over the course of our lives. It is like a trance where you forget the concrete world. This may be closer to reality than our most wide awake times during the day. Savor these few moments. 

Interesting news:  Residents of a small mining town told a government newspaper that the presence of a baboon in a destroyed shack was a sign of the ancestors' displeasure. The animal leaped out of the shack as it was being pulled down and refused to leave the site in Shurugwi's Mukusha township, 450 kilometers (280 miles) south of Harare, The Herald reported.

Many Zimbabweans believe the spirits of ancestors inhabit wild animals and invade human habitations to take revenge when offended.

"We are not really concerned because a baboon can never harm a person," police spokesman Patrick Chademana told The Herald.

The next time I have one of those horrendous times in my life, I’m going to start looking for that damn baboon. This explains much.  

I just got a great email from CE about her childhood reminiscences brought back by the sound of a train late at night. You know the way hearing those same sounds you used to hear when you were a child gives you those child like feelings again.
 
As I said earlier in the journal, these early mornings are when I am thinking and drinking the only coffee I’ll have all day. The childhood sounds staying with you is something I hadn’t thought about for a long time.
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Where I grew up in Charleston, pretty close to the Ashley River, and also in the flight path of busy Charleston Airport which was also an Air Force Base, we had huge C5A’s (largest aircraft in the world) coming over our house low shaking it like crazy at varying times. When a rare plane comes over my house where I live now, it brings back the memories of that old house with the kitchen with the cracked window.

The smells, my mother busy cooking and washing dishes, the big oak tree in the backyard that shaded that side of the house.

Another memory from my younger days is sitting in a high school class, upstairs, feeling somewhat out of place while I looked out towards the Cooper River. Remember Charleston is on a peninsula with the Ashley on one side and the Cooper on the other. I could not actually see the river, but when large ships navigated by, I could see their smoke stacks and superstructures. I used to wonder where they were going and if I would ever go to those places. I would think the people on the ships knew nothing about us in this school.  

There is something about early morning where there is nothing but darkness out my window. It is my creative, imaginative or fantasizing time…whatever you want to call it. I wake up and before going to work, turn on the monitor and wonder where things will take me today. My creativity focuses on BDSM before I have to use my brain in the outside world and this is natural since I enjoy it so much.

I think of possible scenes and the effects they will have. I can tie her up, flog her and bring into play whatever devious thing strikes me this morning and imagine how the scene would go as I sip coffee. Interestingly enough, when it happens for real, it is pretty close to the way I have imagined it.

Creativity and imagination can inspire and excite me or anyone. Fantasizing makes things happen just as I said my scenes often follow the way I have imagined them. My mind is working to make it happen the way I thought about it.

If you are fantasizing about something, watch it happen one day. You have set yourself up and your surroundings to make it so. Those subs who have thought of being kidnapped by pirates and used for their pleasure better look out the window to see if there is a jolly roger on the ship coming up the street.

 It may seem from some of my posts that I would be an easy Dom, but, trust me, I know exactly what I’m doing. There is only one dynamic we all work with and that is domination. Usually the sub wants to be dominated physically with whippings (bondage or whatever) and that does not have to be so complicated that a whole cult of rules spring up around it. Sure, I can make her do all sorts of ritual submissive things to get her whippings, but I don’t have to extrapolate that into rituals that are always in place.

If I care for a submissive, I’m going to treat her with respect because it bonds us even more is the truth of the matter. We are going to be trusting friends above the D/s dynamic. We are going to laugh, debate and do all the fun things vanilla couples do.

I feel confident enough in my personality that I can be in control without the nuances of constant D/s rules. That is the secret. She is going to willingly fall into this spiraling, gravity defying relationship and be every so much more my slave because of it. She is going to work harder for me when we play and in any other way I desire. She is going to be my naked, crawling on the floor, whipped, Master loving slave, enduring willingly what I’m sure any 24/7 ritual following slave would appreciate.

She told me she has bad dreams occasionally and I did some reading. An interesting aspect is that some dreams are common. Dreams that you are falling, that you are naked in a public place or of losing your teeth, are all dreams shared by a great many people. 

Why do people of varying ages who come from different environments and areas have these common themed dreams? Maybe this commonality means that we are all more alike than we realize. If Doms and subs have the same dreams, are we really that much different? Don’t we all have the same fears and hopes? 

Chase dreams are in response to stress in our lives. We run away physically when danger is near. We are being chased by an attacker, run and try to outsmart the monster. The ultimate confrontation is to figure out who is chasing you and ask him why he wants to hurt you.
 

It could be the attacker is coming from within you. It may be a feeling you have that you can’t control. Love, desire, anger, fear could be the attacker in disguise.  

These feelings could be so great in your mind that you are afraid that you will not be able to control the particular emotion or that you will lose it as in the case of love.

Dreams can be worrisome, but the good ones that come now and then often balance things out. Who hasn’t dreamed about a lover, held the person in your arms and tasted their lips of wine, all while dreaming?

My first blue and black, suede flogger was my Ark of the Covenant. It was spiritual. I first held it by the heavy handle and stepped back from her as she stood against the wall with her arms up high, leaning. I set my wrist into a circling motion that grew larger and larger, then a wide flick of my wrist sent it outward to her white skin and heaven. The falls struck her back and that changed me as assuredly as any prayer ever has.

I have held her in the early summer afternoon, that has no hint of fall and listened to her sing flawlessly in a completely spaced state. Not unlike a religious person in ecstasy.

I know what she is like, she knows what I am like. Unlike others in the vanilla world, we don’t hide within ourselves. They have an unbearable task of not being able to speak of what is inside. This doesn’t mean I can speak openly to those in the vanilla world of my desires, but I do have you all to listen. I have her to feel my flogger.

So is it spiritual? I think so, but it is easy to find fault with the concept. I also know if there is a spiritual God, people would find fault with him, too.    

Memory and judgment about the feelings associated with D/s is a nebulous, changing and precarious task. When I think back to the feelings that brought me into D/s it has become fuzzy. The fantasies that I used to have in detail are not as vivid as my experiences have multiplied and time has filtered my emotions. In the beginning, I knew something magnificent was occurring when I spanked my first girl. It was sexual, but it also was much more.

The realization has not made me a dark, unapproachable man with a sense of guilt. It has made me a person who is aware of my drives and accepting of these desires. I find joy in releasing my desires. I’m happy. It also allows me to respect women who want to be controlled, used in some fashion or given pain. They have had their realizations and they are happy, too.