Sleepless

Sometimes I’m too tired to sleep. For two weeks now I have a very light sleep and find it difficult to relax. When I lay there in the dark and listen to John’s breathing, thoughts and memories come up. I think about the time we met, back in May 2011. I was so insecure about him although my feelings for him were quite clear from the beginning. I think about Julian with whom I was together when I lived on the street. We had only little, but I was happy. I had just escaped my father and Julian never asked me about him. So did John. They just accepted that something had happened to me. John was the first partner I talked to about it that openly. I needed time to build up trust.

I wonder how I would be today if my father had not taken his own life and I still lived on the street. Would I still drink alcohol, sell my body for money? When my brother found me on the street and said our father was dead, it felt like falling into a bottomless black hole. I did not know what that was supposed to mean. The only life I knew was under his threat. It was like I was allowed to breathe freely for the first time in my life, but I was afraid of that freedom. When my brother asked me to come with him, I was doubtful. I was too anxious to trust him, too anxious to accept his help. When he bought me new clothes and had me have my hair cut, it felt like slipping into a new skin. Being someone I had never been before and I did not know. I remember his looks. Kind of sad, disappointed and compassionate. Later he admitted he often asked himself how I would be if our father had not done what he did. We both did not know how damaged I really was.

I remember sleeping in his guestroom, resting on the soft bed and then settling over to the floor. When they found me, they got sad, and so I tried to sleep in the bed. I thought it would swallow me. It was not long until I went to the mental hospital.

Eine Reise

W und ich machen sehr viel zusammen in letzter Zeit. Wir machen zusammen Puja oder wir machen spirituelle Reisen (man reist nicht wirklich weg, man liegt auf dem Boden und reist in Gedanken). Wir opfern auch gemeinsam. Jesus und Lord Shiva mögen beide Reis, aber sonst sind sie eher ganz anders. W sagt, Jesus ist wie Buddha ein Erleuchteter, und er hat sich von der rohen männlichen Energie abgewandt. Er hat ja gesagt, man soll noch die andere Wange hinhalten, und ich glaube, das würde Lord Shiva eher nicht tun.

Gestern Abend hat W mich besucht. Wir haben erst alle zusammen gegessen und dann ist John ins Kino gegangen und W und ich haben Puja gemacht. Ich hatte nachmittags Kugeln aus Reismehl, Mandeln, Rosenwasser und Zucker gemacht, die wir geopfert haben. Wir haben geräuchert mit Ws Mischungen und W hat auf seiner kleinen Trommel gespielt. Ich bin dabei gereist. Ich möchte davon schreiben.

Ich habe einen Ort gefunden, wo ich mich wohl fühle. Es ist ein Ufer an einem schnell fließenden Fluss. Da sind große Steine, wo man sitzen kann, aber auch Bäume und eine Höhle, die etwas versteckt ist. Ich gehe in Gedanken an diesen Ort und wenn ich reisen will, gehe ich vielleicht in die Höhle rein oder ich schwimme in dem Strom. Gestern bin ich in die Höhle gegangen. Es ist immer anders. Ich ging einen langen Gang entlang, die Wände waren warm und es roch nach Erde. Irgendwann kam ich auf ein Feuer zu. Daran sass Lord Shiva. Er hat mich aufgefordert, mich zu ihm zu setzen und in das Feuer zu sehen. Ich weiß, dass auch ein Tier da war. In letzter Zeit weiß ich immer, dass ein Tier da ist, aber ich kann es nicht richtig ansehen. Manchmal sieht es aus wie eine Großkatze, manchmal wie ein Hund oder ein Wolf und manchmal wie alles gemischt. Als ich in das Feuer sah, habe ich darin Formen gesehen, die sich veränderten und dann zu einer Art Puppenaufführung wurden. Sie haben etwas nachgespielt, das ich erlebt habe. Es hat mich sehr aufgewühlt und ich habe gezittert. Ich habe Lord Shiva gefragt, warum er mir das zeigt, und er hat gesagt, damit ich aufhöre, mich zu fürchten. Ich habe ihn gefragt, ob er mir sagen kann, wie ich das schaffen soll, und er hat nur gesagt, ich soll weiter zusehen.

Es war eine Szene mit meinem Vater. Er hatte so unberechenbare Wutanfälle. Manchmal sass ich nur da und habe nichts gemacht und es hat ihn schon provoziert, so dass er mich geschlagen hat. Er hat mir oft auf den Kopf geschlagen und die Flammen spielten das nach. Immer, wenn ich daran denke, fühle ich mich behindert und dumm. Vielleicht hat er damit etwas kaputt gemacht in meinem Kopf. Ich weiß, dass ich nicht so funktioniere wie andere. Es ist ironisch, aber wenn ich Englisch rede, dann fällt es nicht so auf. Wenn ich deutsch rede, dann komme ich mir unbeholfen vor und die Worte fallen durch mich durch wie in einem Sieb. Ich habe versucht, für Lord Shiva Gedichte zu schreiben und auf Deutsch fällt es mir schwer. Auf Englisch geht es leichter, dabei ist das nicht meine Muttersprache. Es fühlt sich natürlicher an. Die Flammen haben gezeigt, dass ich den Arm hebe und den Schlag abwehre. Ich habe das ja versucht, habe ich gesagt, aber es ging nicht. Es spielt keine Rolle, sagte Lord Shiva, ob das früher ging, weil es geht heute. Er hat getan, was er gemacht hat, aber Du kannst Dich dagegen entscheiden, dass Du weiter derjenige bist, auf dem er rumprügelt.

W und ich haben schon öfter solche Sachen angereist, die früher passiert sind. Ich habe dabei oft einen Superheldenanzug angehabt. Gestern nicht. Es war auch anders, weil es wie eine Vorstellung war und nichts, woran ich teilnahm. Ich glaube, es soll mir sagen, dass Opfersein eine Haltung ist, die von innen kommt. Man ist zwar in dem Moment das Opfer, wo man Schläge kassiert, aber man kann sich später dagegen entscheiden, sich immer weiter als Opfer zu sehen. Lord Shiva hat mich schon oft aufgefordert, nicht mehr das Opfer zu sein, sondern Stärke zu entwickeln. Oder nein, meine Stärke, die ich schon habe, zu entdecken und anzunehmen.

Später sass ich an dem Fluss und schaute in das Wasser. Es war ganz friedlich. Als ich wieder zurück war, haben W und ich darüber geredet und Reiskugeln gegessen und geopfert als Dank. Für mich ist es immer noch schwer, zu akzeptieren, dass es diese Reisen gibt und dass Lord Shiva da wirklich mit mir spricht. Ich hoffe, ich bin nicht verrückt :) W sagt, es ist ganz normal, auf diese Art mit Göttern zu reden, und Jesus und Shango (und andere) reden auch mit ihm, manchmal sogar auf der Arbeit.

W ist jetzt ein paar Wochen mit M zusammen und es freut mich für sie. M ist sehr nett. Er ist Koch!

L’s Visit

The past five days were pure bliss. L was visiting us and Love had taken these days off, so that we had a maximum of time together. We went walking in a park, we were visiting a museum, we went out for dinner as well as cooked together, we watched movies and talked, talked, talked. L is such a funny and kind man, I really feel drawn to him, and still I do not feel jealous at all. Originally I had planned to spend the last evening L would spend with us on my own, visiting S and C, but L asked me to stay, so I did. It’s hard to find words for what’s going on, but perhaps it’s best to say only that much: it’s beautiful and I hazard a guess that it could be more than just an affair. I don’t want to push it too far and I know it will need time, but I could think of the three of us staying together for a long while. L is not into BDSM, but I think he likes the fact that we are. Everything just stayed relaxed and easy, and our time together was gorgeous.

I don’t want to think too much about it. I really enjoy it, and I like to see John that happy.

Lovemarks And Spiritual Aspects Of BDSM

I just love to see the lovemarks Master leaves on my skin. Freaks me totally out, even days later :-) I have been thinking about the spiritual aspects of BDSM. I’m not so sure whether I’ll be able to get to the point, but I’ll give it a go.

Although I have made spiritual experiences during sessions, I would not have called it that way until I found out about ritualized pain. There are many religions who accept ritualized pain as a service for the God or the Gods. Christianity and Hinduism are the first to pop up in my mind when thinking about it. Jesus Christ on the cross, wounded and with a crown of thorns is reenacted by believers, who even torture themselves with strokes on their backs like the medieval flaggellanti. In hinduism, there are streams in which people put hooks through their cheeks, tongues, backs and so on to experience severe pain. Some consider this pain as a gift for the Gods, some say their God makes them resistent to pain, which they want to prove by injuring themselves.

Every pain means stress to the body and the mind. The body reacts to pain by producing pain-recuding subtances (I don’t know what they are called) so that one gets a bit high. At least, that’s what I feel like when pain is inflicted on me. The more pain, the higher I get. But, to be honest, the pain I experience during sessions is totally different from the pain I experience when cutting me accidentally LOL I guess that’s because during sessions I’m in an altered state of mind due to the setting. When playing, I’m in an inferior role like the misbehaved boy or son. John and I like to extend these roles into our everyday life, but I guess there’s still a big difference in our behaviour and understanding of our roles when playing and when being in our everday routine. For example, I really like being slapped in the face when playing, but it would hurt my feelings if John did that to me when we were not playing. We have managed to communicate by looks so that we know if the other would like to join in a game or not. For others the borders between our “normal” relationship and playing are very diffuse, I guess.

I have agreed to expand the limits of our relationship, so that John may have sex with others and can decide for me whether I’m allowed to have sex or not. I have even agreed to the fact that he can lend me to others who may use me (as far as they stick to the rules). These things cause mental pain. I have not been able to find out why I like this sort of pain. Perhaps because it also expands the limits, or perhaps because of what my father did to me. His “games” were not only physical.

When getting spanked, I feel I’m not in charge. I’m all helpless. I give in to my Master. When we started our BDSM-relationship, we had talked it over that he’d like to hit me and that I usually like to get hit. But I said that I’m afraid to try it, because I feared I might lose myself. Sometimes things trigger and then I’m with my father again, which is quite a kink-killer LOL In one of our first sessions I felt I could not go on and I asked him to stop without using our safe-word. When you ask your Master to stop without using that word, he will not stop, but I had just forgotten about the word. So he went on caning me and demanded discipline from me, while I thought I could not take it. But then it changed. I found out that I had just passed a barrier and that John’s authority would carry me anywhere from there. It was the first time I experienced that a strong and stable Master can help you emerge and rise above yourself and take much, much more than you ever thought you could. But although we’re together now for so long, I’m still not able to understand why he feels comfortable with all the responsibility lasting on his shoulders (job, me and so on). I wouldn’t be able to bear it, but he is and he likes it. Love can’t endure helplessness and being passive and I can’t bear being in charge and offensive.

At some point of the game, when things get really painful and annoying, it feels like I can leave my thoughts and doubts behind. There is only Master. His voice carries me through anything. His will becomes my will. I’m obedient and stop thinking. I’m at his mercy. Well, I guess that’s what believers experience in their relationship with God. You are minor, He is superior. But although he could just break or kill you, he carries you on his wings of love through it all, until you experience your own strength and worth and feel only thankful and full of love. He could do the worst thing to you, but he decides to do you only good, even though it hurts. Would it be good, if it did not hurt? Well, not for me. I need this pain, I need to be disciplined and put where I belong.

http://master-brian.tumblr.com/post/63865068564

 

Three For Joy

Last weekend, John and I went to Switzerland. He had presented me with that trip for my birthday and I was very nervous, because we were flying there und would meet L, John’s childhood sweetheart. I felt a bit weak when we entered the plane, but Love held my hand firmly and it turned out that flying is not so bad, except for ear pain. When we arrived, we took a taxi to the hotel, checked in and had a walk across town. I really like Switzerland, everyone is very polite and helpful. We had tea in a small café and it was then I uttered I was a bit anxious to meet L. Not because of L as a person, but because he is a very stable and responsible man, too. Many people depend on him, just like on John, and I tend to feel a bit poor considering that. It’s like the “salad-boy” in jeans meets two businessman in suits. It always makes me feel insufficient. John and I are O.K. with it, but I know people tend to look at us and judge our relationship like “it’s only phyical and as soon as John is satisfied, he’ll drop that salad-boy”.

However, Love and I went back to the hotel, changed and then it was time to meet L. He had suggested to meet in a nice restaurant where they offer vegetarian dishes as well, because he knows I’m a vegetarian. How sweet is that? :-) Our first hour together was a bit formal, but L is very nice and funny, too, so that I opened up the more the longer we sat there and talked. From the very beginning it was clear that L still fancies John, and I could tell by the look in John’s eyes and his beaming face that he fancies L, too. It was a bit strange witnessing these two guys flirting while trying not to flirt LOL

At 10, John voted for us to move to the bar in our hotel, and so we did. I do not drink alcohol because I don’t agree with it, but they both had some drinks. They talked about old memories from school and I could see them getting sad. After a while, they were silent and John smiled faintly. It was that moment, when I felt completely pity for them. You never know how it would have ended, but I thought if they had not been separated, they might still be together, and I may have never met John anyway. And I was totally aware of the fact that these two still crave each other. I thought perhaps it would make it easier if they just gave in. It took all my courage to say it, but I did. When the words were out, John and L said nothing, just looked at me, looked at each other and still did not reply. “What?” I asked. “Uhm, well, I have asked myself whether you two would just let me…watch?”, L said. John and I changed looks, John smiled slightly, so I nodded. I wanted to know why L did not want to take part, but he did not reply properly. We finished our drinks. L said he’d pay, so that John and I could already return to our room and he would follow. We agreed. In the lift I asked John what he thought why L would not join us. He told me, he thinks L thinks he’s too fat and old and unattractive to meet with other guys, which is why he still lives alone. Ugh, that made me sad, especially because he’s such a kind man. We did not talk anymore, but I felt like we had come to a silent agreement.

When L followed some minutes later, he settled into an armchair near the bed. John and I were still standing, when we began kissing. I was nervous. It’s not the same in front of someone so dear to your husband. John started opening my shirt and I took his off. I could hear L swallow when he say John naked. Love smiled at me and I knew what to do. I went to L, knelt down before him and began stroking his shaking hands, then softly kissed him, while John stayed where he was. “Come”, I told him, got up and took him by the hand. I led him to John. They just stood there for eternity, looking into each other’s eyes, and I thought it was like they were asking each other for excuse. Finally, they smiled and John kissed him.

I watched them from the armchair and did not intervene. It was totally different from anything else John and I had done in the past years, and I guess that’s because they feel for each other. They literally made love, but it did not make me feel jealous or uncomfortable. It was peaceful and quiet and beautiful and I was glad they shared this moment of their lives with me. Later, they invited me, and I thankfully came over.

L just stayed with us the next two days. We spent the whole time together and I tried to back off a bit. They were holding hands and kissing and cuddling, but I did not feel excluded. It was more like our relationship was expanded by L, and he and I held hands and kissed, too. It was weird, but I liked it. I liked them that happy and I liked it when they told each other “I love you”. I don’t know what that means or where it may lead us, but it feels right. I would have thought I might feel like losing John, but instead I feel like gaining a new perspective and well, love.L will be with us for some days during september and I can’t wait to meet him again. I know, Love can’t.

Anonym

Gestern Abend haben John und ich A und M getroffen. Wir waren in einer Bar und haben geredet. Etwas von uns entfernt saßen zwei Männer und John hat mitbekommen, dass ich einen immer wieder angesehen habe. Er trug einen hellgrauen Anzug, dazu ein weißes Hemd, eine violette Krawatte und Manschettenknöpfe. Eigentlich war er nicht mein Typ, aber ich stehe auf Männer in Anzügen oder Uniformen. Als A und M sich verabschiedet hatten, sind John und ich noch geblieben und er hat noch etwas zu trinken für uns bestellt. Er sagte, dass er sieht, dass ich den Mann immer wieder ansehe, und ob er mir gefällt. Ich habe ja gesagt. Manche Schwule behaupten, dass sie es anderen ansehen können, ob sie auch schwul sind, aber ich kann das nicht. Es ist darum einfacher, wenn man an Orten verkehrt, wo man weiß, dass die anderen auch alle schwul sind wie eine Gaysauna. John hat den Mann gemustert und gesagt, er wäre einem Blowjob nicht abgeneigt. Ich habe gelacht und gesagt, dass er spinnt, aber er hat darauf bestanden. Ich sagte nochmal, dass er das nicht wissen kann, aber er sagte nur “Go and find out”. Ich wusste, dass er es ernst meint, aber ich wusste nicht, was ich machen soll. Ich mag es nicht gern, wenn ich nicht weiß, wie der andere auf mich reagieren wird, weil es ja auch Männer gibt, die sich angegriffen fühlen, wenn ein Mann sie anspricht. Wir sassen noch eine Zeit da und dann ging der Mann auf die Toilette und sein Begleiter blieb sitzen. “Jetzt!” sagte John und gab mir einen Klaps. Es hat sich angefühlt wie in einem Traum und ich habe etwas dissoziiert, aber ich bin auch auf die Toilette gegangen. Der Mann stand am Pissoir, ich habe mich neben ihn gestellt. Ich bin nicht gut, andere anzusprechen, aber aus der Zeit auf der Strasse kann ich Augenkontakt. Es geht immer sehr schnell, wenn der andere will, oder es geht gar nicht. Gestern ging es sehr schnell. Wir sind in eine der Kabinen gegangen. Er sagte, er hat nicht viel Zeit, und ich gab ihm das Gummi, das ich immer in der Geldbörse habe. Ich habe gedacht, dass es mir nicht gut tut, wenn ich das mache, aber es war wie Auto fahren. Ich habe das nicht verlernt und ich fand es geil. Als er gekommen war, gingen wir aus der Kabine, er wusch sich die Hände und ging raus. Genau da kam John rein. Er grinste mich an und fragte, ob es geschmeckt hat. Ich musste lachen. Wir hatten Sex in der Kabine und ich habe mich gut und berauscht gefühlt. Auf dem Weg nach Hause habe ich ihn gefragt, ob er den Mann kannte und ob es abgesprochen war, aber er kannte ihn nicht.

http://handsomesuiteddaddies.tumblr.com/image/83706604002 (Love, seems like they’ve got you on tumblr LOL)

http://fergalgoconnor.tumblr.com/post/36416425687/goethe

Another Way Of Eating

Because it all went a little bit too well with my new diet, Love decided to add on to it to make it more annoying for me. Yesterday I had prepared some pasta with olive oil, garlic and parsley and a salad for dinner and John brought a fresh bread with him, when he came home from work. All seemed to be quite normal, but when he sat down, Love took away the cutlery. I looked at him and he softly said “fold your hands behind your back, then you may eat”. I was like “what?”, but he only smiled. “I need a fork, I dunno….”. He kept smiling. “Look, either you’ll eat your dinner that way or, if you choose to deny it, I’ll have to stuff you later on. Your decision”. He began to eat.

Stuff me? Sure, we had talked about it. There’s a stuffing-fetish I had never heared about before, but two weeks ago I came upon a tumblr site run by a guy who likes to stuff himself, but is looking for someone to do it. Stuffing consists of feeding your “feedee” with food that’s high in volume such as bread oder mashed potatoes, but it also can constist of food that’s high in calories so that the feedee is forced to gain weight. It made me horny in a strange way, but I had thought I had managed to keep my thoughts to myself, but of course John had looked that through. It’s one of the worst things I can imagine, but yet one of the kinkiest. I don’t know if I want it. I fear it.

So I lowered my head over the bowl and began to eat. My hair fell forward, but when I wanted to grab it, John reminded me to fold my hands behind my back. “But my hair?”. “Guess it’ll get dirty”, he smiled. “Just try not to eat it instead”. Uhm, ok. It was gross. I really tried to eat that way I would not smear myself, but it didn’t work well. The pasta was quite easy to eat, when I reached for it with my tongue, but Love insisted I eat the salad and the bread, too. I had it all over my mouth, my nose and chin and was not allowed to wipe me clean. It was that moment when Master prohibited me to clean myself that I became aware of my horniness. I don’t know why but it turned me on not being allowed to eat properly. Guess it might be because of my father.

John examined my dish and told me to lick it clean. I did and felt even hornier. He smiled. “You liked it, huh?”. I nodded and he smiled. “Guess what? We’re having dessert!”. He put a slice of mango in another wide bowl which perfectly adhered to the bottom and covered it with almond milk and soy whipped cream. There was no chance eating it without ruining the rest of my face. The milk came up my nose, it splattered my chin and wet my shirt. Love came to my side and began rubbing my cock through the trousers while I had my face in the bowl. It was odd, but I was so aroused I came instantly. It was very intense. I was surprised how much I enjoyed it.

When I finished dessert, John told me to take off my boxers and had me lick them “clean”, which actually means I replaced sperm by milk. Again I got a hard-on. I was completely helpless and did not know why it turned me on that much. Love whispered to me while he fucked me hard and I was out of myself. I had always hated to be called animal names, but yesterday it totally freaked me out when he said I’m a pig. But moreover he advised me to eat all my meals for the next three days that way. And I am allowed to masturbate afterwards. Ugh.

I really don’t know what’s happening, but I have not been that aroused for a very long time, which is quite a surprise because I get easily turned on. Ugh.