The Grump is Here

I'm an old fart that there is no denying and pish posh about your only as old as you feel , well there's times I'm a hundred then ! 

Being an old hairy arsed grumpy Irish fuck wit I've garnered some insights into living my life. Like yes don't celebrate the start of masturbation week on the bus or in fact in most public places it's high risk and can cause over grip bordering on strangulation , yikes. 

I've learned things like sleep is helpful food too and it's always good to talk but once more not in public especially if you're loudly talking to yourself as some cheeky feckers try to get involved you know sheesh 🙄. 

My BDSM journey I would have said 7/8 months ago had come full circle sort of. I knew what I wanted , what I liked what I didn't like and who turned my eye and who made me get back on that bus again. 

Or so I fecking thought.

Wait, what you mean you've changed your mind ? Your grumpy old fart stubborn as fuck mind has been put in doubt over its certainty as too what who why you are  in the BDSM world ! It can't be you're too much of a fuck wad to admit change allow change or even consider change how can this be . 

Yup. 

I've had some new messages get through my thick skull and it's caused a bit of a sea change within.

I still have some unmovable set in stone likes dislikes that are firmly rooted and I don't even question their existence.

However.

There has been new ideas I never really explored before and I've found myself going down these roads a bit now and then and the trips have become more frequent. I knew they were there I just never felt the draw to them out of maybe not understanding, ignorance on my behalf , not meeting the right woman to show me the possibles , I don't know I can't say other than it's different now. 

I'm excited to be honest. Excited to find something new someone new at this stage in my life my BDSM life . I feel a little humbled that I proved myself wrong that I can learn new things and I can accept new things and that the hairy arsed grump is that not bad an ogre after all. 

For me now it's going to be watch this space.....fuck knows what's going to happen but it's bloody exciting. 

Yesterday I was asked this question : why don't you want my submission? 

Now I answered like this.

Because I didn't ask you for your  submission as I hardly know anything about you and besides I wouldn't ask it's yours to offer not mine to take. 

Her reply was : well that's a stupid reason.

How so I replied back .

Well you're a dominant and I'm a submissive so it's obvious you would want my submission then. 

Is it.

Is it really.

I asked her if she wanted me to be her dominant ( with no interest at this stage I was playing devils advocate) and her reply was :

No not really now as you made me ask you.

You just said to me that I'm a dominant and your a submissive so it's supposed to be is it not !

Confused reading this ? 

Oh boy you're not alone I think in the end I agreed to coach her women's class in how to throw stones at passing traffic while wearing heels .....my headache set in then.

         Sometimes I think quietly and                        sometimes I think aloud 

               My thoughts to actions

           carefully divided into fractions

My eyes will see the path

my hands will follow the lines 

Everytime her words are written 

my lust folds  gets smitten 

There's no light without the dark 

there's pleasure with the pain 

A story of truth or fiction but definitely inspired by an earlier blog from a passing white fluffy thing in the sky , wink wink .

Let's set up the scene. 

A Master and his Submissive together in a hotel room somewhere on the European continent on a fine summers day with pleasant temperatures a gentle breeze and a town full of happy people going about life in the warmth of the suns glow. 

In the hotel room were the usual items,  a bed an ensuite a TV a chair and a few lengths of parachute cord a vibrator , chained nipple clamps an eye mask and a collar of fine soft nubuck with a shiny gold lock , you know the usual things you find in a hotel room. 

So the Dominant , the Master, a fine chap of average looks , hairy arsed , cute smile and a certain naughty charm that could cause the dropping of female knickers almost instantaneously when the charm was switched on. No great shakes this Master was. 

Also present was a fine woman of middle age so between 18 and 99 years old most probably. Her clear and utterly self  adored title was Submissive her nature submissive and her mind submissive and this day her body was submissive. 

How enticing she looked sitting on the chair her hair tied in a loose scrunchy but doing enough to coral. Her body of sweet curves dimples and little islands of freckles was adorned with soft black lacy underwear a work of art garter belt set and sheer denier of black stockings, she was the most yummy looking licorice alsort just waiting to be devored all up ....yum yum.

The Master , that charming Master had used the parachute cord lengths to bind this delightful Submissive to the chair in a network of inticate weaved knots and twists and wraps and as he stood back looking at his handy work , proud, his smile broad,  the Submissive looked at him and softly whispered " time to take that little blue pill " . They both smiled knowingly. Picking up the glass of water the Master oh what a charmer he was , swallowed the pill drank the water and they both looked very pleased like they knew they had the key to some secret. 

The Master began to check his handiwork with the parachute cord and noticed perhaps on closer inspection that some of the knots the twists the weaves weren't as polished in execution as first thought. A question  was asked to which the reply was at first a gentle no then this no was a bit more pronounced . Some kerfuffling with the parachute cord was instigated and again the same question was asked but this time the same answer of no was clearly in the company of a tone that was slightly panicked. 

Hmm. The Master oh how cute he was , he began to pull and tug at the parachute cords twists knots and weaves while the Submissive now clearly growing in worry still answered no to the same question again. The Master threw out a fact like a bucket of water out the window " I'm dyslexic and these knots and weaves and twists are kind of confusing me a bit ," ...the reply "you're what now!? you're fucking telling me that now for what !?" and the very noticable absence of delicate submission was clear to all. 

As the Master bent in trying to deciefer the maze of knots and twists and weaves of the parachute cord there a little grunting , puffing , body pushing , pulling  when from a stray movement not terribly well choreographed the charming Masters glasses were displaced tumbling down  over the now agitated Submissive's body and falling to the ground milliseconds before into the space of where the Master's foot was now being placed and a sound scrunching  echoed throughout the hotel room on this fine warm summers day. 

Then silence. 

No movement from either person. 

Slowly the recently placed foot was moved and there beneath on the soft carpeted floor were  glasses frames askew and lens cross crossed with little sprouts of lines.

Fuck the word burst the silence .

Followed immediately by "oh my fucking gawd no no no and now the pill is working to " from the no longer sweetly toned Submissive 

The Master looked down at his groin to be greeted by the soldier stiff and straight in readiness for action. 

Right don't panic let's get this sorted , fuck the glasses I'll survive and the boner will go away it's to get this cord of you that's the issue! 

You think was the curt reply.

Just get a knife or scissors to cut the cord and it will be all grand and we can laugh about all this yeah 

Maybe was the reply less curt.

So have you a knife or a scissors ? 

What the fuck would I be doing with carrying a knife or scissors about as the curtness of the tone reappeared 

I only asked .

Ok.

I'll get dressed go down to the lobby and ask at reception im sure they'll have something and don't worry I'll not tell I've you've hog tied up here to the chair in your knickers I'm not stupid.

No curt tone no reply just a look.

So the still very charming hairy arsed Master put on his T-shirt boxers and shorts he already had his runners on hence the now defunked glasses on the bed and turned to leave the room to go downstairs to the hotel lobby.

Ahem 

What ? 

Your fucking boner !!

The Master looked down to be somewhat surprised to see his shorts stretched in a clear and obvious sign he was rocking a stiffy of some strength.

Fuck it ,fuck this weather and wearing shorts fuck fuck.

Just leave your  hand near it keep it pushed in.

Ok .

Out to the lift the Master went .....

Time passed and the tied down slightly bored definitely pissed of but not overly anger Submissive heard that key card in the room door and the Master walked in proudly holding a pair of scissors and then all she saw was his the hard on looking so obvious in his shorts.

Got them he said. 

Thank fuck, she replied , what about the boner you get away with it ?

Oh fuck , FUCK fuckity fuck fuck I completely forget about that I was just so  relieved to have gotten the scissors.

She looked at him he looked at her and it took a second before they both  burst out laughing pissing themselves at the thoughts of everything that just went by. 

Don't.

What a word , albeit abbreviated lol. 

As a kid I heard the word don't more often than most other words and definitely more often than do. 

Don't go there.

Don't do that 

Don't forget to.

Dont say that .

Don't eat that.

Don't.

Don't.

And as a kid I listened , to a point. Kids by nature are inquisitive so don't does not always work.

As I got older the word don't became a challenge. Don't play with fire you'll get burnt , how burnt ? You haven't specified how much I'll get burnt so to clarify this I need to play with the fire. I got burnt of course but I found out exactly how much I can get burnt depending on much I play with the fire. 

I was older now , more adventurous , pushing more buttons , looking for the reactions. 

Don't was now an invitation to me. It invited me to go down that street or in that building or to hang around with this lad or that lad. Good thing about invitations are they can be rejected refused and returned so there's always an out, thankfully because I may have accepted the don't invitation but it didn't mean I knew what the fuck I was doing did it ! Nope. 

So I grew up became a teenager on the cusp of a legally considered adult and the word don't was still following me around, but, due to muscle memory, scars and ringing endorsements I knew that don't no longer was a challenge or indeed an invitation to me but was a guideline, a stop sign , a moment given to think first and then maybe act. 

Adulthood was now my life and society was my path where don't was a pretty strong word . It was a word with many powers and I had become respectful of it. 

Don't was now this invisible but very real boundary in my life. It kept me from doing things that really didn't work in open society , I mean turning up to work naked from the waist down I don't do that , eating soup in a restaurant with a fork I don't do that , or sitting under the chair instead of on it I don't do that.

Don't now kept me safe. It gave me a job , a family , a mortgage  even gave me health because I knew I don't drink water from puddles in the road !

Then again.

Don't , hmm, it was also kinda knocking the free spirit out of me in ways. It began to sterilize my thinking a bit especially about myself. I think it at some point turned me into a cog in a machine I some how had fallen into yet didn't really notice . 

Don't in the context of my BDSM was now more vanilla that vanilla itself. 

Don't had inserted boundaries in my life and upon me that were actually horrible and not really of my conscious doing . 

BDSM then became my fight back against don't. It gave me the word so rarely heard in childhood back and that was do. 

Oh my , do .

I will do. 

You will do .

We will do  

Do. Do. Do 

Does not mean that don't disappeared it just means don't was no longer in charge completely. The invisible boundaries became very clear to see now. 

Don't go to work with your submissive on a leash and collar butt plugged up , no don't but by all means do in the place you can  have your submissive on a leash in a collar happily butt plugged up.

Don't be at a restaurant in nipple clamps and have the server paddling the arse of you or your dining companion while you browse the menu but do be in the place you can wear nipple clamps and paddling arses  like there's no tomorrow while waiting on the food in the oven to cook. 

So don't . 

So do.

For me thankfully I learned the differences between two words , when I do use them and when I don't use. 

Thank fuck for BDSM too I don't know if I could do without it !!! 

A while ago I was floundering in the world and I couldn't understand why really. Life was good I have a home family my hobbies and thankfully I got my health back to point I can live with but,  something was missing. I could sense it but I could not put my finger on it.

I could catch myself maybe having a pint and a laugh and this feeling of missing would just dart through me and disappear as fast as it came. 

I thought at one stage I needed something new to buy something new to fill in this missing feeling I was having. I scrolled online at many things I could buy but nothing seemed to make me go there that's it I want this will stop that missing feeling. I looked and looked and anytime I found something inside I heard a voice telling me , nope don't need it . I'm not a consumer, I'm a bit of a promoters nightmare as I don't buy just because someone tells me in an add or such , I rarely feel the need to purchase something new. 

This missing feeling just sat there like a drunk in a pub  taunting me. 

Then one evening while looking at a favorite TV show of mine a non-descript piece of talking was happening and a single word just resonated  with me and later that night I thought of the word again, and again and again. It began to grow legs this word. 

Submissive. The context I heard it from was one bloke fixing a motorcycle says to his "don't be submissive of my skills" and the word submissive struck like hammer blow. 

My dormant Dom woke up inside me and began shifting about , moving the furniture , opening the curtains , opening windows letting in light and fresh air. 

So a few days later I was on FL. My Dom was alive once more after a break as my health was my priority but now that I was in a better place I had spare brain capacity to think beyond my health and here I was again , the Dom. 

It excited me. I felt like an old friend had come home. However on FL I noticed this old friend had changed through the passage of time and the realities of my health. He was more settled more strongly secure in his ways. I found FL wasn't for me. I did manage to come across a most beautiful human though from Detroit ,cage was and is a beautiful soul a beautiful looking woman and a fantastic submissive. Though we never got to a dynamic we became good friends and in one conversation she mentioned the cage. 

This was how I ended up here , again , as I was here many years previous and had totally forgotten about it. 

It's this that was missing. My Dom. The lifestyle . The people in it ( I was and still am very lucky to have met a wonderful lady a true companion ). The conversations. The flirting. The sexting. The dynamics. The blogs. So on. I know yesterday I made a poorly veiled attempt at grumping , after all I'm a grumpy hairy arsed Irish ould grump of a Dom so naturally I have to grump now and then. Yesterday I was giving out how making the effort and getting silence back can be lonely well today it's time I said something else , something very different. 

That is I want to say : go raibh mhaith agat which is gaelic for thank you very much.

I want to offer my thanks to all the people in here who have allowed me to be myself , who have let my Dom be free , who have made me laugh , made me feel aroused, who have endured my blogs my filthy sense of humour , my piss poor grammar , given me conversations, given me access, shown me my mistakes and helped me find the missing piece.  

I just feel as a Dom I don't thank especially Submissives enough for all what they are and all what they do. The world is currently going through a bullshit phase and everywhere people have some sort of communities they use to help them live well thecage is one of my communities , so thanks again you big bunch of crazy assed adoringly weird as fuck nutjobs unfortunately I'm sticking around still so either block me ignore me or just run away from me because I'm grumpy as fuck! 

There is for me a certain loneliness with being a Dominant. 

The facade has to be a certain way and it can be hard work to keep up the maintenance. 

It's not that I lie to myself and paint over the cracks or worse ignore them until it's now more than a crack and needs a lot more work doing. I walk hand and hand with my Dom self. He's not brash loud or clambering to be front and centre. No . Instead he's the productive of a lot years work. 

So when he sees someone he wants to engage with it's not always to put down his mark or stamp his authority ,no, it's as varied as being struck by something in someone's profile like a photo that resonates or a BDSM checklist that has something in it that he likes , maybe it could be a blog from this someone where he feels compelled to say something, through understanding of the words and through knowledge of this world we walk in BDSM. 

Then, yes of course he can reach out to someone because they have literally attracted him, again,  through a profiles contents from words to a photo he feels he wants make  his presence known. 

It's this presenting himself to someone. No stupid "pick up" lines or ignorant self promotion or sending a dick pic and thinking : ' that will do and that will have her running to me'. He tries to present himself as himself and puts in the efforts , maybe taking a point from the profile or just openly expressing the like of a photo and why it's liked. 

So this is where his loneliness stems from. The silence. The pure silence. The complete and utter opposite of what was there in the profile to make him step forwards and make his presence be seen be known. 

This silence is lonely. It can give the impression he is walking alone that there is no one to walk with because they haven't the perception that being silent can be  lonely to the person who is trying to speak. 

Speaking purely from the context on being a male Dominant and my behaviors I know I have stepped on landmines throughout. 

I'm no oil painting as they say , in fact I consider myself to be in the looks department  basement level perhaps. As for personality I like to think I'm at least the second floor. In terms of my abilities to express myself both verbally and emotionally I'm hoping I'm second floor there too. My Dominant persona is at this stage well developed. I care about my Dom persona I want him to be as best as he can but it's very important to me he retains the personality traits from which he was born and it is without saying that includes the good the bad and the ugly bits. 

In my kink I use humour , at first in the beginning the humour was replicating life as it hid my nerves my insecurities and any hurt. This changed over time. I learned that my humour not longer is a camouflage to hide but to display who I am. 

I also in my kink I can display traits of grandiose selfishness and big headedness which I know is not great but also is meant to be a trait of a Dom and that line between them is very important but also very easy to step over and I've done that and it does make me feel bad. 

It is times where I can not let my hard fought for strands to my Dom's persona slip or change or be watered down and this can cause conflicts can cause confusion and yes can cause hurt. I have sat with myself and questioned should I change to suit ? am I being to rigid? should I compromise more ? These questions can bring shame and bring a stubborn resolve to go one way or the other. I try not to hurt while trying to maintain my own personal standards and this clash can and does feel to me like stepping on a landmine and I've now got to decide. Jump it goes off and I lose a part of me , stay put and I'll eventually get nothing but the inevitable , get recused and I can move forward again. Do I "win" with either of these scenarios , it all depends, it's not guaranteed it's not anything I can answer with confidence but , and there's always a but , I am true to myself in the end and that still I know is important to me. 

If I can not be true to myself If I can not hold myself to high standards how am I expected to hold a dynamic or a submissive to these levels ? How can I expect behavior that I can not maintain myself,  is that not just bullshit then !? So it goes without saying once more I'll step on other landmines no doubt again and again as I know I'm flawed I know I'm capable of fucking up but I also know I'm determined to stay my course to keep my Doms calmness and contentment where I want it and where I have got it too. 

So expect fuck ups but expect none.