Rope Practice

Rope practice, one of my favorite monthly events, happened today. No matter what I feel like beforehand, it always enlivens my spirit. I love the energy and sharing that happens there. Each of us has something different to offer, a different view or bit of knowledge and at practice it is offered freely and eagerly. Each one of us has a unique style and approach to bondage and when those styles are brought together, the result is a lot of laughter and some amazing experience.

Every time, rope and amazing rope artists are the band-aid for my spirit.

This Is Me

I had the opportunity to work with an amazing presenter recently. I walked in to the room, armored and full of trepidation. Like a knight wading into war, I came prepared for a religious battle and I had on every piece of armor I could muster. As the weekend continued, I was put at ease by her open and genial nature. I explored the deepest, scariest parts of myself and discovered strengths and facets I didn't even know existed. I am grateful to this woman and treasure the experience. 

I am still processing but will elaborate later. This is my journey and I accept all of the pieces of myself. The good, the bad and the unknown.

My Leather Journey

This is a very different post than my usual. I have recently done a lot of reading on Leather history and have become inspired by those who have come before me in this journey. Here is the paper I wrote after having read the book Leather Folk.

As I was reading this book, I found myself more and more impassioned. I discovered my heart gripped by the stories and the dates contained within them. My mind started putting the dates together with the history I actually learned in history classes and I began to wonder at all of the things my education missed. I began a simple timeline in my mind comparing leather history with civil rights and the VietNam war and realized how much everything overlapped. In 1949, while the first photos of genes were being taken, Dr. Kinsey published his groundbreaking book "Sexual Behavior". It became more and more fascinating to me how much change, turmoil and uprising were taking place- all with different groups and at the same time. I began to wonder if the plight of the gay population might have been more in the forefront had the world not been in a state of chaos- or was the world being in chaos a catalyst for demand for change?

I allowed my mind to imagine myself in the midst of the chaos. I let myself be the people who had so inspired me in this moment. I was a black man, desperate and angry; a soldier, terrified and bitter; and a gay leatherman, brimming with ideals, passions and pain. In my mind, it is the year 1954 and the segregation of schools is being declared unconstitutional. As the black population celebrates this victory, the first gay motorcycle club- The Satyrs- is being created. I found myself becoming excited and immersing my imagination in the excitement, anger and fear of the time. A year later, the women rise up and demand to be heard. Rosa Parks refuses to move to the back of the bus and the Daughters of Billitis, the first lesbian organization in America is formed in San Francisco. The previously downtrodden and abused minorities begin standing up, taking action, and realizing that they can make a difference. In 1957, 9 brave black students hold hands and walk into Little Rock Central High School while the world listens by their radios. Meanwhile, the first artwork by Tom of Finland appears in a magazine, the Navy concludes that homosexuals are not a security risk and London decriminalizes homosexual acts. A year later, Oedipus MC- the second gay motorcycle club in the US is founded, and Chuck Renslow created The Gold Coast, the first leather bar. My mind reels as I imagine the excitement which must have hung in the air as Martin Luther King delivers his now famous "I Have A Dream" speech in 1963. I picture the world watching with a mixture of amazement, horror and excitement. The Civil rights movement moves on, marching and passionate- taking the world and making them watch as it unfolds. Amidst all of the chaos, the gay population is fighting a war all their own- they face brutality, non-acceptance and hatred but march on, indefatigable. They fight against every sector of the population as they search for acceptance and basic human rights. My heart is racing as I read this book, my mind eager for more stories and feeling a connection with those who fought for themselves, their loved ones, and all who would follow them. My mind is racing with dates and facts as I begin to put together the history I learned in school and the unspoken, often hidden history that so captivates me now. The Civil rights movement becomes more violent as Malcolm X emerges, the anger of the oppressed growing more urgent and a year later, this angry trailblazer is assassinated and a new source of chaos emerges as the Vietnam war begins in 1965. Anger erupted from all fronts as the Black Panthers are created, Martin Luther King is assassinated, JFK is assassinated, the Zodiac Killer strikes and the Tet offensive devastates the military. Time magazine declares 1969 as "The Year of the Newly Militant Homosexual" as the gay leather scene erupts. The Gay Activist Alliance and The Gay Liberation Front are founded in New York City. The Stonewall Riots finally make the world stand up and notice as the gay population fights back and only two months away in the same state of New York, the peaceful hopefuls gather at Woodstock.

Now the gay population had seen the benefit fighting back. They were learning, as the Civil rights movement did, that fighting back was the way to accomplish a goal. The first gay pride marches took place in LA, Chicago, and New York in June to commemorate the Stonewall riots, The Hellfire Club was founded and gay male iconography began to change. Gay male ideals were becoming more masculine, stronger and muscular. Anger was rampant on all fronts- Vietnam veterans threw over 700 medals on the west steps of the Capitol building and separatists watched in horror as busing was upheld as a viable method for school integration. True to form and always unquenchable, the gay population established the now famous Catacombs and opened up gay leather bars in Philadelphia, San Francisco, Kansas City and Berlin. The first woman, Cynthia Slater, was allowed into the Catacombs and changed the gay community forever while Harvey Milk took on the world fighting for the rights of homosexuals everywhere.

The question of power permeates this book. Scott Tucker wrote, "Power takes countless forms, but some purists pretend that only tyrants and mass murderers would choose to play with power". I believe this statement is the embodiment of, not only the gay movement, but M/s, sports, politics and even daily life. He speaks of power with a reverence, saying " Power can be refracted through play like light through a prism.. just as I can't imagine a world without light, I can't imagine a world without power. Power doesn't simply oppress people; it also empowers them to act in freedom." The stories of courage I read here inspire me; the testaments to personal power embolden me. I, with all of the benefits of a modern woman, can take the experiences, passions and courage of these brave people who came before me and use them to fortify my own personal power. I am in awe of these brave people. Though I never met them, I know them because they live within me and my community. I aspire to leave a leather legacy that will be an inspiration to those who follow me- to let my own power shine through, unfettered and passionate.

I revisit these events as I write here because I believe they are tied together. I weigh the variables in my mind and wonder if, without one historic event, the result would change. Did the existence of Martin Luther King cause a downtrodden homosexual to have a dream worth fighting for as well? Did the bravery shown at Stonewall inspire Vietnam veterans to protest their unwilling participation in a war they didn't believe in? I believe the true lesson here is that courage begets courage and change inspires growth. May we always have, not only those with the courage to lead us, but may we also have the courage to lead ourselves. May I have courage. May I have passion. May I have power.

Denver Pride

I Love Pride.

I love how all of the differences between us bind us together and how deeply our bond grows when we march together. I value the kinship which brings together the leathermen, the puppies, the drag queens, the lesbians, the queer folk, homosexuals, bisexuals, pansexuals and everyone in between.

This Pride, we stood for something even bigger than all of this. We marched with the symbol of HIV neutrality, a red plus and a minus sign,  painted upon our bodies. Some of us marked our arms, others marked those beautiful, round asses framed scantily by leather, others painted bare chests and backs- but we all stood together. We supported our friends and family in their fight to end the stigma of HIV, to have the freedom to speak openly of their status without fear of judgment and to have the freedom to live and love as they choose. I love these people and support them unconditionally. They are my friends, family and the people I love most in this world and I will fight for their freedoms with everything I have. I am proud of their bravery, their fight and their dedication.

This is Pride for me. The Pride I feel in my heart as I march with my brothers and sisters of every race, religion, sexual identity and status. We are one.

I get feedback too! Here's a letter from a session I had:

                                     
Dear Miss Mina,
  I don't have any friends on this board, but I do remember you vividly. My first session (and I met my ex a little after, so pretty much my last) was with you and you were amazing. The talent you used with the ropes you tied me with were something else. 
  You got me in the zone so quick that I think you thought I wasn't doing well, but I was just in heaven (let me spell this out - HEAVEN) with the butt pounding that you gave me. When you pulled my hair and said that I was your bitch--it was incredible. More than a year after, it still sends shivers down my spine and gives me the shakes. One of the best experiences of my life.
  And God, you are so fucking HOT too. 
    Few things in life that we do have an effect that someone will never forget and I'll never forget you.
Hope all is well --A Fan

Naughty Boys Don't Win Here

   I have a regular hypnosis client who is notoriously selfish. He always tries to convince me that everything he wants his girlfriend to do for him is really "only about her" and naturally, I call him on his shit. We always talk about ways he can be more giving and actually serve as a submissive rather than a spoiled, selfish little sissy boy but he is a stubborn little shit. Today, I decided to take action. 

   I put the selfish little boy in a hypnotic trance and let him go very deep- deeper than he usually goes- and ran him through a series of suggestions. The result was this: the dirty little boy can only orgasm if he is thinking unselfishly. The more he thinks about his Lady, the stronger the urge, the more built up the orgasm becomes. As soon as a selfish thought enters his head, he loses the erection. Unselfish: erection returns. 

   I watched and listened as the poor little selfish boy tried repeatedly to orgasm. He would almost reach climax and then his thoughts would return to his usual manipulation of the circumstances, Myself and his Lady. Instant droopy noodle. I laughed as this dirty little sissy boy was taught a lesson and left him in tears, his selfish little thoughts continuing to return. Eventually, perhaps he will be able to achieve climax but only if he learns to behave. 

Lesson of the day: 

When selfish sissy boys think they are smarter than they are, they are taught a very... hard lesson.

Oh, The Wonders Of Being A Switch

Today I had a session with a wonderful switch. We met at the door, exchanged pleasantries and I asked him to be seated. As always, his nervousness was palpable but it dissipated quickly as we began to talk. Men are often intimidated by my presence. Sometimes I delight in using this fact as a tool to wield and other times, I smile and make them comfortable- secure in the knowledge that I can turn the tables at any time I wish. We had agreed on a switch session. Him topping for the first 30 minutes and me topping for the second half. Men are often eager to feel my control once we have spoken so I wasn't surprised that the ratio changed to 20 minutes/40 minutes. Once I took control, I quickly ramped him up. I gleefully used a very large selection of paddles, crops and canes to give him a full spectrum of the various sensations I was capable of inflicting. As I layered bruising upon welts on top of stings, punctuated by the thud of a heavy wooden paddle, I smiled and laughed as he wiggled and moaned. Always, my inner sadist comes out when I see a reddening bottom and welts appearing on a rounded ass. Eventually, our time was up. Too soon as usual. He was very happy with his deeply bruised ass and stinging welts as he left, thanking me and already planning the next session.

I do so love my work.

Of gods and Music

O vast Rondure, swimming in space,
Covered all over with visible power and beauty,
Alternate light and day and the teeming spiritual darkness,
Unspeakable high processions of sun and moon and countless stars above

I sat tonight beside one of my dearest friends, listening to these words crash over me through the voices of a choir and to the accompaniment of a symphony. In a state of bliss, I allowed myself to be carried away by the music. I let my spirit drift on the waves of harmony, floating peacefully on the notes as the conductor wrung every ounce of emotion from the gathering of artists before him. It was magical.

Bear me indeed as through regions infinite
Whose air I breathe, whose ripples I hear, lave me all over,
Bathe me, O God, in thee, mounting to thee,
I and my soul to range in range to thee

My mind wandered, jumping from note to note like stepping stones. I felt the playful lilt of the violins which surrounded me as if a flock of birds were escorting me to an unknown destination. The cellos and bass wrapped me in their warm, comforting tones, each note creating the clouds which wrapped softly around my body. The drums boomed thunderously as if sent from Thor himself and the horns proclaimed their joy to the world as the choir of 100 voices melded into a beautiful sense of “oneness” for me.

I thought about these words. I tasted the flavor and wondered upon their inspiration. These verses were written by Walt Whitman, who believed in all religions but adhered to none. He once wrote in a poem, "I adopt each theory, myth, god, and demi-god, / I see that the old accounts, bibles, genealogies, are true, without exception" I have some things in common with Mr. Whitman. I love words. I love the way they can inspire and I love the way they allow me to convey my thoughts. I also value religion. Now those of you who know that I am a staunch atheist may have read those four words twice just to be sure. Yes, I value religion. Let me explain.

A person’s religion can be the pillar of support an individual relies on during their lives. A religion can be a god or several, it can be a passion like music or art, it can be inspired by a place or a sight, a sound or a smell. A religion can also exist within the absence of a god. I believe that none of these are less or more than any other. Perhaps you think my definition too loose or vague, that a religion must have a god with a name and a pretty place to go so see him, her, it or them. Think what you like! I challenge and dare you to, for that is entirely the point. I decry only that which does not encourage questions, values only blind faith and relies on desperation for obedience. I respect those with fire and courage no matter what the belief or the name of their deity.

I was raised in a very religious home. Actually, I was raised in two- my mother and father shuttled me back and forth between their homes so I was alternately expected to identify as either Presbyterian or Reformed Baptist depending on my location. I also attended a private Christian school until the time when I ran away from home at 16. I have put in my time with organized religion. There were many battles when I was growing up between family members about religion and the issues associated with it. I left my father’s home and went to my mother’s for a very short period. A rule of my mother’s church caused me to be asked to leave her church (because of my rather cavalier approach to religious debating) and because I was in her household and not attending the church, was asked to leave her home. Church law stated that any person living under a member’s roof must attend the church. In my mother’s mind, there was no room to debate the issue.

I was angry for a very short while but I was ready to be on my own. I had seen enough of blind faith and unquestioning obedience. I needed to be where the questions burning in my mind could be asked and to be around people who could not only give me one answer but many. I became an anti-religious warrior, waiting for the Jehovah’s Witnesses like a wolf waiting for sheep, fire burning and ready to lash out at all who had the nerve to try to “save” me. In those days, I was as fearsome as any preacher who ever dared minister about the evils of the flesh and the tortures of hell. I was the anti-evangelist, preaching on the downfalls of religion, the stupidity of “sheep”, and the ridiculousness of blind faith.

These days I have mellowed and come to understand spirituality. I can touch the deepest parts of my soul, embracing the energy within myself and others; the energy which exists in every living creature. While I am still an atheist, I value the faith that others have within themselves. Just as I expect to be allowed to develop and embrace my own version of spirituality, I will defend anyone else the right to their own.  My spirituality has no god and no savior save for the fact that I have embraced it to save myself. It is the ultimate act of taking myself, this self that I have built from a person who was once too hurt to want to live, too raw and broken to exist within the real world. I have taken all of the hurt, guilt and pain and turned it into something I understand and can embrace. I have accepted  within myself, the parts of  that will never fit in with my family and I have turned away from the guilt which was instilled from the moment I could understand what I should feel guilty of. To me, it is power in a raw and animal form. I play because I touch my spirituality here, take it and make it my own.  My kink is simple. This is the place where I find my bliss, touch my version of god and create my own heaven.