This weekend I will bury my father. 

This is not said for sympathy or any reaction other than what it is, but it has brought up so many questions to me about defining being a man, who a man is, what is the right role, or do any of those things matter at all? It’s an odd reaction for someone over 50, but in some ways, for the first time, I feel like my own “manhood” needs to stand more than ever because I am now the one representing the legacy of the man who made and shaped me. I am now looking back at actions, conversations, and thoughts of my past to see if any merit a corrigendum, but I suspect that will really not have to be entered into my brain either. And that is a good thing in that no regrets type place.

For me, on the dom side of my switch-ness, I have been surprised at how my sexual thoughts have staged through the periods of grief. With my boy, I have found my dominance, or at least my feeling about it, has grown stronger. I feel more protective, more in charge and even more ready to be engaged in his daily life. 

For my sub side of the switch-ness, I am craving control more than ever. It’s a feeling of that need to please someone, that need to be structured, that need to worry about crossing a line. If I didn’t have these feelings for most of my life in addition to the dom ones, I would swear this would just be called Daddy-issues or be relegated to some corner of a grieving mind, but deep down I know it is more than that. I think.

It is true that there is some of that in grief and in the fact that I no longer need “approval” for things that I actually didn’t need his approval on anyway – at least in the last 30 years. But, whenever it was time to buy a car, hire a repair person, make a life decision, I always asked – even when his mind wasn’t there any longer, I still asked, that’s what I did. That, I will miss but am careful not to confuse these things with the feelings of submission.

The one constant in these feelings is, oddly, the normalcy of domination and submission and the kinky play in general that is now in my mind. In fact, these feelings are positively pellucid in their clarity versus a few years ago and that makes me quite happy. As in all my other thoughts, none of these “what is a man” thoughts place a weaker man in a submissive spot, something I agree to disagree on with a few friends. This isn’t about that really. For me, this is just one new level of adulthood that didn’t arrive until after middle age. 

Go figure.

Note from Drew: Below is a second post from boy Jack explaining more about his side of submission.

Worth Owning

Total submission has been a major erection inducing kink of mine for quite some time. At least some version of it. The problem with that is I always envisioned there would be another man tonguing my boots or legs or whatever it was I wanted licked at the moment. If you’ve followed my Twitter (@southernswitch1), you probably noticed that my page title now indicates that I’m owned – though that’s just the equivalent of making it Facebook official since I have been owned for quite a while now. In fact, it almost instant when I met my Sir – though I may not have realized it at the time.

So what has made me so comfortable with being owned, every part of me?  

Simply put: I am a better man.

Though it really isn’t a simple answer or necessarily one that would make sense to anybody else. The quick answer it has made me better in all parts of my life. I’ll spare you the boring details, but I had pretty much  resigned myself to a lonely single dad, past the age of prime. Definitely past the age of continuing to explore some of my kink interests.  Years of second guessing myself and trying to make up for being who I am had brought me to one boring, dull, very “content” life.  I had a great life, it was just missing something more. The stars aligned or some universal force put Drew and Axel in my life.

So here I am, successful at my job, and by all accounts of the street view on Google maps doing just fine. But, now, now I am a different man – mentally, physically, emotionally. I had enough years of self degradation under my belt. I didn’t need a Master to do that for me. In fact, I would not thrive on that as a slave. If you need to degrade somebody, I’m not your man. I can do that on my own. I have a Master who has never once degraded me or tried to do such. That is very different from being put in my place or a punishment delivered when needed. Very different from being an object, I’d argue. Even an object has a purpose, worth, value. As my submission has grown deeper, I’ve come to understand that I, an owned slave, have purpose, worth, and value. 

So again, why am I so comfortable being owned?  It is simple. I’m worth owning.

Perfect by no means, but worthy of it none the less. I have a Master and a Daddy who remind me every day that I’m worth owning. It may not be in word always (or words that others would recognize as such), but it often is shown in deed and time. Those things sometimes include guidance about something going on in life or at work. Sometimes that guidance comes in the form of spanking or time spent bound on the dining room table, time encased in rubber, restricted in the sleep sack, locked in my collar, or serving as an object, for example. Yes it is service to my Master and Daddy. It is also a time for me to reflect. Other times my worth is validated by talking with my Master or Daddy about decisions I need to make. Not always given a direct do this or do that, but I’m guided through questions and scenarios that help me arrive at my own decisions.  While I may be an owned, I’m also cared for. In short being owned has resulted in my betterment and those closest to me. I’m proud to be owned. I’m not ashamed of it. I’ve grown because of it. Because of that support and resulting growth, I’m in a better position to fully submit to total ownership.  So I’m worthy of being owned and worthy of submission to a very worthy Master and an equally worthy Daddy. 

If you have read the previous post by jack, you will have seen a lot of truth about our relationship from his eyes. I was so incredibly proud of him when he showed me that and I immediately posted it before it could allow him to second guess things or edit and edit and edit again.

He was very honest and, if you follow our tweets, all are genuine and reflect the feelings we have between the three of us. However, something I said from the very beginning is that we have to always tell the reality and, while we are doing just that, I believe we are dangerously close to painting this as a picture perfect “how to start a kinky triad with sunshine and lollipops” and I want to make sure we have an equal showing to avoid the the type thing as in all social media where I would show you the amazing picture of me in front of something amazing, but did not show you the 4 canceled flights, the last minute window seat, or the $123 12 block cab ride to get there. It’s about the impression at those times and I want to make sure that we show that this is, indeed, a process and, in many ways, like building a puzzle.

So, here is more of the story.

2020 about broke Axel and me. Not us as a couple, but just as people. As I have mentioned we each lost parents and now each of us have the second parent at the end of life. We lost friends and family, both of our jobs changed drastically (fyi -he’s back to mostly normal, I’m still grounded) – though we were both able to save things with not too much loss , we gained two puppies, we gained pounds, and, unspoken of on here, I gained seven (pretty cool) scars and 15 months in a boot from three surgeries for my broken foot/ankle and two surgeries on and in my throat for some breathing difficulty I was having because of a windpipe issue. Even without Covid, it was a hell of a fucked up year.

However, smack in the middle of that we met jack. You know all about Jack by now, and, while it really did “just work”, we have put a fucking LOT of time into making it “just work” that we don’t really discuss here for some reason. I mean we have established the whole he’s my number two and I am his number two and we are absolutely okay with that. Those things fell into place rather smoothly. He has been an amazing addition to our family, and now even more so the extended family members like Jeep and Steelwerks, as I am watching budding friendships taking place there which makes me super happy too.

What we have not talked about are the times we have all gotten in each other’s way, the times one of us forgot to communicate something to the other leading to hurt feelings, the times when a neighbor or friend stops by and wonders who is this guy who is always at your house who we offer no explanation for, the times when his duty as a Dad fucks with his mind which usually happens on the day’s my job or year is NOT fucking with mine, etc, etc, etc.

We also had to establish some rules and boundaries. Jack is my boy, my slave, my whatever it is I want him to be that day. There is no confusion on that. With Axel, he is in a daddy role with jack and, while he knows what I do to him, knows why is ass is beaten or bruised, or knows that jack spent the day attached to a point under my desk for my comfort and not his, he still doesn’t really THINK that way. For Axel, jack is a submissive who he likes to use to have his dick sucked. or to rub his shoulders, etc. In addition, the Daddy side of Ax also always wants to make jack comfortable. These two differences in our treatment of jack, in my mind, make it more hot, but rules have to be made and, in these cases, I have had to overrule Axel which is not something I would like to do. If Axel had his way, jack would unlock more. That is absolutely not happening and we had to establish that too.

One example of this was a day a few months ago when the boy had pissed me off about something (minor as I don’t remember what) and I was going to lay into his ass later when I finished what I was working on work wise. Jack knew it too. When I was done I came out of my office and jack and Ax were nowhere to be found. Channeling my inner Nancy Drew, I followed the distinctive clues up the stairs and discovered Ax had jack on the massage table and was giving him a full massage. I was neither mad or hurt, but had some feeling in between, because in that case boy made one parent mad while the other comforted him. How was I going to make my point about whatever it was while he was all relaxed and oily? I was more upset with Axel because he knew my plans for jack but didn’t think about the fact one awaiting punishment doesn’t need pleasure. We talked. We were fine. It was a growing step.

Another time jack and I were upstairs having really good sex – something that is FULLY endorsed by Axel – when suddenly the alarm chime on the garage door chimed and, I’ll be damned, Axel came home early without telling us. I felt like I was in one of those Desperate Housewives shows were I was throwing clothes at the boy, was getting dressed, and was getting ready to make him jump out the second story window when I realized that it was okay. It was fine. Axel did not come upstairs but we didn’t finish either and I think we all went to dinner without making any eye contact. There was nothing to be ashamed of, but it felt like there SHOULD BE, so that is a weird adjustment to factor in. It’s happened in reverse too and while it’s sort of an unintentional cuckholding, it does feel weird letting them finish while I load the dishwasher. Yes, we each could have joined, but talk about inviting yourself to the party already in progress. While my mother never used this particular situation as an example, I do believe she would have been appalled.

So, I have tons more stories and examples and every single one of them was worth it to get to have what I have but I will not go through them now. The point I wanted to make on this was to be who you are, create a relationship that reflects on that, but don’t expect it to be easy.

This is a continuing story and I expect to have jack write more as well. Stay tuned.

Note from Drew: The following is a guest post by my boy, jack. I haven’t written a ton about the relationship for multiple reasons, but asked jack to write about how he came to be owned by me and my husband and what that means to him. So, meet jack.

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How one goes from “Thanks for the cruise” to being completely owned is something I’ve pondered from time to time. I have a high stress job and real life responsibilities. Couple that with a tightly wound and often controlling personality when it comes to my responsibilities at work and my family, I never truly found myself looking to be owned. Sure, I had dabbled in both Dom and sub roles, enjoying both.  I liked both the feeling of total control and the lack thereof. 

Fast forward six months into a global pandemic and I was isolated, just like everyone else on the planet. My covid bubble consisted of those I worked with and my pre-teen child. The few kink connections I had were long distance and non-physical. After working the front lines in a triage tent in the height of the pandemic, the last thing I was looking for was to meet someone. A conversation online with a screen name “DualDrew” that started with “Thanks for the cruise” progressed to a date with sweet potato fries followed bymaking out while looking at the most amazing titanium clad cock I had ever seen.  Then I met his husband, Axel.

I knew I had found something amazing. I just didn’t know the extent of amazing at the time.

Being a pervert by nature (I use that term with love), I quickly connected Drew who now owns me, every fucking part of me. Likewise the connection with Axel, who watches over us both, was growing just as strong and intense. The appeal of bondage and submission has always been strong. The trust needed to allow someone to totally own me came so easily, and in contrast to anything before. For someone who doesn’t easily trust anyone, I’m a little amazed at how, just a few months later, I was nearly in tears to be locked with a Steelwerks lock/collar around my neck telling the world I am owned. Also of note, inscribed on the inside is probably the sweetest fucking name anybody has ever called me. I like knowing it is there behind the cover of the lock. As far as I know, my Master, my Daddy (Axel) and the genius that is Steelwerks are the only ones who have laid eyes on this inscription.  Looking back at things, I wasn’t ever expecting to be owned. It wasn’t because it had never crossed my mind. I never expected to find the right person that could bring that out of me. Laughingly, I have thought on occasion that I was accidentally owned, but no part of me believes it was an accident. 

So what does being owned look like and feel like for me?  It goes something like this… We both shared our big kinks (and our deep dark kinks) with each other.  No surprise that they lined up pretty damned spot on. I had seen these guys with their cocks locked in various cages, but I never really craved it for myself. That is until I saw that beautiful shiny titanium encasing the cock of a man I never knew would mean so much to me. After some discussion, I bought a decent “let’s give this a try” device. I was hooked quicker than I’d like to admit. I loved showing that my dick was locked as instructed. After some time in that cage and discussion about getting my dick pierced for a PA locking cage from Steelwerks, we were on a trip getting my dick pierced. 

As quickly as my healing titanium impaled dick would allow, I had gauged my piercing up to the 2 gauge that would allow for my cock to be locked in a custom fitted titanium work of art. I dipped into my savings account and in a few weeks, my new metal dick soon arrived much to the pleasure of my Sir.

If you’ve seen my Twitter posts, you know I’m a bit of a sap. I digress….the cage and piercing are just an objective display of something so much more meaningful than metal. It represents a trust I have with Drew and Axel.  It represents to me an acceptance of me that I never thought I’d find anywhere else. I may be an owned fucker, but I’m cared for in ways that nobody else has ever cared for me…see I’m a sap, guilty as charged. 

So what does it feel like to me?  Well, I belong to a sadist of sorts..a warm, reddened, bruised and plugged ass are often the visible results of that – almost every day. Mentally, these acts that result in such visible evidence provide a release for us all. Specifically, for me, it lets me let go of all my stressors in life and connect with another pervert on a level that I never thought possible. What it also means is that I don’t have to face anything alone. Changes in jobs responsibilities, and parenting often have left me in quite an anxious state. In what most would call my “normal” (I hate that word) life, most of my stress and anxiety comes from a lack of control or perceived lack of control. However, I’ve learned that through my submission I don’t have to worry about that lack of control. I’ve learned to use that to decrease my stress and anxiety. I’ve learned to channel that sub space to make that part of my life that is visible to the boring world less stressful and less a source of distraction. 

I am very goal driven. I have probably too many degrees. Too many trips to the physical therapist because I was driven to train for marathons despite increasing pain. Why is that pertinent?  Well a slave isn’t just some useless worthless being. I’m useful, I’m driven. Ask my Master. I do enjoy a task that requires me to work towards a goal. Nothing worth doing or having ever comes easily, is a saying that I either picked up or made up over the years. The same applies here. Currently working on some physical goals that not only make me happy, but my Master and Daddy, as well. 

So what about that dom side of me?  Well…it is less of a part of me than it has ever been. Is it still there?  Of course. Does it get attention?  Of course. I do have the best Master. I’m alpha to one very eager slave. His slave hole has been outsourced to me. Thank you, Sir. You know my needs and take care of them all. 

There is so much more that I could talk about forever. This is just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. I have found my true kink family. Family, that at times might take an organizational chart to describe to some. Through my submission I have found more than just a titanium impaled and encased dick. I have found acceptance and family. I have been the recipient of being cared for that I didn’t know I was either capable of receiving or deserving to receive. Likewise I could only hope that my Master and Daddy feel that I give the same to them. It’s a big part of what makes this kinky fucker tick. 

I will post a full update on the trials and tribulations of switch life with a husband and boy soon, but right now I want to focus on the, or mine, mechanics of the chastity cage.

As you know, I am a Steelwerks Extreme groupie. I know they are not for everyone for a variety of reasons, but they are something I chose to invest in a few years ago and have absolutely zero regrets. I have two cages from them, the Crucible and the Tiffany and they are both great. Me being me, I specifically liked one thing about one and another thing about the other so, luckily, I just got them combined.

I was happy that my Tiffany came with one of the first new base rings that SW is now making that has an exposed flange on top allowing for multiple items to be added or interchanged. When I say this, I envision it being like an erector set, legos, or similar where you can add, take away, etc, etc. I think they really mean it so that guys can use different cages without having to take off the ring for the quick fly chastity change, the mid week three-minute deep clean, or even for things like metal detectors (because a ring around a set of balls is likely not really anything that would cause attention nor is it really that embarrassing should you get searched.) For me, I liked the idea of it making travel much easier (you know, assuming if I ever travel again) and that mid-week cleaning thing will be incredible.

I said I think that is the intention with the interchangeable base ring, but the sadist in me likes the idea of screwed on ball stretchers, wands, or, even my idea to torment my boy by having some locked on bells that I can use to torment my boy when he walks or moves until I give him his key back.

Anyway, I digressed there, what does this mean?

It means I sent my Crucible back to have a matching flange added to the top so I can wear it now as a traditional cage with the titanium shaped penis OR I can wear it just as it was meant to be attached by the PA with no ring or cage. I love the “freeballing” feel of no ring, but it’s harder to hide when your metal dick slinks down your leg, so at times pulling tight is just what is needed.

There are a few pics on Twitter and I am happy to send if you’d like – but due to all the recent crackdowns on NSFW things I am just trying to keep it off of WordPress.

Stay tuned, part two coming soon.

I have always allowed myself to believe in just a little bit of fiction until it is proven otherwise. It’s not something that breaks my heart when a story is proven untrue, but I never look at things in the same way because being the type A fellow I am, I tend to then start planning and analyzing and thinking of all the things that are not mentioned.

An example of this was Santa Clause, I remember being 8 or 9 and realizing the truth about that fat man and his abilities to truly go around the world and the fact that we didn’t have a chimney and lived in the South where there was no snow for the sleigh. My mother told me quickly when I asked, but I think I spent the next 15 years thinking about all the practical things in the lies we made kids believe.

That said, I do the same thing with television and movies. I LOVE TV. Always have. I know things are made up and that fires are not really put out in 15 minutes so that the steamy fire people can go back to the house to fuck in the common shower as if nobody else was dirty. But, when I have the chance to prove something, I do it.

A few years ago when Axel had one of his post injury surgeries, he was in the hospital four nights and, at the time, I needed to stay with him at least the first two nights. Having watched a lot of Gray’s Anatomy, I was pretty excited. I thought we would have hours with the nice, hot doctors who would always be in our rooms in teams of two discussing his new parts, but sadly, I am not sure we saw anyone an hour total in four days. Also, I couldn’t sleep at night so I would wander and watch the nurses stations to try to decide which of the hot nurses and even hotter interns were fucking in the supply closet. Sadly, what I discovered was a bunch of overworked, stressed, tired people just counting the hours until they could go home. I mean, fuck, the people on TV never go home and, get this, nobody was hot. Not a single one. Apparently hot people need to sleep at night. I was devastated.

Anyway, my last hope was to own a boy because, according to all the porn I have seen and read, having a naked, collared servant around to do everything AND provide me constant sexual gratification was exactly what it was like. So, now that I have the owned boy, guess what? Yup, you guess it, he doesn’t do windows while also sucking my dick. I mean, that’s how it was supposed to work, right? I was laughing about this yesterday because he and I spent about 7 hours together and I didn’t see him naked but once during his maintenance spanking. We had things to do and, what I love about him, is he wants to do all the home improvement projects I love that Axel hates, so we spent all day at two Lowes, one Home Depot, Target, Kroger, and two more tile stores gathering things for upcoming projects. I mean, I can make him do them, but it is more fun when he does it with me both as a feeling of service and helpfulness.

I see the boy at least three days a week and, as the relationship has deepened, the sexual acts have waned a bit, but the intensity of the time together continues to increase – both with me and Axel. Don’t get me wrong, I still own his dick, he is still in second place in my life, I abuse him every time I can, and more, however we can’t live like a constant BDSMLR feed, even as much as one might want to (or do they?).

No real lessons or stories here aside from just a post to say hello. As the world goes, at noon on the 20th I realized I breathed and the world felt hopeful, for the first time in four years. COVID 19 has been and continues to be cruel and as someone who has felt tremendous losses due to it I fight being bitter and angry. The good news is the vaccine will get everywhere soon. As a first responder, the boy has had both doses, I have had the first dose and have the second in two more weeks, and Axel gets his first shot tomorrow (where we live is 65+ or 18+ with co-factors and, the sad thing is, only 42% of the eligible first round took it so there were extra). To those who may be afraid of it, don’t be. My arm was sore and two Advil fixed that right up.

There is hope and it is coming.

I have never thought much about the number two (2). It’s not some fancy number like seven (7) or a cocky number like three (3). It’s just the number two (2), always right there looking at number one (1), but never quite bold enough to overtake the top spot. Poor two, it’s the the numerology version of “always a bridesmaid.”

I promise the two thing will have a direct correlation in a few minutes, but right now, the thing with Jack is just going amazingly well. Axel and I both feel we met and are falling in love with our unicorn, though the relationship dynamic between Axel and Jack is quite different than what I have with Jack – as he and I have an intensity that fuels the BDSM aspects between us. When I am with Jack and when Axel, a naturally born muggle, is home, he may watch, may provide aftercare, or may just go to Target. It’s not in any way because he’s angry, has hurt feelings or anything like any of that, but he did tell me that there is a bit of an elephant in the room sometimes because he knows Jack will never look at him the way he does me as we have a rule about eye contact such as, when he is paddled while on his back with his legs up (the boy is bendy), he is not allowed to break eye contact with me, nor is he allowed to close his eyes if the pain hurts. He simply must adjust and after about 400 hits (I’m kidding, 390 really) the boys ass is glowing but that eye contact can get incredibly, deeply amazing. Axel LOVES that we have this, but doesn’t always want to watch it – mostly because he has things to do.

Overall, this new triad thing is good. It is going to work. It just will. That said, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t want to examine when exactly it was that made this bond.

I wanted to know why. I wanted to know what I did, or what we did, or if the drive to attraction was one of the following: sex, BDSM, looks, friendship, companionship, or what. Jack and I talked about this earlier this week and, my answer started forming. While it turns out that what hooked him was indeed all of those things listed above, but one more aspect neither of us expected which was actually, being in second place. I think I have mentioned that he is a single dad with full custody of a ten year old who is going on 50. As you know, I don’t have kids. In fact, I have never been around them much as nobody in my family has them either. But, I have seen them on planes and in Sky Clubs and can often see that they, apparently, do provide some joy and love in their parents’ lives. Go figure.

After I claimed him, the boy let me know that he had had some really bad experiences coming out as a, umm, <looks both ways> <whispers>, parent . He said men on dates were always polite but would quickly have a work emergency, something with their grandmother, or needed to wash their hair immediately that night. Jack chalked it up to men being jackasses, but I think he did have it in the back of his head that he was not going to wait until colleges start calling the kid and/or that meeting that guy was just not going to happen. He said he felt okay with that, but something I said to him hooked him fast.

Of course I asked and what hooked him is something I said to him within the first week about how I was managing this with Axel and how I knew it would be fine between all of us because the same rule continued to apply – the rule of second place.

See, second place is not bad at all, but it is a reality. For Jack, I told him that <insert child’s name here> would always, always be his number one priority. Always. I told him I would be his number two and that I know and understand I will never rise above that. I gave him blanket permission to cancel time with me for the kid at any time and made him a promise that, if left alone, he would always have his Apple Watch or is iPhone next to him so he could verbally talk to Siri to gain access to whatever he may need or to let me know that practice ended early and we need to start unlocking the 19 locks I have on him, whatever.

This conversation was also followed by an opposite one in which I made it super clear to him that he would also always just be my number two in return, because Axel always will fill the number one role. I said this to him as I was worried that dating a couple would make him feel less full, or less future driven and, well, less like a number one – a role he needs to eventually fill for some lucky, lucky man. I encouraged (and continue to) him to date and to look, but he respectfully and delightedly declined because, apparently, he doesn’t have an issue with being number two either for me, or Axel.

After this I am working on not questioning anything as, well, why. Number two is a perfectly solid spot on which to be standing,

Pandemic Log – Day 773, Subject: Rope Bondage, Victim: Boy Jack

In addition to just having won the lottery in meeting my boy this year, Axel and I are very lucky that we have been able to manage training him in this weird COVID world. I rarely leave the house anymore and Axel, who does now go to his office daily, only sees clients virtually, so he’s pretty much alone too. Jack, who is professionally covered in PPE and is tested a few times a week, also lives a pretty quiet life right now, so we all feel safe in how we have built our bubble and make sure we see each other 2-3 times per week.

In scheduling time together, Saturday mornings have become a pretty standard thing as his kids have things to do, Axel usually works, and I am in a slower paced mood as well. Yesterday was no exception to that and we had the best damn day which started out with me placing him in rope bondage on my dining room table.

I have always loved the idea of rope bondage but was intimidated by it because so many people are so good at it, the time it takes to make it happen, and worse, the time it takes to finish. But, it is an interest of the boy’s so I want to do it and get better as I need to grow just as much as he does. He has plenty of appropriate rope and has left a bagful here, so a week ago we tried a chair and yesterday I decided I wanted to torment him a big so we went with a nice spread eagle pose on the heavy, very sturdy dining room table a built a few years ago. I have to say, I didn’t do too badly. I turned on the heat, had him strip, crawl up on the table and I soon began my planned assault on him. As I got his arms tied to each corner I considered tying him ankles the same way so his ass would be up and ready for me to crawl on the table to fuck him right then and there, but, at the same time, I glanced to my right and realized my mother’s ashes are in a box on my mantel and had to immediately stop and go find something suitable to cover the beautiful little wooden box she is in. I mean, I know she’s not there and that she is likely around in other ways, but it’s just really hard to perform your best when you have a peeping Mom in a box hedging your rope skills.

Mom aside, Jack loves to be bound like this and when COVID is over, I plan to take a few lessons or bring someone here to help me as I just want this to be eventually close to perfect as I plan to use this type of bondage so I can unlock and clean him without him being able to move. His locking is going amazingly well and he’s accepted they fact that I want to only allow him one, maybe be two, orgasms a year. In order to help with that, we are working on ways for him to channel his sexual energy into s more proper body part like orgasm through nipple play, etc. Yesterday, as he was tied there, I got down on my knees, stuck my tongue in his ear and asked him “have you ever seen what a man looks like shooting from a metal cage just because his Dom tongue’d his ear or whispered into it?” He responded with “No Sir” so I told him I would be sure to make sure we are standing in front of a mirror the first time I get him there. This was followed by his weekly maintenance spanking which I just fucking love doing to him and then lunch with Axel and a nap. A well deserved nap.

I am always hesitant to put NSFW emails on WordPress and the blog, so I will send you to twitter to see the caged bondage pics, but I can show the spanking aftermath.

Later…

Two posts in one day? This. Is. Madness.

But, this morning I wrote the first post with something on my mind and what I wrote did not really address it, though it did skim the issue just a bit as I started talking about the need to make a sub be regarded as less than human or less important, from either the dom OR the sub.

Some of this is based on someone who reached out to me about two months ago wondering whether he had done the right thing in losing himself to his Master. Never one to resist a story, I asked him (we will call him Howard though I actually don’t know his name) to fill me in and talk about what was worrying him. Turns out, he is an early retiree (mid 50’s), financially secure, previously married to a woman, a former executive who, after bravely coming out as gay 10-15 years ago, finally decided to embrace his kink side and his desire to be submissive to a younger Master. He didn’t have to search long and soon found a younger Master, who I think is early 50’s, in New York City (sub is in, I think, Texas) who has some experience, though I don’t know much about him. Within two hours of their first phone call, Howard was “collared forever” and was instructed to change all of his social media to reflect his new status. I can see that, deal with that, whatever, but then Howard lost his name. His “Master” named him a dog name and told him he was never allowed to speak in first person again. Howard ate that up as most into those things would do for 16-18 minutes, but the novelty wears off fast (especially when a grown man with a Maserati refers to himself as it over and over again). That rule added another rule and another rule and here we are two months ago when Howard reached out to me. It was an unsafe place for Howard mentally and he was now locked “permanently” in an eBay’d knockoff Holy Trainer for which he paid $11. Now just forget how I feel about people buying knock off cages where the design has been completely stolen from a chastity company for just a second and then think about being locked “forever” in a device so inexpensive that you’d have no idea what was inside it or if with every shower you were releasing some toxin into yourself. Who knows. When Howard talked with me he had not taken it off, even to clean, in three weeks because “his Sir had not allowed it.” I didn’t respond about that other than to say that likely wasn’t the best idea, but that was just me. The clincher here was I asked him if his Sir had taken the keys when he locked him and he responded that “he plans to give them to him when they meet” – when they meet? This man had changed all his accounts, stopped using his name and locked himself on a sketchy device for someone he had not met? Turns out, they had not even Zoom’d. I tried not to judge this as these things work for some guys, but he had messaged me and he had asked.

So, I finally asked him why he was doing it, what was drawing him to that, and IF he truly thought of himself as less than human not deserving a pronoun and he said “No, not in the least” so I asked why is he doing it and submitting to this man he doesn’t know. What he said shocked me. He said that he thought it was the only way this worked and that everything he had seen was like this and that his Sir had offered him the chance to live a version of his dream. This man literally built a company, cashed out and then retired, but he was so insecure about his kink that he allowed himself to be degraded just because? IF he wanted it that way, great, but he didn’t as far as I could tell. Also, I was worried he was being taken advantage of in some way and, while he did admit to having bought a gym membership for his Sir, he would not say if he had sent him any money, but I do worry about that too. Ultimately he is a grown man and all of this was his choice, but I hate that secrecy and apparently shame took him on this path.

I told him that I thought he needed to do some research, that I thought he deserved better, that I thought he could be whatever he wanted to be sub wise without losing his self worth, etc, etc.

He thanked me and then either deleted his Twitter account or blocked me within 10 minutes.

I guess it wasn’t ready to re-evaluate.

Last week I finally wrote a new post about the new boy, Axel, and life in general. I had honestly debated whether or not to start writing again, as I think I had mentioned 707 times, though I doubt I ever will. Almost a week later I am sitting here so happy that I did that because there was something about that post that “reconnected” me to, well, me. What it also did was helped connect me to a new set of guys on twitter who are at the same stages in their own relationships as I am with the boy and, ironically, their situations with their husbands are pretty damn close as well.

It feels good. In fact, it feels better than good.

I am only now starting to realize actually how isolated I allowed 2020 and the pandemic to make me feel. I am working very hard to let go of what I have now realized is a deep anger at COVID, the government, and everyone who refuses to mask or follow basic safety rules. Because of those things and those people (in my mind), this year, my mother died with a stranger who couldn’t figure out FaceTime in time, I said goodbye to my father on Zoom – though he recovered and is now transitioning to a new, final stage of life in a place where I can only wave at him through a closed window, and had to leave friends on the other side of the world who I miss dearly as my job may never take me there again. I let this anger stop my twitter and blog activity and I will be damned if I let it continue because, that one post, showed me there are so many more people and stories to get to know and that pandemic or not, I can still continue to build mine.

Specifically, that last post was how I will not degrade my boy and how I refuse to let him think of himself as less than me, or less than other men in general. Immediately following that post I heard from an East Coast friend who is the Master of one and Sir to a few and he completely disagrees with me on that line of thinking. I think that its is incredible we disagree as he needs to explore his domination in whatever way works for him. I respect him for his thoughts and he does me for mine, even though we each might think of each other as crazy. He made many good points about how can one train someone if they are not un-equal, or how will a sub learn and know “his place” etc and that is what made me really start thinking about professional org charts and the automatic respect title commands.

In my company, I sit two boxes below the on man who is on top. Based solely on that, I need to respect the him and the one person in the middle of us because they outrank me. They give me rules. I follow. Are they better men than I am for where they sit? Absolutely not, but they have more power in my relationship with them, simply by default. On the same token, I have 37 people who sit under me on an org chart. Am I any better as a human than they are? With the exception of two who I am not yet convinced are actually humans, no way. But, do I have more power than they do within the confines of our working relationship, absolutely so. It’s just so similar it’s scary and even more so when you look back and realize that almost every relationship in your life is based on domination and submissive to some degree and that, get this, even those can be done with clothing on.

These things made me realize that if I mapped out a kink org chart for me, it would have my box above a few and below a few too. That’s okay and how I prefer it, but in thinking along those terms, THAT is how I justify the power exchange and my ability to train those in the lower boxes as, like at real work, it’s my job or duty to do so based upon the placement of my box. In kink terms at home, it’s how I justify rules, titles, discipline and structure but it is also how I justify the rewards, incentives, mentorship, and cuddle time.

But, that is how I justify it for me, but, buyer beware, every relationship is different.

As I final note, one of the new friends I mentioned above is a fellow named CagedLumberJack who, like me, is a locked switch explore his sub side via chastity and his dom side via training a new boy. He’s an excellent writer and, as I read his blog, I actually think he might be my long lost mental twin as we tend to think the same. So, check it out and see what you think.