There is not much to say on this post aside to report back that I have had a chance to weigh the Axel versus the Steelheart as many people had questions about this when I received it. As you will see, from a strictly scale point of view, the weight differences are not huge. However, when you consider where it hangs on your body, a few ounces can make a big difference, so, for what it’s worth, I thought I would measure.

For those who, like me, are metric system challenged, I have included the weights in both grams and ounces. The Axel was measured with the scrotal cuff on and off as well. For the best comparison it would be the base Axel versus the Steelheart because they are both just rings and cages without any extra bling.

So, no reviews, no real thoughts, just the following facts:

Base Axel (ounces and grams):


Axel with Scrotal Cuff:




That’s it. Just the numbers tonight.

Fucking a Friend?

Fuck buddies.

It’s a name, a title, a concept I never liked. In fact, way back when at the start of my last adventure, I believe I was rather insistent that we never refer to ourselves as those two words because, as I vowed, we would be more than that, we would be more special, we would be, at a minimum, Friends with Benefits, despite the fact neither of us could offer the other a retirement plan or health insurance.

As we evolved, we somehow used the term boyfriend, though in our case, it truly meant a base of Friendship with Benefits because the physical distance and the emotional attachment, while there, was so much more different than a boyfriend relationship.  As you know, as we tried, or more so, as I tried, to justify the word more and more, it just created an unnatural line that became forced and caused some trouble when taken too deeply, though I am proud to say it didn’t damage the F side of that wording in the slightest.

All of this caused me to step back and ask myself why I have been so opposed to having someone who is “just a fuck buddy” who would come to me, and possibly with me, without any expectation that I would ever see them again or know their children’s names or what street they grew up on. I thought maybe I was being prudish and that I needed to get over the romantic notion of bringing the other a towel or inquiring if he might be hungry and want to go get some food. I also wondered if my opposition to this was out of respect for Axel, as I could not justify stepping outside of my marriage for just some random dude with a nice ass, mouth, or dick because it seemed to make that act a bit more dangerous or “in your face” to him, when he has granted me this privilege which was derived deeply by his love for me. In my line of work, I certainly have plenty of opportunity to lead this life, but I just don’t. Never have. But I still wondered.

Since this is how my mind works – nonstop, incessantly trying to think of an issue and solve it – these were just random wonders and they didn’t matter much until they did. Over the last few weeks I have been offered several chances to have a fuck buddy as several guys have raised their hands to this idea, but, like before, I either shut this down completely myself or they shut it down because I asked one too many questions, wanted to know one too many things about them, or, once, I even dared ask a last name, which is apparently a do not do in the world of random tricking – who knew?  For a millisecond I felt bad about this, I blamed myself for once again depriving me of an opportunity or three, but then I got over it each and every time because, the reality here is, it’s just not who I am and I am okay with that.

I will never be Mr. Right Now and that’s just fine.

Remembering far back to my single days when I had swooping ginger toned hair, bright blue eyes and legs of steel, I never once had a one night stand. In fact, I never once even made out with anyone whose mother’s name I didn’t know (I am exaggerating but you get the point), so why would I expect this core part of who I am to have changed? One might call it a virtue while another call it boring, but it’s just me and, with that, the fuck buddy idea has been officially closed.

That said, the Friends with Benefits box remains open and I think this is likely the stage I will always stay at, because it pretty much says everything I need to say within that one line. Not shockingly, I am sure, I will admit to having thought a lot about this the last few weeks too and, like I said above, I have really come to peace with that category. However, I would suspect that I am likely in a tiny percentile of people who categorize it in their head like me, because, for myself, the peripherals around the sex such as the flirting, the meals, and the building of a friendship IS the benefit aspect of it, while the sex is just sex. I truly value the beauty and art of interpersonal communication and, while the sex is not bad at all, the privacy of the conversation that surrounds that is likely one of my bigger drivers. I realize that many people, particularly those with a penis, will not understand this viewpoint, but I do now, and I guess that is all that is going to matter moving forward but it does create a dandy of a dilemma of what to title a profile, huh?

As an FYI, here is a nifty little guide to the difference between FB and FWB


Rule Number 22

Rule Number 22:

“Number 22 – Never let Thanksgiving Day go past without writing your thanks for what was new that year”.

Last year,  I posted my first ever kinky Thanksgiving version of my Rule 22, which, in summary is essentially this:

So, Rule Number 22? This goes back to my early days when for some reason (I think I saw it in a movie) I created a list of 27 rules to live my life by on or around my 16th birthday. Although it’s been edited or added to through the years, I carried this tattered piece of paper around in my wallet every day of my life until what is now known and the “great washer incident” of 2013 when I accidentally washed my wallet and disintegrated the already disintegrating list. Luckily, I had taken pictures of it and have those stored, but it’s not the same without that paper.


The post I did last year goes back to some pretty basic stuff and was written toward the end of my first kinky month with the rabbit, so I focused on what I was thankful for at that stage in our new relationship and with the burgeoning world of kink coming more my way by the day, I really had no idea what the next year would bring. But, as Rule 22 clearly states, I am to write my thanks for what was new since last Thanksgiving, so, be warned, this year’s list may be long.

That said, for 2015, in my kinky world, I am thankful for the following:

My perverted friends.

This year, my Twitter world opened up to several new, rather deep, online relationships where a few have turned into actual real life friendships. While there is much more to say, I specifically want to say I am thankful for Kiwi, Ferns, Hapa, Pierced Tex, Dutchbound, and Subgetsowned for opening up with me and blending our real life worlds and kinky subcultured worlds into a fun mix of the day to day mixed with witty discussions that have just made my world that much more special.

My blog friends:

Caged Lion, Chaste Cyclist, Nerdy Dirty Girl, Tom Allen,  Mary (the English one, not the mean one), Mrs. Fever, Andy (or Ruffled or whatever you are calling yourself now), Geek Domme, Metal, The Steeled Snake Family, Kelly, Willflyaway and a few others I have surely missed, your comments, thoughts, and your own writings have helped shape me as a person, as a kinkster, as a Dom, and as a sub throughout this year and for the future, so, for that, I am thankful.

Steelwerks Extreme:

Steelwerks Extreme and I started a relationship with a small curved barbell and that grew into a mass of titanium and a bit of steel that I am currently locked in as I type this. At first, it was a rather pricey investment but I feel very thankful for that fact that that initial investment turned into a genuine friendship with Chris, the artist, the owner, the kinkster, and now my HFBFF, that will likely lead to some fun in person times together again as well as to surely more things attached to and in my penis. (I realize I sound like a continued ad for this company, but it’s just a fucking amazing experience and place to be associated with).


This goes beyond thankful into a whole other realm of love, passion, trust, and lust, but I am now and will forever be thankful for Axel and his trust of me. Period.

Plugs, Dildos, Clamps, Floggers and More:

This year a rabbit we all know showed me many new uses for all of these items and thankfulness is a mild word compared to how I feel about these.

W Hotels:

Their sweet, sexy, and almost stark interiors set the backdrop for some wildly fun, vividly decorated afternoons which continues to leave me thankful.

Quantas Airlines:

Your lovely suite helped Axel and I join the mile high club horizontally, something 2015 will be remembered for, thankfully.

Belle Fille:

Without her trust in 2015, most of all of those would not have been possible and I just don’t want anyone to ever think I am not thankful for that now or in the past.

The Bigoted, Narrow Minded, Homophobic Commenters:

It may sound odd, but for each time one of you left me a gift, the initial sting was ALWAYS replaced by a zap of kinky energy and self pride, so, yeah, I am even thankful to you.

The Supreme Court of the United States:

June 26th, the day my marriage became even more legal, is a day I will never, ever forget to be thankful to this body of men and women.

Major League Baseball:

This. Made. My. Year. It did so in a variety of unexpected ways, but I am incredibly thankful.

Social Media:

My life is one where I truly envelope social media in all forms, and for my kink side, this has helped tremendously. So to all the nerds who made these formats possible, I am also thankful.


I cannot begin to really say how thankful I am to Thumper. His fodder, friendship, political mindedness, bisexual bunny tongue, metal genitals, help desk support, mind, and, well, his ass are absolutely engrained deep into almost every 2015 memory that has to do with kink and a great deal that do not. He’s taught me more about relationships, friendships, and technology and, even though it was a bit harder on him than any of us expected, I am thankful for it all and suspect I will be saying a version of this next year plus or minus a few words.


Need I really say why I am thankful for this?

That’s enough for me to eat my turkey without guilt of not following Rule 22k (the kinky one). Have a great holiday and for those of you who celebrate, happy black Friday as well.

Broken Axel

We’ve talked many times about Axel and I having to adjust when I get back from a week on the road, especially in light that when I am gone we now have some very salacious text exchanges and conversations about moving things forward more and more and, in many ways. If, in reality, nothing else happens physically because we each have schedules that are non-traditional, to say the least, those texts and conversations get our minds and genitals in the right place for when we can physically have the time and when all the stars align to create some really wonderful BDSMish sex.

However, this time, after a few days home I am feeling something very familiar, but very odd in terms of a D/s dynamic, which is that I have moved into a very naturally submissive mode without feeling the slightest bit kinky. Yes, my private parts are still locked in titanium, but I have moved more into a caregiver mode and I suspect it’s where I am going to stay for at least the next six to eight months both for physical reasons on his part and mental reasons on both of our parts.

I say this because, as I have mentioned before, Axel is broken right now and I am in charge, at least in my own head, of always keeping a roll of duct tape within reach to try my best to patch him when possible.

For those not familiar, Axel had a modified version of a hip replacement three years ago when we were both 41 years old. He had been an athlete most of his life, specifically baseball, and one of his hips simply wore out too early. He does not have the kind you see all the late night commercials about regarding class action lawsuits and we were fully aware that one in one million people (or something similar) can develop an allergy to it within a few years, but we cast that aside as nothing showed up at all, until it did, and when it did, it showed up with a vengeance.

Because of the time it takes to build a custom full replacement that will be able to go in where the other one was and fill a portion of the thigh bone they removed, the earliest time he could have it replaced would have been December 23rd and, for no other reason than I worried about the lack of available care in the days that followed due to the holidays  (and, well, who wants to meet their out of pocket deductible four days before it expires) he chose early January and an 11 hour surgery is already scheduled.

So, ALL that to say that when I got back from down under the other night, I was taken aback by how fast the downhill roll has gone as he just looks miserable. Part of the issue is the allergy creates a higher level of cobalt in the blood, which somehow messes with the thyroid, combined with retention of fluid and, well, he’s about 40 pounds heavier than he was six months ago and that is messing with his mind as much as the pain, which is constant and steady but, luckily, chemically managed to avoid the spikes, but, as he says, “it’s like having a kicking you in the balls once an hour, ever hour”.

We had sex the night I returned and good sex at that, but while I would typically say it was an honor that someone I had just fucked walked funny for a few days, this time is was not humorous at all and I still feel guilty (okay, maybe making him descend from the trapeze into the sling was a bad idea in retrospect). So, maybe the locked dick is good for other reasons now too? As a discipline plus, this morning I brought up the idea of a cane and, well, I might get caned tonight, because he did not like that at all. So there’s that :).

I say all this to say that I just ponder if the “mental training” I have allowed myself to be submissive to him over the last few years is kicking in more and more or of it’s just the love and respect that comes with being in love with someone and not liking watching what they have to go through. Perhaps it’s a combination of both because I can certainly see how one would enhance the other, so maybe over the next six months I will learn how to balance that or use one to play up the other. Three years ago, I was a perfect caregiver, but I absolutely know I did that only by need and less about desire, if that makes sense.

So, I doubt there is going to be any more great wild sex or bondage games or BDSM for awhile, so I will just have to get my submissive jollies by taking care of him, which, I am actually honored to be able to do, though I think the came with the marriage contract and not the chaste one.

Actually, I was going to end this at the above, but it brought up a question that Ferns and I discussed last week AFTER SHE KISSED ME (we can’t let that be forgotten) about a few submissive types (specifically an Australian female sub she and I both follow, but she doesn’t follow us)  who turn their submissiveness into “all about them” in the sense of the  “my Dom would not be able to function without me” area and as I went to close this I had to wonder if I had just done that. But, what I have done, in my head, I think, is have found/or am finding a way to get my submissive jollies while making the best out of a situation beyond both our controls. Maybe.

Homecoming times four

Home. I am finally home. My body is in a bit of a rebellion against me because Friday, in Sydney, it was 108F and now, Sunday morning, I am waking up at home to a full frost and a temperature of 27F. It’s crazy in that respect and also because last week where I live was ravaged with storms and the streets to the left, right, and behind my house look like Mother Nature threw a tantrum and there are still giant oak trees laying across roads and homes. Axel was without power for almost three days here and until about 3am this morning there was a nice roar of saws and the beeps of trucks backing up until about 5am as the power crew worked to get power to the streets around me.

Anyway, over the years, Axel and I have adapted to a homecoming routine that is probably exactly what most people would think it is not. It’s not a very lovey, touchy routine because my attention is almost always immediately given to Stella as she squeaks, cries, and sings me a song when I have been gone a few days or more and, as much as I love my husband, there is no better greeting than this. But, with Axel, we hold off on the touchy feely, the immediate 100 percent time together, because we have each learned that not only does it take me a bit to transition back into being at home, it also takes him a couple of hours to adjust to me being there as well since I come in like a tornado at times.

So, I got home, we went to dinner, I showered the airplane filth off of me, and, from separate ends of our giant sectional sofa we watched the last few episodes of Agents of Shield and each wondered how Blair Underwood can still have the same body he had on LA Law while easily now twenty something years later. We went to bed around 10:45 and as Stella settled under the covers between us, there was some polite touching until I fell asleep, which took maybe, many 47.2 seconds.

That lasted until almost 2 when I woke up and realized that we had been holding hands as we slept, which I loved, and, before I knew it, Stella was relocated to the chair with the warm fluffy blanket and I was the one below the covers waking Axel up with what I like to call the perverted 2am blowjob (patent pending) which led to what, in my head, at least, was our own little backwards version of Thumper’s sex and denial (while this is not the best link describing it, for those new to this, here is a nifty little link where Thump talks about not having any say so in the use of his penis)

I say that because at that hour, I was just just a big penis to him and I would orgasm for his amusement only if and when he decided if he wanted me to because, at that moment, it was clear that, although I may have started it, this was his rodeo. Said rodeo was further evidenced as he  wanted to be on top, so he pinned my arms down above my head (something I amuse him with because I am way stronger) and, to the rhythm of the hammers of the utility crew outside, he proceeded to climb up on me like I was Sea Biscuit and proceeded to fuck himself while I essentially just watched and felt myself being used. Now, during this, he asked me of I wanted to come and I said that it was up to him, since, well, that’s how we apparently roll things these days. Of course, as you know, for him, it’s not about the denial but the control, so he said I could as long as I knew that I would have to also come this morning, this afternoon, and if the jet lag doesn’t kick in, again tonight after we see the Scotts before it’s time for the Axel to reappear (after my scheduled massage tomorrow morning) (not traveling this week). I was immediately turned on and, of course, well, let’s just say it didn’t take too long for me to decide.

Now, time to hit the Tumblr.



Random Axel Inspection

Good Saturday morning to you again as I am now in Los Angeles after flying 13.5 hours and then landing four hours before I took off. The whole time zone thing is always a mind fuck to me in general, but when you go across the international dateline, it’s just so bizarre.

So, as I was leaving Australia, I had to go through immigration, customs and then their version of the TSA which, if you fly domestic is like the US in 1975, but international they put you through a pretty good screening. Because of this and just the general lack of real comfort in a premium economy seat for that long, I left the Axel in it’s little kit inside my carryon and thought nothing about it as it’s passed through the TSA many times. However, this time, I was not so lucky as my bag was pulled to the side to be searched. This happens occasionally because I carry a great deal of electronics and cables, so I was not worried and, in this case, my portable NEAT scanner was the thing they actually were looking at. However, as has happened to me once before there when I left a pair of tweezers in my bag, the Aussie gentleman who was charged with going through my bag literally unzipped it and dumped the entire contents into one of those plastic trays. As my type A organized self screamed in my head, I watched him go item by item looking in my little zipped cases for cords, pens, etc. I soon realized what was next and he picked up the little blue bag with the Axel in it, unzipped it and started just staring. He did not say anything to me, but took the bag as is, put it in another tray and then ran it back through the scanner. As he was doing this he was chatting with another bloke who brought it back to me, zipped up the bag, and then looked at me with a look that I could not tell if it was judgment, curiosity, or “hello fellow pervert”. At that point they released me to begin repacking my bag and he then asked me, for his form, what I called that “contraption”. I told him I call it Axel and that it’s technically body jewelry that works with a piercing. He smiled and I went on my way through the giant duty free mall they have before the gates. There was no drama, but I do have to wonder what his conversation was later at home.

So, the point of this is not to say they were wrong, or to say that the Axel is what set it off, because it really was the way my scanner was positioned in the bag. However any of us who carry anything unusual in our carry ons are subject to search and I had always wondered how my actual reaction would be, assuming that I would have melted into a big goo of embarrassment or shame. But, I didn’t. In fact, perhaps it was that I was too pissed about having my whole bag dumped and dissected, but I just simply didn’t care and wasn’t ashamed and truly only worried that he might drop the key out of the bag.

About two hours later when I got on the plane I started laughing about this because I reckon it is simply one more stage of self acceptance and, well, yay me.


Submissive Learnings

Hello and good Saturday morning from Sydney where I am wrapping up my twelve days here in grand style. In fact, holiday with Axel here aside, this trip was my absolute favorite of the 17 or 18 trips I have taken here over the last two years. That said, it’s also the saddest because my job is to come in, find out what is wrong, tear apart a team to fix it, design a new program for success, and finally hire and train the right people to take it forward and all of those things have happened here thus eliminating their need for my brilliance. Will I come back on this job, maybe or maybe not. Like everything else in life, it’s going to depend on the followup I do. However, having been all over the globe, I feel I can speak this with some authority, and say that Australia in general and Sydney in specific is my happy place. I find beauty, peace, and an energy here in ways I never experience anywhere else in the world.

So, the last eleven days down under have been very nice (yet I am still dying to get home). Work was hard but actually immediately fulfilling, which was a  surprise because I expected just the opposite, and through the time this trip, I was lucky enough to spend the day with the wickedly amazing woman named Ferns, spent significant time FaceTiming with Kiwi since we are only two hours apart versus our standard 19, met a blog reading slave earlier in the week (who deserves his own post soon) after he reached out to say we where in the same city and that he liked the blog, and met a Master who I have talked to via recon for years and he, in turn, wanted me to meet his boy to discuss chastity, which I did yesterday. We arranged a lunch meeting, which turned into a very unexpected afternoon and evening that has significantly changed my viewpoint moving forward. And, almost as importantly, the events of the past week have really changed my thoughts even going backwards because I learned more about myself and my switch side (a post to come one day). I could honestly hear some of the sub things I was learning about subs who identify as that completely coming out of Thumper’s mouth, and all those things, combined, gave me a feeling of renewed excitement for what occurred in the past, a much deeper understanding of the current state of affairs, and solidified with me that there indeed can be a bright future as I have now had role models who, when giving their history when learning and growing as a kinky person, told tales very similar to some of the stuff Thump and I have kicked around 72.7 different ways as we tried to understand our own mental challenges. However, this is not about that, so let’s discuss the couple yesterday in more detail.

In true Duality fashion, I am going to give them the pseudonyms of Wolf and pup, because it’s fitting in a few ways when you see the hairy Sir contrasted by the smooth sub. Wolf is in his forties, in great shape, and is a beautiful man inside and out. He’s European, has a strong accent, and just projects dominance in the room, to the point that I wanted to immediately remove my clothes when walking into his home. His slave, is in his 30’s, very white collar professional by day, highly educated, and is both cute and incredibly attractive, as often those two don’t go together even when one thinks they should. They have been together a few years and met under a pretense of Sir/boy, but as their relationship has grown to that of true love and an equal partnership, they have evolved the Master/slave life to fit within the realms of partner when needed, slave when needed, and a, though close, never fully equal dynamic within their household.

Since we had discussed chastity all through lunch and how he thought he would react, I offered to bring the Axel to him to try on so he could get a feel and that is what I did (I was out of it already for the flight today). He met me at the train station and we walked to their house and immediately walked in to find the Wolf standing there naked as we had surprised him on his way to the shower (it was miserably hot in Sydney yesterday 45c/108f). That was rather delightful for me, and I know he was not even embarrassed by that, but as we talked, I watched pup go about getting his work stuff off, putting his collar on, and then he went naked from that point forward as that is the rule of their house, even when in not full Master/slave mode. As we talked, Wolf and I sat on the couch and pup sat on the floor somewhat nuzzling his Master, but also completely owning his own space down there as if it was the most natural of places to be.

I think in my mind I always thought in those situations the slave would turn into a droid like creature, but he didn’t. He stayed the same man who I enjoyed a conversation with at lunch but now he just happened to be naked with a chain locked around his neck sitting on the floor and he held just a regular conversation about everything with Wolf, although he used a great deal more respect than I would typically see a couple have for each other, if that makes sense. While it was very clear who owns who, it was not clear who loves who more, and that was something my mind needed to see to process when thinking about Dom/sub relationships.

Now, because he was a tad excited (I know, I know, seeing me does that to people sometimes – ha), he had an erection made of steel, so we tried hard to get that to go down as I described what I imagined dead puppies might look like on a beach while his grandmother frolicked with them while naked. That worked just enough to get the ring and the cuff on, and after a few more stories about grandmother blow jobs and kittens forever stuck in trees, he was soft enough that Wolf, with a bit of help from me, was able to get the Axel locked on him.

When it was there, he was, dare a say, in heaven. I so much enjoyed looking at him as he both fought the fact that he now owned this fantasy while balancing it against the fact that he had likely just sealed his fate as a locked boy for many years to come (which he deserves as he had just had an unauthorized self pleasure session early the prior morning). While he processed those feelings, I processed how proud I was to be able to help someone else in that way Thumper had helped me, as well as the fact that Axel would so love to know it might lead to another boy locked down long term. The second thought that struck me was how unbelievably beautiful it is on a body since that is a vantage point I never get to see. Granted, pup has a body that puts mine to a huge amount of shame, but nonetheless, I think I have to look pretty good in it too.

We bonded for life with that moment which, in actuality, translates to the fact we all became Facebook friends, but, again, watching them together just made my whole day. Also, I am not going to lie and say I wish Axel had not been asleep at home so I could have called and gotten permission to join the boy, but, there is always the next trip for those things and I think my mind needed this more so than anything else. This morning, Axel was excited to hear this story and left me wondering as he said, “let’s put some of that in practice when you get back”

Finally, to slave (subgetsowned), slave (pup), Master (Wolf), and Ferns (Australian Girlfriend):

THANK YOU for such a great week and for all of the education you provided me, most likely without knowing you were doing it. I feel more “healed” than I have in a long while and told Thumper that this morning when we talked for a bit about this and that and my desire to find a really strong group of regular, yet kinky as fuck “just guy” friends. I think that made him happy as well, and it makes me just feel good about whatever the future holds.

P.S. – If anyone wants to apply for that kinky club, just let me know (yes, Kiwi, you are already in)