Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Great Price For A Pair Of Floggers!

Item #PL-01A - The Red Menace II.

I asked Steve about the Red Menace items that are on sale until the end of 2015, and he says that, compared to the standard “Mister Thuddy” flogger that I’m always raving about, "It's probably about the same length, but a bit lighter. They are around 10-12 ounces each, total weight. The tails are suede.”

This means that they would be a very good choice to buy, two at one time, for the purpose of Florentine Flogging. Until December 31, they cost THIRTY BUCKS FOR TWO OF THEM!



UPDATE:

 I bought a pair, they arrived today, and I could not be more pleased. Perfect weight, size and balance for Florentine flogging. I plan to use them a LOT. I have seen floggers of equivalent quality and features for as much as $180 (EACH!) elsewhere.

Here is the page for learning Florentine flogging (if you don't live in San Diego, in which case you WANT to take Travis' class!)

Friday, December 25, 2015

Coming Out, Forty Years Ago Today

I was walking with my niece, and she asked me how I came out to my family.  I suddenly realized that the story that I was about to tell her, happened exactly forty years ago, on Christmas day, 1975:

This photo was taken a month or so before the fateful day.
I lived in a matriarchy, with no support from my older brothers, or my father.
Yes, Navy boys could have facial hair back then.



After twelve years of Catholic school, I was done with going along with everybody's expectation of what a good Catholic boy meant.  I had spent all of high school with a girlfriend, and yes, we had had sex, but I had to fantasize about my male friends in order to go through with it.

I had been in the Navy for a year and a half or so, by this time.  I had been the youngest male in my generation, and my mom had been trying her hardest to make me a "Momma's boy".  I was tired of it, and I needed to cut the apron strings.  I achieved that goal.

I showed up on the back of my boyfriend's motorcycle, with both of us in full leather.  We walked in, and I handed my mom her present, saying "Merry Christmas, Mom - This is my boyfriend Mark, and he will be sleeping with me tonight"  After a few minutes of stony, shocked silence, my mom blew up, disowned me, and ejected us from the house.

Try to understand - I had no better ideas on how to come out.  My role-models as a gay man were Charles Nelson Reilly, Paul Lynde and Liberace.  In other words, freaks, pansies and objects of ridicule, as far as society was concerned.  Elton John would take another year to come out, after I did. I was the VERY FIRST openly gay person in my entire family's genetic history.  This was unknown territory.

Also, I was an angry punk in those days - I had attempted suicide twice (the world doesn't allow for gay Catholic boys), and I had recently nearly died from a drug overdose.  It shocked me into finally seeing a (luckily, gay) Navy psychiatrist, and he helped me to quit fighting my nature. I spent the last 2-1/2 years of my enlistment being VERY OPENLY GAY. Back before Reagan came in, bringing the Moral Majority with him, we were the new Civil Rights movement, and nobody dared to hassle me.

I quit having anything to do with anyone in my family, and I spent a few years diving deep into the gay culture of the 1970's.  I pigged-out, and did my best to give up on ever seeing my family again.  However, right around the time that so many of my beloved friends, lovers and mentors died, my sisters sought me out.  They made it clear that they loved me, and wanted me in their lives.

My family was deeply dysfunctional, and I never had any relationship with my much-older brothers that was losable in the first place.  Same with my father.  I never regained any kind of friendly relationship with my mom, who died fourteen years later, STILL opening every conversation with "You DO know that you're going to hell, right?"

From the perspective of four decades further along, I can tell you that it turned out a lot better than I ever expected, back then. I get together with my sisters twice every year, and we celebrate family with our loved ones around us.  Somehow, I became the family patriarch... the most-loved uncle, and the grandpa-substitute for the youngsters whose own grandpas don't care for them.

I've had two sisters and a niece come out in the last few decades, and I like to think that my own path made it easier for them.  I have no regrets.  If I had to do it all over again, I would.  The experience helped me to become the man that I am.

Thursday, December 17, 2015

New FLOGGER Recommendation For Shorter Folks!

This article is part of my Mentoring for Tops/Sirs/Doms/Masters curriculum.






My buddy Steve at FlogMeBaby.com has sent me a sample of a new style of flogger, and I can honestly say that I am thrilled.  THRILLED!

Click here, and scroll 3/4 of the way down.  It’s item number MMT-01, costs $29.95, and it is named “The Napoleon", though “THE MINI-DOM’S SECRET WEAPON” is my own preferred name for it!

For decades, I have owned probably a total of a hundred or so floggers, and most of them have been long, heavy floggers, which are great for ME, because I’m super-tall ("five foot seventeen, when standing fully erect").  I'm astonished that I've never seen this exact style before, in 38 years of throwing floggers around.

My reasons for enjoying the new, shorter and THUDDY flogger are:

- Body kinematics - The longer floggers are fine for those of us with orangutan arms, but people with shorter forearm bones can’t match up to the longer tails comfortably, long-term. I’m sure that I wouldn’t like a 4-1/2-foot flogger, if that was my only choice!

- Chest flogging - I like a shorter set of tails for beating the chest area, preferably while a third party HOLDS the bottom.  The shorter tails take the stress out of hitting the face accidentally, from the usual arms-length.  Unfortunately, most shorter floggers are CRAP.  Flimsy, or sting-y, or even just made to look STYLISH to look impressive, but useless otherwise… Inappropriate for the job. THUD is what is needed on the marketplace in this size-class, not more damn sting.  This new one is perfection itself, so far.

- Fashion - I can arrive stylishly decorated with the longer floggers hooked to my belt, because I am tall.  Not everybody can do that, without dragging the tails along the ground.  A LOT of shorter Doms will like this one.

- Quality - The handle is using the same weave-pattern and leather-quality as my $350 custom-built “Olde Guarde” flogger, for less than 12 percent of the cost.

Just testing it upon my palm, I REALLY like it.  I'm currently lining-up feedback from some shorter Doms, who will help me to evaluate it from their perspective. I will add it below as time goes by.

This looks like a whole new market-segment that has been crying out for a change!

Saturday, December 5, 2015

Grieving on My 60th Birthday

On December 6th, 2015, I am turning 60.  And, I keep on crying.

I miss my brothers from decades ago, who died of AIDS, and who will forever be young, slender and handsome in my memories.  When the server asks me to make a "birthday wish" as he brings me a dessert with a lit candle upon it, I wish that I could simply REMEMBER those men's names.  And I cry.

I wish that I could see them with me, ogling the server's cute ass; they should be gray-bearded, with Daddy bellies, bad hearing and eyesight, and having health issues related to old age. They never got the chance.  I did, and I'm feeling a big old load of Survivor's Guilt.  It's not rational, but it's ever-present.

I've done a couple of hundred hour's worth of therapy, self-help workshops and the like, trying to deal with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but nobody has been able to help me grieve for a GENERATION.  It feels like one lifetime is not enough to deal with such pain.

Following my sweet and patient husband's advice, I want to tell a story about a glorious gay-male subculture that existed for a brief time, and then died.  This is a story that I have never told before:



This is what I looked like, back then.  
I am with my nephew, who I raised as my son.
Yes, even in my early twenties, I was a "Daddy"! 

Some of you may be familiar with the documentary called "Paris Is Burning," which tells the story of a New York subculture of gay men and transgender women.  They created an artistic form of dance called "vogueing", which Madonna saw and popularized 25 years ago. Their story is rich and valuable, and I'm very glad that it was documented on film.

My version of that story has existed only in my memories, until now, since I am the only survivor of a similar subculture that existed in San Diego, back in the late 1970's. It didn't have a name, and it wasn't formalized.  Madonna never made a video popularizing our special tribe, but oh, how I wish that she had.

There were about forty of us, at our peak - Young gay men, most of us with zero support from our genetic families, having been disowned for being gay.  We lived in "Boy's Town" (Hillcrest, in San Diego), because the gay ghetto supplied us with a self-protective environment.  We found each other on the dance-floors at the many local discotheques.

We gathered together, based upon raw, native talent. We all acted as scouts, bringing in new men who showed something "extra" on the dance floor, in the form of special, creative moves.  As our group grew, we would arrive at a disco and TAKE OVER. We would encourage each other to take greater risks with our creativity, in order to impress our peers, and to "win" the evening's competition.

These were men with large amounts of a special ability, in the form of bodily–kinesthetic intelligence. In my own case, I know over 400 forms of dance, though I have never taken a formal class. I simply have a rare, special talent for watching somebody dance for about a minute (at most), and then I can do that dance, perfectly, and then extrapolate new moves to go along with it.

I can hear a specific rhythm, and then match that rhythm with free-form dance that changes wildly every few seconds, and never repeats. Those 400 or so forms of dance are still in me, decades later. They are in my arsenal. I never fail to impress the hell out of young people at wedding receptions.

Imagine my joy at finding dozens of brothers who shared my special superpower, while we were so young and energetic.  We'd gather together several times a week, and do our best to encourage each other to create the most exciting new moves and dance-forms.  Words can't convey how deeply satisfying it was to earn the respect of these superbly talented men.


The closest equivalent to our subculture can be seen in the recent Emerald City scene in the middle of "The Wiz Live!" that was broadcast on NBC in December 2015. The choreographer did NOT make up those moves - they are all carefully gathered from historically-documented "vogue" subculture.

Now, imagine forty of us, wildly working just as hard to stand out, in a crowd of ultra-proficient dancers.  Try to imagine the reactions of the crowd around us, who had arrived specifically to appreciate our thoroughly entertaining crew.

Back in the days when Saturday Night Fever was new and in the theaters, my Navy buddies would rave about the movie, saying "You've never seen dancing so good!"  So, I went, and spent the whole movie sneering at the contrived and stiff choreography. I was hanging-out with men who each had more raw, wild talent than that entire dance crew in the movie, combined.

Up to that point, I had been a freak in my Catholic family... The very first openly-gay person in my entire family history, and it was NOT a good time to come out, but I knew that I had to, because my idol Harvey Milk had told me so. It was rough, but I have no regrets.

This was a peak time in my young life - I had found my TRIBE!  We were on the same rocket-ship to the stars, together.

Then, the men around me started to sicken, go downhill fast, and then die. My dance-brothers would show me their dark-brown lesions, or the thrush in their throats. They would suddenly disappear, to move back to Iowa or Nebraska, to die with their families.  Or, they would die in local hospitals, where nobody was allowed anywhere near them.  I have documented more about this time, elsewhere:

Laying My Ghosts to Rest, After Far Too Long:

Part One and Two: Fun Stuff, and In the Midst of the Holocaust
Part Four: Eric's Story
Part Five: Catharsis At Last



So, where does this leave me, after decades of grief, loss and Survivor's Guilt? I manage pretty well, most days.  Like so many gay men of my age and experience, I'm emotionally damaged, and always will be.  On the good side, it has caused me to be empathetic to an extraordinary level. I also cry multiple times a week, and it is always cleansing, but sometimes, it is embarrassing. I have to be okay with that.

I still dance, though I'm pretty creaky, and I don't have that youthful stamina any more.  However, when I hit my groove, and the old feelings come back, I am MANY men dancing, all in one.  I hold my long-lost brothers in my heart, and honor them by dancing FOR them, since they can't dance any more.

I hope to see you on the dance-floor!



Feedback from Sir Ian:

Dear Papa Tony,

I just read your post in FMSD about grieving your 60th and I saw something online that I wanted you to see as well, if you have not yet. Can you can make out a dancing man on the part of this bowl that is facing you?

By the time men get to our age,  most, maybe all, men have had their perfection, youth, dreams and relationships profoundly affected by pain, loss, ill health, missed opportunity and a whole truckload of unfairness.

But for the survivors, our cracks and imperfections are filled with gold.
Glistening for all to see, so we don’t kid anybody, least of all ourselves.
Softer than steel because we are not superhuman and have vulnerabilities to balance our developing wisdom.
And as in kintsukuroi, standing tall in our new maturing beauty, impossible to appreciate as beauty by a child who will only see the damage, but an adult celebration of the result of the complex natural forces of life.

And what of the men who did not survive? If those men who you lost so many years ago could see you now, what you have done repairing your cracks with gold - if they could see what you have done with your community, what they never got a chance to do, even if they had wanted to, I am sure they would deeply thank you and consider your mentorship, love and enthusiasm a perfect way to honor them. No golden repair needed there, my friend.

Love,

Ian



Feedback from James Xavier:

Nice piece Anthony HUGS!!

I didn't come out until 2014 at the age of 51 after 34yrs of marriage. I was fortunate in some ways that I didn't come out in the mid 1970's.

The way I enjoy sex with multiple partners I would have never survived.

One of the difficult aspects of being closeted during the epidemic was going to so many gay men's funerals as a Hetero and listening to the whispers about how they died of "the AIDS" and knowing I would have been one of them. Unlike most of the people in attendance I understood what AIDS was and how it spread.

I went to 11 funerals in the late 80's but 6 were made more tragic by the fact they were 3 couples, all Masc, muscled Latin men I worked with. The type I enjoy dating today, most of our coworkers didn't even know they were gay until they got sick.

When I came out I did feel some sense of guilt for two reasons. One I came out at a time when it was far less dangerous socially and two I came out when PrEP was available.

I got over the guilt about coming out late in life after realizing how much I suffered in the closet for so long. I was attracted to females and being gay didn't seem like an option back then so I truly believed I could stay Hetero.

As for item two, coming out when HIV was not only survivable but also preventable, I accepted that I cannot bring any of the wonderful gay men back and instead have become an advocate for PrEP.

Gay people have a unique ability to enjoy life free from the oppressive mostly religious based societal rules and part of that enjoyment comes from embracing sex in many forms.

So I work to allow us to reclaim the sexual freedom we knew back then and that is how I deal with my struggle for those who are no longer here.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Giving Permission, as a Guiding Philosophy

This article is part of my Mentoring for Tops/Sirs/Doms/Masters curriculum.


UPDATE:  Here is the audio from the follow-up discussion.




Decades ago, I figured something out, and it has guided me well as a leader, and a Sir:
People generally don't give themselves permission to have a good time.  They wait for someone else to ring the bell, and to get the party started.
I can't claim to be like everybody else.  I'm extroverted, perceptive and highly intuitive.  This may or may not describe you.  However, I'm going to assume that you share my desire to guide people into doing what they want, with all of their hearts.

This applies to me as a community leader, and also as a Sir to submissives.  It also works very nicely in the general public.  I am going to use a series of "parables" (stories with a moral center) and instructional text to illustrate what I am attempting to teach:



1. Skating in the 1970's

Back in the Xanadu era, roller-skating was BIG.  Here in San Diego, the roads in Balboa Park were divided down the middle: Cars on one side, roller-skaters on the other.  My older boyfriend and I were skating in the park one summer evening, and we heard dance-music coming from up ahead.


We saw about 400 people standing in a crowd, all facing inward.  Somebody had set up an enormous boom-box (it was new technology back then, and very expensive) and was playing really nice disco music.  In the center of the crowd were about 100 people dancing joyfully.  Everybody else was looking on, yearning to be invited to join in.

I saw this, and yelled out "EVERYBODY, LET'S DANCE!" and the crowd instantly started dancing. ALL of them.

Here is the obvious point:

In many of life's circumstances, nobody would have gotten the party started, and those folks would have missed-out on a peak life experience.  My ability to see the need, my desire to cause a breakthrough opportunity, and then my impulse to act upon it, made a pleasurable difference in those people's lives.

If that describes you (when you are at your best), then please read on.



2. Sex with Colt Models, Part One



This section does not cover the way that I think nowadays, as I enter old age.
It is included to explain how I started developing the philosophy, as a young man.

Back in the 1970's, the absolute ultimate in male erotica came from Colt Studios, at least in the opinion of MY leathermen's crowd. Colt was selling a lot of calendars, jerk-off books, videos, photos and camera slides, back in the days before home video and the Internet.

I used to work out my muscles a lot, as a young man.  I was going to the Bodybuilders Gym six days a week in Silverlake California, by West Hollywood.  I developed a technique for having sex with Colt models that NEVER failed.  
This next part is going to sound like I am bragging.  That is not my intention.  My goal is to illustrate the larger point.
The gym was just down the road from one of Colt Studios' photography studios.  There was an agreement between the two businesses that the models would come down to the gym and get a good "pump" before being photographed.  That fit in nicely with MY plans, as well.  :-)

I'd see a handsome new face on a muscular body, early in the day, and I'd stare at him.  He'd catch my eye, look down, and then look at me again, to find me still staring.  I'd jerk my chin upwards at him, and then ignore him for a while.  He'd start his workout, and I would continue mine, keeping an eye on him in the wall-mirrors.  

As soon as I'd see him sitting upon the Preacher Curl machine, I'd walk up behind me so that he could only see me in the mirror.  I'd say "How much longer do you have on your workout?"  He'd reply something like "Maybe twenty minutes".  I'd say "Let me know when you are done," and then would just walk away.

Sure enough, every time, there'd be a tongue-tied man at my elbow twenty minutes later, and I'd say "I've got another five minutes - why don't you head into the steam room, and I will join you there."  He'd pause, and I would say "Go ahead - It's okay", and he'd go.  Every time.

After five minutes, I would join him in the steam room.  He'd be nervous, shy and unsure of himself, because underneath the intimidatingly hyper-masculine externals, there'd be a shy guy who had no idea how to deal with the situation. However, he'd be deeply intrigued.

I'd start playing with him, and talking filthy, and he'd be getting more and more excited.  At the same time, I could tell that he was nervous.  His face was on all of the magazine covers and calendars, and he didn't want anybody to walk in, and witness him being a little slut-boy-bottom.

I'd say "I can tell that you are nervous.  That's okay - I know what to do to fix it.  Put on JUST your shorts, nothing else.  Head on upstairs.  The bathroom at the end of the hall has a door that locks, and the fan comes on really loud when you turn the light on."

Now, let's pause a moment to picture the scenario… Imagine any one of the men in the pictures above, wearing nothing but wet, nylon gym-shorts, trying to hide a pardon, and trying to nonchalantly SNEAK past a bunch of cock-eyed queens in a packed gay gym.  Nonetheless, he'd be in a state of excited anticipation, and nothing was going to stop him.

I'd enter the bathroom shortly after him, and make a big show of locking the door.  I'd firmly shove him up against the wall as the fan roared, and would get him more and more stimulated.  He'd be rock-hard and eager.  Then, I'd say "Turn Around."

He'd say "What?"  

This happened EXACTLY the same way, with eighteen different men over the course of a couple of years. Every time.  

I'd say "You heard me - Turn around".  Just by the grace of God, I'd happen to have a small container of lube with me.  Imagine that.  I'd play with his butt, stimulating his prostate with my thumb.  He'd get close to cumming, and I'd tell him to leave his dick alone for a moment.  I was "edging" him, getting him more and more excited.

When I could tell that he was ready, I'd stand up and say "Now, back up to me", and at that point, he wasn't saying "What?" - he was making whimpering and other greedy noises.  Back then, my party trick was to always time things, so that we would always cum at the same time as I fucked him.

We'd clean off afterward, thank each other, and part ways.



3. Sex with Colt Models, Part Two

After a while, word got out about me. Muscular men tend to hang out in herds, and I'd see them at the gym on a Monday morning, clustering together, and checking me out from across the room.  They'd individually start flirting with me, metaphorically dropping their soap, and their handkerchiefs.

Back in those days of the late 1970's, my older boyfriend and I had a sling-room in our home.  My boyfriend was the proverbial "Good Time That Was Had By All".  Every weekend, we'd host a big fuck/fist/kink party.  By the end of the weekend, I'd be DRAINED.  The very last thing that I wanted was sex.

So, I'd look at all of these highly-eager men, and I'd sigh.  I'd go up to the first man and say "See the clock?  At 9:45, be in the locker room".  Then, I'd go up the next man, and say the same thing, and so on.  I'd arrive in the locker-room (intentionally one minute late), to find six or seven baffled men looking at each other.

I'd say "Everybody strip down, and head into the steam-room", and they would all shuck clothes as fast as they could. They would crowd into that small space, and I'd point at one of them, and say "YOU!  You are the Designated Target for today."  I'd point at another man: "You!  Suck his cock."  "You!  Play with his ass."  "You!  Play with his nipples."  and so forth...

Once they were swarming all over the lucky and very happy Designated Target, I'd say "My work here is done!" and then I'd leave.

My point:

By engaging in Permission Giving behavior, I'm causing "explosions of joy" that would never have occurred, in that time, in that place, and in that way, otherwise.

The secret is to tell folks to do what they want the MOST to do, but usually, they can't get over their inhibitions first.  My gentle nudges are what shove 'em over the edge.  Why gentle?  Because there is a huge difference between Force, and Strength. You will notice that I did not bark abusively at them, bully them, or assume that they would follow orders that were not to their advantage or pleasure.

NOBODY wants a Sir to assume that his orders will be followed, before having some form of credibility first.  We've all heard of the Top who walks up to a stranger in a bar and yells "Slave!  Drop to your knees!"  At that point, the vast majority of men or women will laugh and walk away, even if he is otherwise attractive.  His words are writing checks that his credibility can't cash. He hasn't learned the distinction between being bossy, and being a leader.

Based upon what I have said in my story up to this point, what is the difference between me and that other guy?  I am calm, sensitive to the man or woman in front of me, and gauging their reactions in a pleasant way. I'm playful, and I'm not hiding my feelings.  Stoic isn't attractive to most folks.  I'm being TRUE to my feelings, from moment to moment, and showing how I am having fun with it.  This establishes trust, and credibility.

I used my observations of the surrounding circumstances to be able to tell when it was time to act, so that everybody (including me) had the most fun.  Our culture devalues intuition, because not everybody has it in large amounts.  We are supposed to elevate logic above all.  However, intuition is like a muscle.  The more that you trust your gut, the better that you get at succeeding.

I want you to succeed.



4. Touch = Credibility (most times)

Imagine some stranger coming up to you without any howdy-do. He starts pawing at you sexually, and without any warning. Been there.

Now, imagine some guy "talking at" you, from a distance, with his arms crossed, and giving no sign of emotion or empathy.  This is also familiar.


Those two extreme examples are what we have to balance between in the middle, shifting from moment to moment. Our goal is to connect with others in an effective way, where everyone wins, joyfully.  I'm going to use the word "joy," one more time.  That's the best goal, so please keep it in mind.

I play with new people in public spaces as a kinky man and mentor, very regularly (dozens of times per month, lately).  My specialty is newbies.  When I am seeking to connect with somebody for the first time, I use touch as my main form of communication.  My spoken words add value, too, but when I touch the shy, new and unsure new playmate, I say so much more, and on a deeper, instinctive  level.

I use NON-sexual touch, when I am establishing credibility - I may touch their shoulder, or their hand, or on their lower back.  If they are starting to relax more, I may use the "Reassuring Dad" touch - the gentle, affectionate hand on the back of the neck that says "I am here to take care of you".

I'm being the opposite of the "all hands and glands" approach.  I am patient, respectful, and attentive.  I am using keen observational skills to reassure them on many levels that the scary Sir is going to help them to reach their next level, and to thank me for it afterward.

As I explain elsewhere, words aren't enough.  Otherwise, we could simply text-message our desires at each other, and be done with that.  The goal when playing with somebody new is to feed the parts of their brain that need reassurance, seduction and relaxation.  That shy new playmate WANTS to be seduced.  We are just providing the Enzyme Effect:

Imagine a 55-gallon drum of clean, fresh milk.  You drop in a tiny speck of enzyme, and a few hours later, you have a whole bunch of cottage cheese.  The enzyme doesn't provide the energy for such a massive transformation. The MILK does.  The enzyme "gives it permission" to shift into this new phase.

This is true of human interactions, as well.  If we are conscious of our powers as permission-givers, then we can cause massive transformations in how the people around us experience life.

When I am playing with somebody for the first time, I am being transparent as water, from moment to moment.  I am not hiding my feelings at all.  The shy, new playmate's Bullshit Detectors are going at full crank, and I'm consciously aware of it.  So, I don't offer any conflicting information. My calmness and self-assurance provide signals that increase trust.  I am consciously, and continuously, developing credibility.

Obviously, the previous paragraphs apply to the beginning of the play.  Once trust has been established, then the intensity and the power-flow will ramp way up.  Words will give way to actions. However, you can't skip any steps, if you plan to be the kind of Dom/Top/Sir that excites, pleases and SUCCEEDS, every time.



5. Permission-Giving as a Way of Life

I've been working with these concepts for almost forty years. I make no guarantee that they will work for everybody.  Some folks might not have the right perceptive abilities that allow for establishing commonality and trust.  They would need different advice than I could provide.

My goal in kinky play is to create "extreme intimacy." This requires focus, sensitivity, and caring.  If you've stuck with me so far, you're very likely to be exactly the sort of person who needs to hear this.

I have been very successful as a family-member, as a father, as a community leader, as a Neighborhood Watch Block Captain, and as a computer consultant.  At all points, I have been creating circumstances that lead to exciting breakthroughs, for myself and the folks around me.  I am well-loved and respected, and when I arrive, heads turn to keep an eye on me.  Everybody's waiting to see what new, magical possibilities will show up.

However, I'm getting old, and tired.  Physically, I can keep up, but mentally, I struggle.  So, my hope in sharing this information is that more and more younger folks will take up the challenge, and create "happiness explosions" for decades to come!

Thursday, September 17, 2015

For Tops: Preparation and Seduction, Before Fucking A Newbie's Ass

This article is part of my Mentoring for Tops/Sirs/Doms/Masters curriculum.


UPDATE: Wow - This page is in line to become the most-popular article that I've written so far, 24 hours after posting it. It's going really viral, in the USA, Malaysia, Poland, Canada, the UK, Taiwan, Germany, Singapore, France and the Philippines!  Clearly, this is a message that needs to get out there.  I suspect a lot of men are sending this article to their boyfriends.

UPDATE 2:  Here is the audio from the follow-up discussion on this topic.  We have some GREAT new stars among us!


My goal is to teach the reader how to be a superb Top, with eager bottoms singing his (or her) praises.  The steps that I list below can be accomplished in a few short minutes, or it may take months, but the end-result is a piggy, grateful bottom that can take a cock of any size without drugs, stretching, harm or pain of any kind.  Being a gay man, I write from that perspective, but not with any intent of trying to exclude anybody.
Question: In the event that you play with a bottom who is very inexperienced and hasn't bottomed much (or at all), do you give him a some time (a few minutes or so) to get used to you when you first start to fuck, or do you just thrown him into the deep end of the pool and take him to pound town?
If somebody takes an inexperienced bottom and intentionally takes him directly to Pound Town without negotiating exactly that beforehand, then he deserves to be chased away with rocks thrown at his head.  Why?  Because I have spent the last four decades helping damaged, frightened men to get back in touch with their assholes as sexual playthings, after years of avoidance.  

Too many men are doing what dogs do, which is to jump on, pump, squirt and then jump off. It's great for the Top.

It can easily be terrible/traumatic/damaging for the shy, new, eager and inexperienced bottom.  I speak from direct experience.  I've always had freakishly large, attractive rump-muscles.  My nickname used to be Thunder Buns. So, in my younger days experimenting with gay sex, I'd let men fuck my ass.

I'd bite the pillow, bleed, suffer for days afterward, and regret having given up pussy for dick.  I figured it was somehow MY fault, because I wasn't keeping up. Then, one day, my life changed:

I was off-duty (Navy) and staying off-base in an apartment building.  It was laundry day, and a small, mousy and not-all-that-attractive man was working HARD to get me to have sex with him.  I finally gave in, figuring that I'd throw him a thrill.  Oh, I was so wrong.

He rocked my WORLD.  I basically became his butt-slave for three weeks.  I'm naturally inclined to be a Top, but I wanted to learn from the obvious expert, and he taught me some deep wisdom.  Here is a summary, for those of you who want to be a popular, well-rated Top, with plenty of word-of-mouth referrals:

• ASSUME that the guy you're about to play with, is eager, inexperienced and needing some seduction.  Don't assume that he's an experienced porn-actor who can take anything from anybody. Be pleasantly surprised if he proves otherwise, but it's never a bad idea to start slow and careful.

• Stick a well-lubed finger up his ass, with a SHORT, SMOOTH NAIL.  If I see heteroporn with a woman sticking blood-red talons up a guy's ass, I cringe.  The flesh down there is delicate. There are multiple, excellent reasons for sticking a lubricated finger up there:

• Check to see if he's relaxed and ready.  If his outer ass-ring is CLENCHED, he's not ready yet. The problem is not down in his ass, it's between his ears.  Maybe he's afraid, or he's been hurt before, or he doesn't trust you yet.  So, it's your job to seduce him into relaxing.  More below.

• Adding some well-needed lube.  Dry fucks, using nothing but "spit and determination" are classic porn-video fantasies, but again, we can't assume that our newest partner is at that advanced stage.  As we used to say back in the 1970's, "if it's not dripping off of the ceiling, it's not enough lube!"


• Finding his prostate, AKA "Joy Buzzer #1".  The prostate is a rounded mound on the other end of his dick, inside the ass, and its location can change quite a bit (deep vs. shallow) from man to man.  Its job is to generate the fluid that his sperm swims around in. Properly stimulated, a prostate will generate enough additional fluid to give the bottom "blue balls" after a while, leading to eagerness for more delightful butt-sex. YOUR job is to take careful note of its location, and then to please the hell out of it.

• Checking to see if he's got any poop up there.  Yes, from an aesthetic standpoint, it is unpleasant, but from a relaxed-butt standpoint, it's very unhelpful.  I don't know how scientifically accurate this next assertion is, but it's what I learned a long time ago from some VERY advanced players: There is a bundle of nerves at the base of your spine, that keeps you from pooping when you walk.  If there is poop in your lower bowel, your asshole will clench, whether you want it to, or not.  There are zillions of articles on the Internet on how to douche an ass.

Let's talk about Operant Conditioning, in the context of butt-sex:

I'll call it "Positive Reinforcement", instead.  To train a shy, new, eager bottom to CRAVE more, I have to take him through many steps, with patience and respect, giving rewards for behavior that moves the ball forward, and gently ignoring the stuff that doesn't work at the moment.

As a high-quality Top, MY job is to seduce the bottom.  What does this mean?  Establishing Trust with a Capital T.  Being true with my feelings and thoughts, from moment to moment. Staying in communication.  NOT using "Porn Dialog" ("Fuck Yeah.  Fuck Yeah"), if it's not truly what I'm feeling.

Every one of us has a voice inside our heads, telling us to beware what is happening, or to tell ourselves that we are surely going to fail, or that maybe the guy we are playing with thinks our dick/belly/ass/back is too hairy/big/small/old/whatever. That noise is also in your new bottom's head, and it wants to tell him that he is heading for a brick wall.  YOUR job is to talk openly, honestly and affectionately about your feelings and desires from moment to moment.  Why?  Because it silences and stills the voice inside his head, and he's GRATEFUL for the relief.

If I'm playing with a man's ass for the first time, I reward him for each stage that he attains in his new status as a piggy bottom:

• If his ass is tight enough to sharpen pencils, I will stimulate the OUTSIDE with pleasurable attention, using tongue and fingers.  The dick does NOT show up at this stage.  Oh, no. We don't want any panic at this early stage.  I will praise how well he is doing, no matter how small the accomplishment.  I tell him that I'm okay if we DON'T actually fuck until the second or third date (or a month!), which takes the pressure off of him to catch up faster than he is prepared for, mentally.  It also gives him the pleasurable knowledge that there is more to look forward to, with this REALLY nice, respectful Top.

• If he's starting to relax a bit, I will use the phrase "Breathe me in", while starting to penetrate him with my smallest finger.  If he clenches/spasms, STOP MOVING.  No pulling out, no pushing in.  It's a normal response.  Once his ass stops spasming, praise him for relaxing, and help him to know how he is progressing.

• If he has taken the smallest finger well, slowly pull out, re-lube and then bring it on back in.  There shouldn't be any spasming at this point.  Praise him for being looser than before, but only if you mean it.  He can spot bullshit. Your goal is to take him through the stages, with no rush or pressure.
Why am I taking such a (literally) "slow-poke" approach?  Because of the possibility of PTSD.  Too many men have been damaged by inept Tops.  Always assume that he is begging you to help him get past it.  Continuing:

Here is an animation of me, flaring my nostrils.  Back when I was a kid, I sat in front of a mirror, and kept practicing, until I found the mental "switch" to flare my nostrils.  Here I am, half a century later, and I STILL know where that switch is.

It's the same with an ass.

Normally, we poop (and occasionally, fart) with our asses.  We are NOT born with the knowledge of how to relax our ass.  How do I know?  If I order a man to "RELAX THAT ASS", there is no telling what he'll do in his attempts to comply.  He might get it right, and, many times, he won't.  It's your job to help him find the switch inside his own head, so that his ass can be receptive, welcoming and eager, any time.

To accomplish this noble goal, we generously use praise, when it is earned.  If he graduates to your longest finger, have him go on hands and knees and switch to your thumb, with a nail that is equally smoothly-trimmed and sandpapered.  This is where it gets really FUN.
DON'T offer him drugs, including poppers. They cause the scared part of his brain to get ignored, sure, but they also cause the pain-receptor part of his brain to keep from screaming "DAMAGE!" I'd rather have 1% of true, connected and ecstatic sex, than 100% of the fake shit involving drugs. I remind the reader: I started having sex (with thousands of men) in the 1970's, with the hardest of hardcore players. I know about drugs, and the cost. They truly are not necessary.
So, it's thumb time:  Your goal is to EROTICIZE ass-play for this man, and many times, it will be his first experience of such a thing.  You are doing him a world of good, so press onwards.  Lube up his cock really well, insert your thumb in his ass, and start (gently) twiddling his prostate. Rub in circles directly on top of it.  Or, press on the closest part of the prostate, and rub from side to side.

If he complains that he needs to pee, accept it graciously, but chances are very good that he needs no such thing. He's so unfamiliar with prostate-stimulation that he can't sub-divide the sensations enough to tell what he's feeling.  This will pass.

If your thumb is comfortably, non-painfully inside his ass, order him (in a no-nonsense manner) to start playing with his dick.  If his prostate gets all swollen and rock-hard, tell him to leave his dick alone, because that is a flashing-red-light signal that he is about to cum.  That means that you are being successful in teaching him that his ass is for sexual pleasure. Keep supporting more and more excitement, and edging him closer, but not necessarily to orgasm.

However, if he DOES cum with something up his ass, tell him "Don't hold back!  Give me everything!" Why?  Because you are training him to be delighted that his ass is a source of sexual pleasure.  If he cums as a direct result of what you are doing, you're a hero in his eyes.  This is all to the good.

The next part is up to you:

Your goal is to get him ready for the Main Event, whether it's your cock, or a dildo, or whatever.  If you have a sizable object to insert, the bottom has to be comfortable with a certain number of fingers up his ass first, matching the diameter of the Object of Desire.  This may happen on Date Number One, or it may take patient, multiple trainings over weeks, using ever-slightly-larger toys, or groups of fingers, starting with two fingers, and moving up to three if necessary.

Keep being patient, and keep using the techniques I mentioned above this.  This is training and seduction.  You're creating beautiful new possibilities for a man that wants VERY much to earn your respect, and to give you every kind of pleasure.
What porn does NOT show you: That skinny twink has to get his ass ready with a series of ever-larger dildos, sometimes for hours, before he can take that monster cock.  That process never shows up in the video, because it's not sexy.  However, it's crucial.
You may have noticed something in my writing - I haven't talked about the Top's orgasms.  There will be plenty of those, and they'll be great, because you'll soon be fucking an eager, butt-hungry bottom-boy who LOVES what you do.  First, you have to get the bottom TRAINED.  Set it as a goal that he will NEVER endure even the slightest pain.  He will repay you many times over, and you'll be SUCH a happy Sir!

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Flagging Lavender, and Old Guard

Hanky code: Lavender.
QUESTIONS:-Does anyone know what it really mean?-Does it really exist within the Old Guard community?
Oh, lordy.  This again.  Sigh.

All right, then.

Back in the 70's, there were a LOT of gay people moving into large cities.  I referred to the "Gay Neighborhoods" as "Refugee Camps". Many, MANY gay/queer/trans people were fleeing the closed-minded, intolerant areas and establishing the Gay Ghettos, such as "Boy's Town" (West Hollywood) in Los Angeles, Hillcrest in San Diego, and the Castro and South of Market (Leather) areas of San Francisco.

Folks lost all desire to live in Squaw's Ass Idaho, or Chicken Leg, Nebraska. They picked their coastal major urban center and MOVED as soon as they could get mobile, and never looked back.

As more and more people came pouring in to the ghetto, buying up the old houses and fixing them up ("gentrifying"), the housing got too expensive to buy in the heart of the ghetto, so folks started expanding into outlying areas.  However, in the HEART of the ghetto, an enormous number of bathhouses, shops, boutiques, bistros and BARS started opening up to cater to a very, very gay clientele.

It was heaven, for a while. It was pure sexual adventure, all day, every day.  It was common to refer to each other as "numbers", as in "What do you think of that number over there?  I'd fuck him, even with your dick!"  In case it isn't obvious, the number referred to, was as in "Now Serving Number 64".  Yes, things really were that sexual.

In a crowded street, or a VERY crowded bar (one of very many in the city), you had thousands of possible sexual prospects.  You didn't have time to WASTE on idle chit-chat, flowers, boxes of candy, or four hours of buying drinks for the handsome stranger who you finally got into bed with, only to find that he was NOT a good sexual match for your particular tastes.

So, the hankie code was started.  Made it REALLY easy to spot an ideal prospect, hook up fast, throw his pretty ass out the door, take a Disco Nap (a nap that allowed you to stay up later on the dance floor that night), and get ready for the next man.

Many folks don't know this, but in the earliest days of wearing bandannas in the back pockets, or Sam Browne belt on your torso, or keys on your belt-loop, or gauntlets on your wrist, or armbands on your bicep:

On the East Coast, the sides were reversed from what was happening on the West Coast.  In New York for a short time, Tops flagged on the right, and bottoms on the left.  The West Coast won out, and from then on, Tops are on the left, and bottoms are on the right.

So - having established the background, and getting back to your actual question:

The ONLY colors of bandannas being sold everywhere back then (supermarkets, drug stores, Army/Navy surplus stores, porn shops and book stores) were:

- Black (SadoMasochist)
- Dark Blue (Ass Fucking)
- Hunter Green (Daddy/boy)
- Light Blue (Cocksucking)
- Gray (Bondage)
- Yellow (Piss)
- Red (Fist Fucking), and
- White (I have a Cold)
I heard of Brown (scat) eventually, but I'm not aware of anybody actually flagging brown until the early 1990's.

We thought that was a LOT.  This was rock-solid, and unchangeable.  NOBODY tried any other colors.  Period.  Besides that: There was no manufacturer MAKING any other colors!

Then, when folks did a lot of dying, and the bathhouses closed, and the Internet came along, and the bars closed, and the vast areas around the "Gay Neighborhood" became more and more diverse and open-minded for EVERYBODY, then folks started dicking around with the color charts.  They added more, and more, and more choices, and posting them online.  They made a fun project out of it:


Us old guys thought it was hilarious, to hear about "Gold Polka Dots on White" and the like.  In our experience, if one, isolated person was flagging an unusual color, they'd have had to spend the whole night having to explain what their colors meant, dozens of times, and not getting any nibbles. Seemed kinda pointless.

The actual fact is, what we did was new, and PRIMITIVE, back then.  We were making it up as we went along. We had NO experience, or fetishes for:

- Furries
- Puppies
- Latex
- Urethral Sounds
and a lot more fetishes that have become exciting and widespread in the Internet years.

So, the reason for the sigh:

Too many people read the "Old Guard" comic book, and not knowing any better, thought that it was the Bible.  Please don't assume that the old ways were somehow better, or wiser, or more rigorous.  We were living in a big, messy and constant flow of upward growth, but it was not in any way structured.  What people assume are true and long-lasting Olde Guarde protocols, were actually practiced back then by maybe one percent of the kinky gay-male Leathermen's community.  If that.

Why do newer folks follow the old precepts so avidly now?  I assume that it's because a few folks wrote books, unlike the majority of the rest of us, who didn't.  Just about everything else in our historical record was lost during the bad years, so this becomes the entirety of the story for the folks who weren't there.

Being Sadistic, and Still Staying Ethical

This article is part of my Mentoring for Tops/Sirs/Doms/Masters curriculum.


 Question: My other half has rape fantasies that scare him. I have matching fantasies on the other side. However, he is afraid that he will go too far and hurt me. He doesn't want to see himself as an abuser.

Oh, my - Yes, I can relate.

I was raised in a violently abusive household.  Every kind of abuse, and lots of it.  As soon as I escaped, I started therapy (over 200 hours), and attended many, many self-help workshops.  I did this to learn philosophies that worked better than "Whoever Hits The Hardest and Yells the Loudest Always WINS!".

Also, I actively sought-out wise, kind older gay leathermen as mentors.  This was in the mid-1970's.  They helped me to become a much, much better man. It has been a long, long road to where I am now.

However.

I'm currently nearly 60 years old, and I have had to come to a better understanding and acceptance of my darker side, which is always with me.  I call it the Dragon:


Many times in my long career as a kinky man, I have been called a "wuss", a "wannabe" or a "fake" because I'm entirely too considerate, perceptive and merciful in my approach to my submissives.  At least visibly, in public play.  What those people judging me don't understand is, I have lived every day in terror of what I'm truly capable of.

I don't do verbal abuse, because I know that I could very easily go waaaay too far, and damage the hell out of somebody.  Having seen the cost, up close, I relate to others as I myself would feel under the circumstances.  Folks who have never been truly challenged in life never have to develop the deepest empathy, that can make for a very caring Top.

I don't do physical abuse, either.  Ever.  Yet, how can I claim such a thing, when I will gladly whip somebody bloody?

Each one of these men were deliriously thankful, after our play.

Because I use "Calibration”:  I check in at regular intervals during play, and only take them as far as THEY are getting stimulated.  I’d rather UNDER-do it (particularly with beginners), and leave them wanting more, than to traumatize them.

I negotiate beforehand, every time.  I order the submissive to check in after every play-session via email and phone, to give me a better understanding of his progress and recovery.  My goal is to help him to push his limits further every time, and to gladly thank me for it afterward.

Wearing the Dragon on my back.
I only wear it when I MEAN it.

I still need (for my own, unique reasons, due to my circumstances) to be a ferocious, diabolical Dragon Master.  I have a lot of rage and aggression inside me, and it needs to come out and play periodically, to help me stay balanced in the rest of my life. This is not necessarily true of anybody else.  In order to look at myself in the mirror and to see a good, virtuous man, I have to express my darker side, but ONLY with men that eagerly want what I have to give.

I’m delighted to say, with great pride, that nearly every submissive comes to me and starts by saying “NO PAIN, NO MARKS” as a hard NO.  Yet, as the years go by, he easily and naturally becomes the “Pain and Pleasure” greedy bottom that I love to have in my life.  It takes patience, zero manipulation, and positive reinforcement to train a man to become the greedy and eager pain-pig he always wanted to be.

Final word?

The fact that I have never been arrested, put in jail or been killed, tells me that I can trust myself to safely set my own limits.  My submissives all love me, even years and decades after they’ve moved on in their lives.  So, I’ve recently learned to embrace my inner Dragon.  It hasn’t changed my BEHAVIOR, but it has allowed me to relax and let myself off of the hook.

That Which You Resist, Persists.  So, I choose to give myself a break.  That’s my advice to you, too.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

Tops Are Allowed To Be Picky

This article is part of my Mentoring for Tops/Sirs/Doms/Masters curriculum.





Somebody recently asked:

What do I do, if somebody skips a date without any communication, or shows up stoned or drunk, or wants more chances after a disastrous date?

I'm going to share some uncomfortable truths:

- There are a lot of bottoms in the world.
- There are fewer Tops.
- There are much fewer kinky/Leather/fetish Tops.
- There are MUCH fewer experienced, wise and respected kinky/Leather/fetish Tops.

We are just about as rare as Snow Leopards.

So, let's say that somebody has proved to be unable to provide the same 100% experience that I'm planning on delivering (and no, that does NOT include inexperience as a criteria - I LOVES me some eager newbies). They don't get another chance to ride the Tony Train.  Period.

If a man isn't already well-socialized, and a Boy Scout in nature (Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly and so forth… I'm not so fixated on "Clean"), then I do NOT have the time to arm-wrestle him into making adult decisions that he should have started making when he left childhood.

I posted the audio from one of my talks here, on the subject of establishing Trust with a Capital "T"

Trust isn't just something that the poor, dominated submissive has to receive from the Sadistic Top.  THE TOP NEEDS TO BE ABLE TO TRUST, TOO.  If we are ever going to reach new heights together, we have to be on the same wavelength, and constantly adjust our trajectories together through real, ongoing, high-bandwidth communication.  If I don't start with 100% shared respect and trust, then I'd rather go jerk off, and then read a book.

My time is too valuable to waste, teaching adult males why living in integrity is the best way. I've spent my life honing my craft, regaining pieces of myself that I lost along the way, and earning every bit of my personal growth.  I don't have to settle for flakes, druggies, etc.  Neither do you.

Yeah, I'm downright arrogant about it, and here is why:

There are 80,000 worthier, higher-quality bottoms in line behind him, eager to step up.

NEEEEXT!

Just because somebody feels NEEDY, doesn't obligate us to be FEEDY.

About Me

Introduction

I've written a lot of articles, and I've posted a lot of audio and video, covering the topic of being a well-loved, honorable and popular Sir / Master /Dominant. Why?  Because there simply aren't enough positive, respected role-models to go around.  I make no pretense of being anybody's Model of Masterly Perfection. In fact, there are folks out there who know a hundred times more than I do, on any given topic.

The difference is, I'm here, I care, and I am ready to share. Until the day that those mythological "Other Folks Who Know More" show up and start taking up the slack, I'm here to fill the gap.


I first became a member of the hardcore player Gay Leathermen's Tribe in 1977.  For two years before that, I had been WEARING leather, but suddenly, I started LIVING leather, and it was what I wanted, very much. Most guys don't make that transition until they mid Mid-Life Crisis, at around age forty... I was precocious.


I have never been anybody's submissive.  It's just not how I am wired.  I was always treated as a Daddy in Training, all along.  I was a tall Top with a big dick, and I really liked playing with older men. As you can imagine, I was popular in the 1970's. I had older, wealthy boyfriends who sponsored me on tour.  I went to a LOT of huge, high-level Play Parties in Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Diego and New York, and have played with thousands of men (and a few women).


After EVERY play-session, I would ask that individual "How could I have made that better for you?", and I would get a response. I took careful mental notes.  My goal was to become expert and wise.  I knew all too well how ignorant my Catholic upbringing had made me, and I was eager to CATCH UP.


Then, everybody started dying around me.  I've talked about this elsewhere.  In any case, here I am, decades later, and I have found an overwhelming STARVATION for mentors.  Not just in the gay leathermen's community - I'm starting to open up the doors to my bisexual, trans and heterosexual brothers, and I'm boggled by how eager these men have shown up to be.


Being just one man, and limited for time, I am now gathering the information that can at least serve as prerequisite study-material.

These articles cover almost NO "technique tips", such as "Proper Disinfection of Tools" or "The Best Way To Throw A Whip Overhand".  THOSE things you can find anywhere on the Internet.  I have zero interest in repeating anyone else's work.


Technique is only about fifteen percent of it, folks. Don't be fooled.


The secrets of being POPULAR are all here. THIS is the stuff that will help aspiring Sirs/Doms etc. to understand the context of being a kinky, dominant male of the Tribe - The kind of man that everybody is glad to see, when he walks through the door.

Basically, it's all following the theme of "How to Be a Sir, Without Being An Asshole" :->

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Florentine Flogging, for Visual Learners, Plus Flame Whips and Poi!

This article is part of my Mentoring for Tops/Sirs/Doms/Masters curriculum.




I struggled to learn Florentine flogging for months.  This involves using two floggers at the same time. I finally found the ideal way for me to "get it", within five minutes, so I'm passing it along.  It may not work for you, but then, it just might.  If not, then see the end of this article for step-by-step instruction links.



Travis teaches the Three-Beat Weave (Florentine Flogging)

I have found that I learn best by creating an endless loop of the necessary moves (such as with the animated GIFs below), displaying it BIG on my computer screen, and then doing it along with the instructor.  You don't even have to have anything in your hands.

As a result, I picked up Florentine 3-beat weaves INSTANTLY, rather than struggling for a month and a half.  I’m a visual learner.


The following are the video-clips that I learned from, with the help of my dear brother Travis. This is a video from his earliest attempt to teach.  He has gotten MUCH more smooth in his teaching-style since then.

Front View - Click on image to zoom in.

Side View

I laughed when I was video-capturing, and Travis was puzzled.  I thanked him for fanning me so nicely on a hot day!




Here is a video with my friend 
demonstrating Florentine flogging in HIS style (YouTube link is here, if you need it).
It's rather advanced, but he's still awesome to observe.
I throw in some flogging tips of my own, at the end.



Shopping Tips

I have owned dozens of Mr. Thuddy floggers, identical to this one.
Why?  Because I present them to Tops who have earned my respect.
I create public, Tribal ceremonies to celebrate them reaching their next level.

Ideally, if you find that you can learn this style of flogging, it’s a good idea to have two matched floggers.  If you want to get GREAT floggers for a fraction of the usual cost, may I recommend getting two of the Mister Thuddy floggers at FlogMeBaby.com.  They are $45 each, versus $180 each, for the same weight and high quality, anywhere else.

Alternatively, if you are NOT a huge, strong man like me, these big, heavy floggers can wear your arms out very quickly.  In that case, scroll further down the same page and get any of the $19.95 "Dungeon Master" floggers (differing only in colors).

Expensive flogger

I own many, many floggers, including a $350 flogger(!) that is of the same weight and balance as the Mr. Thuddy (it was made for me, with an intricate handle, for formal occasions).  I see zero difference in actual USE between the $45 flogger and the $350 flogger.  Save your money!



Miscellaneous Notes about Florentine Flogging:

I make no pretense about knowing everything on this topic. All that I have is my own experience.

For years, I had myself 100% convinced that I'm utterly right-handed, with no useful ability to use my left hand. I would insist "I'm NOT ambidextrous!"  I was wrong.  I picked up Florentine flogging in a miraculously short time, using the technique listed above.  Sure, I was clumsy with my aim at first, but practice fixed that.

Now that I know Florentine flogging so well, I kinda prefer it to using just one.  It's amazing what you can do with it.



Fiber Optic "Flame Whips”

Three-Beat Weaves at the big event, in front of 300 astonished people.  
Full video is here - YouTube version is here. It starts getting VERY interesting at 2.5 minutes. 
Watch for David doing a 4x4 Fountain, right before the 4-minute mark.
We didn't practice onstage beforehand, which is why I was losing the war with the curtain!

No, there are no actual "flames" involved.  It is a bundle of fiber-optics, attached to a flashlight handle that has at least two dozen programmable modes.  My favorite (poorly represented below) is accessed using the following steps:  Press the button once.  Wait two seconds  Press it twice, fast.  Wait two seconds.  Press it twice, fast.  This causes it to flicker WILDLY in cascading colors, like flickering flames.

Where to get them… This is BETTER (and less expensive) than what we used onstage at the Leather Fetish Ball:





Technical Poi

Polynesian Poi Dancers at a Luau

Florentine-style moves have a long, LONG history OUTSIDE of the kinky scene.  There are many HUNDREDS of techniques that are part of the ancient art of "Technical Poi".  Here is a wonderful video that shows the potential for wowing the hell out of folks at the next big play party.

Some other two-flogger moves that can impress your friends at the next Kinky Play Party (preferably with a high roof, and some lit-up toys):

- Two-Beat Weave
- Three-Beat Weave (in case the instructions above don't work well for you).
- Four-Beat Weave
- Five-Beat Weave
- Seven-Beat Weave (great for young, flexible types!)
- 4x4 Fountain (alternate tutorial)

The Tommy Tomcat: Video Instructions

This article is part of my Mentoring for Tops/Sirs/Doms/Masters curriculum.




The last instructional video that I posted (Flogging For Beginners - On Both Ends Of The Flogger: Video Instruction) has become really, really popular, with tens of thousands of viewings worldwide.  So, I am continuing to post more educational materials:



Disclaimer from Papa Tony: 
I DON'T MAKE A SINGLE PENNY FROM ANY OF THIS, 
OR ANY OTHER WORK THAT I DO IN THE COMMUNITY.  
My motives are pure, idealistic and brotherly.



I have been a heavy player for a long, long time. I have my biases, like anybody else. Since FetishMenSanDiego has come into being since June 2010, the local play-scene has included a LOT of "impact play", because that is what I teach (at least three or four days a week sometimes), and enjoy the most, personally.

I've written earlier articles about inexpensive toys.  We are currently enduring a terrible economy, and most of us generally aren't made out of money.  If it's a choice between an expensive toy and groceries, groceries always win. I like to help to avoid such choices.

I want my brothers and sisters in the kink community to enjoy the benefits of a nice, fat toy-bag, with the knowledge to USE the toys in their collection. 

So, I took some initiative, and got the ball rolling on something wonderful.



I have worked with Steve at FlogMeBaby.com to assemble a delightful toy which may be new to most folks. It's called a "Tomcat" - a cross between a blacksnake whip and a Cat-O-Nine-Tails:

- It's an intermediate-level toy… Not as extremely "sting-y" as a singletail whip, and not as "thuddy" as a mop flogger.  

- It leaves marks, but not unless you really work at it with intentionality. It does NOT break the skin. It would make a great prop for filming a pirate movie, since it doesn't really damage anything much. Looks impressive as hell, though.

- It's for the submissive who simply isn't getting enough stimulation from pure "thud".

I have seen Tomcats like this selling for as much as $430 online. I've owned one for about fifteen years, and it is a source of joy for all concerned. The one from FlogMeBaby.com sells for $49.95!  Quite a discount.

So, what does the missing $390.05 pay for?

The more-expensive Tomcat that I've owned since around 1998 has a tighter weave, a more delicate feel, and more-polished finishing.  However, neither old or new throws any better, impacts any differently, or satisfies even one percent differently.  I'm delighted with both the old and the new Tomcats, equally. I have signed-off on the new one's design and manufacture. I have tested the hell out of the prototype, and have loaned it out to my most esteemed heavy-player buddies. They hate to hand it back.

It's a winner!



I have one of these Tomcats in my possession, and have taken it through several steps:


Flexing

I have flexed it (and urged eager submissives to do it for me as well), so that it is silky-smooth in its delivery.  There are plenty of websites and authoritative Tops making firm, declarative statements telling you that intentionally flexing a toy to break it in is the worst kind of transgression.

I call bullshit.*

After 37+ years in the hardcore kink scene, I have YET to see a whip, flogger or other toy explode into fragments, crumble into powder or snap off of a handle due to being flexed, early in its life. I have played with literally thousands of people, and have visited several hundred dungeons since 1977.

My reason for flexing a toy as soon as I get it is to get it to THROW ACCURATELY.  Handmade leather toys like this one have a natural curve.  Some folks like to "adapt" to the toy's idiosyncrasies.  Fine. They are welcome to do so.

I prefer to pick up a toy and have it adapt to ME. I despise having a toy suddenly YANK into a new, unpredictable direction due to the leather being tighter in one direction. Clipping the edge of a submissive's ear (when you were aiming for between the shoulder-blades) is rude.
* The exception is with any single-tail whip that has a bag full of lead pellets or powder inside the part that you grab (they don't have a stiff handle).  You don't want to break that bag.
So, here is how I flex it (or get a submissive to flex it, to gain Boy Points):


If given a choice, I like to go to a non-leather gay bar - say, a twinkie video-bar, or a piano bar.  I will stand idly chatting with friendly people while flex-flex-flexing a whip, and they won't hear a single word that I'm saying - their brains will be 100% filled with thoughts like "What is he going to DO with that thing?"  It's the bratty sadist in me.

When the toy is flexible and floppy in all directions like a dead snake, it's just right.


Learning & Practicing

You don't need a diploma in Whipology to be popular with a toy like this.  You just have to know a few things:

Practice with a pillow.  Get familiar with your new tool. Set it up in the way that I demonstrate with the pillows and the chest of drawers in the video. Put on your headphones, listen to an audiobook or some rocking' music and take your logical mind out of the equation.  To master a tool, it has to become automatic in its use, and only practice can do this for you. Lots of practice. No such thing as too much practice.

Once you have figured out how to fire off your new Tomcat accurately, striking within a VERY small area that you aim for, time after time after time, then be sure to review some great online tips on proper use of floggers and whips. The Internet is full of them.

Here are a couple of videos that demonstrate how I like to use a Tomcat while the submissive is:

Laying flat. or

Standing up.

THEN, if you live near San Diego, ask me directly for any final tips on polishing of technique. I'm a coach by nature.



UPDATE, October 2015:



I have uploaded a video explaining my special, flexible grip in close-up detail.  This works equally well with singletail whips and a flogger.



Sunday, July 27, 2014: Papa Tony demonstrates the Tommy Tomcat, during Dore Alley Street Fair 2014, at Mister S Leather.  It is more intense than a flogger, but not as intense as a singletail whip.
get mine here.

The gentleman had specifically requested marks upon his back, and the results can be seen here. I was "painting" his back with the Tomcat.  Afterward, he was very grateful.