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
