WAX

An original post from my previous blog.

Some time in June 2013

He Squirmed and moaned as I cautiously spilled the wax from the candle down his back.  Immobilized by the restraints, he bucked and squirmed the best way he could.  

"You doing alright?"

He nodded his head. 

"um hum."  He mumbled as he lay there with the ball gag in his mouth.

There have been a few brave enough to try wax and explore.  There is something about a guy trying wax for the first time and losing his fucking mind.

What does a Dom get out of pouring candle wax down the back of a sexy bottom?

For me, it is the way they squirm and moan.  It's almost poetic.  It really doesn't have much to do with inflicting pain as it is they way their bodies respond to the sting.  It's being bound and having no alternative but to trust that I have their best interest at hand.  It's the way the white wax dries up and looks like the nectar from a man's orgasm.  Seeing the dried substance on the body is so erotic.

Wax is just so hot.  Literally.

BLACK

 

It is if every day, fifty to one hundred strands on my head turn white.

Every day.

Every single day.

And though it may be nothing more than an over active imagination of what my eyes truly reveal, the reality of what was black is no more.

So why not name this post "GRAY" or "WHITE?"

Because BLACK is the origin. 

Black is the state in which it all began. 

And so it is.

I accept the reality.  I also deeply miss the melanin that painted me a different picture from yesterday.

I have gone into miniature crisis in my 40's and now in my 50's I accept it.

I accept it.

It doesn't mean that I like it. 

It doesn't mean that I embrace it.

It means I accept it.

A FRIEND

November 17, 2024

Sunday 

Link: LOGAN ARROW

I'm listening to my Sunday Music as I leisurely clean up my room. I'm not on any set mission.  If the room gets organized today or not, there's no worries. Cleaning and organizing is more of a therapeutic past time.  Since Sundays are usually chill time for me, I make no deadlines nor do I focus on getting anything done.

Logan was in town Friday and I stopped by his motel to say hi and give him the pup hood that I promised him.  We sat and talked for a bit and then we took a walk around midtown. 

He is one of the few contacts that has kept in contact to see how I am doing. When I was in my funk, he messaged me numerous times.

One message:

"Hey, you get down to S. Cali and you good?"

Another a few days later:

"Checking in again seeing if you're ok."

"If there's anything I can do tell me..."

There are actually a few guys that I chat with that have offered an ear. 

There is a unique difference however, between a buddy that offers his ear and occasionally sends a picture of him rock hard or his butt hole hungry for attention and someone who doesn't quite know what to say or how to be supportive but wants to make sure I know that he is there. 

I appreciate both parties.  I know right now, Pole nor Hole is really on my list. It is actually refreshing to just talk with Logan and it not have to have any sexual tone.  And yes we did discuss a few of his encounters which I enjoyed talking to him about. That fact that we can talk about everything and the kitchen sink lets me see intentions that reach further than dirty talk, sex, or anything related to it.

DEPRESSED, NOT QUITE DEPRESSION

Friday, November 1, 2024

I am just sad right now.

Depressed but not quite depression.

Anxious but not quite anxiety.

I was supposed to have been in Southern California yesterday.  But a major distraction with Boss thwarted that plan. I'm not upset at him about it. There are just some needs that require immediate attention.  It just is what it is.  I do know the longer things are put off, the deeper the anxiety grows.

I just want to get there as soon as I can so I can get the hell out.  My sister and I have a lot to do over the next few days.  I am just not ready for Southern Cali.  Not to yuck anyone's yum but for me, it does nothing.  It never has.  Now, the dread is intensified with all the drama that has gone down in recent months.  

I just want this nightmare to be over.  Because, that is what it feels like; a surreal nightmare in which I would have never imagined my father in the mental state that he's in now.  I wish I could wake the fuck up and have my Dad back.  But I am already awake.  And I don't see his state changing anytime soon.