Open Relationships, Polyamory and U/us

Here, quick, let’s get the clichés out of the way:

  • “The heart wants what it wants.”
  • “Variety is the spice of life.”
  • “We have a lot of love to give.”

And let me skip to the end for a moment: we want to grow our family, to have a boyfriend / brother / boy / alpha / whatever; and lest anyone think that’s as simple as firing up Scruff, poly-dating isn’t any easier than mono-dating.

Sir and I have had an open relationship, more or less, for most of the years we’ve been together. There’s a lot reasons to embrace non-monogamy; for us, it gave us permission to try new things when neither of was very experienced sexually, or to just have some fun without worrying about losing each other, and I got some kink play before Sir became Sir.  For us, being Open has been beneficial because it gives us more ways to enjoy each other sexually and otherwise. Sometimes we play together, sometimes apart, but in all cases it’s reinforced our relationship together in some way.

For the last couple years, though, we’ve actually adopted the Polyamorous label more often than just “open.”  Not everyone sees a distinction, but there’s an important one for us: when we say we’re Poly, it means we’re opening our hearts to fall in love with someone. Poly for us is about creating deeper connections, building relationships, forging a life where there is more opportunity to love and be loved, to learn and be learned from.

I feel like an Open encounter is really about each person meeting their own needs, for example, “I need to get off” or “I want to experience XYZ,” but there is no vulnerability required, no risk of being emotionally hurt.  It’s about sex, and sex is about being carnal and getting off.

But Poly is about meeting each other’s needs, about investing in each other, it’s about falling in love and building a life. It asks “How can I help?” and “What can I do for you?” Sex is richer, too, because when there’s more in play, and more at stake, it bonds people together. Sure, we desire relationships because we want someone to want us like that, but also because we want to want someone else like that.

Open and Poly is not without risks, of course. It gets very easy to think that we aren’t enough for each other or that we’re not getting what we need from each other. But that’s not it, actually we’re more than enough for each other, and have never been happier with each other.

But we also believe we can both become more than we are today, learn more than we know today, love in ways we haven’t thought of, and experience things that neither of us can teach the other. And sure, to reference the cliche, we have a lot to give and are open to what loving others can really bring to life, because we also know we have a lot to learn. And one of the greatest ways to love others is to allow yourself to be loved, and who doesn’t want more love in their life?

We’ve had a boyfriend in our pre-kinky days, and even though the three of us made better friends than boyfriends, it was a good experience and confirmed for Sir and me that Poly is the kind of life and relationship that is right for us. In the year or since, we’ve thought more about what the difference is, and now that we have a whole new kind of life, what it means now to grow Sir’s family.

But don’t think we have or will have specifics there, because all relationships are unique and it would take all three of us investing in each other to really sort out what works and what doesn’t and what it all means.

I know for me, I want a brother. I want to serve Sir alongside another. I want to recite Sir’s mantra in unison with a brother while we’re both collared for the night. I want to cuddle at his feet when we watch movies. I want to fill our King-sized bed and make breakfast for three while they sleep in. I want Sir to be flanked at the bar by two boys who are devoted to him. I want company while Sir is out at his gaming nights, and Sir to have company while I’m traveling for work. Maybe thats a fellow boy in service, maybe that’s an alpha brother that I serve in addition to Sir and who serves Sir as well as I do. Maybe it’s some unique blend or mix we haven’t thought of.

The structure of relationships change over time, and it would be foolhardy to say “this is exactly what we want.”  But it’s also foolhardy to not acknowledge what we want and be open about it, and see what life brings us.

Any sort of relationship like this will develop over time. Sir and I have moved too fast before (more than once), we’ve been catfish’d before, we’ve gotten our hopes up before, and we’ve moved too fast,  and it doesn’t end well, because relationships need time to grow. Dating a third is like dating anyone else, you go on dates, you try things out, you talk, you explore, you sit quietly and cuddle, you scream and fuck, but most of all, you simply get to know each other and see what works. No rush, no expectations, no agenda. Just be sweet.

Update: I hesitate a bit to publish this because, frankly, I don’t want to scare anyone in my/our life into thinking we have deep expectations. So I guess, if we hang out, don’t think we have expectations or ulterior motives. But this is just a snapshot of what we’re feeling in our life, and hey, I guess you never know what’s possible. 

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I Built a Dungeon!

For the last few months, I’ve been super busy transforming a horrible spare room into a kinky adult playspace. Sir has been diving head first into His new kinky life, and we really wanted a place to dig in and explore new ideas and fun things to do. We’ve been slowly renovating our house from a ’70s catastrophe to something more livable, so it was time to finish one of the last bedrooms, and why not make it a dungeon?

Here’s what it used to look like:


Horrible carpet, ugly wallpaper, paneling, and for some unexplained reason the ceiling was lowered. It wasn’t low for any particular reason, it was low just because the builder / previous owner had terrible taste. But in order to make the room halfway usable (or eventually salable), I needed to rip out the low ceiling. That, of course, meant I had to put new drywall on the walls to fill in the gap. I left the rafters exposed for now – when we eventually sell the house I’ll have to put in a proper ceiling but for now I wanted the more industrial feel.

1-wide-shot-from-door 1-wide-shot-cage

See All the Photos and Features On the Dungeon Page »

A lot of work went into this one, and I’m really proud of it! It’s not a huge room, so an important part of the design to make everything have as many uses as possible, with convertible and multipurpose tools and toys. Here’s everything I did (for now):

  • Exposed ceiling and foundation wall, and new gray-and-red paint
  • Rubber flooring for easy post-watersports clean-up
  • A jail cell cage that converts into a glory hole, lock the boy in and use as needed!
  • The glory hole is big enough for a head to serve as stocks (in either direction)
  • Spiderweb rigging that folds down from the ceiling
  • A chain-and-rope sling with multiple hard points around the room for all sorts of configurations
  • Separate circuits for white, red, and black lights, all of which are repositionable
  • A plug in the ceiling for setting up a magic wand or single-bulb interrogation scene
  • A stool that converts into foot and/or wrist stocks
  • Eyebolts and hard points all around the room, color-coded to show what’s safe for suspension
  • An iPad control panel for music, with a custom app that describes the gear and can call the houseboy (me) to the room for anything Sir Kukris or visiting Doms may need
  • Plus lots of little surprises and features

Check out all the pictures and descriptions on the Dungeon page. Coming up in the near future, I’ll start building more kinky furniture like a spanking/fucking bench and a bondage table.

And if you are interested, we welcome guests! Whether you’re local or visiting Denver, cum and play! We’re interested in subs who want to serve Sir in there, Masters who want to use me, play with both of us, or simply borrow it for your own use. Whatever kinky scene you want to try, I’m happy to help set up for/with you. Learn more and send us a note on the Dungeon page.

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A Cuckolding: A Story of Surrender

Full surrender is not easy. It’s one thing to submit, and to serve, but to fully surrender my desires—and be Master’s tool for his own—can at times create such a divide between what I think I feel and what I should feel or what I believe. These are the times I fail at submission, when I seek to fulfill my own horniness and desires. Last night was a new experience for this boy, and it went something like this.

Surrender. More than service, more than submission, not even subjugation. Surrender. Knees collapsed, head bowed, palms up, and given over. Surrender.

Sir and I got home from a long day’s drive home from Las Vegas. We sat in our usual positions—him on the couch, me on the floor in front of him, shirtless—smoking some weed and watching some television to unwind. He sent me for some rope and tied a nice tight harness with some fantastic intricate knot work on the front. He decided he also wanted to tie up our house guest.

The house guest (let’s call him R) comes back from walking his dog and strips naked. Sir is just wearing his comfy shorts; that look of dominance that makes me melt is in his eyes. They start the dance.

Damn, they’re both so fucking hot. 

Sir slipped the rope over R’s head. R’s hands are at his side, he plays with his balls a little bit. Sir runs his hands over R’s body as he threads the rope around and around. I watch from my place on the floor, my own harness tight around my shoulders.

Very hot. I want to worship them both. R’s dick is starting to stiffen; I want to make R’s cock hard and swallow him whole, I want Sir to tie us together, to force my head down his shaft and hold it there. I want to be their cum dump. 

I’m getting stiff myself, I’ll play with my own pathetic cock while Sir shares his light and skill with this friend. I’m biting my lip, this is that feeling of growing urge for cock and cum, that fuels my worship and feeds my soul. 

I’m not happy with how I must look right now. I feel fat. Never like being shirtless, but still I feel pretty good about myself; I’m tied up, I’m collared.

R doesn’t look at me, he stares ahead; he glances at me if he makes a comment about Sir’s work feeling good, I nod in agreement, he looked away pretty quickly.

Enjoy it, brother. Damn I want to bury my face in his crotch and make him moan. 

Sir saw me playing with myself. He stared a second longer than a glance. Should I stop? Am I breaking a rule? He didn’t tell me to stop, so until he does I’ll just avoid getting close. 

The harness is tied on R. One rope forms the chest piece, another wraps down around his torso, through his legs and up his back.

Beautiful work. Sir does such great work now, better every time, I’m so proud to see it and be his. 

“Go to your room, I want to do more on your bed,” Sir says to R. He complies, and Sir tells me to follow them.

Will he tie us together on the bed? Will he have me worship R again like last time? I want to be a part, but will wait for Sir.

I stand in the doorway as R turns on some porn in his room, laying on his back on the bed, Sir kneeling between his legs. Sir orders me to the other side of the bed where I can watch closer.

I’m ready however you want me, Sir. 

I watch as R lounges, quietly moaning as Sir begins to tie up his legs, looping the rope around and around with a little knot pulled tight each time.

I want to rub my hands all over them both, I want to make R fall into ecstasy as he feels the rope. It feels good, I want to make them feel more.

Stay at attention, don’t force yourself into it. Sir will tell you want to do when he’s ready. 

R plays with his and Sir’s cocks as he’s being tied. I see them both stiffen, Sir’s well endowed torpedo getting hard as R massages it with some lube.

Sir asks, I answer it looks great. He pulls me over to kiss him, and then I step back out of the way waiting for orders. The tie is done. R’s legs are splayed open, exposing his cock and hole as he lays on his back.

What’s happening now? 

More lube… 

Sir’s moving toward him. 

Sir’s going to fuck him. 

I’m standing here, watching, Sir is taking what he wants. This is Sir’s right. 

Sir glanced at me, does he want me closer? No, he was just checking on me. Okay. I watch. 

Sir’s going to fuck him. His cock is at the door. R says its okay. 

Sir is in. It was like it was no effort at all. 

R barely flinched. I always flinch. R has barely made a sound; I always grunt and scream and shout in ecstasy. Did R barely feel it? I always feel like I’m being impaled, and I love that, but it’s intense at first, and sometimes Sir has to go slower than he wishes he could.

Is R a better bottom? Yeah, probably. I should plug more, maybe permanently. I need to be a better bottom so Sir can just bend me over and slide right in like he can with R. 

Did Sir know whether R was cleaned out or not? Did he fuck him anyway? Does he not care?  He just slid right into him, no care, no thought to it. Maybe they already talked about it. He almost always cares with me; if I don’t prepare he defers. I’ve had one too many mistakes, he probably doesn’t—and shouldn’t—trust my ass to be clean? I should be sure to be clean every night, even those days—like this one—he tells me I don’t need to. I need to be a better boy, and I need to be fuckable at all times. 

Sir is fucking him. I’m… not involved. Not yet?  I’m not going to be involved here, am I? Well okay, I can watch, I can watch my Master fuck—I almost never get to see it from the outside. 

It goes on. Sir tells me to come closer to the bed, “Watch me fuck him.”

Surrender isn’t easy. It’s scary.  What happens to me after full surrender? What happens to me when I’m laid out completely bare and vulnerable; when I give up the last shred and breath of power to his will…

Watch me fuck him. 

My hands are clasped behind my back in a standard pose. I look down at their crotches.

It’s beautiful. Sir’s cock … in and out, so big, so long, so thick. Is this what it looks like when he fucks me? 

I don’t think I want to watch his cock this close. So I step back again.

What am I feeling? What is this? I’m a boy, I’m Sir’s boy, and he’s not using me. Okay, that’s okay. He doesn’t love R or like him more than me, I’m still his boy. He wants to fuck this boy and he should. I want him to. This is what we believe.

He’s fucking faster. Goddamn I do love watching him fuck. The way his ass and lower back gyrate, like a fluid wave, constant and deep. I can still see his cock sliding in and out in my mind, even though legs hide it now. 

He’s going to cum. 

And I’m not, at least not now. He likes that I’m watching. I like that he likes that I’m watching. I like that I’m watching, but what else? 

Am I jealous … no, not really. I mean maybe. But what am I jealous of? That I’m not getting fucked? That I’m not getting to participate. That I’m not as good a bottom or boy. That … 

I’m being selfish. Stop being selfish. Stop … 

Maybe Sir will fuck this boy and then jack me off as a reward for watching. 

That’s stupid, that’s selfish. Stop being selfish. 

I’m watching my Master fuck another, and my role is to stand here and watch. Not help. Not participate, but watch my Master fuck because he damn well wants to fuck. 

What am I feeling? What is happening? I’m high, that’s fucking with my self perception. Jesus I want to cum, I want to be having sex right now. But no, I need to feel the pleasure that my Master feels from this; I need Master to get exactly whatever he wants. 

I get to be here. Sir could have ordered me upstairs while he fucks R. He wants me to watch, he wants me to watch and not do anything else but watch. Instead I get to watch my Master experience pleasure. And if he’s getting any pleasure from me it’s from denying me. That’s hot, but it sucks a little bit too. 

He’s going to cum. 

He’s cumming. There’s that final thrust. 

He pulled out. Enough cum that his cock is covered in it. I just watched him fuck another boy, and all I could was watch. I feel a little helpless, a little sidelined. 

I’m happy, I’m happy I got to watch, I’m happy Sir fucked another boy with me watching and without me getting anything and without really caring whether I was or was not being physically gratified. I’m happy to be his boy, standing to the side waiting for orders if they should come, and if they don’t, then I watch and wait while Master pleases himself and pleases this boy. 

No Sir, I don’t really know what I’m feeling. That’s the truth. This was good, this was right, this was hot, this was something I’ve wanted—to be ready to serve while you take whatever you want, my own desires aside—and yet I don’t understand what just happened. I don’t know what I’m feeling.

I want to cum, can I cum? I cannot ask, Sir will say no, and besides, I’m supposed to stop asking to cum, I’m supposed to live in submission until Sir wants me to cum for some reason. No I won’t ask, I will simply wait.  This isn’t about me, nothing is about me anymore, I’ve surrendered all of that. My life is about Sir, and Sir has taken what he wanted and from me, he wanted me to watch. 

There, I can see it in his glance, Sir is done for the night. He’s happy and spent. Good. I will clean up the family room and join him in our bedroom. I will go to sleep. 

My mind continued to turn over what happened, what I was feeling, and I really just didn’t know. In my half-consciousness just before sleep, it dawns on me.

That was cuckolding.

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Sometimes I Think I Could Be a Switch

At Thunder earlier this summer, one of the seminars I went to was all about interrogation. It was a reasonably good discussion on the topic, though I was honestly only half paying attention because Sir was off buying a flogger and texting me questions. But as I’m listening and watching the presentation on various techniques—from the types of things to ask to disorientation to demanding absurd answers—I kind of began to think how much fun it would be to design something like an interrogation scheme. And since I would be designing it, I couldn’t very well be the sub in it, so does that mean I could really Dom on occasion?

I love and crave creativity, complexity, and immersion. Of course I don’t play in kinkspace simply to fulfill fantasies, but the very nature of kink is creativity, so designing a short term, immersive scene absolutely has it’s place. And I love that—I love throwing parties and events because I can create experiences. Sexual experiences should be as much if not immensely more intense and visceral. Sex is biological, the mind and imagination make it sensual.

In the sense of creating something for someone else, of helping another fulfill their fantasies or try something new … I could be a switch for that, because ultimately that is still about serving someone else, even if in order to serve I have to control.

There are Four Lights!
I have been attracted to the idea of interrogation (among a variety of other scene themes) largely thanks to Star Trek. The geekiest kinksters know exactly what I’m referring to: an episode in TNG where Picard is kidnapped and tortured-interrogated. He ultimately resists, but the mind game the interrogator plays has been a recurring fantasy ever since. And yet, creating an immersive and complete scene is not easy, and there are not many other kinksters and Doms who can dive as deeply into it as I would hope.

So if I’m one who creates immersive experiences for fun, and I can dream up a start-to-finish scene with all the visceral and mental bells and whistles, could I do that for another sub? I would love to. I would love to create the pretexts, the setting, the tone, the plan of activities, and go on a mental-sexual journey with someone by diving deep into some other role.

And importantly, I think I would get something out of being the Dom for a scene, because it would allow me to flex my creativity and experiment with something new. I don’t think of myself as a Dom, and it’s not something I want for myself. I’m not a good top sexually, and I have to be the boss too much as it is in my work life: so I am not fulfilled by dominance, I live to serve.

But in this one case, in the sense of creating something for someone else, of helping another fulfill their fantasies or try something new? Yes, I could be a switch for that, because ultimately that is still about serving someone else, even if in order to serve I have to control.

So… any takers?

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Service gives me Direction & Purpose

We all have those little chores and responsibilities we know we’re supposed to do. After work we’re supposed to pay the bills, make dinner, do the laundry, maybe go to the gym. But before I entered Master’s service, I was terribly undisciplined about all that sort of thing. I was the king of making excuses:

  • a busy day at work meant going into the office early, no time for the gym
  • long stressful days at work meant by the time I got home I didn’t want to go to the gym, or cook dinner, or do anything but maybe look at porn or watch TV
  • I let the mail pile up, because I’ll take care of everything this weekend. And then I don’t. And bills go unpaid.
  • Too tired or stressed to cook, to workout, to clean the house, to work on a project, to read, all those things.

It’s not the life I want to live. Frankly I was directionless and had no motivation; I would get home and not really feel like doing anything in particular, and so I would do nothing. I just felt like I was existing, moving from one day to the next, putting things off until they reached critical mass—the mail pile tipped over or the mad dash to clean the house before friends came over. It’s not fulfilling. It’s not manly.

Yes—the sex is amazing, dancing on the edge of pain and pleasure is exhilarating, and my heart races every time I feel rope on my skin. But this is why I serve: because it motivates me toward a better and more fulfilled life. To become a boy I need to embrace and celebrate service outside of sex, and the pure joy it brings.

As I was driving home from work this week, I was thinking about what was ahead of me when I got home—I had to go to the gym, make dinner, clean the kitchen, do the laundry—and that’s all after the Presentation ritual, kneeling before Sir to be accepted again as his boy. The difference between now and before was in stark relief for me in that moment. When I go home now, I have chores and duties. I have direction—a list of things that are expected of me.

I feel motivated to do the things I ought because it’s part of my role as a servant, because it’s expected of me, because I have orders. I don’t have the choice of slacking off anymore, I don’t get to be lazy because it’s easier. And yes, I have orders and I choose to follow those orders, but I derive such great fulfillment and meaning from my new life of service. I feel a much greater sense of purpose. Because I choose to surrender and to serve, to give up my own will and lack of willpower to a loving master who directs me to become a better person.

This is why I serve: because it motivates me toward a better and more fulfilled life. Yes—the sex is amazing, dancing on the edge of pain and pleasure is exhilarating, and my heart races every time I feel rope on my skin. But not every day can run at full speed, and for me to become a boy I need to embrace and celebrate service outside of sex, and the pure joy it brings.

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Where Pain Becomes Pleasure: Wax Play with Sir

Have you ever danced on the line of pleasure and pain? Have you ever been dragged across it and dunked headfirst in a whirlpool of nerves firing hard and fast, confusing the reality of self-preservation and self-fulfillment? Have you ever been tortured to the point of ejaculation, only to be fucked hard and raw until you’re a whimpering puddle of a man who only craves more?

Sir took me on this journey a few days ago as He brought along blacklight paraffin wax candles and ice. This is actually what happened:

bp188This isn’t me of course, Sir didn’t take any photos this time; I dunno if He used this much wax but it sure as hell felt like it. 

Ordered to the bedroom, stripped, groped and put face down on the bed, I laid in the purple glow trying to find a headspace where I could endure what was about to come. As the candles burnt and the wax melted, He knelt beside me and ran his hand down by back, across my ass, tickling my balls, tickling my hole, and with a sudden shock I felt the hot burning wax. It wasn’t a dribble, and it wasn’t teasing, it felt like a bucket of burning. I gasped, I wretched my shoulders back and scooted up the bed involuntarily, simultaneously wanting to get away and not.

He didn’t wait long before the next hit, and the next. We have three of these little fuckers (and He was only using two). I’ve done wax before, but this was new, this felt like so much more, and hotter (despite knowing paraffin is not as hot). He dribbled and traced lines of wax around my shoulder blades and let it pool in the small of my back. I continued to gasp and twitch, but it also felt kinda good, and then He stopped.

I needed this, and I needed him, and I wanted to please him and be used by him and let him do anything He wanted to me, because I’d never passed over this endorphic threshold so violently and so deeply.

Maybe I was twitching too much, but He got out some rope and bound my feet together. No kicking! I couldn’t have fought him if I wanted to, I was breathing hard and trying to understand the sensations I still felt in my skin. Feet bound, He came back, and there was a pause – a slight pause, but one that felt like minutes before the wax hit again. And again. And more, and it wouldn’t stop, and then all of a sudden, it felt different.

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Thunder in the Mountains: Popping our Convention Cherry

Every year Denver is home to Thunder in the Mountains – the rocky mountain kink convention that is part education, part exhibition, part play time. Neither Sir or I had ever been to a kink gathering like this, and so we decided to pop that cherry. We had a great time. (This is long overdue, since the event is at the end of June.)

We learned a lot—especially from Midori, an irrefutable goddess of rope and kink. Her first class was all about the art of negotiation, but negotiation as seduction, as intimate conversation, and most of the audience needed a breather and a cigarette after. If you ever want to play with Sir (and/or me) now, you’re in for helluva foreplay just in terms of negotiation, though we need more practice in it so feel free to ask! 😉

Learning kink is like fisting. Slowly stretch the mind and let it relax, and next time you can fit more stuff in there.

Her rope class the next day was just as amazing, she started with a demo session that was bondage-meets-dance-meets-domination, and it was like nothing we’ve ever seen. Seriously if you ever have the chance to learn from this woman, you must take it. You simply must. We will probably travel in the next year to attend one of her Rope Dojo weekend intensives, she’s that amazing.

Thunder also has a huge dungeon playspace, with a little area condoned off just for male-male play (and another one for lesbians). Alas, there was an extreme paucity of gay men at the event despite being operated by a gay couple; I guess there’s been some drama over the years (big surprise) and generally our gay kinksters don’t seem to go. I’ll be recruiting all of you next year! But we had a great time with a couple of friends, who taught Sir how to flog. Then he bought a flogger. I’m a happy boy.

We also learned about fire & ice play, cupping, vac racks, and I learned a little bit about interrogation play. We tried to go to a class about protocol, but frankly, it was terrible and a good example of what happens when you have a self-important and Dom who is just shy of a bully. It was a real disappointment.

But there are good and bad in everything, and overall it was a huge success. But it was also overwhelming by the end, especially for Sir.

When you’re first diving into something new—like kink—I believe one should embrace it without reservation and try to experience as many things as one can. But go about it with a clear head, too; because aside from the inherent dangers of our lifestyle (especially with bad Doms), it’s like stepping into an alien world. There is so much to see, so much to learn, so much experience, (so much to buy) … it can really be overstimulating.

Your head can swim in pleasure and ecstasy but also in confusion and nerves. It’s like fisting. The asshole has to be stretched over time, and let it retract a little, but the next time it’ll be easier to stick bigger and bigger stuff in there. Same with the mind, you should experience and try new things, but it takes time to really let it sink in. It’s okay to forget things or let them slide by, but always be willing to try again until you learn what works for you.


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Summertime Madness But We’re Still Here

We’re still here! And we’re still very much kinky. I’ve done a poor job of blogging this summer, mainly because I’ve been absolutely slammed with life, as usual, including travel to Tanzania from where I just got home. But regardless of what shows up on the blog—and there will be much more regular updates now (because I’m required to)—Sir and I are still quite entrenched in our 24/7 power exchange life.

In fact, before too long we’ll have an official contract in place, detailing the rules and protocols of his house (along with goals, rewards, punishments, and all sorts of other things). I’m really excited by taking this thing to the next level. I’ve been itching to fall deeper into service and the mindset, to create our own rituals and dive into the myriad ways to express dominance and submission (and of course kinky sex). Sir has needed the time to really come to understand His Dominance, and He’s about to leap further into it in a big way. It’s exciting! But more about this stuff later.

This summer has been busy. We went to our first kink convention—Thunder in the Mountains—and learned a lot while having a great time. Sir even learned to flog and now He has a flogger! And some nicer hemp rope.

The sex has been pretty fucking amazing this summer. More about Thunder later.

We were going to go to Las Vegas for July 4th but delayed that until October. We had some family come to visit (that was … special). I’ve had three work trips to North Carolina, St. Louis, and Tanzania, and we also went to Gen Con in Indianapolis. Meanwhile, at work my team has whittled from three to me, so that has been both frustratingly busy but a great opportunity to really flex and strut.

Now we’re suddenly nearing the end of summer. Work is still crazy busy, but I feel like things are under control better than they were. Sir is writing a contract and gearing up to take things to the next level. Life is generally really good, I’m really happy, and I’m looking forward to seeing what’s about to happen!

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My New Day Collar


It didn’t take long before Sir and I started talking about a permanent collar. We had dinner with another D/s couple a few weeks in, and she had a beautiful steel necklace that passed as interesting jewelry but was clearly a collar. That got Sir to thinking and we started poking around where we could find a suitable day collar.

A day collar for me is something that I can wear everywhere. I don’t have a job where I can easily wear something like a chain and lock, or even a steel loop. But I wanted something that was a clear symbol of permanent service, masculine and not merely a necklace. I think Sir and I had somewhat different ideas about what would be a suitable collar; I was concerned about it being too showy and personally, I liked the chain look. He wanted something different. He also wanted something more custom.

In the end, he had some ideas and I had found one particular Etsy shop that made great day collars with snake coil sterling silver chain. Sir customized it with a three-inch silver bar right in the middle. And this particular Etsy shop owner has designed her own proprietary locking mechanism – instead of a typical latch, the collar is secured with an allen key lock and I can’t get it off my head.

I wear it all the time, obviously. It only comes off if Sir is putting a service collar on me. I wear it at work, at the gym. It’s long enough that it passes as a nice necklace, but short enough that it routinely shows through the top of my buttoned shirts or pops out of T-shirts. It’s already been noticed by friends, one of whom immediately recognized it for what it is.

The maker did a great job, and you should check out her stuff at SkyWireDesigns on Etsy.

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A bit carried away while Master’s gone

Sir’s is gone this week on a volunteering trip, and while he’s gone I’ve been renovating his home office, because it was pretty much the dumping ground for random shit and we still had stuff crammed in boxes crammed in the closet from our move 2 years ago.

While he’s gone I also have the assignment to take a selfie every day. I may have gotten a little carried away on this one … I blame the paint fumes.

2015-06-07 17.54.13

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I Made Master a Paddle

“I want you make me a paddle.”

I like to work with wood (ha). I built a full oak bar complete with a kegerator and plumbing when we renovated our house. I’ve done a lot of construction around the house. I love to create things.

We were on our way to Home Depot and he says this to me and I say, “wait, you want me to fashion you the implement of my own punishment?” Yes. The answer was yes. Well fuck. Spanking is not my thing, really, and it is absolutely a way to punish me, and now he wanted me to make him the tool. On the one hand I was keen for the challenge, on the other, I don’t want to make him a paddle! Sigh.

I thought of ways to mitigate the horribleness of the task. I could make it from pine – a softer lighter wood. I could inlay it with leather or even pad it a bit. In the end I said I would make him the paddle, of course, but it would be my gift to him and he couldn’t see it until it was done. I spent the weekend on it, banishing him from the garage. By Tuesday morning, it was ready, and I left it for him on the kitchen table when I went to work.

I named it Hyde. [Continue Reading to see a Picture] 

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What’s Past the Horizon?

Six weeks into this new life, Sir and I were visiting family in North Carolina (same trip where I wrote this). On the day he joined me in town, I felt like a puppy seeing his owner. All the tension of the work week vanished and I felt so at peace again just to be with him. Going to bed that night, I think we both expected him to use me and we’d crash. Instead, we just talked. And talked. And talked.

Communication has always been a strong point of our relationship, but ever since things changed we’ve managed to talk even more. Because it really is like we’ve met each other all over again. I told him how I wanted to lose myself in service to him—surprisingly I’ve had some fits and starts in embracing my submission. I want him to have all of me: mind, body, and will. I believed in him, he is like my god and I’m utterly devoted to him. He, in turn, continued to express how much he loved me and how marveled he was that he was both finding this dormant but deeply dominant part of himself, and that he was finally seeing the whole of me for the first time.

At one point, he was on top of me, and just staring down at me, his cock slick with my spit and just holding me down with nothing but the pressure of his body. I looked up into his face, and I saw a different man.

My husband was kind and silly and sweet and baby faced. This man, while still kind, was firm. Still silly and fun, but resolute. Throughout our 10 years my mental image of him was the little soft slightly naive baby face that I fell in love with. But suddenly, I was looking into the hardened, older face of not just my husband, but my master. It was the strangest sensation and realization. I almost didn’t know who he was, it was like a whole new man was in bed with me, who knows me so well but one whom I barely recognize. It was beautiful. And it was the moment I knew this was real and not a game, and that my devotion was well placed.

Things change. Rule of life and all that shit. But sometimes, things change quickly. When you accept and embrace who you are, it’s like dominos falling one after the other in mesmerizing automation. For Sir and I, every preconceived notion of who we are as men and as a couple has been challenged. And for Sir, every notion of what is interesting or what is a limit is being challenged too.

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Just Getting Started

We call it the Peter Epoch.

It was last Fall, and I was on a business trip and my husband was at a local conference, half-stalking half-seducing this cutie from NYC. They hit it off, and I started getting cute texts of two sexy men having some fun at home. It was the night that my husband—typically the top—was introduced to the joys and wonders of getting fucked.

After that night, sex between He and I got better and better. Peter taught him new techniques, and in the middle of getting drilled I shouted “You getting fucked was the best thing to happen to meeeeee!” because holy shit. Soon after we embraced poly and started dating a guy who was also pretty damn good in the sack, and so our amazing new world of hot sex just went on and on. Every time we fucked I was cumming multiple times.

We went to Hawai’i for our 10th anniversary at the beginning of April (where, by the way, I was pleasantly abused by a hot German at our nudist B&B). My birthday is the day after we get home, and when I get home from work he says to me, with some encouraged from-again-Peter,  “I think I want to try pissing on you.”

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What Have I Become?

What have I become? What’s happened to me?

10 years ago, I was so afraid of sex. I was pathologically afraid of disease and of getting hurt beyond what I thought I could do. The husband and I rarely fucked. We sucked some, did some frottage, but it took a long time and usually a lot of alcohol before I could take his cock. Granted, he’s pretty well-endowed, but still, we didn’t do much to practice.

Today? I’m in a hotel room, separated from my husband-now-Master, and I’m riding a dildo molded from his cock, and I can’t get enough. Funnily enough I made this dildo with him so I could have it while on business trips, but only started using it in earnest in the last couple of years. And right now I’m locked in chastity, I can’t get hard, and the best I can do is ride this big ol’ dildo just so it hits my prostate just right, and all I want to do is cum.

Sex started getting good before we became Master and boy, but ever since, it’s 100 times more. And now here I am, in a hotel, and instead of finding some trick to hook up with I’m a happy little slut for my master’s dildo. And not all that long ago, there’s no way in hell I could take this. I can’t get enough. I need to be fucked long and hard and deep by this huge cock—a cock that makes other men and boys nervous, and I can say “yeah, I get fucked by that almost every day.”

Life is so good right now.

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That Urge At the Base of My Cock

(Yes, I’ll be posting more about my new relationship with Master … here’s a quickie)

I’m on a business trip right now. Actually we have a family obligation in the same city where I have an office, so I came into town early and Master is joining me in two days. In the meantime, he told me I’m not to play with myself and sure-as-hell cannot cum while we’re apart. I voluntarily pulled out my chastity device and put it on as soon as I passed through airport security. Now I’m in the hotel room, naked, with my service collar on, a day-cuff on my wrist, and in chastity.

When I’m in service, and especially when in chastity, I don’t care about my ability to get hard (or not) or cum. For me, my favorite part is that urge, that groan, that desire that I feel right at the base of my cock. Under my cock, really. Not in my balls, not in the head, but right there below the base, where there is just that constant groan of desire. I don’t have to be hard to feel it, I don’t have to cum, all I have to feel is that groan and I know I’m in the right place in my life. I know that my dreams are coming true, even if my cock cannot cum.

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