Sex, Lies, and Submission

I just got done listening to Axe's "Masocast" with his friend Ayla. I'm hoping Axe and I can get together soon to tape our own thing. At the very least it will help him dispell the notion that he's only doing the interview thing to chat up dominant women. Sub-cred...that's what I'm offerin' Axe, sub-cred.

Anyway, Ayla sounded really super smart and very thoughtful as she talked about prodomming, meeting submissive men to play with, dealing with trolls and having a public orgasm. Yeowww! Most powerfully for me she provoked reflection early in the interview as she talked about the reasons why she gave up prodomming. Her number one reason was that she felt complicit in the lies of her married clients to their wives and children. She admitted to being totally judgemental about married submissive men who sessioned, served and were collared to prodommes in secret. This maso-inspired mendacity caused very real disdain. If a client asked for "humiliation" from the menu, she let him have it - right between the ... eh ... eyes. "What would your wife think if she saw you now?, she'd snarl."

Whether it is "cheating" to lie to your wife about seeing a prodomme has been talked to death on various boards. The subject inspires intense debate. I think it is flat out cheating but I nevertheless did it for almost 30 years. My wife does not know about "She-Who-Visits", this blog, my life on the Max Board, or any of my kinky friends. But I as I listened to Ayla, it really struck me that her guilt was the flip side of my, as Crimson said, pejorative treatment of "client".

For so many men who have deep urges to submit to a dominant woman, but whose life circumstance won't allow that urge to be a relatively open one, prodommes present a positive and healthy outlet. I can't imagine what I would have done with my overwhelming urges if I hadn't been able to session with the dommes I've seen. Ultimately, because I met an incredible prodomme who respected my marriage and protected hers as well, I was able to shed an awful lot of my legacy of shame and become proud to be a submissive man.** The question is, what does one do with all that newfound "subbie-pride".

Tara Sterling wrote me a wonderful email entitled "Phases, Transitions, Cycles" in which she urged me to go with the flow and not analyze too much. Such wonderful advice. I fear, however, that my current "phase" is one of reflection and rumination. But maybe both Ayla and I should just lighten up and go with the flow.

It's spring. There are flowers to smell, sunshine to chase and open toed sling backs to endlessly oogle. Hey, if it makes us happy, then why the hell are we so sad?

**The re-read sounds a little like client = legacy of shame. That's just me, not all or necessarily even most clients.

Scrambled Eggs

That's what Crimson and I had for breakfast yesterday and today during her visit to New York. She also patiently tolerated me as I ate some awfully tasty dead, smoked pig and drank coffee. I was going to serve as chauffeur for her run this morning to the airport but had to bag out because I'm super busy with work. Not to be a deadbeat, I arranged alternate transportation for her.

I can't linger over this post as I often do, but I wanted to write that talking to her is always so much fun. And so important for me. Despite a hefty age difference and experience gulf, we have this really great connection. I'm always so happy when I get to see her.

And dudes, she promises a final rebuttal to our point counter point on my last post about my feelings on "clientness". I begged her to just have at me over our eggs, but she smiled wickedly and said she'd "save it for the internet". And...she said she was going to deal with all my little cronies too. The ones who support me and urge me on. I don't know about you, but I can't wait!

Anyway, she and I talked about all kinds of stuff. Lines always blur with her as she just has this wonderfully progressive way of looking at gender roles and relationships. Like yeah for Jane, who's sportin' a chain or hey for Dick in his skirt. Safe home Crimson, safe home.

Is Client A Dirty Word?

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I Am Waiting By Your Door

On the eastern balcony of GCT, as she sporadically feeds me her tuna tartar, she tells me about her medical problem. The one she's struggled with ever since I've known her. The cruel, painful, cosmic joke that has haunted her mercilessly. She's come to the end of her fight, she says. Though not life threatening, she talks of the more radical, surgical solution.

I take her hand and ask her to please tell me these things because I'm her friend. Tears roll down my cheeks. Her eyes tear too. She thanks me.

Now I know. She gave me her essence.