Monday, December 30, 2013

A night at Gear, Bristol

Sir took His dog to the 6th birthday celebration party at Gear Bristol last night.

It was a sell out night, with over 150 guys there to celebrate along with James, the founder of the club. There was no customary theme, so the whole range of fetishes was on display: guys in sports gear, kilts, beautiful full BLUF - and of course, lots of rubber... 

Sir wore His new suit from Rubadiction, which generated a huge amount of interest (no wonder: He looked fuckin gorgeous in it!) - whilst the dog scampered around in my rubber, hood and harness. It was really heartening to hear so many guys welcoming a Sir and then exclaiming "oh brilliant: you brought the puppy!"; I'm pleased to say I was a little shameless in begging for head rubs and fuss - my little tail wagging so frantically that I had to keep clenching to keep it from shaking itself out!

Sir caught up with a few friends, then found a nice quiet corner were He could remove the pups muzzle and give him a much needed drink; we gathered quite an interested crowd, enjoying the sights and sound of an obedient dog greedily gulping down his Mans beautiful piss. A couple of sexy beach-bum bears took a particular interest, so Sir sent me snuffling after them, begging for head rubs; they wanted the pup to suck them off, so Sir had to explain that I'm a one-Man dog - but they did join in with lots of firm haunch rubbing and dog-humping whilst I set my tongue to pleasing my Man's cock...

Sir took for anothe wander then - down through the dark-room (my flashing LED collar drawing lots of compliments and comments of 'what a great way to stop Your dog getting accidentally trodden on!') - and out to the conservatory area. There were even more friends gathered there, so Sir let me say a barking 'hello' to the gorgeous Hayden and the uber-sexy Rubass - before giving everyone a little demonstration of how well trained His dog is: having me 'Present!', then bark out His hand-strikes as He spanked my firm rubbered-but and made my tail thrash. We also made everyone laugh with the pup's 'Pigs in Spaaace!' Trick ;)

Finally, Sir let me lie at His feet and nuzzle at His boots for a while - then let me work my tongue-magic on Him until He gifted me with the sweat nectar of His cum down my throat.

Sated and happy, we trotted back to the main bar to wait for the cake-cutting and champaign. Whilst we waited, we got chatting to a lovely couple of guys who where new to puppy-play, but fascinated by how it felt to be a pup - and so Sir took off my hood and let me come up fr pup-space to chat and explain that it's a kind of sub-space, focused around devotion and service and obedience - but with companionship, friendship and live at its heart. They turned out to have a background in the Radical Faeries, so we also then had a fascinating chat about gender, fluidity and performance... :)

Finally, the cake was cut, the champers flowed - and everyone sang 'Happy birthday' to us all. James also took a few pictures of Sir and I - which I will share here when they come to me - and then it was sadly time to be saying our goodbyes and heading back home to Sir's.

He let me sleep over - and is taking me away to Birmingham for an overnight pup-fuck tonight - so I'm sure there'll be more to blog about soon...

Saturday, December 28, 2013

BDSM is not abuse - abuse is not BDSM

I read the following on someone's Tumbl today, and it incensed me:

"It is so rewarding to watch even some Queers as they denigrate, humiliate and destroy the questionable human status of willing queer faggots even lower than They.

Sink lower, faggots. Embrace and savor the psychological wounds and scars of becoming ever lesser and lesser, understanding all the while that the Power, Pride, and Cruelty you allow and encourage in Other Men is all you were born for and live for. Your reward is your sexual addiction to crippling shame and loss of self esteem."

How the fuck can anyone actually think that - let alone find it fucking sexy?!

OK, maybe I'm not a sadist so I don't see Power-play from the same perspective, but how fucked-up must you be if you so detest the men that you Dominate that you want to destroy them so utterly?  - and how much must you come to loath yourself when you believe the very acts you desire to commit with those men as being the lowest and most disgusting possible...? 

You think that desiring men makes you less of a Man - that being gay is so sinfully perverse that it makes you sub-human - and yet you eroticise  'punishing' those men by forcing them to have sex with you. I mean, fuck, talk about internalised homophobia and Freudian self-hatred!

What a twisted idea of both Masculinity and of power.

BDSM is an empowering process: it gives us leave to play a role, wear a mask - and to therefore see our real selves behind that mask.

BDSM is about power and the exchange of power; it's about taking taboos and breaking them so that we might reclaim the power within them for ourselves. It is about taking our power and lending it to another so that we can experience powerlessness - and in the process learn just how powerful we really are. 

Gay BDSM is also about Masculinity; true masculinity. One Man kneels before another in honour of His power, his manhood - and on doing so, acknowledges the power of his own masculinity. It echoes the Greek tradition of the Older educating and civilising the Younger by imitation, and directly reflects the ways of the warrior, and the Initiation of the shaman: we honour our Master, and serve Him so that we may learn to BE like Him, we give of ourselves to Him so that He may transform us and make us greater than we were.

The church destroyed that understanding - and turned power into something to be stolen and then wielded brutally over others. It turned masculinity into an excuse to dominate, belittle and abuse. And it rewrote our sexuality as something unclean, unnatural and shameful.

'The paling priest doth lie!'

Screw anyone who swallows that shit:  screw homophobia and screw self-hatred - screw humiliation play, and screw anyone who wants to salve their own guilt by inflicting their own self-hatred and self-doubt upon those who are better than they.

My advice? When some 'Top' calls you a faggot, a queer, a cunt or a cum-dump - when he gets off on making you feel small, or tries to make you feel bad for what He makes you do - get up off the floor, laugh in his pathetic self-hating face, and walk out the door.

No Man who thinks you are less than He will ever be worth your respect or your service. It doesn't matter how he dresses it up - how much leather he wears, or what misguided 'satanic' regalia he dresses himself up in - Any Man who can fetishise hatred is an abuser - plain and simple - and you are far better of being miles away from him.

Thursday, December 19, 2013


My Man came to see me today. 

We didn't play - He knows I've been feeling down and lacking in my puppy mojo, so He just wanted to give me a no-stress, pleasant day of good company and friendly chat (although we did pop into my local Adult Store for a shufty, then went for an afternoon tea ;) ).

Sir did wear His new Chippewa High-Shine boots though. Ye gods but He looked gorgeos striding up my drive in those glossy mothers. Best of all: they had a few marks marring their beauty, and when the pup mentioned the fact, Sir grinned and said "well, you'd best do something about that then, boy!"

With a happy yelp I asked Him to settle down on my leather sofa - long booted legs stretched out in front of Him - whilst I first got Him a drink, then knelt and got to work with my bootblack kit. It didn't take me long to lose myself in boot-pup heaven: absorbed in the intensity of concentration and the wash of devotion - the sharp rich smell of the polish - the way it slicked wetly across the surface when first applied, then slowly sank in, dulling the leather as it thirstily drank in the nourishment - noticing the fine stich detail as I worked the seams and welts, the straps and buckles - feeling his feet and strong calves move beneath the leather as I worked - grinning up at him when He reached an affectionate hand down to tousle my hair.... and then the physical exertion of slowly buffing that dull surface into the highest shine possible: watching the boots come back to life - and finally, finding my own self reflected in their surface: knowing that reflection meant that a small part of myself was now forever sealed within the polish and the leather.

In those beautifully devoted and sweetly perverted moments (and the delicious arousal I rediscovered) I realized that my mojo hasn't been lost - it's just been sleeping...

Thank you Sir - for giving me the chance to remember just who I really am. Yours.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

A puppy love letter to my Handler

My apologies if this seems maukish: my Handler has been away for a few weeks but is due back home today, and I am sat here with my nose pressed to the window, giving little whimpers and barks at the sound of every car that could be His. His absence has only deepened my awareness of just how important He is to me on every level.

Gods but I love my Man - all that I have achieved as a dog is due to Him: His training, encouragement and support. I am who I am because of Him, and I am honoured to wear His collar and call Him ‘Sir’. I am His: proudly, devotedly, completely - balls to bone, heart and soul - and I am lucky in that I know that love, devotion and regard is shared in His own love for His pup. 

What pup can ever wish to say more.

Tuesday, December 03, 2013

Still here...!

It's been a while since a post here, so just to let you know that I *am* still alive. Just...

It's been an eventful few months: after 25 years together my partner and I finally got married (officially too - thank you UK Parliament!) - being pagans, we had a very simple registry signing for the 'official' bit, then had our Handfasting at Halloween, with both our families and close friends in attendance. Neither event could have gone so smoothly without the generous help of my Handler too: both as our official witness at the Registry Office, and then with all the help (gazebos, cutlery and crockery) He and His partner lent for the post-Handfasting family 'Do'; hell - both of them even did a bit of waiting on the night itself!

No wonder both me *and* my 'new' husband love Him so much.

It's been a big month for Sir too: He took early retirement! (I know dogs aren't supposed to cus, but lucky bastard! :) ).  He's currently taking some time with His Man to get used to their new life 'together' - but We're both hoping that not needing to constantly harmonise two sets of work rotas will make it easier to see a little more of each other for puppy-time. I've been so busy this year, and we've seen each other so little - and I miss being His pup so much...

And I guess that's the final piece of news.

I had another 'little meltdown' last month.

I know it was purely down to the stress and unhappiness of work, just like last time. But knowing what caused it didn't make it any less distressing when it happened, not stop it from hurting even now.

I'm (mostly) OK now: the Dr upped my meds and signed me off work for some enforced R&R for a few weeks (or until after xmas if I can stretch it), and I'm using the time to retry to find my mo-jo; getting creative seems to help a lot: I've been having a lot of fun reacquainting myself with my paints (well, I *am* an art-librarian...!), learning a  few new pieces on the piano - and getting in lots of long, stress-releasing morning runs...
I hope to be back to strength again soon. And once again - I couldn't have survived it without the love and support of my Men.

I love you guys - heart and soul, balls to bone.

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