the boy, rook

Shame, Kink, and Privacy

Leatherati has had some interesting articles lately on kink shame; and I’ve seen a (somewhat obnoxious) video floating around espousing the basic tenets of coming out as kinky to friends or family. And then yesterday rauber wrote a personal post about his own tussle with privacy over his kinky interests. So it all got me to thinking about my own perspective on kink, privacy, and shame.

Ever since I accepted that I was gay, I’ve not felt ashamed of myself. That didn’t mean I instantly came out of the closet, though. I have a life-long policy of not debating fundamentalists, or really even listening to them, so I didn’t outright tell my family not for fear or shame, but because I didn’t want to deal with their judgmental ignorance. But that was a mistake, because my being gay isn’t a phase, or a choice, or a passing interest. It’s my identity. Who I love is who I am. And those I loved deserved to know that. Today, I don’t exactly leave a glitter trail wherever I go, but I don’t shy away from describing my husband. This is a part of my identity, and I’m not ashamed of it.

But the fact is, I don’t apply the same standard to my kink. Yes, being a kinkster is a part of who I am, but I don’t feel the same need to announce it to everyone who passes by. Kink, leather, submission or BDSM do not make up the whole of my identity. What I do – in the bedroom, dungeon, conference, hotel — is not who I am. For most people, it’s none of their business. I don’t ask my family how they like to have sex, and I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business how I like to have sex. But if I was ever asked, or if the concept of kink and BDSM came up with friends (because it just never would with family … it just wouldn’t), I would defend it and describe it for those who are uninformed. Because I do believe that the kinky community is misunderstood and often maligned. And I would freely admit my interest, in context, because I’m not ashamed of it, I just enjoy my privacy.

Scene Names

In his article on the topic, Loren Berthelsen brings up a lot of concepts in a very short article. How do we deal with events, say, if going to IML and being asked why you’re traveling to Chicago. Do we just say “a convention” or do we describe exactly what IML is. And for that matter, what is IML? I think for those of us who travel to events like that, we are choosing to shed some of our right to privacy and have that responsibility to educate those who might be interested. But there’s a difference between being open and educational and ramming it down people’s throats. Just as those of us who wrestle with dual gay-Christian identities have to disassociate our love from our sex for the sex-obsessed fundamentalists, we kinksters need to be able to describe the community and enthusiast aspects of our events without leading people to being that kink-cons are just great big orgies (even if they are great big orgies … it’s all about proper messaging). READ MORE

BDSM vs. The Temple of the Holy Spirit

A friend was recently challenged by someone about whether their kinky lifestyle could possibly mesh with their Christian faith. The challenger relied on the passage from I Corinthians 6 that says “don’t you know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit? … so honor God with your body.” The challenge was, “isn’t flogging, beating, wearing leather and rubber gear abusing God’s Holy Temple?”

Oy, Paul…

So I don’t know if this post is going to matter to hardly any readers of this blog, and I don’t know whether anyone reading this has any experience in the evangelical/fundamentalist Christian faith. So if you don’t care, feel free to click through to the porn. But for those who might be interested and need a refresher, the passage above was from letter that we think Paul – an early leader of the Christian church – writing to the church in Corinth. Corinth was a burgeoning metropolis of the region, with a temple to Aphrodite (goddess of love) on the hilltop and to the god of seafarers at the coast. From what we understand it was a rather freewheeling town especially sexually, and the Christians of the town were permissive of apparently grossly indecent acts, whatever they were, something that Paul says not even the pagans would do.

The thing to know about Paul’s writings is that they are heavily dependent on context. They were specific instructions to specific people at a specific time for specific reasons. The nascent church was ever on the cusp of collapse and like any other new organization or structure, a stricter set of rules was necessary to keep things from falling apart. Moreover, Paul and the church needed, more than ever in an age of plurality and many gods, to be set apart. Set apart from the Jews who saw them as rebels or cultists, and from the greater society that more or less didn’t care. Rules were more necessary to set the church apart as something different, to garner the attention of the greater society, and hopefully point those interested toward what truly made this faith different from others: the teachings of Jesus and the radically simple Love People philosophy.

While Paul’s letters had their place, I believe they also ran counter to the core philosophy Jesus espoused; Jesus boiled the Law of the Jewish people down to simple loving tenets. Paul, a lawyer and Jewish religious scholar, essentially reintroduced rules and law to a faith that shouldn’t have needed them. He had his reasons, and they may have been valid, but the real crime has been modern Christians who turn to Paul without understanding the context. They take those letters, which I doubt Paul ever expected to last more than a few years and certainly not to be canonized, at face value. When most Christians quote scripture, they either quote something they made up (like “cleanliness is next to godliness” or “love the sinner hate the sin”), or they quote Paul. Because Paul is easily digestible spiritual-sounding nuggets for the stupid masses. It’s easier to memorize pat answers from the epistles (letters) than it is to really attempt to apply the more esoteric teachings of Jesus. Paul’s letters have their place, but only if the reader is willing to understand what he was trying to say then, and how it could possibly apply to our modern context now.

I could go on for ages about Paul, and admittedly I have much more to study as well. Even a lifetime in church and four years of theology classes isn’t enough to make me feel like I get him. But moving on to the issues at hand….

READ MORE

Random Career Goal…

Want to know what I did today? I spent hours and hours creating a database migration protocol for a client. That means writing a program that will take all their gobbledygook data that’s sitting in the old database, and rework it so it fits in the new database in a slightly less awful way. If it sounds like a boring, tedious venture fraught with unknowable pitfalls, that’s because it is!

I actually love this stuff, most of the time. I get to work for myself, work from home, and work with the web and other interactive doo-dads in ways that I truly enjoy and have fun with. (This site is not my best work.  :P ) But a lot of times, it’s boring old database migration crap. And it’s days like this that I think, “man, I would love to work on a porn site …” or something like that.

I used to have a gay friend in California who edited straight porn movies. I was intrigued in doing that as a career path, if slightly grossed out by the content. But the problem with adult websites and especially bdsm sites is that they’re kind of low tech, old, dated, poorly designed, whatever.

As a person who explores new technologies and strategies daily, I’d love to find ways to develop really cool shit for really naughty sites. I dunno if the economics of it would work out, and I couldn’t use any of it for my portfolio, but still I’ve always kinda wanted to be a webmaster to the (porn) stars.

Of course such grandiose ideas are a bit silly and unprofitable, but maybe there’s an in-between. Maybe I could barter something.

As a good sub/boy, I could (should?) use my skills in service. People like Master Taino or groups like MaST are the most revered and respected stalwarts of our community, but you know, they’re not web people. I am a web person. In service or in barter, be it for training, experience, or just a cup of coffee to chat, I wish I could use my talents to serve folks like this and help improve the overall standard for the BDSM community online.

Or something like that. I just always like to try to give back to the communities I’m a part of, some way or another.

But for now, I must get away from the computer screen before my brain rots out.

Embracing My Shy Side

I want to do so much.

And aside from the occasional concern about safety and all that jazz, I don’t have a lot of hang-ups, sexually. My biggest problem is that I’m “shy” – which I’ve made mention of in passing before. Mainly, though, I’m shy socially. Not a lot of self confidence. I think I’m unpretty, not svelte, not the kind of guy gayboys spend time on, which is a silly thing to be concerned about since gayboys aren’t my type to begin with. But I was one of those kids that was picked last for kickball and generally not part of the crowd growing up, and something of that has always stuck with me.

In London a few days ago, the hubster wanted to go to a gay bar, and I basically freaked. The whole concept of gay bars intimidates me, and we were only at the freakin’ Admiral Duncan, which on a Tuesday night is a pretty low-key non-intimidating place. I don’t know what I get so worked up about, but until I’ve had a drink or two, I just can’t relax.

So I’m working on getting over it, because that’s stupid, really. I was chatting with a guy last night and said something about how there’s all these things I want to get into and try and yes I’d love to get tied up, flogged, caged or otherwise abused and sure it’ll happen some day but “there’s no rush.” His reply was “of course there’s a rush, life is limited.” Which I may or may not agree with but it made me think to myself there is no reason to put off what I know I want to do and try and be.

Actually, it’s not what I want, it’s what I am. I know I’m a kinkster, a sub, a boy, a servant, a plaything, and I’m never going to really become that until I can embrace it, try it, learn it, and just fucking relax.

Yes, I’m shy and reserved and quiet when it comes to social settings. I don’t reach out to men on recon or fetlife or anywhere, and I should. But this is only one part of me, because in business, I’m badass. When I’m in charge, I’m the intimidating one. When I need to be “on” and impressive, I’m there. So I just need to find ways to bridge that, to get over myself and my past, and understand who I am better.

Because if I don’t learn better who I am and embrace the things that make me nervous, I’ll never live up to my potential in either my vanilla or my kinky life.

Ask Me Anything

Hey, lookitthat – my first two questions from Tumblr and Formspring Ask Me Anything.

Anonymous on Formspring asked “Hey I am based in London and saw your blog. I feel we are at the same stage of discovering the BDSM world. I just wanted to say you are luck to have a supportive boyfriend! So if I can ask, what do you think of watersport? x”

Hi Glad to hear from someone else on the journey, especially from London – one my favorite cities in all the world. It’s been a while since I’ve been back there and I’m missing it, and there are a lot more kinksters there than I ever thought there were, so that’s all the more reason to go! And my boyfriend is amazing – and I count myself lucky a thousand times over. He even tried to Dom me a little the other night, just because he knows its what I like, but more on that later.

Watersports, basically, is degrading, humiliating, kinky, and fun. For some it helps put them in the right headspace as a lowly sub/slave/boy, for others it’s a total turn on. I’ve chatted with a guy or two that loves getting pissed on – that’s all they want, and that’s their scene – nothing elaborate, just getting pissed on. I kind of joke that what I don’t really “get” about w/s is not the kink or turn-on factor, but that it makes for a pretty short session. I mean, how much can a person actually pee in any one go?

That said, I think used creatively watersports can be a hot addition to an overall scene, session or weekend. Having a party with a bunch of Doms? Put your sub out on the deck kneeling in a wash tub to serve as the toilet for everyone. Wanna push a boy in his service even when you’re not around, make him collect his urine all day, every day, between sessions. Whether he’s at work or out and about, he should carry a water bottle and fill it. Then the Dom use the urine in the next weekend session – as the only thing the boy can use to wash or drink or whatever (encouraging the boy to stay hydrated lest his pee get gross).

The possibilities for raunch are endless, I would imagine. It just depends what you’re into at the time. For me, I enjoy the idea of water sports as part of a greater scene or session, not necessarily on its own. I’ve laid in the tub so a Dom could piss on me at the end of a session and it was warm and smelled a little but wasn’t something particularly exciting on its own. Depends on whether you’ve got a good piss top I guess. And as with anything, one should be smart about playing with bodily fluids; while generally considered safe and relatively sterile, urine is not 100% clean. Just throwin’ that out there.

Great. Now all I can think about is getting tied up, kneeling, and serving as a toilet for a hot Dom or seven. Thanks a lot

By the way please feel free to email me, Mr. Anonymous from London. Love to chat and get to know others on this journey especially those with sexy accents.

Anonymous on Tumblr asked, “what makes you the most horny?”

Wow that’s a loaded question. I think if you take a look around my Tumblr raw porno feed or the blog, you’ll get a quick sense of what makes me the most horny. But here’s a few ideas…

• Almost any kind of power exchange, where I not only give up power or control, but that it is wrested away from me. Sometimes with gear. Sometimes not.
• A hot, muscled Master, perhaps with a light dusting of hair, in a leather harness will just about make me cum right then and there. Like this guy. Or him.  And this guy.
• Creativity and Complexity in a scene or setup. More than just “You’ll suck my big cock.” I crave a Master who can use my mind as much as my body. Dungeons, bondage, long scenes.
• Bondage is hot, and needn’t involve sex to be sexual or sensual or meaningful. Hardware, rope, shackles, mummification – I long to spend some time as an object.
• Pain is not something that’s particularly a turn on by itself, but the idea of pushing myself or being pushed to experience new and deeper sensations absolutely it.

That should give some sense of what makes me the most horny. I’d say it’s a pretty good summary of the things that do it best for me … considering I jacked off in the middle of writing it and finding the linkable pictures.

A Different Kind of Fantasy

So I live in New York City. We have a lot here going for us … a generally free-wheeling spirit, an openness to the weird, a large fetish network (or so I’ve been told) and of course the gay NY Bondage Club (someday I’ll work the courage). But he city is also draining, and tiresome, and poor on community and it’s tough to really build relationships and friendships here.

My bf and I don’t really intend to stay here forever. We intend to move to a mountain state out West, where there is nature and friendlier people and more to do on this earth than drink in bars. We’ll buy some land, maybe build a house, but I’d really like to build or buy a cabin. Or maybe a bunch of cabins that we could rent out on occasion (I’m always business minded, hehe).

In any case a cabin (or cabins) with plenty of space, secluded somewhere in the woods far from civilization and nosy neighbors. Set in a clearing with space for a bonfire, maybe a stream nearby, the cabin would be fully equipped and the perfect place to get away.

And built of wood, sturdy and sound, a sling could easily be attached to the ceiling of the living room, the front porch, or any bedroom. Add in the occasional inconspicuous eye hook or ring for q rope to pass through, or shackles, or handcuffs. Closets the perfect size for cages. Rubber sheets in the bottom drawer of each bedroom’s bureau. Every bed equipped with a restraint system. A kitchen that could accommodate a couple of beshackled slave/boys preparing a meal.

Outdoors, trees to tie a boy too. Stretch his arms and legs between trees, hang him by his wrists or his feet. A hose, or outdoor shower, to wash him down and clean him out. Stocks or a Cross that can be stowed for vanilla guests, but brought out for a fireside flogging with just the right group.

Yup, I pretty much want to build out the perfect place for a kinky sex romp in the woods, somewhere in the Rockies, where I can join or build or otherwise be a part of a close knit kinky community that trusts and fosters its own, while exploring all the crazy things that get us off.

In the woods.

The thing is, I could build this pretty easily. I’m the kind of person that gets and idea and makes it happen. If i can work up the money to build it, I will. I’m not as good at building the people-side of things (shy and lack of self confidence). But if I can grow as a person and a sub, I can build the perfect retreat for our people. The only thing I believe in more than dreams and ideas, is making them come alive.

It comes in cycles

So I put up a new blog, write a few posts, and then disappear for a while. Le sigh.

I’ve actually been pretty busy with work, and when I get busy with a project or set of projects that actually interest me, they tend to take all my time up because I don’t want to work on anything else. That’s fine for the project, its not fine for the two dozen other projects and responsibilities I have going at any one time. Oh well. That’s my feeble excuse for nothing being around the blog much.

But really, I’ve long noticed that my sex drive works in cycles. For a few weeks it’ll be really high, and all I can think about is getting tied up, flogged, beaten, collared, fucked, and otherwise abused. Then the cycle will drop and I’ll have very little interest in porn, jacking off, hooking up, or anything. It’s not just dirty sex – even regular sex at home is this way. I dunno what it is.

But in the dearth of blogging I haven’t completely been sexless. I had a really fun couple of evenings on a business trip to Nashville where I got tied up for the first time, tortured with wax for the first time (by someone else) in forever, gagged on a cock and got better at sucking one, and got milked something fierce – no small feat for my super-tight and anxious asshole.

What was nice about that guy – and I’ll do a proper recounting at some point – is that he’s a nice guy. Sure he’s crazy, and has an animalistic sex drive, and scared me a little, but he’s also nice and actually wanted to teach me stuff, not just get his own rocks off. I’ve met another guy recently who’s similar – we didn’t even play at all – and it’s just a good feeling to know there are sane brotherly types out there to learn from.

Anyway, back to work, now. I’ll try and be better about posting.

Quick Update: I thought about this post a little more today and I wanted to clarify that it’s only my attention that waxes and wanes, not my identity. More and more every day I understand my inclination as a sub, as a boy, and the role that part of my identity plays.  It’s a part of me, not just some fly-by-night kink that I play with on occasion. My sex drive just cycles at times, kink and vanilla included. I have a lot of different interests and projects and obsessions, they can’t all get the same attention at the same time or I’d never get anything done.

The boyfriend

I had a really good conversation with my better half this evening.

I am officially free to do any goddamn perverse thing demanded of me), and free to submit as required.  The only catch is condoms, and if I am incapacitated, my Dom/Master/Sir may need to call/text my partner to say I’m okay.

A Little Personal History: Chat Rooms & Self-Abuse

Eventually I convinced the parents to get Internet access, and soon enough I discovered porn. This was a way to see what men looked like, to learn what I wasn’t learning about sexuality. Perhaps not the most realistic environment to learn about sex in, but it did the job. Eventually I discovered Internet Relay Chat – IRC, a system of chat rooms separate from the Web, and accessible with the right software, but a whole world of any interest (sex and otherwise). Eventually I found #gaydads4sons … it was basically a chat room for the Dom/sub crowd. Along with the chat rooms where I could download all the porn I wanted, I was hooked. I logged on every night.

I chatted with anyone who was older. I upgraded my age a bit, tried different personas, became a master of cybersex. The mental stimulation, the fantasy, the imaginative sessions – it was a whole new world. I learned a lot about kink and BDSM and fetish in those days. Eventually, I did more than just cyber – I started actually doing what I was told.

I didn’t have any sex toys, of course. But I found all sorts of things around the house that could be perverted into kinky good times. Tools from the garage, food from the fridge, shoelaces, rubber bands, clothespins, binder clips. This is when I discovered a fondness for candles and wax. (It’s also when I discovered how awful Ben-gay on the penis can be.) I was pushing my own limits. I was getting as kinky as a teenager from a repressed religious household could get. I dragged the computer outside and risked getting caught. I tried phone sex. My first anal experience was with the plastic plunger handle (it was even ribbed). I tied shoestring around my balls and then to each angle, so if I spread my feet wider it wound tighter around my sack.

At the time, I was living in two worlds. At night, when everyone else had gone to bed, I stayed up late, logged on, and got off on what seemed like debased and vile activities. I kept all of this to myself, I never mentioned it, never tried anything with anyone, never considered that this would be anything other than a phase.

But when I think back over those days, I realize I was a braver teen than I ever have been an adult. I told myself as a kid when I grew up and got a credit card, I’d subscribe to the porn sites. I even said I’d submit to a Master or play in real life. But it took me years to even get butt plugs … I only bought rope and clothespins a few months ago (and still haven’t used them). I’d like to find that wonder and willingness I once had now that I’m independent, self-aware, and more understanding of myself and what’s going on.

A Little Personal History: Learning to Masturbate

Have you ever had those kinds of moments where you think back through your life and realize that your affinity for Ken dolls, Wesley Crusher and NSYNC were all clear signs of being queer as a three dollar bill at age 7? Well, I have that same thing when it come to BDSM and kink. In. Learning to explore this part of my life, I think i should take the time to realize just how deeply ingrained this is in my life. And it all started way back as a kid, before I could even cum, and before I really understood what masturbation was.

For starters, I grew up in a Christian household (something which probably leads to a lot of my tardiness in embracing myself). I was taught the science and mechanics of reproduction, but as the oldest kid and only son with a father who wasn’t around much and few friends, I didn’t really get the street smarts on sex … well, ever. So when I started to jack off, I didn’t know what it was. I wasn’t even old enough to cum yet, but I knew that it felt damned good to rub my cock on the bed, under my underwear band, whatever.

But the real point of this memory is what my fantasies were at the time. I had never seen porn, i had never seen a real cock, I’d seen almost no sex scenes in movies. But in my head, in my fantasies, I was being kidnapped and tortured for information, or being sold as a slave, or otherwise wrested from my normal life and having my life, liberty, control and will taken away. It wasn’t that i was being forced to have sex, but it was definitely losing power. I was always at risk of losing my penis or being shocked with electricity or otherwise subjected to pain unless i gave into their demands. Of course I never would.

No other fantasy would do, nothing else stirred my loins. I was a torture/pain/submission fanatic at age 10.

Soon I thought I would try acting out the fantasies in real life. With our neighborhood friends my sister and I occasionally played “school” or “house” or any other mundane daily life scenario that kids play. One day, I convinced my playmates to play “torture chamber.” Those of us who were prisoners — and of course I was one of them — were to hold onto the headboard as if we weeded chained to a rack or wall. Meanwhile our torturers would tickle our bare feet until … well we didn’t get very far after we realized we had no plot to our story, and no sexual understanding to realize what could someday come next.

And yet, I was braver as a pre-pubescent child than I have been as a professional, self-aware, out of the closet gay man.

For the life of me i can’t figure out why I ever started down this path. I cant recall any particular thing that triggered these thoughts at first. If I think about it some, I can see how my need for control and my need to always perform at my best has been with me ever since I was a kid. We moved around a lot, and I was slow to make friends, and I had pants who expected good grades and better behavior. So I was good at being in control. Is it possible that my subconscious was rebelling against that even as a kid?

In any case, this is where it all started – in my bedroom, at night, before I even knew what I was doing.