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In this whole “Drew explores kink” journey thing I expected to find many different things as I explored my Dom, sub and switch sides. Of course, as the way one’s mind tends to trail, I thought the known was already explored and that, in this journey, I would only find things that were all new, all illuminating, and all delightfully twisted. In many ways I have found all of those things including my sub-letting of Thumper, my new fascination with having my encased penis all over the internet, and multiple new friendships that have already changed the legacy that I will one day leave.

Recently, on some random day doing some random thing, I found the one thing I never expected to find:

My husband.

In the 20 years that I have known Axel, I know with 100 percent certainty that I have loved him every single day of those 7,300 days next to him. I also know that, while I have always been sexually attracted to him, I haven’t been great in showing that to him as I have always put sex on the the third, fourth, or even seventh shelf below whatever was most important at that current time be it work, family, friends, or even boyfriends on the side who have rabbit like names. As we know, it’s all a wicked balancing act and, with a weird professional life that sends me odd places all over the world (by the way, hello from Tasmania) every single week, I, well we, allowed it get out of balance from time to time.

However, something has changed and, while I suspect half of you are thinking my next sentence will start with divorce, it’s honestly the absolute farthest thing from the reality as, I have, honestly, just re-fallen in love with my husband in a way that mixes the 13 year old girl obsession with an unexplored submissive side that has resulted in me calling him Sir more than a few times recently. These things, also combined with a new level of respect for him as a human being, have also led to this creepy smile on my face that just simply won’t go away right now. Apparently, whatever it is is contagious, because he seems to have done the exact same thing with me. Seriously.

Of course, through the years, we have had waves of new re-connective-ness, but none of them felt like this and none of them lasted. Now, he and I are almost giddy again, which is something two men pushing 50 should never be seen in public doing. When I left for this three week trip down under where I am now, I felt like I had been hit in the gut by a bowling ball because I was being crushed by a feeling of sadness that I don’t think I have had when apart from him for years. This was a good thing and I am proud that I could still even have that level of deep emotions and he and I have kept that up in our daily calls and facetimes.

On the kink side, I realized that I have been trying to make him be my version of the dream dominant I wanted and, God love him, he tried so hard to change himself to be that too, but we couldn’t force that. But, in this new wave of “us” there is no “changing” for either of us as we each just are who we are and that day a few weeks ago when we just looked at each other and his natural dominance was just shining from behind his eyes. I ate it up.

From that moment on, he had me again, however he wants me, because I want to see that glimmer in his eyes every single day of my life. That glimmer creates a desire in me that, after 20 years, is fucking fun.

 

 

 

 

This post isn’t really about me and my kink in the slightest, but aimed primarily at those I have gotten to know of the five years of this blog as you have watched from the kink sideline as muggle Drew faced some hard realities of aging that have absolutely nothing to do with whether my dick is currently encased or not (fyi, not, because Ax thought I might be sad and just now let me have my way with him).

This post is, yet again, all about my Mom. For those relatively new to me, my mother is my hero. In sitcom comparisons she was the Julia Sugarbaker of real life and in movies she was the Skeeter of The Help. She has a doctorate in English and was a brilliant professor in her time. She was also a black-balled Southern Belle and I strongly remember as a kid watching her endure a Junior League meetings at the Country Club with a look in her eye that told me she would have almost preferred to be on fire than to be there at that moment, “but a woman”, as she said, “had a duty to the community”, so she stayed.

Sadly, a bit more than two years ago she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, at 72, which is much younger than most, and we have watched the disease begin to take it’s toll on her despite the best abilities of my father, my family, and some strategically based calls I made calling in connections from around the world trying to find something to help. However, she may one day be part of the cure, but for her, she is on the wrong side of progress and we realize that now it’s just a matter of time as MOST of that woman I described above has already left the planet, though there are occasional glimpses.

The reason she was mentioned so much in this blog was due to the fact that I always did, and still do, believe that she knew about me fucking Thumper on the side.  This was because she would throw some loaded questions out to me, such as, “and just how is your married bisexual friend in Minnesota doing? And that sweet wife of his, how is she?” or my favorite, “Are you getting what you need out of your relationship with your friend?” or her very direct questions to Axel such as “when Drew travels, especially North, do you get to see anyone special, you know, for drinks and things?” The first time she asked him that I believe she had a specific reason, but when she saw that he turned purple, white, and a bit blue all at the same time as those words registered in his mind, his reaction likely caused her to ask him similar things over and over again just to get a giggle or two. In reality, whether she did/does know or not was irrelevant to the fact that I was taking away an endorsement of sorts, from her, with, at least in my head,  a “you go live your life and fucking have fun in the process” type of takeaway. I mean, in reality who doesn’t want their mother to endorse an outside of non romantic boyfriend without working genitals due to the fact that they have been locked by his wife type relationship? I mean, really, don’t we all want that?

However, these were not JUST the reasons I would talk about her here either as through aging, and then the disease, glimpses of my parent’s sex life has leaked with things said from her like “well, your father always liked it when I was mean to him” or the casual threats, clouded in dementia, about spanking him when he had forgotten something threatened as recently as two months ago at Thanksgiving. These things, added to other comments like “well, you father always liked a good threesome” and “I don’t know why he pretends to make decisions” have made me think that my Dad was and is a submissive to my Mother in sex and in life.

In looking back, I don’t actually remember my Dad making many decisions at all about where we went to school, where we vacationed, and how they paid their bills. As a kid, ATM’s were a new thing and I distinctly remember an argument they had where he had not been giving her his receipts and “balancing his allowance”. These are things that were just normal to me and never caused me to pause as that is just how it was and, frankly, how I preferred it because she was always the parent I would go to if I needed anything. In addition to these things, I was a sneaky, nosey child and always remember finding a whip under her side of the bed and him having a box with some restraints, plugs and other items that looked primitive to me, even thirty years ago. As they aged, they made no bones about discussing the fact they had an active sex life, but, again in hindsight, she talked and he just silently acknowledged. Even as he approached 80 years old, he was able to go to many femdom websites, and some bisexual ones too, which is a fact Axel and I know quite well as he was able to get there, but never able to easily get out and we’d often have to avert our eyes while trying to release a MacBook with a frozen OS  or delete the pic of the gagged man with the small Asian woman brandishing a paddle that he had somehow managed to save as wallpaper to both his MacBook and iPhone. Please know, these are not things I am judging either of them on and, when not actually thinking about the fact that they are my parents and these are acts they would do together while naked, I was pretty damn proud of him for still having the appetite at his age.

I say all those things as a background because now, the man who allegedly deferred every decision to his allegedly dominant wife is now finding himself absolutely paralyzed as he has to make the ultimate decision of when enough is enough and when he has to stop trying to take care of every minute part of her because the time has come that she needs to live in a memory care facility for HIS health and not just hers. This is now a reality based on several things that have happened over the holiday period as she rapidly advanced in her disease within a period of three weeks, but the biggest factor is the love of his life is now being mean to him, and not in the way I suspect he used to like it.

I am also not implying in ANY way that the decision to move a spouse away from home I ever easy regardless of which side of the leash said spouse was on, but the whole thing has made me wonder if in Dominant and submissive relationships is there a place where one needs to be taught to take control or be comfortable with it. The reality is that I am maybe just “romanticizing”  the D/s aspects of this as a way of trying to come to my own terms with what is happening because I know my mother would have told him years ago that this was what was expected of him (again, in hindsight, she always used words like “expected” and “required” with him) when the time comes and that he is not failing her as a sub, a spouse, or as whatever it was they defined it to be.

For me, my approach to him has been very different than that of my sibling as she is taking the “it’s what is right” approach with him, while I have now started the “you realize you have not failed in your duties to Mom” approach with him, trying oddly to talk to the sub side of him without any creepiness because he is my father and/or that I am implying anything about the dynamics of their marriage to him. I know that in my own marriage, sex and kink aside, in the days after Ax’s accident and subsequent surgeries, it would not have mattered if he were my slave or I his, because my job was to protect him and us regardless, so maybe that is just what I am dealing with with the parents.

But, I just don’t know. This is a post I hope Ferns, Thumper, Mrs F and others will respond to from a Dominant female submissive male POV, and this is not specifically about my father but other ACTUALLY KNOWN submissive males and/or females, but does taking away the power in a relationship mean that it is not capable of returning when it needs to? or are after 50+ years is any dominant side dead? (again, in hindsight, never once in my life was I scolded by my father, it was always by my Mother). And, if so, how do we help these people when they are face to face with it?

For me, because of the switchiness of my personality, I think one should be able to pop up and do what is needed when assuming whatever role is necessary, but I am sure that doesn’t play like that in the end as I honestly think my father feels he is failing and is lost without Her direction.

In closing, there is really nothing that CAN be answered by this nor do I think any answer will change anything as this is likely me just processing on “paper” and going off into a little tirade as I am have spent my holidays touring memory centers and talking to old people. The one thing in ALL of this that does make me happy is that I kinda am proud to have continued to keep kink in the family and even though they would never know it or that I would ever tell them, the kink positive vibe my parents put out, regardless if intentional or not, made me strong, made me proud, and, despite some questioning here and there and what specifically it is, still makes me happy to be my perverted self.

Time for a quick post to talk to you chastity guys about your usual Saturday evening dinner conversation, your prostate.

The question (followed by the backstory) is:

Have you experienced higher than normal PSA levels during an extended lock up and/or would you know? 

I ask this because, as I have mentioned, I have low testosterone naturally and for the last seven or eight years I have been on weekly injections which keep me pretty regular in the manly hormone way. With this automatically comes blood work every six weeks or so that monitors hormone level and give a PSA score as use of artificial testosterone increases one’s risk of prostate cancer later in life. For the last seven or eight years my PSA has been in the low 3’s, exactly where it should be as they say anything above a 4 ir abnormal or needs watching.

Six weeks ago I was a 3.5 and that was two days into a chastity period imposed by Axel that went until about an hour ago (and, damn THAT was nice). I was happily sailing in this period until I went yesterday for shots and followup from the bloodwork the week before (six weeks locked, no orgasm, no milking) and my PSA was 5.9, a significant increase which, to the doctor, indicated I have a slight prostate infection which he wants me to take a month’s worth of antibiotics to clear.

Now, I do have some of the symptoms of the infection and have not been feeling great, so maybe that is it, but I have to wonder if the lack of ejaculation can cause the gland to swell thus raising the score? I know the body is supposed to take care of this through leaking and nocturnal emissions and maybe something was blocked that hasn’t helped this.

Before you ask, this is not a doc I am that friendly with that I would share the locked information, so, no, I didn’t.

When you google this you get all those people that think they will forever shrink a dick with a cage, so I thought I would bring my question here.

Thoughts?

(how many people thought I meant to say TSA? in the headline?)

“There’s only room for one cock in this house and, since yours is encased in titanium, it looks like that cock is going to be mine.”

That was what Axel told me last night when I got home from an appointment. It wasn’t quite so out of the blue, so I will explain below, but it was very out of character for him, so I was rather surprised. Basically, I have been home about a week after an extended 13 day trip that wrapped up my travel for 2018. During that trip I met and then, the next day, (gently) served an amazing Master in the California desert who helped me see who a  new side of myself that didn’t have to fit into the exact box of Master or slave or even strictly Dom or sub. It’s been two weeks and I am actually still processing this and will write about the experience as a whole soon, as I owe him more than just a mention in this paragraph (but, Sir, if you are reading, thank you again for the very enlightening day).

So, back to Axel and the time at home. One of my last posts mentioned that he was stepping things up and, as you can tell from the comment above, I apparently really did mean it. The only cock in the house comment was made for multiple reasons with the most being that when I am out of the house, traveling, or the like, I have his permission to get my Dominant top side on and whether that leads to an orgasm or not, he doesn’t care as long as I am on that side of the penis. However, sex aside, this also significantly addresses an aspect of our 20 years together which is the fact that he and I do not work well together. Never have and I would have said likely never will, but I can list countless house projects, vacation plannings, home and car repairs, bills, and more that we have failed at when trying to do as a couple. I am not saying we fight all the time when doing things, but we do not naturally flow in synch together because we each have a right way to do it and are each never not vocal about explaining to the others why our way is the right way. He said he was doing some thinking and now, since I don’t hold the cock, I might be asked about how I might do something, but he’s now the official project manager as well.

Of course, this slight power exchange had already trickled into our sex life to a degree as he has called most of those shots for the last year or so. Though I will admit that sometimes that annoys me, I am learning to really love that aspect as it truly is one less decision I have to think about.

All of those things, though, can be attributed to having two cocks in one space as we both have that need to make ours be longer than each others every now and then, despite the fact that they can also often flow in unison (fyi, he is longer, but I am much more girthy). As I sat down to write this, I started thinking about couple friends I know and how they work together and, while this is by no means a scientific poll, the ones I know as tops do tend to lead in similar areas. However, that is what it is as I also know a power bottom who is the bossiest bitch ever and his husband, the professed top, follows him around on an invisible leash any time they are doing any activity with clothes on. When the clothes come off, so does his control. Again, these are just Drew’s thoughts and nothing of value, but I will promise to continue to watch.

Finally, the Drew titanium cock collection will soon be growing (I did sell two so I just really have the Crucible 2.0 now as the ti one and the Steelworx Steelheart  as the steel one plus a few holy trainers) as Axel as ordered a new cage from Steelwerks that will be very sleek, all titanium and will have a cock ring attached as he does not love the freedom the Crucible allows me (though he does agree a locked erection is beautiful). That will be coming in January and I am sure I will post one or two pictures on Twitter when it does.

As I close this, I have to admit that when I think of chastity and cock control, I really do always go with the sexual immediately as we all do. However, Axel is embracing it less on that and more on cohesiveness, which is just another reason I do like this idea more and more. We will see and, well, I will update when needed.

With that, Happy Christmas everyone, no matter how or where you celebrate.

In my last post I questioned whether masculinity and submission can go hairy, masculine hand in hairy, masculine hand together and got a few very interesting replies. I have some very specific responses for a few of those and will likely address them in a separate post later this week. I was really happy that a lot of these came from first time posters as that showed me some life in the blog, but all the advice wrapped together pretty much boiled down to the fact that I was being pretty unrealistic in assuming submissiveness weakened the soul of a man and that I would be a fool not to take this opportunity that my husband has presented. 

Like I said, there will be a more in depth conversation about these later in the week, but I do have to share my favorite response from a “long time reader” from Twitter.

Drew, I have read your blog for many years and think you might be able to gain some insight from another excellent blogger. Check out http://www.denyingthumper.com when you have a chance. B.

Well,  while I appreciated the advice, it did make me laugh, though it also made me think Thumper was at play or that might be the perfect way for all of us to reply to people now.

Anyway, in other news it’s been almost a week since I got home from the other side of the world and to the new dominant Axel and I just thought I would check in and let everyone know that my masculinity didn’t instantly melt nor did 98 percent of our regular balance instantly start bouncing. There are little things, such as being locked to my desk as I write this, that have and will continue to change, but as sad as it might make some of you. I didn’t come home to find all the walls painted dungeon black with all of our furniture having been replaced by metal and spiky things (though I wish the couch had been). I have been locked since I got back and will continue to be until the day next week when I will wear met sexy suit to give a presentation in Pennsylvania (fyi, the sexy suit was made to measure in Hong Kong and cradles my unlocked package in a way that is very very kind to my genitalia sizing and the cage in those pants just looks absurd). It’s funny on the locking because it hasn’t felt odd or strange even, just like it is something that’s meant to be there. This part of Axel and I will continue to evolve and I am sure I will continue to see growth in his eyes which turns  me on like mad. This time I am allowing it to go wherever it wants, so we shall soon see.

Finally, for my US friends, I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving. Ours was very quiet with just my parents and Axel. While an excellent meal was had, Alzheimer’s is beginning to win the battle for my Mom’s brain. It’s hard to watch in many ways, though she is happy as fuck and is not scared about it at all. I miss the deep, insightful conversations we used to have more than anything as there was a day I was suspecting that she had read the blog and knew about Thumper, etc because she had done everything but out right endorse him at one point. This week there was period in our meal where I think she thought Axel and I were brothers, both her children, because she started to talk about how she was so proud her boys and raised two fine men, etc, but then saw our wedding photos on mantle and said “there’s not a girl in any of those pictures”. She processed that a bit and came back with “Drew, now how is your bisexual friend in Minnesota doing?” It’s funny what’s in there, but something stuck.

I didn’t mean to end this on a low as that is just something I consider to be part of life for the next few years and we will ride it as it happens. Hell, last Christmas she told us all that my Dad used to like threesomes, so that certainly makes one look forward to the holidays. 

Domestic travel this week so I should be around more.

I am long past due on an update to 2.0, but I just have not had it in me to write even though a lot is going on. As those of you who have followed me a long time know, I waffle on my switchiness with some things and times feeling very dominant and, then, very submissive at others. This is currently wreaking havoc in my head even though I do realize that I don’t actually ever have to pick just one. But, before we get into that, a bit of an update of sorts as since the last post I have seen Thumper (where I felt Dom-ish), met my Twitter legend friend Kiwi, and almost had a lunch date with my beautiful and beautifully talented Australian wife, Ferns, before I had to cancel to do a work thing, and am on my last day of a 3 week trip to the other hemisphere. Tomorrow I go home and I am so happy that the idea of 18 hours on one plane does not even phase me.

On the work front, it’s been interesting because two weeks ago I actually declined an invitation for a promotion because I have just reached a level in my career where I am happy and can stay where I am and be just fine. On the surface, we were not talking anything major salary wise as this would be a status thing with more staff under me, but I think I am done. This was a quick and easy decision, but I cannot explain how much it bothered me a few days later because my whole career has been about the next level and then the next level, etc. It felt a bit like giving up, even though I still have everything I wanted.

Around the same time, Axel’s domination game has stepped up even more than before and I find myself at a position where I feel I have to really fully embrace it or be the guy that wished forever and then wasn’t happy when he got it. I think, driven mostly by the fact that the thought of him in a dominant role, like a strict dominant role, now makes me more erect than I think a troop of naked firefighters walking through my house would, is a pretty good sign that I have drunk the Kool Aid and ready to lock the collar. In fact, while he likes me locked, he is often bothered by the fact that I can get hard in my devices, so a few says ago he ordered a new full cage from Steelwerks for me that he promises will have “special features” he has worked out with Chris. Do you know how hot that is even if he left me to pay for it? (that makes it hotter). He will always allow me my Dom side and has even embraced it, but all of this together has been that fear in the distance that has finally come out and its time to face it.

My hesitancy with this is something I don’t think I ever wanted to admit because I know it’s in my illogical brain versus the logical one, but there is still a part of me that feels if accept the full sub role with the man I love and even trained to be a Dom, that it will make me less of a man somehow.

Again, I know this is not the case as I can see sub after sub be able to be stunning, brilliant, masculine men and then yet a more stunning slave, but for me the image gets cloudy and I just cant see it, even though it seems to be quickly approaching on the horizon. My logical mind tells me that I can and will have it all (collar at home but collar key holder outside)  but that worries me as my Dom side will surely creep out.

So, I need advice (and not judgement on this) but how do you guys find the masculinity in submission?

 

 

 

 

Well, it’s been a few days since I decided to be more open and more “bloggy” and then I realized I had nothing real to say as the week was full of work and, this week, was in the most boring of places, so I just hunkered down in my Holiday Inn Expresses, and visited Tumblr as often as I could (which is futile when locked) and binged watched some TV (anyone watch A Million Little Things? – I’m man crushing on the personality of the bearded guy and the face of the one cheating on his wife).

The Tumblr part reminded me of a thought I had because I get a ton of questions about “how did you turn your husband kinky?” I would like to tell people the exact ingredients, but I am working on a secretive patented pill that, taken just once, will make the vanilla swallower into a kinky slave like real swallower or into the most demanding Dom ever, dependent on the wishes of the person who gives the soon to be transformed that wonderful pill.  It’s as easy as that. Take my pill and all will be good. Oh, and it will be a million dollars cause I am tired of flying.

Damn, wouldn’t that be nice? I have to say I don’t know where or how I would have gotten it, but twenty years ago when I met Axel I might have mortgaged my soul for such a pill, though being a switch makes me wonder if I’d have to have two and that would be impossible. But, fuck, I keep forgetting I am going to own the patent and the pills so I guess I could give give myself a good discount? Wonder if I’d have to blow me to do it?

Anyway, with Axel, he is now more kinky than ever and has a wildly Dom streak coming out of him that is incredibly hot to see, and experience. But, IT’S BEEN TWENTY YEARS. So, boys and girls, don’t get all pissed thinking that I am going to guide on how you too can turn your husband in just twenty years, because I will speed up the process.

In fairness to Ax, it’s likely only been about ten years since I truly opened up to him about my kinky side and that I wanted him to be part of that life. The first ten years were me pretending to be happily vanilla and that wasn’t working, but I do suspect you whipper snapper modern kinksters would get around to being more open about your feelings a bit faster than the 1990’s sweeping hair Drew did. Also, in the spirit of fairness, as some of you know, eight years ago Ax had an injury that required significant ortho work on his leg and hip that had a “mechanical failure” three years ago which caused all the work to have to be done again though removing the first caused a need for huge incisions through the thigh muscles, so that set him back many years each time as apparently thinking about me tied in sling locked in a thick collar didn’t make his bones heal faster or make him use his old lady with tennis ball walker any faster either. For some reason kinky Drew was not the top of his mind because “he hurt” and only could focus on himself (said with such a kidding sarcastic tone, btw). He’s not back to normal yet, but that normal is based on him pre-accident, pre-surgeries and that level of normal will likely never be back, so we have learned/are learning how to settle and make things fit the new us who are not nearly as flexible and a bit limited in what we can do. In all honesty, I am still afraid I will break him if I am aggressive, but logic tells me otherwise, so I try!

So, back to the original question of how I turned my vanilla, country, therapist husband into a kink machine? Well, I didn’t. While he is far from a kink machine (said a tad ironically as he has more metal in him than most of us), but he is in the territory now and that is a huge improvement. How we got him there, though, is likely the fear of so many people out there because it comes down to one single word…communication.

Yep, that fucking word that always makes everything better. This was a horrible thing for me as I realized he would never grow unless I explained to him what I liked, why I liked it, and what that act does to me emotionally. To do this, we created a private Tumblr and a few years ago I started reposting pictures of things I would like him to do to me like that and, when needed, explained how it could work (ie: take the chain in the upstairs closet, get an eye bolt out of the garage, hire seven Cuban dancers, fly Ferns to the US, etc, etc). Each day, when possible, we would discuss the pics and he would ask me what it made me feel like to imagine myself doing that, etc, etc. It was such a hard process for me as I fought a mix of embarrassment and a lack of empowerment but it was absolutely needed.

That Tumblr game continued for a bit until I stopped saying anything about the pics but just posting them anyway. What happened was he surprised me by responding  to each pic and telling me what HE thought I liked about it and how he could make it happen on his terms. Now, we each add pics and often lay in bed together with the iPad talking about them and, mostly, he doesn’t allow me to talk about them with him, but as he does he watches the cage rise and fall and, apparently, that’s all he needs to know about my “feelings” on the topic at hand (often literally). One night we went through 173 pictures and, while I thought I would die, my head swooned with excitement.

No, he’s not ready for kinky porn, but in another twenty years he might be ready for some geriatric exhibitions in our new retirement villa somewhere. But, finally, my advice? Just talk, talk and talk some more. Yes, it’s painful. Yes, it’s weird. But, it’s likely the biggest thing in the thousands of possible steps to makes your partner kinky that will get the fastest results.

Oh yeah, the open marriage helped too – spoiler alert!