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NoOneofConsequence{Taken}dom male
Texas, United States
NoOneofConsequence{Taken}
Age
54
Relationship status
In a monogamous relationship
About me
My wife, as well as my slave, my pet, my little, my submissive, my lover, and my best friend departed this world in October of 2017.
I had been kicking around a little bit on another website writing what might charitably be called erotica (although it was more often cheesy smut). And when I would have turned my face to the wall and followed, friends from there urged me to continue hanging around and trying to write.
There was a woman (when isn't there?) who managed to worm her way past my iron sheathed stone walls as I attempted to run people off who tried to get too close to me. I did not, or so I thought, want to meet anyone new. Did not want anyone to get close to me. Did not want to care about anyone.
However, despite my best efforts... Well, probably the less said about old news, the better.
But, the end result was that I did end up leaving that other website in February due to some... dealings... some mistakes that I would prefer not to rehash.
Mid-March (2019) I was right back in the same position that I'd been in January 2018. Alone, with no one I was speaking to. Very few that even knew I exist, as I'm classified disabled and virtually housebound.
And, was lured to "The Cage" by a well meaning person who wanted to see me fill the void left behind when I'd lost what I had thought I'd found there on that other website. The sense of friendships. Of, perhaps, mattering to someone other than the four-footed roommates.
I had what I had thought was shaping up to be a pretty good run here on The Cage. Had met people that I'd come to think of as friends. And a few that were, maybe, something more...
However, the exact same old business that had chased me from that other site cropped up here, along with some other entanglements, and I found myself lying on the floor with my chair pulled over atop me. With no clear memory how I got there. My heart squeezing and lurching in my chest.
I felt it best to leave The Cage, for at least awhile, and all other sites and places to alleviate as much stress from my life as I might in order to re-obtain my balance. And salvage my threatened health.
And along the way, found a few guiding lights, one particular one that stood out, that helped me to find myself once more. The self that I'd lost amidst the games and machinations of people I was unwise enough to trust with a shard of a my shattered heart LDR since they then proved themselves untrustworthy over and again.
***shrug***
I don't know that I am "back." Either here or over on that other website. I suppose, if anything, I will poke around a bit here and there until and unless it threatens my health again (either physical, psychological, or emotional), driving me to another hiatus which I might or might not return from. We shall see.
In the meantime, a warm thank you to the friends who took advantage of my off-site availability to aid me in my time of need because they cared about me more than just what I could do for them. You know I don't reveal names. But, you know who you are if we exchanged emails. Thank you. You matter, made more of a difference than you yet realize.
I had been kicking around a little bit on another website writing what might charitably be called erotica (although it was more often cheesy smut). And when I would have turned my face to the wall and followed, friends from there urged me to continue hanging around and trying to write.
There was a woman (when isn't there?) who managed to worm her way past my iron sheathed stone walls as I attempted to run people off who tried to get too close to me. I did not, or so I thought, want to meet anyone new. Did not want anyone to get close to me. Did not want to care about anyone.
However, despite my best efforts... Well, probably the less said about old news, the better.
But, the end result was that I did end up leaving that other website in February due to some... dealings... some mistakes that I would prefer not to rehash.
Mid-March (2019) I was right back in the same position that I'd been in January 2018. Alone, with no one I was speaking to. Very few that even knew I exist, as I'm classified disabled and virtually housebound.
And, was lured to "The Cage" by a well meaning person who wanted to see me fill the void left behind when I'd lost what I had thought I'd found there on that other website. The sense of friendships. Of, perhaps, mattering to someone other than the four-footed roommates.
I had what I had thought was shaping up to be a pretty good run here on The Cage. Had met people that I'd come to think of as friends. And a few that were, maybe, something more...
However, the exact same old business that had chased me from that other site cropped up here, along with some other entanglements, and I found myself lying on the floor with my chair pulled over atop me. With no clear memory how I got there. My heart squeezing and lurching in my chest.
I felt it best to leave The Cage, for at least awhile, and all other sites and places to alleviate as much stress from my life as I might in order to re-obtain my balance. And salvage my threatened health.
And along the way, found a few guiding lights, one particular one that stood out, that helped me to find myself once more. The self that I'd lost amidst the games and machinations of people I was unwise enough to trust with a shard of a my shattered heart LDR since they then proved themselves untrustworthy over and again.
***shrug***
I don't know that I am "back." Either here or over on that other website. I suppose, if anything, I will poke around a bit here and there until and unless it threatens my health again (either physical, psychological, or emotional), driving me to another hiatus which I might or might not return from. We shall see.
In the meantime, a warm thank you to the friends who took advantage of my off-site availability to aid me in my time of need because they cared about me more than just what I could do for them. You know I don't reveal names. But, you know who you are if we exchanged emails. Thank you. You matter, made more of a difference than you yet realize.
BDSM and me
Over the last thirty years, there just ain't much that I haven't explored at some point.
Some as a student when I thought I wanted to be a Marriage and Family Therapist specializing in Sex Therapy before realizing that me as an ST is a lot like handing a three-year old a loaded flare gun. You aren't sure just what will happen. But, you do know it will make the papers. And choosing a different professional path.
Quite a bit in practical experience with my wife of twenty-five years (and several others).
Some as a student when I thought I wanted to be a Marriage and Family Therapist specializing in Sex Therapy before realizing that me as an ST is a lot like handing a three-year old a loaded flare gun. You aren't sure just what will happen. But, you do know it will make the papers. And choosing a different professional path.
Quite a bit in practical experience with my wife of twenty-five years (and several others).
Limits
Lying. You don't have to tell me everything. But, what you do tell me had best be the truth if you want me to believe a damn thing else that comes out of your mouth.
Abandonment. If you choose to leave me high and dry, particularly in a time of need, then don't be surprised if I don't rely on you to be there ever again.
Lashing out with the intent to hurt me or those I care about. I see absolutely no reason to believe if you do it once, that you won't do it again.
However, I do know that shit happens. And people have a bad day. And make bad choices. So, I follow the three strike rule. Each lie is one strike (whether it's told to me or someone else). Each abandonment is one strike. Lashing out at me with the intent to hurt me is an automatic two strikes. (At someone I care about in order to hurt me is an automatic three.) Three strikes, and you're out.
Additionally, I had a deep seated phobia. While working detention units, I often had death threats against me (yawn) and against my family. I wore a wedding ring, but not only did not display pictures of my wife, nor did I carry any in my wallet. Further, I never used her name, nor gave away any identifying details. Not only not in front of inmates, but even with my co-workers. (In fact, I can only remember three that ever even met her.)
Protecting her was my primary duty, and I have half a lifetime of doing so by not revealing her identity.
Revealing who is important to me, their identity, makes me feel like I am painting a target on them for any who might have issue with me, even though I am, in truth, no one of any consequence to any but a very few any more. But, it doesn't matter that probably no one is yet still out to harm me through harming those close to me. What matters is that people knowing who is important to me will spark something very akin to night terrors. Will harm me psychologically.
These limits are all true for even friends, which are all I am open to anymore.
As far as my sexual limits, particularly within the framework of BDSM... Well, that hardly matters, or shouldn't, to any other than the one whom I will act out those limits with.
Abandonment. If you choose to leave me high and dry, particularly in a time of need, then don't be surprised if I don't rely on you to be there ever again.
Lashing out with the intent to hurt me or those I care about. I see absolutely no reason to believe if you do it once, that you won't do it again.
However, I do know that shit happens. And people have a bad day. And make bad choices. So, I follow the three strike rule. Each lie is one strike (whether it's told to me or someone else). Each abandonment is one strike. Lashing out at me with the intent to hurt me is an automatic two strikes. (At someone I care about in order to hurt me is an automatic three.) Three strikes, and you're out.
Additionally, I had a deep seated phobia. While working detention units, I often had death threats against me (yawn) and against my family. I wore a wedding ring, but not only did not display pictures of my wife, nor did I carry any in my wallet. Further, I never used her name, nor gave away any identifying details. Not only not in front of inmates, but even with my co-workers. (In fact, I can only remember three that ever even met her.)
Protecting her was my primary duty, and I have half a lifetime of doing so by not revealing her identity.
Revealing who is important to me, their identity, makes me feel like I am painting a target on them for any who might have issue with me, even though I am, in truth, no one of any consequence to any but a very few any more. But, it doesn't matter that probably no one is yet still out to harm me through harming those close to me. What matters is that people knowing who is important to me will spark something very akin to night terrors. Will harm me psychologically.
These limits are all true for even friends, which are all I am open to anymore.
As far as my sexual limits, particularly within the framework of BDSM... Well, that hardly matters, or shouldn't, to any other than the one whom I will act out those limits with.
What's new
I am content. I have gathered up the scattered shards of my shattered heart that I was unwise enough to entrust in the keeping of those untrustworthy to keep them. And have placed them all in the care and keeping of one who has also given me every shard of hers.
My sweet servant, my sweet slave has found her Lord and Master.
My precious pet has found her Owner.
My beautiful baby girl has found her Daddy.
My sexy slut, my fun little fucktoy, my spicy little submissive has found her Sir.
My heart has found her Home and her Anchor.
I was not looking. Yet, she found me. And the Resonance rang my soul like a bell.
She is Mine. Not for a night, or just when it is convenient. Not just when nothing else she might want presents itself. But, mine, wholly and completely. I am hers, and she is mine.
My sweet servant, my sweet slave has found her Lord and Master.
My precious pet has found her Owner.
My beautiful baby girl has found her Daddy.
My sexy slut, my fun little fucktoy, my spicy little submissive has found her Sir.
My heart has found her Home and her Anchor.
I was not looking. Yet, she found me. And the Resonance rang my soul like a bell.
She is Mine. Not for a night, or just when it is convenient. Not just when nothing else she might want presents itself. But, mine, wholly and completely. I am hers, and she is mine.
Update date
Jul 3, 2019
Member since
Mar 15, 2019