Sep 152014

In all of my adult life, I’ve never taken a vacation. I don’t have much desire to travel and little need to ‘get away’ — it’s not for lack of time, ability, or funds, but because I’m happy where I am.

The only break I’ve ever wanted is from myself, and since that’s not possible, I’ve done my best to construct a life I enjoy inhabiting.

airplaneI’m good at what I do, and most of the time, I find it deeply satisfying. I’ve reached the point where I’m comfortable enough in my own skin (despite its flaws) and I’ve learned how to live within the confines of my own head (despite its activity and disorder).

I live a stone’s throw from the beach and the city, on the thin margin between that’s home to a vibrant arts scene, amazing café con leche, and so many fresh starts and bitter endings that make for creativity, good music, and great conversation.

I love my life — what it is, where it is, and (mostly) who I am within it.


But lately I’ve been dreaming about leaving here and taking him with me.

I’ve been shopping for flights I’ll never take, assessing amenities of lodgings where I’ll never stay, and day dreaming of cities I’ll never see.

What would he have done if I made the arrangements and told him to get in the car? What would he have done if I drove us to the airport and told him to get our bags from the trunk? What would he have done I took his hand and asked him to get on the plane with me?

What would I have done if he refused?


Leaving Town
Dexter Freebish

Oh your reputation’s so golden
You’re never lonely and you’re never home
I know you’ve been talking about leaving
You’ve lost all your feeling for this town

Paint your nails and put on your lipstick
You don’t wanna miss your ticket out
Just because you graduate from school
So high in the gene pool, that’s your point of view

But when you’re broken down
And no one else is around
You’ll come running back to this town
And I’ll be there, yeah, I’ll be there

‘Cause I remember how we drank time together
And how you used to say that the stars are forever
And daydreamed about how to make your life better
By leaving town, leaving town

Pack your bags, your smokes in your pocket
You’re wearing my locket around your neck
Take a drag and wait for the greyhound
The world is your playground and you wanna win


image based on “airplane-309386″ by Nemo. Work has been placed in the Public Domain under Creative Commons CC0 1.0 Universal Public Domain Dedication (CC0 1.0).
Sep 112014

Today’s reader question comes from Experienced Edgar
from Great Expectations, Illinois.

You know you can ask me anything, right?
That doesn’t mean you should ask me anything… but you totally can.

I am a male slave with a fair bit of experience. I met a girl on Friday last, and when I dropped her off, she mentioned something about kink. That immediately triggered my interest, but I left it at that and left.
The whole week while chatting, I brought the subject up and she seems quite keen but has no experience. I offered to do all her house chores on Saturday and she accepted.
I am now quite nervous as what to expect and how to handle the situation. If I can be helped with my approach and protocol I will be so grateful as it’s now a different situation where I will be the slave and she the novice wannabe Mistress.
Thank you so much for the opportunity to ask.

What should you expect?

You should expect to do her house chores.

How should you handle the situation?

You should handle the situation with a vacuum cleaner, a mop and bucket, a feather duster, and a toilet brush. You should handle it by doing exactly what you offered… without having expectations for anything more.

If she accepted your offer to do housework and there was no explicit mention of reciprocation (of any form), then you shouldn’t expect reciprocation (of any form, besides a “thank you,” because that’s just good manners). If she didn’t suggest anything kinky, sexual, or D/s,  you shouldn’t expect any. Also, keep in mind that while you may find doing a woman’s housework kinky, she may not. I’ve never been turned on by a man’s “domestic service,” and there’s a good chance she won’t get all hot and bothered when you dust knick-knacks either (that’s not a euphemism). She’s under no obligation to indulge your kinks any more than what you offered and she agreed to.


Beyond folding linens, washing dishes, and scrubbing floors…

She might be curious about kink, but without any experience or exposure, she may not have any idea what that means or what she’s interested in. At this point, you don’t even know if she’s dominant, submissive, switchy, or entirely vanilla… and there’s a good chance she doesn’t know either. (You shouldn’t assume… and neither should she.)

So, you could ask her what she’s interested in, but don’t expect much of a response. You’ve only known each other for a week — she might not feel comfortable sharing the specifics of her curiosity with you at this early stage.

If you ask and she seems amenable to sharing her thoughts, but she’s unsure of what she might interest her, you could point her to some online introductory/informational resources. (By informational, I mean not porn.)

If she reads, is still interested, and wants more, she can ask you or find it on her own.

Just don’t push her and don’t assume she’s dominant. She might not be. And keep in mind that she may have mentioned kink offhandedly, and then expressed an interest because she likes you. Of course, she may just be interested in having someone clean her house.

Regardless of the situation, keep your expectations low. If you lower your expectations, there’s less chance you’ll be disappointed and less chance you’ll push her into something she’s either not interested in or not ready for.

Advice on Approach and Protocol

For the time being, your only concern should be approaches to and protocols for house cleaning. Dust before vacuuming, vacuum before mopping, and if you really want to impress her, use newspapers instead of paper towels for cleaning windows and mirrors for a totally streak free shine.

You’re welcome. :)

(…and good luck!)


Sep 082014
woman with open mouth filled with silver glitter

“Glitter Mouth” © 2014 by Tyler Shields. All rights reserved.

Tension in my jaw
clenching thoughts
between my teeth.
Pressure building around
words expanding
under strain.
If I wasn’t holding back
I might spit diamonds
hard enough to cut us both.

“Glitter Mouth” © 2014 by Tyler Shields. All rights reserved. Used under the guidelines listed on the contact page: “This is not about using a photo on your myspace or blog (feel free to use it on there)…”
Sep 042014

fence with sign 'private property, no public access'

In the wake of the massive leak[1] of stolen, private, nude celebrity photos, it was heartening to see people speak out against privacy violations, particularly those facilitated by prevailing cultural attitudes about women that see their bodies as public property, as commodities to be traded, sold, and owned.

Twitter peeps, Facebook friends, Tumbler folks and writers of all sorts said something — and what they said was important. But even more important than what they said was how they said it:

Unfortunately, it is difficult for some to grasp that women’s bodies, particularly famous women’s bodies, are not public domain, ripe for consumption whenever the fancy strikes.
Emma Gray, Huffington Post


The bigger problem here is that every woman should have complete control over their bodies. They decide what people see or don’t see.


None of these women are likely to give a shit that you think their bodies are “tight, damn”. Despite what society reinforces to us about the public ownership of women’s bodies, we are not entitled to co-opt and objectify them just because we think we can defend it as a compliment.
Clementine Ford, Daily Life


Jennifer Lawrence does not exist to fulfill my masturbatory fantasies. Jennifer Lawrence is not a thing to be passed around like a joint at a party. Jennifer Lawrence is a human fucking being. And she’s not my property, and she’s not your property, and we all need to back the fuck off.

Sure. Most people understand that hacking, stealing, and distributing stolen goods is wrong. In the most egregiously reductive sense, that’s what happened to Jennifer Lawrence and so many others when their private photos were stolen, sold, and distributed online.

But it wasn’t just an issue of someone breaking into Jennifer Lawrence’s house, stealing her silverware set or vinyl collection, and selling it on the street. It was more than that.

While most people get that we don’t have a right to other people’s property, what we still need to learn is that we don’t have a right to women’s bodies — we don’t have a right to see them, to touch them, or to own them. We have no right to tell a woman what she should or shouldn’t do with her body. We have no right to tell a woman how she should feel about her body, nor do we have any right to tell a woman how we feel about her body — no matter what her body looks like, and no matter how she chooses to use it.

And that’s why I’m strangely heartened by the discourse surrounding this most recent crime.

The fact that so many people framed their outrage in terms of consent and violation is evidence of meaningful progress toward valuing women’s rights to choose how, where, and with whom they share their bodies. The language means people are starting to understand that a woman’s body is not community property, no matter what she does for a living or what she does in private, regardless of how or when she chooses to use her body in her public or private life, and no matter what her body looks like or how attractive we might find it.

A woman’s body is her own. She chooses when, where, and how she’ll share it.

Full stop.

It doesn’t matter what she does for a living. It doesn’t matter if she takes nude selfies. It doesn’t matter if she’s hot.

Her body is her own. Period.

We’ve got a ways to go, but this is something.

1. Yeah, I know there is some debate over whether it should be called a “leak” or not. According to the OED (the absolute last word on both dictionary definitions and celebrity news), the adjective leaked refers to something secret or private that is purposefully disclosed. For that reason, it’s appropriate to say the photos were stolen and then leaked.
image based on “No public access” by Foomandoonian, (2012). Work licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0). [modifications: adjusted proportions, enlarged sign, cleaned up lettering]
Aug 292014

When we last left our heroine, she was sad, drunk, and holding bolt cutters…
continued from breaking up (the collar), part 1

detached collar rings with overlayed text:

One of the O-rings is mine.

My intention was to turn it into a bracelet I could wear every so often — maybe when I’m missing him — but that didn’t work out so well. It did make a lovely bracelet, but I have freakishly tiny wrists, so it was too big for me to wear (aesthetically or comfortably). It would make a much better necklace, but I’m damn-straight not going to wear what appears to be a collar around my neck.

I think I have another idea, but with work deadlines looming, I’ll have to wait a while before I sit down and figure out if it will work. At some point (not now), I’ll post photos of my failed bracelet and maybe you all could help me come up with some ideas for what else to do with it.

collar with left and right d-rings and o-rings removed

One of the o-rings is J’s.

I made his ring into something else — a kind of usable keepsake, I guess. It’s not for him to wear or keep on his person, but I hope he keeps it around. I won’t disclose what it is here — it’s a bit too personal (and likely, too boring for anyone who isn’t him or me).

Although I gave the other ring to J to hold, it doesn’t belong to him. It’s mine, and I want it back someday… along with the boy wore it.

repurposed collar with two rings removed

The last ring stays on our collar.

If our paths cross again, I want to put our rings back on our collar and put the collar back on the boy. I want him to be my boy again — not forever, but maybe for a little while.

It’s not a promise, it’s not wishful thinking, and it’s not false hope. It’s possibility.

It’s all I’ve got at the moment, and that’s what I’m holding onto.