If I knew then

I wonder what life would have been like if I knew then what I know now.

My wife has on occasion said she wished that she'd known what I was really like.  I don't think she would have married me.  Would I have married her?  Certainly if we had no kids, I would not feel so much the need to stick around and I suspect she would have left ages ago.

The dilemma with this decision is that in a way I have brought kink more to the fore.  I was always kinky but also at the time of marriage my self esteem was good and even though we did not engage in any kinky stuff (did not even discuss it) that seemed ok.  I was not repressing it.  You know people go through phases of trying to supress their weirdness.  I don't recall doing that.  So I was in love with her and that was all that seemed to matter.

If we had had a open discussion where I brought forth all my kinks and somehow she brought forth that she was as vanilla as one can get then either we would have said "not for us, the cost will be too great" or perhaps both would have gone in willing to work with the other.  Maybe she would have engaged with kink even if she did not like it.  Whereas now her position is "This is not what I signed up for".

Who knows.

Spanking

Triggered by reading this

I want to be spanked.  Weird hey.

Now in times past, I have gotten my wife to spank me and cane me and whip me with a chord.  That was interesting.  Tempered because she is just not into it.  It's not a topic she engages with so I cant even satisfy my curiosity as to what she is thinking on the topic.

One thing I learned, on a practical side was that I found that it was a quite effective way to get rid of a headache.  Maybe it only works for certain types of headaches.  Maybe say tension headaches.  I don't have enough data to progress this.

I used to liken it to "Trigger Point Massage".  In a  "Trigger Point Massage", quite considerable pressure is put on certain locations.  It is reasonably painful in its own way.  Annoyingly, my wife likes trigger point massage but not spanking.  For me though, certainly in terms of dealing with headaches they both work and they both seem to be painful to a degree.

Another thing for me with spanking though I want the dominant person to make the decisions.  When, how many, how hard.  I have always had to ask her to spank me.  I've tried to tell her that it would be great if she were to surprise me and tell me I am going to be spanked and take control but no.  Never happens.  That tempers the experience.  Having to cajole her into it makes it harder to get into a submissive head space and then if she stops and says "Is that enough" - Well No it isn't until you say so.  Or "Am I hurting you"? 'well yes that the idea' Get on with it!  (Grr  :) )

I have this crazy dream that I would like to be tied down and spanked, whipped or caned really hard.  I want to be free to cry and scream but I don't want the person to diminish the force.  I don't want to be asked anything and I don't want a safe word.  For practical or I guess legal and medical protection we would need to negotiate the boundaries but once agreed, I want to be helpless.  Weird hey.

A would also like to spank her or a woman but that is another story.  :)

Adult nappies and a drive to endure

This weekend just gone was a long weekend where we remember our war dead.  Those people who fought and died for our country and as a result we have the freedom to live today.

It was also for me a weekend of commitments with a fair bit of travel.  I decided to wear an adult nappy during the day and on Friday night when I would be in a motel on my own away from my wife.  Only for number ones I might add. 

I keep a small supply of adult nappies (diapers for our American fiends) for when I go to the theatre or concerts as on occasion, I have been caught short and not enjoyed the show because I was concentrating on holding it.  Also after I have been sitting for a while and I stand up then pretty quickly I sometimes get a urge to go and the end result is absolutely just focussing on holding it until I can get to the toilet.

Anyway, because I don't use them continuously, I tend to try a different type each time I but a pack.  The most recent pack while having good capacity is a bit more bulky that I normally buy and also they don't seem to fit so well.  I figured I would use them up.

So for this weekend I started with the idea that I would hold off until desperate and then wee then hold off again and then find a toilet.  The personally set goal was to try to go about 8 hrs between visits to the toilet.  I know that these things pretty much only hold at most one bladder full.  I also don't trust them so I always wear plastic pants over them.  The main problem I have found is that when one sits, some wetness can be squeezed out. 

I found though that rather than holding until desperate, I got a bit lazy, and that as soon as I felt the need a bit, that I would just relax.  And it is relaxing in it's own way. This way they ended up gradually filling.  They got quite full and there was a noticeable lump between my legs.  That then provided motivation to hold on until the 8 hrs was up.  In that time frame I also had to resist the temptation to do a nappy change.  I had set this personal goal and there was this weird desire to endure and push through till the self appointed completion time.

So in the end I went Friday afternoon through late Friday night.  Change and wore one through the night then another Friday day with a change mid afternoon and through to late Sat night by which time I was home and also quite glad to take a break from it.  Then another two on Sunday with a break Sunday night and likewise on Monday. 

The wife would I think just be negative if I were to wear one to bed.

In the end kind of a fun thing.  I know that objectively it seems disgusting to think that a grown man would deliberately wear then wet and remain in a wet diaper but that's it. 

It also reminded me that in many times in my past I have set these personal goals and found a weird sense of need to achieve them.  Sometimes academic but more often in what I now know as the kink space. 

It's in the way I communicate

I note with some sadness that people rarely comment on my blog. 

Looking back over my life, I realise that as time has gone on, I've become quieter and quieter.  With my wife, I find that if I say something, it can be taken the wrong way and unfortunately instead of her clarifying my meaning she just takes the wrong interpretation.  Sometimes I find out later that I had the "wrong" "Inflection" in my voice.  In general though I seem to just be a little off key with my interactions so I find it's easier to just stay quiet.

This does not seem to happen when I am with a group of guys.  General chit chat about sport, politics, religion or the attractiveness of some passing female. 

I guess with the guys, I am not discussing personal feelings or thoughts. 

Here on this blog and with my wife of course it is personal level discussion.  On here, I pour out my thoughts and feelings.  With the wife, I have learned not to share such things.  In that arena it seems that if I express an interest or desire in something, I then find she does not like it.  Whether sexual or whatever.  Most recently, I thought a scenic flight in a small plane would be nice.  Nope turns out she hates small planes.  Could not establish why or if she'd ever been in one.  She just does not like them.

And that is just the way it is.

mascohism and greasing

I was reading this and it reminded me of some teen activities

At boarding school we had a activity called "greasing" this involved smearing some kids balls with Mecleans toothpaste.  It burned like high hell.  My recollections are a bit hazy but I was aware of the practice long before I ever participated in it.

The operation normally took place at night and most likely I imagine on a weekend.  People seemed pretty focussed on school during the week.

I do recall though looking back that feeling of detached curiosity when some kid or other was deemed in need of being greased and would be grabbed and someone would squeeze a goodly amount of toothpaste into their hand and they would shove it down the kids undies or PJ pants and plaster his balls in it.  The kid would be held down bucking and screaming until it was deemed enough was enough and the kid would run off to the showers. 

The day must have come when it befell me and the burning sensation was insane.  I bucked and struggled and fought all to no avail and when finally released sprinted for the showers.  Then a second wave of pain.  Interestingly as the water hit there was a second wave of pain.  The burning sensation continued at a milder level for some hours.  

I do not recall how many times I was greased.  Not many.  The curiosity though was there and at various times I tried it on myself.  Sometimes accompanied by masturbation that I guess creating a neural pathway joining pleasure and pain.

The other memory from this same time was that it befell me to grease someone else.  I suspect that I was 'designated' to perform the act.  I do not recall being the sort of kid who would do this sort of thing as a personal vendetta.  I recall the kid in question knew that I was designated to do this.  In hindsight a example of dominant power.  I recall quite a feeling of exhilaration as I negotiated with him that he would grease himself.  This gave me a sense of relief because I was not all that keen on either shoving my hands down his pants nor the physically forceful process of catching and forcing it all to happen.  Somehow the negotiated approach seemed better.  The poor kid agreed to do it and to stand until I released him.  This suited me fine and I received notoriety for the act as a small group witnessed it and witnessed the poor kid standing there with tears streaming down his face bent over holding his burning balls and pleading to be allowed to go. 

Interesting how ones memories are triggered

Shame, regret, fear of being found out

Growing up, I never felt guilty or shame or regret.  Not that I recall anyway.  An interesting contrast to the present where I wish I had never told my wife.  I sometimes wish I had never had these kinks and was just "normal" when it came to sex.  Maybe then my wife would love me and have no need to think I am weird.  But mainly I just wish I had never told her.  I feel she is frigid, up tight, judgemental and a just a whole lot of depressing negatives.  That's me being negative and judgemental here.

As a kid I don't recall being overly scared of being found out.  Mindful of it and knowing it was not socially normal.   I suspect in hindsight that my mother probably knew at least something.  She however was pretty laid back.  Not a verbally aggressive person.  To take a more vanilla thing, When I tried smoking as a kid, her response was to tell me to keep it outside.  I think she kind of ignored things.  I recall one time, she opened my bedroom door when I was standing there in one of my plastic singlets and she just closed the door.  Several years later, I had acquired a leotard and used to wear it as underwear.  I must have left it somewhere.  She washed it and just put it in my underwear draw.  Nothing was said.

I contrast the above with stories I read on the web where parents discover their kids cross dressing or wearing a nappy and they explode and punish the kid.  Similarly the net seems to over flow with bare bottom punishment and I never saw or even heard of that.  Finally when one reads on the net of kids who wet the bed or wore nappies.  I can understand them being worried about being found out but I don't recall any of the kids I knew who either wore nappies to bed or who wet the bed ever being teased.  I would imagine that in the heat of the moment, one kid may use that as a weapon against another kid but it did not seem to feature in my circle of friends anyway.

Effort from as early as I can recall

I have a couple of kinks - Plastic, spanking, girls tights.

I have spent a bit of time on the net and realised that many others, as kids, spent quite a deal of time feeding the addiction.  There were a number of people who described the effort they went into to make plastic pants out of shopping bags or stealing plastic pants  and so on.

For me I did several weird things.  I can recall making a pair of plastic pants out of grey duct tape.  Of course they were not stretchy.  Very encasing.  This was defiantly pre puberty.  Probably about grade 5 or 6 so around 10 or 11.   I did the making and trying on in the laundry which was in a small separate shed in the back yard.  I don't recall wetting them.  In fact at that age, I do not recall a desire to wet.  Just an affinity to plastic.  I certainly had a curiosity with nappies and plastic pants and plastic sheets on beds.  I would check out my friends bed rooms to see who had plastic protectors on their beds and so on but I don't recall actually getting aroused or wanting to wet.  Weird hey.

I also used to make plastic pants and plastic singlets out of plastic shopping bags.  For the singlet, I would cut straight across the bottom and the carry handles would be shoulder straps. For plastic pants, I would cut leg holes at the bottom.  I used to try and make these tight so a lot of effort was required to slowly slip them on.  To make this happen I would smear some baby oil and at times vascelene on my body.  I had to be careful that the plastic did not rip and would pre tear strips of duct tape to reinforce the plastic if it started to stretch too much in one place.

This was all pre puberty.

So no orgasms.  But I recall a sort of internal challenge to see how long I could wear them.  I think pretty soon after I would get it on I would then partly want to take it off.  But I would set up these sort of personal challenges to see how long I could wear them.

I recall in middle primary school being in a play and having to wear green tights and a brown tunic.  Closest thing to a dress.  I was again turned on in a prepubescent way.  Kept them for years after and would wear them both in the safety of my room.  But often, I would wear the tights under long pants.  To school and also just around the place.  In retrospect, I think the school thing fitted into that personal challenge thing in that once they were on I really could not take them off until I got home from school.

I guess the thing I started to write on was the effort that was expended. 



 

Dream On

The marriage is to be honest
Stale, Tender, Boring, A bit tense.
We are nice to each other.
She does not talk about her feelings.
I know not to talk about mine although sometimes I slip up on that.

On that issue, I would love to find someone in Brisbane Australia who is of a kinky mindset (and you would have to be if you are reading this) to chat and discuss feelings, kink etc over a beer or a coffee or a glass of red.

So I figured I might just use this little writing space as a place to pour out feelings and fantasies.  In addition to reading other kinky submissive blogs.

Anonymity means that I can be truthful.  There is no need to disguise fantasy as fact which seems to be a feature of the net.  (On that you would think every person ever caned was caned on their bare bum - hmm really?)

So where to....?

On the real side
Well I like to wear an adult diaper.  Sometimes I get urge incontinence and have to really really focus to not wet myself.  If I wear a diaper then I don't have to do this.  There are several situations where it is convenient.  For example, yesterday at work I had several back to back meetings.  One would finish as the next was scheduled to start.  A bit of a walk between meeting rooms and I am in a hurry.  Standing and that dreaded urge to pee.  There are no toilets between the meeting rooms.  I have to go past the meeting room to the toilet and then come back.  As I get to the room, everyone is there and ready to start including some contractors who have been signed in.  Awkward.  I'm the chair.  I'm supposed to make it all happen.  I just go in and the formalities of shaking hands and exchanging business cards takes place and I just wet myself.  Sounds disgusting when you say it like that.

Tonight the family and friends are going to the movies.  I will wear a diaper for this because on occasion I have had to keep focus and that kind of distracts from the enjoyment of the show.

On the fantasy side, I was dreaming of a woman wearing a tight stretchable plastic leotard boy leg with sleeves.  The fantasy just wandered around in my head as a fun little kinky distraction.  Different versions of the day dream included pondering someone who did this because she enjoyed it and another being one of being arm twisted into it.  Wearing it under her clothes say to work and sweating in it and having to put some absorbent material garters (like what tennis players wear on their wrists) around her legs.  Later wearing just it on its own at some kind of party.  I was envisaging that it was not clear plastic but a milky colour so as to provide the barest covering.  Also how does she wee in it?