Contradictions and Confessions in BDSM

Even after having had so many BDSM pro-dom sessions since 2005 I still feel the contradictions within me. A war rages between the logical vanilla me and the kinky inner self that BDSM means so much to.

The end result is that I feel conflicted. I’m pulled inexorably like gravity toward BDSM while my logical self rebels.

Here are my thoughts and experiences on this.

Dom in Corset

The visual is so important, hitting hard at the fetish and the desires, making the mind wander. Fetish is all about the mind and our deepest secrets and passions.

In choosing a mistress the image is a powerful but very flawed motive. My experience is that the bio on the website is so much more important.

Rules for reading this : expect contradictions. That is where it’s at for me. I’ll be as plainly honest as possible.

Relationships are an issue. And at every level too. There I am in an office supervising a number of staff, and some time prior I’ve been stripped naked, in bondage, being strapped by a leather clad dominatrix with a very wide folded leather belt. It’s my own belt she’s worn then taken off and used on me, then put on again. All the time I’ve been ogling her, reveling in my wide belt fetish and the need for corporal punishment.

The contradictions in these times come to mind often. Imagine what my staff would think and say if they saw me in a session? And yes, I am precious about this.

Sure, these are vastly different times, vastly different in every way but I do feel that contradictory nature within my self in these situations.

My wife knows of my sessions. She doesn’t like it much but she knows I need it and am better for them. She knows there is no sexual contact and I’m not cheating on her. She knows I love her and she loves me. But I feel the tension, almost a disappointment in her voice when, yet she even suggests it at times, that I have a session when my need is obvious. Then when that time comes around again I keenly feel the conflict – the diversion from a normal-vanilla relationship that my sessions give me.

I do love her more for accepting my need, and I hate the thought of disappointing her for my strange (to her) needs.

Time changes everything. The longer I go without a session the more it feels normal and reasonable. I feel it pulling me in, my mind rationalizing how normal and fine it will be to be in the dungeon again stripped, strapped and caned.

Then when the session is over I’m floating. My brain is in a different space and I love it. Everything else is banished.

When I walk out of the dungeon I feel the relief and am at peace with the world. I really don’t feel the need for BDSM, it is so deeply slaked. The thought of another session does not appeal at all.

That lasts a while. Then after a few weeks my special needs start to return. What was once, after the session, something I really don’t need becomes more and more important.

I’ll admit to being ornery and cantankerous.

And that happens and gets worse because I need a session!

If my staff knew, they’d be sending me off with a note for misress to make it extra hard every few weeks when the grumps set in.