What Is It They Say About Early Birds?

This year I've started early. I promised She last year that I would. Well, what I said when she was so disappointed in me for not properly observing Valentine's Day was, "Just wait until next year." So I've started early.

Papyrus in Soho has a sale on V-Day cards. Buy three get one free. I got six free cards. Plus a bunch of ninety-eight cent stamps, song lyrics to paste into the aforementioned cards and a perverted editor's eye to making the Hallmark holiday hum with the vibrancy of the depraved and deviant. Oh okay, I'll let a couple of vanilla "I love you" cards slip through my debauched revisions, but I think it fitting to mark this made up holiday in this fashion. Plus, so far She loves her cards.

This time last year she started her new job and kind of stopped focusing on me. It hurt and I whined and pined. This year she's moving to a new place and very busy at work. To say the least, I'm busy too. But last year we came through a time when we veered apart only to come together and become closer and stronger. So this year I have lots of quiet trust that our bond is strong and true.

As well, a good chunk of my motivation to study and pass my second bar exam is to be in a position to see She more often. It's not the only reason mind you. We could incinerate and I'd still want my condo with the waterview and parking spot for the convertible. But the thought of her in the picture makes the pain of bar study that much more righteous.

A kinky woman friend said my study was a true act of devotion to my domme, and said that she hoped that She appreciated it. I hope She appreciates it too. But the most important thing is that I know it is, at least in part, a deep act of fidelity and love for a woman who changed my life. Then again, there's also breakfast on the terrace in February in a t-shirt and shorts ... She or no she.

Oh who am I kidding? She has me wrapped around her little finger!

This Ain't No Lay Down

My friend Ms. Mahwah Kiss claimed the other day that the reason I have been in so much pain over the sale of my coop and separation from my wife is due to my kinky proclivity to serve a dominant woman. Ms. Kiss maintains that because I am compelled to serve, my inability to sustain alpha-provider status is causing all manner of heartache. The lovely Ms. Mahwah believes she knows this about me because one afternoon when we met for coffee, I insisted on having her sit while I served her coffee and a snack.

I declared, "See, you get a servant when you get involved with the likes of me."

"Hmmm," she mused, "Well I like that!"

Anyway, her whole take on my emotional state these days got me thinking that maybe she was onto something. Even though I do not have a kinky relationship with my wife, there are developed aspects of my bdsm personality in my bond to her. I can recognize my hurt pride for now in not being able to continue to provide as just that - hurt pride. But I have to admit that the depth of my sorrow might be related to a need to serve. At least the thought helps me to manage the ordeal and feel some honor that my submissive side is so actively engaged.

Which brings me to my next point. Since when is submission all about the lay down? Recently, a dominant woman friend confided that she had bottomed a bit and that she loved it because she got to lay back and do nothing. She got to just bliss out in a pleasurable release from any responsibility. Now I suppose there are aspects of sub-space which match up with this description. Certainly, the dominant is often the planner, the decider, and the actor. But I gotta say that for me, submission is very engaged and interactive. I figure out how best to compliment my domme's style, accomodate her preferences and meet her needs. For me, this is the very heart of active submission.

Indeed, there are lots of times when I play with She and she's doing nothing and I'm doing everything. Maybe if I mess up I get punished. But I'm all about being an a vigorous, dynamic bottom. Unless I'm wrapped in Saran wrap...

Come to think of it, just tie me up now and I'll lay here and moan.

Picking Up A Stitch

Over the past three years I've come to believe that my kinkiness is a wonderful, rich part of the fabric of who I am. I've become comfortable with my submissive sexuality and have developed pride in a trait that I had for years been ashamed of and had kept secret. But with all the stresses of this time in my life my kink feels lost and unmoored. I can hear a distant horn sound in the thick, cold fog but the sea just feels bleak, dark, and forboding.

Sometimes your kink just gets lost for awhile in the tide of a life. It'll come back though. In a couple of months I'll be writing about seeing the first green buds, a rebirth of life here in my middle ages, and I'll be spring fevered over the blooming of open toed sandals. But until then it just feels like the season of the witch. Oh wait...witches are hot!!!

Out With The Old

I always feel like the air is fresher, the sun a bit brighter, and a clean slate beckons on New Year's Day. While 2009 had its challenges it was just an incredibly positive year in so many ways. For me, the year importantly marked a more comfortable merging of my kink life with my day to day. I look forward to that continuing in 2010.

For now, I content myself that even my ascetic, self-imposed course of study for the Florida bar brings with it the occassional snippet of bdsm. Picture me at 5:45am or at 10:30pm hunched over my iPod touch, as I listen to the recorded lecture by a law professor about a subject of law I forgot twenty years ago. As I desperately try to push and prod my fifty-six year old brain to develop a memory again, I am pleasantly surprised by the sporadic kinky reference - or is it just me?

For example, in Constitutional Law there's the requirement that a dispute must be "ripe" for resolution. That is stuff must have actually happened to have a court look at it. The example was of a woman who wanted to go to court to have a law declared unconstitutional because it allowed guys to be caned for oogling women. No guy had ever been caned under the law. Case wasn't "ripe for review".

But puleeze! The chick clearly was not a domme and all I wanted to know was did the jurisdiction where you get caned for oogling women have reciprocity with New York so I won't have to study for the bar a third time when I move there.

I have both kinky and vanilla friends who tell me I'm extraordinarily masochistic for putting myself through bar exam torture. But like the caning example, it's my kink working hand in hand with my broader and wider life to inform, inspire, and drive it in a positive way.

Gotta tell ya though, all this work makes me wanna bust out and do a little freaky some'em-some'em. Ah well, perhaps in March...