The End

When I started writing this years ago, I didn't have a plan as to how it might turn out. Obviously, in the back of my over-excited mind I was secretly looking for publication on an international scale that would turn me into a millionaire sexual revolutionary and advocate of the alternative scene without my parents getting wind of what I get up to.

Like many fantasies, this hasn't happened - and just like you need to be careful what you wish for, this is probably for the best.

So, this will be the last post. 

It's been a hell of a ride. 

I am incredibly grateful for all of the people who have been part of this, and part of my life and especially to those who continue to be so. I know that I've made friends, gorgeous, wonderful friends, who I will have for the rest of my life.  

A lot of the reasons for stopping writing are positive ones. My life has changed and improved dramatically since I started to write this and many of the things I was searching for, not least, someone who is "just for me", are now part of my life. There are one or two negative reasons for this, unfortunately. I have a new, very busy and quite stress-inducing job which uses up rather a lot of my energy, meaning that by the end of the day I am not really interested in spending three hours tying someone up and hitting them in a series of interesting ways, I'd just like to go to bed.
 
Fortunately, the more positive reasons are the real drive behind making the decision to stop writing, at least in this form.

All good stories need to come to an end, and I'm a firm believer in a strong, clean finish than just petering out, which is precisely what the blog is in danger of doing. Updates have been sporadic and I have not had the time, or more tellingly, the inclination to write. I'm going out less, playing with other people less and (frankly) doing less involved or convoluted scenes. Which means less material, frankly. I am still thinking about writing a book, so will need to use the time for that, but that won't happen quickly.

A lot of this blog was about the search for the right person, perhaps not intentionally so, but it did end up that way. Underlying everything was that drive to understand myself and to get what I wanted. Posts are almost always about exploring, about finding things out, about the next thing and the new thing or about understanding what has just happened to me. 

The search is over. I'm home.
 

This isn't to say that domesticity is the end of BDSM, it just makes it different. Without the time limits of a hotel date, or the constraints of a club a certain kind of routine emerges in which all of the power and control that you strive for as a dominant is simply there. Ready and waiting. And wiggling its bottom in the kitchen to attract your attention whilst you make dinner.  

There is also a pleasure in finding this kind of private intimacy to the extent that even I am not inclined to write about it. Dearest reader, I do love you very much, but I seem to have created a tiny little world which only has room for two people, and I'm too selfish to share: I'm too busy enjoying it.
 
The ease of it all is one of the greatest joys of finding a submissive with whom you absoutely fit. A partner who you love and prioritise and who loves and prioritises you. And you want to spend your life at ease, why wouldn't you? So, my darlings, I will admit that instead of peeling back the latex on a particular sexual more then furiously typing, I have, in fact, been at home on the chaise longue, drinking red wine and watching a film with Ganymede.

And they lived happily every after.

The End.