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asiansecret

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I am very traditional when it comes to gender roles. A womans natural place is in support of a man. To provide comfort and peace in a cut throat and dangerous world. To tame his savage heart with a gentle and feminine aura. A mans natural place is as head of household. The decision maker, the provider of structure and discipline. Control of his home because he knows how violent and unpredictable the world at large is. His job is to protect those who depend on him and shield their innocence and gentle nature.
I was playing poker at a friends house when ones girlfriend came home from a night of partying. She was drunk and had fallen and injured her knee. She pleaded for sympathy and attention for her pain. She hurt and wanted her boyfriend to take care of her. He ignored her at first. She grew more and more vocal. His annoyed affectation led to poor poker play and later an eruption of anger and name-calling. We sat there and played through several cringe-worthy, obnoxious, back and forth outbursts. The whole episode lasted about an hour. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and carry her to her bed. I wanted to prop up her knee under a pillow, massage her injury gently, and hug her and tell her that the pain would only be for a while. I wanted to make a warm compress and bring a bag of frozen peas and show her how we could make it feel better. And when she was calm, I wanted to stand up next to where she lay and admonish her for her rudeness and aggression. I wanted to tell her about the punishment that would come. I wanted her to acknowledge her mistake and I wanted to hear that she wants to be punished. Those words exactly, I want to be punished because this is what I did wrong. I would have told her how proud that made me. I would have gently petted her face. I would have pulled out my cock and made her suck on it for a while as the game continued in the other room.
Isnt it romantic. I slipped and fell on a red line train when I lived in Chicago. I guess the train took a turn too sharply and I fell very awkwardly. Like my legs over-corrected and somehow I just fell over like a tree in slow-motion. When I hit the ground I was mortified more than anything and before I could pull myself up the concerned redhead in the front seat quickly asked, Are you ok, are you hurt?. Just my pride. I whispered to her with a papery grimace. Her face turned beaten red and the warm giggle kept intensifying the more she tried to suppress it. From the floor of an El train in cold ass Chicago.
My father taught me early on, not to pity the suffering and the distressed. That to feel sorry for someones poor or diseased or any other pity-evoking state, was something that I must guard against because feeling sorry for others meant that I felt sorry for myself. He explained that if you hold yourself higher than someone then a)other people are higher than you and that b)you prop yourself up by looking down on the ones you pity. Neither option had much appeal to our sense of nobility. He taught me instead to act with love and respect as a positive motivation for compassion. It seems only natural that I would develop a fetish for causing humiliation and pain. I used to try to reconcile the contradiction, intellectually, until I realized the innate and empirical genesis of those fetishes. I realized, I am a man and animal once and always and that there is no reconciling instinctual impulses.
I strongly believe that you should live to create opportunities for your Dom to give you praise and affection. Live to create those opportunities. To provide him with a sense of contentment and pleasure and purpose, to a certain degree. And to fear the mere thought of disappointing. Thats why Im so keen on the word natural. Its that contradiction between the affectionate side and harsh possessive side of me that needs to be satisfied.

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11/16/2013 9:05:51 PM

I make a terrible first impression. 


4/6/2011 8:14:46 PM

Our scars remind us that the past was real.


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NavyEmt
 
 Age: 29
 Woodville, New Hampshire