A Resolution Upheld

My Fellow Inmates,

After last week's blog I received messages from a few readers letting me know that they were happy to see my blog back. I am not whole heartedly sure I can agree with this point. Looking back on the past year of entries I can say that what came before was a workup unto what is to be...

A practice per say...

I actually consider my first blog to be what was placed this last week, as what came before it was usually an exercise in alternative writings. Whether straight forward, or esoteric, the scribbling on the wall of the Asylum tended to be nothing more than the build up to something greater.

I shall never claim greatness... ever... for the personal belief in ones elevation above others is nothing more than self consciousness ripping at the soul, begging for satiation...

This brings me to Ego....

Ego...

A vicious beast that at times in that past I too have been guilty of... At the point that my soul was intertwined with that of my former Master, Mr. Mitchell, he commanded that I loose weight and tone up...

And that I did, and in spades...

This was a world before the knowledge that the body converted Metabolife in to Speed... I was dropping weight like there was no tomorrow, and I had energy to boot. Looking back, I am sure a Meth addict can claim the same thing... 3 hours of sleep a night, a dinner consisting of one slice of pizza, and then hours of workouts on top of that....

For the first time in my life I could look in the Mirror and actually admit to myself that the reflection looking back was an attractive man...

Yet I was still separated from it, it wasn't me. In my mind I was a fat kid... always had been... that reflection was an image that belonged to someone else... it was fleeting and I knew it... yet I wasn't going to lose the chance to use it up until it was an empty shell....

I was 23, and was at odds with what was to be my place in this world. Torn between instilled morality and desires, I was hard headed... The path ahead was to be a rough one...

Loves lost, friends, lost, lives lost... not by my hand mind you, but as nothing but in innocent bystander, it was what I allowed myself to be... a fleeting image drawn in to the shadows of the bars that I trolled on a nightly basis in a futile search for some satiation of my dire need for justification...

Perhaps it was the drugs in my system, the speed that I didn't even know that I was ingesting at that time....

It opened me up to a reckless world. Not that I was taking anyone home, not even close... I was never one to believe in the whole bar scene... I always felt that the people that swarmed around me in the depths of the anonymous world of sexual tension that hung thick in the air of the gay bars of Seattle were mostly beneath me, people who prayed on those looking for a quickie, a simple orgasm that was in dire contrast to what I yearned for... what I ached for... Hell lets be honest... I would have scarred the shit out of 99% of those guys...

I was young, and hormones Raged... I was flawed, a shattered vessel that didn't know its own stress fractures....

Many a night would find me in a bar, dressed in a catsuit, that complemented the gift of tone that Mr Mitchell gave to me... In the back of my mind I knew that, I took for granted something that every boy of my age wanted: I was 23, and had a master that loved me, I had a stable home situation that was accepting of who I was, even though I was fighting many daemons that were eating me alive, and my master's partner Kevin, accepted me as I was as well, and accepted my intrusion in to his life... they did not need the drama of a young boy, Kevin didn't need the heartache that I dealt out to them while I was breaking walls begrudgingly... Yet they both stood there with open arms... through deep waters... through torrid storms of my psyche...

They loved me... yet at that point I still had no idea what that emotion meant... I was in a relationship with two men... yet I was still not willing to accept the concept of "Gay"

I can bet you can imagine the amazing animosity that this created... Mr Mitchell found a kindred soul inside of me that I could never accept existed... Where as many people would have given up on the fight with a boy that couldn't accept his lot in life, because his desires and reasoning where in a constant state of feudal war... Mr Mitchell and Kevin had faith in me...

To this day I am amazed by this...

I was with them over two years... and even at that point they had such amazing patience for a boy that was basically coming out of his shell at gunpoint. Two years... a few disagreements that's all, and minor at that.... Two years... and only once, in all that time, was there ever a blow up, because on my walls that refused to fall, that included a broken dish or two...two years...

This was ten years ago. Amazing how time flies. Since then Mr Mitchell and Kevin have had other boys.... Mr Mitchell wanted to take me on as a boy again after I shed the five year poison vanilla relationship that I had burdened myself with... I tried, yet I turned him down.

I Love Mitch and Kevin more that they will ever realize, no other people in this world would have taken the time with such a flawed boy... No one other than Kevin would have allowed such an intrusion of some one like me between him and his partner... a project per say of Mitch's... a consciousness, that was torn between the heartache of frustration and the want of equality...

Kevin is amazing. I am not sure I have ever told him that. I have always been worried about what he thought. I know many times he felt on the sidelines. The voyages into the dark corners and the unexplored areas of all the shit I had locked away only allowed one passenger. As hard as it was for him I beleive Kevin knew this, knew how badly I needed Mitch to help me organize and understand the bullshit...

...And to be able to finaly accept what I would never allow myself to, to see who I truly was...

I love Kevin for this. I will never understand why he put up with me. The growth of spirit and psyche that I gained from my time with them... I can never repay, and I can never explain. Yet I would not be there person I am today without them...

Of course life has changed so much over the years. After five years of basically having to take control of every situation from a vanilla boy that gave up on life because his doctor told him he had Hepatitis B. He was dying, that was his line in life. So I took it all on on, addressed it. Basically I became the dominant part of our relationship. After that, as much as the offer from Mr. Mitchell to once again become his boy was so tempting... I sadly realized that I had grown, so much...

...And I would never allow myself that fragile to anyone else ever again... Even to someone that I trust with my life...

Perhaps it was just too soon at that point... I know now I was not fully healed from a situation that was still to come that would force me to face what I had buried... But I still wonder if the offer, and the discussion was all too soon, brushing wounds that still needed some licking...

I have since met WetsuitJay, who has an amazing patience with me. We have been together over a year, and still enjoy each other's company so much. I still have some deamons, and some trust issues, as some wounds heal slowly. But I think this is another aspect of life, the experiance, and I look forward to everyday with him more than the last.

... Who would have ever thought something like this would have found me... Amazing...

I shared in my last blog that in life I was truly submissive. I shall tell you now... You shall never see this part of me unless you become a very intrical part of my life...

I have realized over the years that I get off on others discomfort. Granted this spans such a broad range as all of our concepts of discomfort vary so widely.

I get off mostly on the boys that I can push, and push hard... well past what they previously conceived as their comfort points, yet they allow me... through trust, that their psychological health, since I am fucking with their mental being... is well in my hands, and I shall only take them as far as they can go...

But then again I am just in my early 30's... what the fuck do I know...

I spoke to Rubberrebel Yesterday, and I extended my concerns about this site... about the low traffic and the wonderment upon weather I should be continuing my flow of fluid consciousness only to see it wither away in to the realm of obscurity upon the dissemination of this website in to the neither ether of the black void of websites past, only to be randomly discovered in the webs of archival arachnids....

He assured me, that we as a site are growing. Albeit slow I am sure, amidst the piles of website flaws that flood Rubberrebel faster than the daily timeline allows... So much drives so many away... but like fair weather fans of a hometown sports team, strength shall bring them back. Time is but the only enemy... will they remember? we must hope...

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep

RubberAsylum

A New Years Resolution

My Fellow Inmates,



A wise man once said that Life is what happens while you are doing everything else. Sadly as obvious and stupid as this advise actually is, it has some basis in truth.


My New Years Resolution is to Blog every weekend... I shall try, but many projects loom in the future...


Ever since Thanksgiving (my last blog, as odd as it was) WetsuitJay and I have been snowed every weekend with something or rather....

Thanksgiving
The Thanksgiving weekend Party
My Birthday
Hanukkah
Christmas
New Years
WetsuitJay's Birthday this weekend
The odds of us having a chance to raise our heads above the water level to breathe has been slim to shit... and truthfully, for the first time in my life, that's ok...


Let me explain...


One would never know this about me, but in life I am actually truly submissive... This has caused me many problems, and frankly I blame my father for this...


A good friend, who sadly I don't talk to anymore told me a year ago that I had a "Blame issue", and after the disaster of my ex... at this point I would have just agreed with him whole heartedly... Sadly at that point 1I didn't... I got real pissed, shed a few tears, and rode a 7 hour flight home from his house after being told that.... it was one of the harder days of my life... I still miss the closeness we had.


This is what happens when one attempts to continue to live life without first attempting to address issues that need to be faced. It frankly sucks. Strong relationships fade as a result of misunderstood feeling, and hell that is just life along the path of what is laid before us...


I am not perfect... I will never attempt to profess that, and anyone in your life that has the balls to hold themselves higher or mightier that you is a windbag that needs to be deflated, and frankly even if you will never witness it, they are a hell of a lot more fragile inside that they shall ever let the world see... we are all human... this is life.


So why am I prophesizing? well, this is my blog, and surprisingly enough to me I continue to receive messages from people around the globe referencing it to me on all different sites... I must say... And all apologies to Rubber Rebel, who is fighting to keep this site alive... But last year when I got really buckled down in sharing information, my history, pictures, and comments upon the amazing path I had treaded to see this point in my life, in my sexual life... I received an email from a Man who is very special to me that said simply:

"Wow, this site is dead isn't it."


To a big extent this effected me... Why should I be pouring my heart out to a audience of 2 or 3? Why should I share my experience... and granted, please understand, not only am I only 33, but I made the mistake of leaching on to a vanilla boy who controlled my every move for five years, and basically knocked me out of the scene for that same time frame...


So why should you listen to me?


Me, who after years of struggling with the fact that I could possibly be one of those "faggots" that all the people in the small town that I grew up in spoke about with such distaste...


Me, who after finding that issue of "Rubber Rebel" magazine in "Fantasies Unlimited" in Seattle, at 16 years old, bought it, and a butt plug... yet sill told my self as my dick reacted to the pictures and the bondage stories, while my stomach recoiled at the description of dick sucking, and cum swallowing, that the only reason I bought this magazine was that the Faggots happened to practice better bondage scenes than depicted in the straight magazines... And that I identified with the male bottoms...


Me, who after years of hiding behind a computer screen in the infancy of the internet, waiting for the pictures on James Bond's "Divers and Dungeons" Geocitities site to take Thirty minutes to load on my old 28.8k modem finally had enough, and contacted one of the major Rubber Players in Seattle to play for the first time...


Me, upon that meeting who brought a bag of virgin bondage gear that included a custom made bondage suit from cocoon, a hooded sleepsack from Scarred Rubber, and a gasmask hood from Recoil 557 (of which I still have, is 10 years old, in amazing shape, and still to this day is my favorite hood)


Me, who a week after that was invited to a party where I met and hooked up with a Nationally respected Top and his boy, of whom I spent the next 2 years with, and learned a lot of what I know today from


Me, whom after the death of a really good friend and playmate, at the age of 30, from HIV, Spiraled down in to a destructive Vanilla Relationship that lasted 5 years, fueled by drugs and dangerous self play that almost took my life 3 times...


And Me... who has now, at 33 years old... finally found something that for the first time in my life, I understand attachment and love... giving and taking... and when winning an argument would be a bigger loss in the long run that just backpedaling at the start and winding the disagreement down to a dull roar that is easily smoothed over, because you understand that there is no worth in the initial disagreement compared to the stability of the whole....


So why listen to me?


I have lived and died many times within the 33 years of my sentence upon this earth... Mr. Mitchell, my former master, has helped me see god, through hardcore single tail whippings, or some semblance of... very few could understand that, as Mr. Mitchell taught me through many years of mental wall dismemberment and trust building, and also many sessions on how to control the Endorphins in ones brain... The most important lesson of all in our community...

"Trust"


This is so easy to say... "Trust", yet so few actually understand the concept.

How many people would you allow in your life the essence of your soul? And yes, I realize I have gone metaphysical... Yet, honestly... ask yourself that... If you actually were in the true situation that we all put ourselves in... bondage wise... where rather that still holding a modicum of control, as lets be honest with ourselves, the bottom always holds... For the first time, you actually found yourself in that same situation, and that top actually had 100% control, and could do ANYTHING... without your consensus... How many people would you trust would keep your best interests at heart?


To take the endorphins to the levels that one sees in the whipping video between me and Mr. Mitchell, and I warn you to brace yourself if you choose to watch it if you haven't viewed it, as blood does run... One must Trust emphatically the person that is topping you... to the point that you are able to give 100%... no questions asked...


Mr. Mitchell shared with me after our scene, where he delivered 250 strikes with a single tail, that he had never taken anyone that far previously... I am of course here taking the liberty to share this as it belays the connection between us two...


This is not an easy connection to make, and my god was it a fight...


During one point of my initial training with Mr. Mitchell, I was unable to use the word "Sir"... which of course by logical reason he wished to be called by a boy that was in training with him...


I can not to this day explain why, I am sure he felt I was just being difficult, but I shall be honest that for some odd reason unbeknownst to me... the word would just not escape from my lips in regards to anyone, no matter how hard I tried to force it... I could use the word in context... "Sir Galahad", "Sir Elton John".... Yet when it came to a top... I think I had so much disrespect for men because of my father, that there was no way I was going to give one man that satisfaction...


So Mr. Mitchell decided he was going to fix my issue for me...


You see, and I know now writing this, that Mr. Mitchell is not a big fan of advertising this, but I am sure for the context of the story he shall forgive me, Mr. Mitchell is a former Tai Quann Do Tournament fighter, I believe I have mentioned this before...


So the day that my training arrived that concerned my issue of speaking the word "Sir", Mr. Mitchell took me down to his Dungeon... He proceeded to tie me up, spread eagle to the ceiling, and using his martial arts training, he proceeded to throw kicks and punches to my body, tempting my throat to open enough to allow the utterance of that forbidden word...


I fought him tooth and nail... mano a mano... it was more a mental struggle than a physical one, as my Sir expected it would be... he wore out my body, as he allowed the pain to lap at the walls within my brain..


By the end of my session I was hanging against the restraints... exhausted, Mentally still sparring, yet the beaten muscles of my body had long since given up.


Of course, looking back... what I didn't know then, was that Mr. Mitchell knew exactly what he was doing...


For a man that cut me down that evening before the point that I was ready to break... I was soon to learn what he already knew.... Sense Memory is a viscous master...



With that visiting time is over and the guards grow antsy…

Take care, and what ever you do don't scream too loud, others are trying to sleep

Rubberasylum