Find me where-ever I hide

1 05 2013

Today is a strange day. A very strange day. Today is a day for epiphanies so I guess some writing should be in order. I said I would write more, but I didn’t exactly gave myself a goal. I think that so far two posts a week would be enough, two posts on anything that crosses my mind, not only BDSM but also games and philosophy and other stuff.

Today I speak of myself though, and I speak of a peculiar place where I found myself the other day and I need to explore. This will be a long post, because I have so much in my mind and I need to write it down. I hope my few and patient readers will be forgiving as usual.

Everything started when at a cash desk a sales assistant recognized me as a customer that made some fuss about something a month ago. We work for the same company so when I approached to pay and she made some funny remarks, I thought she was joking.
She wasn’t. She hates me. She hates me because in her memories I made a big mess in her corner of the shop, while in the end I just wanted a bag from a mannequin but we found the bag somewhere else and I bought it.
In her mind, her version of me and of that episode, was of a mad customer – while in my mind I was merely joking about taking it from the mannequin and in the end nothing wrong happened. She told me that I am an egomaniac of some sort – to which I politely stopped talking after I realized to my horror she was NOT joking.
Beside the simple and easy solution that she was not paying attentions to facts but only to her impressions and my erratic behavior  what I found fascinating is something I already tried to learn from: the imagine we have of ourselves vs the imagine others have of ourselves.
A week before, something similar happened at work and I found out that my behavior is interpreted in a very malicious way.
There will always be haters, there will always be backstabbers, I know. I am merely not fitted to cope with them because most of the time I assume that everyone say and does what they like and believe, which is something of such an absurd and naive epicness that I should probably put myself in a mental asylum and threw away the key.
I do though, as much as possible, try to live by a rule of truth and simplicity. I try not to complicate what is already complicated, I try to find a common ground with everybody because I firmly believe we are all human beings and we should behave in a logical and responsible way. I know that my words and my actions have consequences and I expect the same from someone that speaks with me.
Such is not the case. I felt very bad last week because of this, because I could see how much hypocrisy is involved in social interactions, how many lies and how easily the reality of things is distorted.
What eludes me is though the reason why I can’t see this coming, never ever and why I keep trying to find the best in everyone.
For being a depressing and erratic personality, I seem too eager to give the patent of easy-going to everyone, basically doing the same fucking error of applying my way of thinking to everyone. Which is not the case.

I must remember myself I am peculiar. I must remember I am growing to be more and more INTENSE and PASSIONATE about what I like and believe and that my believes and my thoughts are not the ones of the majority. Otherwise the world would be pretty fucked up I guess.
I must constantly remind myself, every time I speak with someone, that they will be prone to misinterpret everything I say, or must I live my life by my rules and don’t give a fuck about people.
How can I make sure that the idea that I have of me – of a smart, easy-going, sometimes depressed, painstakingly ironic geek with intense passions – is reaching out my every day audience?
Am I so different from them?

In all this I still want cock so badly. I want to be punished badly too. I want to be owned. I want to scream to the world I am a fucking faggot and a wannabe slave and I want to live my life as INTENSE as it needs to be. I don’t want anyone to mess with my INTENSITY and my PASSIONS. These are all the beauty I am.

the real question though is:

In the meanwhile, porn is the answer. and music too.


Generation aftercare

16 10 2011

I started quite an intriguing  book ( you can find title and an excerpt here> ) after a friend suggestion.
The story per see is nothing exceptional, t’s a simple and understated biography of a Dom… a self-proclaimed Leather Man and it’s supposed to be from a top perspective.
And this is extremely interesting and thrilling to read both because I can see through the eyes of a Top – although it’s restricted to the author view – and reflect on the bottom role.
But there is something even more interesting in what I read: nothing of that exists anymore. Or maybe I wasn’t lucky enough to find it.
I just started the book  but the perspective I am reading and enjoying it something I never meet, something I never experienced so far. It seems there is a psychology and spirituality behind the Master/slave dynamic… and I didn’t use those words lightly. It seems there is a sort of integrity, a profound respect and an understanding and it’s striking me as beautiful and impossible.
As a sub, I know where I came from but sometimes I forget my need. I forget that what I crave is not only to serve and please but also to let myself go, to share myself, my insecurities, my fears, my believes, my experiences, my dreams, to be open finally.
We all know what it is that we look for at the end of the whip, but sometimes we forget for a very simple reason: we are lost in a world without care, a world without aftercare. A world where everything is expected and nothing is given. How may times I stepped out of a scene for this or the other reasons – most of the time my own fears or panic – and I’ve been approached in a positive manner and not dismissed? How many times? Zero. Yes, zero. I didn’t realize at the beginning, I thought I was weird and that it was my own problem to solve my emotional issues – and indeed it is – but reading of aftercare after a scene made me somehow glitch, I saw the white elephant and I understood that what I am looking for is a step behind me,  a step higher.
It’s even more difficult now to reach it but it has a name… is a sort of mixture of pride and self-assurance, it’s understanding your own needs and wishes. It’s willing to be from myself.

Spirituality is the key. Because there is something strong and powerful in giving up oneself completely to be just a toy, to be only pleasure. There are too many underlying dynamics and so much energies and the place we could visit through them are so far and distant that it all seems like a different world. When I am there and the belt is coming on me, the second before I slip inside that space where everything is calm and flowing and so deeply perfect… that second is made of magic, is made of all the words I don’t have to explain it to you. But it’s there and it’s vibrant and it calls me because I know its taste, I know its color.
Could I talk about this with all the tops/Doms I served in the past years? No, not too all of them… probably only one or two could understand what I am writing and saying. Most of them will dismiss this as simply the blubbering of a demented child.
Because here we have arrived, because scenes are served on a massive scale and when you enter you’re just meat. You’re not a boy, you’re not a toy, you’re not property.
Property. What a funny little silly word this is… property. You go at his place, you’re his property for a couple of hours then you’re dismissed, off you go. You’re just meat on the altar for the simultaneity of this era.
We are meat, we are constantly  asked to say yes always and more than always too. But is this the right way to play? Isn’t the slave supreme choice – the one to complete surrender – the one and only most wonderful thing we should have to give? So why pretend we can give it freely, without knowing the scene, without knowing  the boundaries, without contracting the steps to indulge in?

What I seek it’s my pleasure and it’s yours too. Your pleasure is to have me and use me and show me places where I’ve never been. Your pleasure is to seek that pain I can give you the right to inflict on me because I want to, because I need to find my place in the fabric of reality.
But these days we have forgotten this little fact: it’s a game with two players, it’s a dynamic. It’s me and you giving shape to something that we can’t do alone.

So now I wonder why I can’t find you. Why I am not able to satisfy my hunger with just a night of passion and whipping. Maybe you are out there, matching my hunger with a mirrored taste.
My boundaries lie behind and underneath yours. I am the pillar where you can build your palace.
Because I am the meat that screams and says “Thank you Sir” and begs for more.

So go on, follow the path. I couldn’t care less. If you don’t see me, if you don’t see what I am and what we could be, you’re not that I can give myself completely too.
You’re one of the thousands in this world of blind people. And I seek the one who has an eye. I seek the King.

You can’t stop me.
I fly higher than you.
(Link to the book’s review: )

and the animal I feel inside me

21 03 2011

It seems quite obvious I am not exactly happy these days. I have tried to understand the reason for quite a lot of time and I must say I didn’t reach any solution.
I found out though a few points that maybe I must investigate a little bit further and I will put under scrutiny of my small public hoping they might form a more complete impression of my personal world.

As a slave, one thinks, “to obey” should be the rule. To obey and to please is what every Master demands and is such a simple rule that we shouldn’t really spend any further second thinking about it. But is not the rule I am interested, it’s the reason behind it that thrives me.
I am not here to make a wild assumption for every slave out there, for ever sub willing to serve, what I am here for is just to try to see why and how this rule apply to me and how I feel in relation to this rule.
The matter, to be honest, is not that easy. Obeying or serving or pleasing are somehow enjoyable  activities for me, I like very much the idea of being a pleasure toy, an instrument of someone else’s pleasure. But why is so? This is the question of the week and I came with two different impressions about it, both of them troublesome somehow.
The first impression is because  it makes me useful: in being pleasure I find my own place since it gives me a purpose, a goal.
The second impression is because it focuses me on someone else. Since every day I am focused on my own sadness, having an external point of interest makes me less prone to that feeling.
What is good? What is bad? Who am I to know? At the  moment I am quite lost in the forest of my feelings, with no chart or map hence is quite difficult to see the route.
Is this feeling common to un-owned boys? Or is the thought of being something common among subs even more pathetic? Like somehow my doubts and my pains are to make me someone of a group, a group with a specific reason to be, a group with a precise identity.
I don’t see this two thought interfering with my certainty of being a sub though, it is clear to me that something buried deep inside of me wants to come out and be tamed and owned.
That something though at the moment is facing the strong wind of my intellect, raising in my head questions of authenticity of my own feelings.
It’s clear, again, I am sadly not at all a no-brainer. Do I say so out of pride? It is an interesting question this as I was been told sometimes that maybe I lack pride or maybe that I have too much of it… probably this declarations were more reflections of the type of slave the Masters I was speaking with have in their mind, but it’s interesting anyway.
Should a slave show pride? Should he not?
Othello might have the answer, a pity he lost his temper down there in Denmark.

There is a certain degree of mysticism in me I suppose and that creates a very deep and romantic attitude. I was contemplating the songs of my favorite italian singer and I could see that they were all speaking (at least my favs) of a sort of complete and cosmic love, very much universal as not so god-driven in a pure christian  sense… pure simple love for and from the nature, encompassing time and space.
The nature of my mysticism, that I try to dilute giving it a romantic and then decadent expression, is at this very moment another mystery for me.
Surely my quest in finding a route to sub-space, a route that somehow I see difficult but certainly deeply important, is definitely of this  sort. Trying to find the path to ecstasy through pain and pleasure, as much silly as it can sound, is deeply rooted in a mystic view of the universe, like loosing oneself in the depth of the un-consciousness (not to confuse with sub-conscious in a more freudian way) and maybe this romantic feeling is a form of love that knows no boundaries… ones that I thought a s/M relationship could give somehow.

And then there is quite a few physical manifestations of my cravings. A couple of them comes to my mind in no strict order of importance: punishments and denial.
If still I didn’t really understand my quite silly thrive for punishments of various sort, I certainly put down something nice about denial.
As I am speaking I don’t think of denial as a total form of chastity (please forgive me out there if I’m using a specific term to accommodate my own thoughts) but I am more thinking of it as the edging games everyone should try once in a lifetime. Did you really try it? Did you really really give it a solid try?
After some basic edging session that I give to myself just for the sake of fun, I must admit that I came out with this thought: Who on hell wants to orgasm now?
The pleasure is not in the orgasm per see, but in the waiting for hit… there is so much more building up of feelings and wonderful sensations than in the discharge of it.
To be honest the discharge, even if I am not a fool and I admit is great, seems last so little and is following by a usual regret, while the building up can last for ever and every single moment becomes more and more intense and pleasurable. Why would I consciously decide to cum when the moment right after is so wonderful and deep and it makes me feel so wonderfully horny?
Am I the only one feeling like this?

I hope I am not.
The animal I’m hatching  inside is still immature, still far, still so little powerful. What can I do to unleash it? Who can help me doing that? Or maybe shall I do it alone?
Questions, questions, the bane of my life.
Probably also what keeps me going on. What keeps me somehow alive.

Then in the end my own sadness becomes like an armor, an icy cover that belongs to me as much as everything else inside my soul.
After some time that icing became part of me, a strong pillar for my own personality.
And maybe the quest for happiness is not possible anymore for it will bring me destruction, it would bring me a new me to take care of.
We’ll see.
I’m still looking for help. As always.

Oh well

26 02 2011

I am going through a lot of very different and difficult periods. None of them is really interesting or fun, let’s simply say I wish I would be somewhere else or someone else, I wish I made different decisions in the past, I wish I would have read different books or visited different dreams. I am not who I am suppose to be, or maybe I am what I could be with what was left of me after years of obscure melancholy. Work is what it is, my sentimental life is generally non-existant, I can number my friend in my right end and all of them are inherited from my high school in Italy, so clearly something must be wrong there.
How I ended up being a sort of manager, me that I clearly lack and sense of leadership, that I despise making decision and giving orders, how I ended up I was saying is a mystery it will take me the rest of my funny life to find out.
I try not to lose hope but I think I might be on the verge of the loss already, swimming in waters that I don’t like and that don’t make me in anyway happy.
A friend of mine said I am a missed concubine… and I don’t think he knew how much truth there was in  his words. Or maybe he did and that makes him even more precious (but so distant stuck there in that country that I left years ago to come here in London)

In moments like this one must have a personal space where to hide, a form of Tiffany’s of Capotean memories, a shelter from the overall ugliness of the world, a wall against our own impending demise.
Mine are all very mental space, go figure, and I find them quite revealing my personality.

The first one is the Muppets. I suppose everybody knows the Muppets and everybody spent hours watching them and memorizing every single sketch as a magical formula against any kind of sadness. If not, my friends, let me tell you that in them you will find not only wonderful music but also the balm your soul is craving for, the medicine to mend your broken heart, the pills to colour your sight of pinks and greens and reds over the rainbow.
Looking at the same hilarious sketch will not wear it, will not diminish its power. Watching the same sweet candy song will not gives you less and less pleasure but always the same amount of warm feelings, if not more when in dire need.

The second place is probably Quantum Physics… for reasons that I still have to understand, the mind-crashing logic of the quantum paradoxes are making me extremely dependent on new knowledge and new ways to understand this really funny place we are bound to inhabit for the rest of our life. The fact that sometimes I even understand what they are talking about maybe also helps.

Then there is computer games. Since I am a free slave (lol what an oxymoron) I can spend as much time as I like on silly games, conquering galaxies, killing dragons, saving random peasants from the brutality of the dark ages. It is very funny to remark that no matter what I do, I try to go for the “good” path but I find i very very hard do displease my companions even if is obvious they are evil and they don’t like my course of very good actions. Somehow, even in computer games, I try to avoid conflicts being quite submissive? LOL there is no real hope then form me.

I suppose this three little places where I go to hide when I am sad, are something that speaks about me a lot. Indeed.
And then there is of course the random xtube video (the one where the sub is too cute and moaning so nicely that you cannot avoid to add to your already immense list of favourites). But maybe that’s more jerking material.
Which, looking at things from the bright side, is something that I can go back to do very often and everywhere. Since I am free again and the only limit to my orgasms is my imagination. Charming!

it’s simple, you’re mine and you need me.

29 04 2010

Here I am, on my knees with my orange underwear on. something I am somehow learning to love. Here I am again speaking about what’s happening even if I don’t have any clue about it and more than everything I don’t know where it will lead me.

So, they say, the life of a slave is a life of pain, isn’t it? We already saw how magic and deep the pain can be, we already settled that the ordeal path is not that far from.
What I missed to understand it there are kinds of pain I could never imagine. And one of them is making me sitting here right now writing this short post… the focal point is need. I know I need my Master, I feel it now, deeply. So deeply that it’s a pain, a real pain. When the feeling goes right to the mind a bell sounds and consciousness regain his kingdom and the pain is doubled: the intense pain of that need and the even intense pain of the somehow weirdness of that feeling that comes straight from the conscious mind.
it’s a clash of titans, the need, the willingness to serve and to please, the pleasure of being dominated against the set of rules that we all have stuck inside our head.
it’s indeed a magnificent battle to see. a little less to feel under your own skin. the Ego is powerful and gigantic, while the dark hopes that fight against it are small in comparison but many.

I feel hung. Like the proverbial hunged man I am blind and throw on the verge of something I cannot see or comprend or to a certain extent enjoy. There is something inside me that screams for help and you can hear his voice only when I am not there, only when I am somewhere else. And that something feels and screams in ways I am not used to and I don’t know it’s name.
But it’s there and the pains of that needs it feels all  together quite quite bittersweet, still are pains nonetheless.

I can’t believe, simple as it is. Can’t believe. And again is hard to admit to myself, almost near to impossible to understand. Yes I shall go on for the path is just begun. I can’t say if it’s right or wrong, I’ll find out at the end I guess.

Rescue me, the storm is coming.

Simple as drinking, difficult as breathing

9 04 2010

Aren’t we always here, trying to find another question or another darn answer?
Three months and I am back on track. I lost my place and now I am slowly finding it back. It’s magic and you know it when you see it, you feel it with the first whip on your skin… it’s magic and it’s a path and it leads me here again and again.
Drawn to explore, bound to face my fears… the real ones… the ones that make you smell badly and wake you up during the night in a pool of sweat. But even behind them there is always the search, the path to knowing myself more and more and more… and facing what I am with more strength, with the joy of truth.
Am I travelling in places too dark? I am dreaming of ownership too vividly? Who knows.
There is pleasure though and joy alongside with pain. And I am glad to give my pain to him, somehow.

It’s strange the world of the mind, its strawberry fields are vast and morbid. Too beautiful to avoid them. It’s time to start to compromise.

So, looks like I have a owner. It’s distant yet, it’s something just starting.
But to start you have to be crazy and I was. To start you have to be the Fool and brace yourself for the journey that starts with a leap of faith.

Here I am, naked and on my knees, gain.
Waiting to learn, waiting to let me go.
Waiting to kiss and swallow.

How I developed so far

1 09 2009

“I am a Master who can give you what you need”

it started like that, with this phrase and a comment about my profile… I understood I was speaking with someone that was able to read behind my words and I hoped he would be able to read behind my thought as well.
It’s difficult to understand how I’ve developed so far, very diffucult. Being here, on this side of the barricade, means I have just a one way opinion of what’s happening, and sometimes my opinion is scaring or is worrying.

Reading our old chats was interesting. I saw how much I’ve changed, I so I don’t fear to say any more I’m a slave and that I exist to please my Master, to give him my body, my mind and my soul.
What I saw is that now I am grateful, for I want to be His joy, I want to be his pleasure, I want to be nothing but what He wants me to be… and this sense of gratitude is so deep and hard that sometimes it hurts, but somehow is right.

I know now what’s my place, I’m glad and thankful you found me Sir for I was lost before meeting you.
I didn’t know what to do, how to behave, what to feel and now I know I have to be open for you and I have to please you for my pleasure is only in making you happy, for you will take care of everything else and you control me where I can’t control myself properly.
I’m sorry if sometimes I’m scared and I don’t understand and then I ask silly questions about my feelings, for now looks like you know my feelings more than I do and now I see what you told me the first time and how it became real.

There feelings are hard, deep, they hurt sometimes so badly I cannot tell properly, like a bite here in my guts or butterfly in my stomach.
But now I don’t have anymore the key for them.
For only you, my Master, know my real me… more than I know myself.

Thank you for letting me be your boi Sir.
Thank you for teaching me what’s being a slave, thank  you for making me feel this emotions.
Sincerly and deeply thank you for making me the wonderful creature I am now.
Thank you Sir.