ISO update…picking

4771155337_9dd3712bca_zWell, this will prove to be a busy week. I got back from my trip and the emails continue. If you don’t know, a few weeks ago I placed an ad seeking an additional, submissive play partner for john and myself. This is something we have discussed many, many times over the years (and fantasized about), and finally, we feel that we are at a place in our world where we can comfortably seek this sort of thing.

I placed an ad in craigslist.

People often seem surprised when I mention this, as though craigslist has deteriorated so much in quality that I’d be a fool to seek anything from within its pages. Not true. I have rarely come across the fakes that others say infest the site. I am not denying that there is some of that out there, but I just don’t really come across it that often.

A few years ago, I corresponded with someone that I really liked, and I suggested a public meeting time and place. I heard back from him, and he was horrified. He admitted that he had been lying to me, toying with me, playing a game with me because he did not think I was real. When I asked about meeting, he realized I was indeed very real, and he was tripping over himself to apologize. I kind of liked him for his humbleness and honesty. No, I didn’t meet him;  when I learned his truth, he did not meet the criteria I was looking for, and I sent him away with his tail tucked, but I think we both had positive things we took away from the experience.

I simply have found good things out there. Good people.

I am meeting 3 of them this week. Short, easy coffee dates. One lunch date.

All are quiet different than one another.

I am wondering what it will be like when we actually meet. We have spent a fair amount of time writing, sharing, opening, revealing, asking, answering. These exchanges make us familiar to one another. We have grown to like and respect one another thus far because we have come this far.

But I also know that all of this very much has a lot to do with chemistry. If it isn’t there, then it’s probably going to go no where. It’s a two way street, this chemistry thing. Perhaps they are worried that I might not like them when I meet them. Well, guess what? I face that too. Although, I wouldn’t say I ‘worry’, but I dislike rejection as much as anyone else. Rejection is not easy. But it is a reality. When I say I don’t worry, that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a bit nervous too, because I do. The bottom line is that I found john on craigslist because I placed one ad, for one day, 10 years ago. I got gold the first time I tried, and I never stop feeling lucky about that. I remember the fear of rejection, and how wonderful john was. He taught me things I carry with me to this day.

One of the ones that has emerged from the “ISO” ad is a lovely TG person I will call stephi. I was not expecting to find stephi, but something about her found its way to me. I think it is her writing; she is good at it, and that impresses me. She seems honest, caring, fun, easy, comfortable. It’s just a feeling I get. I think about meeting her, and I am wondering if I might like to keep her for myself. I smile wickedly and playfully when I think this. She is sort of like picking out what I want for dinner, instead of what we want for dinner. I know john’s taste, so I feel confident he’ll like the same things, but in this case, it is my pleasure that is coming first.

But truthfully, all 3 sound lovely. That is where I am for now. I think for another contender, I have built up a very high hope, and I am a bit worried about it being dashed. If if sounds too good to be true then it just might be. In this case, I am wondering if perhaps I am not what he seeks. We shall see. Starting tomorrow.

Oddly, I still get replies trickling in from that ad. I am amazed how far back in the CL archives some people go, but I am still getting a few replies. I don’t love this part; it’s a lot of writing and awkward beginnings. I like getting past the beginnings.

I am curious.

I am hopeful.

I am excited.

I am open.


Camp-Enchanted Forest


I will share in this post the tale about an enchanted forest of sorts. You’ll see what I am taking about in a moment. And it’s all real, it’s all true.

My boy loves a particular forest event at camp. I lead him on collar and leash and he is naked, sometimes blindfolded and loaded with a backpack that holds our supplies. I lead him down a path, around  a small pond and to the entrance of the woods. We will pass many people as we make our trek, and they will smile, knowing that something special is about to happen to my boy. Sometimes I will make my blindfolded and naked boy wear a sign that says “touch me please”, and many will stop us along the way, hands petting my boy all over his body. Most hands are gentle and soothing. A few are not. But these few are usually the hands of the friends we have made, and they take greater freedoms with my boy because I give the silent, smiling nod of approval.

We enter the forest where perhaps thirty other participants have gathered. I choose a station for my boy. It could be a fallen log, a place under a dangling rope hanging from a sturdy branch. It doesn’t matter, it’s just a spot. I will secure him there, hands often cuffed, sometimes feet too. I am his monitor and protector, and sometimes I have company in this task. I am there to approve what can happen to my boy, and what cannot.

I take him to this place because it is a wonderful opportunity for him to have playtime with other adult males. Lovely, sexy adult males. Women too….just as adult, just as sexy. But here it is generally the males I am after, wanting their attentions on my boy.

My boy knows not what will happen to him. But generally, this is what happens: My boy will be bound, naked, collared and silent as he waits for what befalls him. I will sit nearby, my poster board sign encouraging certain behaviors, forbidding others. The silence is good. I do not want my boy to hear the negotiations that often take place. I want him to hear only his own breathing, the inaudible whispering of his caretakers, the warm breeze in the trees, and the moans of the others who are just like him…..naked and vulnerable.

Imagine being this way… fully unaware of what is going to happen, so exposed, so nervous. And yet happy. Aroused. Curious. Hopeful. Afraid. And completely safe, inside and out.

My boys knows that I am never far. That I guard him fiercely. That we do this because we enjoy it, and because it makes us happy to be able to live out fantasies such as these. There is no point in doing it if it doesn’t have a happy ending.

My boy waits, his arousing anxiety building, and then it starts. A man will approach. Perhaps two men together. Or a man and a woman. They are sometimes wearing leather, sometimes just jeans. A few are naked too. They will approach my unassuming boy, take a look, and then read my sign, learning what is ok, and what is not. Like a hungry person at a buffet, they will circle him, looking him over, deciding which are his tastiest parts. A hand will caress an ass cheek. Or lift a leg so that cock and balls are fully exposed.  My boy will feel fingers under his chin, tilting his head upwards so they can get a good look at him. It takes a few minutes, this dance. And all the while, john is left wondering what is about to happen to him.

It doesn’t really matter what happens to him. I will leave that up the imagination. I will let john share if john chooses to share. Just know that he gets to spend a couple of glorious hours as a human statue…. being petted, caressed, spanked, flogged, used and ignored while many others around him are experiencing their own similar fates. When I have decided that he has had enough, he is walked to a nearby blanket that I have brought, somewhere near that little pond, and we lay together in dappled sunlight, my pet pressed against his Mistress, a soft smile of deep contentment on his lovely face.

Adult Camp


3498831389_87172fb44a_zMany have asked over the years about this “camp” my boy and I go to on average two times a year. Some years, we go three times. For 8-10 days we get to live in adult, naked bliss. The word “camp” is generic. The experience is anything but.

Since I will be away and unplugged for a week, I thought I would schedule some posts about camp, sharing the things I love about it. I am not naming this place, I am not naming the dot com who owns and runs it, and I am not naming any names. But suffice it to say, it is all very real. For these weeks, we get to create and participate in a magical wonderland for consenting adults. Sometimes up to 1,200 of those consenting adults.

Twelve hundred sounds like a lot. And it IS a lot. But, it’s intimate, which is what I love about it. The camp has a few different locations that it changes according to the season, and for the most part, I love the summer season ‘camps’ the most. It means being outside, naked, and it means pretty much any kind of SSC play imaginable.

Camp has indoor places, with indoor plumbing, and indoor play spaces. But it has just as much outside stuff too.

A typical day at camp will find my boy naked, collared, and milling about the communal outside space of our group cabin. Camp chairs create a circle, and folks will gather, some clothed, some not. Music may or may not be playing, but if I had my way, my boy would be providing coffee to all of us with J.J. Cale crooning sweetly in the background. My boy has morning chores to do. Coffee, the making of our big bed, putting my clothing away, cleaning up our bar/kitchen area, organizing the toy bags, providing massage, running errands naked. Our cabin is one of many on a tree lined road. No cars are allowed, so there is lots of pedestrian traffic to gaze upon. We wave to friends, we smile to those we have not met, we compliment on costumes or cane marks if that is all they are wearing.

We outline our day. What shall we do today at fantasy camp for grown ups? Swim naked in the large, in ground pool (always a ‘Yes!’ vote in Chloe’s book!)? Go to any number of classes or demos that are taking place all around us? Go find one of the many play spaces and go play? Or, do I loan my boy out to others so that he might provide service to them?? Or, do I go play with another? Do we play with one another (again, always a ‘Yes!’ in my book)?  Do we nap?  Stroll around the grounds and play voyeur?  We can do any or all of those things. And we do any and all of those things daily. Rinse, lather, repeat.

My boy knows that starting around 4pm or so, he is on duty for cocktail hour. We love cocktail hour. We don’t drink much at night, because night time is dungeon time if we so chose. But happy hour is my kind of hour. We have an enormous communal bar with our cabin mates, and each day, we have a drink special. Anyone is welcome to come by, visit and share with us. What makes it ‘special’ is that it is shaken or stirred and served from a slave. Or, at least, someone playing the role of slave. :-)

Night time has us dressing for events. There are several nightly events, and sometimes we do several, and sometimes we do none. That is the beauty of camp. There is nothing you have to do. But with so much amazing stuff taking place, it’s hard to pass stuff by. Some people get dressed up in the most amazing of fetish gear. If its a hot, summer night, some continue to walk around naked. For me, I prefer a skirt on bottom, topless on top. That is about the extent of it for me.

Sometimes my boy will be requested to top someone else. I love when this happens. I love watching him get Dom’d out. I think he is sexy as hell, and as we are a switch couple, my pleasure button gets pushed hard when I see him upload himself in this particular way. But more on THAT subject later.

I will schedule another post about camp and I will share it here over the next couple of days. I do so because this is a part of our lives. We do this for real. This place really does exist. We get to create fantasies and then go to safe places to act them out. Such as kidnappings. Have you ever been been kidnapped by a bunch of tough dudes, dressed in boots and camo? I have, and it was awesome!

I am hoping my boy will post intermittently with mine some of his own memories and reflections about camp. It is a unique experience for each of us, and yet we share in it together. In other words, it is art imitating life.

ISO continued….

16873254585_2cca04616e_zRegarding an earlier post (ISO), I was asked in a comment if it turns me on to see my sub engaged with another man sexually. My immediate thought was, “Well, yes, of course it does”, but on the heels of that, I had another thought, equally loud, that stated, “But it’s not just that….”

The short answer is that yes, the idea of him sexually engaged with with another man does many good things for me, on several different levels. Over the years, when I have had him flat on his back and I’ve been riding him, I will lean over him and whisper tales about him being fucked and used by another man, and I see what it does to him. I feel his hard become harder. I see rapid breathing become panting. My stories are often short but detailed, sort of like movie trailers that highlight the ‘Best of’. It can get him hooked, and he wants to know more.

We don’t actually get too many opportunities to make the fantasy a reality, but we do get some. My boy knows that my stories are just that…..stories, but he also knows that I have enabled some of those stories to become true. He will never really know what might become a reality, and I like keeping him in that suspense.

I want a bit more of the reality. When I placed my personals’  ad over a week ago, it was with the hope of finding just the right fit for us. I will sound like a bitch when I say this (and I don’t really care), but I want exactly what I want, or I want nothing at all.

Yes, I hold all the power, and I can make all the decisions when it comes to bringing another male submissive into our fold. I have received a good number of replies. I am appreciative of that. I respond to all, I am polite to all, but I know instinctively that I will be weeding out many. The things that ‘get’ me in these replies are perhaps not the things that are hot and sexy to others. I don’t actually care that someone can lick a pussy for 27 hours straight without stopping and that they have a nice dick and know how to use it. To me, that is about them, and not about what it is I seek.

I get more interested when someone can actually write and express themselves as a whole. If they are interesting, I become interested. Good grammar is a turn on for me. Yup….I admit it. I met my boy of 10 years because I put up a craigslist ad for 12 hours and he was the one who wrote with intelligence and thought. He got me at hello.

So, 10 years later, I am still attracted to the same things. An ability to connect. A desire to serve. An openness to explore. An intelligence that is shared. And a certain amount of inhibition.

I know it turns my boy on to be taken by another man. I want to see my boy on his hands and knees, in the living room, as another man sits on the leather couch, legs spread, head thrown back in pleasure, as my boy practices giving head. I envision myself in the kitchen (its an open concept, I can see all), pouring a glass of wine, watching but not staring. I want my boy to hear me tinkering about, knowing the entire time I am observing, judging, surveying, rating his performance.

I want to see this additional man grab him by his hair and pull him deeper. I want to hear my boy gag and see the man let up slightly until my boy collects his composure, and it starts again.

I want my boy to excel at the art of giving head in part because I know he wants it. My boy is pan sexual. I like honoring that.

But it’s not that easy. Putting an ad out to the universe, seeking an intimate counterpart to our established dynamic is challenging. It is daunting, actually. I can be a bitch, yes (and oh, how I like to be!) but I am also aware that hurting someones feelings is not a game I ever want to play.

I have exactly what I want all mapped out in my head. It is now about being flexible enough to go down a road or two and see what pans out. I have to remember that we are all human. We all are vulnerable to the same human fear of rejection. I will not reject someone because their cock is too small, or because they aren’t tall enough or make enough money. But I will reject someone who can’t and won’t recognize us as safe, sane and interesting. As the Grateful Dead sings, “I will not forgive you if you will not take the chance”.

So, yes. The ad is bringing good things. A few have completely piqued my interest. I know that I am liking how they present, what they have to say. I have not completely mapped out what it is that I want of them. I know that I want them to be pan sexual as well. I know that I will reserve the right to use them while my boy watches. I know I want service from them…..some measure of cooking, cleaning, doing. I will want to know all about their pleasure buttons too, and they things they dislike. I may want them to join us on one of the kinky, week long vacations we usually take twice a year…..6 days of kinky fun with 1000 other kinky adults, play spaces open 24 hours a day, clothing optional. Fantasy Island for adults. I will want them to be naked in such a place. I will want to send them over to the cabin next door and offer their services in massage and cleaning for a few good women who adore such things.

I want an additional toy that I can thoroughly and easily enjoy. I have one, but there is room for another. My boy john will always be my number one, and that’s just the way it goes. But there is room for more joy, more fun, more creativity. Will the submissive male who agrees to meet want this too?? I am not sure.

But I also know that I won’t forgive myself if I do not take the chance.



Moving from the fantasy to the reality

A lot of submissive men are filled to the brim with the fantasy of a dominant woman directing this or that. We get into our heads certain fantasies that fill our spankbank and we pursue them. “Forced” bisexual behavior is one such fantasy. CFNM “all the time” is another.

Reality interferes with many of these fantasies. It’s impractical to be naked all the time, particularly when both the woman and the man in a FLR work and they both have kids. CFNM can’t happen outside of small windows of time. And yet, the submissive man will keep this in their mind as a fantasy and strive toward it.

And then… sometimes… something happens. The submissive man might get the opportunity to serve, get some fantasies fulfilled, experience some beautiful things… and the fantasy will take a back seat. What’s replaced the fantasy is the reality of service. Perhaps it’s a permanent collar. Perhaps is a virtual permanent collar. Or perhaps it’s just living with the service of the Mistress that’s influenced him enough to realize that he’s beyond the fantasy. He moves past fantasy as the object and realizes that service is the object – and he’s already found that destination.

In 2015, I have moved from a world where the fantasy has dictated my submission and service goals. Now, the service I am providing is a reality and the focus of my submission to my woman. And yes, we have that fantasy hanging around. I’m happy to bring those fantasy ideas into the light and give them their due, but what I’m doing today, what I’m doing this week, what I am doing for Her is what makes it all work.

Don’t get me wrong – we’ll keep playing in the games of fantasy, but I am satisfied with so much more of my service to her that the fantasy can be held mostly as reward or punishment or an adjunct to what our relationship is.

I’ve thought deeply about this over the past couple months and have held off writing until it made itself obvious and I was able to accept this. It doesn’t change “everything” – but it does change where my brain is.