Kinky Thoughts

Hello from California warmth. I am here following five days of snow and ice at home that left Axel and I with a bit of cabin fever. It was 3″of snow and that can shut down the South completely. I actually love to drive in it, but since my truck/suv is just a tad more than a month old, I chose not to risk anything and stay home like an old lady.

Anyway, the time home together was fantastic though I have no stories to share about amazing sex and sticky orgasms. However, I could tell you about the clean drawers and the organized closet, but that’s for another blog I’d never read. Axel and I kept up our bondage time and some additional kink here and there but we mostly just spent the time together just together and, thanks to HBO Go, watched all seven Harry Potter movies in a row -something I always have wanted to have the time to do. It’s amazing what you can forget about that magical kid.

Of course, all this togetherness led to a lot of conversation and he shared something with me that I thought was very interesting and might apply to a lot of people in the same situation as we are. It was basically kink fantasies and the fact that he used to feel very cheated when we were having sex because he always suspected that I was thinking about kink and kinky things in my head even if we were having the most salacious vanilla sex we could be having. He went on to say that these thoughts bothered him for years until he realized a few months ago that if Chris Pratt were naked in our bed I would not be satisfied until I had at least envisioned him in a collar and leash with a lock on his dick because he finally realized that that was just HOW I was wired when I was born and he was okay with that now.

Now, I never thought I was being unfaithful in the moment by flashing to Tumblr or recon in my mind because that fueled the fire and he always had much better ride because of it whether he knew it or not. I thought it was pretty common knowledge that most people are not 100 percent mentally faithful to the one they are fucking while they are fucking, though maybe I just assumed because I didn’t know it any differently? Kink, power exchange, and cute men in leather bits have always caught my attention inside my brain during sex or hell, during work, at the dentist, at Costco. I mean, it’s just how I thought it was. The only time I ever thought that odd was at a funeral but that was mostly because I thought I should have been more sad than I was.

For Ax, he told me that he thought I should be thinking about him that way and, in reality, I often do – now so more than ever, but I felt a bit stunned when this super intelligent man said that to me about me because he of all people should know how the brain works. In hindsight I should have fired back with, “what do you think about?” but I didn’t want to open that door because I would likely have to tell him that I am also thinking about the cable bill, where my seat is on the next flight, or even the snack I will have right after sex (I get hungry), though I suspect those things would have been easier for him to digest because he knew that side of me.

While this was a minor thing and we are not calling the divorce attorneys over Chris Pratt in a collar, the reality was that was the one area I don’t think I had considered in my quest to turn the most vanilla man kinky when I outed my leather bound self to him so many years ago. For those of us who have partners not on the same level of kink as we are, there are so many ways we work to educate them and convince them to play and try and, if you are like me, you get lucky and can find the kink within, but there is always something you didn’t think about even under the best of intentions.

Now none of this is ground breaking, but it’s just something I had never thought of in this situation. For the non kinky, being with a kinky partner has to be frustrating in that I suspect they feel they will never measure up at times and insecurities creep in at the weirdest spots. He says he’s over this now and has owned his insecurity about what I want to do in the kink world, but, for me, this was a gentle reminder that I need to make sure I remember all of him and his thoughts as I go down the leather lined path and not get excited so excited about his first few steps forward that I am literally dragging him by the leash to catch up, again.

Failure to launch. Literally.

As I think I mentioned in the last post, I had been locked on and off, though completely chaste, for about six weeks. This was probably the longest time I have ever gone without an orgasm and, though I wish I could tell you this was all at Axel’s direction, it really was just a combination of that, a month in Australia, the holidays and then, the worst of the worst, several days of my mother in law visiting which can put a chill on even the best laid plans to get laid. She’s just a joy. Her visits are always gifts that keep on giving as the week of discussions that follow about various things are again, enough to cool any and all erections.

But, I digress.

Anyway, last weekend the world settled a bit and Axel and I had a great conversation about the fact that he was proud that I had abstained for so long and that he would likely let me come Sunday afternoon provided I “was nice” all weekend and let him have his way – whatever way that was. We had a really nice weekend and on Sunday he was going to be meal prepping for the week and doing a lot in the kitchen that he enjoys and he told me that I should join him right before pulling out the sleepsack, hood and gag that he thought would be the appropriate “uniform” for me while he cooked. The game was set and for the next two hours or so I listened to him cook from my flat position on the big island in the back of the kitchen in the sack and the hood, though no gag because I had a small cough and a bit of congestion happening.  It was so nice and such a zen like experience and then I felt him unzipping the bag and strategically re-zipping it where just my titanium clad dick was on the outside. That went on a bit and I heard some fumbling and then, there it was, the key on the screw, and then the key on my balls, and then the key on the screw, and then the key on my bladder, and then finally, the key found it’s S slot and in two twists I was free (for those who don’t know, the Steelwerks keys are in a S pattern and are tiny keys and tiny screws, escaping is impossible and release requires a bit of patience and good eyesight – neither of which Ax has).

THIS was going to be the climax of all climaxes because it had been so long and, while I was still in the bag, he took the cage off, cleaned me up and bit and started jacking me to a point of pure pleasure, but sexual release was not happening. That said, I have never been a quick ejaculator. Be it years of SSRI’s or just me, I am not one that will orgasm fast and, while this is generally a pleasure for my partners (except that time Thumper yelled “God dammit, come already” as apparently even his ass can get tired) it’s always frustrated me a bit because I knew it meant I would never have a second career in porn. So, Axel backed off, unzipped and unhooded me and let me try to take care of business. I tried and I tried and I thought of every sexy happy thing I could and though I was hard as a rock, the climax was just not happening. I kept going but I was at the point where I was physically exhausted and my legs were cramping like mad (I somehow engage my thigh muscles big time when I ejaculate – which does help explain their size) but it was just not happening. Ax turned on his therapist voice, a voice I tend to hate because it literally is a different voice with a weird soothing Southern accent, and kept telling me I was tired and that this was okay and to go shower, relax and we could try again later. I felt horrible because he didn’t get to come either and I tried to get him to, but being the gentleman dom at that moment, he sent me scurrying upstairs gear in hand to shower.

I was devastated and even though my rational side could explain it all – cold medicine, sore legs from leg day, etc – the failure to perform killed me. The funny thing is it wasn’t erectile dysfunction really because, trust me, that was STILL there, but just the utter and complete prostate betrayal in my mind. I was so ready to trade it in. I showered, put on my comfy flannel pants and came downstairs ready to be locked again and he said no that we would try later and to go do “my things”. As anyone who knows me knows, I do not like or accept failure in myself, so I thought I would make sure it happened and I got into the fridge and took one of the Cialis pills we have that Ax’s docs have given him after his accident and surgeries. I had never taken one before but thought it would be great and surely would solve this issue.

So, I took it and went about the night knowing that thanks to modern medicine I would have a steel erection and life would be good. I WOULD COME and it would be magical. Soon after taking it the penis went into a semi state that was actually quite fun to play with and any trigger of anything would get to full mast at any time. But, about that point I started coughing a bit more, was more sniffly and had the dam flushing and headache the pill causes, and had to decide whether the Advil Cold and Sinus would mix well with the blue pill (yes, technically another drug) and decided to risk it. I wasn’t feeling great but god damm I was going to have sex whether or not it killed me. It was going to be so good and as I took him up to bed later, hand in hand all romantic like for about six steps since I walk faster than him, I still had my mind set on sex and sex I had. The most unromantic, transactional sex ever, but my six weeks was over and, like Thump had always told me, it wasn’t that pleasurable and kinda hurt, but it was done!

I slept, got on a plane, and then crashed and am writing this from the Michigan hotel room where I have quarantined myself because I have the flu. Full on fucking flu. What’s worse, that pill will stay with you about 36 hours, so I spent the day coughing, sniffling, dying all with a magical erection that just would go away and then come back the minute I saw something interesting. It was like 8th grade all over again. All day. But, that finally went away and I am better now and will likely see daylight today.  I had never been so excited to officially get sick because that HAD to explain my performance issue, at least in my mind and that’s all that matter.

Who knows, but the clock was reset…







Investing in Denial

January 2018, my first post in a new year that has so much potential.

Of course, in 2018, I am going to eat better, work out more, stay naked longer, and, practice more of what I preach regarding male chastity while trying my best to have something locked around my dick every day of the year – though exceptions have to apply for some of my travel to places like China and similar where I walk a very straight line through customs not wanting the risk of discovery, even on the devices that are not actually detected such as the Schandmaske.

As I have mentioned before, I have a new device on order from Steelwerks that will replace the original cage, the Axel, which I sold last month to a now very secure man south of here. With the life I lead, I was looking for something simple without the extra tiny screws and without a scrotal ring as my ginger skin is always a bit more sensitive than the average unblessed person – the non ginger. What I have ordered is something,  called the Crucible 2.0, which is a fitted titanium cage that is being crafted around a model of my actual dick and will look very similar to mine in clothes and the 6,372 pictures I will take and tweet the first month I get it. Like the Schandmaske that I adore, this one will be secured via my PA and a locking hollow barbell which allows zero escape chances while also allowing me to piss in a straight shot like my friends who didn’t have a hole punched in their dick for fun, like me.

When I wrote about getting the new cage and posted the prototype photo, most agreed that the cage is absolutely beautiful and will be yet another piece of art like the Axel and all of the Steelwerks’ cages. However, one comment I got in person one day caught my attention about why I would want to spend the money that a Steelwerks’ cage commands again versus buying cheap from an internet toy store and pocketing the extra dough.  I laughed that off for a few reasons but mostly because it came from one of my friends who drives an Escalade (as if he couldn’t have bought the Tahoe and pocketed the extra dough??) and that it’s my dough and, thankfully I am in a position to be able to have choices. However, the core factors behind the choice is something that got me thinking about Steelwerks and the other niche manufacturers of cages similar to Steelwerks who now fight every day to make sure their work isn’t pirated – while also constantly defending the cost of custom manufacturing.

First, about the ebay and amazon knock off cages I see guys so excited about buying or trying. I could go through the whole thing about safety, quality of materials, and the question about if you really want to lock your most precious asset into something that may or may not rust, bend, or pinch but I won’t do that this time. What I will say is that these cages, in most cases, are often a complete copy of one from Steelwerks or the other companies that make speciality designs and by buying them you are basically stealing the science and design behind them which can ultimately endanger the entire industry we enjoy so much. I get that guys want to try these things out and realize that nothing will change this and I will even admit to having bought a few myself years ago, but I would just hope that the guys who do buy the knockoff XXX realize what they have and then purchase from the actual manufacturer of XXX when the knockoff inevitably fails them.

Second, and less soapbox like, is that the devices from “off the shelf” that are manufactured by the actual companies that make them like Holy Trainer, Rigid, and the others are all excellent devices and serve a great purpose. For me, these devices were a way for me to know that I wanted to make the investment in a custom device and, once I did that, there really was no going back. The best analogy is one I have used before about the BMW vs the Mitsubishi and how they will ultimately both get you the same place and serve the same purpose. However, the “ultimate driving machine” BMW will get you there with style, safety, and a quality of materials, craftsmanship, and assembly that even the best Mitsubishi could never do. I remember the first time I drove a BMW when I was in college and I was immediately hooked because of those things (and the cute guy letting me drive it) and will never forget the way it just held the road and felt when I gave it a throttle. However, at that point in my life I had a budget that only allowed me to enjoy the driving pleasure of a used beige Ford Escort with the exciting 4 speed manual transmission. Even though mine was equipped with a cassette tape player AND a rear window defroster, I still longed for the feel of that BMW because I knew that was what I wanted to feel. I think it’s the same thing with cages because, once you feel the way a custom device fits, how it physically feels, and see the detail that goes into the design, the shape, and the materials it’s addicting in a very good way.

Of course, just like with premium car manufacturers there are levels of custom and cost and, in my opinion, you find what works best for you (and or your key holder) and you run with it. That is why Steelwerks is where I choose to invest in my denial.

Bottom line, you get what you pay for and to my friend with the Escalade, I look forward to waving my titanium penis in your face. But, here’s to 2018 and all of the adventures we can have within it before the big button might be pushed. Have a great year and thanks for sticking with me.




Goodbye 2017 and Christmas with Mom

As I write, Axel and I are saying good bye to 2017 with a big pot of soup, homemade bread, Netflix, and lots of blankets as, even down south, today is struggling to even reach 15 degrees F. I’m thrilled with this lack of activity day because it’s just been one of those years where I feel like I haven’t seen him nearly enough and I have no desire to spend New Year’s Eve with strangers or at someone else’s house.

I have a lot of sexual and kink regrets over the last year and I have made mental resolutions to fix those this year and to even get back to blogging regularly. The regrets are not even worth discussing because they are the same ole same ole ones, but this was a year I needed to spend focusing on the new job, my aging family, and rebuilding some friendships that were in need of attention.

The travel was amazing and, though I can’t specifically mention everywhere I went for work, I did get two bucket list items done with one being able to walk on the Great Wall of China alone. For those who are interested in my geek side, I thought I would share my 2017 travel stats (maybe as an excuse for not many posts).

2017 Flight Stats:

138 flights (26 international, 10 intercontinental, 112 domestic)
31 Airports
10 Airlines
30 Aircraft

9 countries

5 continents

151,275 miles (around the world 6.07 times)

Time in Air: 16 days, 1 hour and 25 minutes

However, as a way of closing out the 2017 blogging season, I thought I would share one more story from my mother that changed the tone of Christmas Day but gives just a bit more insight into where my kinky genes derive.

To set the scene for those of you new to this, my mother is the most amazing woman in the world. Over the last ten years she has gotten more and more free about discussing sex, love and life and would often, in my mind, try to choose the most awkward way to express it. Four years ago when this blog was new, she often commented on me and Thumper in ways that made me think she knew things beyond what she should. Unfortunately, the last 18 months have seen an Alzheimer’s diagnosis and, though it ebbs and flows a bit, we have seen a pretty steady decline in the day to day things.

But, but, Christmas morning she was on a roll. As a family we had gathered for breakfast at her house with me, Ax, sister, sister’s husband, and various other old people. As my parents often keep Stella (my dog), my sister asked my Mom if Stella slept with she and Dad when she was there. I thought it was a rather silly question but my mom answered immediately with “Oh yes, yes, it’s a great little threesome in the bed. You know, like the old days cause your father….” . At this point she was stopped by my 80 year old Dad who had launched himself out of his chair (faster than I had seen in years) toward her saying her name with that “Dear God please fucking stop talking” look on his face.  It was so funny and so classic and one of those moments where I just thanked God that I am part of this family and have lived long enough to watch the WASP’s lose their country club wings. Aside from the immediate texts to Thumper and Mack, the best part of this was watching Axel and my brother in law squirm as they are rarely around when these things get said.

Happy New Year, people. See you soon,

Parallel Me

G’day from Down Under. There have been several interesting things this week in the mailbox including one that offended me and one that intrigued me. I will write about the offensive one later as I am still processing my thoughts, but the intriguing one involves a guy named Niles who contacted me who is “me” in a relationship very similar to Thumper and Belle.  I was in flight when I got this and responded with a “wow, give me some time” and, so, well, Niles, here is your response for the world to see! (fyi, I did clear this with Niles)

He wrote:

“Drew, stumbling upon your blog I was blown away and spent almost 12 hours reading it from start to finish and then moved on to Thumper’s where I am still engrossed. I say this because I am also the third partner in a situation like yours and need your advice. To start, I am 33 years old, live in London, and am married to a man who let’s me explore my kinks which are chastity and control release, so I am a locked bottom at home and mostly in a mature metal cage or a behind barz full belt. My husband hates fucking and just uses me orally and, as you know, a locked boy needs to be fucked, so he has let me explore. About six months ago I met a heterosexual couple in Berlin where the husband is submissive to his wife but has a strong dom bisexual side that he likes to explore with men. We bonded quickly and, within days, he was holding my key and giving me orders and I visited and got fucked in ways that I had NEVER experienced. It was going so well and then it wasn’t. He disengaged and lost contact with me and a few weeks later was right back on it with immediate orders and demands. I, of course, immediately responded by doing those only to have them go away again. This has been a cycle and I am worried that I contact too much or not enough but he has the only keys to my belt and it makes me worry. I am not in love with him, but I miss him and then worry about missing him, etc. Is this normal? In reading your posts it’s like you two became boyfriends instantly with both spouses happy and I am just not getting this. Did I make a mistake?”

So, I have to laugh and really call out my gay self here because I feel like Carrie Bradshaw with this question and even found myself reading it hearing Sarah Jessica Parker’s voice. Luckily, that delusional side didn’t last long so here is my response, Niles.

No, I don’t think you made a mistake at all because in whatever time you have had you admit you have gained experiences you didn’t have before and have had incredible sex. Putting this to my situation, yours doesn’t sound that different than mine aside from time and the reverse roles. In the beginning, when Drew met Thumper we were giddy, I traveled there as much as I could, he bent over as much as he could, we chatted, we talked, we irritated our spouses because we got caught up in the newness. That lasted awhile and then faded and the boyfriend word was never used again. But, we continued doing all of the above, but just in lesser intensities.

Now, you hit on something Thump and I have talked a lot about too in that, in your case, I translate to the weeks you say he is very much on to you as a Dom and even micromanaging your tasks, etc.  I might get slammed for this, but, on my end, in my head I call those “Thumper’s gay weeks” and I have learned that they are what they are. He and I will go strong and, as you say, then we don’t, and it’s usually not my call despite my Dom side. In my head, I just accepted that because I, like you, am married to a man, gay sex and discussions of male on male things is common place. And, when that week of kinky male on male sexual acrobatics is done, you and I go home to something that looks like we just had, even if the actions are sadly not the same.

I am not sure I have actually discussed this with Thump this way, but when he would leave me after a sex date or at the end of one of those challenge weeks, he went home to something that looked WAY different with kids, females, etc. I honestly can’t imagine the switching back and forth that has to go on, even though I have witnessed some of it first hand, in his mind and admire the fuck out of him for being able to do that at times.

Now, I get where you are coming from because, in full bluntness, at the beginning of our relationship I would often feel a bit used (as did he is a completely different way – HA) when suddenly I wasn’t in vogue at the moment, but I learned to adjust to that and knew it was never personal. Our friendship remained tight. In fact, right now he and I are in one of those zones where we are not talking much and I would bet he doesn’t know where I am this week, but I also know that if I needed him he’d answer the phone and, if I really wanted him to go take his underwear off just to feel a bit used, he might bitch a bit, but he’d do it because, whether we talk or even act it, he’s still submissive to me and after four years there is no longer any wavering on that fact (that was mostly my issue but better now).

So, all this to wrap up in a sentence really means that if you are enjoying it and the Dom is good to you when he is using you, just adapt and give it time. I would assume since he holds your keys you have to have some regular contact, and, if you don’t that is an entirely different type post, but find your ground rules and go with it. Thumper and I were not afraid to communicate our needs to each other, ever, and that continues to shape our friendship when and when it doesn’t have benefits.

As I wrap this up, the thought just occurred to me that are you afraid to say how you feel BECAUSE you are in the sub role? If that is the case, write back because there will be 100 comments to you about how you should never feel that way.

Kink Intervention

I always thought that at some point in my life I would be the subject of an intervention. I figured it would be because I had developed some weird obsession with a substance, a person or an object, but never did I think I needed to be intervened based on something I wasn’t doing.

See, the week started out okay which was nice because over the last few weeks I have been to China, Hong Kong, Korea, Canada, and on both coasts of the US. It was fascinating in some senses as I got a private tour of the Great Wall of China and ate all kinds of interesting things, much to my trainer’s dismay (I cancelled this week so he won’t see though so all is okay). But, in all that, I got tired and distracted and put my job above everything else in my life, Axel, friends, kink and Bolt and Thumper who may not even recognize me next time I see me.

Earlier this week; however, I had a work assignment for three days in Montreal, birthplace of my metal peni (I have a few so I think that is the plural) and so that meant that I got to spend time with Steelwerk’s Chris and his amazing bride, Mrs. Steelwerks. We had some great times, great talks and, as evening one wrapped, he said “Dude, make time for me for lunch tomorrow. I’m paying“. Well, I was able to move things around and make lunch happen and for him to volunteer to pay, I thought something was up, but decided not to worry too much.

The next morning I did my work thing, stopped be the Steelwerks shop where I made a bet that I was probably one of the first to wear a business suit and tie while sitting in that amazing antique barber/dentist chair. He gathered his things and we set out on a walk to find pizza, my favorite food ever. After we placed our orders, he turned to me as said, “Duuuuuuuude, we need to talk. You have lost your kink and we have to get you back on track“. Now, while Thumper and I still have a few things that we do here and there we don’t discuss, he was right and it hit me immediately, though it also hit me how loud he was talking, which was funny to everyone but me. Anyway, he proceeded to say “you work too much, you don’t have any fun, and you are not wearing any of the amazing things you have to keep your dick from getting hard. Don’t be wasting the Steelwerks, dude”. He was, of course, right and I had zero excuses that didn’t include the W word.

While I would like to tell you that then cancelled my whole day while he texted a beautifully built, 6’5, blond haired former underwear model turned Master to immediately come lock me into a sleep sack and ship me off to a dungeon, he didn’t and I didn’t cancel my day either. But, what we did do was discuss why I was not wearing the cages and what I would need to make sure I did since I have such a weird life, what impacted that, and how he could design something that fit all the things I was looking for in a chastity device. This was the right tactic because, when I have one on, I feel that kink vibe whether I am working or playing, but it’s there, so that always charges me up.

We went back to the shop and I fell absolutely in love with a new device he has been making for a few select clients that takes the beautiful shape of the Crucible and blends it with the practicality of the Shandmaske which then creates the “CrucMaske 2.0 Limited Edition from Steelwerks” which he lovingly engraves on the underside of every penis. It’s beautiful and, by the way, not really called that. I think he calls it the Crucible 2 while I will likely call mine Axel 2.0 because I will be selling Axel as a way to help make this happen.

Pictures of this device are as follows, but it’s basically like creating a titanium skin for your dick and locking it down through the PA. While rumor has it straight and/or curious men can fuck women with it, they certainly will not be able to seal the deal, making it even more so frustrating. Of course, the good news is they can drink that frustration off in an airport bar and this is 100% TSA safe and goes through both scanners like a charm. However, making it is complicated and fun and it starts with a semi-custom 3D printed mold of the cage which is also delivered with it for those times when you just want a black dick, cause that’s the only color he has which I suspect is really just for the jokes. Mine fit amazingly well and after wearing it a bit I succumbed and placed the order for a near Christmas delivery.

In the pictures you will see the final device as it should look (as worn by whoever now owns it) and a 3D model,


which I am wearing some though not long term as it’s not the bio resin that is officially supposed to be used against skin. It’s perfectly fine and likely very close to the 3D devices, you will see I was just planning ahead for my pants and love the sneaky look of it!

So, with that, I accepted his intervention and will be back and hope to be as strong as ever. Maybe.


“The Bisexual of the North”, a conversation with Mom.

It’s been awhile since I have written a Mom post, but it’s been awhile since we have been able to have conversations alone when she was in a good place. As long time readers know, I am a lucky bastard because I have one of the best mothers on the planet. She is incredibly accepting, witty, and almost intuitive as she used to discuss me and Thumper in a general way as if she had read the blog. However, as you also know, a bit over a year ago she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and the last 14 months have been an interesting ride through medications, therapists, and neurologists trying to give her the best of care while preventing too much mental slippage to happen as rapidly as it used to. In her case, we’ve been lucky in that while the first two, major medicines did not work for more than a few weeks, the combo she is on now, though wildly expensive even after insurance, is working and there are days when there are more glimpses of her old self combined with the new. Today was one of those days and I have smiled all day because, for the most part, old Mom was present.

With my travel so heavy lately it’s been awhile since I was able to really just chill with my parents and spend more than an hour as my time is generally spent explaining, again, the correct input for “the Netflix” while explaining that it’s not the same as “the Hulu”. Today was “technology Sunday” which meant that I needed to take the time to update the OS of both of their iPhones, iPads, watches, and, somehow, their car, so we had a lot of time to just talk while we watched the little apple gears spin.

We were making small talk when suddenly, out of nowhere, I hear, “Drew, how are your boyfriends doing? You never talk about going to Minnesota anymore”. Wow. She just fired it out right there, though I didn’t know what she meant by the plural. At this point my Dad decided something in the yard needed his attention – even though it was raining – as he is always rolling his eyes when she goes outside the lines he thinks is not “proper talk”. So, I decided I should just go with it and say “oh, he’s fine, we have not been in the same country a lot lately so I haven’t been up there“. She looked pretty forlorn and said, “you know, you have to put yourself out there as relationships take effort. I am sure Axel would agree.” Now, the Axel comment was less about the open thing and more about how she likes to think his role as a therapist will always back her points – any points. So, I said “yes, Mom, I agree, but what kind of relationship do you think I have with him?“. It was funny because she looked at me like “you don’t know?” which made me melt because even though she is just in her early 70’s, she has shrunken and had the look of a child in her eyes and then she said “well, he’s your friend, isn’t he, or did I mess that up?” I confirmed that which was followed by “now he’s a bisexual, correct, from the North?“. Again, I confirmed which was followed by “and his wife knows and allows this, right?“. I was so wondering where this was coming from and, apparently so was she because the conversation paused for a bit due to a dramatic scene on “Gibbs, from the Netflix (NCIS btw)” and I went about my updating knowing that based on prior experience she might be done. Then, she said, “you know, Drew, I really admire his wife. In fact, I just like her. She’s apparently intelligent and understands that his sexuality is just who he is, right? I mean, good for them. You and Axel should learn from them (“like, WTF Mom?”). You tell them I said hello” (you know, as if she has met them multiple times).

Now, “the bisexual from the North” was really making me giggle (though I am replacing “from” with “of” to make it Game of Thrones-ish), but I was not enjoying this conversation at all. The iPads were not even at 50% so I was stuck. Stuck. Mentally I was working out what I would say should this conversation come back to me or worse, me and Axel and sex, but it didn’t.

Well, it didn’t until the masochist in me couldn’t stand the fact she had said “boyfriends”, so you know I had to ask. However, the mood had past and the conversation was over, (though I suspect she was talking about Mack in Australia, but who knows) and we spent the next 20 minutes coming up with response lines for the ladies in her card group who insist that Trump should be respected. She will never remember what we came up with, but we did have fun coming up with them, including the phrase “well, fuck you, Mildred” She will never actually say that to Mildred, but I am certainly enjoying the vision of her doing so. Moms.



Meeting Thumper

Earlier today, Thumper posted a piece about the nine year anniversary of Denying Thumper and his reflections back. It’s funny because, as I have been in a bit of a post drought due mostly to just coming to terms with the fact I have one of the weirdest work schedules in the world and finding time to just write, these days, is becoming more and more hard to manage. However, I will continue to do my best.

Even before his post I was thinking that this weekend will mark the three year point since I met Thumper. As long time readers of each blog know, he and I immediately hit it off like Trump and a big bucket of KFC with a side of hate. We embarked on the boyfriend term because we didn’t, at the time, know how to describe a D/s friendship, though a bit over a year later we dropped the term for stupid Hallmark reasons that made us think we needed to do more for each other than we could/would. Now, we don’t really use a word to classify our fairly steady D/s relationship because we are simply incredibly weird friends who share some incredibly intimate moments, you know, often with thousands of people watching. These days we both know that I pretty much own (ie: sublet) his ass at most times as we have discovered more and more that he is happier when he has that control, though it’s subtle and not very public for multiple reasons, but it works for us and that’s the important factor.

I say the above because meeting Thumper changed my life in so many ways that I would never have expected. I mean, yes, we all have people in our life that we meet that lead us to new things or better friendships, but rarely does one blog about meeting that person and have a running document chronicling the whole relationship. For me, meeting him represented a freedom that I knew I needed but didn’t know how to get as he allowed me to accept my Dom side and grow it to a point where I think I may have even surprised him, but it allowed me to open myself in general to a whole new side of myself – one that now contains steel in my penis and titanium around it.

The thing is, meeting him didn’t just limit itself to he and I as, because of the accidental start of this blog, I have met two people who I consider to be my absolute best friends, one boy who I now have collared (fyi – Bolt is almost back in the country) and look forward to watching and helping him find a forever Sir, and multitudes of other people who have come into my life as a direct result of that one time I raised my hand and volunteered to loan a bisexual man my penis. It’s a benefit of non-monogamy not in the brochures, but it’s been a huge blessing to me.

All of that is wonderful and I cannot tell you how grateful I am for that, but one of the bigger things is that meeting Thump allowed me to find myself and, even more importantly, accept myself and all those dirty thoughts I have in the chain aisle at Home Depot. It’s made my marriage stronger as the “shame” of being open dissolved and Axel and I have learned to embrace our particular style of open after learning that the meaning is absolutely different for each couple and, well, for each “other” as we have found our rules vary based on trust, openness and the particular adventure each of us is chasing.

I also think this was good for Thumper for many of the same reasons. We’ve all seen those changes too and, kink aside, I am particularly proud of the fact that as two middle aged men rapidly going through life, we have been able to thrive moving forward with humor, pride, and nakedness, of course.

So, I think the lesson learned here is never be afraid to raise your hand. You never know what will become of you when you do!

Here’s to the upcoming year four and, like Thump often says when he drops me off at the airport, it’s been a good ride thus far.

Dear Nick…

Hello from the other side of the world. Still.

The past few weeks have been constant travel and very little time for fun and, while I have had lots of ideas of what to write about, the ability to sit my ass down and type for 30 minutes had just escaped me. However, it’s a beautiful Saturday afternoon here and I have a nice seat in front of a giant open window and thought I would give it a go. Actually, I received an email from a bloke named Nick and, while I will only publish a bit of it, the entire message really spoke to me as I know exactly where he is coming from.

To summarize the beginning of the email, he and his husband have been together exactly the same amount of time and me and Axel. Like us, one is more kinky than the other and, unlike us, they have not really found the opportunity to discuss this yet, especially the idea that Nick might like to have his penis enclosed in metal like all the other cool guys. In his message, he asked the following questions that made me realize I may not have covered all of these before on the blog, so, I thought I would just answer him here in the public format.

In asking his questions, Nick first mentions that he is feeling a bit awkward in even asking some of these, mostly because, I assume, they seem so personal to ask a stranger. So, before I officially answer, the reality is I have put my life, albeit veiled, and my penis out on the interwebs for scrutiny, so nothing is really off the wall question wise.

So, with that, Nick asks:

First, how did the topic of an open marriage come up between you and your husband?

It’s funny because I really don’t remember how it actually came up specifically, but know it centered around my desire to understand my kinky side more and a bit of frustration we each had with each other over certain attractions we each had that we didn’t share with the other. I know we never really sat each other down and said “I want an open marriage” but the topic came up one day when we were discussing two sets of friends who were both couples, and the fact that each pretended to have an amazingly glorious perfect monogamous union, when we each knew that all four of them were fucking multiple people on the side, allegedly without the other’s knowledge. Our conversation was not as much judgmental as it was a curiosity about why they did it and what they got out of hiding and pretending to be perfect. I remember us saying that if, and it was a big if, we ever did decide to be open that we would be very honest with each other and own our openness. Of course, at that moment while we were having the conversation, in our mind it was almost like we were just saying this in the same vein as we would have talked about someone like Trump being able to win a national election, because, you know, there was simply no way that would ever be possible.

That was about two years before we actually opened the relationship but I remember that during those two years both of us actually would bring it up time and time again to the point that one day we just started talking about why we were always talking about it. Now, remember that my husband is a therapist so these little clues were eating him alive and one day we just started talking about why we felt we had to miss out on things just in the name of monogamy. It was a long conversation that seemed to take three weeks, but in that time we each admitted we had wanted to know what it was like to sleep with others and that since we were both relatively young and inexperienced when we found each other, that we might be missing something and what would it hurt if we did take advantage of a select opportunity should it appear.

The reality is that it all started because of kink, but kink wasn’t the complete reason. He wanted someone with a drive higher than mine and I wanted either someone I could completely abuse OR someone who would completely abuse me. As this developed, we began discussing our preferences about what each wanted to be told, how each would inform the other, and if there were any boundaries that we could not cross, such as someone in our home or, worse, in our bed. The original rules were so strict and, in reality, not possible, but we prided ourselves on our progressiveness and began exploring apps, interests and the like. The irony in this is that I really thought I was agreeing for him, because his sex drive was (before his accident and surgeries) much higher than mine, I just assumed he would have boyfriends and I would stay home and be a happy cuckold watching him date while loving the fantasies I had yet to tell him about. Then, in the ultimate of ironies, Thumper asked for a volunteer, I raised my hand, and about four years later, here we are.

Did either of you feel hurt, or disappointed, that the question was being asked?

No, never in the question of the openness, or the need for it, at all. I mean, in many ways we were and are proud of our abilities to navigate complex situations and relationships. However, as we started down the road, yes, we did hurt each other’s feelings at times. At the start of my relationship with Thumper, I texted him once during what was, unknown to me, scared family time and the sparks flew. And, when he met a couple, a time thoroughly documented earlier in this blog, I was weirdly jealous and, in many ways, in the wrong big time. But, these were minor growing pains and I think something to be expected in any similar situation.

Now, we don’t have much of that at all, though as we got more open in spirit, I think we have both found finding someone else to be less and less of a priority, though I still have experiences I want to have, still have Thumper’s ass, and Bolt’s locked cock.

Then, how did kinks come up and how did those conversations go at first?

Kinks were always the great unspoken thing in our relationship from the first month. The same week I met Axel, I also met a dreamy young Dom in Los Angeles who I had a session with where I was tied up, suspended upside down, and given a very brief session in discipline. The entire thing lasted two hours, but he was so good that, back in the day, he used his very modern digital camera and took photos of me and then was kind enough to put them on a 3.5″ floppy diskette that I took home and treasured. About a month after Axel moved in with me, he found the diskette and confronted me about the crazy pictures he saw. At this point we were very new to each other, had 30″ waists, sweeping hair, and zero confidence in each other. When he saw the pics, he didn’t know what they were as he was so vanilla but he never judged me about them, though he did worry I would leave him eventually for my kink. We had a long discussion about it then, settled down into a pattern without it for a few years, and then one day I ordered a sleep sack on eBay and we “had the talk”. He vowed to help me explore, to help understand it, and, now, many, many years later, I would almost consider him nearly as kinky as me – nearly.

So, Nick, I saw all these thing to tell you that if you feel it, go for it. Life only happens once and we are truly two people who can say, with many many years of analysis, we did figure a way to love each other, play with each other and other’s, and have a good time in the process.

Trusting Muggles

If you are like me, you have your muggle side and your very dirty fun perverted non muggle side. While, occasionally these two may cross paths, the majority of your life is spent in one or other other world. In my case, I have new muggle friends who came from the perverted side and, after thorough vetting and lots of conversations in advance, these people are now part of my general life including muggle Facebook, muggle Instagram, corporate announcements, and wonderfully muggly pictures of Axel, Stella, my Mom and more showing up every time they log in because I am a social media whore (though nothing like Thumper cause who has the time?).

In arriving at that status with me, these people did not apply, they did not sign confidentiality agreements, nor did they have to pass a test of any kind. They were and are simply people where there was a mutual connection, mutual trust, and a desire to be part of the bigger life which, in many ways, has made my journey so complete. Knowing that these doctors, lawyers, and mechanics who, by day, do boring things, and by night, do all sorts of fun fetish things with some even hoping they will actually be allowed to touch their penis this year, make me a better person, all around. As I said, the trust is mutual too as I didn’t have to do anything to have them reciprocate with their muggleness either.

All of this is wonderful, though, until it isn’t and I thought I would write this as just a general reminder to everyone who is entrusted with the vanilla, that you have a responsibility to always, and I mean, always, keep your end of the bargain. The case in point comes from one of my kink friends who, last week, posted a picture of his wife and her new car on his muggle Facebook innocently showing how happy she was and how beautiful the two of them (her and the car) were together. Like most posts by him, it was popular and his kids commented about riding in it, her coworkers pretended to be jealous, and most people liked it simply being happy for them. It was a great post until his one non muggle friend, who was clearly not thinking, made a comment akin to “dude, that whole you being a cuck is really working out for her. You may never get your dick uncaged again”. Yep, he did it and apparently went on about his day as if he wasn’t the biggest douche bag in the world while my friend and his wife raced to see who could get to a keyboard faster in an effort to delete the post, unfriend him, and wait to see who or what may have seen it in the interim. That exchange led to a very terse series of phone calls that afternoon and, while no apparent real damage was done, that sense of trust was violated and he has made it more tough for all new non muggles who follow for them and, frankly, me as well.

I get the fact that the dude wasn’t thinking for a few minutes. I mean, I am the guy that once posted a picture of my Steelheart, luckily empty, on my own Facebook page before calling Thumper in a panic, from a meeting, a few minutes later promising all kinds of sexual favors if he would log in and delete that for me. It’s going to happen to all of us in some way or another so I would advise creating an emergency plan now – mine is Thumper has my passwords because I trust him and know he would be fast enough (Axel, in a panic, would forget how to even sign on) to help me in that embarrassing spot and/or be prepared for the reality of the situation.

So, all that to say, a reminder that if you are a trusted muggle, never forget the responsibility you have and, if you are going to betray that trust, with me especially, do it in a grand style cause it will certainly be the last time.