Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Tis the season

Tis the season to break out the warm clothes. To stuff our faces with holiday food. And to whip the asses of those deserving, craving or desiring. WEG. Over the holiday weekend I was thinking about some spanking. Just good ole fashioned, over the knee, bare bottom spanking. WOW... Just typing those words has ignited a fire in me. How many of you feel that fire in the pit of your stomach from reading those words? A good lot of you I am sure. Well that brings me to the subject of this posting. True and genuine people.

I have a major issue with shallow, closed minded people. Maybe I have a trust issue. Maybe I am TOO cautious. Either way, I am just me. I tend to look at a person and question them in my head. "Are you being sincere? Can I REALLY trust you?" The way I look at it is this. Actions speak louder then words. Don't tell me one thing and then act the opposite. Don't tell me that you are into getting spanked when you are only looking for a soft friendly swat on the ass. Don't tell me that personality is more important. And don't fucking judge me when you don't fucking know me. Ok, so maybe there is going to be more venting and getting shit off my chest then talking about people.

What really bugs the fucking shit out of me is people who don't have the fucking guts to say what is on their mind, what they are feeling etc. Many of you know me personally and know I have this uncanny ability to read people, many times know what they are thinking etc. Well, it is also a curse. I know when someone is not into me, when under their breath they are cussing me, or when they are just being cruel. I try to be a nice guy, want to be everyones friends. Love being the guy that people turn to in a time of need. Not physically but emotionally too. Many times I offer to be a shoulder to lean on. Provide an ear to talk too. Even offer my arms for warm, friendly, protective, life escaping hugs. if you don't want to take me up on that, then that's fine. Your choice. I made the offer. One friend recently told me she just isn't into me. That's fine. Thanks for the honesty. BUT. Don't fucking sit there and tell me you are. Don't fucking sit there and say, "I need time to myself, to work through some issues." Then a week later find you telling everyone, "I am under consideration, or I am not taken." Don't fucking lie to me. JUST DON'T FUCKING DO IT!!!!!!!

Am I bitter? Some. Am I acting childish? Possibly. Do I care? Fuck no. However, I am expressing myself. I am telling you how I feel. People very often tell me I am a hard person to read. Good. I don't want to be easy. I don't want to be transparent. I don't want to be a pushover. I want to be that man of mystery. I want to be that intriguing male dominant figure. I want to be the guardian. I want to be the protector. What I don't want to be is lied to. Disrespected or even insulted or made fun of. Last time I checked I consider myself an adult and wish to be treated as such. I will always respect others, that is until you cross me. More times the naught, I will just walk the other way if you cross me, but sometimes I do fight back.

Case in point I was recently at a sporting event and a fan from the other team decided they wanted to pick a fight with me because of who I support and which team color I wear. I was telling my uncle about this and he laughed and asked me if the guy pissed himself once he realized who he threatened. I don't know is he pissed himself, but I do know I connected with a good heavy elbow to his chest when he shoved me from behind. I do know the little fucking asshole ran away instead of staying and fighting. I can and will fight back from time to time. I will stoop low and become an animal.

Right now, at this point in my life, I do feel the walls closing in a little. My natural instinct is to push back. To swell up. To fight back. Its a fight or flight thing. Its an eat or be eaten response. Right now I will not idly sit back and allow others to push me to test their limits. I don't have fucking time for that.

Let me tell you a little story about a boy who at a young age grew up too fast. A boy who at 13, lost his step father to an auto accident. This boy had a lot going for him. Good grades in school. Good athlete. Good friends. Lovable kid. Hell, even had just gotten his first kiss just before the holidays. Winter set in, a long cold winter. School was closed for 2 straight weeks. And on the last night before his step dad was killed, was enjoying a heated snowball fight with him, even getting pegged in the balls by a snow ball thrown by an old man with shitty aim. But recovering enough to wrestle him to the ground and hold his own against a man. Going to bed that night, there was the promise of home made pancakes and bacon the next morning and heading to the shooting range to practice some shooting. The next morning came and instead of pancakes, this boy and his sister were ushered off to the grandparents because dad had been called into work. Dad was already gone when he got up. Later that night, about 8, I remember it being after 8, because I was watching the Cosby show, which came on Thursday nights at 8, who I watched and laughed with my step dad, my mom coming into my room, fear on her face asking if I had heard from him. A simple shake and a single word. No. The next memory I have is waking about 3 in the morning to the sound of strange voices in our house. Looking out the window, I could see flashing blue lights of several police cars. Walking down stairs to see what was going, I was greeted by the sight of some 20 officers in our living room. I ran back upstairs to my room. Why? I don't know. I remember getting my younger sister into bed with me and pulling the covers over my head. What was wrong? What is going on? A few minutes later, my grandfather walks in, sits on the edge of the bed and tells me he has some bad news. Choking back tears, and through a trembling lip, he tells me in plain simple words. "Frank is dead."

As a boy, I was forced to grow up fast. I was forced to be a man. Sports didn't matter much. I continued to play taking my aggression out on the football field. Punishing the enemy as my coach would instill in my head. Driving their dicks in the dirt play after play. My aggression paid off with a visit from a local college and the offer of a scholarship to play at the next level. Only, I turned it down. By the time I was 17, I had also lost a sister to a drunk driving accident. My grandfather's health was failing. My moms health was going down hill. I felt the world closing in. I ran. I turned down the scholarship. I walked away from a free education. I walked away from the first true love I had. I simply turned my back and walked away.

After dropping out of college, I practically married the first woman who showed me more attention. That lasted less the five years. That's when I turned to BDSM. That's when I discovered there is a dark side to me. It took me years to dig out of that darkness. But here I am today. I have my past. I have my skeletons in the closet. I have been there and done that. I have climbed and conquered that mountain. I have earned my right to be wear I am today. I walked through that valley of the shadow of death and I now fear NO EVIL. I know what evil is. I have been that evil. Yet here I am now today. A better, stronger man then before. I will, I have survived. And I fucking god damned DESERVE respect. I HAVE earned that. So don't fucking try to play games with me, physically, emotionally or mentally. You WILL fucking lose. And if luck is on my side, will be laying across my knee, taking the spanking you deserve for trying to play, cross, manipulate or even push me. I am who I am. No more, no less. Take it or leave it, don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

Those who know me, who truly know me, know that I am a good guy, a good friend, a good lover and even a good spanker. Those who don't know me and try to pass judgement on me..... all I have to say is....Be ready for a battle if you think you can get away with it.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Life is too damn short!!!!

So here it is October and it has been sometime since my last post. A couple of weeks ago I ran into a couple of friends that are in the lifestyle. I haven't seen either one of them in sometime. It was really good to see them. Talking with her, she informed me of an accident she had had and how close she had cheated death. Since the accident, her and hubby had put the lifestyle on hold to focus on their life. Sometimes it takes a traumatic event for us all to put life in perspective and realize there is more to life. What really disturbed me is the help, concern, support etc they did NOT receive from our local lifestyle community. Here is a couple that is very active in the scene and no one offered anything. No home cooked meals, no offers to clean house or do laundry. Not even an offer of an ass to whip for release. Damn, what the hell has the world come to? I mean seriously?

I too have taken time for myself and in a sense taken a step back from the lifestyle. Do I miss it? Hell yes. Do I think about it all the time? Damn right. Do I have the desire to whip, flog and fuck with someones mind? Does a bear shit in the woods? Of course I fucking have the desire. At the end of the day we all have our lives. Some of us have families. Some of us have lives outside the lifestyle. We all have jobs. Sometimes life gets in the way of who and what we are, crave, desire etc. Sometimes we have to make time for ourselves. What really irritates the fuck out of me is that some people think they are hollier then though and if you go against them or fail to support them or even forbid, focus on YOURSELF, that they turn their back on you and in a sense cast you away. Perception is everything and this is how I perceive it.

If someone truly is your friend, then that person or persons will be there through thick and thin. Through all the drama, the fun times, the bad times, through all the bullshit. Hell, a good friend will bail your ass out of jail. The greatest friend will be sitting next to you in jail, punch you in the arm and say "Hell, we NEED to do THAT again!!!!!!" My point is friends never turn their backs on friends. I admit that I have not always been there for my friends, but it isn't because I didn't want to be there. True friends understand that there are times when you can not be there for them because you have your own life. True friends will simply say, "let me know if there is anything I can do, stay in touch, get back with me when you can etc etc" and be sincere when they tell you no worries, I will make do. True friends just understand.

I don't know how many people are reading my blog. I don't really give a fuck if there is only 2-3 of you or the while fucking world. This is MY blog. But, what I do care about are friends. Friends who will allow me to bitch, moan or praise myself without judgement. Friends who respect my opinion if it is different from theirs. I can not expect everyone to be like me, work like me, agree with everything etc. What I do expect is openness and honesty. Be open enough to accept me for who I am. Be honest enough to tell me if they disagree, but after it is all said and done, realize we are friends and sometimes friends just disagree.

I admit, I have turned my back on my friends. I have judged someone. I have sneered, shunned, even damned someone. I am by no means perfect. And you aren't either. None of us are. We all are of guilty of doing this at some point. Maybe not openly but in your mind you are. Shit happens. Life happens. Maturity is measured by how quick you realize your mistake, correct it and move forward. Maturity is not measured by how many times you have been around the block.

My final thought is this. Life is too damn short to go around with resentment, hurt, hard feelings grudges etc. Life is too damn short to allow others to be a negative force against you. Life is too short to allow yourself the pitfalls of someone else. Live your life for yourself. Your true friends will allow you to do that and be there when they can to support you. Even if their opinion or support differ from you and your view. Life is too short to have friends who simply don't give a fuck about you. Life is just too damn short.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Story time part 3

Pouring her a glass of wine, she was reaching for it before he could pull the bottle away. She drained the wine glass and gently settled it down on the table. When she looked up, he was holding his glass in the air to offer a toast. She felt the heat in her face and neck as the embarrassment came over her. "I'm so sorry, may I have another glass?"

He looked into her eyes briefly before setting his glass down. Picking the bottle up, he poured her some more wine. Before he finished, he said "Do not touch your glass until I have picked mine up." Placing the bottle in the center of the table, he reached for his. Raising his off the table, holding it in the air, he gave her permission to reach for hers. In a nervous twitch, she practically lunged her hand for her glass. Knocking the glass over, spilling her wine all over the table. He was out of his chair, looking at his lap. Red wine on a light grey pinstripe suit was not good. The waiter was at their table before he could look up. Offering his towel to help soak up the red wine that spilled on the white linen table cloth and on his suit. She sat there in utter shock as to what just happened. Biting her lip, she felt sick to her stomach. He looked up, smiled at the waiter and said "No worries, I will simple go back to my room and change. Accidents happen, don't they honey?" Looking at her, but with fire in his eyes, she smiled and nodded yes. He set his glass down, reached for his wallet and pulled 2 crisp 100 dollar bills and stuffed them into the hand of the waiter. "That should cover the wine. I will order room service for us both. Have a good evening. Come dear, lets go get me out of this suit."

Rising from her chair, her knees locked and she couldn't move. He reached for her hand to pull her away, but her feet wouldn't move. A gentle tug of her arm, brought her into reality and she started to move. Her head was swimming. She felt as if she were walking on air. Leading her to the elevator, he pulled her close while waiting for the doors to open. He leaned down and growled into her ear, "Hell of a way to start the night, don't you think?" Before she could answer, the chime of the elevator arriving silenced her and the doors opened. As the other couple exited, the woman stared in disbelief at the wine on his suit. He simply smiled and said, no worries, I didn't like this suit anyhow. Stepping into the elevator, he punched the button for the top floor and waited for the doors to close. With a jolt they began to rise. She turned to him and opened her mouth but the words would not come out. He put his finger to her lips to shush her and at the same time he spoke and said "not a word until I say so."

The elevator came to a slow stop and the doors opened on the top floor. He stepped out and walked briskly away. For a heartbeat, she thought of staying in the elevator and riding it back to her floor. But instead, her feet failed her and she stepped out. Walking quickly to catch up he stopped at his door and inserted his key to open up his room. Holding the door open for her, he motioned her in first. Following her in, he directed her to the plush high back chair by the sofa in his suite. Closing the door behind him, he turned to see her staring at him. He smiled in a wicked, yet seductive way and walked off to the bedroom. She stood and walked around the suite. Checking out the view from the top floor, she could see way up into the mountains beyond the city. When she turned around, he was standing in the doorway admiring her beauty. She smiled again, blushing slightly. This time she had her wits about her, when she opened her mouth to speak. "I am so very sorry for being late and spilling the wine. I will gladly pay for your dry cleaning or buy you another suit if it is ruined. I normally am no...." but before she could finish, he raised in hand bringing her to a halt. "Look, accidents happen. However, accidents are also unacceptable. So far, you have 2 strikes against you. One for being late and the second for spilling the wine. There is no need to be nervous. I am just a man that has an interest in you. A man who was looking forward to spending a quiet dinner with a beautiful woman such as yourself. However, that is now ruined. So instead of dinner, we can discuss the reason why you gave me your number.

Looking him in the eyes, she stood upright, inhaling deeply and gathered her thoughts. "I wanted to meet you because you caught my attention today. There is something about you that is drawing me to you. You have this magnetism about you I can not seem to escape. Looking at you, something told me I had to meet you. I gave your lady friend my number in hopes you would call and we could meet."

He thought for a moment and threw his hands up. "Here I am, you have met me. First things first, she is not a lady friend of mine. She is a woman who desires to release and submit herself to a man like me. By day she is a strong, successful woman. By night, she is a woman who will kneel at my feet with the snap of my fingers. A woman who once receiving instructions carries them out without question."

Looking back at him in shock, she replied, "Why would a woman kneel at your feet? Why would a strong woman like that submit herself to a man in that way? No man is worth that to me." He stepped towards her, an evil grin creasing his face. " oh but you will submit to me. You will learn to follow my every command. You will crave it. It will keep you awake at night. It will cause you to constantly think of me. Don't you worry, you will submit to me. Besides, you already have."

How have I submitted to you already? She replied. Putting her hands on her hips, she realized how. She was wearing the clothes he laid out. OK, you win that one, I am wearing the clothes you asked me to wear. But that doesn't mean I will submit to your every whim and desire.

Oh but you will. Before he could speak another word, there was a knock at the door. "Ah, dinner has arrived." As he walked to the door he said over his shoulder in his commanding voice, "Strip to your stockings and heels. As the cart was wheeled into the room, she looked at the young man and smiled. Turning away, she could feel the man burning a hole into her with his eyes. Biting her bottom lip, she took in a deep breath before turning around. Looking across the room, she watched him sign for the meal and hand him his suit to have sent out to be cleaned. The next words that came from his lips caught her appalled her. While the waiter was standing there, he repeated himself in a growl. "I do not like having to repeat myself. I ordered you to strip down to your stockings and heels. Do it now!" Thanking the waiter, he walked him to the door and asked him to return in a couple of hours. I will have a tip for you then.

Closing the door, he turned and looked at her. She was still dressed. He walked towards her, fire in his eyes. Growling once more, "STRIP NOW!"

Friday, June 12, 2009


Well, been a long damn time since I posted anything. Fuck life has been busy. So much has been going on I didnt realize how long it had been since I last posted. Let me just say that in life, you truly know who your friends are and the ones who care about you. I learned a long time ago that people are like a revolving door. They will come and go in your life. In today and gone tomorrow. Friends however are the ones who come in, shut the door and lock it. Doesnt matter if it is a porblem of just life in general. Friends stick by you and understand. A long time ago I was the type who would chase after something. I would persue and follow until... until it got ugly. Today, I will persue and chase, but I am more quick to read between the lines and know when to back off. If I put the ball in your court, I will expect something in return.

I say this because I am tired of that fucking revolving door. I am tired of people coming and going. I am fucking tired of it. I am not attempting to cause drama with this. I am stating a fact about me and how I feel. Dont like how I feel, then fuck you very much. Last I checked I live my life for me. I dont live it for anyone else. Right now I sense a lot of red faces and clenched teeth. Do I feel sorry for what I have said? Not one bit. Do I regret saying it? Hell no. Will I change? Are you out of your fucking mind? I am me. Take it or leave it. Do you think you can change me? HA!!!!! Anyone who truly knows me, knows this. I say it like I see it. I call a spade a spade.

Fucking life is life people. Choose to accept what happens.

Thursday, May 14, 2009

When a submissive has had enough.

So the past few weeks have been extremely busy at work and at home and I really haven't had a chance to post about something in the lifestyle. So I will give it a whirl today and see if I can energize you.

I have been asked before, "How do you know when a submissive has had enough in a scene?" Well, there are many variables to consider when scening with someone. Body language never lies. Let me give you an example or two. If I have a submissive over my knee and I am giving her a bare handed spanking, I will vary the areas I spank. Trying to avoid the same area with consecutive swats. I always feel for body tensing, relaxing, jerking etc. If the submissive is clenching their ass cheeks together, that is a good sign. Means they can still feel it. They are expecting a swat. Check the heat radiating from their skin every so often. The hotter it is, the more then skin is stinging. If the skin is cold, there is no blood circulation. And I am not talking about it being cold because they have been sitting on ice or the room is cold. Gently touch the skin. I am constantly checking for welts. Looking for broken skin. If I see a welt that is purple, then I will avoid it. There is blood under the skin. If a sub can take it until I am welted her entire ass, I will then stop. No use in causing more harm. And yes I have ended a scene or two because of that. Watch and feel the body language. If your sub is gagged, they can not use a safe word. If the body goes limp, typically they have zoned out or gone into subspace. Listen for sobs. Listen for the sniffles.

If I have a sub bound to a cross, or whipping bench or some other object, I will check the sub more often then when they are across my knee. I am unable to feel the twitches in their body or skin. Seeing is always believing. Watching their reaction is always a good sign of more or not. But sometimes, you have to physically touch them. Maybe whisper into their ear. If using a flogger, make sure to not wrap the flogger and hit some place you shouldn't like their face or eyes. Avoid the kidney area if possible. A swat here and there is fine. but don't concentrate on that all the time. If all else fails use common sense.

Of course all of this is dependent on the prenegotiation between me and the sub. Sometimes it is a quick spanking lasting 20-30 mins or an intense flogging that leaves me dripping in sweat. Only once have I had a sub truly safe word out. I have had a few that have used a safe word after the 3 or 4th swat. Those don't count. I'm not bragging saying I am the best because I know there are others out there who will disagree with me. My point is, I am constantly analyzing the scene, the submissive, myself and everything else around me. If I am in a public setting carrying out a scene, do NOT disturb me unless you are stopping me. I need concentration on what I am doing and who I am doing it with. interrupting me to comment or compliment on something can wait until I am finished. Most often if you interrupt me or someone else in a scene without provocation, you will get a dirty look either from the Dom or sub, if not both. If you are watching me carry out a scene and you are not involved, then be quiet and be still.

These are just a few things I am always looking for. If you are exercising common sense, then things should be ok. If you are acting in a wreckless manner, someone could and will get hurt.

My final thought is this. Always be aware of whats going on. Don't just step up and swat swat swat away for the hell of it. know what you are doing or what you are taking, Know what your limits are. Know what the other parties limits are. If you don't know how to pick up on body language, then be patient. Take your time and observe. Don't be abusive. If you are unsure, then speak up. Ask for advice or help. The only stupid question is the one you DON'T ask.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Friday, May 1, 2009

The 2 darkest nights in my life.

The past few days I have spent a lot of time reflecting on my past. Yesterday I wrote about a friend of mine. Thank you all for your kind words and offers of support. As usual though, no one posted anything here. I'm starting to think no one reads this blog. Anyhow, I am not going to step on my soap box. A few of you have expressed how I keep things inside me. I am a tough read. I am a secretive person. Well allow me to tell you a little about my past.

My mom and dad married young and before I was 2, they divorced. I never knew my dad. The only relationship I had was the monthly child support check mailed in. My mom remarried when I was 6. He was a local police officer. My sister came less then a year later. We moved about 6 or 7 times between the age of 6 and 13. When I was 12 we had one of the worst winters on record where I am from. The month of January, I spent most of the month home since schools were closed. On Jan 20, we had the coldest night in history. 24 below. That January I truly bonded with my step dad. The previous years we never really spent a lot of time together. We went to football games, or fishing, but 3 or 4 hours together every once and awhile just wasn't cutting it. He was always supportive when I played sports. Always making sure he was there when he was on duty. Don't get me wrong, he wasn't a bad guy. We just never had time together. A couple of nights later, while outside playing with the kids in the neighborhood, I was blindsided by a snowball thrown by my dad. A brief snowball fight was ended when I threw one and nailed him in the nuts. After we laughed and wrestled a little, we made our way home. He told me he would be home tomorrow and we could continue our snowball fight. "I will even make pancakes in the morning." One of the last things he ever said to me.

The next morning, my mom took my sister and I to our grandparents house because dad got a call in the middle of the night to go to work. Waking up to voices downstairs, I looked outside and saw more police cars with their lights on then I could have imagined the whole city had. Walking downstairs, the sight of so many police officers in uniform, guns at their sides and tears in their eyes. My mom sitting on the sofa, tears streaming down her cheeks, a man comforting her. "I knew something had happened with him when he didn't call." Those words are forever burned into my memory. I ran back upstairs and hid under the covers. I didn't know what was going on. My sister climbed into bed with me and tried our best to listen to what was being said downstairs. We both fell back asleep, only to be awaken by my grandfather opening the bedroom door. His large stature looking above me, he sat down on the edge of the bed. He put his hand on my shoulder, gently shook me and through the lump in his throat, he whispered...."Frank is dead." I started crying. The man who was my father figure was gone.

The next several days were extremely difficult on me. Watching my mom cry. Looking at my sister who really didn't understand what was going on. At 5, she didn't have a father anymore. I remember the visitation. I remember the funeral. I remember seeing the flag draped coffin. I remember the scores of people who attended the graveside. The news reported that was the longest funeral procession that they had ever seen. I remember sitting next to my mom. Her arm hooked with mine. I was being a gentleman. I had not cried since being told of his death. I was the pillar that mom leaned on. I was strong. I was stoic. After the flag was folded and handed to my mom, that is when I broke. I don't remember anything after that until going back to school a few days later. One of my classmates, her name is Carrie, came to me, hugged me and told me I looked handsome on TV. I was on TV? One of my teachers came to me with tears in her eyes, hugged me and told me she was sorry for my loss. I broke down again. I was tired of crying. After some time alone, I finally made up my mind I would never cry in front of anyone again. I decided it was best to keep my feelings to myself. That night, I asked mom if we were on TV. She handed me a video tape and said this is from the news. I put it in and after a few seconds, the news reporter was on, the story told and then video footage of the funeral. The cars. The officers. The mayor. The sheriff. Mom, granddaddy, my uncles. My sister. My mom and me, sitting next to her. The stone faced, strong, upright young man I turned into over night. Then there I was, on my knees, hugging the coffin.

Fast forward in my life to Jan 13, 2004. Sitting at work, the time was 1:42 in the afternoon. My cell phone rings and the number was from back home. The only person who called was mom. It was not her number. I answered it. The voice on the other end told me how he had found my mom, unconscious in her apartment. The ambulance was there. The EMT's attending to her. The voice said it wasn't good. "I am on my way." I made 3 phone calls. One to my sister, telling her to get to the hospital. The second to my fiance. And the third to my boss telling him I had an emergency. Normally the drive home was 2 and half hours. I made it in 2. At 3:20 am January 14, I was awaken by the nurse telling me mom was not getting better. I went into her room, looked at all the machines. The monitors. The blood transfusions. Her bloated body due to the internal bleeding. The doctor tells me there isn't much else they can do. Mom and I had had the conversation many times about how neither of us wanted a machine to keep us alive. for 12 hours, I went against her wishes. I didn't want her to die. I finally looked at the doctor and said, "She doesn't want this. Unplug her from the machines." I stepped out of the room while they did their work and in 10 minutes, I was sitting next to my mom. Holding her hand. Stroking her hair. Talking to her. Telling her it was time to go. Time to be with Frank. Tell Frank hi for me. Tell granddaddy I miss him. I held her hand and at 4:20am, she took her last breath. Her heart stopped beating. She was gone. I cried for the first time in front of a stranger since I was 12.

Now you know more about the inside of me. Now you know why I choose to be dark and hard to read. Now, you know.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Thursday, April 30, 2009

To my dear friend.....

Normally I don't show emotion. But after writing this entry, I am very emotional. I have tears in my eyes. I say this to let you know how much I care about my friend. After rereading this, I had to add this. I want everyone else to know and understand how much she means to me.

The other day I got a message from a friend of mine. Well, she is more then a friend. She is something special to me. My babydoll as I call her. She is a funny, caring, extremely intelligent, opinionated, compassionate, cute young lady. I say cute, because she is very much into age play. She has those cute puppy dogs eyes she used to flash at me when she wanted something. Damn her for that. I can hear her giggling right now with that comment. "Sorry Sir" is what she is saying. No you are not. We both know better don't we? She is one of the few who has and I am sure will manipulate me in the future. I remember her coming over to my apartment when she was in college and eating dinner. Afterwards, she would go to my office to do her homework. A few times I would check in on her and catch her with one of her many coloring books out and coloring. She hated standing in the corner when she got in trouble. Hated it with a passion. I just knew one day I was going to be walking by her corner and see where she wrote on my wall with a crayon. She is like that.

To meet her in public, in a vanilla setting, she would blow you away. She can carry on a conversation with the best of them. To just talk to her, you would never believe she is in this lifestyle. And if you thought she was in this lifestyle, many would think she is a Domme. But I know better. I miss a lot of our conversations. I miss sitting on the sofa with her and watching movies and eating popcorn. She was great to hang out with. I still chuckle when I think about the times we played and some of the things I did with her. I could always tell when we did something she loved because she would barely speak above a whisper and her whole body would blush in ecstasy. I say all of this about her because as I said, she will always have her own corner in my heart. She is that dear of a friend to me. I know she reads this blog. In fact, she is the first person I shared it with.

I say all of this about her because she has a difficult decision to make in life right now. I am not going to go into details, but I want her to know I am here for her. She is never alone in anything. I know she thinks a lot about me. I think a lot about her. If we were not so far apart, I would give her the biggest hug possible. She needs a pick me up in life right now and I hope it is working. I want her to know that nothing is impossible. I want her to know everything in life happens for a reason. I want her to know that God will never put more on her shoulders then he knows she can handle. I want her to know that every time she smiles, someone is thinking of her. I want her to know that I have some new coloring books and crayons for her anytime she wants them.

My final thought is this. Babydoll, you are very dear to me. I love you and you are never alone. I love you in a way that can never be explained or understood. You are very dear to me. Have been and will always be. Daddy will always be here for you. Keep your chin up. And don't forget to smile. You always have a sparkle in your eye when you smile. This one time, I am going to change the phrase in my signature for my friend. For my..... babydoll.

I WILL kiss away the tears.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

Rambling thoughts and BDSM 101 class

So this morning I am sitting here staring at the box to start a new post and I am not sure what to write about. I thought about continuing the story. But I am just not feeling it this morning. I don't want to say I have writers block, I just don't know what to write about. I am just not feeling it. The bad thing is I am in a writing mood this morning. I have several things going through my head but just can not put it into words. Man, what frustration this is. OK, here goes, I am going to try and start something.

Every day I think about BDSM. Every day I think about whats inside me. I don't want to say it controls my thoughts or my life but every day I find it more difficult to suppress these thoughts. No matter what I am doing, I always attempt to incorporate BDSM into in some form. Sometimes I am at work and trying to manipulate a vendor or a coworker into doing something that needs to be done. Sometimes I use my own self discipline inside me to make it through a task. Or when I go home at night, either dealing with the family or in any of the numerous volunteer organizations, I am always trying to incorporate this lifestyle. The other night I was out with friends and some of my lifestyle friends showed up. One expressed to me I am like a Daddy Dom to her. I always find myself on the end of playing Daddy to a lot of people both lifestyle and vanilla. I even have a few younger vanilla lady friends who refer to me as Papa Bear.

I tend to be the type who wants to help everyone. I will answer questions for anyone who asks. I will offer advice either solicited or unsolicited. I provide an unbiased opinion when asked for one. I even lend an ear when someone needs to vent. I have offered demonstrations. I have even blogged about a certain topic to help another out. My latest offering is to lead a BDSM 101 class for the local group here in town. The day after I offered, I thought to myself, "What the FUCK have I gotten myself into?" Then I thought about it and said, I can do this. Hell I am all the time offering advice and counseling to others. Whats a class with a bunch of people sitting there, hanging on my every word. Things that make you say HMMMMM!!!!!! I sense an evil plan in the works. EXCELLENT!!!!!!!!! MUAHAHHAHAHAHAHA !!!!!

I want to ask you, the readers to provide me with some ideas of what you would like to see in a BDSM 101 class. Somethings I think I will discuss will be respect, limits, negotiation, safe words, safety, cleanup and aftercare. What do you think? Anything else? Something I am leaving out or something in particular you think I should touch on? Many of my thoughts come from other peoples experience, a lot based on my experience. If you choose to not open up, I can not be an effective teacher. WAKE UP CLASS!!!!!! Oh yeah, I am going to enjoy teaching a class.

Many times I am blogging on something and as I am writing I am trying to entice responses from people. As of this post I have had 18 comments. WTF. I know there are more then 18 comments out there. Now granted a few of you discuss it with me through messenger. Your comments might help others or in some cases, help me. I value opinions. You don't have to agree with me, but I would still like to see or hear your side of it. I am sure there are others reading this that will as well.

I was just thinking about this one time I had a sub and I invited her over to the house and played with her while others observed. I remember the thoughts and feelings I had leading up to that evening the excitement I had. Not only playing and fucking with another, but also toying with the minds of spectators. I remember in preparing for the evening, I put hooks in the ceiling. Laying the rope out. Planning my evening of fun. Playing the scene out in my mind of what I wanted to do. Adding something else in. Stopping my thoughts and saying, "Oh don't forget to do that." I even went so far as to set up a space heater for the comfort of the guests. I know, I am a nice guy. Don't always expect it though. I don't want you think I am a softee or a fucking nice guy ALL the time. As the night progressed, the sweat forming on my brow, the smell of leather. The sound of my flogger landing on the intended spot. The whines, the moans, a few gasps, the sound of the rope pulling tight..... Oh sweet bliss. What a night.

OK, some of you are biting your lower lip. Stop that. Now your eyes are wide asking, "How did he know?" Damn I am good huh? And for those of you in denial, you know who you are, you are the ones who yearn for it the most. Yes you. No, not you, YOU!!!!!!!

My final thought..... hmm Do I have a final thought on this? Wait, yes I do. Feedback people. Provide it. I am like a fire, I need fuel. Throw another log on, or if you are daring, dump fuel on the fire. Just be careful and don't get burned. You adding a log doesn't mean the fire will intensify the way you want it to.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Meeting others.

The other night I went out with my wife and some friends to a local club. Several of our friends were already there and more showed up later. The music was loud. The beer was cold. The titties were plentiful. I met a few new people that night. One couple I met were new to the club. New to me at least. I had not seen them there before. They were young, exciting and good looking. What caught my eye with them was the mini flogger she held in her hand. Not too many times do you see someone wielding a tool of my trade at a club. Let alone out in public. After eyeing her for a few minutes and discussing her with a couple of friends, I decided to approach and see what she intended to do with her mini flogger.

She eyed me coming up to her and as I leaned on the railing that separates the dance floor from the seating area, her husband/boyfriend pulled her closer. He must have felt threatened by me. Why? Hell if I know. I asked her what she had in her hand there. Before she answered, she swung it at me and the tails landed on my forearm. When I didn't react, jump, wince or show any other surprise, she swung it again and again. Finally I asked her what she was doing and she said she was showing me what it was. She then tells me she loves her new toy and what she paid for it. I am one to never pass up an opportunity so I told her I have 2 very nice leather ones at home. Would her and her husband/boyfriend like to check them out. The look on their face was priceless.

Sometimes I get more enjoyment out of the look of horror and shock on peoples faces when I let them in on the dark side of me. Back in the fall I was at this same club and I brought my flogger with me. Many of the people avoided me like I had a weapon of mass destruction with me. However, there were a few who approached me and inquired about what I had. I gave a few demonstrations that night. Even brought one over to the dark side. Conversing with many of these people I usually get the same story. The other part of the twosome is not into BDSM, spanking, bondage, etc and I am so intrigued. I want to learn more blah blah blah. I love meeting new people and discovering that there is some freak inside of them. They just need help bringing it out.

Many times it is by accident I meet a lot of people who say they are into some of the same things as me. A few times on purpose. Like I have said before, you can see it in their eyes if they are really into this. The look of lust. The glassy eyes, the partially open dry mouth. The shallow breathing.... all signs they like what they see. I have the uncanny ability to read people. It is a blessing and a curse. I tell people this and they always say... "OK, tell me what I am thinking." Well duh, you are thinking, this guy cant read me. After we are done laughing about it, later on I will tell them what they are thinking at that moment and that's when they tend to amazed. They always ask, how do you know that? How do you do that? Its just me. I don't know. I just can.

Some people are more difficult to read then others. Some have a wall up attempting to hide something from their past. Their hurt from the past will not allow them to open up. Until they decide to let their guard down, open the door in their wall, they will not get past their painful past. Sometimes it is physical, sometimes emotional. All the time it is hurt they have. Too many times I have heard stories from others over their emotional, physical and mental scars they suffered at the hands of another in this lifestyle. It really pisses me off when I hear about the predators that are out there. The ones who do not have the experience and think it is all about beating the shit out of the other. Someone once told me abuse is what the other makes of it. Wrong. Abuse is what the controlling one does to the other. It is not an opinion or an interpretation. Abuse it what it is. ABUSE. I am not going to go off on a tangent here, but check back in the future for a post about abuse.

My final thought is this. People in general are a strange breed. My kink is someone else's taboo. Their kink is expected with me. So on. When people are comfortable in their own skin, in their element, in their surrounding, they usually let their guard down and let the inhibitions out. Don't be afraid to express yourself. You never know when I might be lurking in the room. I am always observing people. I love it. If I do approach you, don't be afraid. I wont bite..... hard.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Story time part 2

Her heart was racing as the word rolled off her tongue. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip waiting for the caller on the other end to speak.

In a soft, gentle deep voice, the man on the other end asked. "Good evening, is this Megan Morgan?" He sounded as if he was in the other room. She sat straight up in the tub and in a nervous voice responded. "Yes, this is she. How may I help you?"

"You tell me. You are the one who sent your number to me."

She stopped breathing. Her heart skipped several beats. Her eyes wide open with fear and excitement. She switched the phone in her hands as she bit her bottom lip. "I, errr, you, ummm, I'm sorry, you sort of caught me at a bad time. May I call you back in a few minutes?"

After a few seconds, she asked the question again. He answered, "No, you may not. I will be in the hotel restaurant at 8pm. Meet me there for dinner. I will have a table by the window." The line went dead. She didn't move for 30 seconds. The thumping of her pulse in her ear brought her back to reality. Looking at her phone, she realized she had 30 mins to get ready. She thought to herself, what am I going to wear? I haven't shaved my legs. I need to wash my hair. Not enough time. The hair and legs will have to wait. She got out of the tub, grabbed a towel and dried off. Pulling on her robe, tying it tight around her waist, she hurried off to the closet in her suite to see what she could wear. As she walked past her bed, she stopped dead in her tracks. Laying across the bed was a red dress, black stockings and red stiletto heels. A strand of pearls where in the open jewelry box by the neck of the dress. There was an note on top of the dress. She grabbed the note and held her breath. She thought to herself, where did all of this come from? Opening the note, her eyes widened. It was a check list of things to do before meeting him. She spun around twice in fear. He was in here. He WAS in the next room when I answered the phone. She reread the note again.

#1 shave every bit of hair from your neck down. I will be performing an inspection.
#2 wear what I laid out for you.
#3 don't be late.

She looked at the clock. 7:35 She has 25 minutes to be downstairs. She rushed off to the bathroom. Turning the water of the tub on, she went over to her travel bag and grabbed her razor and shaving cream. Lathering her legs up, she dipped the razor under the scolding hot water. Starting at her ankles, she pulled the razor up her long lean legs. Across her strong calves. Rubbing her hands over her legs, she checked for anymore stubble. Smooth as a newborns ass. Rushing back to the mirror, she applied her makeup. Spraying her perfume on her neck and stomach, she glanced at her phone. 7:50 She had to hurry. Pulling the stockings over her legs, she smoothed them out. Her heart racing. Her breathing fast, she ran her hands between her legs. Touching herself, she realized she had not shaved her pubic area. No time now. Standing up, she went to her lingerie drawer and pulled out her favorite panties and bra. A red lace matching set. Slipping into her panties and hoking the bra, she stepped back to the bed and pulled on the dress. It draped down to her calves, split high up her legs. Turning and looking to the mirror, she could see her stocking tops. Very sexy and daring. Stepping into the heels, she grabbed her phone and hurried out the door. Hurrying down the hall, she looked at her phone once again. 7:57 She was just going to make it.

"Where is the damn elevator?!?!?" She kept punching the down button. Looking up she could see the numbers counting up showing where the elevator was at. "Hurry!!!!" As she stepped into the elevator she glanced at her phone yet again. 8:00 Her heart stopped. She was going to be late. She prayed that her watch was slow. Punching the ground floor, she bit her lip again. Down the elevator went. Stopping a few times. The men getting on could not help but stare at her. Looking at her reflection in the doors of the elevator she smiled and thought, I truly am beautiful. The elevator came to a stop on the bottom floor. Not waiting for the doors to fully open, she was out and into the lobby. Entering the restaurant, she looked at her phone once more. 8:04 Cursing under her breath she bit her lip again. Looking around, she spotted him where he said he would be. As she walked over to the table, he stood and pulled her chair out for her. She smiled a nervous smile, took her seat and together scooted closer to the table. As he walked around to sit down, she looked him in the eyes and said "I am sorry I am late, the eleva.." He cut her off, "I don't care about the elevator, we will discuss your punishment later. Would you like a glass of wine?"

Friday, April 17, 2009

Biblical submission

The other day I met a new friend from Collarme. She complimented me on my blog. As the day progressed, she mentioned something that got my gears spinning. Biblical submission. I remember one time, in my first marriage, my wife and I were having a discussion about the bible. Hold on, I am not bringing religion to my blog. So dig your panties out of your ass and keep reading. First let me preface this by saying I am not an expert on the bible so don't ask me for chapter and verse where this is discussed, because I don't know. Somewhere in the bible it references biblical submission. The way it was explained to me is the man is the head of house, he makes the final decisions concerning all to do with his house and family. The wife becomes a submissive to the husband. Hence, biblical submission.

Over time, I can see where this has been stretched, manipulated, twisted etc. The wife becomes the stay at home mom. Cooking, cleaning, having and caring for the children etc etc. The man is the bread winner. He ventures out daily to his job, brings home the money to pay the bills. You get where I am going with that. Back to my friend and what her and I discussed. She referenced the man should be head of house and it his duties to care of all concerned when it comes to the home. Submissive included. My comment back to her was "Kinky biblical submission." She agreed that is what she was seeking.

After taking sometime to think about this, it got me thinking there are many many levels of submission. It is all in interpretation of submission. Some Dominates look at submission as a doormat. Ok, not some. A LOT!!! Don't get me started. One, women who are submissive are not doormats from beginning. Unless it is something they seek, desire and discuss with their Dominate. Some Dominates, such as myself, treat submissives with respect. A submissive will know their role in this lifestyle. Such as a woman knows her role in a biblical submission. Many times people have the idea that submission is a bad thing. A sign of weakness. I am here to tell you it is not. Submission is a beautiful thing and should be treated as such and respected. A submissive is as good as their Dominate. The better their Dominate treats, respects, builds, nurtures and trains their submissive, the better they become. I know many submissives who are extremely successful. One good friend, lives in Florida and has multiple businesses she owns and started from her own bare hands.

Biblical submission is just another lifestyle that people choose to live. The woman knows her role. The woman accepts her role. Does it make her less of a woman? No. Should she be treated as less that a woman? No. Today's society has gotten away from biblical submission due to the women's movement in the 60's and 70's. Today's woman is a successful business woman. Head of Fortune 500 companies. Women are now in the military. Governors and Mayors. Women hold position of power. Hell, we almost made history in the last election. Women are strong, powerful, and intelligent.

I have a very good vanilla friend who is a very successful business woman. Hell, my wife is like this. These 2 women believe that men should not cook, clean, do laundry, cook or do anything like this. It is a woman's job. Many times I have been run out of the kitchen while warming up leftovers. These 2 women rush home after work, do laundry, cook dinner, fold clothes, clean the kitchen etc after putting in a full day at work. I admire them for thinking and feeling it is their responsibility to do these things. Do I try to change them? HELL NO!!!! Anytime I can sit on my ass and not do a damn thing, I am grateful. Seriously, with my wife doing all these things, it opens me up to do more things.

My final thought is this. The lifestyle is all around us. It is referenced in the bible. People just need to open their eyes and look around. It is there. It amazes me how many different times I see and can incorporate BDSM into my everyday life. I remember when I introduced my wife to this lifestyle. her first question was "Why?" My first response was, because it is who I am. But I also explained it this way. Imagine the strongest bond between 2 people. Imagine their love for one another. Now multiply that a bazillionmillion times. I once saw this in a BDSM couples eyes one time. Communicating without having to utter a single word. Knowing when it is enough. Or to push more. The mental connection. The emotional connection. But until I find that, I will enjoy taking a woman over my knee and spanking her.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Story time

She was a beautiful woman. Her makeup was always perfect. Her clothes always looked as if they were tailored specifically for her body. Her hair looked to be fresh from the salon. Her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Never a hair out of place, nor on her clothes anywhere. She looked as if she constantly used a lint roller. Her nails were manicured to perfection. Her smile could brighten the skies on a dark and storming day. Her eyes were as green as the grass on a championship golf course. Her perfume would intoxicate any red blooded, testosterone filled man. Her skin was smooth and creamy. Her legs were long enough to stride stairs two at a time without effort. Her ass was firm. All those steps in aerobics had paid off. Her breasts were perky. Her nipples the size of erasers and slightly pointing up. She had no cosmetic surgery. She was a walking Barbi doll. She was blessed with good genes in her family. Her mom was Miss Universe in her days. Her father, the best athlete in his day. She didn't choose modeling or even athletics. She choose education. As she aged, she went into business. Her ambition was business woman of the century. She was well on her way with running a multi-billion dollar company that she started while in high school with 100 dollars her father gave her as start up capital. Now she was the most well known business woman in the world.

She WAS the most beautiful, most elegant woman in the world. She was single, never married. She was the most eligible woman to ever walk the earth. But why?

She has a man in her life. No one knows about him though He is your typical, everyday male. Hard working, trusting, youth volunteering, church going man. One day while she was at a book signing she noticed him standing off to the side. She wondered if his wife was in line waiting for her to sign her book. She was distracted by this man. Something told her that she needed to say hello. To introduce herself to him. He was standing with such confidence. She just..... just couldn't take her eyes off of him. Her breathing became shallow. Her heart raced. Her face flushed. A voice called her by name. She turned to see a woman holding a book open for her to sign. The woman spoke, "That man over there sure is a handsome man. Do you know him?"

"No I don't. I need to meet him though." The words coming from her lips sounded like a girl going through puberty. Her voice cracking. Her mouth was dry. She swallowed hard. Reaching for a bottle of water she took a drink. Signing the book, she looked up with a smile and thanked the woman for buying her book. Before the woman could take the book back, she looked again for this man. He was gone. She turned her head more, looking, searching. He was no where to be found. "Would you like for me to introduce you to him?" The words caught her off guard. Her head snapped around. Her pony tail whipping like a horse swatting at flies. "You know him?!?"

"Yes he is... he is a dear friend of mine." She didn't know how to address him in public like this. The author took a piece of paper, scribbled her number on it and handed it to the lady. Please ask him to give me a call this evening. I would love to meet him for a drink."

The lady took the paper and disappeared into the crowd. The day went by in a blur. All she could think about was this man. She could not get him out of her mind. She signed books. posed for pictures. But she does not remember doing this. When the day was done, she was back in her suite at the hotel. She needed a bath. She needed to wash the grime of the day off of her skin. She took the phone with her to make sure she didn't miss the call from the mysterious man. As she settled into the hottest bath she could draw, the bubbles high, candles burning. The smell of lavender in the rub flooded her nostrils. She settled back, resting her head on the pillow on the side of the tub. Her thoughts went to this man. Wondering who he was. Wondering what it was about him that was consuming her every thought. She sighed. Not having a man in her life was starting to irritate her. She was at the age that she craved companionship on a personal level. She thought more about him. He looked rugged, yet refined. He had broad shoulders. Dark hair. Strong facial features. She gently bit her bottom lip. Her hands sank below the bubbles. Her left hand going to her erect nipples. Her right hand settling between her legs. Just as she inhaled when her hand cupped her bare pussy, her cell phone rang. Jumping, she splashed water out of the tub. The phone got wet. She grabbed for a towel to dry her hands off. Grabbing for the ringing phone she prayed that she hadn't ruined it.

Her voice trembled as she answered. "Hello?"


The other day I was doing some thinking about this lifestyle and how I have progressed in my life. I used to be the type that had no patience. I put expectations on people before I had a chance to get to know them, let alone meet them. I was always quick to jump to conclusions. I always thought that life was going to pass me by without me. After countless times of feeling let down and hurt, I took sometime to myself and stepped away. I analyzed myself and where the breakdowns and hurt was coming from. I realized I was impatient. I wanted things right then. Someone once told me that not everyone could be what I wanted or expected them to be. Another person told me that you can not force things on anyone. I learned that patience was the best. I learned that good things DO come to those who wait. Rome was not built in a day. We shouldn't expect anything to happen over night. In my vanilla life, I was being a friend to someone and I told them that life is only overwhelming if you allow it to stress you out. Take things one at a time. At the end of the day, life always seems to work itself out. Life is funny like that.

Many times I come across people in this lifestyle who want now, who expect now, who demand now. What do I tell them? Be patient. And how many times do I get an eye roll or I cant be patient? TOO DAMN MANY. if you can not learn to exercise self control and have patience, then you will be nothing more then a friend to me. If you can demonstrate those things, then I would consider more. Too many times I have pissed someone off by saying this. Guess what, I am here for me. If you want to ride this train with me, then please follow my lead and simple instructions. If not, then don't even fucking get on. Period. One of the quickest ways to get on my bad side is to push me. Push me and I will do one of two things. Push back and harder, or walk away. Ask anyone who really knows me about pushing back. It is not a good thing. Patience is a virtue. Whoever coined that phrase is right on the money. I can not tell you how many times I have exercised patience that before I needed to make my decision, it worked itself out.

Another discussion I had once was about eagerness vs impatience. Eagerness is a lot different. Eagerness can fall into the category of being willing, being open. Being eager is a good thing. Being eager is a sign of wanting to learn, and be taught. I like someone that is eager to learn. There is a big difference between the two. A person who is eager is easy to teach. They are a sponge, looking to soak anything and everything up. It is possible that an eager person can turn impatient.

My final thought is this. Being inpatient can put you or someone else at risk. And in this lifestyle, hell in any lifestyle, putting someone at risk is not a good thing. So don't do it. Don't allow someone to put you at risk. Patience truly is a virtue. Learn patience if you do not already know it.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Friday, April 10, 2009

Pleasure VS Abuse

I have a friend that this week I started talking to her about the BDSM lifestyle. This is a woman who I met outside this lifestyle and the more I chatted and talked with her, the more my freakdar was telling me this woman has a freaky and wild side hidden underneath. When we first started talking she would tell me that she didn't like to be spanked or anything like that. But the more I talked to her, the more I could tell she DOES like to give up control. Well, we have had a breakthrough ladies and gentleman. After asking the right questions, she has now admitted to wanting to be spanked and Dominated, and even has a Dominate streak in her. YES!!!!!! Another convert. Never let it be said I am not working hard to bring the vanilla people over. I have learned recently that it is best to not come right and tell people about my lifestyle. I have scared a few too many off just by bringing my paddle out or mentioning a flogger or even mentioning BDSM in general. I have learned it is best to sit back, exercise patience, (where have I heard that before?) and observe. I started with a woman who tells me she is turned off by the thought of being spanked to finally pulling out of her, with a few well asked, well worded questions, that under her skin, she is a freak. Is into being spanked. Hell, she even has thoughts of being the one in control. As I chatted with her, I did learn something and that is what I am going to talk about today.

I know I have written about this before, but I want to touch on it again. It is the fact that there are many people out there who are amatures and novices and they are practicing in an unsafe manner in this lifestyle. Because of their lack of knowledge and the abuse they hand out, it gives us a bad name. Just mentioning BDSM, and many people immediately judge you as an abuser. I have had many many conversations with people about this and doing my best to assure those and anyone else who will listen that this is not about abuse. It is not about hauling off and beating someone. There are a lot of us out there who would love to take these assholes that are giving us a bad name and abuse the fuck out of them. But the ones who actually practice and live this lifestyle know the difference between abuse and pleasure.

The other day I came across a website, I don't remember what it was, but at first, I was loving the site. Showed women in some tight bondage. Flogging. Humiliation. Some awesome looking furniture. Great rope skills. Some hot sex. You get the picture. But the more I thought about this website, the more I realized something. This website and any others like it are fueling the ideas and thoughts of abuse associated with this lifestyle. If you take time to look at these videos on this site, you will see a lot of the girls (actresses) who are getting off. But they also display the look of fear on their faces. Having a ball gag in, and someone taking a cane to their ass. The tears might be real, but it is sending the wrong message. The message is, it is not BDSM unless you are scaring the fuck out of the submissive, beating and abusing him/her, making the sub cry and beg for mercy, etc etc. What the video does NOT show is the negotiations before hand. It doesn't tell you that the people in the videos are into this. Their scene is, I want to cry. I want to be beat etc etc. At the end of the video, it shows the participants sitting around, discussing the scene. Asking how one another is. so on and so forth. In a sense, it is showing the after care involved.

I have said it before, nothing pisses me off more then closed, narrow minded assholes. If you want to damn me for my lifestyle choice, make damn sure you are doing it with all the facts and knowledge. If your facts and knowledge came from a porno, remember, the actors and actresses in the porno are paid individuals. They are acting. The marks are real. The tears are real, but it does not say this is how it has to be. These are people who WANT to do this. Who WANT this. Who NEED this. These are not people doing this against their will. They are of sound mind and body. They know what they are doing..... Does everyone get my point? Nod your head and repeat after me.... "Yes Sir, I understand." Good. That's what I like to hear.

My final thought is this. Too many people out there think they know how to spank, flog or paddle someone. If you are in this lifestyle and want to do these things. Please make sure you have the proper training. Don't just haul off and swat someone. Discuss it before hand. Open dialog with that person. Know how to swat, swing a flogger or bare hand spank someone. If you don't know then I encourage you to seek out someone who can show you. A local group. Buy a book. Ask others in the lifestyle. But please, don't abuse someone without their consent. If you do, then you will be the next one I blog about and I can assure you, it will not be as nice as this one. You fuckers are starting to piss me off.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


What is your definition of kinky? I ask this question a lot. I ask it to people I interact with on a personal and private level. Most often, my question is answered with the same question. Goes to show people are one of two things. Either shy about sharing their personal thoughts or are afraid of being looked down upon. After some prodding, the answers varies. It all depends on your thinking. Some say kinky to them is doing it in the kitchen, or with the lights on. Or maybe even a different position. To others it ranges from using a toy to whips and chains. It all depends on who we are and our experiences.

I once took some time to myself to think what my answer to the question is. My conclusion is I don't think I have a kinky side. 3 way? Done that. 2 women? Done that. Whips and chains? Hello!!!.... Done that. Outside? Done that. During the day outside? Done that. So then I thought some more. Maybe kinky to me is the abnormal aspect of sex. What is abnormal then? Hell who knows. It is all a matter of opinion. So, if we take the aspect of my opinion is different from you then let's just say that sex is sex. No matter what it is.

So if sex is just sex, then why are there some many judgemental people out there? Why do they judge me or you because we like ropes, whips and chains? Why do they stand outside bookstores and take your picture? My God people. Get on with your life and stop concerning yourself with how I choose to live mine. Get over your high and mighty self. I think those who choose to judge me, hell judge anyone for that fact are nothing but fucking assholes. They need to have their ass reamed by a fucking large object. Now, that is kinky. Fisting. Anal fisting is even better.

Staying on subject here, what is kinky...??? Recently I was chatting with a female friend and I mentioned I was holding back on her. She asked why? I told her I didn't want to scare her off. She has gained a new interest in this lifestyle. She reads my blog and I will bet anyone else reading a million dollars she is blushing beet red right now. Right? Damn skippy I am right. I know she is. Hell, I can see her in my mind right now and how red her face is. Right about now, she has sent me a message about mentioning her. I love fucking with people. Mind fucking is a great tool. Give me a small crack and I will exploit it. She kept telling me she is unshockable. HA! I am unshockable. Anyone who knows me, knows this is true. I decided to push the edge here. So I came up with some things. When I was done, she was shocked. And she told me it was a good thing. There is an animal in her that is waiting for the lock to be taken off the cage.

My final thought is this. Each and everyone of us is different in our own unique way. Not only in our looks, finger prints, etc but also our inner self. Our thoughts, our opinions, hell even our definition of kinky. Some of you I have shared thoughts with. Some of you have shared yours. If anyone else wants to share thoughts, then by all means get a hole of me. I love a good stimulating conversation. Don't be afraid. I don't bite.... hard.

Again, I look forward to your comments. Many of you comment, but choose to do some via a private message. I am asking to share your thoughts and comments here so maybe it will open up some friendly discussions. Thanks for taking time to read my blog. I do it for you, the readers.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

I once had a domestic slave

I was sitting here looking at my desk this morning and thinking what a freaking mess it is. End of year reports, sales reports, hell I even have a report on how often an employee is late. (thanks to one of my coworkers) As I am looking at this, I am thinking, wouldn't it be nice to have a domestic slave. That reminded me of a female servant I had once. I remember we were talking one night and I expressed how I hate cooking for one and cleaning my apartment. I kept a tidy place, but cleaning the kitchen, doing laundry, dusting... You get the point. She offered to come by and clean my apartment. Do laundry on her days off. She even volunteered to get all the dust bunnies from under the bed. All she asked in return was an occasional play. The first time she came over, I was a little under the weather. As I slept in bed, under the warm covers, she did a thorough cleaning of my apartment. Cleaned out the stove. Even hauled my clothes to the laundry mat. When all was done, she made me a pot of home made soup. YUMMM!!!!!!!

She did such a fine job, the only way I could repay her was to have good long session with her. All the stops were pulled out. Clamps, rope, chains, flogger, crop(which broke over her ass), hell I even pulled out the cane. When play time was over, I was dripping sweat. My shoulders were sore from swinging the flogger. I wonder if I can put a "swing counter" on my arm to tell me how many times I swing a flogger. My final act before cutting her free, I took my 1/4" wooden cane and swatted my first initial into her left ass cheek.

I wrote in my previous blog about aftercare of a submissive after a scene. Let me touch on that a little more here. When we were done, I used a soft cotton towel to wipe the sweat from her body. I then took her to the bed, laid her face down on the bed. I then took some vitamin E lotion and gently massaged it into her red and swollen ass. Her hot skin soaked it right up. I took some warm cocoa butter and massaged her lower back and shoulders. Slowly and firmly kneading her neck and shoulders. I then moved down to the backs of her legs, making sure to spend a lot of time on her calves and feet. As she relaxed, I could see her breathing slowing down. She was taking longer and deeper breaths. When I finally heard the faint snore, I knew my work was done. After I showered, I joined her in bed, making sure to roll her onto her side and holding her in my arms as she enjoyed a good deep sleep.

See, I am a nice guy. Take care of me, I will take care of you. Many of you know me and know I am a nice guy. I always believe treat others the way you want to be treated. Fuck with me, I will fuck with you back. If I treat you with kindness and respect, I expect the same in return.

I miss my domestic slave I had. She was a great thing. She ended up getting transferred to another state with her job. I considered moving to the same town, but soon realized that the long term chemistry between us was not there. From time to time I hear from her and I know she will be reading this entry. She by far was one of the good ones. She still is one of the good ones.

My final thought is this. In this lifestyle, there are many types. Some good, some bad. Domestic slaves, pain sluts and hard core Sadists. Everyone is unique in their own , sometimes quirky ways. Everyone brings something different to the table. I enjoy making new friends in this lifestyle. Discussing ideas and views with others. By now, you know I love friendly banter and in depth conversations. Just because you read something in her about me doesn't mean that is me to the core and there is no compromise. I am a compromising guy. I am flexible. I can be fun and kidding. But I can also be strict and stern. I can be a teddy bear of the biggest asshole of all time.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Monday, March 16, 2009


I have a friend I converse with who just doesn't seem to understand that you can have a scene and not include sex in some form or fashion. Now according to a former president of the United States, getting a blow job is not sex. I guess it is how you interpret sex. Me, it all is. I have scened many times and not received any form of sex during, before or after of said scene. That isn't saying I have not been in a sexual relationship with that submissive/bottom. Currently I have another friend, a mutual friend between myself and said friend who doesn't seem to comprehend this.

Some people look at this lifestyle as foreplay. Nothing wrong there. Myself included. Nothing gets my blood boiling more then a woman laid across my lap, pants & panties pulled down to her ankles, my left arm across her back holding her in place, my right leg over her legs, trapping them and my right hand swatting at a bare naked ass. My left hand available for the occasional hand that reaches back to block my next swat. Hearing the sobs, moans and the occasional sniffle. Admiring the welts from my hand. The stinging in my fingers. The redness, the heat emitting for her ass...... Oh What a thrill.

Many times I have witnessed, even sent a sub into subspace. I once asked someone the question, "Is there such a thing as Domspace?" The answer was yes there is. The feeling I gain in Domspace is euphoric. The calm that comes over me. The feeling of emptiness in my mind. The release of the negative energy within me. The high that comes from it. When I do achieve Domspace, it is better then having an orgasm. Don't get my wrong. I love getting a nut. But the feeling from Domspace is so much different. The few times I have reached it, I was in another world. I was conscious of my surroundings. But I was in a different state of mind prior to starting the scene.

It is good practice to have aftercare for your submissive/bottom. Aftercare ranges from attending to the welts, marks, breaks in the skin etc from a scene to holding a sub in your arms after a flogging or whipping. I know from my last experience of sending a sub into subspace, she went to sleep immediately afterwards. She told me she felt cold, I wrapped her in a blanket, gently kissed her on the forehead, stroked her hair as she drifted off to sleep. Sometimes you need to hold the sub in your arms. Gently rocking her. Kissing away the tears. Gently rubbing and caressing the bruises and welts. Whatever it is, after care is crucial to a scene and sub. But what about aftercare for a Dom?

Unless you have another sub/bottom/slave at your disposal, the Dom is usually left out on aftercare if your sub goes into subspace. Yea I know, sux doesn't it? Yes it does. Damn it, I want my aftercare. Ahhh but, now you see how sex isn't always required for a scene. I might not get a "nut" in the actual sense, but the release my mind and body gets from Domspace is better then the actual orgasm itself. It all is dependent on the scene and what takes place in this scene. Thinking back in all of my blog entries to date, I don't mention much sex. First, I am not going into the juicy XXX rated details. I will leave that to your imagination. Second, many of the times I have posted about, no sex took place. By choice, not because I am celibate. But because I already achieved my euphoric orgasm. If there is such a thing.

My final thought is this. It is possible to have a BDSM relationship without sex. It could be a prenegotiated thing or it is not required in the scene. Don't get me wrong. I love sex. I love getting blowjobs. I love "busting a nut". I love it all. But if a scene takes me to the right place, sex is not required. For me this lifestyle is as much, if not more mental then physical. I have always said I require mental stimulation more so then physical. That's me. You might be different. Great. Good for you. I don't expect everyone to agree with me, or even be on the same wagon as me.

Again, I value feedback from you. The more feedback I receive, the more frequent the posts. I would LOVE to live this lifestyle 24/7. But life happens to get in the way.

Such is life.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Thursday, March 5, 2009


Last night I went to bed simply wore out. Not only was yesterday a mentally tiring day with work, but I did some volunteer work that didn't allow me to get home until almost 11pm. After waking up at 4:30 yesterday morning, I was asleep before I could pull the covers over my body in bed. Work was busy, stressful and hectic yesterday. Every time I turned around there was another small crisis to take care of. I would be on the phone, have one on hold, cell phone would ring, emails to be answered, employees asking questions...... At the end of the evening as I was driving home I reflected on the day. Mistakes I made and things that were accomplished. Yesterday I felt I was pulled in 5 million different directions. Driving home last night, I truly wished I had a foot slave at home so I could receive a much earned foot rub.

I say this because we all have stress in our lives. Many of us have families that we support and care for. Many of us have lives outside of this lifestyle. We have responsibilities. House payments, mouths to feed, bills to pay etc. I know several people who turn to this lifestyle as an out, as a stress reliever to their day. I am not questioning your reason for being in the lifestyle. It is your choice. Just as it is my choice why I am in the lifestyle. Whatever it is, we share a lot of the same thoughts and ideas. We even differ on opinions.

I do my best to not allow my stress effect my thoughts and actions in this lifestyle. I exercise what I like to call the 24 hour rule. The 24 hour rule allows me to sleep on it, reflect, replay it in my head and go over the possible solutions. Sometimes I react on emotion and have the right solution the first time. Sometimes I don't have the right solution and it makes the issue worse then it is. I remember being a teenager and pushing my mom to do something I wanted to do. I was so excited, couldn't wait, "Lets go mom!" But after it was over, it was a let down. Turns out it wasn't as exciting or thrilling as I thought. The outcome differed from what I wanted it to be. It has taken me a long time, but I have learned to use a lot of patience. A LOT!!!!! Oh I still get anxious and sometimes over react to something. I am human.

I know it is hard to hear someone say, "be patient". I understand that. But when you think about it after the fact, many times you kick yourself and realize you could and should have been patient. Life sux. Life is full of disappointments. The sooner you learn to live and deal with that, the easier things can and will become. I used the be the type to get excited and expect things to happen when I did something. Maybe it was a first date with a woman, expecting to start a relationship only to be let down because the chemistry wasn't there. I firmly believe in maintaining a positive attitude. if you believe it is going to happen it will. But that is a broad statement. Its different if you maintain a positive attitude that it WILL get better. I WILL find the one I want. Now, instead of expecting something to happen in my favor every time I do something, I just go into everything with the attitude, "Whatever happens happens." Meaning if it is meant to be it will happen. Might not be today or tomorrow, but it will happen. No expectations, and with no expectations, there is no let down because you have not gotten your hopes and dreams up.

I am not directing this post at any one person. Do not think that I am. This is my opinion. My thoughts. If it causes you to become emotional and want to strike out, lash out, get upset etc, then by all means exercise the 24 hour rule. Reread this post many times. Then come to me and discuss it. Everything in life happens for a reason. Many times we love the reason that it happened. But also, many times we do NOT like the reason. Again, life is full of disappointments. You need to start getting used to it. This post is not a reflection as to what is going to happen. This post is a reflection of what HAS happened.

My final thought is this. Life is what you make of it. Your actions in the past can and will determine your future. What is the past is the past. You can not change it. The future is uncertain. We are not promised tomorrow. Live for today, learn from the past and prepare for the future.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

What makes the best submissive?

Last night I had dinner with a new friend. We have been emailing and texting for a few weeks now. I heard she has magical hands and is a certified massage therapists. So, me being one to make myself feel good, I inquired about a massage for myself and my wife. Our schedules finally had an open time so we decided to meet. We enjoyed good food and great conversation. We even talked about which patrons and waitresses would be fun to play with.

During our conversation we got on the subject of submissives. We talked about how important communication is. Being open minded to others and their wants and needs. Even discussed personal preferences in women. I love talking with bisexual/lesbian women and comparing notes about women in general. One of her comments hit the nail on the head. The best submissive is one who can Dominate themselves. I am hearing a lot of "HUH?'s" and see people scratching their heads. Let me elaborate on this.

The best submissive is one who knows what he/she wants. Knows how to express themselves. Understands how important communication is. The best submissive is one who can control themselves without constant guidance from another. The best submissive is not meek, unsure, or even afraid. The best submissive is the one who will speak up, stand up, and stand out without the help of another. The best submissive is one who can Dominate themselves.

I am not saying that they tie themselves up, spank their own ass or even deny themselves an orgasm. Stop thinking like that. Open your eyes and your mind for a moment. Ask any Dominant and majority, if not all will tell you that they seek a submissive that is able to make decisions on their own, in the best interest of their Dominant without said Dominant there. Many times I hear from others who are submissives,"I am not a doormat, do not want to be treated as one." Good. Stand up for yourself. Don't let someone push you around. I, myself, don't want a submissive who is a doormat and allow others to push her around. I love a submissive who has a backbone. I want a strong submissive. Not a weak minded one.

Dominating them self is about exercising self control. Don't get me wrong. I love a submissive who can beg effectively. I love a submissive who is creative and manipulative. Although, I have yet to find one who can out manipulate me. Anyone want to give it a shot? I have a fear that too many of you reading this are confusing this with sex in some sort. That is not what I am talking about. I am talking mental and emotionally. Two things that many people forget about in this lifestyle. Exercise self control in the aspect of going after what you want and need. Do not settle for anything less. There is nothing wrong with being impatient. But look back on past experiences. The times you were impatient, what happened? Did it end in failure? Did it cause you grief? Again, the best submissive is one who can Dominate them self.

I have learned that the best submissive is one who can be open with their wants and needs. They are able to communicate effectively and openly. They are completely honest at all times. Many times I ask a potential new submissive to keep a written journal that I will read. In that journal it is an open and free area for them to write about anything they want to without fear of being punished for expressing their thoughts. For those who have a hard time communicating, it is easier for them to keep this journal and have learned to express themselves. In order to fully give themselves to another, they must first be able to Dominate themselves.

No many of you are probably thinking, "I am a shitty submissive then." Wrong. I am not saying you are. Maybe you haven't come across the right Dominant. Maybe you have the wrong attitude. If you are going to constantly talk negative, you will never grow in this lifestyle. Keep a positive attitude and good things will happen. Everyone in this lifestyle is different. This is my opinion I am sharing with others. I am sure some of you have different opinions from me. That's great. If you wish to share that opinion, I would love to read it. Please feel free to comment at anytime on this. Either comment on the blog, or email me directly.

My final thought is this. At the end of the day we are all equal in someway in this lifestyle. Always follow the golden rule of treat others the same way you want to be treated. Be true to yourself. Don't sugar coat it or lie to yourself in order to please another. Be the best you can be at all times. You never know who is watching and observing. I am ALWAYS watching and observing. The best submissive is one who can Dominate them self.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Cyber playing

Yesterday I was chatting with a friend and she asked me to write about cyber play and how some get into more the others. Well, here goes.....

Before there were chat rooms on the Internet, instant messaging and even texting there was the phone. I remember being a teen in high school and having a girl I lusted over. During the summers we would get on the phone at night and listen to one another say dirty things. Many times, we would just listen to the other do their thing and often times we would both fall asleep on the phone. Many nights I woke up to the sound of her soft steady breathing. I would gently kiss the phone and go back to sleep. When we would be together, neither of us had the guts to say or even discuss the same things we talked about on the phone. I never called a porn line to have a woman talk dirty to me. Why should I pay for it when I had her?

Then the internet came and I discovered chat rooms and instant messaging. With that came cyber sex. Being able to type dirty thoughts, and imagine what the she was doing on the other end. I don't know of anyone who has not had cyber sex. If they tell you they never have, take as many steps backwards as quickly as possible. Those hairs standing up on the back of your neck is the electricity in the air from the lightning bolt that is about to come down and strike that person.

Why are people so quick to type/text or even say things on the phone to another but when you are face to face, you are not so quick to discuss the same things. Just the other day I had this exact same conversation with another friend. It is because it is VERY EASY to hide behind the phone or computer monitor and say these things and not feel embarrassed or even rejection from the other when you say these things. In a sense, many people consider it taboo to think those thoughts, let alone say them in person. But taboo is what really turns everyones crank in one way or another. I admit, I am the same way. I am quick to text a dirty thought to a woman, but when I see that woman face to face, sometimes I have a hard time acting out that same thought. It happens. In our minds, we are thinking about that text, but for whatever reason, the fear in us prevents us from bringing it up.

I know many times you have read in my blog where I talk about communication. I expect it. I demand it. But even I fail at it sometimes. I am human after all. We all make mistakes. So fuck it. It happens. Besides, when you both are thinking the same thing. When you can see it in their eyes that they are thinking the same as you. Sometimes it is best left unsaid. Just makes the fantasy even more intense. In a sense, you are mind fucking that person, as they are mind fucking you. Hell, you are mind fucking yourself when the anxiety of it drives you mad with lust. It has happened to me. Does that make me a samasochists? A sadist and masochist in one? Inflicting mental and emotional pain on myself? I just heard a collective slap. By a show of hands, how many of you just slapped your foreheads and screamed "I shouldve had a V8?" Ok, maybe you didn't say the V8 but many of you subconsciously slapped your foreheads. Damn I love it when I am right. Hey, you don't like my ego, quit reading. No one is holding a gun to your head.

The negative aspect is some people turn out to be all talk. These people will not act out on those thoughts. Many people get online and chat with you pretending to be someone else. This goes along the lines of the fakes and wannabes. They are out there. They have been and will be forever. Not much we can do. You can talk a good game. But unless you act on it, it is just a fucking game. You want to play games with me? Sure, I will play. I love monopoly. If you want to play mind games with me, be ready to get your mind kicked. I do NOT lose at mind games.

My final thought is this. It is very easy to hide behind something and confess your thoughts and feelings. It is hard to look someone in the eyes and confess those same things. Nothing wrong with that. I use this blog to write about my experiences and my thoughts. After all, I just cant go out and strike up this sort of conversation with a stranger on the street. Maybe one stranger out of a hundred will listen to me. But a majority will look at me like I am 12 donuts short of a dozen.

Life is short. Have fun. And if you want to write/text or tell me over the phone your dirty and perverted thoughts, by all means do. I will even share some of my own.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

The one that got away.....

Lately, my life has been on a roller coaster that I described in an earlier post. I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read my blog, commenting on posts and sending me well wishes. I have chatted/spoken with all of you and everyone agrees I should go public with my blog. I am going to post a link on my collar me profile and hope I gain more readers. Several of my posts as of late have been inspired by you, the readers. This post today is going to reflect on more experiences of my own.

When I first moved to Lexington, I didn't know a soul except for the people I worked with. I surfed the personal sites both lifestyle and vanilla seeking new friends. On one site, I started a friendship with a young woman in Northern Ky. We chatted a lot, both on the computer and then via phone. We formed an instant bond and after a time we decided to meet for the first time. I drove to her area, met her for dinner and enjoyed some laughs. We had instant chemistry. Eventually the day came we decided to push it farther and I went to her house. I admired her for her hard work and determination. Here was a 24yo young lady who was a new home owner and had drive and ambition to work and get what she wanted in life.

That night, we had fun with bondage, flogging and paddling. We also did a lot of sensation play while she was blindfolded. Ice cubes, wire brush, a horse brush and even my metal flogger. One thing in particular that stands out from that night was how she never hesitated to do anything I asked of her. I had her standing in the middle of the room, a large wooden dowel across her shoulders with her arms strapped to it. She looked as if she was on a cross, but without an upright. We used these very small clamps on her nipples. They looked very similar to a small stock. but instead of putting your head in, her nipple fit in their perfectly. Using the wing nuts to tighten the wood down made her nipple stand out. The look of pain in her eyes, her trying to breath through that pain, just fueled me on. Talk about my emotions feeding off another. I was on fire. My mind raced, my heart pumped and my grin was more evil then before. I remember using a wheel on her skin. Up and down her back, across her ass. Down her legs, picking up her foot, and running the wheel across the bottoms of her feet. As I came back up the front of her body, I had her spread her legs and ran the wheel across her smooth hairless crotch. Paying very close attention to running the wheel over her labia lips and across the hood of her clitoris. She was biting her lower lip so hard, I thought she was going to bite right through it. I noticed she had stopped breathing so as I stood, still running the wheel across her stomach, I whispered into her ear in a low husky voice "Do not stop breathing. Take a deep breath and enjoy the sensations." Her mouth flew open and inhaled deeply as I ran the wheel across her breasts. I removed the blindfold from her head and stared into her eyes. The fire and lust in her eyes was so intense. The look on her face was one I had never seen before. Animalistic does not even come close to describing it. I had stopped the wheel on her left nipple. She returned the look into my eyes and leaned forward to try and kiss me. When I pulled away, the evil smile on my face, I noticed she had pierced herself on the wheel. As I pulled the wheel away to look at the blood on the spike, she leaned forward, bent slightly and licked the blood from the spike. I turned away from her, placing the wheel on the table and reached for my knife.....

I am going to stop there. I don't want to tell everything about my adventures. Lets just say I made a HUGE mistake letting this one get away. Last I heard, she was married, had one kid with another on the way. I guess you could say that is the fish that got away.

Again, thank you all for reading my blog.

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.