Steellover

I've posted a lot over the last year about where I grew up and having nostalgic thoughts about my old childhood home.  I am sure you are probably getting sick of it, but this is the last time I swear.  I was digging through some old photos on my hard drive and I found this one.  Although my old house is not visible in this shot, it wasn't that far from here.  Back in the day I would climb to the top of this hill and sit and watch the fog roll in, and the breeze would cool things off in the evening.  Aaah, San Francisco.  I miss this view, not just for the nostalgia, but mainly because right now, it is 100 degrees here, the air quality index is in the "Purple" (Utterly Horrendous) category due to all the wildfire smoke, and there is never any fog or breeze to cool things off at night, and we could certainly use some of it. Days like these, you could wake up at 2 AM and it's still 90 degrees outside.  Get up and go to work in the morning and by 7:45  it's already in the 80s. (And smells like a campfire and kinda LOOKS like fog, but it's smoke, trust me.)  There is plenty to do here in the summer, anyway.  If it wasn't so smoky I'd still brave the heat and go out for a ride. Maybe it will drift away soon.

San Francisco does have a far better and more active kink community than we do here.  I was too young to appreciate that back in the day.  But it also costs over two and a half grand a month in rent for a one-bedroom apartment in the "Bad" part of town, so it's a trade-off I guess.    

I took a short hike this past weekend.  Short, because it was too hot (over 100 degrees) to go for a longer hike without risking heat exhaustion and dehydration.  And because, though it doesn't show in this photo, the area was thick with smoke and carbon dioxide, due to forest fires (This picture was from an earlier trip.)  Anyway, this place always speaks to me.  The canyon is a little slice of Rivendell, a rushing creek with steep canyon walls, and spires that resemble towers, castles and cathedrals.  So I walked up to the top of the canyon rim and just basked in it, and literally baked in it, before the heat drove me back to lower ground.  It was a nice get away. Sometimes I just need that, to reflect on things. Not a lot happening this weekend, too hot; and everyone was holed up because of the heat and smoke. 

The weekend before last, we had our annual get together for the 4th.  Celebrating our freedoms the usual way, fireworks, beer and brotz.

Beer, as in "non-alcoholic beer."  You see, it was a sobriety party.  One friend celebrated one year of sobriety, the other one is at two years now, The other at five years, and the rest of us were in solidarity with them.

I've known these guys for many decades, and we all partied like rock stars back in our 20s. But it catches up to you eventually.  You can't keep up the wild life forever, as much as you think you can.  It was fun then, and I don't regret it, well, as least not that much (I did some stupid drunk crap when I was a kid that I certainly do regret now), but there's no way I could live like that now.   For one reason or another, more and more of my friends are giving up alcohol, whether it is for health reasons, or in one case, he simply had no choice- it was literally, quit drinking or die.  And over the years I've seen more than one friend pay the ultimate price when their addiction caught up to them.  While most of us "Slow down" as far as the partying goes, as we get older, some of my friends did the opposite- they sped up!  Partying harder in their 30s and 40s than they did in their early 20's-  and crashed and burned as a result.

I feel lucky that I can still have the occasional glass of wine or beer, but I've dialed it way back, and of course when I'm around my non-drinking friends, I will always abstain as well, to support them.  

So we had a fun, sober 4th.  The fireworks were awesome, the brotz were filling, and it was still a good time, just like the old days.  But no hangovers, no fear of "Getting pulled over" or having to hitch a ride home, just good old times with the bro's.  And to those out there who are batting their addiction, one day at a time, know that you have my respect and support.

So that's all I got.  Although it's two weeks late, happy 4th!

Sometimes I watch those ghost/paranormal documentary shows, because it can be somewhat interesting.  On the shows they talk about attachments, both the attachments of a spirit to a place, or even a person.

They walk around these dark places, picking up occasional unexplained loud bangs, or white mist-like "anomalies," and sometimes they'll hear random words on a ghost box, or see a dancing stick figure on a special camera.

Sometimes I feel like I have trouble letting go of attachments.  Both good and negative.  Letting go of the good memories and good times, of old places, where I lived, grew up and experienced joy and comfort.  Letting go of past romantic crushes, past relationships, and even letting go of the negative stuff, of old wounds, of insults, being wronged, bad times, bad choices.  

And I want to let go.  Especially when it is time.  After I die, I don't want to end up just being just a dancing stick figure on an SLS camera, or a floating white orb, making unexplained loud bangs just to mess with the ghost adventurers.  It is time to move on.  

Maybe moving on means learning from the experiences and letting them enrich you, rather than holding on to old hurts or old grief.  And really re-learning what it is to live in the now, and look forward to good things to come.   The last few times I have returned to my home town it felt like that, it really felt like being a ghost, stuck in the past that has long since moved on.  Especially the most recent trip, when I helped Mom move into an assisted living, and said goodbye to my childhood home forever.  There is so much going on right here though, that is interesting and relevant.  

I have heard of many guys who want to wear a chastity device, but who are into having a "long distance" keyholder, or a casual pro domme as a keyholder.  Nothing wrong with that arrangement if you are into that, and I say this not to judge, but it's not my thing, and here's why.

Before I surrender the keys to my sexual release to you, I want to get to know you, and trust you intimately.  I want our relationship to be established, to build from more than just a brief dialogue with a stranger over the internet. Before I surrender my cock cage key, I want our relationship to grow into something meaningful and long-term, where the bond of trust, the butterflies of romance, and the dynamic of submission is already well established.  My keyholder will be someone I love, cherish, and respect, and interact with on an intimate basis, regularly.  Not just during a once-in-a-while session.  And certainly not someone I only know by an image on a computer screen.  (Who could be any person of any gender behind that image on that screen.)

Surrendering the key to my device should be an act of love, of devotion, and not something I would freely give up to just anyone.  And I suppose I am far more particular on that, then many subs. Part of this is practical; what if, for example, you have an emergency, and need to remove it, and the only address you have for your keyholder is some PO box two states away?  But part of it is, devotion and trust is not something I give lightly, and the same goes for my cock-cage key.  That, I am saving for my future mistress, domme, girlfriend, and life partner to be- if she will accept it.

For those who want to experiment with chastity play and the wearing of a device, I would say, be your own keyholder first. Then you will be ready when the right person comes along, to hand it off to her.

Life is a journey, and with it comes battles.  

Of those that are relevant to this subject, my greatest battle was self-acceptance.  Coming to terms with the fact that yes, I am submissive, sexually.  I like to please, and derive more pleasure in giving pleasure than receiving, and be told what to do, and to be "disciplined" when I fail. As a guy this isn't easy to accept.  I was told this once, early on, and I even remember arguing against it, until that day when I saw a video of a pro dungeon, and it was like a pandora's box had awoken a flood of feelings. And at first, while I tried to accept it, I was overwhelmed with the usual sub-frenzy and cringeworthy newbie mistakes that a lot of kinky guys make.  Feeling these things for the first time was, to put it mildly, pretty intense.  I've "Binged and purged," many times, trying to swear off these feelings.  But they always return. So I've accepted it, and I am at peace with myself. Finally.  Battle is over.

Then there was the struggle to learn about what it really means to be submissive, to get over the sub-frenzy fueled mistakes of not knowing.  I feel like I am winning that one, but there is always more to learn.  Experience is the best teacher.

But the next battle was for acceptance of others.   I cannot expect the mainstream vanilla society to just accept my submissive nature, but that's fine; my intimate personal life and romantic/sexual relationships are nobody else's business anyway.  So I keep it to myself, stay in the closet, and express my thoughts only to people who I know would understand.  People like you who read this.  (And thank you for reading it by the way.)  In any case I am far more than just "A Submissive." I am a graphic artist, white collar technical worker, musician, outdoor adventurer, sports fan, and much more. Most people who know me, know me for one or more of these things.  None of them know about... this stuff.  So I guess this battle was fought to a stalemate, but that's fine; call it a cease-fire.

The last battle is to find a compatible partner who will accept me as I am and who is okay with it.  Not creeped out, or simply unsatisfied, if not scared off  This is the toughest one, and the battle continues.  I've had my trysts with professionals of course and whatever short term satisfaction there was only left me empty and lonely afterwards. 

So that's all I got.  America just battled to a soccer victory over some European team despite being a man down, so if there's hope there, then there is hope for victory.  Forward into countless battles!

Sometimes I wish I could just stop time.

Those perfect moments where, you are in the moment, everything is bliss, and you don't want time to ever progress.

Those moments are fleeting, but I hold onto them forever.

Sitting by a swimming hole in the river with your best buddies, on a warm summer day in the sunshine, diving off the rocks, splashing around.  

Watching the sun set over the ocean, on a buddy's back porch.

Ripping down the mountain on a perfect snow day, or blasting down a trail on a warm summer evening. 

Being in the glow of deep subspace, basking in your dominant's presence and your own submission, or a perfectly vanilla moment, watching the sun set in the hills together. 

That camping trip up river where the oly stubby bottles all floated away down the river because we had them in there to keep cool, and where Nick had that howling call-and-response duet with that coyote.  It was an awesome time- even with the lost beer, and made it hard to come back to work the next day.

That perfect solo trip up to that mountain lake last summer. 

You just want to stop time.   Sit up on that mountain forever, keep taking runs on that perfect snow day and never get tired, and keep each other warm watching that sunset, stretching that moment forever. Not even Einstein could do that.

So last month, Mom sold our house.  It had to happen; she's in an assisted living place now and there was no logical reason to keep it as our own personal "Air Beianbee." Nor the upkeep funds, which she obviously needed.  That place she's at isn't cheap.   So while my logical mind has long since accepted it, and emotionally I have long since done so as well, subconsciously I still dream about it, sometimes reliving that last day where I walked through it and grabbed what I could out of there, other times reliving the good moments, the perfect family moments- Christmases, happy occasions, harmony, sanctuary from a troubled world- that I don't ever want to let go of.

I had hoped that the buyers would be a family with kids, who would grow up there, and who would enjoy the place as we did when we were kids.  Tromping through the hills and woods below, playing ball in the street, riding bikes around the block, having kid adventures, and running up and down stairs and through the living room and dining room, laughing, playing, and sometimes arguing, the way we did.  That's how I imagined it, what I hoped and dreamed.  But sadly, it appears the buyers are just some big time billionaire property investor types, whose only plan is to "Fix it n' flip it," like what happens to so many other homes these days.  They offered $400,000 over the already impressive 2 million+ asking price.  That's cash, not financed, mind you.   Mom had no choice but to accept an offer like that. I get it, money talks, but money cannot buy you those perfect, genuine, lasting moments that we had. 

And I only hope that the future will offer more of those moments, those perfect times where you just want to slow down and not let time slip away. 

Right off the bat, there's not gonna be any "racy" stuff this time. Some may see this as a good thing, some may be dissappointed, but it seems like no matter what I write, I can't please everyone...  

So this is for anyone who's ever travelled through Nevada.  If you haven't been there, or even if you have, you usually just think "Las Vegas, Deserts, Hoover Lake (you know, the lake that is dammed up by Hoover Dam) or maybe some area 51 aliens type stuff.  So a couple weeks back, I took a trip through the back roads of northern Nevada, just because... nobody else ever goes there, so why not. You wouldn't believe what I found, and it was both amazing, beautiful, and weird in a way you would never suspect.  

After heading south from Mountain Home, Idaho, I ended up passing through some hard-scrabble border towns (Owyhee and Mountain City) then took a detour on some back road.  The aspens, mountains, and wildflowers were gorgeous here. Tall stands of white aspens, wildflowers galore, rugged mountains and just green- green everywhere.  Not the Mars-like desert you expect.  So eventually I ended up at what is probably the weirdest town I have ever been to- Tuscarora.  It sits, out there off by itself, at the end of a dirt road, miles from anything important, the nearest town of any size (Elko) being over an hour away.  This place was just... fucking WEIRD.  But in a really cool way.  Imagine "The Hills Have Eyes" mixed with "Mad Max" and a healthy dose of Burning Man, and you might have an idea what this place was like.  Most of the buildings here were in various stages of decomposition and disrepair, but those that were standing were just... the residents who lived here (of which I would guess there were maybe two or three dozen or so) felt like "Fuck it; we can do whatever we want!  Just go nuts!"  You'd see things like an old model T pickup with a skeleton in it.  Giant sculptures of a huge slipper and a detergent bottle in the yard.  There was an old hotel labeled "Pottery School." Where apparently, they actually do hold pottery classes.  Random rusted machinery of all descriptions- old appliances, motors, and who knows what else, just strewn everywhere.  And this giant brick tower plopped on the western edge of town.  Because, I guess, Why not?  The pictures don't do it justice, but I'll upload some: 

Anyway, I spend the afternoon just wandering around here, then drove down to Winnemucca to spend the night.  There was this carnival type thing going on, live rock n' roll, carnival booths, food, and so on, which was pretty fun.

Then the next morning, I could have just shot straight up highway 95 to Boise but, that would be boring, right?  No, I instead headed over to Paradise Valley, a quaint, and really cool little back country town with all kinds of historic old buildings, part ghost town and part functioning modern village.  The little store here served lunch and drinks, and everyone was super friendly here.  Then, over two mountain passes, where the scenery got more and more spectacular, and the road got moree and more progressively gnarlier.  If you've never driven over Windy Gap pass, well, let me say there are few roads that inspire sheer white knuckle shrieking terror more than this road.  It just switchbacks steeply down the face of the mountain, the dirt road about as wide as your vehicle... and with 1000 foot drop-offs.   In other words, it was awesome... once you make it to the bottom. Anyway, it was all in all, a super fun little adventure, and fun to check out some places that not many other people would venture.  Maybe there's a good reason for that, ha ha.

"I know you better than you know yourself," she says.

"I know all of your innermost secrets, your deepest, darkest secrets.  I know what you secretly crave, your most intimate desires, and your deepest and most secret needs.  And I know how to make them come true."

"And our bond is deeper and more intense than that of any of my casual lovers," she adds.  "They satisfy a different craving, that you cannot.  Your submission satisfies me in a deeper way than they ever could."

Kneeling, naked and bound in front of her, I nod eagerly.  She has summed it up perfectly... I would have it no other way.

That is the way I dream of a BDSM relationship working.  A connection on a much deeper, more emotional level than any casual hook up.  A confession, and a realization, of our darkest and deepest fantasies, the parts we keep hidden from the world, and sometimes even hidden from ourselves.

Hopefully the site owners will come to the realization that the forums are not working today.  Don't worry though; I trust they are on top of it. Teasing and denying us through the lack of working forums, like web page chastity.  Once it is fixed, then the release will be awesome! 

When you are hopelessly locked up,

And those old memories, that old need, comes back, memories of what you once enjoyed, 

And your need for sex, for penetration, pure raging animal lust, becomes unbearable...

The want, the need to feel Her body as She teases and torments you, grinds against your caged cock and the discomfort becomes more than you can stand... 

Are you going to be a whiny bratty sub, begging for a release that you have not yet earned, and thereby earn a session of hard discipline?

Or will you tough it out, and live vicariously through Her lover, imagining yourself in his place as he satisfies her for you, relishing and worshipping his cock like a surrogate, as She wishes.  Let his satisfaction become yours.

If you do the latter, the release you will earn will be so much more satisfying than any casual sex could ever be.