My Commonplace Masochistic Fantasies
» S&M Fantasies
I have a self-esteem problem: I think I’m swell.
That is a great improvement over adolescence when I thought I was just plain awesome (keep your hand down if you didn’t have a similar self-image in your youth).
Half a lifetime ago, on Geary Street just off Union Square I had an instance of satori: get over it. Unlike the hypothetical greatest artist in the world who never produced a work there is no equivalent in life to conceptual art. Simultaneously I escaped from the misanthropy that so often impoverishes the lives of people who in their youth were identified as gifted or exceptional.
Oh Hell, that still sounds like some sort of braggadocio. You’ll have to take my word for it that a few months ago on my kinkless site I strove to enumerate my many failings.
(This is a typically digressive preamble of a man who enjoys the sound of his inner voice isn’t it?)
I fear that my frequent focus of late on aspects of BDSM that seem contrary to emotional well-being may leave some of you thinking: Richard sure thinks highly of himself. Whatever I may post here my hope is to keep alert to my venalities and cowardices.
The weaknesses that I write about are all within me. Every batty wish, crazed desire, ludicrous lust is in my heart.
Background: Alexandra is not a US citizen. We get to spend three months together, then three or more separate. Our path together would be much smoother had we been able to spend the last (not quite) two years together.
I masturbate. I fantasize. She knows it.
Irregularly I send her reports of what pervy thoughts I’ve used to induce orgasm. She received one a few days ago.
My fantasies are just as banal and ill-proportioned as any other man with slavish and masochistic desires.
My strongest fantasy is of lifestyle TPE (total power exchange). My imaginary Owner requires inflexible protocols, complicated rituals, all sorts of special forms of address, gesture, posture. There’s no romance, kindness, forgiveness.
All the usual torturous amenities: being confined in a box, scheduled beatings regardless of how satisfactory my performance. To be distinguished from my owner’s elaborate tastes in recreational sadism. Perpetual degradation is a given.
Trite as can be. Fun too.
24/7 pet status is my secondary, milder basis for fantasies.
I’m never allowed on furniture. Nor to stand upright unless necessary to perform some task.
I’m punished for any failing: a whipping or being locked in a closet for hours. I eat and drink only from pet food bowls. Piss replaces water when ever I’m found less that perfectly pleasing.
Surrender rather than cruelty. Again a very strict Owner. When I visualize myself put in a cage it is a space of great serenity.
Again commonplace (possibly more so among gay men).
And a zillion short scenes of nasty and harsh forms of suffering.
The other things I shared with Alexandra were about us and I’m not repeating them here. But being able to evince humility would suffice.
There’s nothing clever or unique in any of this. Just the quotidian dark desires of many men with my orientation.
There’s no sin in having them. Only in forgetting what she wants and what is practical.
Comments
Personally (and maybe even professionally), Richard, I think your ability to balance fantasy and reality is something we all should strive for. Fantasies should be outside of ordinairy, on and over the edge, unobtainable in most instances.
I don’t need to tell you that to live as a full-time, caged pet would erase you, quite literally from this world. I’ve found this to be a rather common fantasy for both submissive men and women. But find it sad when someone is so obsessed with the fantasy that it becomes an unobtainable reality. Which, of course, leads to their utter misery and heartache.
Balance is probably one of the greatest gifts we can give to ourselves and those we love, not to mention it being a true indicator of self-actualization.
And if you were in a cage, your blog would disappear. Richard, as we know and love him, would quite literally ceast to exist. Which would break more than a few hearts, including Alexandria’s.
Posted by: Angela St. Lawrence | August 21, 2006 5:39 AM
Sometimes I visit the old usenet newsgroup alt.torture. There are plenty of guys who post semi-articulate notes that they want to be locked up forever. Their sexual frustration must be awful.
A woman recently sent me the link for a cage she bought her “male pet.” So if I can get out of the money pit Alexandra and I may play with caging some. What the longest duration might be I can’t guess. Nothing nutty. Out pet play is very gentle. I’m more relaxed than urgent.
It is funny but I’m sometimes irked by my relationship with my fantasies. I can hardly ever summon them up anymore. Sort of like having a favorite TV show cancelled.
Since she’s been away the D/s images are fleeting and mostly of simple things like sitting at her feet or rubbing my cheek along her boot. I dream as much about holding her in my arms and nibbling her ear.
Posted by: Richard | August 21, 2006 6:16 AM
Reading your list of sick and unrealistic fantasies is like taking a peek into my own mind. :-)
I think there’s something more to it than the dismissive “these are just banal, ill-proportioned” forays into extremes. These scenarios have fairly universal appeal for a reason.
I think I am going to have to think and write some more about this.
Best regards,
Thomas,
Posted by: Mistress Laura's boy | August 21, 2006 9:25 AM
I figured you’d find the themes familiar.
My fantasies grew more harsh during periods of sexual frustration. To a degree I found that to get a thrill and have an orgasm I had to push harder and harder into brutality.
As I wrote in an entry ten days ago - The Path to Here - I’m fairly sure that almost all of my BDSM needs had there birth in very earily childhood. Probably both the way my father treated my mother and the awful fear of him that I grew up with.
Those would be my reasons.
I hope that I didn’t give you the impression that I’m ashamed of them. I used to entertain myself with them frequently. But I think given my love affair with Alexandra that the dark dreams have diminished.
Posted by: Richard | August 21, 2006 1:57 PM
Any male fortunate enough to have been chosen for the privilege of serving a Great Mistress as her personal slave, pet, boot-licker, footstool and whipping toy … is justified in feeling that he is pretty hot stuff.
After all, what greater honor can a male have than to selected by Her for the distinction of submitting, suffering and serving for Her pleasure and amusement? No goal can possibly be higher than this, can it?
Richard, your lucky position at the feet of the Divinely Dominant, Mercifully Loving and Cruelly Caring Alexandra is the envy of every right-thinking (i.e., realistically submissive) male on the planet!
Posted by: worthless dog | August 24, 2006 9:24 PM