The Fox Den

Social vs. "Social"

Something must have bitten me.

There hasn't been much of 2012 lately, but for whatever reason, I've been playing a LOT so far in 2012. I've already used my dungeon/attic more this year than I did last year (don't laugh). Maybe it's the full moon tonight?

Or maybe it's just that I'm learning to navigate being social, vs. being "social". It seems like whenever I get together with a group of kinky friends, be it in Minneapolis or at an event like MAL, I don't want to miss out on seeing all the great friends I rarely see. But then when that happens, I usually just end up being social (read "drinking") with them, and screwing around gets thrown to the wayside. 

It's about finding the proper amount of balance in life. Seeing friends is great, yeah, but to maintain health as a kinkster, one needs to settle those cravings. And yet, I've felt completely satisfied being social with my kinky friends.

Maybe I'm just moving up to a new level? I've gotten used to being social and I feel like I know my friends and who they are. Maybe I'm ready to depart those times a little bit more often now that I've had them enough and explore some new territory I haven't yet explored. 

Moderation in all things. Including moderation. Can't wait to see what else 2012 holds...

It's Working

For those of you who have only recently joined this blog and/or may have not read every single word dating back two and a half years ago, let me rehash why I started writing in the first place. 

I was looking at Recon profiles and blogs for years, and reading about all the hot experiences guys have, wishing it were me. They all seemed to be from guys who either lived in the Northeast or the West coasts. Years of looking at all these profiles and seeing things that I didn't have, yet wanting so badly resulted in giving me a complex of feeling powerless to change anything about my kinky life. And I thought to myself, yes, I've played, but not like that....

.....but I've played. I thought about it more and more, and I realized; I've been doing bondage since I was 18. Despite living in the middle of nowhere in college, I played a LOT. I found guys out there on sites and went for more weekend excursions than I remember (fortunately, most of them had photographic evidence). Maybe the pictures weren't as hot as the ones I've seen by other guys and maybe I didn't have a whole room full of gear and a dungeon of my own, but for being 25 years old, I have a pretty fucking kinky life! There's no reason I shouldn't be proud of it.

Moreover, there's no reason that anyone else can't have it. Maybe if I wrote about my own life, others won't feel so inhibited to get out there and play while they're younger. Grab your kinky life by the balls, kinkster, because you're not the only college boy dying to break into this. 

I've been pouring my life out to you all through this site in the hope that someone, somewhere is reading it and feeling like they're not alone. I track my stats a little bit so I know I have plenty of readers, but being that the blog really isn't that old (only 2ish years), I'm sure there's an impact yet to be made. 

But it's working. 

This weekend, MPLSGuy invited me up to help entertain a couple boys visiting him from Florida. FLABound and FlyBoyFL came up for their first big kinky excursion. It was an absolutely perfect weekend. There was a LOT of play, a tour of Minneapolis dungeons (thanks to MPLSGuy, b1point5, and Pterodactyl), good food, great laughs, EPIC bondage scenes (thanks to all our hosts and my partner in crime, PupTrigger), awesome nights at the bar, and a wonderful feeling of family with two really hot, young guys. As I sit here and write this on Monday evening, I feel a little bit like IML just ended. I'm kind of on cloud nine from these guys. 

On top of it all, the boys couldn't stop gushing over how excited they were to meet me. It was almost embarrassing how much they treated me like some kind of celebrity all weekend. I hadn't really talked to them on Recon or anything before meeting them this weekend, but they both told me how long they've been reading my blog for and how inspiring it was to them. Without the words and experiences I've written about here, they both told me that they would never have had the courage to dive in deeper or to go fly off to visit a dom for a kinky weekend. They were both too nervous to ever chat with me before, but they both said, "Reading your words gave us hope, and courage."

I'm not telling all of this just to blow my own horn. Fuck the fame, the fortune, the power, or the glory. That's not what this blog is about. I'm just so proud that I'm already somehow meeting the greatest goal that I ever set out for myself in this little spot on the web. I'm not here to be a celebrity. I'm just a regular guy! But I'm so, so proud that the words I've written are already having an impact on lives, somewhere.

But it's not just my words. More and more blogs, tumblrs, and twitters have been popping up from kinky, younger guys all over the country. People like TallGlassOfOJ, KinkyBoiNick, AlphaPupAlpine, BenInLeatherLand, JohnnyGear, VagaBondageBoy, PupSkoll, LeatherBondageLove, AllAmericanKinkster and RubberFreak are all pouring their kinky hearts, souls, and lives out for all the world to understand. These are all pivotal for our entire community. The more we share our own lives, the less isolated we'll feel, the more kinksters will come out, the stronger our community will be, and the more family we have.

To FLABound and FlyBoyFL, thanks for an awesome weekend, thanks for reading, and thanks for having the courage to take a leap of faith.

And to all the other blogging, tweeting, and tumblring kinksters out there,
Keep playing.
Keep traveling.
Keep photographing.
Keep writing.
Keep reading.
Keep living. 
Keep loving.

We're reaching them. It's working. 

Make a Kinky Resolution

BLUF made a statement yesterday, and it's already been published on Leatherati's and Dan Savage's blogs. I think it's absolutely perfect. It's everything I've ever fought for as a kinkster through this blog. Read their whole statement here.

Their point is to get kinksters off their computers/smartphones, put their gear on, and get out to the leather bars in their communities. So many of our favorite, most cherished of places have been closing down in recent years. The Chicago Eagle, Detroit Eagle, and now the SF Eagle are the latest of the casualties. Please, consider making the 12x12 resolution. Visit your local leather bar 12 times in the 12 months of 2012. Without patrons, these bars will close. Let's stop this downward spiral. Let's remember that leather (or rubber or whatever your kink is) is something to be celebrated, embraced, and worn proudly; it's not just something you wear at home, alone, behind closed doors while you cruise Recon or Scruff.

In Minneapolis, we make the resolution pretty easy to meet. Gear/dresscode night is once a month, every month on the 2nd Saturday at The Minneapolis Eagle, and they're always a blast. But I would encourage the regulars at MPLS Gear Night to double down on this resolution. Keep going to gear night, but gear up, and go out at least one other time during the month that it's NOT a gear night. I try to wear leather or latex whenever I go to the Eagle, which is pretty frequently. If more guys bring back that energy to the bar, just imagine - maybe dresscode night wouldn't just be once a month? Maybe it would be every day?

If you live in one of the following cities, you still have an Eagle you can, and should, support:

• Denver
• Los Angeles
• San Diego
• Washington D.C.
• Atlanta
• Indianapolis
• Baltimore
• New Orleans
• Minneapolis
• New York
• Portland
• Providence
• Dallas
• Seattle
• Tulsa
• Toronto
• Calgary
• Vienna
• Stuttgart
• Madrid
• London
• Manchester

But the list doesn't stop there. There are many leather bars in the US and elsewhere that don't use the name "Eagle". I'm emphasizing these only because the name "Eagle" is an iconic name for a leather bar, and it's always heartbreaking to hear of another one closing (and also because my googleing skills aren't good enough to find every leather bar in the USA). Whatever the name of your leather bar in your city is, get out there and support them! These leather business owners deserve our support. It's not easy being an entrepreneur in this economy, and being a leather entrepreneur has its own set of drama to go with it. Without these brave individuals, there would be no leather bars in the first place. And personally, I think MY life has gotten better since I started going to the MPLS Eagle....

If you DON'T live in or near a city that has a leather or other similar alternative bar, don't be discouraged. Living in Rochester, MN, Kirksville, MO, Iowa City, IA, Marquette, MI, Springfield, MO, Jackson, MI, Appleton, WI, Buffalo, NY, and other smaller, remote places can be a real challenge for leather people. We don't always get to choose where we live, but no matter where you are, you're probably not alone. If you can safely, consider being the voice for the community in your hometown. Consider starting a leather group, organization, or even just speak to your local gay bar (or the most liberal of straight bars you can find) about having a leather night once a month. These events and clubs just don't come from nowhere. If you need help or advice on these smaller communities/areas, e-mail me. I can give you a little advice on those smaller communities.

If you can find the strength inside of you to lead a community in a small town, then you will have everything you will ever need to face the world.

Check out the Facebook Page for the 12x12 campaign here. Post their badge on your blog, your website, your tumblr or your twitter. Spread the word. We can stop the closing of our most sacred of places. We can revitalize this community, and remind ourselves that leather isn't just something you wear to get off. We were first a community, a brotherhood. We can still have that. And when we find it, we won't ever have to see another Eagle or other leather bar or shop shut down again.

Stand strong, kinksters!

Kick your Heels Up

The question I've been asked over and over again at these NACA Trade Shows I've been attending is, "What exactly are your speeches about?" This question is usually asked by the college student or adviser with the crinkled forehead and unsure smile, half curious, and half afraid of my answer. Which brings me to the point; why am I here doing this at all?

At the root of the question is the reason why people who are kinky, regardless of their gender or sexual orientation, feel as though they can't explore that side of themselves. This is a subject which I refer to as "kink shame". I'm lucky enough to have been born and lived without ever feeling the guilt or shame associated with being turned on by something a bit alternative in the bedroom; my friends never fail to remind me that not everyone is lucky enough to have lived this way. Before someone can explore this whole side of themselves, they have to be able to accept and affirm it for themselves first. In this way, becoming kinky or practicing kink requires a process similar to coming out. This leads me to my philosophy on kink in general - being kinky is as much a part of someone's sexual identity as their orientation is.

So you have to come out to yourself as kinky, yeah? It's a kind of second coming out to those of us who are gay or lesbian. When I think about the world of BDSM, leather, rubber, etc. I truly believe that by total volume, there are more straight kinky people in the world than there are gay kinky people, but among those separate orientations, the proportion of kinky straight people, by percentage, is probably SMALLER than kinky gay people. Kink is a much bigger part of gay culture than it is of being straight. Why?

Because we don't have to leap that far.

Gay men have always had a sort of fun and airy attitude toward sex than straight people, in large part because for us, having sex, even vanilla sex, is a true rebellion against the societal norm we are constantly judged against. It's exactly the thing that we are oppressed over and the thing that the haters hate us for. In the words of Margaret Cho, "If you're oppressed over who you fuck, you're gonna kick up your heels and FUCK!" Making things even easier for us is the fact that gay men already came out once. To do so again, over our kinks, isn't as far of a leap to jump in most cases.

Straight people don't have this luxury afforded to them. They aren't oppressed over who they fuck, it's just over HOW they fuck. Missionary position is still the expectation among most straight people. Anything different makes you (supposedly) deviant, wrong, and mentally ill. Coming to terms with being kinky is the first time a straight person will likely struggle with this kind of conflict in his/her life. This oppression, the oppression that a gay man has already overcome, is enough to make a straight person retreat back into the kinky closet and attempt to ignore that part of him/herself for a few more years. Out, gay men have the foresight to know that ignoring it won't make it go away. Couple this with a lack of prevalent resources (there is nothing as prominent for straight kinksters as Recon, Gearfetish, or Manhunt are for gay men), and it's easy to see why the proportion of kinky gays is bigger than the proportion of kinky straights.

So why am I trying to do these speeches?

Sometimes the biggest contributing factor to someone's comfort level with themselves is seeing precisely that quality in others around them. Living with a quality that you think makes you think you're mentally ill is an unhealthy way to lead your life. No one should have to carry that burden, and no longer should we have to carry that burden ourselves. Remember when that lawyer got fired in New York a few weeks ago? The only way unfair treatment like that will stop is for all kinksters in the world to stand up and say, "STOP, this is wrong." The kinkster who's in the closet won't do that. The one who feels empowered and belongs to a community is not only leading a fulfilling, joyous life, but will also feel empowered enough in themselves to stand up along with us as we chant, "STOP, this is wrong." And one day, we'll be able to live in a world where we don't have to use fake names and we don't have to be scared of losing our jobs because of what we do behind closed doors.

Instilling confidence in those who feel powerless helps individuals, groups, as well as the kinky community as a whole. The way to do it is to teach people that it's okay to love yourself, enjoy and express your kinks, and not to fear dancing to the rhythm of your life.

Because if there's one thing I know how to do well, it's kick up my heels.

Stronger Than Myself

To those of you who wrote in with your kind words about this blog, thank you. You made me stop and think further about what I'm writing for. I didn't know that my crazy little life was so inspirational to you out there. I'll work harder to remember that you don't expect perfection from me. Everything I publish doesn't have to be the most beautiful piece of art I've ever written. It's just an imperfect blog about an imperfect life, like all of us.

I still hold myself to higher standards, and when I fail, I take it really, really hard on myself. I do this in every facet of my life, including my relationship to my husband, my kinky friends, my work, my problem with ADHD, my speaking career, my cooking....pretty much everything I do. I was always held to really high standards as a child (one of my weekly household chores was to do the dusting of all the furniature; I remember once getting punished for not dusting the top of the fucking refridgerator in our kitchen). I didn't even know I was doing it to myself.

Flogging is not something I often do, but there are definitely times where I'm feeling some emotions and I just need to let it all out.  I tend to wall up my emotions and just let them build up, in order to maintain a good public image.  The summer was kind of crazy for me, and particularly the past week (for a very, very personal reason I won't be blogging about).  I couldn't sort out my emotions in my head, but I thought being flogged might help, for emotional AND sexual reasons.

I went to Inferno with the Chicago Hellfire Club this weekend, and made an appointment for a session. I stepped up onto the St. Andrew's cross, and I got shackled with my arms in the air on either side. Being flogged is an emotional catharsis. The first few swats don't really hurt much, but then they start to hurt.  Yet you don't ask for them to stop. You get flogged and flogged until you get "broken" and you break down, emotionally, and just let it out and start to cry. For me, that's where the scene typically ends. But I didn't do that this time.

When I got to the point where I wanted to cry and we usually stop, I gritted my teeth and strained against my restraints.  Without even thinking about it, I fought it back. It was tough to hide the tears from my dom and look like I could still keep going. But I fought HARD. It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life to fight those tears back.  I cleared my throat before I spoke to tell him, "I'm fine, Sir." And on he went, throwing those thuds against my back with his various floggers.

My mind raced.  Why in the world did I just do that?  I pulled hard against my restraints and braced myself for more pain.

It happened again after a few minutes.  Even though I really, really just wanted to cry, let it all out, collapse, and be done, some headstrong determination surfaced and took over my body.  I mouthed to myself, "You're stronger than this," as I braced myself against the wood of the cross and once again, forced those tears back into my head.  I was hurting like hell, more than I have ever hurt in my entire life, but I felt like I wasn't done yet.  I was looking for something I hadn't found yet in this beating.

By this point, my back was red, puffy, the muscles were loosely hanging off my scapulae, and just the slightest breeze made it sting.  And that was just a breeze... Sir asked, "Alright boy?" And again I cleared my throat and tried hard to mask the sounds of my crying.  "Yes Sir.  Don't stop yet."  I wanted to hurt more than I'd ever had before.  I wanted this to be a real punishment for the things I've done that seemed so wrong in my eyes.

He switched his tools again and returned to my back.  I was starting to yell though; each time he hit me, I screamed.  Some louder than others.  As my screams escalated and my back stung so bad I thought my arms were getting ripped off, Sir just picked up his pace and smacked at my back faster and faster. Tears were just streaming silently from my eyes into my blindfold as I screamed.  It had been about an hour of flogging at this point.  When I wasn't yelling, I was mouthing to myself, "Stronger than this," over and over again, telling myself that I can keep on going and not to stop.  

Why?  My mind was racing around.  Why is my body doing exactly what my brain says I shouldn't be doing?

Two exceptionally hard cracks and I nearly collapsed down from the cross, if it weren't for the restraints holding me up.  I clambered back up, fighting with all the strength I had left in my soul to keep on going.  I wasn't able to prevent my crying from being so obvious, but I was trying.  

I held my breath waiting for another strike, but it never came.  Instead I felt Sir in front of me, on the other side of the cross.  "Stop fighting it so hard," he said.  I started to cry harder.  I felt a liquid dripping down my back.  Weird, I thought.  After I realized I was bleeding, my mind finally quieted itself, and there, in that darkest, most painful, bloodiest, tearfilled moment, I felt on the outside how I did on the inside.  In that quiet peace that resulted, I looked to my own heart and found the strength to forgive.......myself.

"Thank you, Sir," I bawled as he held me.  I just cried and cried as I stood there, frozen, bleeding.

There's no reason for me to be so tough on myself. Sometimes I screw up, sometimes multiple people screw up and something goes wrong, or something hurts. That doesn't always make it my fault. Moreover, imperfection does not equal failure, and I don't need to constantly beat myself up over that. I'm worth more, and I can stop this endless cycle of self-depreciation.  I know I can.

Because after all...

The Bondage

I've been asked by a couple readers who think they don't necessarily understand my fetish to further explain.  What exactly is it that makes me tick, and what is it about boys into bondage?  It's a complicated question.

I've always said and will continue to say that my main fetish is bondage.  Anything beyond that may turn me on, sure, but this is where it all started for me.  I know I'm not alone either - but as I've grown older,
 I've learned/discovered that the TRUE bondage enthusiasts among us are fewer and farther between than I originally thought.  When I was exploring the kinky sites and learning more, I thought EVERYONE was into bondage....and that may be the case, a little, but the "specialists" are less frequent.

I think on a certain level, either you get it or you don't.  The best way to illustrate this is to start from the beginning.  I first remember being turned on by the idea of bondage when I was 4 years old.  Yes, four.  I know you're all going to squirm as you read this, and I'm squirming pretty hard as I'm typing it myself, but I can't deny it.  I remember sitting in the back of my parent's station wagon on a family vacation.  I was doing a coloring book to pass the time.  I flipped though it, and the last page was a picture of three cowboys, all tied back with their backs to a pole, all of them gagged with these huge bandannas covering their mouths.  Even at that age, I was inexplicably drawn to that picture; I remember being turned on by it.  Even at 4 years old.

I think most of the people who are into bondage understand this.  But what is it specifically that turns me on about it?  It's a culmination of a lot of factors.  It's the feeling of the rope.  It's straining against said rope and stretching your body out.  It's the feeling of helplessness, knowing that you can't stop what's happening to you.  Add a gag, blindfold, and ear plugs, and it's sensory deprivation to the max.  That's why a lot of times, bondage enthusiasts like mummification so much.  But what's so sexy about that?

Think about it this way.  You can't speak.  You can't see.  You can't hear what's going on very well, you can't move at all, and you definitely can't get out of the bondage by yourself.  The only thing you CAN feel is your dick.  Think about all the other sensory inputs in your body being shut off, and the only thing you can feel and focus your mind on is that incredible sexual arousal.  I never really thought of it this specifically before, but it's definitely a mind trip. 

But honestly, I can't say I have much of an appeal to professional bondage(sites like www.boundgods.com, www.boundinpublic.com, etc.) and/or professional porn.  The realism is very important to me, and it's far too obvious that the guys in those sites and others like it really only enjoy the bondage as an adjunct to the sex.  Sure, they may look pretty, and they're looking to get fucked by a pretty guy, but they're not *really* into it.  It's painfully obvious to me that the guys in the porn wouldn't be having sex with bondage if they weren't being paid to.  To me, a guy who really gets into bondage gets hard when he's tied up, regardless of whether or not he's getting fucked.  That realism is very important to me; and honestly?  Unless a guy understands that, my motivation to play with him decreases significantly.  I mean, I love to see a hot, muscled, sexy guy bound in rope as much as the next guy; but unless you can convince me that it's at least a *little* bit real, I'm not that interested.

That's why I/we love kidnapping scenes.  That's why the thought of being grabbed off the street is so hot to me.  It makes the bondage REAL.  Even if it is just role-play, it becomes real.  That's the other reason that porn doesn't appeal to me; the odds that I will ever get to screw around with a chiseled man like on those sites is pretty slim to none.  I can't see myself ever being in those scenes.  But if I see an amateur video of a guy being tied up and toyed with...well...that's something I can imagine being a part of quite easily.

Couple this with the fact that the men are never gagged in profesional porn, and I just get bored.  (I wish Bound and Gagged would come back online; they always gagged their models!) Among my friends who are part of this fetish, gags seem to be a very common focal point.  This is, in my opinion, the root of why the bondage enthusiasts are not very proud of their fetish.  For me, just the feeling of the pressure of tape or a hand or a bandanna pressed against my mouth is enough to make me hard, regardless of whether or not I'm tied up.  I can't describe why; I've just always been that way.  I think that's a common theme among those of us into bondage, and I think we're all ashamed to admit it too.  It's the stupidest, most random part of the body to be an erogenous zone; and we know it.

And there you have it.  The bondage.  It doesn't matter how stupid anyone thinks my fetish that doesn't make any sense is.  Yes, I know that a white van and a ski mask isn't quite the sexiest thing in the world to a lot of people, but honestly?  I can't think of a better way to spend an afternoon than tied up and toyed with by a dom that knows his work. Bonus points if I didn't see it coming first.  

Usually when I tell someone that I get into bondage, their immediate response is, "Yeah, I'd love to tie you up and fuck you!"  They view the bondage as an adjunct to some otherwise very hot sex.  Not that sex is bad.  I certainly keep myself induldged.  But this is where a lot of my friends have struggled to  understand where I'm coming from. Some of them don't understand how you can get off in that position or else how you're supposed to get fucked while you're hanging from the ceiling or wrapped up from head to toe in duct tape.

These concerns are valid, and for the most part, I do believe there are two kinds of bondage kinksters.  Those like me, who've known this was a big part of them their whole lives.  There are also those who get into it later on and kinda get used to the idea, and it works for them.  And that's great!  The more the merrier.  I think most people that get into bondage later tend to be more interested in the bondage as an adjunct to sex.  Not that this is bad; by all means, people should absolutely be tying each other up and fucking.  But as I said at the beginning, I've realized how few of the born-enthusiasts there are.

I don't need to jizz to enjoy myself (although, it never hurts).  We're talking about two different kinds of sex.  The thing you can't forget is that the sex starts with the first knot, and ends when I can move again.

Kink is not multiplied vanilla

I feel we need to make a whole "Notice to the Public" about what kink is, and what kink is not.  

Please let me be clear though in the first place: I'm very sex positive.  I think that for the most part, if it feels good, you should not be inhibited to try it, experiment with it, etc (with the exception, of course, of committing sexual assault against a child or otherwise non-consenting victim).  I'm not a hater, and I think that if people like to have sex parties, then they should have them and enjoy them.

But just because I'm kinky doesn't mean I get into anything and everything.

My kink is somewhat well known in the Twin Cities.  I run around with a lot of kinksters and I haven't exactly been very discrete about what I like to do in the bedroom.  There are these guys who have these sex parties/orgies in Minneapolis once a month or every other month.  They're pretty well attended; I think their last one had 30 or 40 guys at it.  Most of the activities there are vanilla, regular sex.  And that's fine if it's what people like.

My irritation, however, is that lots of guys think that if you're into one kink even a little, then you must be into EVERYTHING.  Which, I must say, just isn't true.  Orgies annoy me.  Especially when they're all vanilla.  These guys do have a sling, yes, but I think they just have it for simplicity sake.  It's easier to get fucked on.  Fine.  It wouldn't be so bad, honestly, if the two guys who throw these parties wouldn't keep hounding me to show up to one.  No matter how many times I've mentioned that I'm not interested, they just assume it must turn me on because I get a little bit kinky.

Bottom line?  I'd rather have kinky sex with one person than vanilla sex with 20 people.

That's not just for me, either.  Kink belongs to the person who has it.  It's different for everyone.  Maybe these two guys have a thing for orgies and group sex.  Generally speaking, I don't.  Not everyone's kink is the same as your kink.  It's easy to forget that sometimes.

Consider this a public notice.

MAL - I hate Mondays.

Monday mornings after events are never easy.  I hate traveling for hours and hours to get home, but most importantly, I hate leaving all my friends behind.  I don't see you guys nearly often enough.  

I can still taste the beer in my mouth from last night.  I only slept for 3 hours (ish).  I'm all sore and fatigued from the scenes.  I'm looking rather disheveled as I'm sitting in Dulles right now.  I love this feeling though.  :)

Something amazing happened last night.  Well, actually, it happened about 6 hours ago.  There's an inherent truth about me - I can piss on anything.  Living or dead.  A toilet, a rock, a tree.......or a human.  Especially if it's two hot rubbered up boys and I've been drinking for a couple of hours.  Long story short, the tank was full.  I invited one guy up to a room and then that turned into several guys....well.....let's just say it was a very hot ending to MAL.  I don't really get into WS much, but even I will be remembering that scene fondly.

I'm gonna run for now though....more details later.  I am in desperate need of some orange juice to replace some electrolytes...

Spread

Spread your peanut butter.

Spread the love.

Spread your feet, Sir.

Spread it all around.

Spread the word!

Spread of scores.

Spread the sickness.

Spread your legs.

Spread your wings.

 

Thanks, Bicycler, for showing me I can fly.  I'm still sore and the ropeburn is still healing two and a half days later, you stud ;)

In other news, Gear Night at the Eagle was awesome...thanks for coming out everyone!

Things I Learned This Weekend

I only have a seasonal playspace.  I had to close for the summer because it was too fucking HOT in my attic and the a/c is busted up there.  Fortunately, the heat still works.  

Having a dedicated playspace in the house changes the whole atmosphere of a scene.  It's impossible to describe how much better playing in the attic is than playing in the bedroom.

I'm a messy dom.  I never clean up used gear, toys, etc. as I go along.  It makes for some pretty awesome aesthetics of "aftermath" at the end, but takes a while to reorganize the day after a visit.  

No matter how many times you've been around the block, it's important to remember the basics of a scene, including playing with someone you have a connection with, who knows and understands you, that you trust.  

Planning ahead makes all the difference.  Think BIG.  Think EPIC.  Dare to dream of the best scene you could ever create, and go for it.  Although making it up as you go along is fine most of the time, the anticipation you build for yourself and your partner makes it even better.

Things may look or sound more fun in photographs or videos than they actually are in reality.  True friends in kink explore uncharted territory together.  Kinksters with the right mutual chemistry can salvage a scene gone only slightly awry and still end it in one of the best orgasms you've had.

Never, ever say "never".  You may eventually do something you told yourself you'd have no part of, and surprise yourself at how incredibly HOT it turns out to be.

Experience should not be intimidating.  Be confident in who you are and what you like, and it will spew forth as pure sexual energy during a scene.  Lack of experience does NOT mean you're doomed to kink-failure.

Just as the old saying goes, "You never truly know someone," you never truly know yourself.  Don't be afraid to let yourself grow, change, and explore new territory.  Dig deep.  Find out who you are.  You won't lose hold of where you are now; everything will still be here when you get back, only you may be a more enlightened person in the end.  You might even surprise yourself and your dom, sub, or switch, but most kinksters like surprises like that.

Never apologize for your kinks; don't live up to standards that aren't yours.  With all the kinksters in the world, I guarantee that you are not alone in your kink, and there really is someone out there who's compatible with you just the way you are.

Shop for duct tape at Home Depot in the ducting/piping aisle, not the painting aisle.

Special thanks to MaleBndg for an incredible three days.  Hope you enjoyed Minnesota, bro.  You taught me a lot.  I'm gonna be floating on cloud nine for a few days from this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

GEAR NIGHT is this weekend at the Minneapolis Eagle.  Saturday, 9pm-2am.  See you there as I unwind.

Oh, and Facebook decided to delete my profile for "Tynan Fox", so I opened a "page" for myself on the site as a visual artist.  Seemed like the most appropriate thing.  Click the banner on the left and "like" me on there to keep up with status updates, etc.

~Tynan

Spirituality

I've never been much of the spiritual type.  Moreover, I've somewhat scoffed at people who claim to have or "understand" some alleged connection between kink and spirituality.

But I get it now.

I try not to let my two lives interconnect much.  I have a tendency to drop my profession from the moment I walk out of the hospital doors.  That's not to say that I don't like my job; on the contrary, I can't imagine doing anything else.  I put my heart and soul into my work, I have a true passion for my practice as an RN, but once the timeclock is punched, I go home.  I drop it all.  I move on with my life, and, more often than not, onto kinky weekend adventures.

HIPPA says I can't talk about my work.  I can understand that; I don't know that I would want my own story plastered all over the internet if I was ever in the hospital.  You'll have to excuse the lack of details I can actually write about.  Suffice it to say, I had a case from five or six months ago that was really tough.  Dealing with life and death issues with families, i.e., the decision to continue fighting or to withdrawl support and move to comfort measures only, is usually not too emotionally draining.  But never before had I seen a patient like J, so truly sad, so torn, so sorrowful that she wanted to end her life.

J wasn't getting any better.  She likely would spend the rest of her life in the hospital or a nursing home.  Her family loved her dearly - I could tell with everything they did.  But she didn't want to live this way.  And she didn't know how to tell them that.  Instead, she told ME this, at 2am, alone, while she was in tears.  All I wanted to do was hold her hand and cry with her, and let her know that it's alright, and I'd help her tell her family.  That she needs to do what she needs to do.

But when you're the nurse, you can't cry with your patients.  The moment that you shed that tear is the moment the patient, their family, and everyone they know loses faith in you, the hospital, the system, and life.  The nurse is supposed to be the confident, professional, caring, intelligent beacon of HOPE.  Patients and families look to nurses for direction, not for emotions.  Nurses are supposed to be guardians and pathfinders. 

Generally I don't get overly emotional about my work.  This particular morning, I was finding it rather hard to stuff my emotions behind that wall, but I did.  J's family was in the hospital around the clock.  I rounded them all up, and we had a talk, right then and there, among us all in my ICU at 2:30 in the morning.  I passed out kleenex like candy.  I facilitated the conversation.  And in the end of it all, I kept my shit together.  J passed away later that day.

I never let it in.  I left it all stuffed behind that wall.

Fast forward five or six months.  I'm at Inferno, the annual run of the Chicago Hellfire Club.  Due to....leathermen, I am not allowed to divludge many details about this event either.  Looking around like a kid in a candystore, I try to think of what I want done to myself.  Thoughts tumble through my head.  What I want done turns into what I need done.  Those bricks and concrete holding up that wall in my mind is getting rather heavy.

"I want to be flogged, Sir." 

I took off my shirt and climbed up onto the St. Andrew's Cross.  My Sir fitted me with wrist restraints and attached them to the top of the cross.  I leaned forward, resting my chest against the wood, exposing my back to it's ensuing punishment.   As the blindfold slipped down over my eyes, I thought to myself, "J, this one's for you."

It hurt like hell.  He flogged and flogged.  It was familiar this time, since I've had it done before.  Slowly, one by one, they started to hurt enough to make me scream.  Sir stopped for a moment and reached up to remove my restraints.  He could tell I was getting close to my limit.  "I don't want you to stop, Sir," I said.

"I don't want to break you, boy" he answered.

"I do, Sir."

He went back at it.  It didn't take much more, maybe 10 or 15 cracks at the most.  One last hard, loud thud against my back broke that wall crumbling down.  I screamed at the bottom of my lungs as that piercing fire cinged into my back.  I broke. Sir took me down from my restraints and held me.  Even though I was broken, I sobbed, "I don't want you to stop."  But stop we did.  I cried really, really hard, for J, for myself, and for my back.

I walked through those hospital doors tonight with a renewed sense of hope.  Not just for my patients, but for me. 

Maybe there IS something to be said for all this spirituality crap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My b-day pre-party and the Eagle on 9/11 were really really awesome.  Thanks to everyone of my friends who made the celebration extra special.  Inferno was an experience unlike any I've ever had.  More details to come.  It took me a while to recover from these events, so sorry for the delay.

~Tynan

Weekends in Minneapolis

What can I say?  I love to get up to Minneapolis on the weekends.  I've got some of the best kinky friends in the world.  I wasn't even up here to celebrate anything, but I felt like I was with all the awesome times.

Gear Night at the Eagle was Saturday.  I didn't do a whole lot of advertising or arm twisting, simply because of my work schedule.  But WHOA!  It was the BEST attended Gear NIght we've had yet!  There was easily about 150 HOT kinky guys in the underground.  So many so that it was difficult to move around at times (not that that is a problem!)  Special thanks to TrainerAndBoy and his partner for working so hard to motivate all the hot kinksters to show up, and thanks to them for being such good people - I'm looking forward to getting to know them more in the future.  And also looking forward to seeing the crowds get bigger and bigger and bigger on the 2nd Saturday gear nights!  There's a few pics from a pre-party we went to on my Facebook profile - go check it out, and see what you're missing at the MPLS Eagle.

My best friend in Minneapolis is a pup.  He's really the only true one around here that we can find.  I'm so happy for him because he finally figured out his pup name.  Everyone, please welcome PupTrigger.  It happened in his car.  Such a cute face when he found it felt right.  We then spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for some rubber for my run at MIR.

Speaking of which, I'm starting to see some results from working out.  I've been doing P90X.  It's been three weeks and I already see a huge difference.  It's not gimmicky!  If you need to get in shape, look into it.

And finally, I've been talking to local business about sponsorship for the competition.  Making a little headway.  And hopeful to have a local sponsor at MIR.  I really, really want the world to know that Minneapolis has kink, and I'd like to show just how awesome it is here.

Coming up: Next month's gear night is September 11th at the Minneapolis Eagle, which is right around my birthday.  So de facto, I'm making it into Gear Night/My Birthday Party!!!  Come on out, someone needs to give me 26 spankings.

Oh!  And check out Leatherati.  They've posted a new Issues column on "What is Leather?"  I submitted a post and they're still looking for others to submit as well.  Check them out - that's one of my favorite other leather blogs I read.

~Tynan

How to be a Stud...

...according to me.  Disagree?  Well, that's why it's according to me.

1)Be mysterious
My favorite leather cop, LeatherDehners is a prime example. He's been going to the Minneapolis Eagle for about ten years. He's an avid BDSM player and knows his craft well, and has a great playspace in his house. He often has guys over after meeting at the Eagle, and this is where the mystery comes in. You don't need to look up how to get to his house on Google Maps, becuase there's only one way to get there: tied up, gagged, and blindfolded in the back of his car. And that's how he drops you back off at the Eagle when he's done with you.

In 10 years, no one I can find at the Eagle knows where he lives, not even people who've been to his dungeon. To maintain that for 10 years!? Every good boy has a healthy sense of curiosity. That unknown about where you're going, that slight fear, that thrill, that rush....STUD. End of story.

2)Be sensual
One of the hottest scenes I have ever been in was also the most sensual. I was visiting Dakmaster's dungeon for a party, and I was finally getting to meet NixJohn. I arrived at the dungeon after him, and he happened to already be tied up in his hockey gear to a standing bondage frame in the basement/dungeon. When I arrived, Dak had me change into just my spandex shorts and boots, tied my wrists behind me, and blindfolded me. He led me downstairs, and told me to "get acquainted" with NixJohn.

Neither of us could see, but we were so nervous to finally meet one another. Breathing heavily, we spent a good amount of time exploring each other. The first thing I did was press myself up against him, which made him moan and struggle some...next, I found his neck, which I decided to kiss...

Dak kept switching the bondage positions around. We spent a good amount of time trying to "see" each other with our hands, lips, tongues...it was truly a magical, sensuous time. When we finally were allowed to see each other, we both decided to stay blindfolded for a while, like we were afraid to take them off. Amazing. And only a stud like Dak would think of doing something like that.

3)Be sexy
Let's face it; we're all a little bit shallow, no matter how much we try not to be. We all think it's wrong to judge based on appearences, but we all end up doing it anyway. That said, sexy can mean one thing to me and something very different to someone else. I'm sure that everyone in the world must be sexy to at least ONE other person out there. To me, lots of people are sexy. I have some rather varied tastes, and I think lots of guys are exceptionally sexy. But two guys were sexy enough to turn me on to something new.

BlackLeatherChazz is a stud in his leathers. I had always thought that the leather scene wasn't for me, because I was mostly into bondage. Then I met him, in person. I think the first time I saw him in leathers, my jaw hit the floor. I couldn't get over the look, the feel, the smell...My life changed drastically at that moment. Because of him, I now own a full set of leathers for myself. STUD.

Bicycler turned me on to the whole bondage scene in Minneapolis. He was one of the first guys I met when I moved up here from Missouri, for which I am ever thankful. And he's not too tough on the eyes, either. Tall, sexy voice, hairy, soft skin, athletic....and his bondage skills...well, you saw that suspension picture of me, didn't you? Need I say more?

4)Be confident
You can't show your studly self to others unless you truly feel you are such a stud. Just as important as knowing your shit is knowing when you know your shit. This is somewhere I struggle. I hold myself to standards which are likely too high; if I tie someone up in a group setting, I'm often told, "Wow. That's some amazing work." But I'm never satisfied. I always feel like it's not good enough or I could do better. I feel like my own bondage is substandard; group situation or not, I'm usually disappointed with my outcomes. Maybe I need to lower my standards of excellence and realize I DO know what I'm doing. Or maybe I just need to take a class.

I always strive to be more like YngMstrDetroit. He knows how to work over a boy. And he knows he knows how to work over a boy. His confidence shines through in every step, every scene, every slap with a flogger, every praise, every punishment, every order, every reward. He knows what's good for a boy, and what's not. It makes a boy feel safe and loved to know that Master knows best. I'm proud to call him my Sir.

5)Be humble
No one likes an asshole. There's too many of them in the world. While confidence is important, humility is equally important. It doesn't matter who you are, everyone has flaws. One who boasts their $100,000 playroom and their internally lit portable dungeon-in-a-box, or one who's goal is just to try to bang every guy on Recon is just going to turn me off. The most studly guys I know don't flaunt their work. They're quietly advertising, and they know their stuff.

MaleBndg is a perfect stud who didn't let his ego run away with him. He's very skilled, he's got the tools and the talent to make for one of the best scenes of your life (as I've experienced firsthand). I love him because he doesn't make a huge production of himself. He knows it only takes a few things to drive a boy crazy....and he does it well, without any shiny flashy lights or "look at me" advertising. Fortunately, he lets others do that for him ;)

I'm so fortunate to have met some of the most studly kinksters out there. I could have listed even more, but I can only type for so long. Thanks for the valuable life lessons you've given me, as I strive to become a stud myself.

~Tynan

Road to MIR

I've decided to go for it.  

Too many of my friends have told me they thought it would be a good idea.  In fact, MNHot1 told me that he would bite me if I didn't do it.  Looks like I'm locked in, so to speak.  

I'm excited.  I haven't had a really big project like this to obsess over for a while, so the big guns are being pulled out(I can get somewhat neurotic about these things; I don't like to do a half assed job). Planning will be everything.  The research phase has already begun, the workout and diet routines have already been decided upon.  Yes, I'm going through the nursing process for this.  The Assessment and Diagnosis phases have already been executed, the Planning phase is currently being carried out, and the Intervention phase will begin next week.

I'm going to try to speak with someone at the Eagle about sponsorship.  I don't know quite how that would work, but hey, it's worth a shot, right?

Anyone out there who can assist with rubber fashion (will need to get new outfits), presentation ideas, interview tips, etc. is very welcome to provide them.

Not that I'm disappointed at all with the rubber scene in MPLS.  As you can see, rubber makes quite an appearance at Gear Night...

 

~Tynan
 

Hero

Been a while since I've updated.  Life's kept me too busy.  What have I been up to?  Work.  A play party.  Or two.  A gear night.  I've met a friend, I've lost a friend.  I've taken pictures, been photographed, drank way too much beer, and slept alone in my bed.  It's been a busy few weeks.  

Amidst the chaos, I managed to listen to the latest podcast from Dart's Domain.  He interviews the man responsible for the "Leatherboy" movement and provides the audience with some insight into that community.  Vincent Andrews is his name, and he also wrote the Leatherboy's Handbook.  I particularly enjoyed the end of the interview where he details why he no longer considers himself to be a Leatherboy.  It was a fascinating interview.  Even with all of my experience, I've learned I still look to these communities, that is, the "Leather", "Leatherboy", "Daddy", or "Bear" communities as a spectator for the most part.  

I just feel I don't belong.

That's not to say that I wish I belonged.  I find myself rather indifferent, really.  As long as everyone present and accounted for is having a good time, then that's the most important bottom line.  I feel like my identity is so mutable, I could be a leatherboy, a rubberboy, a fetishist, a bondeur, a master, a slave, a boy, a boi, a guy, a Fox, or a superhero.  All of course, dependent on my mood, and the atmosphere surrounding me at that time.  What's that old adage?  When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

I think that if it makes you happy, DO IT.  I want to experience what it's like to be a part of every one of those communities, and more.  I'm curious.  I want to learn what they're all like.  I wish that everyone in these communities felt this way, but I am constantly reminded how much all of these communities adhere to those old, rigid standards that don't allow for deviation or exploration into other territories.  You have to maintain your assigned identity until you're allowed to move on to your next one!

I witnessed this even at the Eagle on the last gear night.  (Yes, I was so busy I didn't even have time to post an announcement).  The night was alright.  Much smaller than the April event, but then again, I wasn't inviting people.  My friends and I had fun there, and met some fun new people too!  The bouncer, however, was only reluctantly letting people into the Dresscode-area who didn't have boots on.  One of my friends was in sneakers (his fetish) along with a neoprene shirt, and he almost didn't let him in.

I can understand that.  I will be the first to admit that I may push the boundaries on "Gear Night" as I've been referring to it.  After all, the bar does, in fact, still refer to it as "Leather Night".  The thing that is glaringly obvious about younger, new-generation kinksters, however, is this same attitude I described above.  There's just no rules.  There's no standards or quotas and there are certainly no expectations.   There's just horny guys, with various fetishes.  

But one guy last Saturday was wearing a fetish the Eagle hadn't seen yet, I believe - a wetsuit.  VERY hot.  He that he had coordinated a new event with the Eagle.  It's to be entitled "Alter Ego" night.  A strict dresscode will be enforced on Friday June 4th, and the only ones to be allowed in will be those dressed in their favorite costume of a super hero or super villain.  

 What an idea!  And even though turn out may be small for the first go, if 20 people can get their arms twisted into going, it will be a success.  Personally, I will be there in my Robin costume. You can bet on it.

But the best part about the whole thing is that it's happening at the Minneapolis Eagle in the first place. Some young kinkster came up with some crazy new idea for a fetish night, and the bar owner was more than receptive, hell, was even willing to advertise it for a night and give it a chance. Even when his own staff may not be so accustomed to people even not wearing BOOTS let alone dress like heroes! To be willing to drop the ranks, let go of the past for a second, and give an idea from the New Guard a try? It's so heartening to know that there are those out there, ready for us.

That man, whoever he is, is MY hero.

~Tynan

Uninhibited

A couple weeks ago, one of my friends (Bicycler) said a something to me which is rather flattering.  Normally, I'm not one to toot my own horn, but this one made me think.  Quite a bit, really.  He told me that he admires the fact that, as far as kink is considered, I am so uninhibited.  Nothing stops me from exploring my desires.

I never thought about inhibitions with exploring kink.  It never crossed my mind.  When he first mentioned this, my first reaction was to think, "Why would I be inhibited to explore this?"  And then it dawned on me.  As Bob Wingate says on his blog when discussing a post I had made, "I love the way young people today not only take their bondage horniness for granted but are wonderfully comfortable with it. How times have changed!"  

When I was growing up, I lived in a rather conservative Lutheran household.  I was sent to parochial school until 7th grade.  My parents didn't even have CABLE in the house (first time I had that was when I left for college).  I was a dejected, straight-A nerd with few friends.  When I started having fantasies about men, I didn't know what it meant.  I had no idea.  I knew what the word "gay" meant, and I knew that it was a sin, but I wasn't a sinner, so fantasizing about men meant I wasn't gay.

I turned 13 and started figuring out the truth of the matter.  The abridged version is that I went through about three years of unhealthy self-hatred over what was going on with me.  There were many, many sleepless nights of praying, crying, and trying to "fix" myself and stop thinking about men in that way, culminating in a failed suicide attempt.  Finally when I was 16 or 17 I was able to give in, and accept that this is how it's going to be no matter what I do, and I should probably just get used to it.

Although I didn't start fantasizing about men in particular until I hit puberty, I was fantasizing about bondage ever since I was a child.  A YOUNG child.  I remember the first time.  I remember being about 5 or 6 years old, in the car, on family vacation, doing a coloring book.  The picture on the last page of the book was of three cowboys, tied back to back, completely covered in rope from ankles up to their necks, all three mouths stuffed with bandannas.  I couldn't quit staring at it.  I never thought to ask myself or anyone else "why".  And I wasn't ashamed of it either.

This theme has continued on throughout my entire life.  Even when I was questioning my sexuality and I hated myself for liking men instead of women, and through all the tears and prayers, I never once apologized for liking bondage.  I never thought to.  It was natural to me.  It was something I craved, something I wanted, and something I wanted to get, very, very badly.

When I say that the bondage is a part of me, I mean that.  It's the only thing I've ever known to be true about myself for literally, as long and as far back as I can remember.  It's so ingrained that I don't know what I would be like today without it. 

It's comforting to know that the fox truly was born inside of me.

I thanked my friend for his wonderful compliment, and gave him a hug.  It's such a great thing for someone to say, and a wonderful thing to hear.  I wish everyone felt they could explore their kinks without fear, or shame or guilt.  I know the world isn't quite there yet, but I think one day, it will be.  I smiled for a moment and thought about how truly blessed I am in life.

Then he suspended me in his basement.

 

~Tynan

Jumping In

For the past few months, I've been encouraging guys, through this blog and online, to go to the Eagle for Gear night every 2nd Saturday.  I've always thought to myself that guys need a "jumping off" point, so to speak, and this would be a great event.  It's been busier and busier for the past couple of months, and I'm happy to see some more socialization return to the leather community in Minneapolis.  (This past Saturday, of course, was no exception.)  It's also brought me to consider my own involvement, and my own "jumping off", so to speak.

I've been being tied up since I was 18 years old.  I guess I got started early, but living in the middle of nowhere in Missouri for college somewhat put a damper on my exploration.  Now I'm 25, and when people ask me how long I've been into kink, I say seven years.  Seven years can mean a lot, or it can mean only a little if its movement has been at a glacial pace.  Has mine?

In means of practical, hands on experience, I would say "no".  I think I can pull my own weight in that department (but that's for another post I'm working on).  In terms of history, knowing who is who, reading the works of others, and my own socialization?  I would say "yes", the pace has been rather glacial.

I am forever impressed at the amount of leather I learn about in the world around me.  Just yesterday, while in Minneapolis, I picked up the latest issue of Lavender Magazine.  One of the main articles featured on the front cover caught my eye: "Leather Life becomes Leather Bound".  Upon further inspection, I found that apparently, the magazine has been running a column on leather lifestyles for the past 15 years.  And in a triumphant move by the columnist, he's finally publishing highlights of it into a book.  It looks promising, and like something I would actually read.  But how could I not have known about this sooner?  Seriously, 15 years??

Some days I feel I need to open up my eyes, look around, and dive more into the history of our community.  Perhaps I should pick up a copy of the Leatherman's Handbook and read it, even if just for historical purposes.  There's so much I feel I don't know which I should know if I'm going to continue to write all the time.

Anyone have any suggestions?

In other news....My catsuit ripped.  Again.  

But it was worth it.  I've had the pleasure of getting to know RankInSF better, and had the opportunity to dive into some more hardcore rubber play.  That's really not something that's easy to find, even on the coasts where the population may be more plush with rubberists.  But I found it, right here in Minneapolis.

After a couple drinks, we started to loosen up.  I was looking at some of his gear.  It was no secret that either one of us was horny - clearly, I was there with a purpose that night.  I can't remember if it was his suggestion or my own drunken horniness, but at one point, I lubed up and slipped into my catsuit.  What came next is somewhat of a blur.  And not because of the alcohol (completely).  I don't quite remember what order things went on in, but I do know over a slow course of the next hour or so I was gradually placed into progressively more bondage than I have been in in a long time.  The best part about it?  Nearly all my restraints were made of rubber.

I've never been encased like that before in my life.  It must have been about seven or eight layers without breaking a sweat.  The hoods, the boots, the gags, the strips of latex, the cuffs, the binders...and all of this while somehow suspended to the ceiling?  Seriously.  A blur.  

It hasn't been any secret to myself, or to others, that I love rubber.  I fell in love with it the moment I ever first laid eyes on pics of it on a website.  And to finally have all of this?  I entered a new kind of subspace I haven't been to yet.  It was a very "comfortable" place, to be sure.  I remember whimpering quite a bit as he abused me in various ways, but never really a whimper to stop.  Maybe out of.....gratuity?  It was certainly different from the time I described when I got flogged, but still, very, very submissive.

And somewhere along the line, my catsuit ripped.  Fortunately, RankinSF said he could fix it for me, for which I am ever thankful.  Still, it may be cheesy and symbolic, but I think the scar from this repair will be one which I am not likely to forget.

~Tynan

February

It's been nearly a month since I've made a blog post.  It's been about that long since I've even FELT like writing anything.

February was a rather dreary month.  The cold and the wind made me really unmotivated to do anything.  That, and my personal life has been rather dramatic lately.  Perhaps so much so that even writing has seemed like more of a chore than a release.  Anyone who knows me knows that I really don't like drama.  Work has been nuts, I've been working a lot of overtime.  My personal life has been nuts for various reasons.  The emotional roller-coaster I've been on has worn me completely out in my spare time.  It's all very exhausting, and I hate it.  I'm ready to get back to a more level, even state.

Things will clear up in time.

I did find time and energy to go to the Minneapolis Bondage Club meeting for the first time.  It's basically just a play party at this guy's house.  Lots of fun though.  Nice guys.  Lots of talent there.  Finally got a chance to meet BNDGMASTER.  Let's just say his skills live up to his profile name.  :)

Enough about crappy February.  The snow is melting in my back yard.  I can *almost* see all of my walk way out to my garage.  A new, warmer, drier month is on it's way in.  Onto the future.  

Gear Night is this Saturday, March 13th at the Eagle.  As I said earlier, I'll be there in Leather this time.  :)  I will likely NOT be competing in the hot boots contest.  The only pair of boots I have are really cheap.  I need to get some REAL ones yet.  

I hope to see you there!

~Tynan

Make it Count

Usually, there is a standard response I get from guys online when they ask me where I'm from.  I tell them the city and state, and more often than not, the answer I get is, "Why do you live out in the middle of nowhere?"

I really hate to think that Minneapolis, being the 8th largest city in the whole country, really makes this the middle of nowhere.  I think it only feels that way because there is essentially NOTHING to the West until you get to the coast, a bunch of lakes to the East, nothing but farmland for much of the South, and the forests of Canada to the North.  So I suppose yes, I am in the middle of nowhere.  

Yes, it does get difficult sometimes, especially in the kinky facets of life.  Some days I yearn for a New York gay/kinky lifestyle where you can walk out your front door and find it two blocks down the street, or better, two floors down in your own building.  But then I realize how much I enjoy grass and how much I enjoy what I pay for rent, and then suddenly, I don't regret living here. 

Guys ask me how often I get to do bondage.  Despite popular belief, I really only get to play around once or twice a month.  It's not bad, I don't feel like I'm really missing it much or really, really wishing I had it more.  And of course, I've tied/been tied by some of the best.  Which I think is ironic.

I've never lived or even been to New York or San Fran, but in my humble opinion, I think that us Midwestern kinky gays aren't so....dramatic, so to speak.  That statement might make me a bit of a hypocrite, being that I have these incredibly dramatic artistic photographs of myself on this site and on my profiles online.  But the point I'm getting at is that I think that having a smaller, more spread out community has forced us to keep from taking our scenes for granted, so that when we get into it, we REALLY get into it.  I think it's the enthusiasm that really brings the scenes and the kink to life out here, in the middle of nowhere.  I'm sure that if my heart was pounding and I just *HAD* to get to one of the coasts to meet the best dom I've ever heard of and do a scene with him, then I could probably make it happen. 

The fact that I really don't have that drive indicates to me that we do a pretty good job on our own.  I'll get to those cities one day, and when I do, I'm sure I'll have a blast.  But I feel like it can wait until I have both the time and money to do such a thing.

In fact, one of my friends just moved BACK to Minneapolis after living in San Francisco for several years.  He's told me two things to validate this.  One: as much kink as there is in SF, where you can find it by walking out your front door, there's an awful lot of mediocrity, and not a lot of truly mindblowing people there.  Two: having kink in his life less often has brought back a sense of motivation.  When you get used to large amounts of mediocrity, you forget what it's like to have those mind blowing scenes.

And in the Midwest, you have to travel a lot of the times to get to somewhere where the kink IS.   As another friend put it, "I don't understand you Midwestern kink-epicenter types.  It's like you guys say, 'No beach?  Let's just tie each other up.'"  There's some truth there.  When you have to arrange travel and ride in a car or fly for three or four hours to get somewhere to spend a night, a day, a weekend, or whatever to do the things you get your rocks off thinking about every day, there's one mantra that I think we all tend to share.

Make it count.

And I do.

~Tynan

Compatibility

Maybe a better title would be "Nirvana".

MAL was a blast.  I didn't really advertise that I would be there ahead of time, mostly because of the circumstances under which I got to go.  My roommate was a guy I've been chatting with an exchanging e-mails for an entire year.  It was an amazing time, for one simple reason.

He gets me.

When you're first getting into kink, it's easy to seek out a "generic" experience, so to speak.  I remember my first experiences, and some of my favorite parts of a bondage scene were there, of course.  Gags, tape, rope, etc.  And I loved those experiences, and they really turned me on.  I even had the incredible luck to be mummified in one scene when I was 19.  Those of you who know me know that I'm really into gags/being gagged, restrictive bondage, sensory deprivation, and (to a limited extent) breath control.

I've always been able to find guys to play with who will do that to me.  That's never been a problem, and as long as the bondage is true, I'll likely be enjoying myself.  But life, and kink, are full of details.  We all know what we like, and we can get incredibly detailed about it.  This guy I was with understood all of that.  It was almost as if he was a mirror of myself.  

Particularly, he understood quite well what the feeling of duct tape being pressed over my mouth does to my dick.

Of course there are other things there too.  Ones which are more...subtle, we'll say.  But we were definitely on each other's wavelength.  And the thing that I've come to learn over the years now is that either you have it, or you don't.

We both have had those same feelings/urges/yearnings for the same kinds of bondage even since we were each kids.  But more than just the bondage in general, but all of those details.  It made the scenes were were a part of absolutely amazing.

Nirvana, you could say.

~Tynan

PS: I plan on really pushing myself to try to post at least once per week.  Some of the posts may suck, but bear with me.  ;)

Playspace

It's something I've always wanted, but I've never had.  I think it's something that most kinksters want.

Those of you who know me personally know that I moved just the week before MIR.  I haven't changed cities or jobs, just moved to a different (and cheaper) place within Rochester.  Instead of an attached townhouse or an apartment, it's an entire house.  It's a rather nice deal, it's even more space than what we had.  While we were first touring the house to decide if we wanted to rent it, the owner showed us around the first two floors and then took us up to the attic.  It's finished, carpeted, mostly ceilinged, has a stairwell, heat and a/c, electrical outlets, and a lot of space.  There's even a couple desks and some small closets.  You can stand upright in most of it.  We went up the stairs to the attic, my partner was right behind me, just staring at me as I looked around the place with a bit of a smile on my face.  When we reached the top steps he instantly started laughing at me, and I didn't even have to look at him.  We didn't even have to talk about it.  I know he's laughing at me because he knows what I'm thinking, and I can own up to it.  I'm not ashamed of what I'm thinking.  

Needless to say, once we decided to rent, I swiftly laid my claim on the attic over him.  "Babe, you can do whatever you want with the rest of the house for all I care.  The attic is MINE."

And so it has been.  The basement of the house isn't all that bad either.  It was finished at one time, but the floors and walls had to be taken down due to some water damage that occurred there.  The lighting is more mood-lightingesque, and the space would "look" more like a dungeon, but to be completely honest, I've never been a fan of basement dungeons.  Concrete floors, cold, damp air...just is generally an anti-hard on for me.  When I play, I need to be WARM.  You can understand, then, why I was so ecstatic about the attic.  

The past week or so I've really been spending a lot of time working on it.  It obviously hasn't been lived in or used much in quite some time.  It took a lot of dusting, vacuuming, and cleaning to get it to not smell like my grandma's old house.  And besides, if you have allergies, why would you want to start a sneezing fit in the middle of a scene anyway?

Even better is the fact that there were a couple of old twin beds abandoned and left in the attic.  The landlord says he doesn't know where they came from, and neither did the previous renter.  So I put one together, frame, boxsprings, and all.  I unpacked all my bondage gear into the drawers and put my kink clothing into the closets.  I hooked up and old TV/DVD player and stereo we previously never used for porn and/or mood music.  I've also been working on some lighting for it.  Finally, I took some prints of kinky pictures from my photographer in Iowa, framed them up, and hung them on the walls.

And in the end, I love it.  It's my space.  It may be rather ugly (green shag carpet?), and it still needs some work (ceilings falling apart?) but it's still mine.  It's my first playspace I've ever had to call my own.  It's the first time in my life that I've actually unpacked my bondage gear from my bags...and left it unpacked in some orderly fashion rather than a pile on the floor waiting to be cleaned up.  The only real dilemma left to solve is this: if it's on the top floor of the house, can you still call it a "dungeon"?  "Playspace" seems more appropriate.  Thoughts?

Oh, and I got to break it in this past weekend with a spandex-loving pocket gay from Des Moines.  SUCH a hot time with that kinky little fuck.  Even though the activities would have been the same no matter WHERE we played, for some reason, this felt different.  A "better" sort of different.  More secure, more "mine".  It was hard for me to figure out how to describe it, then it hit me.

The fox in me finally has a place to call home.

~Tynan

Why?

That's something I went around and around in circles about for years.  Literally, years.  This is such a weird, strange, obscure, crazy part of my life.  Why is it so appealing?  What is it about all these activities and all these events that really brings its joy?  What is the appeal?

For a long time, I thought that since I couldn't come up with an answer, it meant I was doing something wrong.  But then a while ago, I heard a great analogy on a kinky pod cast that really made me stop to think about it.

Chew on this.  Think about black licorice.  There's some people out there who enjoy it, there's some people out there who hate it.  And there's a few in the middle who are take it or leave it.  But the ones who enjoy black licorice are in the minority, and people who don't like it often think these people might be weird because it tastes so gross.  But for those of you out there who DO like black licorice, have you ever stopped to think about WHY you like it?

Of course, I mean beyond the simple, "Because it tastes good."  A similar thing could be said about kink.  "Because it's fun."  Of course, most of us stop here.  We don't take the time or effort or energy to determine why black licorice tastes good to some people.  We don't analyze brain patterns and their associations with taste buds or think about why it only tastes good to some people and not others.  It's simply a preference some have that others do not.

So if we don't do it with black licorice, or anything else in life, why do we do it with kink?

Perhaps we shouldn't.  When I learned this, I stopped.  It brought a sense of peace to my neurotic brain.  We don't always have to know WHY we like or enjoy what we like.  We don't always have to be so critical of our preferences.  We really CAN just relax and enjoy ourselves.

The why is not the fun question to ask.  In our kinky parts of life, I now simply challenge myself and others to answer one other simple question.

How are we going to make this happen? ;)

~Tynan

Odds and Ends

As many of you know, I work night shifts.  My standard week is three nights, 7pm-7:30am.  I like it because I like the work on night shifts, but I also like having four days off every week without having to use any vacation time.

Unfortunately, I've become nocturnal.  Unless I have a reason to be awake during the day (like I did this weekend), I'm staying awake all night and asleep all day.  My "normal" sleep routine has now become 7:00am until 2 or 3pm.  I really don't know if I like this.  I don't really like being up all night when the rest of the world is asleep.  I want to be able to be awake and functioning during my days off when the light is out.

However, as I noted this weekend, it makes it a LOT easier to stay up all night and party if I usually just don't sleep at night.  ;)

I don't know, what do you guys think?  Should I switch back to days for a couple weeks and see what happens or should I just hang in there with what I'm doing? 

On a side note, I'm thinking of delving into some rubbercraft.  I say this simply because my Robin outfit needs some alterations and I want to try to do them myself.  I'm not typically all that handy, but I'm gonna give it a go.  Will keep you updated on THOSE outcomes. 

~Tynan

MIR

.....was awesome.  This was my second, and it was even better than the first.  Every one was nervous about the new venue, from the coordinators to the participants.  In the end though, I think we all loved it.  Everyone of us.  The venue was huge, with tons of space, and great vendors, and plenty of demos.  I managed to scrounge up the cash for some new gear; I got a new rubber singlet as well as a couple accessories for my rubber Robin outfit (which I wore to the Cellblock on Friday night).

In all, having more space made it more of a community affair for friends to bond, discuss, share, and relax.  The weather couldn't have been better either.  Temps in the 60s with the sun out in Chicago in November?  You can't ask for better than that!

A very special thanks and shout out to my posse that helped me have a very special time this weekend.  Those included BoundinRubber, Latex05 and his partner Puck, NovaUnderarmor, Pup Zeus, and a pleathora of others. 

This event was exactly what I needed.  I feel....recharged, so to speak.  I haven't posted in a couple weeks for two reasons: I've been busy with overtime at work, and I've been moving to another house in town.  Between those two activities, I haven't had much time to work on this, but now that I'm starting to get settled in the new place, I'm sure I'll be posting again.  But when I'm under that kind of stress anyway, it's tough for me to be kinky at the same time.  I think I needed a break anyway. 

After I missed out on IML this year, I was bummed out, and have been ever since.  I missed seeing lots of friends who went, and I missed learning that side of the community.  I was so looking forward to it and I was CRUSHED when I found out I couldn't go.  But MIR this year gave me a jump start.  It reminded me of the "why".  

It made me remember how truly lucky I am, reminded me that I have a great life, and I have no reason to get down on myself for what I don't have or what I'm stuck with.  I think my favorite part of my weekend was after the play party on Saturday night.  It was an amazing party in the basement of The Jackhammer bar in Chicago, known as the Hole (how appropro).  We wore rubber under some regular clothes for the transportation, so we had to strip and check our backpacks at the bar.  There were hundreds of guys down there, all rubbered up (gear was required for entry) in a hot, steamy, sweaty mess.  Without revealing too many details, I ended up making several new friends as well as doing a great scene with a certain pup (never saw that one coming, but my god, no regrets what so ever). 

I was down in the Hole until 3am.  NovaUA and I finally decided to head out for the night.  We walk back upstairs to the bar, me wearing a black rubber wrestling singlet and boots, him wearing a rubber yellow-striped black surf suit and boots.  Imagine our surprise when the entire upstairs was just a sea of A&F gay boys. 

Not a lick of rubber anywhere in sight!

Not that it mattered at that point.  We marched through the crowd laughing and making fun of the gawkers, and winking at the ones who were actually interested.  We got our packs back and dropped them to the floor in the middle of the floor of the bar.  That's when I noticed this one tall, cute, vanilla gay boy just staring at us in our rubber.  It was this really innocent, curious, yet turned on stare.  His mouth slightly agape.  He had a drink in his hand that he had totally forgotten about, his gaze was just frozen in utter amazement as he watched us laughing and talking as we put our clothes back on right there.  We headed out the door to get a cab, and I looked over my shoulder back at him, just to see him still staring, and I caught him mouthing the words, "That's so awesome."

To steal a quote from one of my best friends' comment on this story, I love hearing the grinding sound of a paradigm shifting. :D

~Tynan

Impression

I've wondered a lot for the past few months about what others really think of me.  I have a feeling, in many facets of my life, that people don't take me seriously related to my appearance.  I feel this happens both at work and in my kink life every once in a while. 

At work, it's because I look so young.  People think I must have just gotten out of school, I have no experience, and I must not have a clue as to what I'm doing.

In the kink world, I know I'm not taken seriously for a variety of reasons.  Perhaps some of them are valid.  There is a lot of old-guard leather stuff that I don't know much about.  But then again, I've been in this scene for more than just a few years now and I feel as though I still know at least SOMETHING.  That should be respected. 

Sometimes it's funny.  I was visiting the Chicago Hellfire Club once, I think it was the first time I was there.  I remember I went to sign the release form saying that I know what I'm going to be seeing and I know what I'm subjecting myself to.  I read over quickly because I had a good idea of what was going to be happening.  I went to sign the bottom, and the guy at the counter put his hand down over the page.  I looked up at him, and he was looking at me, and just asked, "Do you know where you are???"

Of course I knew where I was!  Just because I'm dressed preppily and I don't have any tattoos or piercings and my head isn't shaved and I'm not 50 years old, hairy, and overweight doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two about kink.

Needless to say, that was a very fun night.  :D  But the question still remains - how do I get my peers to NOT underestimate me?