I’ve used my boy at least five times in the last two days. Life is good.

My boy and I are apart right now. I wrote this to him.

God I want you so fucking badly right now. I’m looking at pictures of you and remembering the expressions you make while I use you. This morning I was fantasizing about you sitting on my lap and riding my cock, facing me. I was imagining you having to lower yourself onto me and what your face would look like and how you would move yourself up and down because you’d be such a desperate fucking slut at that point. I want to ruin your orgasms. I want to milk your prostate. I want to ride your face and smother you and make you gasp and beg and plead for longer than you ever thought you could. I want to have a place that’s just ours where I can force you to say naked and serve me and sleep at the foot of my bed and rely on me for every bit of pleasure you are lucky enough to get. I want to invite someone over and have them watch me play with you. I want to give you to someone else to play with and you won’t have any choice in the matter. I want them to take picture of you for me. I want to fuck you and see your smile and I want you to kiss my feet and my ass and my lips. I want you to be my boy forever and I want to own your cock forever. I want to play with the extra little bunch of skin on the bottom of your head; I want to play with you after I’ve let you come when you’re sensitive and you don’t like being touched. I love and adore you so much, boy. I want you to know that even as I beat and crop and slap you. I want you to go so deep that you almost start to cry when you come back. I want to hold you close and make sure you know that you are my little boy and I will always protect you. God, I want someone to know that you are my boy.



Some sessions are less serious than others; they just naturally end up that way. Sometimes after you’ve had your boy pleasure you with his cock (your cock, really) you stick a finger in his perfect little ass, stroke his prostate over and over again, and jerk him off rapidly. He tells you he’s getting close and begs to come and you allow him to because he’s done a very good job pleasuring you.

He leans into it when he comes and it hits his face and then it hits him right in the eyes, twice. He flops back on the bed, still deep in sub mode, but laughing and groaning and reaching out for a towel or anything else he can use to restore his vision. You’re also laughing, laughing hard, but you manage to hand him a roll of paper towels. He applies the whole roll directly to his face (causing more laughter on both sides) before tearing off a sheet and finally wiping up enough to be able to open his eyes. They are very red. 

Then, after he has cleaned up his face enough to see, you take a red sharpie and write “this boy came in his own eyes” up the side of his body. For days afterwards you and your boy will bring up this moment and laugh at what a ridiculous and wonderful moment it was.



I am a self-taught dominant. I have read books, listened to speakers, and watched videos about BDSM, and without these resources I would be completely lost, but all in all I still feel that my self-education has been a significant part of my journey as a dominant. 

Another important aspect of my dominance is the fact that I also very much enjoy being dominated. In my relationship with boy I am the sole and constant dominant, which feels right and complete. But I have also had experience being submissive, and having that perspective has been so useful while getting to know boy and experiencing new things with him, especially because this is his first foray into BDSM.

All this came back into my thoughts a few days ago, when I penetrated My boy for the first time.

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Mild TW: Sexism/Racism Discussion

So, after my Lady’s far more interesting first post…

We had a quiet moment yesterday in which my Lady listed exactly what I am to her. It was one of those moments worth remembering, as it combined everything I love about the D/s dynamic and the emotional closeness of a romantic relationship.

“You’re my boy…” she said first, then, “…you’re my bitch, you’re my slut… you’re my whore (this one was received well)… you’re my toy, and my property.”

It was a good moment. I could hear her smile, emphasizing “whore” and moving further down a list of possessive terms. I could feel her across my side, her left arm across my chest, her nails slightly pressed into my forearm, squeezing me with each new term. She was telling me something I knew and wanted to hear: that I was her sub, but that I had a place, and I felt valued and degraded simultaneously. I can’t imagine too many ways those emotional cues are combined pleasantly outside of D/s dynamics!

It was this last point, about the uniqueness of this emotional content, which gave me some pause as I thought later. For me, these words are bereft of any special meaning outside of my relationship with my Lady whom I love very much. When I get called a bitch by my Lady, it’s an expression of power, willingly offered and happily taken. It’s part of my trust in her and her ownership of me. But whenever one of my friends hears the word “bitch”, she’s transported back to an instance of sexual violence perpetrated against her. The word “boy” used in conversation outside of this context evokes the discourse of the antebellum American South, where any African-American male could be called “boy”, regardless of age, by white social superiors as a mark of hierarchy.

As a sub and a privileged white cis-gendered guy, I feel a bit troubled by using hallmarks of real oppression and social inequality to mark the mutually enjoyable power balance maintained in our relationship. It’s a difficult balance, not because I’m concerned about accidentally having those words be taken out of context, but I don’t want to give imperialism, misogyny, or racism incidental credit in this very, very important part of my life. I suppose my only defense right now is awareness, but for me, this blog is also about sharing these thoughts. This is my first time as a sub, and my first time sharing these thoughts at all, let alone on the vast Internet! I hope you find something to react to, and feel comfortable sharing some responses with us.

- boy

The First Time

I took my boy’s cock completely for the first time last night. he wanted it so badly; he was begging for Me to use him.

Of course, I didn’t take him right away- I scratched up and down his sides; kissed him over and over, biting his bottom lip; I whispered in his ear that he was My bitch and felt him tense with excitement and pleasure at the statement. Having undressed him completely I began to stroke that cock of Mine, getting him lost in the pleasure, getting him to forget for a moment that his pleasure is completely optional and a privilege, and then suddenly I stopped and slapped his lower stomach with the palm of my hand. He gasped and moaned in pleasure and appreciation of My skill at tricking him. The moan was followed by a light, breathy laugh- My boy laughs like this often when I am controlling him. It is a laugh of sheer pleasure and submission and joy.

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