Masculine Submission

No greater love has a man than to live his life for the one he loves

Archive for the category “Masculinity”

Guilt, shame, and submission

I understand shame. I was taught it at a very young age, and I internalized it so well that it can still sometimes send a tendril from the depths of my psyche and threaten to pull me under and drown me. Fortunately, I have taught myself to recognize its voice, and I know that it shrinks from reason.

Understand, first, that shame and guilt, while related, are not the same thing. Guilt is the internal message, “I have done something wrong. My behavior violated my values. I am sorry for what I have done.” Shame is the internal message, “I am something bad. Only a bad thing could do the things I do. I am beyond saving. I deserve to suffer for being such a bad thing.”

The natural reaction to guilt is to seek out the person who has been wronged, and apologize. Forgiveness is not necessary to move on – you cannot force someone to accept an apology – but forgiveness can virtually erase the incident from collective history. The natural reaction to shame is to hide and avoid anyone who might know and understand it. Forgiveness only makes shame worse, because shame whispers that forgiveness is only given because the forgiver doesn’t understand what you are.

Guilt is incident based and fleeting. Shame is a way of life, because the person’s sense of self rests upon a foundation of worthlessness. The more you look at guilt and shame, the more you realize that guilt is healthy, and shame is not. Typically, guilt walks hand-in-hand with sorrow; whereas shame rides a horse named humiliation.

I’m not talking about humiliation as a kink that people honestly enjoy. I don’t understand that particular kink, but I don’t judge people by the yardstick of my life. I don’t have to understand it to give those who enjoy humiliation all the space they need to enjoy their predilections. I do understand enough to know that there is a way for some guys to be humiliated that actually makes them feel good about who they are.

But there are some men for whom the act of submission is humiliating. Perhaps it is because they don’t measure up to society’s stereotypes of manhood. Perhaps it is because they don’t enjoy the gender roles that are forced upon them. Perhaps it is because they have internalized these things to the point where their personal sense of manhood is threatened by the very things that arouse them. For whatever reason, putting themselves under the thumb (or heel!) of a woman is both heaven and hell, wrapped into one ball of furiously competing senses of revulsion and satisfaction.

For example, there is is the act of eating one’s own semen after ejaculation. Since Mistress Delila took ownership of me, there have been very few times when She hasn’t insisted that I “clean up” in this fashion. I have never once felt humiliated when doing this*, or when I think about it afterwards. I don’t believe She wants me to be humiliated, and would likely stop doing it if I suddenly developed that reaction. At the very least, She would expect me to get over it, even if it required therapy and medication.

When I first heard guys discussing how humiliating this is, I was honestly confused. As I thought it through, and paid close attention to how they spoke of it, I realized that this was a form of self-punishment for the pleasure of having an orgasm while experiencing something they “shouldn’t enjoy” (as they define it). It wasn’t just the act of eating semen that was humiliating – it was the entire behavioral chain.

Maybe it is something as simple as having to ask permission to have an orgasm. I as mentioned in an earlier post, Conventional Wisdom says that this is an unmanly thing to do. If a guy buys into that Conventional Wisdom (instead of rejecting it as I do); then he has to either find a way to be okay with being less of a man for what he wants; or he has to punish himself for what he enjoys.

I believe guilt is the result of a man finding a way to be okay with being less of a man. After all, by being submissive (and even more so, by deriving pleasure from it), he has violated his idea of what a man should be like. He has violated his values. He may feel sorry for doing this, but the reward is worth the guilt. And anyways, if he doesn’t let himself think about the guilt; then it isn’t so bad. Just focus on the good, and it will be okay. Mostly.

Shame, however, comes when a man cannot come to grips with his desires. A man is supposed to be in control, and he isn’t. Therefore, he is not a man. The logic is straightforward and iron-clad. The answer, of course, is to find a way to purge that non-manliness from his psyche. Maybe he simply refuses to indulge those desires – making himself suffer through denial of pleasure (and perhaps, denial of ALL pleasures). Maybe he finds a way to make the source of his pleasure so unmanly that it can’t possibly appeal to him.

From this perspective, what could be more unmanly that eating one’s own semen? That is, after all, something that women and gay men do (in the macho-stereotypical view, there is no class of humans less masculine that women and gay men), and this semen was produced by doing something unmanly, anyway. So he consumes his semen, surrendering his manhood, to pay for the pleasure he has allowed himself.

How can this not be humiliating? How can someone who seeks that much humiliation not be filled with shame? Isn’t a man who actively tries to not be a man a bad thing?

First, let’s start by tossing out that “man’s man” crap. I’ve met some gay men who are pretty damned masculine (and, actually, some women are, too). There is nothing about desiring and enjoying another man that reduces masculinity. It’s like saying that you must be a chicken if you like to eat eggs. It just doesn’t work.

Beyond that, a man is not defined by what makes his dick hard. A man is simply a boy who has grown up, and a significant part of growing up is to put away the thoughts of fancy and simplistic ideas of reality. So you aren’t John Wayne. Big deal. Neither was John Wayne! He was a fucking actor whose name was really Marion Robert Morrison!

An erection is the result of mental and physical arousal – which is, as far as I can ascertain, entirely outside of the control of most men. If having to ask permission to cum makes your dick hard; then you can no more control that than you can control if you get hard from looking at a woman’s breast or buttocks or a man’s biceps. It’s a fact of life for you. It isn’t a reflection of your character, it’s a reflection of what turns you on. Period. Nothing further.

What is it in semen that would make eating it unmanly?. Up to 75% of human semen is simply amino acids, enzymes, and fructose. Fructose is a kind of sugar. Amino acids are building blocks of proteins. Enzymes are simply a catalyst cell used to turn one thing into another – an no, it doesn’t turn straight guys into gay guys. If it did; then you’d only get once chance in life to masturbate.

Feel free to substitute other actions for the one’s I’ve used as examples. It isn’t, after all, the action that is inherently shameful or guilt-inducing. It is how a person feels about that action, and how they feel about themselves for enjoying it.

For those of you who might recognize yourself in my description, know that my heart aches for your suffering. I was there once. I understand, first-hand, how it feels to hate yourself for what you are. I also understand that it is possible to move beyond that hate, to accept what you are and who you are, and to find someone who loves you for it, not despite it. You should realize, as well, that when you punish yourself, you are also punishing those around you. No man, after all, is an island.

Even if it feels like you are.

*I will talk about what this means to me another time. Doing so now would simply derail the conversation I want to have.

Building blocks

Under the agreement that guides my relationship with Mistress, I am not allowed to masturbate, except under Her direction. Since we only get to see each other physically once a month or so, this means that She often directs my actions by phone. Because our lives are busy, I sometimes go several days (or weeks) without touching myself. I have learned to love these times of hunger building within me. While I have never been one to have erotic dreams, as my hunger grows, I often have erotic dreams about Her (and I have never dreamed of any other woman). For obvious reasons, I enjoy these.

This was the first part of our agreement, which has grown and evolved over time. It is, in my eyes, the foremost building block of what we have. I love every part of the…dance of this type of play. Often, but not always, I must beg for Her permission to stroke myself. She will always stop me several times at various stages of arousal. As anyone who has engaged in edging will affirm, the closer to orgasm I am when She stops me, the harder it is to stop…but it also makes it more intense and more meaningful. When She stops me, I will beg permission to continue, unless She forbids it. She often allows me to orgasm, because She enjoys hearing it (I tend to be a bit noisy…). But I love it just as much when She does not.

Every part of this flies in the face of stereotypical masculinity stereotypes. Even monogamous men in Western cultures are generally accepted to be in control – and especially in control of their sexual pleasure. Conventional Wisdom says that a man CANNOT control his actions during sexuality activity. He just loses control and pounds away until he’s done. Then he goes to sleep.

Beyond that, the idea that a grown man would beg is nearly anathema to the Western concept of manhood. That he would voluntarily enter a relationship with a woman who would not only make him beg, but enjoy it, would seem insane (and, in fact, it is only recently that BDSM activities ceased to be de facto markers of mental illness – like in that last decade).

Conventional Wisdom is wrong. Period.

Before I met Mistress Delila, I was pretty much at the mercy of my sexual desires. I spent considerable time (sometimes multiple hours per day) watching BDSM themed porn and masturbating. There is nothing inherently wrong with this, but it caused problems in my life. It helped ruin two marriages and it impacted my ability to get enough sleep so I could work effectively.

What I needed, of course, was a Dominant Woman to impose some control over me. Mistress Delila did this, and She slowly brought me from needing multiple orgasms per day to the point where I have gone longer than a month without any release. I suppose the fact that I was able to do this with Her constant supervision, and no physical restraint, indicates that I always had the capacity to control myself, but was lacking a reason. Mistress Delila, and Her love, as demonstrated through Her control of my sexuality, was that reason. Submitting to Her control granted me freedom from the chaos of my sexual urges. In other terms, I needed to be SUBMISSIVE to be a MAN and control my sexuality for the woman I love.

It is difficult for me to put into words what this means to me. When I met Mistress Delila, I had spent close to quarter of a century trying, and failing, to control my sexuality. I felt enslaved to my desires. I had begun to fear that I could never experience true intimacy because my most satisfying experience was with pixelated videos in the middle of the night. I had lost hope. When She told me that I would do what She wanted because She was better than porn, I just couldn’t believe it. She wouldn’t have said that, I told myself, if She really knew me.

But She was right, and She continues to be right.

It is difficult to have an adult-oriented online presence and not be exposed to pornography, but (somewhat surprisingly) it doesn’t tempt me. I see it, from time to time, but I do not consume it. I would rather remain hungry for months (gulp! did I really say that?) than to waste even one stroke of my cock without Her approval and to have that empty feeling of aloneness after doing so without Her.

I beg for other things from Her, but there is nothing that means as much to me as when I beg for permission to enjoy my body. For one thing, there is the implicit trust from Her that I have not cheated on our dynamic. Beyond that, it is an extremely vulnerable form of communication. It’s that stripping away of the facade and baring my deepest self to Her decisions. It is that I trust Her to decide what is best for me, and to be strong enough to resist the urge to simply give in because She loves me and I want something. It is putting myself into Her hands and under Her control as fully as I possibly can at that moment.

The edging shows my commitment to our dynamic. It shows that, even at the peak of physical pleasure – and, believe me, it is sometimes at the peak – I am strong enough to bend my will into obedience. It is the most personal and intimate sacrifice that I can make at that moment when I deny my body the release it so desperately wants and lie there panting and pleading for Her to just not stop…

She is teaching me that I do not need to get frantic about approaching my edge. If I can push down the physical urge to orgasm; then I can also let Her experience the passion in my voice that She loves so much and still remain in control of all of my behavior (thrashing legs, for example).

I look back at the above paragraph on Conventional Wisdom, and I just can’t believe how wrong it is. How could a man be stronger than to give everything because of love? How can he be more manly than when he reveals himself at his most vulnerable? How can a man even be a man if he cannot control the very sexuality that is gifted with his gender?

Submitting to Mistress Delila in this specific fashion has made me a stronger man, and it has built the most amazing love that I have ever given or received. If that isn’t masculine; then masculinity isn’t worth pursuing. Fortunately, I believe that it is worth pursuing and this is how I do it with the woman I love.

No butts about it

My first wife once brought up the idea of using a dildo on my ass. I flipped out, and not in a good way. My ass, I told her, was for exit only. Anyone putting anything in there would get a black eye…or worse.

It’s a shame that I had that reaction, but cause I really love having a woman fuck my ass. I mean: I REALLY love it. I beg for it…but Mistress likes it enough that I don’t usually have to beg long. (YAY!)

To understand how I got from there to here, it’s important to understand WHY I was there in the first place. I grew up in the land of the “man’s man.” Men weren’t just grown up boys, they were rough and tough and didn’t take shit from anyone. My grandfather once got a job running a construction crew because he fought better than anyone in town. My uncle cut the tip off his finger at work, continued working for over an hour with a red rag wrapped around it, drove himself over forty miles to the hospital, and then filled out the insurance paperwork – with the injured hand. Get the idea?

Anything that hinted at weakness had to be purged from a boy so he could be a man. Without a doubt, one of the things that made a man a man is that he loved women. Homosexuality wasn’t just a crime against God’s Law, it was an admission that a guy just wasn’t really a man. In fact, anything that hinted at homosexuality was probably best ridiculed…like touching another man in any way other than a hand-shake.

The idea that a guy would derive pleasure from anything going into his anus was OBVIOUSLY an admission of homosexuality. It meant he wasn’t a man. He was some sort of weird sissy-boy who just…well, he was a bit throwed-off.

So I couldn’t even contemplate the idea of enjoying my own ass in any sexual manner.

I have, since that time, evolved a more enlightened concept of manhood. I no longer fear homosexuality, not in myself and not in others. I understand that some people just like other people with the same sexual equipment, just like some guys like women with big butts and some like women with tiny breasts. It isn’t even worthy of noting, honestly.

My first step away from that extreme point was the discovery of my prostate. I don’t really remember where I heard about prostate play, but it must have made it sound REALLY good. I found objects around the house that would reach and found that it was an amazing feeling. I want to stress – this was incredibly unsafe, and with the easy availability of sex toys today, there is no reason someone would do something so stupid.

I still kept that hidden from my first wife. A big part of it was that I didn’t want her to think I was gay. Ultimately, I simply didn’t trust her enough to make myself vulnerable. She never cracked through the hard shell I had built around my innermost sense of manhood. For that matter, neither did I.

My second wife and I discussed it. We were actually pretty close to trying it once, but something about the way she talked about it spooked me. I just wasn’t self-aware enough to talk to her about what I needed – and I was just realizing that I needed a dominant sexual partner. She was never dominant, so we never came to an arrangement on the anal sex.

I began to experiment, though. I ordered sex-toys on-line (DO THIS!!!). I tried a small plug, then worked up to a medium plug. I got a prostate vibrator…which is pretty damned good. But I never had what I really craved. I never had a woman who would strapon a dildo and fuck my ass.

Until, that is, I met Mistress Delila.

When I first started talking to Mistress about handing my sexuality over to Her – and that was all I was willing to do at first – I needed two things. I needed orgasm control and I needed to be taken anally. The first one was easily establish over the phone. The latter…it took a bit more.

The first time Mistress took my ass, I was terrified. Every possible outcome scared me. I was scared She wouldn’t like it. I was scared She would. I was scared that I would like it. I was scared I would hate it. I was scared it wouldn’t feel good. I was scared that I would love the way it felt. Frankly, I don’t know how I managed to relax enough for Her to do it.

That remains the single most-transformative experience of my life. She took me with such gentleness and tenderness…and not only did I enjoy it, but I could see on Her face that She liked it. Most importantly, She let me know that it was okay for me to enjoy it. She let me know that She still respected my manliness, even during and after that first time She took my ass.

Everything about being taken anally is wonderful to me. When I lie on my back, I can look up into Her face and see what wondrous love She has for me. When I’m on my belly, it’s purely about Her Domination over me. I love the feeling of the first thrust when my body is forced open. I love the feeling of Her hips smacking against my body (and the sound of it). I love the wet, silky feeling of Her girl-cock sliding in and out of my anus. It drives me wild when She angles it so that it hits my prostate and I end up dripping fluid. She has brought me to tears by singing me love songs while taking me. She has made me fully orgasm (not the same as prostate milking). She has made me feel beautiful and loved and treasured. She has made me feel wonderfully slutty and dirty and completely possessed.

Most of all, I love the incredible experience of being totally vulnerable with someone I trust even more than I trust myself. That feeling is so sweet that it is very nearly addictive.

THAT is what I want everyone to know.

I’ve read enough psychobabble to know that there are some who claim that this is a sort of bi-sexuality. Or it is a way for me to experience homosexual pleasures without admitting what they are. Or it is “being in touch with my feminine side.” Or it is simply about the prostate being stimulated. Or it is something like this or that or the other thing.

Well, it could be any or all of that for any given guy who does it. For me, it is none of that. I’m not feminine when I give up my ass. I’m not bi-sexual or gay (I’ve never felt any sexual attraction to any man on earth). It doesn’t matter if She hits my prostate or not.

For me, it is being manly enough to make myself vulnerable. It’s being secure enough in my masculinity to humble (not humiliate) myself by turning over to Her the one thing that I have hidden from everyone but Her. It is trusting Her to make the experience just as transcendent every single time She enters me. It is the manliest thing I can do, because it is revealing the man who resides behind every facade I erect to keep the world at bay.

Yes, there is an aspect of being a man that is reflected in being tough – and I know, without a doubt, I can hold my own under pressure. But the bigger measure of a man, I have always thought, is the measure of love he is willing to give away. I surrender my ass to Mistress Delila because I love Her, and I gave away ownership of secret desires and hidden pleasures when She claimed me as Her property.

This is not to say that every guy will love being assfucked. I am entirely sure that there are many who would not. That’s fine. But it’s time we moved beyond labeling individual sex acts as indicative of masculinity and started looking at the man engaged in the activity. If he’s vulnerable – physically or emotionally – then he is engaged in a masculine activity, because he is revealing his masculine self. If he is not vulnerable; then it is merely sex and he is just using someone else to masturbate.

Male beauty and the green eyed monster

A few days ago, a lingerie catalog arrived in the mail. Being an admirer of feminine beauty, I flipped through it. Some of it was simply trashy, but sometimes some people like trashy sex. Some of it was rather elegant. Some of it looked downright uncomfortable, but it drew the eye to specific areas on the model’s body. There was even a section for plus-size women (what I like to refer to as “actual women”), and each of the models looked fabulous and desirable.

Then I got to the “men’s section.” It consisted almost entirely of high cut thong underwear, and often had some sort of “pouch” cut that was obviously made to accentuate the perceived size of the guy’s dick. Given how often I have heard women say that they really don’t care about the size of a guy’s dick, this made me wonder about the whole idea of “male lingerie.” So I sent out a few questions on Twitter.

The first answers I received were from guys…which was odd, since I had specifically asked for “women” to answer the question. The answers from the guys quickly moved to comedy – which is how a lot of Twitter goes. But I think it also reveals a bit of discomfort in guys talking about their own beauty. After all, most of us aren’t models, we don’t all have rock solid six-packs or arms of steel. When it comes to describing what women find sexy about us, in particular, isn’t easy. It’s tough because there just aren’t many alternate models for male beauty (a problem shared by women), and it’s pretty easy to see where we don’t measure up (also a problem shared by women).

As far as I can tell, the point of lingerie is to remind a woman’s partner that she is desirable. It accentuates the sexy parts (breasts, hips, and/or thighs are the socially acceptable target spots) and hides the (perceived) flaws. The purpose of lingerie is to make a man want to have sex with a woman. To some extent, all fashion does this, but lingerie is set aside for intimate relationships.

So what is the male equivalent? One answer I received was a pair of black linen pants and no shoes or shirt (have to remember to order that). Also offered were silk boxers, jeans, and…

Well, it seemed like it was a difficult question for even the women to answer. Several women pointed out that what “sexy” is depends a lot on context – not only where and when, but on whom and on comfort level. The upshot of this is that there isn’t, as far as I can tell, a class of clothing for men that is designed entirely to make them appealing to their partner. I guess it says something about society that lingerie for women is so widespread and accepted, but the category doesn’t exist for men. I will admit, I am somewhat jealous about this – after all, if I wanted to inspire lust in Mistress Delila, wouldn’t it be great to have a catalog of options?

I think this results in male beauty being somewhat enigmatic. We know that (some) women like muscled arms and shoulders, six-pack abs, a firm butt, and, of course, a sense of humor (this last one is why Don Knotts was such a sex symbol, right?). But I don’t think six men out of ten could explain why their partner finds them sexy, and even fewer could do it without making a joke out of the question.

So this is what I would like to ask any women who care to comment: If you came out of the bathroom and found your partner had put on the one outfit that just made you want to immediately push him to the floor and devour him; what would it be?

The question for any guy who cares to comment is this: What body parts would you accentuate to make your partner (present or past) push you down and devour you? What clothing would you use to pull that off?

If you need help thinking, try Ferns amazing slideshow of male beauty.

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