Category: Drew’s Life

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So, here we are, the Eve of New Year’s Eve. In case any of you care, New Year’s Eve is my least favorite “holiday”. In fact, I would go so far as to say that I HATE New Year’s Eve and have done so for my entire life.

I resent feeling like I “have” to go to a party just to start a year.

Of course, tomorrow I have to go to a party, you know, to start the year.

However, the good news, well, somewhat good news, is that Axel has the flu and may not feel like going. Wouldn’t that just be horrible? Of course, I’d need to stay home to play nurse, naturally.

Bless his heart.

At the end of the year I generally like to look back and write these long, flowing posts about life, love, and other things, but this year I am not doing that. Instead, I am simply going to say that I had a great 2014 and am proud of myself (and Axel) for opening my mind to new things, starting this blog, and officially opening my marriage because it’s been a fucking fun few months.

The one thing I always enjoy about the New Year is the chance to take a look ahead and make a few plans. I am not one to technically make “resolutions” because, well, I simply don’t like to follow the norm, but my plans are generally along the same path and since I have been very “out there” in the last few months, I have decided to make a few vows for 2015. Besides, I think a “vow” is much stronger than a “resolution”, don’t you think?

So, all that fun stuff to say, for 2015 I vow to:

Show myself fully naked (neck down, of course) to all of you by June 1st.

I know I am not in awful shape now, but I am not where I want to show myself off to more than the two people who currently see me naked now. This will serve as my motivation and I suspect there are several of you who will constantly remind me of the upcoming date.

That said, I have hired a trainer who understands I do not have a normal life and can’t do things like Crossfit and other things I want to do based on my schedule, so he is creating a plan for me that travels and tomorrow is our first day of training.

Never beat myself up ever again for my kinks and my desires.

To do this I plan to encourage Axel to do the same, as it benefits us both. I hope this means I will spend more time locked, more time with something inside me, and more time adhering to the chalkboard rules.

Also, with this vow, I intend to also more fully embrace my “super switchiness” and, when possible and during “those times”, take Thumper to that rocket place of pain where he makes that magical sound more often while also perfecting my fucking technique to a precision pattern that will leave him walking sideways for at least an afternoon – or two.

To continue to defy as many stereotypes as I can

I rather enjoy being the gay married business guy in the expensive suit with a tattoo, a rod in my cock, who is going about his day in the corporate world while almost always thinking about what he wants to ask his boyfriend to put up his ass just to make me giggle and swoon all day.

So, I am going to find a way to expand this.

To travel more

Yeah, this is just here for shits and giggles. In 2014 I spent 240+ nights in hotels and traveled 297,308 miles.

I have no idea what the year holds to be honest, but I hope to NOT beat these numbers.

To be the best husband, friend, son, brother, boyfriend, and man I can be

I actually always, always start every year by telling myself this; however, this year I just added one new word that I am not sure I ever expected I would add.  For the record, it made me smile.

So, those brief vows said, Happy New Year to you all. I hope 2015 brings you nothing but love, blessings, and all that other junk.

D

P.S. – as a funny aside, Axel is in the kitchen and, as I finished this, I yelled across the house that I had just made a vow to post a naked picture of myself as an incentive to get off the couch.  I heard nothing and then he appeared saying in the most accenty of accents which is somewhat sexily muted and gravely by his illness,  “Whoa, now, Drew, I am really, really liking this new side of you, but this is a bit much.  Don’t you think you should reign yourself in? I mean, no.”

I was a bit shocked until I realized that he thought I had put that vow on Facebook.

HNY

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I guess I should warn “those people” that is this not a sexy, kinky post as one needs to have been sexy and kinky recently to post a lot of that. I have felt neither this week but it’s coming back.

As I have mentioned, I am not traveling for almost three weeks and this is really throwing me off my game. Yes, I still have work to do (in fact, I am staring at a 150 page report I have to write that’s due Friday that I have only known about for six months and carried to four continents with me), but the inner Sheldon I carry around in my head is screaming at me because there is nowhere I HAVE to be and no logical schedule to be following.

Prior to this job, I was the typical 8-5 executive who always had an office to go to and a stress level that caused me to lose what hair I had left. When I switched careers, I spent months adjusting to having every day be different and often in a different city, but I quickly realized that no routine WAS the routine so it settled and I learned to embrace it and my stress levels are lower than in the last 20 years professionally. However, when home, I was struggling because I often became overwhelmed at the fact I had one, two or three nights to do what I used to have seven do to. This caused stress between Axel and myself because, frankly, I am just an ass when the world is not going my way. I try to fight it, but I just can’t sometimes.

That is where the idea of me being more controlled at home and while away in chastity came from and it was working, but with December being what it was professionally for him and my sex organ bleeding, the magic of that control dried up for a few weeks. However, as I have said, it will come back and I am looking forward to it. In fact, Axel and I talked this week on our road trip to what I call “Southern Hell”, aka, the in-laws, about how to get that back and how the chastity, we realized, had played a huge role in things. That is too much to add here, but I plan a separate post on that later today or tomorrow because I feel it’s important to share or at least for me to remember when I read this years from now for my own information.

Speaking of that trip, honestly that is what inspired this post in a way because it made me realize exactly how comfortable and how happy I have been since allowing myself to embrace my kink side, since allowing you all into it, since beginning my relationship with the bunny boyfriend, which ALL circles back to Axel and I opening our marriage.

I know it’s hard to get how all of that can happen around an aluminum Alabama Christmas tree, however, in this case, I was very out of my element and wanting to just tell every single person in the room that I had a piece of titanium in my penis, like plugs in mine and my boyfriend’s asses, and that I have met Doms/Dommes/slaves/subs/and pets in the last few weeks. It was crazy, but I had such a feeling of not fitting in that I was struggling to even make conversation. Of course, that was not fair to Axel so I worked hard and got past it, but it wasn’t easy.

I have told you I am a proud Southern man and was born and raised “down here”, but Axel and I come from very different Souths. Mine is one of acceptance, private education, dressing for Sunday dinner (at 2pm), and using one’s natural accent for emphasis or sexiness (or just when drunk). His South is, unfortunately, more stereotypical where judgment rules, religious symbols are placed everywhere (someone we know has a picture of Jesus printed on vinyl and cut to fit the hood of their Camry), accents are just, well, bad for the image of all Southerners, and our German SUV is still looked at as “one of them foreign cars” and seriously does elicit stares.

That said, most of the people are good, hardworking people and have never, ever treated me with anything but respect, even while praying for the gay to go away. However, after hearing my mother-in-law refer to me as Jake multiple times (yes, while Drew is not my real name, it’s not Jake either and after 17 years, she should know it) and after my father-in-law and his wife gave me a giant cross sticker for the window of our cars, I ALMOST lost it before Axel suddenly jumped in and started explaining how all of that was inappropriate, how we were both pretty much agnostic and, even if we were religious we’d never have it on our cars, and that my name is ____.

It was really funny because then he started talking about how they could use a nice “re-think” of everything, how people, including their neighbors have secrets behind closed doors, and how praying to the Camry would likely not save their soul. When the irrational people left and the conversation evolved, I had stepped out for a bit and came back in to hear him talking about this couple he knows that have the kids, the house, perfect careers, and the dog, but have open minds about life and how they thrive. In fact, that “husband even has a boyfriend” (which caused two gasps and one brother in law to be seen adjusting his crotch) and that she is “encouraging of it and sees it just like when she goes to the spa”. I am not sure if I was too proud of him to be happy or too happy to realize how proud I was or just too busy looking around the table to see if anyone was putting two and two together (they didn’t and I didn’t blush) but it was just one more step on the Axel evolution ladder in a weird, weird setting.

So, this was a long post about nothing, but just shows that once again, the dominoes are all falling in a row and that just makes me smile harder than I would if a troop of hot firemen were to walk through the room (well, maybe not).

More tomorrow on chastity and the plans for January but until then, remember, if feeling blue, go find yourself your own Camry to pray to. I hear it helps.

P.S. Yes, Thumper, I know you predicted I would not know what to do with myself with 3 weeks off.  The bunny is always right, folks

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Two weeks ago right now, Thumper was sitting on my, oh wait, nevermind, he writes about that stuff so much better than me.

Anyway, in about an hour it will have been two weeks since the needle went through my dick forever changing the direction I pee. As you know from reading this, my first few days seemed to have been much worse than others, mainly Thumper’s, but, l seemed to have healed faster too, although I most likely kept my hands as well as other’s away from it longer too.

A few days ago I honestly stopped even realizing it was there (until visiting the loo) and at that point I started being a bit more aggressive with it, touching, tugging, and, well, climaxing multiple times. It’s been multiple loads of fun.

At the two week mark there is no sensitivity, no redness, and no more burning but I am still keeping a close eye out for all of those things as I know there is no way it’s completely healed through and through.  Courteney, the piercer, told me that by going with a bigger gauge that it would heal faster, and, although I immediately called hogwash on that because it did not make sense to me that a larger wound would heal faster, she told the truth and I take back all the poppycocks I threw her way. It still fascinates me, so if anyone medical or sciencey knows why, please enlighten me.

I will still be careful because I see Thumpie in about 15 days (who’s counting though, ha) and I am going to make very sure he is rewarded for being such a great hand holder and genuine friend and good guy during the blood in the aisle of Walgreens hour. We are also going to change my jewelry to a 6ga ring which I cannot wait to get.

For those I have talked with who were watching me to see about getting their own done, I say do it. Mine is different that I expected and I felt weird about being a 44 year old man and doing something radical like that, but I have ZERO regrets and from what I can tell thus far, the amazing feelings it provides are and will be incredible.

So, all this said, this will likely be the last healing update unless I do something stupid and hurt myself, but, since I am going to the in-laws tomorrow, the kind of hurt myself plan that is in my head has more to do with jumping out windows and less about tugging too hard.

In other news, I had lunch yesterday with a straight female friend who already knew about Thumper’s boyfriend status and Axel’s encouragement of it, so, me being this new open me, I gave her the link to this blog and the rabbit’s. She’s not prudish in any way, but this morning I had the “WTF did I do?” moment, but decided I did not care.  So, if you are reading this _______, I assume we have next week’s coffee topic picked out, huh?

Also, you may have seen on Twitter that Belle gave him a great quote about how she feels about he and I, and I shared that with Axel who said something eloquent like “Yup. Brilliantly smart woman”.  So, that’s made me (and I assume Thump, smile since). It’s just nice to feel so supported. Axel and I have eight hours together in my truck tomorrow, so I am sure the topic will come up more too 🙂

Finally, I thought that perhaps writing about my penis on Christmas Eve would feel odd, but, nope. It’s just as the world needs it to be which is just fucking great, right?

That said, Happy Christmas to ALL.  Be well, my friends.

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This afternoon I got my first complaint.

I have gotten rude comments, questions, and compliments over the months, but never a complaint.

You see, Joelsub32 wrote me a rather eloquent message that said,  “Dude, your blog is supposed to be about you being a slave to your husband and owning a straight guy’s ass – which is hot. I looked and it’s all words and it’s about your life -not hot. Plus, who is Axel, Thumper and Stella? Too many names – also not hot.”

Well, what can I say, Joel? Have you heard of Tumblr?

Although I doubt Joel will ever read this, I decided to write a little synopsis here for new readers who, I hope can comprehend a bit more than Joelsub32.

The CliffsNotes of The Drew Duality:

The Blog: It’s true, it was supposed to be only about my submission to my husband and my dominant relationship with a bisexual married man who is locked in chastity and longed to be fucked by a man. While I think the original intend would be that this would be about a great deal of sexual details and less about life, what this has turned into is an outlet for me to explore my kink side through words, challenge myself at times, and chronicle my day to day life with “the husband” and the bisexual man (he’s far from straight, Joel), now often referred to simply as “the boyfriend”.

The blog has taken on a life of itself and is something I very much enjoy, so it’s going to continue and will evolve as my life does, as a husband, as a boyfriend, as a professional executive trainer, as a traveler, and, most importantly, as a switch who is navigating all of these waters as they flow together.  Finally, I write this blog as the man who is made up of all of those things and as a man who has honestly never been happier in his life as he comes to find a bit more peace in his soul every single day in accepting those things that drive his mind and his penis to great pleasure and as he finds some great people along the way.

The Husband (Axel): My partner of 17 years (and my legal husband of two), known only here as Axel, a name HE chose by the way, is an amazing man who I confessed my kink side to in 2008. Since that time it has been an evolving path of discovery often taking three steps forward and 117 back before repeating the process and starting again. Eventually, we made progress and are now at a spot where he wants and is taking more and more control of my life at home, which I happily give him (although due only just to life events, right now we are in one of the reverse series – but it’s all okay).

Our path took a great leap when we decided to open our relationship so that we could each explore things we wanted but were not getting at home. For Axel, he had a few dalliances that were only that and never amounted to anything more (but he is determined to find his own boyfriend soon). For me, this openness was really only symbolic until I met “the boyfriend” in October. At that time everything really exploded on both sides, with Axel deciding he wanted me to have a prince albert followed by chastity control and some structure at home, while also allowing me every freedom in the world I want or need with the boyfriend.  He is an amazing man and I am proud to share my life and my last name with him.

The Boyfriend (Thumper): Thumper really needs no introduction because of his incredible blog I was a huge fan of before we met (although I still am a huge fan too). He is a married, bisexual father whose wife keeps him locked in chastity 24/7 and has for over six years.  His full story and amazing blog can be found here, but we found each other after he wrote a post about wanting to be fucked by a man and I simply volunteered which was step one.  Step two was us clicking like long lost friends and realizing that we shared many unique things (and we continue to do so such as PA dates and times and, this week, I realized my ATM code is one he uses for something else – really, of all the numbers and codes in the world we use the same ones??) and that our kinks not only clicked, but they aligned almost perfectly like a delicately shaped plug designed for a gaping hole.

We started out as Dom/sub, Sir/boy, and I used many names for him publicly that I now use in private at the right times (except DILF -it’s just so fucking true to not be public) and had rules, challenges, and tasks which were followed by amazing sex, but after that we realized that our real lives were suffering at the expense of these activities and that the possibility of really being friends and knowing each other for the men we are would not be possible under the mask of me as always a Dom and him as always a sub. This new “freedom” has allowed him to serve as my kink mentor, female anatomy advisor, baseball coach, tech support hotline, my hole at a few specific times (see these posts), and, most importantly, my friend which is something I have grown to value tremendously.

All that said, we still fuck like bunnies and I still own his ass in private when we can (at least every month) and will continue to do so too!  Lucky for all of us is that he recaps those episodes as well!

The Dog (Stella): Stella is my girl and probably my favorite. She’s a spoiled terrier who has multiple beds (two heated and one cooled) and has a busier schedule than me and Axel combined. That said, she’s often referred to in the posts as an annoyance, but I love her dearly.

The Penis (Mr. Winky): RIP Mr. Winky, we now call you Cock.

So, that is where we stand, Joelsub32.  Care to send me another email complaining about words?

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So, last night was THE night. The first orgasm with my new friend, Prince Albert.

To be honest, while I was really looking forward to this, I had also really been dreading it for the fear that it would hurt, that it would set my recovery back as I have read of happening to so many people, and/or, well, that it just wouldn’t work.

And, as you may have seen on Twitter, WOW, it felt absolutely like something I have never felt in my life and I wanted to immediately go online and thank the people at St. Sabrina’s and then go hug Thumper for taking me and holding my hand and all those things, but, of course, I was first so I had to wait on Axel. Ugh.

Yes, Axel was there and was a part of this event, but to be honest this one was all about me as I had all the above emotions in my head while trying to make it happen. I think I have said here before that I usually take a long time, even if significant time has passed, but last night was fast which surprised us both.

The sex was bad, but I didn’t care. Neither did he. That was not the point last night.

The bad sex part was from fear of me touching the wrong place, him touching the wrong place, Stella jumping on the bed at the wrong time and Thumper in my head saying “don’t set yourself back” over and over again. We had been there before when, a few years back, Axel had some major reconstructive surgery done on his leg and hip – a story I won’t share here – and getting back to normal after that was odd because I feared for months after the fact that I would hurt him. While this was very very minor in comparison, it was nice to have a familiar place to go back to knowing that the next will be better and then the next, etc.

Now, about that climactic moment…

Wow. It burned some, which I had expected, but the orgasm itself was about four times more intense than I ever remember having in the past sensation wise. It was like I could feel the ejaculate going around the rod and hitting nerves, although most likely literal raw nerves, that had never been hit before. Also, while never in my life have I been a “shooter”, last night I was. In fact, this morning, to be a bit graphic, I was very happy that we did not choose a fabric headboard and that the wall had paint which could be scrubbed clean.

So, that’s that. The great news is this morning there is no soreness, no extra sensitivity, and the road ahead looks very promising which is especially good because I can’t wait to change this jewelry to a ring which Thumper is going to help me pick out. Yay.

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Dear Readers, while this is not how my mother would have taught me to introduce someone (but, in her defense, I guess she didn’t realize I would be writing a blog about Dom/sub sex between myself, my husband and a bisexual boyfriend either), meet Ferns, the writer of the only book about female domination that I have ever endorsed (it’s THAT good, buy it here), but the writer of the Domme Chronicles, an outstanding blog that mixes some great sexual adventure with some even better personal insight and perspective from her view from the top of her heels.

Ferns was inspired to write her own post responding to my post written exactly a week ago when Axel hurt my feelings, accidentally, when I came home all manlier and stuff since I had steel in my cock and thought I was a bleeding bad ass at that point. As you all know, that moment with Axel passed and, in fact, when I got home last night I walked in and he was sitting on the stairs with Stella and he said something to me like “I can’t remember when I have been so happy to have you home” so, of course,  I then forgave EVERYTHING ever, but, it was still a moment that taught me a lesson.

Fern’s post, as well as my comment back to her, can be seen here. Spend a bit of time on her page. You will be better for it.

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I just had a weird experience at the urinal in the airport. Well, to qualify that, since I got the pa every experience at the urinal is odd as I’ve not quite mastered the direction thing yet, but, in this case my aim was perfect.

Anyway, I noticed the man next to me “glancing” to which he then said “nice size gauge, man. How long have you had it?” Which was followed by him swinging around and showing me his two gauge that’s he’s very proud of. I froze. I mean it’s not like he had lady parts or anything and it and he were rather attractive, but, this cannot be normal can it?

I thanked him, of course, before bidding him adieu and am now really hoping he’s not about to file past me on my flight.

It just reminded me of when I was in high school and my parents bought me a Saturn. I had to trade it because every other Saturn driver waved.

I know I’m now in a club of sorts, but, surely no, just no.

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“Mr. Winkie must die”. The sorta-phrase heard all day yesterday in various forms from Axel and Thumper.

Evidently, neither liked the fact that in the previous post about my one week of healing that I referred to my penis as “Mr. Winkie”.

It’s “not sexy”, they say. “You’re a grown man”, they say. Yadda. Yadda. Yadda, they say.

Actually, the bigger thought was that such items should not have names. I find that sad, but also see a point, so in an effort to be a better husband and boyfriend to the boyfriend and husband, I have vowed that my penis will no longer be referred to by any name other than cock, penis, dick, or monster, you know, all the technical terms. In my defense, it’s not like I would saddle up behind either and say something like “get ready for Mr. Winkie”, but, I do see their point and I will do my best to make sure that it shall no longer be named.

While this post has absolutely nothing to do with chastity, sex, or anything kinky (damn me and my vow as I have now I missed my chance since that rhymes so well with Winkie), I laughed all day about how these two men who have not (yet) met both picked up on the same thing and both gave me hell about it in the same snippy, yet endearingly sarcastic ways. Actually, it was an unintentional threeway of sorts as they also each added in there that I tend to give inanimate objects a gender assignment and that it should stop as well. This was just once, after recently referring to my truck as a “he” and they thought that was a bit silly too. So, I will kill Winkie, but not sure my truck will understand just yet.

I kid, of course, as it was more just fun for me to see that they both freakishly united in this “request” at almost the exact time and in the almost exact way.  Just odd.  (as an FYI, Axel does not read the blog, but I have sent him the PA updates as he has a vested interest and wants to know those)

In addition, while I am writing about nothing in particular, I want to give an update on Axel as I am not sure I painted a fair picture of him last weekend when I arrived home with my freshly poked Mr., errrr, cock. A few of you have told me that you felt sorry for me over his reaction and that he could have reacted better, been more excited, and such. For those who said that, I agree 100 percent. He should have. But, there were many things about my arrival home and the weekend that I could have done better too, so in this case,  it truly is what it is or, well, was what it was. As a bit of background too, Axel’s workload almost quadruples in December and he’s working more hours than me without the benefit of the occasional first class seat and kettle one and cranberry. Stress levels are high this month and always have been, so I really should have known better than to expect much more. In fact, one of the reasons I chose to have myself modified in December was due to the fact that intimacy, kink, control, and any of the other fun words that belong in that sentence are quite improbable during these weeks, so it made for a good time to temporarily render oneself impotent so that I’d be back and roaring when Axel wakes up from his much needed nap a few days after Christmas (after we return from his family and I wake up from the self medicated induced coma I typically have to put myself in for survival too).

I am in Los Angeles tonight and will be heading home for almost three solid weeks tomorrow and have promised him he can touch the steely cock as much as he wants, now that doing so will not send me through the ceiling in pain like it would have this time last week. While I intend to stay in my half self imposed/half healing imposed state of device free chastity for at least another week for the internal healing, the touch is something I have missed dearly and am looking very forward to feeling when I get there.

As a nine day update, I am healing quite well and the burning has slowed, though it is still there at times. Mentally I no longer “think” constantly about my dick, but the new vibrations and sensations are still rather, um, thrilling.

Happy weekend.

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I like the sounds he makes, when I hurt him.

I like the look in his eyes, when I hurt him.

I like the tension of his muscles, when I hurt him.

I like the way his ass grabs my dick like it’s never been as satisfied, when I hurt him.

I like the fact that, for a few seconds, he leaves me alone in the room when he goes wherever he goes in his mind, when I hurt him.

In fact, I am counting down the days until I can hurt him again.

Hurting him is fun. Hurting him gives me pleasure. Hurting him makes him “hard”.

This all started last week when Thumper tweeted the phrase “he likes the way I sound when he hurts me” and as mentioned, fuck, yes I do. In fact, while reading that phrase, my mind got turned on something fierce (my mind, of course, since, at that point my penis was still bleeding like a skewered goat and couldn’t react accordingly. He has since resumed his excitement over it; however).

Of course, me being me, I could not just accept the fact that his non-comfort, when naked and under me, makes me happy, so I have also been trying to figure out what it is that makes me want to hurt him and why when he begins this weird purr like guttural growl it makes me harder than I have been in years. See, he already has the sexiest voice in Minnesota, but, when it goes into that growly sound, it’s like I have just opened a Costco sized box of Cracker Jacks and the giant prize inside is just pure, dirty, sticky, wonderful sex.

Is that alone the reason? I dunno.

Today, Thumper wrote some advice back to one of his readers about how she should embrace her kinks and feelings because that is not going away and, through this post, I decided to do the same as I am now further embracing mine and have vowed not to even worry about why I feel that way, but to just let those feelings take over when that collared bunny presents me his fine tail and run with it, when possible.

In fact, let’s consider this my coming out as, at least, a part time sadist. Part time, meaning that the absolute only time I don’t want him comfortable is when we are on that path to his internal fireworks. Of course, this may not be a direct path and I have plenty of plans to make this take some time, but those will be between he and I until he shares them, (and you know he will).  I want to get him there faster next time, but in the days leading up to my next visit, we will be taking some steps to insure that as well and those may not be pleasant for him, but he will do them because he knows he has to in order to make his eyes roll back later in the week.  It’s the simple carrot and stick approach, really.

Anyway, let’s go back one week from tomorrow when he reached that place he described, shall we?

What he forgot to mention is that I had also linked the ring of his Steelheart to his locked ankles, so every time I would push him nipple wise, he’d pull himself ball wise and had linked nipple clamps through his collar so when he pulled his balls, he’d also “tug” his nipples. (I am a twisted fuck at times, btw). Actually, in hindsight, he may not have even realized that these elements were there as the scene escalated, but I did take some notes for next time and plan an updated configuration to make sure he won’t make that mistake again. In fact, next time we will get him there faster, keep him there longer, and we will spread out the pain so he may not even realize exactly where it’s coming from. I’ve been reading, my friends, and have all these notes neatly diagramed in my mind for the bunny to try to hop right off the bed, or floor, or windowsill, etc.

But he won’t.

Now, all of this is very relevant to his post last week about “That Place Where You Can Only Take Trust” because, like the twin towers he mentioned at the end, NONE of this can or will happen until I make sure we are both at the right place, the right time, and that our minds are thinking the same way.  It’s only been a few months, but I suspect that if we were at a cocktail party right now we could read each other’s expressions from across the room – his would be one of fascination because he had just seen something sparkly and mine would be some sort of intense look because I’d be pissed we were still there – but we would know, sorta, where the other stood. This party game skill transfers to sex too, because, I like nothing more than to make his downward looking submissive eyes look me in the eye while I control him and one learns a lot during those moments. Trust me.

To answer some more of those questions from earlier responses, yes, we did have a safe word, which was something so unique that I have forgotten it. However, I knew he’d never use it at that point because if I was doing my job right, deep down he’d know that I would never really hurt him and I never ever would. But, at that moment, I know that he was no longer processing such trivial things as bruises, marks, or ER trips, so I had to, and will continue to do so, because, that’s my job. During those times when he is my submissive, my masochist, my hole, and my object, he’s also my responsibility and I do not and will not ever take that lightly.

Besides, the bottom line is something my grandmother always told me as a child:

“Drew, when you grow up, make sure you never send your locked DILF boyfriend home to his wife broken or there will be trouble, young man”.

Words. To. Live. By.