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New Beginnings

He who has a why to live can bear almost any how. - Friedrich Nietzsche

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars. - Khalil Gibran

Often times what is missing, is the truth - B
3 years ago. July 20, 2020 at 3:32 AM

     I have often struggled with who I am and how I fit in this world. For many I have felt as if I was living with one foot in the world and one foot outside of it, it was as though I didn't belong here. I've never felt comfortable around people, I would prefer to sit and watch them move and interact.  Up until the time I was 23, I didn't have any sense of my own identity, I could probably attribute that to 16 plus years of child abuse from an alcoholic father and an emotionally absent mother, and from moving around 23 times in 23 years. My home life lacked stability to say the least, my parents married and divorced five times before I was nine years old...to each other. The final divorce was when I was nine, crazy uh? Why do I mention this? I have been diagnosed with Quiet (Inward turning) Borderline Personality Disorder, C-PTSD, am a high functioning autistic, and am a failed attempt by my father to be a sociopath (That last one is a little rough). 

     When I first joined The Cage, I blogged about my journey and my struggles. If you read them, none of what I wrote above is new and if you have read my other recent blogs, I had a pretty fucked up way of looking at life. I think, like all of us, I was trying to find my way and my identity within as I was growing up. But, I had no compass, no guide, and no support. I was angry, scared, and thought I couldn't trust anyone...not even myself. This exacerbated the issues I struggled with, I drank, and I attempted to kill myself so many times I lost track.  In 1994 I hit a wall...a big wall, and hard. I hit it so hard that I had a serious crisis of identity. The wreck was so bad that I reexamined every pillar on which my own identity and beliefs stood...and jettisoned all of them. My entire belief structure was worthless, it had been built on a bed of sand and I had used a few toothpicks to hold up the foundation of my house. The foundation I had built was weaker than if I had used cards. I met a few people, then, who actually supported me, encouraged me, and believed in me enough to challenge me to be better than I was. It was hard at first and I made a ton of mistakes, hell, I still do. But they never gave up on me. They saw that I cared and wanted to be different. I wanted to change, and slowly I did change. See, they saw beyond the monster I had become, and saw type of person I could be. They saw something in me that I didn't want to see for myself. I had to become a monster in a way, so that I wouldn't be afraid of my father anymore. The problem is, I became the type of monster that other monsters ran from because I had no morals, no virtue, no compass.

     The people around me couldn't help me navigate these things, they really had no clue what to say or in what direction to point me. All they could do was cheer me on as I struggled. It was what I needed, though, although it wasn't what I wanted. When I realized what I had become, I knew I had to change. So, I struggled...and clawed, and fought, and bled my way through all the muck, and shit, and pain that I was buried under. I'd like to say that when I broke through the surface, it was all rainbows and sunshine after...but, I'd be lying. No, my dear reader, it's been a struggle ever since...but it has gotten better and a little easier. Recently, I had a conversation with someone on here (ok, more than one), about some of my current struggles...and he shared with me things about himself that were similar to me. He couldn't give me the answers I wanted, the way I wanted, nut he gave me something more...understanding. See, I don't think we are meant to give people the answers, in fact, I know we aren't. The hardest lessons we learn are the one's we struggle with. I remember, as a child, whenever I got into trouble (which was a lot), I would  punish myself. The worst thing I could do was be grounded from playing with my leggos. So, I would ground myself every time I believed I did something wrong...that on top of what my parents did when they discovered what I had done.

     So, why am I saying all this? Because I have spent many years learning how to master myself, my mind, my actions, my attitude, and most of all, my emotions. I am convinced that life is painful. We are going to suffer and struggle (sorry to break it to you) and the goal is not to alleviate suffering, but to build our character through it. Will I fail at this, most assuredly. I will never be perfect, I am a fallible, fucked up, fragmented human being who will continue making mistakes and inadvertently hurting others. I rarely say the right things, although I think the intention is good. I at least try to think before I speak and measure my words. I will never attain my goal, at least not in this lifetime. But, then again, I'm not meant to...and neither are you. It's not about the destination, but about the process.

     If I have to admit my faults and acknowledge I make mistakes, why would I expect more from someone else? If I needed to struggle and fight to learn the things I did, why would I think someone else would be better off if I (or someone else) gave them the answers?  I think to expect more from someone else is just downright arrogance. This leads me to the title of this blog...Who I am...

     I am a Dominant (striving to be a Master). Am I a Dominant because I like to control and order my submissive around? Do I expect her to jump when I speak? That is immature and stupid thinking. Do I expect her to come into this relationship without issues, baggage, or problems? Again, if I thought that, I probably need to go back to Dominant school, first grade. I am a Dominant because I want to care for, take responsibility for, help nurture, and support someone who thinks enough of me to really respect what I think and say, someone who trusts me deeply and knows I have her best interest in every decision I make. Wait, that's how I would define a submissive, generally speaking. I know and I expect my submissive will make mistakes, hell, I hope she does. Some can be worse than others, but mistakes will be made...she isn't perfect. How can I treat her any differently than I would ask to be treated? If she is willing and wants to continue growing and learning, mistakes will happen. The difference is that she doesn't stay there, she gets back up, admits the mistake, and keeps growing. There is no such thing thing as too terrible a mistake if it was made in the course of character development.  That is my privilege as a Dominant, to help her master herself so that she can be the best she can be at whatever it is she chooses to be and do.

     I often tell people how proud I am of my daughter, who is 26. She and I have had a rough relationship, but somewhere along the way, something changed. We both developed a deep sense of respect for one another. She stopped seeing me as someone who wanted to dictate who she was to be, and I stopped seeing her as a bratty, immature, selfish child. Through our discourses, I started teaching her how to fish, and stopped trying to give her a fish a day. She thrived, not because of me or anything I have done, but because she had the freedom to discover her own identity (within the boundaries I built). But it was she who struggled and did the work, not me. I am just as proud of my submissive, not because she submits to me...not at all. See, in order for things like trust, respect, honor, and communication to develop, two people are going to have their struggles and fights. I was a firefighter, both civilian and in the military. We could train all day, every day on what to do when the call came in to go fight a fire. But, you never really knew, I mean never really knew deep down, whether or not you could trust the person next to you until the time came to run into a burning building or aircraft. Is he willing to put his ass on the line next to you, to find that person inside? Is his character such that you can rely on him when you found the body, the charred remains, and still be able to do the job? Is he able to hold it together at the scene of an accident where one person is already dead and the passenger is so drunk that she doesn't realize her knees are up to her face and has compound fractures? Can he see beyond himself enough to take care of his responsibilities? It's the same with relationships.

     We never really know until the shit hits the fan how someone, or even us, will respond. When I was going through my struggles (learning to swim, an analogy), I hoped that the people around me wouldn't just walk away and let me drown. If I didn't want that, how can I walk away from my responsibility now?  As a Dominant, I believe it is my privilege to struggle along side my submissive. I am supposed to be an example for her, support for her, guide her, encourage her, and yes, to even forgive her. For if I don't forgive her, how can she learn to forgive herself? Now, let's not be misguided here, it's not all sunshine and roses with me. I am a Dominant, I do have expectations. I expect to learn about her, who she is, and who she wants to become. I expect to communicate with her about her desires and how we can provide structure to her life so that she can grow and thrive. I expect to be involved in the decision making process with the final say (what I call the Dom card). To me, my submissive is a human being who yearns for structure, self-discipline, guidance, and support. I yearn for a really deep relationship, it's what I need in my life. I have desires also, like she does. I have a tension inside, something I refer to as a Tasmanian Devil (Yep, think if the cartoon). When let loose, he can cause a hell of a lot of damage. Which is why he needs to be let out on occasion and in a controlled, focused manner. To me, letting someone see this chaos requires a lot of vulnerability on my part. Keep in mind I am a Dominant...aggressive, serious, and controlled. In my life, how this chaos is released and managed is through rough, aggressive sex...hence the sexual sadism. But I need to trust her enough to accept me and see me in that vulnerability, with the need to be aggressive and rough, to use her and defile her (always SSC) to appease the chaos within.  It takes a great deal of energy to keep the chaos caged within, that's the intensity I struggle with every day. If it's let out to roam, believe me, really bad shit happens.  But how can I trust her enough to let her see that aspect of me? It requires time, communication, and walking through some tough times.

     I thrive on seeing people grow and learn and become better than they were yesterday. I have learned just as much from my daughter, and especially from my submissive, as I have ever taught them...and I value that above all else. Through their struggles, I have learned a great deal about life and about myself. Things I could never have learned without those times. Damn, I really like the idea of self-growth and challenges. Anyway, I could say a lot more but I'll stop boring you. Get your coffee and get out of my house...until next time...

To B and DD, thank you for your time, friendship, and wisdom. Thank you for letting me use you as a sounding board and for being the catalyst for clearing my mind.

To my submissive, Heart of Persephone, I appreciate you and value you more than you could ever know. You are an amazing woman. Thank you for allowing me to be me and for believing in me and in yourself.

Note* This blog was not edited for spelling or grammatical errors...and I'm not really this goddamn sappy, just trying to vocalize my view on being a Dominant. I must be on my man period or something. 

3 years ago. May 21, 2020 at 5:52 PM

     He just finished getting ready to leave the house when his phone signaled she had sent a text, "I'm sorry, Sir. I just couldn't wait." was all it said.  He walked out to his car, "Yes, she will have to be punished for this" he thought to himself, a slight smile appearing on his face. He lived only minutes from her house, conveniently on his way to work. He quietly pulled into her driveway, got out, and walked up to her front door. When he opened the door, he refrained from showing any emotion with the sight he beheld in the dimly lit living room. There she was, leaning back in a rocking chair, her ass on the edge and her legs were spread. She had removed one leg from her pants, but the fabric remained bunched up at the ankle of her other leg, her underwear nestled inside her pants. Her shirt was still intact and pulled down, her hands were between her legs, massaging her cunt and clit. She was focused on the TV screen not six feet in front of her; two women, touching, caressing, kissing...enjoying each other.  As she watched the screen, he could see her eyes, narrow and sightly glazed over, her mouth open just a little, and her breathing was a little heavier. When he walked in, she looked over at him and whispered, "I'm sorry, Sir. It feels soo good."

     He gently closed the door and slowly walked over to the side of her chair. He glanced at the screen and then down at this beautiful creature laying below him. He leaned over, cupped her chin with two fingers and raised he face to look at his. At the same time, his other hand snaked under hers and felt how utterly drenched her cunt was, and pushed two fingers inside her, causing her to gasp. "Yes," He said, "you will have to be punished. But right now I want you to enjoy yourself." He continued to fuck her with two of his fingers, curling them and rubbing the top of her pussy. She covered his hand with one of hers, trying to push him deeper, at the same time stroking her clit with her other hand. Her breathing became more labored, her mouth opened a little more, as she watched intently what was happening on the TV screen. As her back arched, he could tell she was getting close. She looked into his eyes and whispered, "Please, Sir," almost pleading with him.  He extracted his fingers from inside her,  stood up, and said, "You may continue playing with yourself." As he did so, he unzipped his pants, took his cock out, and gently pushed it past her wet lips and into her warm mouth. Taking a handful of her hair, he began to thrust himself in and out of her mouth. Hungrily she accepted, like someone ravenous for food, starving for nourishment.  He whispered, "Fuck yourself, you little cunt. Swallow my cock, feed on it, Pet." That was all she needed, her moans increased and her breathing became erratic as the waves of release washed over her, causing her body to stiffen and her wetness to drench her fingers.

     Without waiting for her to recover, he grabbed her hips and flipped her over so she was on her knees, her waist on the edge of the chair. Without removing his clothes, he knelt down behind her, put one hand around her throat, and shoved himself into her. He leaned over and grunted in her ear, "Dirty little girls who cannot wait do not deserve gentleness. Are you my naughty little slut?" As he began thrusting harder, she groaned, "Yes, Sir...I'm your little slut." He put his other hand on her shoulder, both to steady himself and to pull her back onto him, his other hand squeezing under her jaw, just below the ears. "Please, fuck me, cum in me, Sir" she whispered in between thrusts..."Use me."  She then felt him stiffen, his hands squeezing tighter, as he exploded inside of her. Breathlessly he slumped forward, caressing her cheek, "Such a good girl, my beautiful Pet, I'll punish you later." He whispered.