A complete dick

I think with my dick. That's what I'm told. That's what is expressed to me countless times, over and over.

"Stop thinking with your dick."

What exactly does this mean? I know what they intend it to mean when they say it. Stop allowing your phallus to influence or overpower your decisions. But, it's ignorant to expect a man to not give great deference to a part of his anatomy that has caused so much of his life. From an early age, males, whether they are gay or straight develop a very private relationship with their penis. Some will end up sharing a portion of this relationship with others, some will keep it in complete isolation from everyone. However the male decides to handle this, this appendage remains at the very center of their self, and cannot be easily extricated or ignored.

In order for this to be an accurate statement, i think it should be rephrased as:

"Stop thinking with and about your dick."

I'm not sure when i first thought of my penis as a dick (a sexual unit), and i'm not sure i've quite come to think of it as a cock (either as a word or as the trashy term used in erotica/porn). I do know, however, that i spend a great deal of time thinking about it in some fashion. Sometimes i try to remember what it was like before this fleshy handful transformed into a weapon of mass insemination. It's odd to me that i've had only two or three conversations with other (straight) men about our penises, when i'm certain we'd have plenty to say. For the most part, it is seen as homosexual-esque if you were to engage in a discussion about your genitals, and most men will feign complete revulsion at the topic - which i don't get because i find the topic ENDLESSLY fascinating (of course these same men will prattle on and on about bowel movements and their flatulence).

I enjoy a good meal. I feel rejuvenated when i get to spend time outdoors being active. I would even say that music provides me with tremendous amount of stimulation. But without hyperbole, none of this compares to attention paid to my penis. I adore - ADORE - masturbation and sex (and they are separate but equally thrilling activities). In a typical day, i will handle my penis on average of about an hour, whether it is just a quick rub/check-in/adjustment, or if i'm pulling it completely out of my pants and giving it my full attention. I think about it when i'm sitting in my office chair, when i'm on the train holding onto a pole, or when i reach into my pocket to fetch my wallet. It doesn't take much to cause an erection. A certain smell. The sound of a pair of heels clicking on the sidewalk. Even something as simple as a brief embrace from my girl.

Frankly, i've had more worthwhile and meaningful experiences when i've given every little ounce of my energy and thought to my penis. When i channel all of me towards and through it, such tremendous liberation and freedom overwhelms me, i couldn't imagine it never being a major player in my decisions.

The Saddle

It would not be a wrong assumption that my recent trip to a mountainous environ would involve taking in the powdery slopes of some ski resort. However, even though this recreation is native to my home state, it is not something i usually engage in, due largely to my fascination with exploring the outdoors. Whenever i travel back, i like to fill my time with walks, drives, hikes, rock-climbing, and on a rare treat, horseback riding.

I have stated before my experience with horses, but i haven't really mentioned much about my girl's. Through a perfectly lucky coincidence, she and i have a similar affection for horses and riding, with a few differences. Her experience came through summer camps where she would be paired with an animal, taught how to care for it entirely as well as ride it, which has led her to romanticize these great creatures to the point of girlish glee whenever she sees one. Whereas, my interaction with horses served as more of a functional, work-related symbiosis. While i enjoy their presence i still see them as a means of transport, just like my feet, a car and my hands might also facilitate my exploration of the terrain.

Prior to leaving for our trip, my girl arranged for us to have a couple of hours of private riding with a guide. She could hardly contain her excitement for this opportunity to sit in a saddle once again. The entire time leading up to it, she kept telling everyone who'd listen about her time with horses and how much she was looking forward to this time.

Our guide picked us up at an arranged location in the middle of the small mountain town. Within the first sentence he spoke, you could tell how genuine this man was as the purveyor of a dozen horses. This man was a cowboy. An old cowboy, one who had seen many changes across the West, and most of them from off the top of a horse. He ferried us in his "bukkit uh bolts" to his horse corral, where he had three steads waiting for us, ready to ride. My girl chose "Rascal" - who proved to live up to his billing - which left me with ole "Burly". Walking up to Burly, i could tell that like our cowboy guide, he too had seen many a years, but i had no problem trusting him and lifted myself atop his saddle. Our guide took us up a trail that raised our elevation by 1,500 feet in less than 20 minutes. My horse was gulping big lungfuls of air by the time we summited to the vast open mesa - always a strange experience to feel that coming from something you're straddling.

It felt good to be back on a horse. The land on the plateau we explored was so vast, i had several opportunities to wander off and let my horse out into a gallop. This is an experience that is hard to describe to those who've never done it. Galloping a horse is very unlike riding in a speeding car or on a roller coaster. While there is speed, the excitement isn't just unique to the rider in the saddle. Horses are evolutionarily made to run, and more than that, they love to run. So, holding onto the reins as this animal charges underneath you, hurtling you at frantic speeds, it's both a thrill for you AND your horse.

When we'd finished, my girl and i got to speak a little about the experience. While i had a blast, my girl had what could be described as a near spiritual experience. I wanted to learn more about what made it so profound. The thing, she said, that really grabs her is that it's very similar to a Dominance and submission relationship. The horse must submit to her commands, but she is dominant only because this 2-ton animal lets her. There must be consent, or else she'll be tossed from off its back. And that allowance, that willingness to consent to guidance and command really affects and fulfills her.

I knew exactly what she meant.

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I'd like to thank Vesta for her always impressive stewardship of this site in my absence. I do hope you enjoyed her perspective. I know i did as she always serves to enlighten me about some detail in a past post i hadn't thought of before.

Break

Unfortunately, the affliction i reported on yesterday has not improved. In fact, if anything, it's gotten worse. The bitterness has increased in intensity, and it is consuming a great deal of energy as i need to eat yet it is rather discomforting to do so.

With all that said, because of this recent situation, i don't have the energy to focus on this site. For the time being, i'm going to take a leave of absence from posting here. I'm not sure for how long it will be, but for now these pages will go silent. My thanks to all of you who've offered their support and advice.

in and out

the breath that once great minds respired,
that for centuries has sustained the lives
of thousands, millions more
and hung in the atmosphere, hovering over
epochal moments in history
now
passes through your lips, nestling in your lungs
only to swim freely in your veins
feeding your muscles, your flesh, the warmth
in your cheek
this brings life to you
this brings you to me

May i damage you?

May i take your perfect visage and slam against it, forcefully?

May i hold the alabaster of your soft cheek, only long enough to shatter it?

May i address you in curt ways, that humiliate you, reduce you to an insult?

May i seek pandemonium in your crevices, stabbing them thoughtlessly with my member?

May i cause you to shriek in fear, to mimic the pain i feel on a daily basis?

Will you do that for me? Will you suffer, truly suffer, not cosmetically suffer, but endure so much that it leaves a scar, a permanent welt that i can return to, when i need the solace that tells me i'm not alone with this torment?

May i look you straight in the eyes, and without remorse, collapse my entire spirit upon you, spilling my bloody insides all over your beautiful, untouched canvass?

May i maim you? Transform you? Turn you into something else that you do not recognize?

May i rob you of your persona, re-route your natural instincts and feed you my disease, my slanted way of life?

May i drag you along the rough, cragged surface of my abilities, my clumsiness and ignorance scraping across your flesh?

May i pounce on you, without any warning? May i shove my hunger onto you, taking what i need to feed, leaving you with just scraps?

May i reconstruct you? May i tear you apart and put you back as i prefer?

May i damage you? May i damage you? May i inflict?

Ask yourself if you trust me. Ask yourself if you can survive this.

Ecstasy

I'm not one to take dictation, but from such a nice girl, i think i can oblige.

Oatmeal girl in a comment on this post quoted something i wrote and then asked a follow-up:

" Without realizing it, i've snapped. I'm in a completely different world. This world consists of energy, and specific postures, and correction."

the Dom's equivalent of subspace? i'm always wanting to know... again and again i ask: what did it feel like? what does it do for you?

Is there an equivalent for the dominant to subspace? Well, to be honest, i hadn't considered it before. I think this comes partially from the fact that i'd never fully confirmed the existence of subspace or headspace as it is sometimes called. I've always bristled at convention, commonly-held definitions, large generalised solutions. Like Murray Burns of A Thousand Clowns, i've railed against conformity. For this reason, i do not refer to myself as my girl's Master or Sir, nor do i refer to her as my slave or submissive. I use the term "dominant" to refer to my half of the power exchange we engage in, but not because that is my title. Following this "Rage Against the Machine", it makes sense that i hadn't verified with sound evidence the exact parameters of subspace nor claimed my own version of the submissive's hideaway.

Effusively threaded throughout my interactions with submissive girls is an achievement i've managed to experience several times. I've described it earlier here as a field of electricity that forms in a small pocket in the chest and grows, soon overtaking the body. I've never gone as far as clinically verifying the anatomy of this charge for the girl, i've simply intuited that is it for me how it is for her how it is for me. I've even witnessed altered states wherein the girl's previously chatty, demure, lady-like corporeal frame has vanished into an ether that fogs her mind with a delicate plushness. I've encountered the production of massive amounts of viscous lubrication that bubbles forth from an artesianal source inside, making this flow feel inhuman if not ungodly. I've heard whispered leathery tongues of Cyrillic chatter channeled by a girl who'd never taken a day of foreign language in her life. I still cannot say, based on the evidence of these ends to my sadistic means, that i have witnessed subspace.

Rapture causes one to react, respond, pronounce out loud a great overcoming. Rapture stimulates one to action. Ecstasy silences. It paralyzes the body with an overflow of joy, freezing the person in the moment of complete exaltation. I have experienced both, during meditation by myself and during the exploration of SM play with a submissive girl. More often than not, when i feel that current blossoming beneath my ribs as i'm marauding across the flesh of my female target, ecstasy enraptures me.

I don't believe i can speak with enough authority about other people's experiences out there to say what it is that happens to me happens to them, but for me there is a click. A very dangerous, audible and physical click where the head no longer controls the body. The circuit breaker in my mind that provides my social congenialities with enough sustaining energy gets tripped. There my "victim" sits, in the dark, uncertain of how large the beast is that looms near her, nor how hungry he is.

My voice changes. It grows deeper, quieter. My breathing also dives deeper, instead of deriving from my lungs, i seem to pull it from way deep in my diaphragm. My temples tingle and pulse. My touch feels electric. Every surface that i press with my fingertips erupts with a field of static separating it from my skin. I feel a heaviness building right at the base of my sternum, that pushes on and then into my stomach, to which my entire digestive system awakens. My cock grows emphatically hard, almost painfully so. A rush of blood engorges my entire groin, making every vein and muscle in this area swell.

But what is not obviously apparent is the harmonic of overwhelming peace that hovers above, acting as a guide through a dark unknown forest. Despite the fact that it takes rather aggressive actions on my part - whipping a leather belt across her buttocks, binding her with tight knots into a hog tie, destroying her identity by layering her under layer after layer of latex - a tranquility does emerge from her consternation. This may come from the rare connection made between two souls who have momentarily rubbed together, or it could just be a tremendous high experienced by two incredibly horny lovers. I'll not try to define (and hence negate) what it is that's happening here because i feel that there is still so much to experience which could prove my rush to definition wrong.

But, i know i'd like to think that what i experience as the dominant is not so drastically different from what she the submissive experiences. She acts as the vessel and i perform the role of the flow - the shape of the sum gets created by our individual nuances. It would make sense that we are equal halves of the same whole, our hemispheres merely a reflection of one another.