Tuesday, April 23, 2013

'For Harry and St. George!'

These hills, this soil, the overarching sky; 
These cliffs, this sea, the plaintiff seagull's cry;
The farrowed fields, the coppiced woods,
the market towns and neighbourhoods -
The city streets, the Cotswold towns
The moors and heaths, the wind-swept downs:
This land, this home - this England.

"Be England what she will. With all her faults, she is my country still".
Charles Churchill (1731-1764) - English poet

Happy St Georges Day!

Monday, April 22, 2013

Pain and punishment...?

Do we enjoy pain play in BDSM because we feel the need to be punished…?

An innocuous question, and one that many people outside of serious BDSM play would assume to be correct. But, if you unpack that assumption, it is saying that BDSM centres around a feeling of guilt, of worthlessness and self-loathing.

We live in a world that already disparages us for being what we are, desiring what we do - one that has a distrust of those who walk outside the line, and a deeply ingrained sense of sin and guilt. If we let those ideas into our play - let them take root and poison our sexuality - then we become implicit in denigrating ourselves and our pleasures. We accept that we sin by our very nature, that we are worth less than others who are more 'pure', and that they have a right to treat us badly 'because we deserve it'.

Worst of all - in letting guilt and punishment into our play, we turn our play into a form of self-perpetuating self-hate - and transform our playmates into unwilling sadists and abusers.

I would say that BDSM - and pain-play in particular - can and should be something infinitely more empowering.


I like a little pain play in BDSM. A little nipple-teasing, a bit of CP or flogging: a judicious ramping-up of intensity and sensation that has you wincing and fidgeting just a little...

I like it for the same reasons that I like to feel the pain when I get tattooed: not because of the pain itself, but because I like how my body responds to pain when I relax and surrender to it.

The body's first response to pain is to release adrenaline: this speeds up our heart, dilates our pupils and heightens our awareness, bringing us into a highly aroused state ready to 'fight or flight' - but if we suppress that urge, tell ourselves that there is nothing to fear or escape from, then our body responds by releasing a second set of pain-killing chemicals and relaxants into the brain (the very chemicals that Opium mimics so powerfully). The more you relax under pain, the more of those chemicals the body pumps out - and the deeper the effect they have in lifting you away from the pain - and into heightened pleasure.

So, yeah, I like a little pain in BDSM play because of the the buzz I get when my endorphine levels climb sky high and I am wrapped in a warm glow of heightened awareness...

If you let it - Pain in play can teach you the wonders of your own body, and make your play more pleasurable.


But pain in play is not just a physical experience.

I also like pain in BDSM because it allows me to test myself against my own limits.

Many Tribal societies have a ritual that pushes the would-be warrior beyond their normal limits of endurance. That test provides a way for the warrior to prove that he has the necessary strength of body and Will - that He is a Man, in control of his body and his spirit, and therefore worthy of being a part of their society.

And in proving to society that he is a Man, he also proves it to himself - and learns that he is stronger than he could ever have imagined.

Pain within BDSM play has a similar role: it allows me to prove to myself and to my Top that I have the strength to endure and overcome discomfort in order to attain what I desire. That I am willing to submit and surrender to Him - that in submitting to His pain I will also submit to His pleasure.

It allows me to prove that I am a Man: a Man worthy of Him, and a Man worthy of our play.

Pain in play therefore teaches me that I am stronger than I thought - and leaves me feeling braver and Prouder than I was.


And I like Pain in BDSM because it takes me - US - to places beyond the ordinary.

Every Shaman endures an Initiatory ritual: one that puts them under enormous physical and emotional stress, and triggers both their body's endorphic response and tests their Will to push through into the other world. The ritual is both test and trigger to their power.

When done properly, pain in BDSM is the same: it becomes a door into submission, the key to our surrender - a transit through the magic of the body and into the spirit. As I transmute the pain into pleasure, I  open both myself and my Top so that we can touch each other in a way that encompasses and transcends body, mind and will.

And so, Pain in play takes our play beyond sex and into something infinitely deeper.


So why limit yourself to thinking that pain is about punishment? Why let yourself be so limited and negative about yourself, your Top, and your play?

Pain can be so much more than just a physical experience - it can be gateway and test, initiation and gateway. It can leave us more centred in who we are and what we are capable of. It marks us as Braves and warriors, shamans of the body and Spirit - and opens us up a whole new level of identity and experience.

Embrace pain - transform it from something negative - and it will in turn transform you.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

BLF Easter in Berlin (5)

Tuesday morning dawned to our last day in Berlin.

I hate last days. Sir won't let me pout or sulk, or ruin our time together by being sorry when it has to end - but it's still a hard thing, waking and knowing that this will be the last time I feel the warmth and strength and *protection* of His arms around me for some time...

I knew that we would be against the clock to pack and check-out, but, still, I managed a little wiggle and growl that had us both a little distracted and breathless by the time the alarm told us 'time to get up!'

I pulled on my craftsman jeans and popped across the street for some tea and bread, and then we packed whilst we ate (note to self: those butter-filled pretzel-like 'Munich' bread rings are amazing!). It always amazes me how far stuff manages to wander around the hotel room over a few days - and how it seems to have multiplied when you try to get it all back into the suitcase again at the end of the holiday...

We had a while before our afternoon flights, but the hotel kindly agreed to look after our cases for us - which also gave us time to chat to Hauke, the owner - and to discover their rather well equipped 'special suite' and 'room no.2' (second note to self: check prices and availability...)


With a few hours to kill, we wandered back to the military store (for the dog to get a smaller, tighter pair of craftsman trousers), and made one last stop at Maxwell Coffee.

Then it was time to collect our cases (bumping into the sweet Andy again, for a quick farewell), a whizz around the U-Bahn and S-Bahn, and then the quickest route through the airport from check-in to seat that I have ever experienced (we didn't have to stop or wait once, and I barely even had time to buy Geoff his JD - or have a pee!)


I must admit that I didn't fall in love with Berlin in the same way that I did with Amsterdam (it certainly isn't as pretty a city as Amsterdam - at least, not in the cold grey of winter) - but it was a fascinating city, and I would very happily visit again - perhaps for Folsom...? (hint, hint Sir... ;) ).

Despite the snow and cold, it was a brilliant time away. But then, I was with my Man, so what could it have been other than perfect...?

BLF Easter in Berlin (4)

We were up bright and early on Monday, ready to meet our new friends from the night before; Sir had a word with our hotel, and they very kindly agreed to provide breakfast for us all (even though we hadn't pre-booked) - so it was just a matter of popping down in the lift to where we had agreed to meet, and inviting them up.

Although Sir and B. had chatted a little in the bar the night before, neither B. nor Tank had had much chance to talk to me (besides 'hello boy!' and 'good pup!') - so we had to start with a few introductions; then we settled into a long and relaxed buffet breakfast and chat...

Some of it was simply practical: from what kinds of knee pads and gloves we recommended for protecting knees and hands (I've found wrestling/MMA pads and padded sparring gloves the best: they're tough, designed to stay put even when engaged in intensive exercise, and whilst the sparring gloves may lack the 'helplessness' of mitts that some pups love, they do allow me a little independence and 'tactile sensation', which my Man appreciates) - to where we got my rubber dog-hood (wet hot rubber - made to measure, and with plenty of options; but best of all: with a removable muzzle so my Man can easily get access to my mouth and tongue whilst I am still hooded and deep in pup-space; important for keeping me hydrated, feeding me, *and* getting His meat serviced...!)

Tank and I also talked about some of the practicalities of being in pup-space: from how to move about naturally (again, the parkour concept of 'quadrupedal movement' works best: up on the balls of the feet, with a flat back and a strong core; try not to lean forward over your hands, but keep the weight back over your hips and legs - that will save your shoulders and neck getting tired too quickly, and also makes you 'light on your feet'. Don't try to have your hands palm down: that'll bugger your wrists - instead, 'walk' on your knuckles with your thumbs outside the fist; try to keep your wrists strong and straight. It takes practice, but its worth it) - to how not to be trampled in a crowded bar (keep yourself tucked close to the bar and your Man - use His body, legs and presence as a shield - follow in His wake - especially when moving through the crowd. You should trust your Man to look out for you, but never pup-out to the point that you lose awareness of just how invisible and trip-worthy you are! And lastly, if you can, get an LED flashing collar or a high-vis harness).

Sir dropped in lots of hints too, of course: like always having a long straw handy so that the dog can drink from a bottle or glass without drowning himself - and *always* carry a torch (it's amazing how often a dog will drop things in the dark...!).

B. in particular wanted to know a little more about how I feel as a puppy: what motivates me, and how I came to be so 'natural' when in 'role'. He said that he had grown up around bio-dogs, but that being a Handler to a dog-boy was something completely new to him; he and Tank have also been together as a 'normal' couple for many years, and so he wanted to know how to move in and out of play in a way that encouraged Tank's need for puppy time but also respected the practicalities of their 2-legs relationship (you cant expect your partner to suddenly be looking after you 24/7, nor can you to pup-out in front of his parents or the supermarket check-out girl!)

That latter question was a harder one to answer: although Handler and I have been together for over 6 years, we both have separate life-long partners, and don't actually live together. Although our time together isn't always 4-legged, or even purely pup'd, still our relationship is founded on that initial interaction as Man and hound - everything else grew from that pure and simple bond of love and obedience, and it is always at the heart of everything we do, as pup or as friend.

It can be harder when your relationship began on other terms. My Geoff and I did try some pup-play when that side started to develop in me, but he's never liked bio-dogs much anyway, so the idea of a 4-legged boy-friend never appealed ;) At that point I was also still caught in the "pup = curr" misconception of the role, and the 'play' I kept taking us into was anything but - he had explored BDSM, power exchange and sex-magick for several years both before and after we met, but he finally had to call a halt to our pup-play, saying that he loved me too much to let me use it as an excuse to have him mistreat me and feed my guilt and self-loathing...

Meeting my Handler changed all of that - and changed me; He helped me forget the guilt, cast off my low self-esteem and embrace the *real* pup inside me: obedient, submissive and devoted to Him, true - but equally: playful, curious, joyful and fun. He helped me learn that a pup is not a curr, but a much loved and deeply treasured companion, playmate and friend.

And He helped me discover that puppy-play is *PLAY* - silly and funny and seriously profound - and if it doesn't put a grin on everyone's face (and a bone in your breeches), then you're doing it wrong.

That said, we did suggest that a pup's collar is always a good way to mark the start of play - or for either to request it (e.g.: if Tank wanted some pup-time, he could come playfully with his collar in his mouth, and drop it at B.'s feet - or if B. notices that Tank could do with some pup-time, He could rattle the collar and call 'Here boy: walkies!')

It's also important to remember that the timing for our puppy needs don't always match those of our Handler and partner - we pups can get quite obsessive, and see pup-time as 'time-out' - but full on pup-time can be exhausting for a Handler, both mentally and emotionally, so we shouldn't be disappointed if all they want is for us to quietly lie at their feet and play with a chew toy... (don't knock the power of the chew-toy - there is *nothing* quite as satisfying as lying with a squeaky newspaper between your paws at the end of a stressful day...!)

It was a fantastic chat - and Sir later admitted to several Dewey-eyed emotional moments to hear His pup talk about how much our play - and His ownership - means to me. He also had to muzzle me a few times, just to put a stop to my endless theorising and gabble! ;)

We finally had to call a halt when Tank's yawns got so big Sir worried he'd break his jaw (it had been a late night for them too!) - and when the hotel staff started clearing the breakfast things ready for lunch...! But we parted promising to stay in touch - and hopefully meet for some shared pup-time and 'Handler-mentoring'


With the guys off for a nap, Sir and I decided to head out to the suburbs - hoping to make a visit to Black-Body. Unfortunately, we had forgotten it would be a public holiday - so after a pleasant trip out on the U-Bahn, we found the shop shuttered and closed.

Undismayed, we had a stroll around - looking at the curiously austere apartment blocks and wintry parks of the suburbs, and finally stopped at a little cafe by the station - before heading back to Schoenberg (and making one last visit to Mr. B - where the dog bought itself a new leather uniform shirt to match its white-piped breeches - and Sir decided that the new low-cut style of their jeans might look good on short-arsed hounds, but were decidedly not designed for Masters of more 'adequate' stature and height...)

We then had a last fantastic supper at our little Italian - and went back to our room for one of the most satisfyingly *animal* fucks Sir has ever given His dog...

Friday, April 05, 2013

BLF Easter in Berlin (3)

Sunday morning saw us up and out for a long stroll, by way of the 'Maxwell Coffee' cafe for breakfast (which rapidly become our favourite Berlin haunt). We were both tired, but happy from our exertions the night before, and simply didn't feel the need to do very much more than dedicating the day to gently wandering the streets, enjoying each others company and the complimentary 'Guten morgen!'s from other sexy guys out on the street.

Although the dog did also manage to drag his Man into Mr B. to buy a new pair of leather braces... ;)


We ended a delightfully lazy day by popping into the bar beneath our hotel for a quiet drink before supper - only to find it heaving with sexy guys at the start of their own night of cruising and partying. Sir grabbed us a drink, then we drifted through the throng, stopping were we could for Sir to admire the view whilst the pup nuzzled under His arm and into His chest.

We finally stopped opposite a small group of guys with a young pup in tow; it didn't take long for their pup to spot my collar with a grin and a "woof!" - and then we both managed to get ourselves into a laughing arm's race of who could pup-out on their Men the most without either of us getting thrown out... :)

Sir enjoyed all the attention - but was getting hungry - so He dragged me up off the floor at last and suggested we head back out for something to eat, then go get dressed and come back down in proper puppy mode for a fun evening of public play.

We were lucky to be so close at the hotel. Sir changed into His Blue rubber 'bike leathers' whilst the pup pulled on his one-piece pup-suit, hood and paws - then Sir let me nuzzle into His leg whilst we fitted my tail into my hole. Then, complete as pup and pervert, Sir opened our door and had me trot along the hotel corridor beside Him and into the lift - then out of the Hotel, down the street and into the bar.

I couldn't see much in my hood - and wouldn't have noticed much anyway - but Sir says that the reaction from guys in the street and sat outside in the bar's covered smoking area was *classic* - with half of them laughing appreciatively and the other half standing in open-mouthed astonishment to see a 'real' dog out in the street ;)

The bar was still heaving with guys, so Sir had to be careful in leading me through the crush without tripping anyone up or having me trod on. Sir had decided to wear His high-vis 'Police Dog Handler' jacket and cap, which certainly made Him unique and somewhat difficult to ignore; He also had His maglite, and attached it to my lead so that it created a little 'spotlight' for the pup to move in - which drew everyone's attention to the fact there was a dog there (and also made it easier for me to see obstacles, cigarettes and broken glass). Even so, I was glad for our agility training, as I had to weave carefully between booted legs and straining leathered crotches - following in the wake of my Man, and ignoring the many gasps, laughs - and occasional pats and tugs to my tail...

It wasn't a special leather night, and the bar patrons were a real mix of leathermen, fetishists and 'vanilla' guys in jeans - but from the reaction of many of them, few had come across a pup in full k9 mode before. I could see guys leaning out to look at Sir in His high-vis (a couple of guys later said they thought they were being raided!) - then double taking when they realised He actually *was* a Dog Handler with pup in tow; I could also hear lots of comments of "Oh my god: there's a man down there dressed as a dog!"

Sir got us a drink, then led us up into the bar's floor area in search of a bit of open space; He found a nice spot by a group of young guys who were fascinated by both the pup and our interaction - saying that they had never seen a pup before, and the notion of pup-play was an entirely new fetish to them. They were incredibly friendly and open though - and Sir and I had a lot of fun playing up and showing them just how much fun a rubber-pup can be to have around; one lad in particular seemed very taken (and comfortable) with the idea of having a pup of his own - and had a very nice way of stroking a pup's head too.

Sir also spotted Woody, Paul and a few of the other Title Holders - and trotted us over to let them say 'Hello!' to bootbrush in person. Paul in particular was incredibly happy to see me - and made a wonderful fuss of squatting down to rub my head and tickle my tummy; He was in full rubber and smelt *wonderful* - and I'm ashamed to say that I got so excitable I managed to push Him right off his feet (he later said that he was probably a little unsteady on his pins after an evening of drinking, but I think he was just being polite!). They had another event to get to, so didn't get to stay and play for too long - but it was great to be able to let them see and interact with me as a pup, after our long conversation on Das Boat.

Sir headed towards the outside when the guys left - hoping to give the pup some time in the cool - it was too cold to go out into the snow, so Sir looked to let me sit under one of the empty tables in the covered entry - but the barmen where getting a little grumpy at having to step around the pup as they moved around the bar, and came out to tell us to move - I was getting quite exhausted by then, so Sir said we'd go back in for one last drink, then head back to our room.

I'm glad that we did head back in - because Sir was stopped by a nice guy from Ireland who asked if he could have a little chat. He introduced his partner, and said that he wanted to help him explore his pup-side, but that he had little experience himself and didn't really know where to start; they'd both seen and admired how well we interacted as Man and hound, and hoped that maybe Sir could give them some advice. Sir chatted with them for a while (as much as one can in a hot and noisy bar) - and they both showed lots of attention to the pup - but Sir finally suggested that we should meet for breakfast the next day so that we could chat 'properly' - and when I would also be out of pup-mode and therefore also able to give some of my own perspective as pup.

(Whilst they chatted, a drunk idiot came up behind me stamped on the floor to make me jump and tried to grab my tail so he could pull it out; the Irish guy immediately moved to shield and protect me, which was such a naturally 'Handler' act that I have *no* fears that He will make the most amazing Owner for His partner and pup).

Arrangements made, Sir said farewell and let me trot out ahead of Him and into the street: were we caused more minor chaos with passing guys stopping to stare as I scampered past - tail waving - heading back up the stairs and into the hotel lift.


I was *exhausted* by the time we got to our room - and collapsed into a laughing, panting heap of steaming dog and dripping rubber. Sir had to virtually carry me into the shower so that I didn't leave great big puppy-pools of sweat like I did in Bournemouth - and was then so gentle in helping me peel off my rubber and bring my core temperature down in a cool and luxurious shower.

Then it was into bed and into my Man's arms - a very contented and happy little pup.

BLF Easter in Berlin (2)

We are back home now - but the rest of our weekend was even more fun than the start.

The boat trip on Saturday was brilliant, but we were a little tired afterwards and so headed back to the hotel for a nap and a snuggle. We had planned to head for the official Uniform party at the Reizbar - but we were both feeling a little tired after having such a good time on Das Boat, and decided that we could have as much - if not MORE - fun by staying in instead.


For a pair of dedicated gear-perverts with over 40kg of perverted luggage with us, I'm afraid that we didn't even bother to 'get dressed'; well, not much...

Sir called His dog from the bed, then had him lie quiet - bollock naked and leashed to the table - whilst He pulled on His newly shined Dehners, sam browne, gloves and Muir. The low raked lighting only highlighted both the grain and the gloss on those beautiful boots, and just the effort of lying there, obedient and unmoving whilst He clicked across the bare wood floors had me trembling and breathless. I know that He saw and understood my struggle - because several times He made sure to stand as close as He could to my quietly whimpering muzzle without letting me touch Him, just to watch my trembling increase.

When He was ready, He finally stood before me - and only after making me wait another eternity did He give me the command to 'Sit!'

It's in the nature of a pup to only see the Divinity of His owner, but my Man really does look spectacular when wearing even the minimum of gear; He may have worn only those few straps of leather, boots and a cap - but He radiated such power and Masculinity that I knew I was purely and only His dog until He gave me permission to be otherwise.

He reached down - smiled as I lent my cheek submissively into the smooth grain of His tightly gloved hand, whined and sighed as He rubbed the back of my head and scratched my ears. Then He gave me the quiet command of 'Open!' - and slid His thumb into my mouth. The bitter grain of the leather was honey on my trapped tongue as He pulled my head towards Him: straightening my front legs and curving my back so He could look over my shoulders to see the gentle wagging of my tail.

He pulled out His thumb - and smiled as I obediently left my mouth open: my tongue just showing. He could see my eagerness, my need to lunge forward and suckle His meat - but instead, He gave me the fierce command to 'Wait!' - and then slowly pushed Himself into my passive muzzle: gently forcing apart my lips and teeth with His beautiful Manhood, inching Himself down into my mouth and then throat whilst I was helpless to do anything but sit, dog-like and trembling, whilst He invaded me and took His slow pleasure at this ultimate show of control.

Pleasing my Man with my tongue is normally one of the greatest pleasures that I know, but sitting there, passive, whilst He fucked my face was a torture. He took His time - and His pleasure - and not once did He allow me to move my tongue or take my own pleasure in pleasing Him. This was His pleasure, at His pace: and my muzzle and throat merely a warm, wet hole to be used.

I have never felt so incredibly and totally controlled as I did by that one command of 'Wait!' - nor so completely His dog.

When He finally let me take an active role and to start licking Him, I was so deep in pup-space that I was unable to do anything else: my humanity forgotten and body become dog-like, hands only paws pressed into the floor with my front legs straight, as I licked and groomed His meat - silent in my attentions but my tail wagging furiously to show my pleasure.

Sir says that He has never felt anything that feels quite like being licked-off like that: the subtlety and strength of His dogs tongue caressing and probing, the wet flatness of it rippling beneath Him, wrapping around Him - finding every tender edge and groove of His head - sure, being sucked off may be quicker, but it's only the dog's licky tongue that can have Him shaking and laughing as it brings Him to ecstatic release...

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