Andere Bewusstseinszustände

Lord Shiva raucht Gras, weil es ihm hilft, zu meditieren, und seine Anhänger in Indien machen das auch. Ich habe früher auch mal Gras geraucht und andere Drogen probiert, aber ich habe das immer nur ganz kurz gemacht und bin nicht süchtig gewesen. Es waren nur Experimente, aber es hat mir meistens nicht gefallen. Bei einem Gespräch sagte W, dass für ihn andere Bewusstseinszustände wichtig sind, weil er wenn er da drin ist, Nachrichten von seinen Göttern bekommt. Er sagt auch, dass Jesus auch einen anderen Bewusstseinszustand kennt und dass man Jesus durch ihn kontaktieren kann, nämlich durch Schmerz.

Ich habe sehr viel darüber nachgedacht. Schmerz ist für mich etwas zweideutig. Ich habe viel Schmerz ertragen müssen, den ich nicht ertragen wollte. Es gab Mittel, mit dem Schmerz klar zu kommen. Ich habe mir oft vorgestellt, dass ich woanders bin oder dass ich wegfliege oder dass jemand anderem das passiert. In Ws Sinne sind das andere Bewusstseinszustände, wo man die normale Bewusstseinsebene verlässt. Ich stelle mir die Bewusstseinsschichten wie einen Kuchen vor. Ich glaube, normalerweise sind wir irgendwo im unteren Drittel. Wenn wir schlafen oder ohnmächtig sind, sind wir darunter, und wenn wir sterben, dann sind wir ganz unten auf dem Boden. Höhere Bewusstseinszustände sind für mich unter anderem ein starkes Gefühl von Glück und Lust und Freude, sexuelle Erregung, Halbtrance und Trance, Meditation und so. Ich stelle mir vor, dass man dabei auf einen höheren Tortenboden kommt und ganz oben ist die Glückseligkeit oder die Verschmelzung mit dem Nirvana. Aber das Nirvana ist etwas, das ich mir nicht gut vorstellen kann. Ich verstehe das Prinzip nicht so richtig.

Ich kann Schmerzen eigentlich gut ertragen, aber es gibt viele Schmerzen, die ich nicht mehr ertragen will. Ich fühle mich beim Zahnarzt immer ausgeliefert und wenn er etwas macht, tut es mir so weh, dass ich dann wieder wegdrifte und stark unter Stress stehe. Was John tut, ist freiwilliger Schmerz für mich, den ich genießen kann. Ich weiß, dass ich diesen Schmerz mag, weil ich früher bei den Sachen, die mein Vater gemacht hat, weggedriftet bin. Was er gemacht hat, habe ich auch mit Lust verbunden, weil das ein Weg war, es zu ertragen. Ich weiß, dass ich heute nicht so sehr auf BDSM stehen würde, wenn das nicht gewesen wäre. Darum ist es auch schwer für mich, John Dad zu nennen. Ich habe versucht, mir einzureden, dass es nicht zusammenhängt, aber das tut es doch. John Dad zu nennen, ist wie giving in to my own freakishness and to my innermost being. Vielleicht hätte ich wieder auf Englisch bloggen sollen.

Wenn John und ich spielen, gelange ich auch in einen anderen Bewusstseinszustand, wo ich die Kontrolle abgebe. Lord Shiva hat einen Sohn, der Murgan oder Murugan heißt. Er wird vor allem im Süden von Indien verehrt und die Anhänger sagen, Lord Murgan macht, dass man keinen Schmerz mehr fühlt. Sie bohren sich Spieße in die Haut und ziehen damit geschmückte Karren, oder sie durchbohren ihre Wangen mit Lanzen oder gehen kilometerweit auf Nagelbrettern. Ich würde das nicht machen und Nadelspiele sind ein Tabu für mich, aber ich kann vielleicht verstehen, warum sie das machen und wie es sich anfühlt, so in Ekstase zu sein, dass man den Schmerz nicht mehr fühlt.

Schmerz und Kontakt zu Gott gehören oft zusammen, bei Lord Murgan und bei Jesus Christus und ich glaube, auch bei anderen Göttern. Ich glaube, dass man auch Schmerz opfern kann, und dass Gott einem hilft, den Schmerz zu ertragen. Und der Schmerz macht auch den Kontakt mit Gott möglich. Vielleicht ist BDSM für mich auch mehr eine spirituelle Sache.

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Budget Offerings

Via Sólveig I came across the question what one could give to a Deity as budget offering and here are my personal favourites:

  • one bite of my meal. Even when I had very little money, I still would eat.
  • findings such as acorns, stones, fir cones and so on.
  • prayers, mantras and chants.
  • fire.
  • tobacco from found fag butts (would need time to collect it, and I think time can be an offering as well).
  • Karma Yoga: doing something for another person without expecting any reward.
  • hair. And shaving, too. I have very long hair and sometimes John asks me to get it cut which indeed is a sacrifice for me. Shaving one’s beard or pubic hair can be an offering as well.
  • remain silent for a certain span of time.
  • fasting. Either eating nothing or abstain from certain foods or drinks. I myself fast alcohol for a few years now and meat and dairy as well.
  • pain. I suppose that’s the BDSM part of an offering 🙂
  • sperm, urine, blood and sweat, though I’d refuse to offer blood. I have injured myself long enough and don’t want to do it as a religious service.
  • chastity.

When I think it over, more and more budget offerings come into my mind. And it seems to me that a lot of things in connection with BDSM serve as an offering for my Dom. I hope this does not offend any religious feelings, but BDSM has a lot to do with spiritual experiences for me.

I Can’t Help It

Seems to me I spent the past days with drinking tea, playing chess, reading, smooching with my Love and sleeping 🙂 I enjoyed the peace and that there haven’t been any deadlines. On dec 24th John and I had been invited to W’s and S and C and some other friends of him were there, too. Everyone brought a little something to eat and we played a nice parlour game. When we returned home, my love presented me with a range of new markers and I also had something for him.

Yesterday afternoon my brother and sister-in-law came over for a visit. John had made fruit cake with icing and we chattered a while. In the evening, we went for dinner in a nice restaurant. I did not know how to behave in front of my brother because I feel ashamed for the things he said to me and when John and I were home again, I uttered that I miss blogging, but that I still didn’t know what to do about it. Sólveig had suggested I may set up a new blog and not tell my brother about it and I have thought about it, but I would miss this blog because of its name and I’m not sure whether I would start to write again if I stopped it here and now. Moreover, I have thought about what my brother said. I fully understand that it feels odd when he’s reading what we do in the bedroom (or elsewhere), because I would not want to know what he and my sister-in-law do as well. But that’s the point. I have not started this blog for him, but for me and for John too, I guess. If he’d blog about what they like, it would be my decision whether I read it or not, but it wouldn’t change the things they like and do anyway. And I sure would not want them to change just because I could feel offended. It’s their affair and I think it’s my and John’s affair what we like and do, either. And part of what we like turns out to be writing / reading about it. All in all I have decided to keep this blog and keep blogging about BDSM, too. It’s a huge part of our lives. When I started this blog I have stated that sometimes I have problems with my affinity to BDSM because sometimes I feel guilty about it, but in the past few months my perception has changed a bit. I still feel guilty for some things, but it was good to write about it as it helps me refocussing.

I am a gay, submissive man and I find things turning on that are deeply connected to what my father did to me. Not everyone will be able to understand or like it, but that’s the way I am. I can’t help it.

Wieder hier

Es tut mir leid, dass ich mich nicht auf die Kommentare gemeldet habe, aber ich brauchte etwas Zeit, um über alles nachzudenken und mit John, W und auch mit meinem Bruder zu reden. Ich bin mit John am Samstag bei meinem Bruder und meiner Schwägerin gewesen, weil sie uns schon länger eingeladen hatten, und es war etwas steif, weil ich nicht wusste, was ich sagen soll. Ich bin nicht so gut im Argumentieren. John hat gesagt, dass er es ok findet, was ich schreibe, und am Samstag hat er sich bei der Frau meines Bruders entschuldigt und dann zu meinem Bruder gesagt “he’s writing about MY cock, not YOURS, and I’m fine with it, so you should be, too”. Ich musste etwas lachen, weil ich es so seltsam fand, das Wort “cock” im Wohnzimmer meines Bruders zu hören, aber ich war der Einzige, die anderen fanden es unpassend. Aber wenn John etwas sagt, das niemand von mir akzeptieren würde, wird er dafür nicht gemaßregelt. Mein Bruder hat gesagt, dass es ihn aufgeregt hat, dass ich geschrieben habe, dass unser Vater mich genommen hat, weil ich blond und schwach bin, und er hat gesagt, er fühlt sich schlecht und auch schuldig, wenn ich sowas schreibe. Aber so war das nicht gemeint. Ich bin einfach nicht so gut darin, mich so auszudrücken, dass es keinen verletzt, aber ich gebe ja nicht meinem Bruder die Schuld. Und er sagt, dass er es nicht gut findet, wenn er weiß, was John und ich im Bett treiben, weil er das nicht wissen will, aber er liest es dann doch wieder und ärgert sich. Ich weiß nicht, was ich dagegen machen soll, außer es nicht mehr schreiben. Ich habe es aufgeschrieben, weil ich mich gerne daran erinnern wollte und weil es für mich wichtig ist, aber ich will auch nicht, dass Menschen sich davor ekeln oder es abstoßend finden. Ich möchte niemanden verletzen. Ich weiß nicht, was ich machen soll.

Gestern habe ich W am Abend gesehen, weil ich doch zu der Feier gegangen bin. John sagte, es wäre gut, wenn ich W sehe, weil er mich auf andere Gedanken bringt. W lebt offen bi und er ist überhaupt sehr offen und nicht so technisch wie ich. Er sagt, er würde an meiner Stelle das schreiben, was er schreiben will, und die anderen interessieren ihn nicht, aber das weiß ich ja auch so 🙂 Er sagt, Homosexualität und BDSM sind lange genug als schmutzig angesehen worden und er findet es gut, dass ich darüber schreibe.

Die Feier war sehr schön, aber ich war sehr aufgeregt. Es waren Leute da, die ich vorher nicht kannte, und es wurde auch gesungen und wir haben ein Feuer gemacht und darum getanzt, aber es fiel mir schwer, das so anzunehmen wie das Ritual für Yemaja. Ich war gedanklich immer noch bei meinem Bruder und es war komisch, fremde Leute an den Händen zu halten. In dieser Woche habe ich viele fremde Leute berührt. Jeder hatte etwas mitgebracht, das er mit Gott in Verbindung bringt. Ich hatte die Gebetskette und die Postkarte dabei, die W mir geschenkt hat, als Lord Shiva für mich wichtig geworden ist. Ich fand es gut, dass Lord Shiva dabei war, weil ich dachte, dass Ihm das Feuer gefallen hätte und das Tanzen und Singen. Ich musste als Kind Klavierspielen lernen und ich war nicht gut darin, weil ich nicht gut den Takt halten kann, und darum bin ich immer unsicher, wenn ich Musik machen oder singen soll. Aber es war schön. Hinterher haben wir gegessen und ich habe mit einer Frau geredet, die mit Ganesha verbunden ist, das ist der elefantenköpfige Sohn von Lord Shiva und Lady Parvati. Er bringt Glück und beschützt die Kaufleute.

Zuhause haben John und ich einen kleinen Weihnachtsbaum aufgestellt und ihn geschmückt. Das war heute. Er hat noch Glasschmuck von seinen Eltern, den sie schon hatten, als er noch ein kleiner Junge war. Wir haben Lametta und Girlanden und die Glassachen in den Baum gehängt und John hat Popcorn und Kakao gemacht und wir haben geredet und so. Es ist unser erstes Weihnachtsfest, wo wir zusammenleben. Es ist schön, hier zu sein.

Ich weiß noch nicht, was ich wegen dem Blog machen soll.

Revised

Ich habe heute Abend meinen Bruder gesehen und er war sehr wütend wegen dem, worüber ich blogge. Er sagt, es geht keinen im Detail etwas an, was unser Vater getan hat, und auch nicht, was ich in den Mund nehme oder mir in den Hintern stecke. Er sagt, es ist ordinär und billig, das zu schreiben. Es tut mir leid, ich wollte nicht ordinär oder billig sein. Es war bloß, was mir wichtig war, aber ich habe auch gesehen, dass keine Kommentare mehr gemacht wurden. Ich werde nicht mehr davon schreiben. Entschuldigung.

I have met my brother this evening and he was very upset because of my blog’s content. He said, it’s nobody’s business what our father did in detail nor what I take in my mouth or what I shove up my butt. He said, it is vulgar and sleazy to write about that. I am sorry, I did not mean to be vulgar and sleazy. It was just what is important to me, but I have noticed that there have been no more comments. I will no longer write about that. I am sorry, please excuse me.

Spiritual

I think there are different types of orgasms. First of all, the quick one for relief only, reached in very few minutes by just going ahead. Not so intense. Then, if you go much slower and take some time, the orgasm intensifies, probably because the mind takes part in this. Physical stimulation and imagination, there you are. Beyond these two types of more or less “normal, everyday” orgasms (not talking about chastity) lies the realm of what I’d call extraordinary and very intense orgasms, most times sparked by interaction with a partner who seems to know you and your body better than you do 🙂 I thought I’d already know the different stages of these superb orgasms, but John proved me wrong yesterday. Of course I experience orgasms more intense in general since I’ve been kept in chastity, but this one almost passed me out LOL

When Master came home from work, we had dinner, and while doing the dishes he placed a butt plug made of glass inside of me. It’s not a huge one, but as it’s made of glass, it’s quite heavy and I can feel it very well, if I move or not. And then, nothing. John just said, he’d like some tea while reading in the livingroom. Later we just sat there, he reading and I trying not to concentrate too much on that plug. I’ve been in so many situations like these with Master pretending not to witness my horniness and trying to keep calm, but still they kick. If I get nervous and move too often, he might look up and say “behave yourself”, so there I am, my mind running wild imagining all the kinky things I’d like to be done to me, while he just does nothing at all. Ugh.

Very, very much later Master put his book aside and told me to come over. He started kissing me, and there are probably different types of kissing, either. I thought I knew everything about kissing before I met John, but I was wrong. I don’t know why exactly, but with him kissing turns out to be more arousing than a lot of other things former mates did to me. Just to be so near, to hear his breath, feel his stubbles, his warm, greedy tongue and how he draws me near….and then that sensation of the Birdlock, preventing any hardening, and the plug. What elso would you need to drive that poor boy nuts? John of course took his time and didn’t let the arousal increase too fast. I guess that’s why I never know for sure where it will lead, whether I will be released from the device and luckily even be stimulated or not. So my mind runs movies of former delights, of hopefully-to-come delights as well. Since I’ve given up the right to decide about my own orgasms, they’ve become more precious to me. In former days I just consumed them mindlessly, but nowadays I really honor each and every orgasm Master allows me.

Later on, he allowed me to deep throat him. In my younger days I did not like deep throat as I felt on the verge of drowning, but I have learnt how to breathe properly and really enjoy it to have Master so deep inside, filling me up. And at that point of time he brought the clothes-pegs into the game. One does not hurt so much (unless it’s placed on my nipples or on the bell-end), but having about 20 of them on myself is more then just ticklish. Gees, I was leaking precum. That’s one thing Master really likes, to find that wet spot in my underwear that tells him his boy is complete horny but can’t touch hisself without permission. He released me and started very tenderly playing around with me. Just one stroke there, then pause. One stroke and a light slap, pause. And during all this stimulation I still had him deep inside of my mouth, trying to concentrate on breathing and choking. But Master changed the setting, put that dummy inside my mouth and those glorious handcuffs around my wrists (he reads this blog and I guess that’s why, hu?) and then kept kissing and gently stroking me. Very slowly. Then increased the speed, just to slow down again. Not long until I was on the edge and Master liked to keep me there. “May I please cum?”. “No.” But he kept stimulating me. “Behave yourself. Don’t you dare cumming”. Oh God, um, how about baseball? Christmas? That dirty kettle I had to clean at work? “May I pleeeaaaase come, Sir? Please…!” “No.” “I can’t hold it back.” “You better do or it may be 100 long days until I release you again”. Ok, that helped, at least for a moment. Quickly he brought me back to the edge. “May I cum now?” “Stop asking, boy, I’ll tell you!”

Ugh!!!

Sooner or later (most times later) it gets so intense that I feel like I am no longer able to cum at all. I am so horny, so needy, that my body just quits. That’s the point of time when I lose grip of my normal consciousness. I am just panting, wishing to be fucked, completely out of myself and well, willing to do most everything. And that’s the point of time when I accept anything, even that urethral-stretcher I normally refuse. It hurts, really, and it makes everything ways, ways more sensitive. John shoved it up my cock and told me to lie still in ordner not to injure me and when he finally placed it, he came next to me and started whispering, kissing, stroking. Very gently, very slowly. I was whimpering while Master suggested he might just keep on for a few minutes like this and then lock me in again. Oh no, oh no, oh no… “I think I’ll have a shower. Let’s see how you are when I return”. That was evil. But he left me and I could hear him next door. It did not help as I imagined him, naked, and the pegs and the stretcher and the plug still in their places. When Master finally returned, he told me to come on my knees and fucked me. I guess there are a few ways to fuck your boy and I like it very hard, almost brutal, with getting spanked, my hair torn and being told how useless I am. I was on the verge of climaxing (but of course could not due to that stretcher) when John did cum. I like to feel that but I like it even more when he puts that plug back in place without me losing even one drop of sperm. “Keep that in place for me, son”. “How long?” “Until I tell you to drop”. Gees!

After climaxing, Master was gentle with me. He carefully pulled out the stretcher, leaving my cock sensitive as hell, and began stroking me again. As I have said before, I am not to receive a blowjob but I had liked to very much. Feeling his soft tongue would have been perfect, but I don’t want to complain, of course not. He took his time to bring me on the edge again and when I again wheesped “may I cum, please, Sir?” he said “Yes, cum for me”. I have been out of myself before but then I felt like being drunk. While he masturbated me, his other hand seemed to be everywhere, on that plug, on the pegs, everywhere. I could not control myself, my body shook like crazy and the orgasm seemed to last forever. Master whispered into my ear “I can fill you up and empty you again, just as I wish”. Isn’t that what every sub wants to hear? I’d call that some kind of spiritual love and sex, that feeling that there are no boundaries, that I’d give myself to Master completey, trusting him, loving him THAT way.

I slept like a baby but I had very kinky dreams. Only this morning John tenderly removed the plug and I felt his cum running out of me, leaving a big wet spot in my underwear I will wear the whole day. I can’t find that dirty. It’s just a reminder of what can’t be described in words. Love you, Sir, and thank you so much.

Armature

It’s been some weeks now since I came to think about armature for the first time. Lord Shiva suggested I should go in for it, but I did not take it very serious as it seemed odd to me. The only “armature” I possess are probably kitchen knives LOL But for Lord Shiva with His trident it appeared to make sense. I myself am not really able to relate to the trident as I tend to view it as an attribute of Poseidon or the Christian-Jewish Devil although many other Gods use to have one, too. I know it sounds profane but a trident also reminds me of a tooth-pick, I’m sorry, and I fail in viewing a tooth-pick as a weapon.

I have never seen myself as a warrior or a dangerous man. I have always been passive and tried to avoid conflicts (let alone the poor attempts to fight or defend myself against others) which might explain why I like to watch superhero movies such as Batman, Superman, Spider Man and so on. I adore stable, strong and somewhat dangerous men as they embody what I never was and obviously never will be and feel very attracted to them. And I sure like uniforms, suits and other clothes that imply that the man wearing them is an Alpha.

When I was in residential therapy back in 1998 they suggested I should learn any type of self-defense or even Karate or whatever to build up self-confidence and the ability to fight. I would not. Friends of mine suggested I should always take a knife or at least pepperspray with me to feel safer. I still would not. As it turned out, I refused to do these things because I thought it was awkward to do so for a person like me, like trying to appear more threatening then I ever was. Predators always seem to know who is a profitable victim and who is not. Unfortunately I am.

So when Lord Shiva suggested I should think about armature, I shunt it, but He was persistant and sent me dreams of wars, fights, guns, bombs and armature. These dreams never turned out very drastic or frightening and I did not get injured, but it got clear that He was serious about it. Sigh. Ok, talking about armature. I only have these kitchen knives and for peeling potatoes I even use a peeler even kids could work with. Not a weapon at all, hu? And I myself am not a weapon. I am the guy picking up spiders and releasing them instead of killing them. I am REALLY not dangerous. But again, Lord Shiva kept asking and so there popped up a memory, obviously because of some games with cling foil and plastic bags John and I recently played. There was a guy in school, two years ahead of me. He was one of those predators. One day he and two of his friends ambushed me and he sat down on my chest, suffocating me. I was in panic and dissociated, but as the “I” seemed to step back, there was something else that took over. Something really strong and dangerous, in some way. I could beat him off and he stopped suffocating me. Well, I could not escape them and they had their fun, but at least I had been able to do something. A little bit. When I remembered that, I also remembered some similar situations. Voilà.

So, my conclusion is that deep inside of me, in the realm of the unconscious, there is something that in certain situations takes over and helps me out of critical situations. But as I never nursed this something, it probably is not very advanced and I can’t connect to it willingly. John suggested this might just be the innate will to survive which mobilises powers one does not have in everyday life. I don’t know. And I don’t feel dangerous or armed , but I have a starting point now.

And one other thing: I knew already that the larger part of my sexual desires are deeply connected to what my father did and that I undergo what he did again and again when having or thinking about sex. But it is new to me that I as a superhero can change my perception of certain objects. I have always liked to be put in handcuffs, especially those with sharp edges which would leave marks around the ankles and everytime I saw those marks it was like punishing me for what my father did and punishing me for the lust I experienced. The more it hurts, the better. I now begin to understand that I can not only accept this connection between the abuse and my own sexuality as weird and insane part of my life, but nourish my own sexuality and my preferences by just focussing on them without always trying to tell myself that I’m a perv and that everything I am and like was built up by my father. It seems to me I’d still give him way too much power over me by maintaining the convinction that I am just his “product”. What he did changed everything, but still I am a self-contained person. Hell, and I really like those handcuffs 😉