Save The Last Dance

Cuckolding falls into a category of bdsm play that is both edgy and humiliating. The idea of a gorgeous dominant woman having intimate and very sexual play with another because her primary submissive doesn't measure up gets some guys very hot and bothered ... including me. It is however, a very delicate balance, no? Deep down, I want desperately to please her. I want to succeed. I want to be rewarded. But some of us sing the melody of damaged lemons. Some of us have had real, painful failures in life that we must somehow deal with and overcome. We sexualize them to make them pleasurable. We seek stylized re-enactment. We seek redemption from the ghouls that haunt the closet.

Humiliation in bdsm play can be very unfulfilling. Someone whose blog has been sadly self-quarantined in the wake of the "Big Chill" in New York City wrote very eloquently about how, for her, humiliation fell into two catagories. I know I'm getting this wrong, but she said something to the effect that humiliation play was either "situational" (dress him in frilly pink panties and tarty red lipstick and call him a "girl") or "personal" (you're such a sloppy, fatty). Understandably, neither was acceptable for her.

"Forced crossdressing" as humiliation presented misogynistic, anti-feminist themes and caused her to feel bad. I totally get that and view this sort of shame-on-you play as hamfisted, cookie cutterish and wrong-headed. On the other hand, she'd say, telling an otherwise fit, trim, slender submissive that he is a skinny, scrawny, limp-dicked, excuse for man was just plain demeaning and was similarly unacceptable. So for her, humiliation was not a menu item. In favor of mutual empowerment, she eschewed providing the flavorful, savory taste of artfully baked humble pie. She did however recognize the inherent mortification of a barehanded beatdown or a deviously engineered afternoon of predicament bondage.

For me, sophisticated humiliation play and cuckolding fantasies in particular let me create pleasure from life's deep disappointments. I am at once unworthy of my dominant's bed. But if I endure, I am given a chance at deliverance and salvation. Ultimately I seek release - both literally and euphemistically. By literally I mean ... well ... you know what I mean. Euphemistically, her reward is my redemption.

All this takes a large measure of connection and trust. It takes an on-going relationship and, in my opinion, can't be created on demand two hours from now at the dungeon. But in a way that years of therapy has not, humiliation play and cuckolding fantasies, done for the amusement and fun of a handful of great dommes, have let me be free of the sense that I have sometimes failed miserably in life. With them, I am reborn a hale, happy, healthy guy. For me, this is a big reason why prodommes totally rock!

So when at the kinky sock hop, my most important safety rule of humiliation/cuckolding play is that she save the last dance for me.

A Proverbial Ham Sandwich

Sol Wachtler, the former Chief Judge of the New York State Court of Appeals, who had his own little run in with the law, famously said that prosecutors had so much unfettered control over grand juries that they could indict a ham sandwich. Grand juries are supposed to act as a buffer between the power of the state and its citizens. They are supposed to review evidence fairly and impartially and decide whether there is probable cause to accuse someone of a felony crime and return an indictment. But in reality, prosecutors control virtually every aspect of proceedings before grand juries.

In the State of New York, grand juries are composed of at least 16 and no more than 23 people. It takes a vote of a majority of a quorum of the grand jury to return an indictment. An indictment is a formal accusation of a felony crime. Grand jurors sit in a room and listen to testimony. Prosecutors have witnesses come into the room, swear to tell the truth, and then ask them questions. A stenographer is present, but grand jury proceedings are secret. It is illegal for prosecutors, grand jurors or other employees such as clerks and stenographers to release information about grand jury testimony.

Prosecutors issue grand jury subpoenas to individual witnesses they wish to have come in to testify in front of grand juries. Sometimes, people refuse to testify on the grounds it might incriminate them. They "Take Five" or exercise their rights under the Fifth Amendment to the United States Constitution. Even innocent people can take the Fifth. It is not the haven of the guilty.

However, prosecutors may grant witnesses who invoke their rights under the Fifth Amendment immunity from prosecution and thereby attempt to force their testimony. Once immunity is granted someone whose grand jury testimony is sought may either testify or face contempt charges and jailing.

Even if someone receives immunity, if they lie to the grand jury they can be prosecuted for perjury. Here are some interesting excerpts from New York State's Criminal Procedure Law;

§ 50.10 Compulsion of evidence by offer of immunity; definitions of terms

The following definitions are applicable to this article:

1. “Immunity.” A person who has been a witness in a legal proceeding, and who cannot, except as otherwise provided in this subdivision, be convicted of any offense or subjected to any penalty or forfeiture for or on account of any transaction, matter or thing concerning which he gave evidence therein, possesses “immunity” from any such conviction, penalty or forfeiture. A person who possesses such immunity may nevertheless be convicted of perjury as a result of having given false testimony in such legal proceeding, and may be convicted of or adjudged in contempt as a result of having contumaciously refused to give evidence therein.

2. “Legal proceeding” means a proceeding in or before any court or grand jury, or before any body, agency or person authorized by law to conduct the same and to administer the oath or to cause it to be administered.

3. “Give evidence” means to testify or produce physical evidence.

§ 190.40 Grand jury; witnesses, compulsion of evidence and immunity

1. Every witness in a grand jury proceeding must give any evidence legally requested of him regardless of any protest or belief on his part that it may tend to incriminate him.

2. A witness who gives evidence in a grand jury proceeding receives immunity unless:

(a) He has effectively waived such immunity pursuant to section 190.45; or

(b) Such evidence is not responsive to any inquiry and is gratuitously given or volunteered by the witness with knowledge that it is not responsive.

So ... what to do if you get a grand jury subpoena? Get a lawyer. What if you think you might be in danger of being viewed as a potential witness in a criminal case? Get a lawyer.

What does this have to do with kink? Unlike many of the other recent arrests and raids, the Rapture bust involved the execution of a search warrant and the seizure of various records and other items of evidence. Promoting prostitution is a felony. In order for a felony to be charged in New York, a case must be presented to a grand jury. In addition, if the New York County District Attorney's Office wants to add more charges like money laundering or tax evasion, or charge more people, they'd present evidence to a grand jury. Prosecutors issue subpoenas and put witnesses in front of grand juries and ask 'em questions. Witnesses could be both dommes who worked at Rapture and clients who sessioned there.

Again, my usual admonition that nothing here is legal advice. Ya can't rely on any a this submissive guy nonsense. And dommes, don't use yer clients fer yer lawyers. Guys, make 'em find non-client counsel, would'ja!

This could all just blow over. But ... isn't it better to hope for the best and plan for the worst? After all, I like to picture y'all rollin' ... not bein' ham salad.

Pirates and Perverts and Play ... Oh My! (Or ... Advo goes to Paddles)

So ... finally I'm getting around to writing about my outing to Paddles. I know for many this is not a particularly momentous thing ... but fer lil' ol' me ... it was major! I was invited by my dear friend and I got to wear my collar in public. Thrilling stuff. We went on the Friday night of Labor Day weekend so the club was pretty quiet. It was "Pirates of the Carribean" night. I maintained that my medium black, Gap T-shirt gave me a certain Keith Richards, I'll-walk-the-plank-for-you, cool. But she chastised my choice of size and reminded me we were not going to a barbeque.

Paddles was oddly homey. Lots of very nice people who knew one another. There was some play going on. Mostly guy tops with women bottoms. It was a first for me to actually see this play. It was discordant. A familiar melody played slightly off key. She looked at me and said, "It just always seems unnatural to me."

Then there were the lurkers. At once both pathetic and sympathetic. We were in one of the dark, back rooms. In a corner she was beautifully perched on a wall bench. I was happily kneeling. Her chocolate service - opening and holding. The lurker appeared out of nowhere and just sat right next to her without so much as an introduction. Wanted to know if she was "working". Claimed to be into public humiliation like I was. She politely drove him off. Public humiliation ... pleeeze! I was a proud candy caddy.

But on another night. Without her and pining for some community, I might feel like him if I was in a corner at a party or club all alone. But then again, I'd never just presumptuously plop down next to a beautiful domme and ask if she's working. Little did he know it was our last night together ... little did he care.

Then there was the friendly guy we met at the bar. TES member ... very cool. Offered to introduce me around if I made it to a meeting. I'm gonna make it one of these days. When the stars align or I can negotiate with the wife for open friend time. It was great fun to be in public with her and chat with another nice person. Kinky, normal, nice.

Then she led us both upstairs. It all seemed weirdly natural. Two of us serve her. He on her left foot, me on her right. Me as her backrest, he worships her feet. I smell her hair, she leans into me ... and hooks her tanned leg around his neck. Another lurker seated in the room watches. The TV - not us.

I'd definitely go back with friends. Alone I'd feel too lurker like. But Paddles had a great feel and was very friendly. I'll for sure go back. 'Cos there's love in that club.

Busted!!

I learned today from a combination of reading Max and the NY Post and Daily News on line that Rapture has been raided. The Daily News story, done by experienced crime beat reporters, says that cops returned after the initial arrests with a search warrant. Apparently, business records and payroll records were seized.

I have never sessioned at Rapture, nor do I know anyone personally who worked there. However, having been an active Hang poster for the past four or five months I'd have to have been brain dead not to know a bit about Rapture. I'm very sorry this has happened and prostitution laws are ridiculous and antiquated.

Again, this is a blog and not a law office. I am not dispensing legal advice, just sharing the scramble of my submissive mind. You can't rely on anything I'm saying here as legal advice.

However, if the report is accurate that a search warrant was executed and records were seized - if people are traceable the cops will come looking and asking questions. Y'all should lawyer-up quick. Here's my post about bdsm and the law. Good luck and be careful out there!! IMO ... FWIW ...

The Red Corset

Two years ago, just before what would turn out to be our last "tributed" session, she told me I was expected to buy her a gift. A couple of weeks earlier, under her watchful eye and at her direction I had bought myself a CB-3000. Despite my need to conserve capital for the start-up of my own business, she allowed as to how if I could afford a chastity device for myself I could certainly afford to buy her a little gifty.

She provided ample warning, but the day before our session she let me know I was to be ready to purchase her present. This caught me flatfooted. I had not been piggy banking enough scratch to cover my tribute and the pressie. But I was desperate not to disappoint her. A trip to the ATM was out of the question, but like a cornered rat I realized I had massive amounts of change laying around my office and my apartment. I became a quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies rolling machine. After working feverishly, I came up with close to my hourly rate, but had to drag some rolled coins along with me when I met her as I had not made it to the bank to exchange all my shrapnel for skrilla.

We went to Purple Passion. There, she picked out a bright, beautiful, Asian design corset with ornate silver hooks in the front and serious tight-lacing action up the back. She tried it on in the store over her clothing - the salesperson tugging mightily on the laces. She just looked stunningly gorgeous. She loved that I paid for it partly with rolled coinage. She laughed and said I'd no doubt pulled my bequeathing money from between sofa cushions. I forked over the dough eagerly and couldn't wait to see "my gift to her" in the dungeon! However, she had other plans.

When she appeared in our room for playtime, she was wearing black retro lingerie. Absolutely a fave but it was not the oh-so-red-hot corset I had just purchased for "her". She scoffed at my question about whether she was going to wear it and said she was saving it for a real man. She proceeded to describe just what she planned to do with the not-me-guy in lusty, nasty detail, faning my cuckolding fire. I never asked about the corset again.

Four months later she left New York on her great adventure. During her preparation to leave she described for me how she'd given away great pile loads of clothing. Blouse after skirt after lingerie set - gifts - most with the tags still on. Then, almost everything she wanted to keep went into one of those pods. When she left town she'd pared down to bare essentials for the intrepid journey.

Two weeks ago, during her visit to New York, she bought me a collar. A beautiful, wide, black leather band with a smaller red strip attached for the buckle eyes. She surprised me with it. I had so much wanted her collar. I had asked to be hers and she'd said yes. She attached the leather around my neck and described how she'd fussed and obsessed to get the length just so and make sure it had a doo-hickey for a lock. Once she had it on me ever so precisely she stepped back and smiled. She said it would match the corset I had given her perfectly for our night out at Paddles. She just slayed me ... totally off the chain.

My eyes tear up as I write this. It's hard for her to tell me how much I like to hope she loves me. But that right there ... that do show somethin'.

She asked me back to her room after our trip to Paddles. I was so happy ... 'cos I feel fractured from the fall and I just wanna go home ... with her.

Fencing In The Rainbow

Our wonderful week together is over. It just seemed to rush by like so much out of control flood water. Her absence has always left a hole in my heart that I've tried to fill. These efforts have ranged from near disasterous to disappointing to an unfair press of others for an imagined connection in a misguided effort to replace her.

So this week I asked to be hers and she said yes. It was such a wonderful feeling ... she calmed and completed my stubornly searching submissive soul. She made me a happy man.

I know when the pain of separation subsides there will be a new sense of calm. I'm hers now. She bought me a collar. She's it's keeper and the key holder of my heart. Now, maybe I can go on and make new friends. Maybe even play a little without constantly trying to remake the experience into some nouveau her.

There's a great thread on Max about boundries and expectations. The thought is that our very personal and powerful interactions in play need to be managed - fenced in if you will - for fear of raising expectations. Now, don't get me wrong, I do my fair share of management and try to be realistic about how far my relationship with her can go. But we deal with raw emotion in the dungeon, during intense playtime or during an intimate shared moment. Management is laudable - but in the end - illusory. At least it is for me.

Today, I hurt. Today I just want to be with her always. Today ... I just wanna tear down the fences. Because sometimes ... sometimes dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.