Here is a story about one of my favorite random encounters with kink . . .
Let me think back to 2003 for a moment. I was on an Amtrak train from Boston, MA back home to Los Angeles, CA accompanied by my best friend. After breaking away from the New England area within the first night of the three day trek, we pick up a peculiar individual at a scheduled stop somewhere in rural PA. He was not peculiar because of how he dressed, it was because of how he carried himself. For the sake of this entry, we’ll simply name this scrawny pale-skinned, dark-haired man of roughly 6’1″ – Bob.
Oh the brat sub, the bane of our existence. Yes, I get it, correct me or it will get worse. But I have a much better idea. An idea that pleases me much more than having to constantly adjust your behavior like the mentally and emotionally underdeveloped child that you have grown up to be. My solution is so eloquent that I must confess it brings a smile to my face, at least after the door closes. With the blindfolds off and the gear resting peacefully I introduce the brat sub to the one thing I have been in and out of more than times my thumb and forefinger; The front door.
When I have a belief or personal philosophy I remember them by coming up with simple sayings. I have amounted a vast sum of them over the years and one of them is Pleasure before Promiscuity. This particular belief is simple, as with the behaviors and ethics that come along with. This particular belief baked in the oven of my brain for a very long time and its origins go back about 18 or so years. Now, I have had points in my life in which I have certainly ridden the edge, sometimes even crossing over. But for the most part it has remained intact and as I have aged it has increasingly solidified.
The following passage is about my very first experience with what is called “Top Drop.” Until this experience, I didn’t really believe that such an occurrence could exist with a high degree of probability, at least not with me. After reflecting upon both the causality and finality of this occurrence, I have learned much about myself through considerable introspection.
I recently read an entry about a dominants role in shaping a submissive. I could not agree more with the author that attempting to form and shape a submissive into a perfect ideal is the wrong goal. It is, as stated, a fantasy. The more that we attempt to distract ourselves from our personal improvements the more we seem to cast it onto others. We all have our own take on lifestyle BDSM, this is my take. My desire is not for perfection, but imperfection.
While a Gentleman (from Latin gentilis, belonging to a race or “gens”, and “man”) was originally referred to as a man of good family (i.e. a label for exalted social status, such as the French Noblesse or the German Adel), its meaning expanded quite notably over the centuries.
I was once asked, “Why do you tie?” To which my response was, “To create beauty.”
Now, this isn’t such a black and white definition as beauty is a subjective term. Sure, beauty can be characterized (especially here in the West) as tying a nifty design upon an attractive individual and snapping a photo but as it so happens, some of the best photographs are the ones which are never taken. To clarify, the beauty which I seek is that of a physical, psychological, and/or emotive response which for a very brief moment in time has been elicited through the process of kinbaku (shibari). The closer I am to a partner, the more intense this aesthetic of restraint becomes.
To manipulate is to be human. It is what we are and what we are good at. We modify objects to create tools, the elements to create substances and each other to satisfy a need or a want. The word manipulation comes with a variety of definitions. Both positive and negative connotations can be applied to this word. It is at its core neither of these things. To manipulate is just to change or alter. I am manipulating the keys on my computer, I manipulating the position of the glass next to me, and using words I am manipulating you.
(This article is about the title of Master and not role play or ownership use)
When I hear some one call me master I am more offended then complimented. When some one refers to others as master most of the time I am offended. The title of Master is one that is earned and given. Sure, there is a fantasy involved that many wish to play out. Mastery should not be confused with expertise. A person is just find after intense study, understanding and experience consider themselves an expert on a subject. But a Master is not self declared.
So, what say I? Suck it the fuck up! How could I ever say such a thing to someone who is having difficulty in their life? Simple, because I do so out of love for that person; tough love. Perhaps I’ve developed this attitude because of my upbringing, or maybe because I’m just a prick. Nevertheless, those who know me already know this about me but if you hear me say this to you its out of genuine love for you and what you mean to me. If you don’t hear this from me, then its not because I don’t care but because I don’t quite yet understand your sensitivities to do so.