About My Lover…


I need to tell you about my lover.  There’s a lot to say, multiple blog posts worth for sure.  I’ll start with this:  I have never loved someone in such a clear-headed way before.

I’ve talked about being addicted to a lover, swept away, even bewitched.  Don’t get me wrong, those were some great love affairs, epic loves that I will always cherish.

So what’s different about this one?  I described it as ‘clear-headed’ because I don’t feel foggy or love-adled or drunk on love. I’m not worried that one morning I’ll wake up with a love hangover and wonder what the hell I was thinking.  She and I have come together as two independent people, responsible for our own monkeys, not dependent on each other for happiness, not needing the other person to change for us.

I don’t need her to be happy, but I’m definitely happier for her love in my life.

Every day she shows me another angle of herself and I fall more deeply in love.  Every day she proves that I can trust her with the most difficult truths and she shares hers with me as well.  There is an equality to what we are doing that lends itself to stability and balance.  And every day it gets better.

Happy third mensaversary, sweet pea :-)

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BSQ: Boys, Sweat and Queersex

A few weeks ago, my lover and I made our way to Seattle to play hard at Blood, Sweat and Queers, a monthly play party at the Seattle Center for Sex Positive Culture.  It was a big night for us.  Mal’s first time at this play party and this facility and my first time topping in public.  Mal was coming as my boy and I could not be more proud or excited.  And a bit nervous.  I wanted everything to be perfect for both of us.


We had a room at the Belltown Inn, in the heart of Belltown, an area popular with young adults in the evening. It was here that Mal’s service began, carrying my heavy bag up to our room. Once he had unpacked my bag and filled my water bottle, he went back to the car to get his things.

We made good use of our time in the room until our stomachs growled so loudly we couldn’t ignore them. To fill our bellies with fuel for the evening’s exertions, we walked around until we found the Crocodile Cafe’s Back Bar. I ordered us a pizza (bacon, chicken, mushrooms and olives) and I got a beer. Mal was so sexy and handsome, I had to have my hands on him, as subtly as I could, and he was clearly feeling the same way. And he was definitely fully Mal, I could feel his masculinity and the strength he was holding in service to me. His sexy energy filled me with such anticipation and need. My beautiful, beautiful boy.

After dinner we went back up to the room to get ready. As we got ready, our excitement grew. I was in cowboy boots, Carhart’s and a black t-shirt under my western snap-front shirt. I was hard packing, and the resulting bulge got an appreciative look and grope from my boy. Mal was wearing layered t-shirts topped with a sleeveless chambray top.. fucking hot boy. It was all I could do to not undress him again. I packed my play bag: water bottle, cuffs and clips, drum sticks, my paddle and his heavier one, gloves and rubbers – some in my pockets as well. I tucked my navy blue hanky on the left side, black gloves on the right. And, of course, I had my belt on.

I was keyed up, excited, but less nervous as the moments ticked by. I was feeling the calm that comes to me before playing – whether it’s a soccer game or a night in the dungeon. I was prepared, I knew the game, I was fit and ready, mentally and physically. My boy was hotter than the center of a bonfire and so damned cute I could hardly stand waiting to walk into the play-space with him.

And so, what was the game, you ask? I was walking into a play party I hadn’t been to in 2 years, bringing someone new to the space. I was also going to top publicly for the first time, I was walking into the party as a Sir with his boy. We’d talked about that, how I was to introduce us. I’d proposed introducing him as ‘My boy, Mal’… and I’d recorded my voice saying it. I wanted him to be able to hear it and feel it before deciding if it felt right. His response was an enthusiastic ‘Yes!’ and he told me he loved hearing it so much, he’d been playing it over and over again.

We arrived and Mal took up the toy bag again.  Stepping inside and getting into line, I looked ahead and saw NeighborFemme. That made me happy. I’d been hoping to reconnect with some friends that night, and she was one of my favorites. Also, the last time I was there, I was being topped by her and two others.

I had Mal take care of our coats and the toy bag. When he joined me, I was listening as NeighborFemme regaled myself and another regular with the story of her evening. I introduced him to her, and NF remarked about his hands (large and strong) and indicated it should be quite a scene between the two of us. Mal hadn’t heard it clearly, so I paraphrased: “I believe what she means is that she’s looking at you and seeing a strong boy, of similar stature to me and thinking that if it you chose to not be submissive, it would be quite a fight.”  It’s true – we are well matched and I am just able to overcome him when it comes to strength vs. strength.  I enjoyed seeing him get that recognition.  And the fact that such a strong, handsome, intelligent person was submitting to me that night filled me with pride. I felt 10 feet tall and powerful.

I wish I could show you pictures of him that night.  The way he stood with his strong shoulders back and his head high.  The way I took my long sleeved shirt off and didn’t even have time to remember to ask before he’d taken it, folded it and put it with our things.  His quiet strength, standing with me, ready to meet my every need, was an amazing gift.  And we’d only begun.

I showed Mal around the space, pointing out the different pieces of equipment, telling him about my experiences with the various benches and racks and crosses.  We looked at the medical room and the ‘wet room’.  Everyone was still socializing and the whole place space was open to us. We’d talked earlier and decided that starting early was preferable to waiting until late to play.  I indicated that he should following me and sat down on a couch, motioning him to the floor at my feet.  ”Come closer, between my legs.”

A shy glance from him, probably wondering if I was going to have him suck my cock.  Not yet… that was for later.  I hugged his body against mine, kissing him, diving into his mouth with a hunger.  My hands roamed his sexy body and I could feel my desire hardening.  I leaned back and had him take his shirts off and then pulled his head against my chest. I kept touching him, pulling and stroking the flesh of his back, his arms, the short hairs at the back of his head. I warmed him up with some open-handed slaps, then a few firm strikes with my fists.  My fingernails drew lines from his belt line upward and I could feel him draw a sharp breath in.  I glanced over to where he’d placed the bag, next to one of the chain link fence sections.  There still wasn’t anyone else playing and we were about to change that.

I lifted his handsome face and kissed him. “Are you ready, sweet boy?”

I don’t remember if he said yes or simply nodded, but, yes, he was ready.

I cuffed him and clipped him to the fence, bending him over so he’d be accessible to all my attentions.  Mmmmm and I definitely wanted to pour my attention all over him.

I pressed up against his ass, so he could feel how excited I was, and reached around to unfasten his pants, pushing everything down to his ankles.  I figured hobbling my tough boy would be a good idea.  Now the gorgeous blank canvas of his skin was exposed to me and the room.  I want to tell you right now that I have no doubt I was the luckiest Sir in the room with this gorgeous boy giving himself to me.

I used my hands first, spanking his sexy butt into a rosy blush and moving up his back to his shoulders.  He cried out and squirmed, fingers gripping the fence as he worked hard to hold his position.  ”Good boy” I murmured, rubbing it all in.  After another couple of rounds of spankings, I pulled out my belt.  I’d been thinking about my belt against his skin a lot in the weeks leading up to this moment.

He took a lot from that belt, gasping and crying out, wincing as I rubbed it in.  I loved every moment of it, the heft of the metal studded leather in my hand, the way his skin pinked up and then reddened.  I loved that zap of energy that sang up the length of my belt when I connected with his body.  He was cursing at me and shuffling around.  At one point he snapped at me, “That’s enough on the right side, already!”  Maybe that’s when I was paddling him.

I picked up a drumstick – solid oak – and peppered legs and ass with strikes from both end.  Thicker than a cane, but more focused than a paddle, I didn’t want to over use it… that would be another time.  I’d brought both my skinny Slut paddle and his wider heavier one.  That heavy paddle really made him breath hard and get mad.  I liked that a lot.  I tormented him a bit more and got up close to check in.  He was breathing hard and growling  bit, a wild barely tamed light in his eye.  I don’t remember how he phrased it, but he was ready to get fucked.  I stroked the back of his leg up to to his glowing ass and he growled at me again.  I could have teased him more, but I was pretty damned horny, too.

I pulled him upright, kissed his mouth hard and pulled out my cock. I looked into his eyes – defiant, hungry, desperate with need.  Looking down at my erection, I pressed lightly on his shoulders.

“Suck my cock, boy, get it nice and hard and ready for your ass.”

Eyes flashing, he knelt down and gave me a wet and passionate blowjob.  Those beautiful blue eyes, looking up at me. So much love, so much hunger, so much need.  I pulled him toward me and he gagged and kept going.  He was losing himself to my cock.  I was getting lost in it too, but this wasn’t the end piece of our set.  Pulling back gently, I looked down into those eyes and gave him a smile.  ”Time for your ass, boy.  Stand up so I can fuck that gorgeous, sweet ass of yours.”

He stood and turned around, holding onto the chain link.  It was all I could do not to swoon at the sight of his reddened cheeks and wet sex, peeking at me between his thighs.  Fucking hot sexy boy, and all mine.  I put on a condom and pulled a black nitrile glove out of my back pocket.  Lubing my fingers first, I stroked his pucker, grinning when the cold slippery stuff made him gasp.  He was so ready for this, we’d been talking about it all week and I knew getting his ass fucked hard after we played was not just a desire, but a necessity.  I worked on opening him up with my fingers, but we were both impatient.

“Fuck me, please!” he hissed urgently.

I reached for the lube again and stroked it onto my cock.  ”You need my cock, boy?  Need to get your ass fucked?”

Not that I needed to ask the question, but I love talking dirty, and I wanted to hear the words, hear him beg me for it, just a little.  ”Yes!  Please fuck me, please…”

I pressed my cock head against him and popped in quickly, grinning as he hissed and fell forward against the fencing.  I started out slow, enjoying the visual of my cock disappearing into him.  Fucking him feels so good, the rest of the room fell away again, as it had when I’d been hitting him.  The only thing in the universe was this beautiful boy pressing his ass back against my hips and the feeling of connection between us.  My strokes got faster and harder, with him encouraging me all the while.  I don’t know how many times he came, shouting out in pleasure, quivering on my cock. I kept a good grip on his hipbones, holding him up when his knees threatened to buckle.  I know I came a couple of times, spending myself inside him, his heat meeting my need.

His legs were shaking by the time I pulled out of him.  He collapsed to the ground and I got him his shirt.  He let me know he needed some time and I busied myself with clean up.

He gathered himself as I gathered our things.  Other people had begun playing while we were at it and we sat down together to watch.  He sat on the floor next to me, quietly observing.  I was observing, too, both the scene in front of us and him.  I stroked his head and shoulders.  I felt peaceful and happy.  I also felt distinctly honored to have played with him – this beautiful, handsome, strong, passionate individual whom I love and desire so much.  His submission is always a cherished gift, never something I take for granted.  I wanted to take care of him, showing him how much I loved him.  I did all the things I remember my Sir doing for me after play – got food and water, told him how proud I was of him, kissed and held him.

Later we explored a little further and found the fucking spaces in the back (new since I was there last).  He wanted to fuck me and I was more than willing, letting him boss me around a bit until I was hands and knees on the bed and he was fucking me hard… and damn, can that boy fuck.  Soon after, we were gathering our things and heading out.  We were both hungry and ended up at the Belltown Pub near our hotel for food and beverage before retiring to bed for more awesome sex.

Mal, you are a hot, strong, sexy beast and topping you is a huge thrill.  Thank you, my love.  I am the luckiest guy/Sir/boyfriend in the ‘verse. Really looking forward to our next play date.


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I Feel Powerful

I feel powerful

Mmmm and I am purring at your powerful sexy wildness


Grrrrrrrrr. Aahhrrooooo!!
I feel you.
Your scent on the wind

The moon, cool air



Natural urges lead me to you

I smell you

Wild needs sated inside you

Not if i get to you first
My jaw, teeth, on your neck
Holding you down while i fuck you

We get each other

Fill me up

With all the power i have

Meet your need

Inside me

Make me your bitch

Breed me

Feel me
Feel my strength
Feel my power


All of it. In me. For me.

Only you are strong enough for all of me

I am

I give my strength to you

Take what you need

I don’t need your strength for myself

I need you to have it so i don’t burn you from the inside out

I’ve got it

bring your wildness,

your feral need,

your wanton strength,

your burning desire

I am the vessel to contain all of you

Yes yes yes yes

fill me with your fire, lover

let me feel your heat,

your teeth,

your nails

let me feel the passionate life that fills you

thrash around inside me,

I will hold you

A sexy interlude in the work day… brought to you by Kyle and Switchy Witchy Woman.

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Butchtastic Social Media Update

In case you weren’t aware of Butchtastic’s social media presence, here’s a run down:

If you want to connect to me through Facebook, I have a personal blog page.  If you ‘Like’ my page, not only will I appreciate it, you’ll get notified when I post new entries here.

I have recently started a new tumblr, The Real Butchtastic.  Blog posts will be posted to my tumblr and I will also share other tumblr posts that turn me on in some way.  Additionally, I share Gay Like This with Roxy – though we haven’t updated it in quite some time, there are a lot of sexy pics there.

I still have a twitter account, ButchtasticKyle.  I don’t spend as much time there as I did, seven years ago.  But I stop in occasionally and this blog posts links there as well.

As always, I welcome respectful questions sent by anyone who is truly interested in my answer.  Wondering about my sex life?  Who I’m dating?  My family, my job, my hobbies, my transition?  Email me — Kyle at Butchtastic dot net.


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The Way She Sees Me

My new love, the one who seems most able to make love stay in a way that makes my heart sing and thump and shake it’s rump… she sees me.  This morning I sent her a picture of my morning face.  She said something about the bear fuzziness showing, and then realized it was shadow… at least to the biological eye.  To her true eye, it was foreshadowing… this is what she told me next:


I can see the hair, like an aura. The new hairs give off energy as they poke through. So, it’s already there… Just not that long.

I see YOU.

Your becoming and unfolding is…
Privileged that you share with ME
Like a sunrise
Like a sunset
Like crocus poking through the snow
Like bright red maple leaves before they’re all red
Like kittens with newly open eyes
Like children learning to walk, run, bike, drive, live
Like art
I just love you


Thank you, I love you, too… thank you for seeing me and loving me and for all the wonderful ways you show me how you feel, and also, thank you for being you, for owning your truth and being a force of love and truth in the world.

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Returning to the Dungeon

Tomorrow night I will be attending a public play party for the first time in two years.  The last time I went to the Seattle Center for Sex Positive Culture (nee The Wetspot), I was triple topped in a powerful scene that left me crying my eyes out in much needed release.

Between now and then I’ve gone through a dark time of depression, started and ended therapy, started transition, gotten legally married and taken on a new professional role with my company.  I’ve had four new lovers and broken up with three of them.

I am about to go pack a bag for adventure.  Tomorrow my boyfriend, Mal, will be coming up from Portland and we will go up to Seattle together.  We’ve got a hotel room and a pretty good plan for the evening.  We’ll be going to Blood, Sweat and Queers.  It’s the first time for Mal, the first time in two years for me.  Also, I will be topping publicly for the first time.  Mal will be there as my boy and I could not be prouder or more excited.

We have talked about what we want to do and how we want to do it.  We have our outline, our expectations, our hopes.  We have a lot of ideas.  We’re both excited and nervous, each wanting to please the other.

We might do everything we’ve planned for.  We may do none if it and write a completely new script by the time we get there.  No matter what, I know that we’ll enjoy each other and our new adventure will be a success.  This is a new beginning for both of us.

And damn, it’s gonna be hot.

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Like a Clear Blue Sky

About a month ago, one of my poems was published in the Elephant Journal

I want my love to be like a clear blue sky

with perfect conditions for flying

I want my life to be an excellent launch pad

a firm foundation of love and support

I want my loves to cheer me on as I take flight

watch as I soar and glide

And receive me with open arms full of love

when I land


And I will do the same for them

let my heart be your firm foundation

When you want to fly

know that I am cheering you on

I am watching your beautiful flight

and waiting to receive you

With open arms full of love

and a heart that will always be your landing place

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Trans* Folks, Where do You Get Your Fashion Cues From?

While talking to my boyfriend, Mal, the other day, we got on the topic of masculine fashion and our personal styles.  I feel like my style borrows somewhat from my high school days, but also from my take on working class casual.  I like t-shirts under plaid button-downs (long and short sleeve, depending on the weather).  I wear button fly Levis and favor tennis shoes or boots.  Socially, I hang around guys who are 30s-40s more than guys my age, and I know some of them have influenced my fashion tastes.

For example, I know for certain I won’t be wearing a fedora or trilby any time soon.  And sometimes I find myself lost in a sea of short sleeved plaid shirted guys when I’m out and about.

I’m curious what other trans* and gender non-conforming people have to say on the topic.  As you began to dress according to your true gender, where did you look for fashion advice?  Can you link your current style to a family member, or influential friend or maybe a celebrity?  Or maybe you’ve carved out your very own fashion niche.

I’d love to hear from you.


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Date Night with My Boyfriend

We were in a saltwater town on the peninsula, holding hands and kissing every chance we got.  Sitting in one of the many pizza joints with a lot of other Seahawks fans watching the game, I looked across the table at my boyfriend, Mal.  I reached out for his hand and had an interesting realization.

I leaned over the table and whispered, “Do you think the folks here see us as two gay guys?”

He said, “Probably not, my voice is a little high.”

I wasn’t so sure, with his sharp new hair cut and the compression top and packy I loaned him, he was looking like a handsome gay boy to me.  And I don’t think that’s all just rose-colored glasses either.

Either way, it gave me some brain food to chew on.  I am used to being seen as a butch dyke with my girlfriend, I am getting accustomed to being seen as a straight dude with his girlfriend.  What I have is zero experience being seen as a gay man with his boyfriend.

I liked it.  I liked it a lot. It gave me giddy happy bubbles in my belly, as a matter of fact.

It also flashed through my mind, as we walked out of the pizza joint and down the sidewalk, that gay men experience a lot of homophobic harassment and violence. Being in a small out-of-the-way town in a largely conservative area meant I *should* be mindful of that danger.  I gave it a thought or two, but it didn’t stop me from slipping my hand onto his arm and letting him lead me down the sidewalk.  And that particular act was meaningful for both of us.  I felt the way his shoulders went back and I felt myself blush.  I had been the ‘arm’ for so many of my dates over the years but had never been on the arm of someone else before.  I felt really cared for and special.  That’s how we make each other feel, cared for and cherished and lusted after and special.

This courtliness lasted a few blocks until I saw a dark alley that needed to be exploited. I pushed him against the wall and we kissed hard.  Our hands were all over each other, my hand between his legs, right where I’d wanted it for a couple of hours already.  I squeezed and stroked his packy and pressed it against his clit, making him gasp.  Then I reached under, to where his jeans were wet with desire.  We paused for a moment as some innocent bystanders went by on the sidewalk.  Giggling we moved further into the alley to where it opened up in a small courtyard.

An empty and fully lighted parking garage beckoned from under the building ahead of us.  Mal led the way and we peeked out at the sidewalk through the iron bars separating us from the street.  I pressed up against his sweet ass, letting him feel my bulge.  He groaned and my hips started working.  I was imagining my cock inside him, and and rubbed out a quick orgasm, muffling my cries against his shoulder.  Damn, he’s hot.  All that kissing and groping had me pretty worked up.

From there we continued our tour of “dark places to have public sex in Port Townsend’, giggling and slapping ass.  Next stop was a dark alcove just off a sidewalk near a Thai restaurant.  I pushed him back against the wall, and reached between his legs again.  That wet spot beckoned.  I pressed my fingers against his front hole, kissing and biting his lips, neck and shoulder. Sliding my hand inside his pants, finding his little cock, my sexy Mal came for me, crying out as quietly as he could, eyes wild, breathing hard.  I kissed him softly and he flipped me around, slamming me against the wall with a thud.  That’s when I realized the restaurant was open and we were easily visible if anyone had bothered to look.

He smiled the wicked smile I’ve grown to love, “Pretty hot, huh?”

I watched over his shoulder as one couple exited the restaurant and went the opposite way down the sidewalk.  His fingers found my hot spot and I came watching the waiter walk through the place, walking in our direction but not looking up to see him grinding against me.

Pretty hot?  Yes, lover, very hot.  Hot that you will stand me up against a wall and make me come, more than once.  Hot that you love being sexy and dangerous as much as I do.  Hot that you are just as willing to fuck me as you are to be fucked.  Seriously, incandescently hot.  Hot in a way that has seared the experience with you into my mind and heart.

Eventually, we continued on our way, holding hands, kissing when we felt the urge, goofing around down by the water.  Being with him brings out a whole different side of me, a boyish side, a playful, excitable, physical side.  I feel in turns aggressive and shy, sometimes within moments.  He is handsome, funny, sexyhot, smart and … well.. he knows just how to turn my crank.  I’ve been interested in being in a relationship with another guy for quite a while, but it just hasn’t worked out until now.  This guy, this handsome sweet, sexy guy, he’s got the stuff I’ve been looking for.  He is the combination of masculine and feminine that fits into the other side of my equation.  His kinks fit my kinks really well.  With him I feel safe to let my faggot side come out to play.  No, not just safe – I feel wanted, desired, craved.  I know I am the man he wants, and he’s the man for me.

It was an amazing weekend.  I am so lucky.  The luckiest.  I have a lot more to say about Mal and that weekend, and more… but that’s another post.

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Aggression, Anger and Topping: Finding the Way Through My Inner Maze

If I visualize my inner landscape as a maze, which isn’t hard to do, I can see my whole life as a journey toward the center of the maze.  What do I expect to find there?  I’m not sure, really, but that doesn’t stop me from working really hard to get there.

I can remember when I first started exploring BDSM, especially D/s, I confused topping with anger and violence and confused subbing with weakness.  I’ve learned a lot and grown a lot since then, on both sides of that dynamic equation.

When I was with Roxy, I mostly subbed to her.  I was her boy, her warrior, her challenge and her joy.  At times we switched, I topped her a few memorable times.  I wanted more of that and so did she, but I kept running up against internal barriers.  At the time, I couldn’t see how to access the aggressive dominant side of me without going through anger and violence.  It seemed to me I needed to step through those doors in order to get to a place where I could strike my lover, to cause pain.  That the pain was being asked for and was informed and consensual wasn’t enough to break down that wall.

Since then, I’ve been topped by others and continued to grow and understand myself better through those experiences.  I have also had more and more opportunities to explore my dominant side.  The first path I took in working through my internal blockage was through Daddy/girl scenarios.  I had willing lovers, I had a way to visualize my dominance that did not depend on violence and anger.  It worked for me, and them.  I could explore my desire to cause consensual pain, mixed it with sex and fetish.  Plus it was hot, really fucking hot.  Being able to meet my lover’s needs and have my needs met feels so good.  And it felt authentic, dominance settled comfortably into my role as Daddy, I didn’t feel that I was playing a role after a while, but rather that I was expressing another side of my self.

Daddy/girl became easier with practice, and my fertile imagination was eager to come up with new scenarios I could share with my lover.  I had gotten through some of the internal blockage keeping me from exploring my dominant side.  I felt like I’d hit my stride.

However, Daddy/girl wasn’t the center of that particular maze, not the endpoint but rather one of the cul-de-sacs I could explore more fully over time.  I have been feeling pulled to explore further, and fortunately, I have found an excellent fellow explorer.  I am currently involved with someone who is firing my D/s imagination along several lines of fetish.  I feel comfortable enough, trust her enough, to submit to her. I love being her boy.  I know I have new ground to gain in my exploration of submission with her.

I also have new territory to explore as a Dom.  Sometimes I am Papa to her boy, a relationship dynamic I have been fantasizing about for quite a while.  I now have a delicious, wonderful, sexy, strong boy who craves physical attention from his Papa.  It is through my boy that I was able to break through another internal barrier last weekend.   She has been asking me to be more physical, to hit her harder, to use my fists and belt and teeth and cock to cause the pain that brings her pleasure.  She’s done her best to provoke me — biting teeth, pinching fingers, punching fists, using her words — but my reaction has been to stifle my anger, to increase the control I have over my emotions as I attempt to control her.  And … let me tell you, she’s not easy to control. She’s strong.  She’s strong enough that it takes all my effort to keep her from flipping me. So why do I hold back hitting her as hard as she wants?  Why can’t I give her the reaction she’s asking for? Am I holding back out because of sexism, don’t I think she can take it as well as I can?  These are the questions I’ve been chasing around my head and I would not be surprised if she has been as well.

This past weekend, she eventually found a way to get me to hit her, or rather he did.  Sitting in her car after spending most of the weekend together, we kissed hard, not wanting to let go. I reached between her legs to stoke her fire.  Then my boy asked me to get rough with him, “Papa, don’t you think I’m tough enough?”  To say his words lit my fire is an understatement.

I pulled back and hit him in the chest, he gasped and I could see the heat in his eyes.  My boy, yes, he is tough.  I hit him again on the other side.  The world outside the car fell away, it was just the two of us, Papa and his handsome, sexy boy.

“Show me how strong and tough you are boy… I want you to beat off while I hit you.” My voice was a dark, husky whisper.  My cock was so hard for him.  Loosening his belt and fly, watching his hand slide between his legs… his moan was almost enough to make me come.

I hit him over and over.  Chest, shoulders, arms, inner thighs.  All the while he stroked his slick little cock, face growing flushed, eyes at half mast.  I looked intently at his face.

“Do you want to come, boy?”

He moaned and nodded his head frantically, “Please, Papa, please…”

I started pounding him again, “Yes, boy, yes, come for your Papa.  Come for me, my good boy!”

Afterward, I kissed his sweet face, tasted the come on his fingers.  ”Good boy” I purred, “My good, sweet boy, such a good strong boy for Papa.  I love you so much, my sweet strong boy.”

He positively glowed.  I was proud of him, and proud of myself.  I’d gotten through another barrier, with his help.

I held her and kissed her and didn’t want to let go. My home was beckoning, and my life and responsibilities.  I knew I had to go, we both had to go, but neither of us wanted to let go of that moment.

“You know, your girl is tough, too.”  She said quietly, “I’m strong enough to take all of that and more.  He has the same body I do, we can both take everything you give us.”

I know she’s strong, I know this is what we both want — to have the full range of our desires available within the beautiful, fiery amazing love we are building together.  I told her that she had done the right thing, going to Papa this time.  She had accessed that part of me in a way I could relate to and be enthusiastic about and which sidestepped the issues I have about using anger and violence to top.  She would love to see me to be less controlled, she wants me to react, to hit her in reaction to what she’s doing to provoke me, but I don’t know that I can do it as an anger reaction.  Even with her asking me to.

And why is that?  What is that barrier about?  Well, first, I don’t know that I want to get to a point where losing control is the way I top.  But I do want to make use of my power, my strength in a way that my lover finds sexy and which serves both of our kinks.  I can do that without losing control, the Papa/boy scene in the car gave me some insight into a path I can take to make that happen.

In examining my internal barrier and my need to control violent aggressive impulses, I followed another familiar path.  The one that leads back to my childhood and examples of violence and aggression that I did not want to emulate.  My mom didn’t manage her anger well, neither did my brother.  My dad, in contrast, got more calm in a crisis, quieter, more patient.  I’ve always been a lot like my dad and he’s been my role model in a lot of things.  And that childhood experience in different ways to deal with anger is the foundation of the way I deal with it now.  I am very afraid of the potential for hurting people non-consensually out of anger.  So I clamp down on it, I breathe through it, walk it off, talk it off until I can speak and act calmly.

And that is why when she was biting the back of my arm, and pinching me until I howled, I got more controlled rather than less.  This is how I’ve dealt with flares of anger since I was a kid.  There’s a story about anger and violence I’ve been telling myself since I was very young and that story has a lot of power over me.  Not a bad thing, my pattern for dealing with anger, it’s certainly kept me out of trouble over the years, however, now I find myself wanting to tell a new story in some circumstances.

I think another obstacle that I need to overcome is rooted in sexism, sadly.  I think I’ve  internalized the message that I wasn’t to hit girls, that I was to hold back from delivering the full measure of my strength when playing with girls and women.  Which is interesting considering that on the soccer field or the basketball court, I had no such self-enforced limitations.  Maybe I need to see my D/s partners as fellow athletes, maybe that is something I can use to turn my attitude around.  So apparently the script I’ve been following splits physical activities into sexual and non-sexual.  When engaging in non-sexual activities, I am ‘allowed’ the full expression of my strength and competitiveness, but sex is another category.  I know I’m rambling a bit here, but let me finish this train of thought.  What is it about sex that causes me to hold back my strength?  Is it my old way of connecting sex with romanticism?  Can’t hit someone I’m in love with?  Can’t be aggressive and dominate my romantic partner?  Hmmm…much to crunch on.

What I do know is she and I will continue to explore our edges together, and so will he and I.  There are so many fabulous ways for us to connect, the possibilities are nearly infinite.




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