Rambles and Stream of Consciousness

I feel neither coherent nor productive, so you’re getting a stream of consciousness while I continue my sick leave from gainful employment. What did you do today? I corrected my insurer who flipped my name “Is this Leslie Pearl?” No.

I don’t feel particularly good. The stomach ache is abating into nausea instead of immobilizing pangs. I still don’t particularly want to eat anything and carry my mood about like a heavy object. I think dealing with the absolute bullshit I had piled up (double anti-sexual assault shit in two volunteering groups, an absolute imbecile outing me on fetlife, my abusive grandmother popping clogs, a family member having a meltdown on my doorstep and work sucking awfully) explains my worn out state but I need to figure out how to get from hiding on the couch in a blanket burrito watching Hannibal to going back to my job and careering for cash monies.

I realized I wasn’t writing anymore which kinda bugged me, so you get this. Ramblings.

I’m told I’m beautiful, a lot. Wildcard also easily draws in the attraction of women, and wears it with a constant sort of “are you having me on?!” background disbelief, like he’s not entirely sure why. His good looks are easy to explain- he has gigantic eyes, heavy lidded with long lashes, a perfect nose and the spacing of his teeth make his mouth push his lips into a sensual pout. When he’s not thinking about anything but an exciting idea his eyes get sparkly and intense, dark and compelling. He’s not just handsome, he’s pretty.

He wears his beard and his hair knowing what suit him. The beard’s always short cropped, straight lines following the hollow under his cheeks, the hair’s something stylish and classic- he’s willing to pay more at a salon and listen to good advice from an expert. His clothes are picked to suit him, with a sort of Captain America Vintage Prep vibe.

Myself I don’t know why I am perceived as beautiful. Many, many women get told that by men, but I draw in more than my female peers seem to report. It’s not a subject you’re supposed to embrace- and I don’t have the slenderness to assume a professional, non-sexual modeling career in in my future. But I look like the girls in all the porn, a white brunette, thinner than the average, nice but not particularly large breasts, small waist, massive hips and buttocks. Women deny the number of my hips when I do sizing “NO! Your hips are not 38″ around!” (Or 40″ if I’m running fatter.) I seem to unintentionally gain and lose the same 15 pounds based on my health. Right now I’m sick and my breasts are smaller.

My hair is, under the 4C dye I refresh every few weeks, salt and pepper. I’m thirty-one, and the first greys came at 16 or so. I don’t particularly like it, and turn it back to a brown that’s almost black, to match my eyebrows.

When Wildcard and I have sex, he seldom penetrates my vagina. Usually he achieves orgasm in some combination of hand-and-mouth. He does not go down on me, and I dislike oral sex. When he does penetrate me, it’s hard for me to fit him inside. My clit bangs out orgasms in minutes of the right kind of touching, but my vagina is a tense creature that coils itself up, especially without regular insertions. He finds it so stimulating he has to stay still inside me and half pulled out, and that hurts. He’s just too physically large to rest with the head of his penis in the antechamber of my vagina and not to the wider point of full insertions.

I’ve never found a solution that the speed I like being done at is the speed by which guys come. It’s not a failure in the guy, it’s just the sort of stroke that gets them off gets me off. I don’t like sex where the guy just goes and goes and goes forever though.

I noticed that everything that’s idealized about female orgasms is discouraged in men. If you are a woman people want you to come constantly, ideally basically at will. If you’re a guy everything is piled on not coming and there’s nothing treated more sad than being able to come from imagination. It gets called “premature ejaculation”.

When I was a child I learned about kegels, and can do them easily to this day. They make no difference other than entertaining partners, apparently providing novelty. Squinch. Squinch.

I know I like anal stimulation, and I would probably enjoy anal sex, but the prep and getting me relaxed enough is so fundamentally un-sexy. So the subject comes up and then passes along.

I tie him up sometimes, with velcro cuffs, or make him a rope harness, cinched tight. He likes it when it’s tightly squeezing around the base of his cock and balls. These harnesses serve virtually no restraining purpose. Lingerie. When a friend started a panties for people who have packages company I bought him a pair. They don’t feel feminine on him and he likes being stroked through the black mesh. I don’t like thongs on men.

I like fucking fully clothed or without taking off the sexy lingerie I like wearing. I have stocking fetish.

I like bad language in bed, I like aggression and wrestling. I want a sort of dirtiness that I don’t intrinsically believe in. I read a lot of erotica on the darker end of the spectrum where the genders don’t matter but the victim experiences a fundamental loss of control that’s often permanently damaging. I don’t like castration stories though. My fantasy victims are used by multiple partner but aroused by it- I separate arousal from consent and fantasize about non-con.

I had a lot of cybersex in my life, which translates into writing porn well. People prefer sentimental emotional erotica over mechanical erotica. Feelings matter.

I have not been inspired to write erotica in a while. I made a few stabs at it, but the tension is missing and I want to tease out what is going on there.

 

Sickness and Idleness


It’s been two weeks since I went into the emergency room, my stomach so pained that I was crying with it. Two months of hurting, escalating from a week of bad things pushed on me.

They scoped me out, found nothing in my guts by MRI, and a non-threatening cyst on my left ovary. I had the worst time in the hospital- the IV caused a vasovagal reaction and dry heaving, then the fluids used to make my guts show up of course make you even more ill. It’s not sexy, but it is my body.

The doctor called it stress. Stress so intense my appetite’s shuttered and I wake up in pain every morning. I’m thirty-one. I lost 15 pounds in 2 months. I don’t even feel hungry anymore.

I’m on sick leave. Temporary disability (paperwork ahoy!) paid for out of premiums I was just signed on for at tge job I am tired of.

I miss wanting to eat, I miss having stamina. It’s Canada so all of this is free.

Wildcard, who lives to feed me cooking that would make a professional jealous, watches with wary, sad eyes. He doesn’t know how to help me. He wants to help.

I spend about an hour every day in the shower. It relieves the cramps and turns my brain off under the thousand drop prickle massage of the water. I do laundry because I hate being useless.

I will get better, I think? I’m mending slowly.

I Can’t Endorse You, And The Fact That This Bothers You Is A Warning

So Montreal is very blessed with a large BDSM scene. Although clubs and dungeons come and go, based on trends and the notoriously tight wallets of the average kinky citizen, you have your pick of places to hang out.

One (well, a couple) of them keeps allowing HerrK to come to their events, a dude with a number of nasty outstanding allegations. It’s pretty well documented, from his vague apology/confession, to the 11 alleged victims that came forward that shit is fucked up. Net consequence, people, including my partner, warn their friends that he goes to stuff. And we tell organizers because it is helping them to know what’s going on. Even if you are a for profit company with the morals of a Saturday morning cartoon villain, it’s really stupid business practices because it’s a giant liability and PR stink.

As of Thursday, talking about a party being held at the club, Unity to which HerrK is going, Wildcard posts a status on fetlife, (kind of like on facebook) to note this so his friends can make up their own minds on the subject and asks he organizer for a statement via PM- warning him that HerrK is attending.

Now Wildcard and I compare notes, but generally work independently on our own moral direction on things- the organizer suggested talking to him, but knowing no fruit came with working with me (eg HerrK was still going to stuff) Wildcard declined the opportunity. The organizer had his warning already. We can’t keep telling him about stuff he was linked to and he can make up his own mind. If his 25+ years of kinky party planning tells him that this is the right call to make, so be it. He’s a free citizen.

Then the organizer puts himself as going to my 18-35 munch. I generally try to enforce the age limits, with a little wiggle room at the 36-37 side of things as people transition into wider things in the scene, so I give him a note this is not the right space for him. He insists that he, despite being a well preserved 50+, has the right to go to a public venue, etc, etc…

I repeat that it would be a shame to have to formally eject one of his tenure and status (because I mean seriously, this guy is the closest to a grandfather the scene has) and I’d rather not humiliate the veteran organizer over what might be a miscommunication when people are tired and emotional. The conversation is probably permanently severed, but I don’t know what more to tell him.

The organizer probably doesn’t like this, but the fact remains, that if you welcome people with the dreaded Allegations hanging over their head, people will be warned by their friends about the quality of the company found at your events. I am nowhere near as evangelical as Wildcard about this particular strategy (I tend to get a lot more “but it never happened to meeeee!”), but it really is very frustrating.

And I know this organizer really, really wants me to endorse the multitude of projects they work hard on. They try to involve the entire community in huge, big tent projects. That I respect except I can’t endorse an event that doesn’t meet the standards of my judgement. I’m not a complicated woman, but there are some things I can’t compromise on. I am just not that flexible.

And I’m a little nobody, toodling around with my single monthly event for the last 5 years. All I can do is tell people I personally don’t endorse this.

Post Mortem 2016

This is "Zozobra" a spirit of pain and despair ritually burned at the change of the year.2016 was not a sexy year. It was a year where I had a very complicated relationship with the Montreal BDSM Community (which is a nice way to say I shouted about sexual assault allegations) and also a year when my libido decided to take a nap, helped along by a cushioning layer of medications for various health problems.

Outside of the context of kink, I took on a vanilla project where I kicked butt, but it ate every scrap of my spare energy.

Other stuff happened in large volume. Some of it was simply a bunch of changes that manifested themselves at the very end of 2015 (moved, got promoted), some of it was background family things (my brother got very sick).

On the safety front, I accomplished a lot, and I accomplished sweet fuck all.

I got enlightened to the HerrK mess and reacted to it. A person I was previously close to decided to get excessively handsy with other people to everyone’s detriment. I yelled at a person who has other assault allegations including my own against him.

People mostly listened, but unfortunately this isn’t a movie. My former friend is on the edges of my social group as many people decided not to cut ties.  HK dramatically quit, and then slunk back into the background of the Montreal BDSM community, moving to separate Urban Dungeon from Opal and carry on as if nothing ever happened. Yelling at the guy who fondled me was about as effective as yelling at the sea, but… at least there is little room to pretend that people don’t know about that shit.

Various event organizers in Montreal were made aware and took approaches ranging from outright denial to taking it as the safety tip, although the vast majority decided that unless there was an iron clad court case with arrest records it was a dramatic mystery. I even got lectured about how poorly I handled this, as if anyone was bothering to touch this shit elsewise.

Eh, it really soured me on a lot of the general Montreal community, because I held the opinion that most people were just unaware of the severity of this and I discovered that given intelligence about a risk most people doubled down hard on the personal responsibility front.

Otherwise…

I did some writing, but not a lot relevant to here. I gained a lot of twitter followers, which meant deepening my connections to online people, and gave my website a much needed face lift.

Wildcard and I ticked through another year in a shared home, this one picked out as a mutual thing at the end of last year. It’s got a lot of floor space and is still located in Canada. We hosted parties of the kinky kind, which I generally failed to document except as stubs of drafts.

Eh, feeling better and not being quite as medicated, I can tell that I was not engaged with my sexuality at all. I think I was averaging an orgasm a month at best, and being pretty rabbit like in my usual habits,  this was quite shocking.

I mean I have pretty impeccable control when I want to, and have been known to match hapless orgasm denial suffering subs so that when they whine I can point out how tough I am. (Old trick from my ex military aunt, never assign a punishment you can’t handle, up to being ready to do push ups right next to them).

Photo source – npr.org

 

 

I’m Number 42!

Top 100 Sex Bloggers 2016

So it’s the end of the year, and there’s the usual little puff of awards to waft us out. I deliberately skipped the kinkly awards this year (not even the winners were exactly happy with them) but got picked for something I actually hold in a lot of esteem- Molly’s Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2016.

Oh yeah, and in other amazing news Domme Chronicles won this year. Ferns is not just the pre-eminent lifestyle femdom blogger, but she’s a pillar of multiple online communities and forums. She would probably appreciate a congratulations- she earned it.

As for why I care about this award- this is one of those things were all the other people on the list are properly hand picked and curated on sensible factors ranging from proper art attribution to frequency of updates. There’s a diverse crew (could use more guys, but men are in the minority in sex blogging and they are better represented than in some lists) of sex toy reviewer, share all vanillas, kinksters and other sex positive people.

Molly also included everyone’s twitter handle, so if you’ve got a lonely feed, you’ve got a hundred chatty people talking about cool things to check out- I’m certainly expanding my list based on who I’m sharing a spot with.

The Crown & Home Cooking

It was a Tuesday, but not a #PunishTuesday.

I came home and I don’t think he’d left the bed since I went to work that morning. It’s his vacation and I want him to rest, but like many humans with a streak of perfectionism, idleness is deleterious to his emotional well being. As a person with a chronic physical ailment, not having the energy to do things is an all too common experience for him.

For myself, my mood has slipped a notch since the last week of October. What is generally the favourite part of the year for me has been marred by a heavy measure of frustration, anxiety and sadness over various things. It’s given me less time to notice that Wildcard’s been a bit droopy too.
He’s not been on the outs, health wise, but my persistent battery at the norms of looking the other way in the Montreal BDSM scene when someone is (allegedly, always ALLEDGEDLY) sexually assaulted has been his burden to carry as well as mine. It’s really hard, you push and push and people call you a hysteric, a liar and a monster.

I mad November about inaction and self care.  If he was too under the weather too cook I’d let him rest. I’d bought piles of vegetables the night before and went about sorting out the long skinny egg plants, enoki mushrooms, bright crisp carrots and all the appropriate other things for putting together a stir fry. By the time I was sectioning the eggplant into neat diagonals, he’d rallied.

I still helped him, asking questions every step of the way, while he added other things to the process, mincing and mashing garlic, creating two bowls of fresh and savoury vegetables and tofu on rice.

Afterwards, we cuddled up on the couch for Netflix & “The Crown”

I’ve been watching The Crown, and intensely self-indulgent Netflix series about the early reign of Queen Elizabeth II. It is of course, very obviously one of those made-by-math stories, like House of Cards was a product of looking at how popular Kevin Spacey and the original series was. I am being pandered to with lush, vintage sets and darling but relatable female characters.
Someone crunched the numbers regarding who was spending their time on The Kings Speech and Downton Abby, and decided that what we needed was to feel intimately the challenges of a woman who wears fabulous clothes, is waited on hand and foot and wants her husband to kneel to her.

I do not mind. It is good to be pandered to.

I think that the series occasionally suffers from attempting to worship everything it touches with a reverence that occasionally shades to the absurd. I also feel a little odd being presented with a real (living) person’s life, as an object of objectified and packaged desire. But there hasn’t been any sharp notes from the Queen’s press office about depicting her husband as a fuck object, so I can assume she is unruffled by this love letter to the monarchy even if the Royal Consort’s body is being showcased as a perk of the job.

It is not a femdom story with whips and chains and beatings. But it is a meaningful examination of women and power, and this is something missing from contemporary femdom. Everyine talks about making your sub happy, but very little time is taken to look at a femdom’s personal complexities and vulnerabilities.
That night’s episode was about feeling empowered and rife with little femdom hat tips and jokes, as we watch the new Queen get a measure of control in her intimate life and the subtle yet central role she plays in sustaining her government. For a while we forgot our respective black moods, and the post show cuddling turned to kissing and giggling.

Femdom life is like that. I don’t know anyone who really has orderly protocol 24/7. I know FLRs where she has ultimate say, but even so, there is more of moody cooking and cuddles on the couch than titles and slave positions.

It’s a good life, if you can find it.

A Sex Shop Date With Wildcard

sushiLast Saturday, Wildcard identified my doldrums as needing fixing, s we went out to watch Dr. Strange and then gorge on sushi, the latter activity almost  meaning a visit to the nearby sex shop, called “Romance“.

Every relationship has its rituals. I have an undying love for salmon, particularly raw or smoked. Wildcard has a tradition of eating his feelings in delicious all you can eat buffet omnoms. Having a favourite fishing hole, and being fond of me, he shared the location and now we make monthly pilgrimages. Faces get stuffed, then we invariably go sex toy shopping.

At first the shopping trips were an accidental extension of geography. The store just happens to be between us and where we always park. Honestly, showing up there started with very little expectation other than having a giggle at the hilari-bad porn DVDs.

This branch is open absurdly late, which was probably the first draw.  Plus, in addition to the breast shaped macaroni and strawberry flavoured lube (euch), they have an upstairs BDSM and fetish section. It’s an Adult Novelty style shop, but it is more than dick hats and copies of Pink Eye 2.

Still, why pay the markup?

You might wonder our motive for being there. After all, it is never going to be as cheap as shopping online. No brick and mortar store is going to beat a fresh-from-the-warehouse site like pinkcherry.ca in cost. If I want a bouquet of a half dozen riding crops,  I will never argue meatspace is cheaper.

I keep going back to Romance, because they beat even my favourite online retailers in immediate customer engagement. The staff cares about and is knowledgeable about all their stock. And, while online sites offer reviews, at a certain point you can’t beat actually touching the merchandise.

Going Hands On

Does it bounce well in the hand with a fleshy weight? How strong are the stitches in the leather? Can you slap it against your thigh to feel the thud or the sting? How does it stand up to my personal tastes? You can tell right away what will and won’t work for you.

For example, this time I wanted a cock ring for Wildcard. We’ve basically maxed out on vibes and insertables, but I wanted to take my teasing game a little further and make his erections more persistent.

Sure cock rings are a cheap grab. They seldom cost more than $20, unless you are moving into the territory of elaborate gilded ornaments. Still, I could have bought multiples online for the price of the one I got.  I paid the store markup because I wanted to actually handle the products properly, and get Wildcard’s immediate feedback. After all it was his penis about to be cinched.

At Romance, anything is available for reasonable in store testing, and I had six or so different sizes and models to play with and figure out which was best. Otherwise, I would either need to borrow a friend’s personal items (assuming I knew someone who did have one), or try my luck with buying before I try. Why gamble and create waste?

Curation Matters

Romance doesn’t stock the super high end, gold plated luxury brands, and while they have a few of the lower quality toys, they are carefully screened for skin safe material. The quality and price point runs a range, but nothing will cause a rash. They have recognizable brands, like Tantus, and various versions of the standards in less recognized brands: glass, masturbation sleeves, bullet vibes, etc… Nonetheless they have their share of the cheap quality stuff.

However, what makes me trust in the quality of their offerings are how they handle duds and poor purchases and how they constantly make purchasing a conversation.

corsetback

For example last shopping trip, I impulse bought a Music Legs branded corset back fishnet tights set. That’s not a band I’d expect much from, but even so, the quality was terrible, neither matching the claimed colours on the package, nor coming laced. Indeed the wretched things gave you your lace as a single length of uncut ribbon- unacceptable for an item fragile enough that the first wearing was likely the last.

Online shopping, you write an irate review, and maybe process a return with shipping at your own expense. The smaller ones have time to address you complaints, but there’s a lot more time and distance involved. Here, you get the immediate feedback and from the staff, checking if it was a one off and pulling the defective product, as well as making a note to discuss the problem with the supplier.

And their relationship building also works in the opposite direction. I admit a certain degree of entertainment in getting a post purchase inquiry into the effectiveness of other toys. As much as they are ready to take unsolicited feedback, when you shop they ask questions- and if they know you bought something in the past, they ask you about what your experience was.

So in all, I might buy most of my toys online or seek out pervertables from cooking supply and hardware stores, but the post sushi sex shop date isn’t going to stop any time soon.


Disclosure: I affiliated with pinkcherry after I realized I was giving them a bunch of business from simply bulk ordering cheapo toys and talking about it. Romance and Priape offer no compensation for being mentioned. The sushi pic is free stock photography from clker.com

 

Femdom Life: NO-vember Begins

A sleepy femdom made out of free clip art.November is prostate cancer and men’s health, diabetes and national novel writing month. It’s also the first quiet period I’ve had in a long time. Thus begins the month of Pearl Not Doing Things.

A major vanilla project I’m working on has started to wind down. I’ve dealt with the whole (alleged) serial rapist in the community and pitched a friend from my social group for less severe but definitely horrible things. Those of you that follow me on social media know it was an intense experience that drained a lot of my energy. That and I’ve got one of those persistent low grade health thingees that I need to spend some Canadian Healthcare on. And I was a bridesmaid, which did not entirely agree with me for various reasons mostly to do with being surrounded by happy other people’s families makes me sad mine sucks.

My job has suffered around all that, and I kind of need to focus harder on it. Bleh.

That being said, it hasn’t been all bad. Phantom review sent me a lovely package. You guys were incredibly supportive through the Herr Kommandandt thing and made a serious difference to getting the word out.

But I’m very, very tired, so I am taking the remainder of this month to catch up. I’ll still be on social media but I am adamantly refusing to organize any parties outside the pre-scheduled monthly munch, or worry about accomplishing anything with any sort of plan, deadline or performance expectation. Of course 99% of this is just removing hiatus guilt, since this blog has never been on any sort of sensible schedule, but I’m hoping to do crafts, read novels and if I write or make art, have it be for fun.

Although a part of me is super excited to start cleaning my apartment. Because of course that’s the kind of weirdo I am.

Oh and I want to make more time to actually have sex and less time to writing about it, or scolding people for being terrible about consent.

… I freely admit that about a week in and I’m still getting “omg I need to be USEFUL” jitters and trying to find something to plan and work on.

 

The Kink Role Decoder You Were Waiting For

yourfetishroleEver wondered what those titles and identifier tags meant? This list is here to set you straight when you are getting kinky. 😉

Primal Predator: He really likes rough sex. Somehow this impresses some people and is seen as more ‘intense’. 

babygirl: She’s somewhere between the ages of 35 and 45 and she has her shit together more than you ever will. Also she really likes colouring.

Domme: Identifies as female, is dominant. Gets way more solicitations to sub to strange men than she would like. Which is any number greater than zero. Also get solicitations from ostensibly dom men offering themselves if she promises not to tell on them.

Dominant: Is a dominant as noted, but if female constructions like “Domme” makes her teeth hurt.  She will mockingly pronounce it Dom-AE. As this is the gender neutral, she will also have to devote a lot of time to reminding people M/f is not the default kink setting.

kajira: Thinks belly dancing is a fetish activity. Has more slave “positions” memorized than her dom.

sub: Submissive identified. Is mysteriously defaulted to lower case as if “Dom” were a proper name. Despite the fact that the distaff side of this orientation basically does 90% of the organizing in kink, gets assumed to be less competent.

Switch: Allegedly either not real, or an inferior alloy of dom and sub that will fly apart at any moment. If female, gets creepy inbox messages from all orientations.

Masochist/Bottom: Likes to get their ass beat, is way tougher than you. Sick of being disrespected.

Sadist: Is 2 spooky 4 u. Alternatively is desperately trying to avoid the overly sentimental side of kink because the “gift of submission causes” mouth vomit.

Sadomasochist: Does not take themselves seriously, much less your weird role authority game that they didn’t consent to. Somehow avoids the bullshit “not real” lable that switches get.

Hedonist: Literally here to get laid and unapologetic about that fact to an admirable degree. Will try anything once.

Swinger: Grandpa and Grandma’s version of poly. Pays double the door price at their events if male identified.

Princess: Completely unreliable indication of gender or role orientation, but would appreciate a tiara.

Evolving/Exploring: Read the porn or had some mind blowing sex, now here to find if there’s some sort of pattern to their orgasms.

pet/pup/kitten: Thanks the lucky stars that fashion trends made kitty ears a cheapo year round fashion accessory at Forever 21, has bought accessories at a pet store. Walks on your lap when you are trying to work on the computer.

Sensualist: Abhors pain. Likes orgasms. Give them a plush throw and an ostrich plume and close the door.

Herr Kommandandt Quits. Now What?

nikeHerr Kommandandt has stepped down from his role in Urban Dungeon, and allegedly the BDSM scene. After the number of abuse allegations climbed to 11+ separate individuals with startlingly similar stories of rape, injuries they never consented to, theft and abuse, and a post of mine that made Kinky & Popular on fetlife, there’s some sort of response to all this other than denial. Well, that’s pretty vindicating.

The allegations are getting fully talked about. Other people are talking to MasterSin about the involvement of Montreal Fetish Weekend. I’m getting talked about, in that oblique and careful way that fet does, as a “kinky blogger”. There’s a statement on his profile and in an event thread in the fet group- and one here in the comments of this post from Shawts, which I’ve given a reprint to make it easier to find.

His original statement was in French, so once again D20 has stepped in with his patient translation skill. That guy is a gem of a human. If you see him at one of the munches, please buy him a beverage and tell him nerdy jokes. Seriously.

Herr Kommandandt’s Statement:

Dear Fetlife community,

I address you all in response to what I have read about myself in the past few weeks.

Formerly, impulsive as I was, I would’ve replied immediately, but I wanted to consider the weight of my words and truly think about the matter. For a certain time, as those close to me already knew, I was planning an exit from the fetish scene for an undetermined duration, perhaps even a permanent one.

About two or three months ago, I realized I did not like the person I had become and I asked myself several questions about this subject. Those who have known me for seven or eight years know I am but a shadow of the guy I once was, the friendly and smiling guy, never judging others, never holding a grudge.

It made me realize that, since my breakup with my ex wife, the mother of my daughter, I have been dealing with a major depression for all those years and I did not give the bitterness caused by this breakup the time it needed to heal.

With the years, I became spiteful, moody, I cultivated an unhealthy feeling inside of me and it all affected my actions in my everyday life. I often resorted to negativity and verbal attacks, threats, psychological violence (often without realizing it) and, because of my depression, I was unable to deal with a stable job for medium or long amounts of time.

The advent of Urban Dungeon had worsened these negative feelings and, in the position of power I found myself in, I probably psychologically abused certain people and my recurring poverty meant that, several times, I became dependent of my partners. The taste of power went up to my head. The simple guy became a vindictive, cruel and sometimes illogical guy.

Each breakup in my D/s relationships or love life was epic, laborious and especially complicated. I often only looked at my side of things, without caring about the suffering of others. Sharing my mood swings on social network websites hurt many people… and today, I fully realize it.

Because I love this community, because I gave a lot despite everything, I have made the decision to leave my position as the owner of Urban Dungeon and to cease my BDSM activities.

I’m only a human being, but I did not like what I saw in the mirror when I woke up in the morning. So, a few weeks ago, I took a concrete action to fix my personal problems and as long as my mental and moral conditions do not improve, I will stay away… and I am considering a permanent departure.

I am currently being helped by professionals. Psychiatry and psychology. This help will allow me to thoroughly sort this inner mess, which will certainly require lots of time. It will be painful, but it is time I make this person disappear, this Kommandandt who has been so often talked about in the past few years, and not always for the right reasons.

In the process I have recently begun, I am lucky to have found an angel, a voice of reason, in my submissive, [Faye], who is slowly, and as much as she can, showing me how I can be myself again… how I can become a human being again. Her support is exceptional and I am very grateful of making me rediscover the simple things in life such as happiness, the right path, a life worth living.

So I take the time here to deeply apologize, before leaving, to all those I might have hurt. I was clearly not 100% myself during the past two or three years and I clearly owe you apologies. I have begun to contact each of these persons and to express my regret and present them my sincere apologies (to those who were ready to hear them). To those who wanted to receive them: exes, ex play partners, former friends, etc.

The path I am about to continue on, that I began treading too slowly, this path towards change, permanent change, a return to normal for me, Jack, will be long, painful, but I am ready to face it. I am tired of hurting people I care about, my entourage, and this scene that allowed me to develop myself.

Now that I have identified all my problems and what I must do, I must and will do it. I have already started this process. I will no longer live in negativity nor denial. I will not live in misguided pride. I no longer act in anyone’s name but mine. I will no longer try to run away and I will try to look at problems as they come and attempt to solve them and to make honorable amends at the best of my ability.

With that said, I offer my apologies to all persons, locations, events, venues or other entities to which I might have said things that were either negative, exaggerated or false. I ask all of you to forgive me. It was selfish and irrational of me.

I also offer my apologies to all persons I may have, directly or indirectly, abused of my power or position of power on. I am deeply sorry and I must also work on that important fact. Being a figurehead does not necessarily mean being a harsh dictator or an insensitive being looking for thrills.

I would also like to mention that several people, without naming anyone, out of respect, have deeply hurt me, have harassed me, have caused trouble for my family, have broken my heart and my kidneys… but I forgive you all, each and every one of you, WITH NO EXCEPTIONS. I am tired of living in bitterness, pain and bad memories. I now want to live day by day with a positive mindset.

I have decided to turn a new leaf, to work on myself, no matter how long it will take, even if it takes the rest of my life… so that I don’t make anyone relive these dark years! Not myself and especially not those I love and the woman I love. No one deserved the shitty attitude I may have sometimes displayed.

Now, I take my leave to heal, feel better, take care of myself, my life and my partner. Big thanks to those who have supported me against all odds during all those years, but especially MissOpale who, despite everything, despite certain disagreements, has always been a loyal partner during our adventure. She is also one of the reasons why I am still here, typing behind a keyboard to you today.

The Urban Dungeon was a dream, built with love, passion and in the image of the people that would spend time in it. MissOpale will take my place and will continue the mission of the Urban without me. I will no longer be associated to this place, even if my soul and my heart will remain Urban forever. For the love I have for this community and my friends, I pass the torch. Do not deprive yourself of a beautiful place to play and meet people. And I will add that MissOpale is an extraordinary person. I had become the problem… and I am doing what it takes to fix that problem. I do not deserve a prestigious position at the moment and I especially do not deserve to be a standard bearer. Do not make a venue and fantastic events pay for my mistakes, as it would be unjust of you to make an entire, wonderful team pay for mistakes I have made in the past due to my lack of a better judgement while I was going through depression!

With that said, and with a tear to my eye, I tell you… see you next time, if there ever will be one.

What happens now?

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