Dear future [blank],
I'm not sure what you are, just yet. I don't know your gender, I don't know your kinks, I don't even know your exact relationship to me.
Will you be my slave, my totally owned property? Will you be my sidekick submissive, as I am hero, and we fight the crime of sex negativity together? Will you be my puppy, to be petted and fed and sleep in the cage? Will you be a patient student, wanting to learn what I've learned from those before me? Will you be the submissive of my boy, who wants to be a part of my life as well? Or will you be something else entirely, that I haven't even thought of?
I don't know you yet, [blank]. But I do love you, dearly.
But I'm not ready for you yet.
I don't want you to think that this means I don't want you. I do want you, and in fact I want you terribly. I dream about you, I fantasize about you.
However, I am not ready yet. There are many physical things I must pull together in the coming months... my housing situation, my emotional situation... I have books to read and study to do, and things to organize. I'm not ready for you yet, because I want to be as pulled together as I can get before I meet you.
I hope that's all right.
Of course, if you appear before then, I hope that I have the strength to know it, and to accept you without worrying about the fact that I don't feel ready yet.
I look forward to meeting you, [blank], I think about you almost every day. I hope you can forgive me for not being ready for you yet.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Monday, November 23, 2009
Good Times
On this Thursday just past, the boy and I attended a Leather Lifestyles forum. A couple of friends of mine were on the panel, so I probably would have gone for that reason alone, but also I was looking forward to discussions about Leather from a few different angles.
We were also lucky enough to have Mr Leather Australia & New Zealand 2008, Pierre Brand, in attendance, sharing his journey and thoughts and discussing these things with us as well.
It was a really good night, one that left me feeling inspired and thrilled, happy little endorphins doing their work in my brain. I always feel this way after spending time with like minded souls, regardless of where that like mindedness comes from.
I am still very young and new to Leather (as it differs from kink), but I no longer feel that it is something I am not allowed to touch, lest I dirty it with my filthy heathen (read: New Leather) hands.
We were also lucky enough to have Mr Leather Australia & New Zealand 2008, Pierre Brand, in attendance, sharing his journey and thoughts and discussing these things with us as well.
It was a really good night, one that left me feeling inspired and thrilled, happy little endorphins doing their work in my brain. I always feel this way after spending time with like minded souls, regardless of where that like mindedness comes from.
I am still very young and new to Leather (as it differs from kink), but I no longer feel that it is something I am not allowed to touch, lest I dirty it with my filthy heathen (read: New Leather) hands.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Asking of Others...
One thing I struggle with as a dominant person is that I feel I should not ask anything of anyone that I cannot do myself.
For example... my boy has a blog (which he has asked me not to link to, as he chooses to keep it anonymous for the time being at least) which I have told him to update at least once a week. He has missed a couple of weeks, so I have asked him to have two posts up before Monday. Even as I told him this, I knew that I too was going to write two posts before Monday. Because I do not want him thinking that I am asking something of him that I am not willing to do myself.
There's no real reason for this... much of D/s is built on the idea that one person is in charge and has the power, and so if that person chooses to task their submissive with things they themselves do not take part in, that shouldn't be a problem.
So why do I think that this has to apply to me?
Much of it comes down to my own problems with authority. I have trouble respecting someone who has authority over me if they ask or tell me to do things they themselves aren't willing to do, or I have any suspicions that they might not be willing to do.
Sensei put me through some terribly difficult things, but I never doubted that he either would do it, or in fact had done it in the past. My parents never expected anything from me that they couldn't deliver themselves. I had the utmost trust and respect in my surgeon years ago, because as a tracheotomy patient himself he knew what it was like under the knife as well as holding it.
What is this elusive quality? What is it that makes me wonder whether or not someone would or had gone through what they put me through?
Most of it comes down to trust and experience. I want to trust that the person who is asking much of me knows what they're getting me into, and what better way to know for certain than to have gone through it themselves, or at least be willing to do so?
When I think back to people who had technical authority over me, but to whom I did not defer, that was missing. The other thing that was missing was respect.
When someone commands something of me, I need to know they respect me. If they give me respect, I will return it tenfold, and most likely do as they wish.
I am reminded of a story from martial arts... (oh, prepare to hear that sentence a lot in this blog!)
Sensei would often get his higher graded students to teach the class for half a session, or even a full session. This in itself was a teaching exercise - he was teaching his students, in turn, to teach. He was also watching them and seeing if they were capable of it.
Now obviously, this meant that if Sensei was ever out of town or sick (although I don't think he ever got sick before he died), one of his high graded students would teach the class. (And poor me would go without my private, one-on-one lessons from him for that week or two.)
There was one particular Senpai (loosely translated to 'upperclassman', perhaps best translated as 'knowledgeable student and teacher's aid') who we shall call Bill for the sake of this entry.
Bill, despite being a third level blackbelt, had no respect for other students. He was also a terrible teacher, but that's beside the point at the moment. Bill certainly had no respect for me, as I was a very young student. He was also a very arrogant person, who believed that because he could punch very hard and kick very high, he was a magnificent karateka (someone who does karate). This, of course, is not how karate works... to be truly good at karate, you have to live it and feel it within your spirit.
One evening class that Bill was teaching, his arrogance and his lack of care for the students left to him by Sensei was driving me crazy, and I couldn't take it anymore. I held up my hand and told him that I had to leave the class.
He demanded in a snobbish tone, "Why? What do you need to leave for?"
This was completely unacceptable, and his lack of respect for me had finally reached boiling point. I am very ashamed to admit that I sneered, "What does it matter to you?"
This was not respectful of me, and perhaps I should have known better, but I was only fourteen, so I am going to give myself a little slack on the issue.
He yelled at me and I yelled back, and we had a little spat before he finally excused me from the class. I do regret losing my cool with him, but I am proud of myself for waiting for his formal dismissal before actually leaving.
I would NEVER have acted this way with Sensei. Never in a thousand years. It wasn't fear that stopped me acting like this with Sensei, it was respect. I respected him, and I looked up to him. So of course I wouldn't be rude to him.
But this man, this Bill... he was so rude, so arrogant, and did not care for the learning experience of those left in his care. He had no respect for the other students, and we could all sense that... thus, we did not respect him either.
I think of Bill when I think about D/s sometimes. How if he had granted me respect as a student, I would have granted him respect as a teacher. He was a very technically skilled karateka and I could have learned much from him, if only there had been an exchange of respect.
I want any submissive in my care to know I respect them. This is very important to me. I only ask for what I am able to give when it comes to respect, and that is one of the most important things about this dynamic, about this lifestyle, for me.
I think that is where much of my fear comes from, even when it comes to tangible tasks. I am afraid that asking a task of someone that I am either not willing or not able to do myself is taking and being self indulgent like Bill was. I know, intellectually, that this is not the case, but emotionally, it will take a lot of time to learn.
But I will never compromise this belief when it comes to respect. I will always grant an exchange of respect with any submissive in my care - and, for that matter, with all other human beings on the planet, as long as they grant me the same.
Even a slave who desires to be treated like trash, abused and used and kept in harsh conditions... they deserve respect as well, perhaps more than anyone. Choosing to live according to desires such as that takes an immense amount of personal strength, and that should be respected.
Then, too, we must respect ourselves. If we do not respect ourselves, then we are empty of respect, and have none to offer those around us.
For example... my boy has a blog (which he has asked me not to link to, as he chooses to keep it anonymous for the time being at least) which I have told him to update at least once a week. He has missed a couple of weeks, so I have asked him to have two posts up before Monday. Even as I told him this, I knew that I too was going to write two posts before Monday. Because I do not want him thinking that I am asking something of him that I am not willing to do myself.
There's no real reason for this... much of D/s is built on the idea that one person is in charge and has the power, and so if that person chooses to task their submissive with things they themselves do not take part in, that shouldn't be a problem.
So why do I think that this has to apply to me?
Much of it comes down to my own problems with authority. I have trouble respecting someone who has authority over me if they ask or tell me to do things they themselves aren't willing to do, or I have any suspicions that they might not be willing to do.
Sensei put me through some terribly difficult things, but I never doubted that he either would do it, or in fact had done it in the past. My parents never expected anything from me that they couldn't deliver themselves. I had the utmost trust and respect in my surgeon years ago, because as a tracheotomy patient himself he knew what it was like under the knife as well as holding it.
What is this elusive quality? What is it that makes me wonder whether or not someone would or had gone through what they put me through?
Most of it comes down to trust and experience. I want to trust that the person who is asking much of me knows what they're getting me into, and what better way to know for certain than to have gone through it themselves, or at least be willing to do so?
When I think back to people who had technical authority over me, but to whom I did not defer, that was missing. The other thing that was missing was respect.
When someone commands something of me, I need to know they respect me. If they give me respect, I will return it tenfold, and most likely do as they wish.
I am reminded of a story from martial arts... (oh, prepare to hear that sentence a lot in this blog!)
Sensei would often get his higher graded students to teach the class for half a session, or even a full session. This in itself was a teaching exercise - he was teaching his students, in turn, to teach. He was also watching them and seeing if they were capable of it.
Now obviously, this meant that if Sensei was ever out of town or sick (although I don't think he ever got sick before he died), one of his high graded students would teach the class. (And poor me would go without my private, one-on-one lessons from him for that week or two.)
There was one particular Senpai (loosely translated to 'upperclassman', perhaps best translated as 'knowledgeable student and teacher's aid') who we shall call Bill for the sake of this entry.
Bill, despite being a third level blackbelt, had no respect for other students. He was also a terrible teacher, but that's beside the point at the moment. Bill certainly had no respect for me, as I was a very young student. He was also a very arrogant person, who believed that because he could punch very hard and kick very high, he was a magnificent karateka (someone who does karate). This, of course, is not how karate works... to be truly good at karate, you have to live it and feel it within your spirit.
One evening class that Bill was teaching, his arrogance and his lack of care for the students left to him by Sensei was driving me crazy, and I couldn't take it anymore. I held up my hand and told him that I had to leave the class.
He demanded in a snobbish tone, "Why? What do you need to leave for?"
This was completely unacceptable, and his lack of respect for me had finally reached boiling point. I am very ashamed to admit that I sneered, "What does it matter to you?"
This was not respectful of me, and perhaps I should have known better, but I was only fourteen, so I am going to give myself a little slack on the issue.
He yelled at me and I yelled back, and we had a little spat before he finally excused me from the class. I do regret losing my cool with him, but I am proud of myself for waiting for his formal dismissal before actually leaving.
I would NEVER have acted this way with Sensei. Never in a thousand years. It wasn't fear that stopped me acting like this with Sensei, it was respect. I respected him, and I looked up to him. So of course I wouldn't be rude to him.
But this man, this Bill... he was so rude, so arrogant, and did not care for the learning experience of those left in his care. He had no respect for the other students, and we could all sense that... thus, we did not respect him either.
I think of Bill when I think about D/s sometimes. How if he had granted me respect as a student, I would have granted him respect as a teacher. He was a very technically skilled karateka and I could have learned much from him, if only there had been an exchange of respect.
I want any submissive in my care to know I respect them. This is very important to me. I only ask for what I am able to give when it comes to respect, and that is one of the most important things about this dynamic, about this lifestyle, for me.
I think that is where much of my fear comes from, even when it comes to tangible tasks. I am afraid that asking a task of someone that I am either not willing or not able to do myself is taking and being self indulgent like Bill was. I know, intellectually, that this is not the case, but emotionally, it will take a lot of time to learn.
But I will never compromise this belief when it comes to respect. I will always grant an exchange of respect with any submissive in my care - and, for that matter, with all other human beings on the planet, as long as they grant me the same.
Even a slave who desires to be treated like trash, abused and used and kept in harsh conditions... they deserve respect as well, perhaps more than anyone. Choosing to live according to desires such as that takes an immense amount of personal strength, and that should be respected.
Then, too, we must respect ourselves. If we do not respect ourselves, then we are empty of respect, and have none to offer those around us.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Vests & Life
Life has been crazy busy, not in the fun way, recently - mostly, I have just been very sick, and that's mostly why I haven't been writing.
But, you're not here to hear about that, so let's talk about vests.
I recently bought myself a leather vest. It is a tangible item for me to represent the Sir I am and will become. I bought it for a lot of reasons, but now that I have it and have bonded with it, I know that it is going to remain important to me forever.
Also, I look very sexy in it.
My tattoo was an action of my own volition, given to me by myself. It represents my adulthood, my life spent working towards being the kind of person I want to be and believe I can be.
My vest will be an action of my own volition, given to me by myself. It will represent my coming into myself as a Sir, my life spent dedicating myself to my community and my lifestyle and my loved ones.
But, you're not here to hear about that, so let's talk about vests.
I recently bought myself a leather vest. It is a tangible item for me to represent the Sir I am and will become. I bought it for a lot of reasons, but now that I have it and have bonded with it, I know that it is going to remain important to me forever.
Also, I look very sexy in it.
My tattoo was an action of my own volition, given to me by myself. It represents my adulthood, my life spent working towards being the kind of person I want to be and believe I can be.
My vest will be an action of my own volition, given to me by myself. It will represent my coming into myself as a Sir, my life spent dedicating myself to my community and my lifestyle and my loved ones.
Monday, November 2, 2009
NaNoWriMo
Yes, I have fallen into the clutches of National Novel Writing Month. I am writing a coming of age love story set in Leather and kink culture.
So far I find myself fascinated with my protagonist, who is absolutely nothing at all like me. They find their way to Leather not because of a calling, but because they are bored. Once there, they find that it stimulates them in a way they didn't even know existed, and they fall deeply in love with a mentor figure.
My protagonist (Vic) is exactly the type of person no one likes. They smoke, do drugs, drink too much, pick fights, swear a lot, and don't take anything seriously. My interest in this character comes from being the type of person with a lot of trust in myself and my instincts, in what I believe is my journey, what is good for me... I try to think of Vic as the person that I could be, were my priorities and opinions different, but my drive the same.
I have to admit, my talking about my novel in this post is mostly because I realized I hadn't updated in a few days and wasn't sure what to write about! I'll try and do better on that in future.
In other news, I have started reading a book called "Faeries, Bears and Leathermen: Men in Community Queering the Masculine". It is utterly fascinating to me, especially being that I identify with all three of those identities, and I'm sure I'll have some more thoughts on it in a future post.
So far I find myself fascinated with my protagonist, who is absolutely nothing at all like me. They find their way to Leather not because of a calling, but because they are bored. Once there, they find that it stimulates them in a way they didn't even know existed, and they fall deeply in love with a mentor figure.
My protagonist (Vic) is exactly the type of person no one likes. They smoke, do drugs, drink too much, pick fights, swear a lot, and don't take anything seriously. My interest in this character comes from being the type of person with a lot of trust in myself and my instincts, in what I believe is my journey, what is good for me... I try to think of Vic as the person that I could be, were my priorities and opinions different, but my drive the same.
I have to admit, my talking about my novel in this post is mostly because I realized I hadn't updated in a few days and wasn't sure what to write about! I'll try and do better on that in future.
In other news, I have started reading a book called "Faeries, Bears and Leathermen: Men in Community Queering the Masculine". It is utterly fascinating to me, especially being that I identify with all three of those identities, and I'm sure I'll have some more thoughts on it in a future post.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Ways of Serving the Community
Do you know what a community is?
A community is a group of people. Individuals, with individual desires, dreams, hopes, aspirations and problems.
There is a Leather community, a kink community, a queer community, a gay community... there are a lot of communities, all made up of individual people who have some things in common with each other.
In Leather, people often speak of "serving the community". This type of service is not restricted to bottoms - it is something that all people, regardless of orientation, are encouraged to do. The community in question, usually, is the Leather community. Service? Well, that can be anything.
I choose to believe this attitude in Leather is based on Golden Rule principles - let's care for other people and be good people (whatever that might mean individually). This is a large idea that many communities make use of; the idea of taking care of each other. In Australia, we even have a cultural idea behind this, that we call "mateship". In short, "one must look out for one's mates", and in Australia, in the idea of "mateship" when used as a cultural idea, means that most of us are all mates. Mate, in case you're not familiar with the slang, means dear friend. So, mateship is looking after each other.
In Leather, service, while not exclusively this, can be seen to be looking out for others in the community.
So let's get back to what a community is. It's a person.
So to apply "service to the community"... we can apply this to the idea of "looking out for someone" as an act of service.
Now that might seem a little obvious, but I wanted to talk around it a little, so you could see where I am coming from.
The boy's 36 hours in the cage had to be broken. I received a phone call at 2am that night (why are these types of phone calls always between 2-4am?). Someone dear to me needed help. They were in a bad situation and while they were in a safe place in that moment, they had to move out of home as soon as possible.
I told them to relax for the night, and the boy and I would be there tomorrow. I woke the boy up and told him that I needed him to move to the bed so he could get a good night's sleep - I summarized the situation.
He woke up fully immediately and asked if we had to go then and there. I told him no, but we would have to go tomorrow, so I needed him to sleep well. He ended up staying in the cage after all (apparently he sleeps very well in there), but I left the door unlocked.
The next day, I called another friend for extra manpower, and together we all moved someone out of home in about an hour.
It got me thinking about what an act of service can be, and to whom it can be given.
Yesterday, we did a very good thing. We helped remove someone from a toxic situation. That act, in of itself, was looking out for someone. Taking care of them.
Aside from helping them specifically, they will now be in a better place to help others in future, and to perform their own services for the community.
Yesterday, we committed an act of service for the community. It may not have looked that way, perhaps... but what is a community? A community is made up of people.
Yesterday, we helped a person. This is a revolutionary act. An act of kindness, an act of care, and yes, even an act of service to the community.
Yesterday, we performed an act that was completely and utterly an important piece of what Leather is all about.
The idea of committing to serving the community can be a daunting aspect of Leather life. But it can be as simple as small acts of kindness, or as large as operating a community space. Leather doesn't care how much you give - only that you give it.
A community is a group of people. Individuals, with individual desires, dreams, hopes, aspirations and problems.
There is a Leather community, a kink community, a queer community, a gay community... there are a lot of communities, all made up of individual people who have some things in common with each other.
In Leather, people often speak of "serving the community". This type of service is not restricted to bottoms - it is something that all people, regardless of orientation, are encouraged to do. The community in question, usually, is the Leather community. Service? Well, that can be anything.
I choose to believe this attitude in Leather is based on Golden Rule principles - let's care for other people and be good people (whatever that might mean individually). This is a large idea that many communities make use of; the idea of taking care of each other. In Australia, we even have a cultural idea behind this, that we call "mateship". In short, "one must look out for one's mates", and in Australia, in the idea of "mateship" when used as a cultural idea, means that most of us are all mates. Mate, in case you're not familiar with the slang, means dear friend. So, mateship is looking after each other.
In Leather, service, while not exclusively this, can be seen to be looking out for others in the community.
So let's get back to what a community is. It's a person.
So to apply "service to the community"... we can apply this to the idea of "looking out for someone" as an act of service.
Now that might seem a little obvious, but I wanted to talk around it a little, so you could see where I am coming from.
The boy's 36 hours in the cage had to be broken. I received a phone call at 2am that night (why are these types of phone calls always between 2-4am?). Someone dear to me needed help. They were in a bad situation and while they were in a safe place in that moment, they had to move out of home as soon as possible.
I told them to relax for the night, and the boy and I would be there tomorrow. I woke the boy up and told him that I needed him to move to the bed so he could get a good night's sleep - I summarized the situation.
He woke up fully immediately and asked if we had to go then and there. I told him no, but we would have to go tomorrow, so I needed him to sleep well. He ended up staying in the cage after all (apparently he sleeps very well in there), but I left the door unlocked.
The next day, I called another friend for extra manpower, and together we all moved someone out of home in about an hour.
It got me thinking about what an act of service can be, and to whom it can be given.
Yesterday, we did a very good thing. We helped remove someone from a toxic situation. That act, in of itself, was looking out for someone. Taking care of them.
Aside from helping them specifically, they will now be in a better place to help others in future, and to perform their own services for the community.
Yesterday, we committed an act of service for the community. It may not have looked that way, perhaps... but what is a community? A community is made up of people.
Yesterday, we helped a person. This is a revolutionary act. An act of kindness, an act of care, and yes, even an act of service to the community.
Yesterday, we performed an act that was completely and utterly an important piece of what Leather is all about.
The idea of committing to serving the community can be a daunting aspect of Leather life. But it can be as simple as small acts of kindness, or as large as operating a community space. Leather doesn't care how much you give - only that you give it.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
More Cage Adventures
Sorry I've been absent, I had a very good friend visiting from interstate and have been busy paying attention to him. :-)
While he was here, we shared in a moment that amused us both. We were sitting on my couch, discussing all kinds of things, and sharing a delicious lunch of bagels and things. The boy was naked and in the cage - by his own volition, perhaps I should add.
Sitting, talking with my friend, I pulled apart pieces of bagel, dipped them in hummus and slipped them into the boy's mouth between the metal bars. It was a very natural movement.
After a few pieces, I paused and chuckled quietly to myself.
"There are moments," I say to my friend, "where I realize how strange my life would be to most people."
"I was just thinking that," he replied. "Not many people have naked boys in cages in their living rooms."
Perhaps they don't. But that is their loss.
The boy is in the cage again presently - locked in, as a matter of fact, for the next 36 hours (with the exception of supervised toilet breaks, of course). This is happening because I made a joke that he would get bored if he was in the cage for a day or two - he disagreed. (Are you noticing a pattern? I do believe this is how he ended up spending the night in there last time!)
At the beginning, I felt certain I would lose - he seems so happy in the cage that I am pleased this bet did not have any money attached. But a few hours in, and while he may not be bored yet I suspect another full day and a half of this may prove me victorious. We will see.
I asked him a few minutes ago how he is going, since I have a couple of friends online who want updates. His response was a big, cheerful smile that only boys know how to give, and a happy exclamation of "NICE!".
While he was here, we shared in a moment that amused us both. We were sitting on my couch, discussing all kinds of things, and sharing a delicious lunch of bagels and things. The boy was naked and in the cage - by his own volition, perhaps I should add.
Sitting, talking with my friend, I pulled apart pieces of bagel, dipped them in hummus and slipped them into the boy's mouth between the metal bars. It was a very natural movement.
After a few pieces, I paused and chuckled quietly to myself.
"There are moments," I say to my friend, "where I realize how strange my life would be to most people."
"I was just thinking that," he replied. "Not many people have naked boys in cages in their living rooms."
Perhaps they don't. But that is their loss.
The boy is in the cage again presently - locked in, as a matter of fact, for the next 36 hours (with the exception of supervised toilet breaks, of course). This is happening because I made a joke that he would get bored if he was in the cage for a day or two - he disagreed. (Are you noticing a pattern? I do believe this is how he ended up spending the night in there last time!)
At the beginning, I felt certain I would lose - he seems so happy in the cage that I am pleased this bet did not have any money attached. But a few hours in, and while he may not be bored yet I suspect another full day and a half of this may prove me victorious. We will see.
I asked him a few minutes ago how he is going, since I have a couple of friends online who want updates. His response was a big, cheerful smile that only boys know how to give, and a happy exclamation of "NICE!".
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Sleeping in the Cage
I own a lovely large cage. It's a dog cage, one that's sized for dogs like great danes and st bernards, so it's very big - about 1.5m x 1m x 1m. You can fit people into it extremely comfortably. At an event I ran, we had three people locked in the cage and then they started wrestling with each other... it was very entertaining to watch, and it gives you an idea of just how roomy it is.
I have always had a thing for cages. It's not necessarily a BDSM thing, either. For example, I like being in cages myself, even though I am exclusively dominant. For me, it is like when you are a child and you play in boxes - it's like having a fort, a place where the rest of the world doesn't matter, somewhere cozy and nice where you can settle down and just relax.
My cage is very comfortable for short term snuggling down and relaxing. I knew it was big enough to make someone sleep it it overnight without harming them, but I wasn't sure if it could be done comfortably.
Enter, the boy.
Last night we were mucking about with the cage, at one point discovering that you can easily fit two people who are snuggling into it. I talked to him about how much I adore cages, how I find them fun and secure when I am in them, and how I find them sexy and exciting when I am putting someone else in them. How I always fantasize about having someone sleep in them overnight.
He made a joke about sleeping in the cage that night. I laughed it off. A little later, he joked about it again. I told him that I doubted it would be very comfortable for him. He told me that he'd be fine.
Long story short, at midnight I was tucking him into the cage with lots of pillows and blankets. I deliberately did not lock it, because I was going to be sleeping in my room (the cage is in my living room) and I wanted him to be able to get up and pee if he needed it, or if it became too uncomfortable, come in and get into bed with me. I was not comfortable with locking him into something if I wasn't going to be able to be in the same room all night.
I covered the cage with blankets to keep the light down, as I was going to be up for a couple more hours in the living room and I didn't want to disturb him too much. This is a trick that you learn if you have caged pets - growing up I had a cockatoo, and to put her "to bed" each night I would cover her cage with a large sheet, to keep the cage dark.
Half an hour after putting him to bed--or perhaps, "to cage"--I heard soft snoring noises. Two hours later, they were still going on, and I went to bed myself.
I got up in the morning and came out into the living room only to find that he was still asleep in the cage. I sat down on the floor by the door and uncovered that part of the cage. His eyes opened.
"Hello," I said softly, smiling at him.
"Hello," he said back, smiling that wonderfully adorable boy-smile.
Then he said, "I told you."
Indeed you did, my boy. Indeed you did.
I have always had a thing for cages. It's not necessarily a BDSM thing, either. For example, I like being in cages myself, even though I am exclusively dominant. For me, it is like when you are a child and you play in boxes - it's like having a fort, a place where the rest of the world doesn't matter, somewhere cozy and nice where you can settle down and just relax.
My cage is very comfortable for short term snuggling down and relaxing. I knew it was big enough to make someone sleep it it overnight without harming them, but I wasn't sure if it could be done comfortably.
Enter, the boy.
Last night we were mucking about with the cage, at one point discovering that you can easily fit two people who are snuggling into it. I talked to him about how much I adore cages, how I find them fun and secure when I am in them, and how I find them sexy and exciting when I am putting someone else in them. How I always fantasize about having someone sleep in them overnight.
He made a joke about sleeping in the cage that night. I laughed it off. A little later, he joked about it again. I told him that I doubted it would be very comfortable for him. He told me that he'd be fine.
Long story short, at midnight I was tucking him into the cage with lots of pillows and blankets. I deliberately did not lock it, because I was going to be sleeping in my room (the cage is in my living room) and I wanted him to be able to get up and pee if he needed it, or if it became too uncomfortable, come in and get into bed with me. I was not comfortable with locking him into something if I wasn't going to be able to be in the same room all night.
I covered the cage with blankets to keep the light down, as I was going to be up for a couple more hours in the living room and I didn't want to disturb him too much. This is a trick that you learn if you have caged pets - growing up I had a cockatoo, and to put her "to bed" each night I would cover her cage with a large sheet, to keep the cage dark.
Half an hour after putting him to bed--or perhaps, "to cage"--I heard soft snoring noises. Two hours later, they were still going on, and I went to bed myself.
I got up in the morning and came out into the living room only to find that he was still asleep in the cage. I sat down on the floor by the door and uncovered that part of the cage. His eyes opened.
"Hello," I said softly, smiling at him.
"Hello," he said back, smiling that wonderfully adorable boy-smile.
Then he said, "I told you."
Indeed you did, my boy. Indeed you did.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Holding Steel
I know I said I was going to write about what Leather means to me in this post, however, something came up that needed to be written about. Please forgive me, I will post about what Leather means to me soon.
Today, the boy and I went to purchase his collar.
It wasn't meant to be a big thing, actually - and in a way, it wasn't. It was simply preparation for our collaring ceremony, me buying the collar that he will wear. The collar itself is lovely - it is a steel cable that closes and can be locked with a padlock. Here is a link to it, if you'd like to see. It is a very masculine collar that can easily pass as jewellery during the day while he is at work or seeing his family.
We went and tried on a couple of sizes to make sure it would fit right, looked at them in the mirror, and I selected the 19 inch one as it may be a little bigger, but I felt that helped it look more vanilla during the day and also would give a little extra leeway for him to wriggle once it's locked. I paid for it, then we decided to look around the store a little before leaving.
We bumped into a friend while there, which was a pleasant surprise, but not what this post is about - however it was a lovely moment to be in a BDSM store and meet a friend who you met through the scene, talk about D/s as small talk, then part ways. It struck me how similar it was to any person meeting their friend in a store - a housewife meeting her friend in a homewares store, a bloke meeting his friend at Bunnings, that sort of thing.
We got in the car and started home, and I took the collar out to take the price tag off it and examine it much more closely - and bond with it, as it is my collar now.
As we rolled along, I began to think about this collar.
This steel cable collar has been one that I have been in love with for years, ever since I first saw it. I remember the first time I saw it, and that I thought how much I would love to have someone in my life that I could lock that collar about their neck. I would look at it online and fantasize about having someone wear that collar.
And then, all of a sudden, I have someone. I had bought this collar for the purpose of locking it around my boy's neck. Not only had I chosen it, but he had chosen it with me, and he loved it as well.
My dream had come true.
I looked over at the boy, who was driving. He was bouncing his head and singing along to Fountains of Wayne that were playing on his ipod. He was happy, he was beautiful, and he was mine.
Is mine.
It is more beautiful than I can express. To dream of these relationships, to dream of these collars, to dream of this life... and then to have it! Not only to have it, but to have it be even better than I had dreamed.
This collar, this boy. My collar, my boy.
My boy, you are so beautiful, and I am so honoured to be your Daddy.
Today, the boy and I went to purchase his collar.
It wasn't meant to be a big thing, actually - and in a way, it wasn't. It was simply preparation for our collaring ceremony, me buying the collar that he will wear. The collar itself is lovely - it is a steel cable that closes and can be locked with a padlock. Here is a link to it, if you'd like to see. It is a very masculine collar that can easily pass as jewellery during the day while he is at work or seeing his family.
We went and tried on a couple of sizes to make sure it would fit right, looked at them in the mirror, and I selected the 19 inch one as it may be a little bigger, but I felt that helped it look more vanilla during the day and also would give a little extra leeway for him to wriggle once it's locked. I paid for it, then we decided to look around the store a little before leaving.
We bumped into a friend while there, which was a pleasant surprise, but not what this post is about - however it was a lovely moment to be in a BDSM store and meet a friend who you met through the scene, talk about D/s as small talk, then part ways. It struck me how similar it was to any person meeting their friend in a store - a housewife meeting her friend in a homewares store, a bloke meeting his friend at Bunnings, that sort of thing.
We got in the car and started home, and I took the collar out to take the price tag off it and examine it much more closely - and bond with it, as it is my collar now.
As we rolled along, I began to think about this collar.
This steel cable collar has been one that I have been in love with for years, ever since I first saw it. I remember the first time I saw it, and that I thought how much I would love to have someone in my life that I could lock that collar about their neck. I would look at it online and fantasize about having someone wear that collar.
And then, all of a sudden, I have someone. I had bought this collar for the purpose of locking it around my boy's neck. Not only had I chosen it, but he had chosen it with me, and he loved it as well.
My dream had come true.
I looked over at the boy, who was driving. He was bouncing his head and singing along to Fountains of Wayne that were playing on his ipod. He was happy, he was beautiful, and he was mine.
Is mine.
It is more beautiful than I can express. To dream of these relationships, to dream of these collars, to dream of this life... and then to have it! Not only to have it, but to have it be even better than I had dreamed.
This collar, this boy. My collar, my boy.
My boy, you are so beautiful, and I am so honoured to be your Daddy.
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