Doogles

Maybe I'm a little drunk...

What does it mean to be who we are (kinky, that is)? I know that it's changed the way I think about people who are different than me. I also know that I'll never be to feel safe in my own skin. The two are probably linked.

I, and others of our stripe, have the luxury of never having to disclose this part of ourselves to anyone we don't want to, but we eventually must if we want to be "happy". I've had plenty of girlfriends who have reacted plenty of different ways, but only one or two who have had the same thought about kink: it's not like some tick that is burrowed into our soul, unwanted and unwelcome. It's the part of our soul that's a different and unacceptable color. We can't wash it out, and we can't run from it for long. In fact, the more we run, the stronger it seems to be. We've all tried the, "I'm going to just give this up and join the rest of society, like a normal person".

Like we have a choice.

Why do I even want to run from it? Obviously, it limits my chances of being happy. I'd rather be able to mold myself to love whatever it is that my lover does. That would be easier than knowing that I'll eventually have to present who I am, face rejection or confusion, and begin the process all over again, only to know that I can expect more people to react with disgust at this small part of me. I suppose that's what it is: Knowing that I face an even tougher challenge than the average man when it comes to companionship. I need an intellectual opponent (not enemy), a principled competitor, and a stalwart supporter. This would be difficult enough to find alone, and many try their whole lives, only to be disappointed. Now add our levels of sexual compatibility. It feels hopeless.

We can spend years wading through online profiles, carefully wording messages in a fashion that an alchemist would appreciate, and dates that either bore us to death or make us know the depths of despair that Slyvia Plath knew. Is that our lot? And what of those who find their perfect match?

I despair that I haven't heard of many. I feel better allotted than most (in kinks and deportment), but I still wish that I were a mindless drone, accepting of my denarii of pleasure and content with my lot. Sometimes I feel that way, but as soon as I do, I feel the tap on my shoulder and the polite clearing of a throat of my unacceptable desires. It immediately brings all my accomplishments and failures into perspective: I may never be happy.

Posted obligatory "myspace" photo. At least it's recent.

The cold tends to make me hibernate, but now that it is much warmer, I plan to be far more active. Especially since I need to find a kink-friendly person to share a space in the South Loop.

I think my writings indicate the type of person (and pedant) I am, so let me know if you think you and I might get along.

So, now I'm "Massage Boy".

Last night at GD, I came to the startling conclusion that I have little transmittable knowledge about my kinks. I do well when I write, as I can organize my thoughts so I'll lay out the questions (and please post any you think I should consider) that I need to address.

What am I? Dom, sub, switch, top, bottom, slave, boy, etc. What do I enjoy? Pain, humiliation, age play, etc? Most importantly, why do I enjoy the things that I do? What does this tell me about the things I don't like?

I'll not bore you with the details of how I realized I was kinky. I'll save that for punishments. Sufficed to say, I was unsatisfied with my life early on. I was the smart kid who didn't have many friends. I got picked on by nearly everyone, and I was glad to choose a high school where I would see as few of them as possible.

High school changed everything. Not always for the better. I've made lasting friendships, but I was still unsatisfied. I was still a big nerd at this point (that hasn't changed yet, actually), but things were a bit better.

College was a turning point for several reasons. I finally was able to look at myself and think intently about who I was, what I wanted, and what I wanted to be. The first thing was that I had to lose weight. I was tired of being fat. A big part of this change was building confidence in myself. I realized that if I could lose 30 pounds in a summer (and so far I've not lost ground), then I have the discipline to do a lot more. It was at this point I realized that willpower is a deciding factor in what makes a good person.

In a most circuitous fashion, that should tell you a little about how I have deep seated issues with approval. I'd been denied it so long from my peers and potential mates (wow that sounds clinical), that I will forever be seeking it. Sad? Maybe, if I don't direct that need appropriately. I've chosen to direct my need for acceptance into decent skill sets like personality (I'm a charming MF), massage, and personal appearance. I will probably never be a full Dom, but being a switch may be possible. An example is how I prefer to be a charge, than in charge. I often fantasize about being owned, appreciated, useful, and loved. The other half is where I am the loving, caring, strict, but appreciative Master. I'll go more into that later.

What do I enjoy? This should essentially be a list, so what the hell:

-massage -body worship -playing a protective role -diapers (this is one I've thought about a LOT) -chastity (this one as well) -humiliation (this is a fairly unexplored territory) -restraints -cages -pegging

There are more out there that I may enjoy, but for now, this list should cast a dim, but satisfying look into my psyche.

Why do I enjoy those naughty things? I tried to separate this fetishes into different groups or reasoning, but they all go back to my initial thoughts: acceptance and love. They do bear explanation, though.

Massage is service at its most transparent. It is also a form of body worship. I love it because I want to be valued because I have something to offer. This goes with my thoughts on personal grooming. I want someone to pick me. I want to be their first choice. Being unemployed for 11 months was the worst time in my life. I thought many times about stepping off the platform in front of a train, but that would be an inconvenience for the people on the train. I eventually developed a method, as most seriously depressed people do, and I will never truly escape those thoughts. Being employed and having friends goes a long way towards suppressing those thoughts. I want someone to love me enough that their life would be less rich without my existence. This leads me to the restraints. They wouldn't be there so much because I am on suicide watch, but because my owner wants me safe, and I may clumsily hurt myself.

The major step beyond this is into diapers. They are a symbol of comfort for me, not so much humiliation. The common perception is that wearing diapers is gross, humiliating, and distasteful. First of all, it is damn convenient. Have you ever watched a 3 hour movie, been to a long dinner, or encountered a long line at the bathrooms? You'll agree that it is convenient, even if you find it distasteful. Addressing the humiliation, diapers can be humiliating (and wonderfully so) if you choose to make them that way. I much prefer the idea of being diapered furtively. They are a subtle symbol that my Mistress wants me protected in every way possible, and not humiliated (unless it's fun!). Diapers aren't even gross. The quality of product these days has practically guaranteed that aside from a bulge in your clothes, no one is the wiser. Overall, the mental reminder that someone is looking after me is extremely rewarding for me.

Chastity is the more intense form of ownership. Not only would my mistress want to protect me, but she wants my pleasure to come ONLY from her say so. I am her property, and she sees fit when to allow me a reward. This is why I've invested in a high quality chastity belt, as I don't know who or how strict my domme may be. It is also configured for certain attachments for punishing me or others. I already have a keyholder at this point, so I have that aspect covered, at least.

Cages and pegging are two ideas closely intertwined with ownership. I want to be caged often (possibly against my will ;D ) and fucked as well. This serves as a reminder that though I may be favored, I have a place much lower than my domme. I am her fuck toy and teddy bear.

Non sequitur: The want for a domme in my life is the most consuming, raging, and confusing want in my life. The thought of it makes me want to give up everything if I find the right domme.

What do these things say about what I don't enjoy? I don't enjoy pain. I'll take it because so many dommes love dishing it out, but I really hate it. I love to see them smile because I was a good boy and took my beating, but I will never enjoy it. Light flogging may be the only exception, but that's so close to massage anyway. Inflicting pain doesn't feel like love. It feels like attention, that's certain, but I would much rather provide a service than have someone whip or spank me.

Another thought is being anally raped. Though it is painful, the pain is a byproduct of the domination and ownership. The more you fuck my ass, the more I know you love me. That sounds like an after school special (bondage style).

Play that involves changing my human status is too weird for me. If you love it, that's great because I struggle with my own loves, and you have the strength to admit yours. I wish I had that kind of courage. But I digress. Specifically, puppy play, pony play, and some infantilism is too much of a change. I don't want you to want me to be what I am not. I want to be loved and wanted for me. Maybe an exception is sissyfication. That is just so intense, I have to try it. Besides, I'm a big manly man. It's only appropriate to dress me in thick diapers and frilly pink clothes, right? My thought here is that this is also about establishing my place.

The conclusion is going to be tough, but I think I can do it in a sentence or two. I ache to be the best servant (sub, slave, boy, whatever) possible, and I expect to earn love in return. I have a crushing desire to give everything of myself for the right person, and I can only find her if I know myself better.

I hope this was helpful.