Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Humiliation and chastity

Blogging seems to be more and more like a chore these days. However, I do it anyway because I know I'll want this documentation later on. It's valuable to be able to look back and say "Look! This is how I thought back then, and this is what I did. This is how I felt". Besides, the blogs I've made my playthings write are very valuable to me, as it gives me insight into their minds. I learn things I probably wouldn't have found out otherwise, as I see things more from their perspective. So I continue writing.

Met up with Corvus at the party. Noticed straight away that something was wrong. Made him talk to me about it. He wasn't in the mood for a party with a lot of happy people. He was introvert, stressed, tired and just felt really uncomfortable there. He showed me a text he'd written before going to the party, where he asked for a beating. A beating that would make him break down and cry. I suggested we leave soon, head back to my place and give him what he wanted. Although he was very sceptical, he eventually agreed. He has a thing for corsets, so I had him help me into mine and lace me in, to see if that might snap him out of his black mood. It didn't help one bit, he was unresponsive and passive. We eventually left the party, just over 90 minutes after we'd gotten there.

Back home, he layed down on the bed. I talked to him for a bit and noticed that he was shivering from a lot of emotions held in too tight. I realised subtility wouldn't be of any use, so I had him remove his pants and then spanked him. Hard. I mostly used a big wooden spoon. It didn't take many minutes until the dam broke. I'd expected him to fall asleep once he'd finished crying, but on the contrary he seemed to perk up. After a bit of talking, we ended up doing more playing. Mostly pain-related, as that was my intended "theme" for the evening. But with bits of pleasure interspersed, so as to keep him off balance.

He slept here from Friday to Saturday, tied to the bed. Never had anyone tied to the bed before, not for a whole night, and so I made sure he'd be able to get out on his own. The next morning, we did some more playing, but not much as he needed to leave.

Saturday evening, T was going to a party and Corvus would be comming over to my place again. He arrived quite late, around 10pm, I think. I then tied him up and used him as a footrest for a while. It was interesting enough, but not something I'll do every time. After tying him in a more comfortable position on the floor in front of the couch, we proceded to wach the movie Secretary, as he hadn't seen it before.

Afterwards, I spent quite some time humiliating him in various ways. It's strange how he gives every impression of loathing what I do to him and how small I make him feel... And yet afterwards he tells me it was good and that he enjoyed it. It just doesn't make sense to me. Also, when the sub gets down so far that he becomes nothing more than an object, I'm somewhat at loss on what to do next. I know which buttons to press to get him down there, to a state where he'll let me do practically anything to him and where he has very little will or initiative of his own.. But once he's down there, what am I to do with him?

Part of the enjoyment of what I do, wether it's pleasure or pain, is the subs will rebelling against me. Not an active rebellion ofcourse (I get a bit annoyed at subs that act out constantly), but a presence behind the eyes that lets me know there is still a concious, thinking, reasoning human in there. And that presence, that spirit, will only be pused so far so fast. Outbalancing that sense of self enough that I can get away with pushing on the boundaries, and yet not enough that it'll shut down and stop playing... That's an art. And it's something I love doing.

The truly humiliated sub, as least as I've encountered it in my playthings, has very little will to do anything. Certainly not rebel against me. He is just passive, waiting on my will. This state of mind is a very, very powerful tool that I'm sure I could use for something. I just haven't figured out for what purpose yet.

Anyhow, once I was done humiliating him, I tied him up and started using pleasure as a tool in stead. He hadn't been alowed to come since Tuesday. I have a goal of one day making him come with me present, and this is partially to work towards that goal. (Though ofcourse there are also other reasons for giving such instructions.) Anyhow, I got him as turned on as he's ever been, without comming. So horny he couldn't lie still, and even once bit his own arm as a way of staving off the hornyness. He eventually grew tired, so we stopped for the night. Again, he slept tied down.

The next morning, I did it again. I made him that turned on. It's fun, this power it gives me. I gave him two new orders. One on his request. Not sure I feel about him requesting such things from me, and me agreeing to them. Perhaps I should be stricter? But then, he DOES present some fairly good ideas. I won't ignore them, just because they're comming from him. At least as long as I feel that my domination of him is fairly stable and secure. He requested that he be made to have with him certain objects that he has a fetish for whenever he's at home. He'd be likely to do it anyway, but it comming from me made it stronger and enforced the insentive to actually do it.

The instruction I gave him was met with a mixture of dread and desire. I told him that at least once per day he would make himself as turned on as he'd been when he was with me that day. He would enjoy it, but he would not come. This is, ofcourse, a way to make his forced celebacy more difficult.

Corvus has a strong sense of duty and I knew he'd do his very best to do as I told him. That's why his blog entry for Sunday, which I just recieved per e-mail, surprised me a fair bit. Apparently, he came that day. He claims it was an accident. It made him feel guilty and sad and it wasn't actually pleasurable, because he knew he wasn't supposed to do it.

I'm uncertain about how to handle this situation. In everything I've asked him to do, Corvus has been dutiful and comitted, almost to a fault. I have two posible ways of thinking about this:

Either, he's telling me the full truth. In which case he's already beating himself up over this far worse than what I could ever do to him. If he's telling the truth, all he needs is some form of formal punishment. Mild enough that he can take it, but harsh enough that it feels like actual punishment and not just more playing. It would make him feel better, as he would feel he'd done some sort of attonement. Thus it would clean away some of his guilt, and time will have to do the rest. There is little I can do.

Or, he's not telling me the full truth. The truth could for example be that he made a concious (or semi-concious) decition to come. Even though he knew he wasn't supposed to. Because he was so turned on and he wanted to. It may or may not have been pleasurable, that isn't the point. Afterwards, he felt guilty. And so he confessed.

This has two possible implications. Either, he's just unable to ressist temptation. Or he is unwilling to follow my instructions, or at least some of my instructions. If the first is the case, then it could easily be solved with some sort of chastity device. But honestly, I don't expect him, a man of 36, to have urges that strong. If he'd been 18, it would have been another matter entirely. If the second is the case, namely that he doesn't want to follow my instructions... Then we have a problem. A big problem. Because that would mean that he had an issue with my command and didn't voice it, didn't talk to me about it. Lack of communication is VERY serious in my book. (Or that the whole submissive thing is a sham and he's only been pretending all along. Which frankly just isn't possible. I know him better than that.)

So if he wasn't perfectly honest with me, and I do find out somehow, we'll probably have to talk it over. I'd have to hear his reasons and such, not only for disregarding my instructions, but for being less than completely truthfull about it. I don't know what I'd do, if this was the case. Depends on his resons, I suppose.

Honestly, I trust Corvus. I trust that he's being truthful and not holding anything back. And so we're back at the first scenario I outlined. I better start thinking about possible punishments. Corporal punishment will certainly be part of it, but he's able to handle that so well. On it's own, it isn't punishing enough. So I need to think of something else too...

On a side note: I really want to get myself a cane. Oh, and I want more clothes pins. Preferably made for sadism, meaning that they are ajustable (typically with a screw) and that they "bite" in the very front. Though I can make due with regular clothes pins for now.

Friday, September 24, 2010


This week is rather intense.

Monday: Social meeting at a BDSM organisation for students and young people (people under 40-ish).

Tuesday: The usual social meeting at the local BDSM club, same as every tuesday. Every second Tuesday is open to everyone, and once per month the open café does an introductory speech to inform newcommers about rules and such. I brought with me two newbies I'd met at the munch outside of Oslo last week, as well as one guy from the meeting on Monday. They all seemed to have a good time.

Wednesday and Thursday I've spent playing Red Dead Redemption on our new Playstation 3, cooking, doing laundry and other housewively chores and hangig out with T.

Tomorrow, Friday, it's Members Night at the BDSM club. That's almost like a party, but the bar doesn't serve alcohol (you may bring your own) and you have to arrive between 8pm and 8:30pm. That is so that no one has to man the door all night. From what I've heard, there's a lot of playing and such going on. So I'm looking forward to that.

Satuday evening, the BDSM club hosts a Coctail Party. T, my fiancee, is probably going to attend that party. That means I have the house to myself. I'll spend the evening and night playing with Corvus. It'll be so nice to have several hours with him where we're not just crammed into his car.

That's for plans and such. But I didn't say much about what happened on Monday and Tuesday. Ofcourse, I had Corvus with me. And ofcourse we played a bit. The most important thing that happened was on Monday: I took Corvus out shopping. And he bought me something, on the agreement that I would use it occationally when playing with him. It's the first time a submissive has actually bought me anything expensive. It felt odd, but nice too. Anyhow, Corvus has got a fetish for certain things, and it's so fun to stimulate that fetish. His reactions are just wonderful to see. And taking him out shopping for it was fun. He hasn't alowed himself to enjoy the fetish so openly out in public before, I think.

Last week, I bought Corvus a present, as I knew it was his birthday this week. I bought him his own collar. I've used my "generic collar" on him once, but what I always ment to be a generic collar is too strongly associated with Mondage. So it isn't generic, it's Mondage's. Even though we never concidered it as such when we used to play. Anyhow, Corvus liked that I used a collar of my own choosing on him. And I enjoyed the consept, although it didn't feel quite right to me then because of that particular collar.

So anyhow, I bought a collar for Corvus. And on Tuesday, I had him kneel before me as I collared him with it for the first time. I've used collars on him before, but this one is special because it was selected by me to be his. Given by me. I told him that he should always bring it whenever he came to see me. He didn't have to wear it all the time, but it should be with him.

He wore it that entire night, at the BDSM club. And underneath his clothes, he also wore a full body harness that I'd made on him earlier. We left the club early, to have an hour or so of playtime at home. Once we were done, and he was very horny but also very tired, I gave him perhaps the strictest order I've given him so far: He would not cum until further notice. He accepted it, as I felt fairly certain he would.

And to make that part just a hint harder on him, I sent him a text message today. Tonight, he's gone to bed with some of the items he's got a fetish for. He's also wearing leather cuffs locked to his wrists and ancles. I told him I wanted him to enjoy it. But not cum.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow, and especially to Saturday. I think this weekend is going to be fun.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

One strike, you're out? Apparently not..

So much happened Thursday evening and night that I don't really know how to tell it all. I guess I'll just start at the beginning.

It started out with Corvus and I going to a munch in another town, just outside of Oslo. It was nice enough, though very small and new compared to what I've gotten used to in Trondheim and Oslo proper. It was nice to bring Corvus along and make it obvious to people that he's mine. Somehow, that makes me proud.

On the way home, we stopped in a parking lot near a gas station. Again. That's become somewhat of a tradition, or at least a necessary habit. We talked and played for a couple of hours. I teased and prodded and mocked and hurt Corvus until he was as turned on as I've ever gotten him. And then I asked if he'd be willing to do practically anything I told him. And he said yes. However, he didn't have the presence of mind (I'd taken that from him) to really understand what he'd just said. I took a gamble, and I honestly thought it would work out. I honestly thought he was ready for it. But when I untied one of his hands and whispered in his ear that I wanted him to jerk off, the situation just collapsed.

He couldn't do it. I realised almost immediately that he'd gone into lock-down, but hoped I was wrong. Hoped that he was just being coy, playing at refusing. So I pushed him a bit, assuming I'd get a stop word if he wasn't actually playing. No stop word came, but I broke it off rather quickly anyway. And that was the beginning of over two hours of crying and talking and hugging.

It was tough, let me tell you. I've never made a large mistake with a sub before. Sure, minor things that I wish had gone in other directions, but I've never managed to completely kill the mood like that. Once I'd finished comforting him, talking him back up into equilibrium, and he didn't need me anymore.. The I broke down myself. There was nothing domininant left in me right then. I cried and I felt extremely vulnerable, ashamed and sorry. It felt as though I'd betrayed his trust. It was awful.

From how well he handled it, it seemed as though the situation was worse for me than for him. Though I don't know that for sure. He handled it really well, and he handled me really well too. He comforted me, held me and listened to me as I tried to talk myself back into my own equilibrium. I'd been rather high on emotions and such myself, so it was quite a drop. Is this what a Dom-Drop is like? I'm not sure how that term is used. Anyhow, it wasn't nice. I went through a rollercoaster of emotions, sad one moment and laughing the next. At one point I got really angry, at everything and nothing, but mostly at myself. Corvus alowed me to bite his arm, without questioning my intentions. Biting down and suddenly having to focus on someone else but me.. That helped, somehow. I appologized for everything, profundly and repeatedly, and he told me it was ok. That helped too.

We stepped outside of the car for a breath of fresh air. I was still shaky and unstable, but I could feel that I was slowly getting my old self back. Just like when you fall off a horse, I knew I couldn't just stop the night there and then. We needed to get back into play-mode again.

The most difficult then, for me, was getting over the fact that he'd seen me so vulnerable. Not many people have seen me cry (at least outside of LARPs and roleplays), and it had felt good to be held and comforted. Even by him. I voiced my worries, and he reassured me and told me it was ok. I'm human too, I should be alowed to make mistakes and be vulnerable. He accepted that.

Corvus was standing with his back to the car, and I was leaning up against him. It was one of those kissing moments, so I bit him. His neck. It felt like the logical thing to do. We played around a bit, nothing serious, just a bit of pinching, biting and tickling. He could tell I wasn't really back yet, but I tried anyway, and he let me. "Fake it 'till you make it" ought to be a motto of mine. It did work though. Slowly but surely, I got back on top.

That ends the first part of that evening and opens part two. In a way those are two separate sessions, done back-to-back. A playing marathon, you might call it.

Once we'd talked our way though my mistake and the trauma it caused, we were almost back to normal. I played with him for and hour or so, and at every milestone we passed, I thought "I ought to stop here, and be pleased with how fare we've come, concerning how fucked up things were. I can't risk another collapse".

However, I didn't stop. I kept on pushing: My hand outside his underwear, cupping his balls (and he continued having a hard on). Then inside the underwear. Letting him get used to that for a minute or two. Then, finally, longingly: His dick. Holding. Grasping. Stroking and caressing. And eventually, I was able to take his hand and place it there. Withdrawing my own, he was slowly stroking his dick on his own, me watching. It worked! He didn't go into lock-down, he didn't pull back from me or freak out. It was ok.

So I'd been right after all, he had been ready for it. However, I'd gone about it in the wrong manner. In making him take an active part, I gave him the opportunity to think, reflect and refuse. Even though what I said wasn't phrased as a request, he was still able to choose. And so he chose not to do it. Whilst the second time, he was never given that option. Slowly, taking baby steps, I pushed past his limits, one step never seeming that much different from the pervious one. Slowly, he got used to my touch. And eventually, I was able to do what I wanted.

I hadn't had a plan behind that hour of playing. Sure, I had a wish, but concerning how badly things had gone earlier that evening, I didn't have high hopes. One thing simply led to the other, and so everything worked out in the end. As we talked, one final hour or so, he didn't seem traumatized or shell-shocked. He was just like he always is after we've played. I take that as a good sign.

I learned a lot from this experience. Even though it was painful and scary, I think it was good for me. A necessary step in my dominant journey. As you learn, you evolve and grow, and that's how you get better at what you do.

Though I was terrifyed for a while, certain I'd ruined our relationship and his trust in me, it did turn out allright in the end. I'm hoping we'll grow stronger from this experience, as we've learned to know one another better. He's certainly seen sides of me that I never intended to show! Hopefully, there won't be any lasting emotional damage from the event for either of us, and we'll be able to move on. I'll know more when I see him again next week.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Successful re-negotiation

I e-mailed the "Just a dark mood?" entry to T, because I felt he ought to know about it beforehand and not just discover it online. That's why it wasn't published until today, although I wrote it a couple of days ago.

So today, we talked it over. I'm amazed at how well that went and how understanding and accommodating T is. I wanted more leeway with my toys, permission to do more things to them, to get more involved myself. And I wanted to talk over the already existing boundaries to get clear on what he thought wouldn't be ok and what I'd simply imagined that he wouldn't like.

I'd expected to have to fight, or at least argue for hours, to get even a bit more leeway. I'm not sure why I had such a horror scenario in my mind, I really have no reason to. T has always been very accommodating and understanding, has always allowed me to do what I really wanted. Sure, there have been limits, and there still are. But he lets me express this Dominant side of me freely, so I don't have to hide or feel ashamed. I love him already, but I love him even more for that.

End of the story is that a few hours of talking led to quite a new set of limits. This time, the agreement is twofold. One set of limits for what I may do with random people I decide to play with. And one set for Corvus, and theoretically for others whom I decide to enter a serious BDSM relationship with. I feel this is a very good arrangement. There are still a few sexual things that are reserved for T, and T alone. At least for now. I won't go into details. If you're curious, you can either ask me in person, or you can let me play with you and begin finding out... :P

This agreement enables me to fulfill some of my wildest dominant dreams and fantasies. But just because I may now do these things, it doesn't mean I'll actually do them. At least not anytime soon. I have been given the opportunity, the permission, which means that I'll be better equipped to make decisions on the go. I can practically stop worrying about what T might think of something, and instead focus on what I think. Do I think this is ok? Will the subject handle it? Will it be any fun? Those are the questions that ought to be in focus all the time, and finally they can be.

Thank you, T, for being the wonderful, understanding, accommodating, openminded man that you are. You are very easy to love.

Thursday, September 16, 2010


I sent Corvus a text message the other night. It instructed him to take a picture of his hand holding on to a steering wheel, lever or handle, between 11 and 12 in the day. And then e-mail me the picture.

Yes, it was fairly random, but it was fun. And he performed the task admirably.

Tuesday evening, when we'd gotten in the car and he was going to take me home and then drive home himself... I made him drive all the way without his pants on.

Yes, it was fairly random, but it was fun. And he performed the task admirably.

I like random. :) At least so long as it's fun.

Just a black mood?

I've been thinking a lot about boundaries lately.

From my toys I ask that they give themselves over into my hands, into my care. I tell them to trust me with their bodies and minds. I respect their boundaries, but if they don't coincide with my own, I try to think of ways to move that boundary further. Not because I don't respect the toy's opinions or feelings, but because I feel it's limiting the range and scope of our play. And because I feel that the toy would be better off without that particular boundary in place. I believe I know better than they do what is good for them. That's insanely arrogant, but in matters such as these I have so far turned out to be right.

The toys' sexuality is one part that I wish to control. I don't demand that control constantly, but when we are playing their bodies are mine. There are no limits to what parts of their bodies I controll. The dick is mine to dominate, just like the torso and face is. I ask that they give this control over to me, and eventually they do.

Ofcourse, I play with the toy because he enjoys it and wants me to. But I would never have bothered with it if I haden't enjoyed it too. And yet there is a strange hypocrisy to it. Because as I give pleasure, pain and enjoyment in every form to my subjects, I do not allow myself the same freedom. My enjoyment, let's be frank: My hornyness, is something I try to ignore. To stow away. To hide, almost. Sure, I bring out some great "Dominatrix" moments in my own mind later on. But fantasizing about it and actually enjoying it while it's going on... Those are two very different things.

An ear lobe in my mouth. The tention of the subject's shoulders, apprehension and exhitement mixed together. The gasp of pleasure as I suck, lick, flick it with my tongue. The relaxation as enjoyment takes over. And the gasp of pain, surprise, as I bite down. I have done precicely that what must now be over a hundred times. And I will say it now, because I couldn't say it then: THIS TURNS ME ON. Being so close to someone, whom I can manipulate like putty. Whose moods and emotions I can play like harp strings. So close, so close that I can almost (but only almost) read his mind. I wish I could scream it from the roof tops: This turns me on! This, and so many other things that I do to them. The toys. My toys. My boys. I love doing what I do because it gives me pleasure.

I find it rather bizzare... The submissives get all the "action" so to speak, in that they are alowed to come and I may even (in some limited ways) help them on the way there. But I, who am supposed to be the one with all the power and controll.. I don't get anything for me. My sexuality, my desires, are taboo when I play. I can't really talk to the toys about it, and T doesn't really want to know either. Oh, he'll listen.. But it feels like he'd prefer not to know.

Why do I limit myself so? Because I made an agreement with T, months ago, that my sexuality would be separate from theirs when I play with them. It was at least partially my idea to begin with, and I honestly thought that would work out. And for a while it did. But then it didn't anymore, because being dominant went in my mind from curriousity to strong interest. I'd almost call it a passion. And yet, because I don't want to risk loosing T, I try to contain myself. To not mix my sexuality up with theirs. Though I should have known that was a lost cause. What we do isn't sex, but it sure is sexual!

So now, my self-inposed boundaries are chafing. This might just be a black mood, who's origin I don't know. After all, it's past 3:30am. You're never your most sane at these hours. So this chafing might pass... Or it might not. If it doesn't, I'll talk to T about it. Or perhaps he'll talk to me. He'll be reading this blog in a few days anyway.

Monday, September 13, 2010


As the poem might have made you guess, I had a quite an interesting weekend. Friday was roleplaying night, with T and a good friend. It was great and ofcourse we didn't go to sleep until early Saturday morning.

Saturday was the "main" event of the weekend, with my first ever so called Cruising Event. It's a party at the local BDSM club that is designed specifically to let people play a lot. The main room is divided into several smaller cubicles by the way of camuflage webs. So the "walls" are partially see-through and you may walk around and watch people in action when you aren't busy playing yourself.

Corvus picked me up at half past six, one and a half hour before the party was due to begin, because I'd wanted to talk with him. I'd made a list of topics I wanted to raise. The most important of wich was the issue of ownership. What did those keys he gave me mean to him? It turns out, he'd also thought somewhat symbolically. And again I was surprised at how well in sync we seem to be. At this point, nothing is set in stone. However, we agreed on a few points that I think are fairly important:
1. When we play, I'm boss. I own him. (Ofcourse, he can still use stop words, that's a given.)
2. When we aren't in play sessions, I can still give him the occational prick to remind him of that I excist and of what we have together...
Such as a text message ordering him to do something, simply because I want him to. Or an e-mail giving an instruction for the following day. It could be something pointless, like what colour socks to wear or that he has to jump up-and-down three times sometime between two and three pm. (Or it could, eventually, be something less pointless. But we haven't gotten that far yet...)
3. He is my submissive. My plaything. Just as outlines by the previous points. However, I can not, and will not:
a. in a signfificant way interfere with his job, family or friends.
b. "out" him to anyone he doesn't want to know.
c. in a significant way interfere with his economy or belongings.
So whilst I do "own" him, in the sense that I decide over him with regards to BDSM, I do not actually own him. He is his own person. I have no wish to take over his life, only influence it.

During this talk, I also discovered that he seems to be significantly more balanced as a person than I expected. Whilst he's had a brush or two with depression, he doesn't have particulary low self-esteem. He thinks of himself as relativly average, as far as looks and brains go (which is an fairly correct assessment, I think). He knows he's good at his job. He's been through one serious relationship, meaning that he's done all that comes with something like that. Including the love, the heart-ache and all that jazz.

Why did this apparent normality surprise me? Well, because so far I've been a weirdo-magnet. And the kinds of weirdos that typically catches my interest, as friends or something more, are the people who have the worst self-esteem ever. People who, in some way or another, are mentally fucked-up. Or perhaps who should have been. People who, if they were houses, would need much more than just a bit of paint and some new furniture before they were ready for the open market. Sure, Corvus is far from perfect, but he isn't as messed up as I expected him to be.

He is a fairly normal, fairly stable guy who doesn't need constant reassuring from me and anyone close to him. It a welcome respite. I can relax with him, and not worry so much, not wach as carefully every word I say. This also, ofcourse, enables me to focus more fully on other things... Such as pushing his limits (and stretching my own). Experiencing new and exhiting things together. And I like it.

Anyhow, on Saturday we played. I took him upstairs to the private dungeon, and finally managed to get him totaly naked. No corset, no underwear, no nothing. The contrast of a clothed woman and a naked man is not lost on either of us. He's definitly in a more vulnerable position. We also discovered that his belly and sides are incredibly tickelish. He wears a corset 23/7, so the skin underneath isn't exposed to the normal fricktion of clothing moving about and such. Thus it's a lot more sensitive. Sensitive = fun. At least for me. :P

The playing made him completely exhausted. Don't really know why, and neither does he. It was odd. Anyhow, I didn't let him drive home, but put him to bed in our guest room in stead. I'm very glad T was ok with that.

The next morning, I got up pretty early (at least concerning how late we'd gone to bed), because I wanted to play some more. Corvus was half asleep when I came in, but woke up quickly enough when I started typing him to the bed. He wasn't let go until over two hours had passed.

The afternoon that Sunday was spent alone with T. I was terribly tired, almost falling asleep on the couch several times. However, I managed to stay awake until the evening. And despite my tiredness, T and I ended up having sex somehow. This time we took the time for me to orgasm too. Usually, I'm just not patient enough to bother with it. I just want him in me, just want to be close to him. As close as it's possible to get. I love that. But this time, as I said, I came. And on my last contracting spasm, so did he. It was lovely. He is lovely. I love him.

Sunday, September 12, 2010


Plan. Executing.
Waching enjoyment
Head back, eyes closed
Gasping pain, pleasure,
Something in between?
Above and beyond?

Always moving
In sync, but no balance
Tilting, but never letting
You fall

"Don't-step-on-the-lines"-kinds of foolishness
To me they are fog
To be cleared away,
By spring rain or tears
Or a well placed slap
A word
A touch

Watching you sleep
How did you get here?
Oh yeah, I made you.

Friday, September 10, 2010

A REALLY old friend

Haha, ok third entry tonight. I'm stopping now, I promise. :P

Just wanted to share this little tidbit with you. I had no idea it still excisted online!

I must have been 14 or so when I wrote this, as I remember writing it at home and I moved away when I'd finished junior high (ungdomsskolen). That means this is probably from the year 2000, though that's more than a little guesswork. At this point I had no sexual experience. I'd never even been kissed. All I had to go on was my own imagination and what I'd read in all those short stories. Those facts taken into concideration, this isn't that bad. However, I won't call it great writing either.

I'm sorry it's just in Norwegian, but I can't be bothered to translate it. For those of you who CAN read Norwegian, have fun: http://www.erotikknett.no/5213_41.php

I am true

Woah, a lot of writing in one evening. I could have included this in my previous entry, but I figured it deserved it's own.

Like I've just mentioned, I started reading erotic litterature (mainly short stories) when I was about 12. Or perhaps 11, I'm not sure.

It started out with some magazines that my mom got second-hand from a male friend of hers, called "Vi Men" ("We Men"). It's your typical men's magazine, with articles concerning fishing, hunting, cars, science, explorations and other manly-men kind of activities. Each issue also had a double-page of jokes and cartoons followed by a double-page of writing: My gold mine, the erotic novel. I've flipped through them later and see now that they are predictable, boring, not particulary well-written and generally don't have much quality to them. However, for a 12-yearold they were VERY exhiting.

We got internet when I was 13, I think, and I soon graduated from crappy magazine stories to online stories. I told you all about this earlier.

One the late summer, when I was 13 and a half, I got ahold of a different magazine. A magazine directed towards women, and that only had stories in them. It was called "Novellegiganten" ("The Short Story Giant). I've only ever had the one issue (number 8, 1999), and I can't remember how I got it. It might have been borrowed from a friend or it might have been bought, perhaps when we were going to the cabin or something. In it, there are perhaps four erotic short stories, one amusing story, one or two crime stories and an excerpt from a book. I've read them all, but the only story that stayed with me, and that I kept comming back to, was the one called "Paris i september" ("Paris in september").

Back then, I didn't have any terms for what I liked. I didn't know it was even "supposed" to be "abnormal". I figured I was as normal as anybody else. However, I just found that magazine again, and re-read the story. And lo and behold! It's got an obvious BDSM theme! It's about a woman of power, a director or something, who's in Paris for a short stay. With her is a male personal assistant whom, when they aren't working, is dominating her. He's telling her what to wear, what to do and he's doing some heavy orgasm control.

It's obviously translated from some other language, as some of the phrases sound a bit odd in Norwegian. And I doubt the story could be concidered great litterature in the first place. Regardless, my love for that story when I was in my early teens in the proof that I really HAVE been into BDSM for years. Before I found this story, all I had to go on were some incidents from I was 15-16. I have incidents that prove my exhibitionist side from when I was 13, but until now I had no idea I could trace the BDSM back that far too.

Why is this important to me? I think it's based in my self-doubt. Everyone else seems so much more "into" BDSM than me. It seems more important to them, it drives them and shapes them more than I think it does me. When I see their gadgets, their bruises, hear their stories.. They seem more "hardcore", more dedicated. And I know, I know, it's not a competition. But still, it makes me doubt myself. Do I truly have the right to name myself amongst these people?

So why does this short story help? Because in my experience, the most "dedicated" BDSM people and fetishists can trace their interests back. Either to their childhood (age 4-7, typically, and most common for fetishists) or early teens (age 11-14). Incidents where their interest in this subject has made itself clear, long before they knew what any of it was called.

Whilst I, I found the home page of the BDSM club in Oslo when I was 17. I'd read through some other websites before then, so let's say I started looking at this when I was 16. And like I said, I have a few incidents from when I was 15. But by then, I'd already heard about BDSM. I knew, roughly, what it was and what you could do with it. So it wasn't something that appeared from inside of me, rather it was something I found outside and then started trying out. As oposed to the exhibitionism, which I know appeared from within me and made it's way out.

And so because I had no indication that my interest in BDSM came from inside of me, I was afraid I wasn't "true". Wasn't "for real". You're probably laughing at me, wanting to tell me that every experience in the last few years points to the oposite. But you can't rationalize this, because it isn't logical. However, I see this BDSM short story, and the memories it triggered, as proof. Proof that this WAS indeed something I had in me from early on. Proof that I am "true", that I am as good as those other "hardcore" people.

So laugh all you want at my irrational thoughts. Know at least that this helped. It put my thoughts a bit more to ease.

P.S. It's strange how words come flying of my fingers when I sit down to type. Originally, the title of this entry was "An old friend". I wished to tell you, in few words, that I'd found an old short story again. One I hadn't seen in years. And yet again, I start soul-searching, self-analyzing. This is why I love writing. Because you never know where your thoughts will take you, once you start getting them into order and putting them down in writing. I'm happy for this blog. It's made me realise things about myself that I probably wouldn't have learned otherwise. :)

An unrelated realisation

First: This is unrelated to all the playing I've been doing lately. Just to have that clear.

I've come to a realisation. Ever since I was a young teenager, I've had a "thing" for men who sexually interract with other men. It started out as just a fascination for homosexuals in general, probably because I was currious about it. However, lesbians never interested me much. Not in the way homosexual men did. I'd go to the library and find novels and short stories about gays, and in such ways discovered some of the litterature I still concider among my favorites today. Like the Norwegian author Elin Brodin and some of the short stories in collections published yearly by Ungdomsbokklubben. And ofcourse "Egalias døttre", which I read when I was 14.

But let's get back on track: So, I had this curriosity. This fascination. From I was 12 and onwards I read large amounts of erotic short stories. As teenage boys would consume erotic pictures and films, I consumed the written word. cupido.no was my primary "hunting ground", because these were the times when their stories still were available online for free.

The currious thing is that for a period of at least three years (it's hard to put dates on these things, so it might have been more), I read almost no short stories with heterosexual couples as the protagonists. I wanted, and dilligently searched for, erotic fiction about gay men. And gay men only. The subject could be anything, but as I look back I see that my favorite stories weren't about "gays" in the typical sense of the word. But rather of apparently straight men who ended up having sex with other men and enjoying the experience.

I haven't intentionally searched out stories about men-who-has-sex-with-men for years now. However, just the other day I stumbled upon some gay bondage porn. It was fascinating, mainly for the ropework and shere amount of available video. But it didn't particulary turn me on in itself. However, I remember a short moment, in one of the videos, where a man passionatly kisses another man. And again, I felt this thingling inside me. Excitement and curriousity, rolled in with a hint of what I think might be shame. As if I was seeing something forbidden, spying on them. But come on! It was porn! So obviously, I must be responding to something else.

I've noticed this before too, whenever I meet openly gay couples on the street. I'm having a hard time not to stare. I love seeing them hold eachother, kiss and show affection. And ofcourse part of that is political: I'm glad we live in a society where they're able to do that without prosecution or harassement. However, I think part of it is also this... "Thing".

I've never before realised that I had this "thing", this fascination. It's always been subtle. I won't call it a fetish, because if it had been then it would have been a more passionate urge, a longing. It isn't. Just a fascination.

Part of it, I think, is the thought everyone had when they were kids: "What if I were the oposite gender for a short period of time? What would it feel like?"

I think part of it is the voyeur in me, the one who likes to wach. I'm quite the exibitionist, and I knew I had this other side as well. It's just not as prominent as my exhibitionist side. I enjoy waching, and listening in, to people having sex. I haven't experienced this many times, but the few times I have been in such situations it's mostly been... Interesting.

Part of the fascination comes from the tabou. Ofcourse gay men and women are accepted in today's society, and I'm not saying that they aren't. HOWEVER, it's a fact that seeing women kissing and fondling eachother is A LOT more common than seeing men doing the same. Ask most straight men: They'd be ok with a threesome involving another women, but not another man. More women are openminded enough to accept both genders as a potential third. Young women who experiment with their sexuality and have sexual relations with both genders before (often) settling on one gender as they grow older is relativly common. And accepted. Men doing the same, I'm sure is also quite common, but not accepted in the same way. So you can say that it's the novelty factor that fascinates me, perhaps.

However, I still think there are reasons here that I haven't uncovered. I don't know what they are. If Freud was here, he'd probably call it penis-envy, but I suspect that's his answer to practically anything. However, the fact remains: Men in affectionate, sexual situations involving other men is fascinating. And bizarely, kissing is more fascinating than a blow job. At least right now.

I find this strange, this fascination. I'd forgotten it even excited, and yet I suspect it's been there for years. I just haven't been aware of it. It hasn't been deemed as important or relevant. And I guess it isn't, really.. But right now, I have a lot of time on my hands. Time for introspection and self-analysis. And then bits like this bob to the surface.

It's strange, what we can find when we start digging through old drawers...

Thursday, September 9, 2010

The giving of keys

Yesterday, Corvus gave himself over to me. Not in a well-overweiged, intellectual kind of way, but in a raw and instinctive kind of way. What's important to me, now, is that Corvus trusts me enough to let me inside the barriers of his mind. Yesterday was a large step in that direction. What happened was, I made him cry. Or.. More precicely, he made himself cry. He LET himself cry. But I fascilitated that step, and supported him on his journey. His emotional rollercoaster.

We started working in this direction already last Friday. After tying him to a tree and pulling his pants down to his knees, I verbally abused him. This was an expreriment to see if it would make him feel smaller and more submissive, as I know this works well for some people. It was very hard for me to do, because I had to lie. Lie in order to demean Corvus, whom I like and don't really want to hurt. We talked about it afterwards and he told me it had worked... And that he'd resisted me mostly out of stubborness and spite... And that he wished for me to take that path again, a bit further, to pull him down and have him break. He suggested that a mixture of pain and humiliation was what would be needed.

I'd planned to try something like that in any case, but his explisit wish for it to happen made me prepone my plans. ("Prepone", by the way, is the opposite of "postpone". The English didn't have a term for this concept, so English-speaking Indians made it up. I'm quite fond of it and find it very useful.)

So yesterday, Tuesday, he arrived at my place after work. We first had a couple of hours of regular bondage. His leather cuffs were locked him place, so he couldn't get out by opening them, and try all he might he was unable to get out of the ropes. That pleased me. What didn't please me was the amount of wiggleroom he still seemed to have. Need to tie him down tighter next time. He really is remarkably suple and quite strong for a man of his age and build, so I think he'll handle it.

After dinner, I decided to start on the humiliating. I won't go into details, but I used what I know about him and his interests against him. It worked quite well and he was fairly embarassed. I then had him kneel on the couch, arms over the back of the couch, and tied him in place. A rope went underneath the couch, connecting his arms to his legs. A few moments later, his butt was bare and ready for a spanking. I started out light, using only my hand. Once he'd gotten nice and warm on both cheeks, I switched to the IKEA shoehorn. Quite frequently, I took breaks and sat on a chair in front of his face. I tried further verbal humiliation, but my heart wasn't into it. I have real trouble being mean to someone. So instead I switched to praising him whilst making it absolutely clear that he was enduring this because I wanted him to.

At first, he felt so embarassed I litterary had to force his head up and he still refused to look at me. As I continued, I noticed him going through several stages. From embarassed, to confused, to angry. I told him anger would do him no good, that he'd stop that immediatly, and to my amazement that actually worked. He then had another stage of confusion and introspection, before he finally broke.

Tears didn't well up after a particulary hard stroke. He felled the first one while I was holding his head in my hands and telling him what a good job he was doing. I praised him, told him how proud I was of him and how pleased I was that he would let me do this to him. And he broke. If he'd endured much longer, I probably would have given up. I'd still have been really pleased with the day, because we'd pushed a lot of bounderies. But reaching that goal was the icing on the cake, so to speak.

I sat holding his head for a little while, letting him cry. Then I untied him and laid him down on a matress on the floor, his head in my lap. And just sat with him, stroking his head and arms, talking calmly to him, letting him cry. It was wonderful. Truly beautiful and amazing. More so for me, perhaps, beacause I've been there. I knew exactly how he felt, that feeling of cleansing and release. The care, and I'll even use the word devotion, that I felt for him right then.. It's indescribable. Very different to anything I've ever felt dominating anyone. It's comparable, but still very different, from the adoration I feel for a dominant when I'm brought to such a place of tears myself. So in a way, this feels like going full circle.

Slowly he rose from the black pit of tears and agony. I'm guessing we spent 1-1,5 hours getting him there, and another 1,5 hours getting him back up. The aftercare is vital, and I was glad to do it. Not only is it rewarding to be able to hold and comfort him, but it was also quite fascinating. I saw each step as he rose up to the surface, and the parallells to my own experiences as a submissive were clear to see. In the end, he came out clensed. When he'd let go and given in to the tears, he also released a lot of other tensions and stresses and bottled up emotions. The tears were brought on by pain and humilation, but they washed him clean. Just like I knew, or at least hoped, that they would.

How is this different from what I've done twice to Mondage? Well, Mondage wasn't a submissive to me. Sure, he has submissive tendencies, but his responses were not even close to what I'm getting from Corvus. But if I'd met Mondage now, with my current level of experience, could I have built the same kind of relationship? I think the answer is "maybe". We adapt ourselves to the people we're with. So maybe mine and Mondage's relationship could have been more of the dom/sub-kind.. But only maybe. Besides, such speculation is futile. It's water under the bridge. And I don't think it's fair to any of them that I should compare them to eachother. I'll try and stop that from here on outwards.

Once equilibrium had been reached and he'd calmed down, we drove to the BDSM club in the city center. I did some more light bondage while we were there, but only to show him and the other people there that I could. Ever since we started playing that day, he'd worn his beautiful leather cuffs locked on to his wrists and ankles. I had the keys in my pocket, and he had a backup set on his key chain. As we were sitting outside my house and were about to part for the day, I took the keys out of my pocket and wanted to unlock him. He stopped me, and told me that he had several sets of keys for those locks. He asked me to keep the set I had.

What did it mean to him, to give me a set of keys for the padlocks that lock his cuffs? I don't know. We haven't talked about it yet. But to me, it was symbolic. Of what, that is yet up to us to define.

Monday, September 6, 2010

How to BDSMify an appartement?

How to make our appartement more BDSM-friendly? Here's my todo list:

1. Get curtains! Preferably dark, heavy ones that can shut out light and unwelcome eyes and shut in any noise.
2. Find out where the beams/support structure of the rooms are. Install subtle, yet strong hooks and rings in walls and celings. Disguise by hanging lamps or plants from them.
3. Ensure that the appartement is always stocked with essentialls: Candles, ice cubes, vinyl gloves and such.. And ofcourse flat kitchen utensils and a nice shoe horn (IKEA's "Omsorg" (meaning "Care") is recomended).
4. Have a working stereo, computer speakers or similar. A bit of background music can work wonders in disguising the noises you don't want the neighbours to hear.

Step 1 and 2 are work in progress. Will get them done within the next few months.

Last week, I bought some new ropes from the store known as Biltema. 20 meters for 129 NOK is very cheap. The ropes aren't great, but they are ok. I split it into two 10 meter pieces, as that's more managable.

Since I couldn't find any of my spanking equipment, I went to IKEA today to buy a new shoe horn. At least that gives me something I can use. Besides, there's always books. I've spanked people with books before. :P

In town today, I also got ahold of bandage scissors. They are angled, and thus safer to use near the skin, should I have to cut some ropes. Besides, they're small enough to fit easily into my hand bag, which is always a plus.

Since I got home, I've made three trays of ice cubes. I hope they'll be nice and frozen by tomorrow.

Why all the fuss? Well, Corvus is comming tomorrow. This will be the first session where we're all alone in safe, warm enviornements. We have several hours to play. I'm feeling slightly apprehensive, as I don't know him that well yet, but I think it'll be cool. I just want to be well prepared, that's all.

Sunday, September 5, 2010


One thing I forgot to mention:

When I came home from playing with Corvus on Tuesday, I was soaking wet. Not from rain or anything, but from being turned on. And not just the underwear, no I'd soaked THROUGH my pants. I won't say that's a first, because that would be a lie, but it's the first time I've been THAT turned on from being the dominant.

Not quite sure what to think of all this... Should I worry that I might be loosing my submissive side all together? I choose not to think like that, because submissive fantasies still turn me on too. As long as both are appealing to me, I won't worry about it. But I'll say for sure that I'm in a very Dominant phase right now. I guess the best thing I can do is sit back and enjoy the ride... :P

Unable to express myself (that's a first!)

Stuff is happening so quickly these days, I'm starting to lag on the blogging. Not actual play sessions as such, as there's only been one since last time. No, it's more of what's going on in my head.

I was going to give a detailed report of the playing Corvus and I did on Friday, the way I usually do. But simple words like "..and then I tied him up" can't express how one bondage session can be very different from another one. Words simply aren't enough. Suffice to say that I pushed him further, in terms of pain and humiliation, than I believe he's been pushed before. His inner thighs are still spotted blue, from what he tells me.

To my suprise, my fingers started hurting last night. I couldn't figure out why, but this morning it finally hit me: I'm sore. Sore like I would be in any muscle that has been worked more than it's used to. This probably stems from the pinching, scratching and grabbing I did in quite large amounts. It's quite amusing really, that as I type this, I'm reminded (in every motion I make) of what we did on Friday. I guess it's only fair that the Dom have some slight aches and pains as well, when the sub has endured so much.

For perhaps the first time in my life I'm involved in serious playing with a submissive (I don't count Pet, as it was long ago and just a few times. I didn't know enough nor enjoy it enough, back then). One who desires to be made helpless both physically and mentally, who desires me to take responsibility and control away from him. And who'll go along with my crazy stunts as long as he isn't given the option to refuse. And I'm loving it! I didn't think I'd come to like it this much this quickly, but I do. I've been trying to write this paragraph several times now, and each time I can't find the words to express what I want. I just... Enjoy it. I really do.

Seeing him struggle against his bonds... Hearing the sounds he make, sounds of pain, pleasure and something inbetween... Seeing that look of apprehension and just a hint of fear in his eyes, as I do things to him that he hadn't been able to predict... Noticing how his body relaxes more and more, as he knows that I have taken choice and responsibility away from him... At least for that scene.

Sure, he's still got the responsibility to stop the game if he feels it's going to far too fast. That's the responsibility of any submissive! But where and how we play is something he's volunteerily given up, and placed in my hands.

As I write this, and re-read, I can see nothing extraordinary. Nothing I haven't written, or at least thought, before. And so again, I'm at loss for words. Because this DOES feel extraordinary. I just can't quite explain how or why. It's a rush, a high. Tuesday is our next "play date". I can hardly wait.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

You can't be there for everyone

Today, there was a munch at the local BDSM club. I met up with Corvus and did a few little things to him. Just to keep him on his toes, keep him guessing. I tried dripping warm wax on his arm (there are candles on every table, how great is that!), I did some more scratching, a bit of biting and a bit of tickling. Nothing major, nothing serious and not for long. But oh my, does it affect him! I'm loving every moment of it, and can't wait to get to know him better.

After he'd left, I somehow got involved with this other guy. I'm naming him Winnie. I ended up tying a harness on him, and attaching his hands and legs to the neerby furniture and wall. And then I just tested various things on him. A bit of pain, a bit of tickling, a bit of nibbling and biting etc. I've known him for years, but I haven't dominated him before. So I don't know him well in that regard. It was interesting. We aren't a perfect match, I don't get drawn to him the way I did to Mondage and Corvus. But playing with him is fun and enjoyable.

I feel rather sad for him. Like so many submissive men, he's single in every sense of the word. No love relationship, no BDSM relationship. He so badly wants to belong to someone, to be able to rely on someone and trust someone. But he's been badly burnt, both with regards to BDSM and love. And he's such a great guy! Lovable, kind, social, good-looking and cute. And he's alone. He often gets bored at club events, because nothing happens to him. He tries to be active, take initiative and get people to play, but it only rarely happens.

I feel sad for him, I wish I could help him. But I'm not what he needs. Sure we played today, and probably will play again sometime in the future. But I can't and won't go into anything longterm with him, and he knows that. Still.. It's sad.