Anyone who’s had dealings with me knows I’m a deep thinker and business minded, always looking for ways to improve, and forever learning. I’m wired different to most people when it comes to acquiring knowledge, something I only got to realise in middle age. As a reluctant schoolboy, I was written off by teachers time and time again, but managed six passes at ‘O level’. And in case you’re wondering, even with bisexual tendencies from a young age, ‘those’ O levels didn’t come till I was around 19. Said tutors met with my parents & wanted me to go on to sixth form & A levels (after throwing shade for 4 years in middle school). I didn’t have much say in the matter and after two terms fooling around at the higher level they got the message; I was permitted to leave. I joined the Merchant Navy as a deck cadet, excelling at all things practical. Parts of the academic side were a struggle though. The shipping industry at the time was transitioning from a vocation based Second Mate’s ticket to the same qualification granted upon successful completion of an ONC in Nautical Science. Long story short I failed miserably at physics. Instead of re-sitting the exam, I headed north to the oilfields, finding work initially as a roustabout. I was well suited to the oil industry… brash, fastmoving, intense & a place where they didn’t suffer fools gladly. There were all kinds working there from animals to intellectuals but very few of the senior people (above assistant driller level) were British, because the industry was still new here; most of the drillers, pushers, superintendents & service crews were Yanks. I’d always favoured (and still do) Americans, why? Well, without giving too much away, I’m of ‘unknown origin’. Where I was born was heavily populated, and influenced by US Air Force personnel; you’ll get my drift. Ha!
I think when you get to middle age you look back at pivotal moments when decisions were made, which proved over time to be lifechanging. Between the ages of 8 and 11 I’d done well at school. I ‘fitted in’ with peers, we’d grown together, we all just kinda got on with one another irrespective of ‘intelligence’ or ‘prowess’ on the sports field [UGHHHHH]. Looking back, I think the reason for that lay in the management of the place; it was ‘well rounded’ with a heavy emphasis on science. We were one of the few schools at the time signed up to the advanced ‘Nuffield’ syllabus. What wrecked my future was moving away from Norfolk in the second year of main school. The new school revolved around the playing fields, especially football & PE, with a heavy military influence. Sixty percent of the boys were from RAF families, mostly aircrew, vicious ultra competitive egotistical bastards. The place was at least two years behind the former establishment with their science curriculum. That ‘sea change’ in my life was to have far reaching consequences, in educational achievement, confidence & learning. School 1 had been conducive to ‘growing’. It fostered ‘inquiring minds’. Social cohesion didn’t have to be taught or foisted upon us, it just happened…. a happy place where boys ‘developed’ without needing to be overly pushed. School 2 was a hell hole, for me anyway. My whole perception of life changed. It was all STICK & no carrot, made worse by a stressed father inclined to administer heavy corporal punishment. In other words: MISERABLE TIMES.
That last paragraph I know, will be familiar to a good many GenX’ers & Boomers. Those two demographics bear no resemblance to the generations that have followed, IE Millennial & GenZ. Such is the pace of CHANGE accelerated by technology. In the Sixties and Seventies the country was divided educationally, based on the dreaded 11+. Well England was anyway. If you passed the 11+ you were destined for ‘the professions’ via grammar or public school; if you failed it was Secondary Modern (comprehensives weren’t much more than an ‘ideology’ back then) and a life ‘in the other ranks’, jobs and careers sneered at by the nobs. I’d passed the 11+ (on pain of death I might add) so got placed in public school. You were never really allowed to ‘let go’ in these establishments. You had to conform. You had to be ‘in the team’. That stemmed from the sports field, fueled by the competitive spirit of the military kids and their obnoxious parents. For sure, there were boys who got into the RAF not primarily on what they knew (in terms of qualifications you only had to have 5 passes at O level to be considered for officer entry) but rather than ‘who they knew’. In other words, the Story of Britain aka the Establishment, which still rules today. Not just here either; in the UK we’ve got the history and what they like to call pomp and circumstance (cue for sick bag) whereas other places, like the US, it’s still there, but in different form. The Trump victory promises much, not least by way of the ‘trifector’ (Capitol-White House-Supreme Court) element. The World (is/was) at a critical juncture… here’s hoping the opportunity isn’t lost… to restore some sense of normality, good over evil, truth over lies. But I digress.
NINETEEN SEVENTIES grammar school wasn’t a place where you were encouraged to be a ‘free spirit’; and if your home situation followed a similar vein, IE strict parentage, then you were effectively BRANDED, in some cases for life. Those environments weren’t conducive to individualism. You had to get back in your box, or else. Some rebelled, as I did, fiercely. Its fascinating to me, that these days too, individualism is discouraged in education, but for different reasons. If I’m brutally honest, even though I pushed back as a teenager, the heavy influence of school and Victorian upbringing persisted until I was around 37. As a male escort (both solo and especially within the couple) I meet/have met numbers of men now running well into four figures. What I’ve found, is a good many of ’em still have hang ups from childhood. Some want to relive them believe it or not. They seek solace in activities like spanking, because it takes them back to ‘simpler times’. That is a subject in itself, & one I’ve written about elsewhere. Just this weekend I have a regular whose one such guy; prolonged spanking, in his case to release endorphins and PLEASURE. It gets complicated. He’s seeing me for the fifth time, and he’s looking forward to it. Immensely so, apparently… that’s what he told me. He said he felt he could trust me now, and surrender control, completely. That is something that kinksters’ seek to do. And its something, in my experience, that a lot of the ‘threesome’ MMF MFM brigade NEVER get to do. Many of them are bucket listers for sure, but some who identify initially as ‘Straight but a wee bit curious’ get on the train, progressing to be more bi, fully bi, some become subs, some cross dressers, some all those things. But very few, really let go. I notice it especially in ‘sex-machine’ scenarios. I’ve gotten to the stage where I’m wary of even offering those services to men without some BDSM experience at least. Reason being is because despite my assurances, they won’t relax & give me their all. They panic. Same goes with bondage but that again, is a different story. Mention electro and some of these men think they’re going to be electrocuted so stay well away. Hook them up to the SeriousKit penis milker and the minute the device pulls their dick in they freak out…. YES, even after I’ve briefed them fully on what to expect.
I was moved to write this piece from a recent session of SELF STIMULATION. It was wild. Extraordinary even, but that would imply it was more of a one off. Truth is, I’ve enjoyed scores of sessions like this. And I would hazard a bet a tiny few of you readers have too, solo, behind closed doors, in the safety of home. Other readers will be less fortunate, in that either they’ve never experienced thrills the likes of which I’m about to lay bare, OR, they’ve never got the opportunity because they’re never ALONE &/or uninhibited. As a pro male dominant in North East England, I’m focused on delivering the very best experience possible for each and every one of my precious clients. That’s not a cliche, it comes from the heart. I’ve told you before my primary reason for being ‘in the oldest profession’ is because I love sex and sexuality. Extensive briefings, baby steps over multiple sessions, friendly assurances, none of those things will cut it and deliver an exceptional session, unless you learn to Let Go. It’s about getting your head in the right place. Its about vanquishing all thoughts save those that are 100% focused on sexual pleasure, WHATEVER THEY MAY BE. The brains the biggest sex organ; you need to get it working in unison with physical stimuli, especially if you’re one of those guys resigned (correct word) to ‘difficulty in ejaculation’. That state of affairs can very easily be self fulfilling, & something I often see. The SeriousKit milker brings you to a state of excitement quite quickly if you allow it; it’s my job to douse that to a degree, so I can edge you, because if I let you cum, it would just be a run-of-the-mill orgasm and that’s not good enough. I don’t want that. And I don’t think you pay good money for ‘ordinary’ either? For EXTRAORDINARY, we have to build. Step by step. We need to bring you to the edge, then back it down a bit, before resumption to a higher level. Its the same with the electrostimulation. Done right, you’ll find you’re almost turned off by me interrupting just as you peak to a ‘local high’ so to speak. Ha! This is beginning to sound a lot like trading… but then there ARE similarities because that profession too depends a lot on emotion. The trick is to stay with it. Because every step leads the way to a higher place trust me. Some men won’t be told, and will not entertain the tiered approach. There’s some debate at the moment as to whether attention spans are declining due to technology. Commonly, after rapid initial stimulation, men will allow their attention to wander following which, everything goes downhill. They fail to cum because they’re ‘not quite there’, then ask to end the session. If only instead, they concentrated thoughts EXCLUSIVELY on sexual matters, the feelings would return, ebb perhaps, then come back stronger. It’s like the sea & its tides, ebbing and flowing; If you’re on the shoreline observing the movement of an incoming flow, it does just that. If we can lock ourselves into that cycle, there’s a strong chance we’ll experience the Holy Grail of orgasms. As the old saying goes, ‘time & tide waits for no man’; The direction of flow will become an ever strengthening unstoppable force & a new High will be set.
So last weekend I was busy trading. Endless screens charting the progress of the S&P, NASDAQ, VIX etc, all double Dutch I know to a lot of you and B>O>R>I>N>G, but not to me. To me it’s a dream… for years I thought I’d like to be a trader, with the belief that the disciplines required would match my mindset. It was only around five years ago that I managed to start through self education and being mentored by three long term experts; it was kind of a natural progression from web development work, a deep interest in politics, and a desire for self sufficiency. The web work stemmed, believe it or not, from my distrust of AdultWork. I knew the time would come when they would either go down, or they would become a total monopoly. The latter’s come to pass, with them habitually beating service providers with a stick, with no GENUINE interest in them other than a means of exploitation & making money. (They’re turning over one million pounds a day now apparently, yes you read that right A MILLION POUNDS A DAY, & unsurprising since it costs upwards of £300 a month to effectively promote a profile on their site). I made the first website in 2014 and it still brings us traffic today, along with five other sites. Life’s a journey. Anyway, back to last weekend, & my trading screens. Despite my best efforts to repress it, I could feel the horn coming on. You know how it is… you tell yourself ‘its nothing’, then ‘later’, then ‘oh fuck I’m horny’, then ‘a quick look at a fave porn clip’, then ‘get a grip get back to 
work’ until the inevitable…‘MUST DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT and PDQ‘. That’s often how it is for me. I used to love it when we had the Darlington premises. I’d be working away in the back office and similar ‘feelings’ would come over me and I’d go upstairs to the dungeon. Being soundproofed it was an oasis of calm, right on top of one of the busiest roundabouts in town, and just metres away from office workers in the adjoining property, there I’d be, for occasional solo sessions. Mostly they were pretty kinky, not least because by then we’d accumulated a fair range of quality ‘equipment’. Other times though, I’d be naked & use nothing other than a vibrator while wearing heels. Heels you ask? From a male pro dominant? Yes, because I’m a bit of a switch. Heels tighten the leg & bum muscles; its one reason why women wear them. For a man, it can move the brain in the right direction too… of sluttiness, promiscuity, and all those things we were kept ‘well away from’ as teenagers in ‘the right schools’ ha!
So following the aforementioned stages of ‘horn’, I felt compelled to act. I intended it initially to be a short sharp session; it had been building for days… we’re a bit quiet just now & hadn’t had much in the way of meetings to relieve the pressure. I say we’re in a recession and a deep one at that but time will tell. The #Stripperindex is a reliable indicator. In times like these the ‘experts’ will confirm negative growth only months AFTER the event when there’s light at the end of the tunnel. GROAN. I think we’re going to be in the dark for a very long time tbh.
I got naked but felt I really needed to ‘feel it’. So out came the Size 10 five inch black patent heels. I can walk in them anywhere, they get me going quite quickly, especially when in front of the floor to ceiling mirrors. My cock hardened, but I wanted to feel more feminine, so needed to repress it. Chastity devices are not really for me, but a tight pair of lace knickers works wonders. I like it when they’re close fitting enough to restrict my penis but it remains visible, straining against the material. By this time my nipples had started to react too… puckering up to solid nubs, very sensitive. At the same time, I felt that tell tale salivation in the mouth, and heat on my face and head. All good. Strutting down the stairs, peering out the patio door then walking around the living room, catching sight of myself in mirrors… you’ve probably been there yourself… stoking the sensation, mind somewhere else… as a wanton sex craved slut. If you’ve not been there, and have no inclination to be there, then turn the page. But if you truly want to get to the next level, you may want to reconsider how/why/where and when. I can’t (well I can kind of) believe why anybody wouldn’t want to explore ways and means of getting to the highest possible state of arousal and orgasm. You may not attach much importance to such matters, its different strokes for different folks I know that, but if that’s really the case, why are you reading this blogpost? On a male pro dominant’s website?
Nipple arousal is a reliable sign of sexuality in my experience. Ask a guy if his nipples are easily stimulated or if he gets pleasure from them and his reply is ‘Errr not really’ and you know it’s likely hard work. At least as far as kinky sex positivity is concerned anyway. I began to frig my cock off through the lace, hard and fast like a woman, with the flat of two fingers. All the time the sex toy cabinet with its half open door beckoned, as did the tray with the electro loops and cables. I couldn’t resist. What started as a short sharp wank was quickly growing into an EXTENDED AFFAIR. I wasn’t starting to tremble & shake, but I was pumped for sure. I assembled everything I thought I’d need within easy reach of the fucking bench. Mobile, electrodes, 2B power box, nipple clamps, poppers, glass dildos, anal plugs, the works. But not quite so fast. I felt I had to ‘complete the look’ and add more authenticity. Cross dressers will understand. I put on a bobbed dark brunette wig, and took time to set it right, and to fashion it to suit my face. Minx thinks I look brilliant in it, as do many clients. I’ve never gone whole hog CD, makeup and all, but I can still dress & morph into someone way more alluring. I donned a skimpy white lace top too, which showed off my nipples; I’d already got black seamed stockings on and had taken the time to line the seams up and fasten them properly to a deep black suspender. I felt stoked. Verbal stuff makes me even more horny; I talked fantasies out loud; it helps the brain to focus one hundred per cent. As a long term sex worker and someone who’s naturally ferociously sexual I suppose I’m quite skilled at doing whatever it takes to ‘get in the zone’ no holes barred. I switched the floor lights to red, then got comfy on the fucking bench. I lay on my back, head on cushion, legs behind the knee supported by stirrups hung from the hoop bridging the bench. In front of me was the full length mirror, at my side & within reach on the bondage bed I’d arranged the ‘implements’.
A good many clients come to see me for anal training. So I’ve got dildos and plugs ranging from almost insignificant, to MONSTERS. One’s so huge people think its simply not possible, and they’re almost right: only one sub in ten years has been able to take it. Funnily enough I saw him again only last week after a two year hiatus. If you’re not regularly playing with anal toys, you do lose elasticity to a degree…. some subs will miss a month then find they’ve got to take a few steps back in terms of size; For me right now, there aren’t enough hours in the day, so ‘sessions’ are less frequent. I know where I want to get to in terms of stimulation though, and I don’t need to go bigger all the time, though that would be nice, if time permitted. I’m somewhere between ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’ and ‘bigger, better, more extreme’. Truth is, I’m able to get myself into such a high level of arousal culminating in a full body orgasm, using nothing more than a 2B connected to a 37mm electro plug and a conductive loop for the cock. One day that won’t be enough I know, but for now (going on 18 months) it does the trick and then some.
Electropebble is a decent unit and in some ways as good as the 2B, however, the latter excels due to it being mains powered. I have yet to test other manufacturers; that’s something I must do at some stage, since having my trade account cancelled by E-stim Systems due to accidentally ‘misgendering’ one of their employees. I’d been speaking to him over the phone for years, a seemingly amiable and helpful chap. Then one day I got an email informing me he was now a she. (in his fifties) Fair enough, I have no problem with that! After all, their kind are frequently my clients, I have heaps of empathy, & as per this post, cross dress myself occasionally. Problem was, when you called them you never knew who would answer. So if it sounded like a man on the other end you had to remember PDQ ‘he/she could be ‘XYZ’, or was it somebody else? The company couldn’t put themselves in the shoes of others… they were wrapped up in, & pushing AN AGENDA. Sound familiar? Every time I looked for their phone number, I rang it with a picture in my mind of a bloke I’d spoken to for TEN YEARS, answering in a male voice. Without saying who he/she was when ‘they’ answered threw me. It blew up big time. ‘XYZ’ ended up almost crying over the phone, playing the ‘victim’, so they deleted my account. I’d suspected for some time they were a left leaning organisation… their stance on Covid aligned with the likes of Whitty/Valance/Hancock/WHO et al, I also noticed as have others recently, they just seem so smug… a cliquey company with their heads up their asses bending the knee to everything #woke. IMAO anyway. (by the way, are you following the tribunal hearing in Dundee Sandie Peggie v NHS Fife and Dr Beth Upton? Google it. Worthy of a blog post in itself #StayTuned)
I turned the 2B on and switched it immediately to HIGH power on the THROB setting, my fave. I really look forward to that feeling. It’s unique but kinda similar to what you feel just prior to cumming. Search for the meaning of the word coital & you get this: “The man must have the ability to recognize impending ejaculation and to resist the urge to pursue coital movement.” And that just about sums it up. Except when I’ve got my male pro dominant hat on. Those times it’s “I must have the ability to recognize impending ejaculation and prevent the urge for him to pursue coital movement.” Both electrostimulation and SeriousKit penis milking replicate to a degree the act of fucking/masturbation. The absence of a partner, as I was this day solo, can sometimes heighten the feeling; I AM IN CONTROL and no-one else, meaning I can edge closer and closer, like the tide, to a HIGH. And let me tell you, that high manifests itself these days in a body shattering climax, invariably hands free. So powerful it’s almost frightening in that I can actually hear my heart pumping loud, my whole body shaking quite forcibly. Needless to say the ejaculation is heavy… much more than normal…that is one benefit of prolonged edging. It’s violent, it’s pervasive, and its delicious.
NEWS VIEWS & SUBSCRIBERS who’ve followed me for years invariably say one thing. Even if they don’t agree with me, they admire my honesty. I’m telling you now, in thirteen years escorting/kink I’ve seldom seen orgasms anything like what I’ve just described from clients. Is that a failing on my part? I don’t think so. Follow any domme on social media & they’ll showcase images of sessions, videos sometimes, but rarely do you see ‘end games’ anything like what I’ve described. Watch enough clips and you’ll see! Sexwork unfortunately is like ANY. OTHER. BUSINESS. Most of the service providers are just AFTER YOUR MONEY. They rinse you several times, before you [both] realise ‘you’re not really a match made in heaven’ and its time to move on…NEXT! That is the reality not just in the sex industry but all realms of commerce, save for a select few. The ‘few’ that are focused on excellence day in day out. Granted, even they may not deliver upon your realistic (or unrealistic) expectations but you can be sure of one thing, it won’t be for the want of trying. Those kind are to a man (or woman) hard on themselves, cruelly so. They’re obsessive perfectionists intent on delivering the perfect performance. They always go out there and strive for a perfect session the best way they can, and hopefully the client responds to it, and then everything comes together and in my case as a male dom we get that big ‘O’ at the end. I count myself in that fold. I’m not here ‘blowing my own trumpet’, I truly want to deliver the kinds of experiences I know are possible for many people, if only they just buckled up, let go & enjoyed the ride. When all’s said & done its about trust, the bedrock of all things BDSM, but let’s not just pay lip service to it, lets embrace it #onwardandupward. Together.
In conclusion, I admit to still being on a journey myself. A journey of self discovery, sexually, spiritually, intellectually. That’s why I enjoy being a male pro dominant. I’m not interested in bucket listers. I’m into travelling with others, to far horizons. Some of what I’ve been talking about here is along the lines of/verging on dronification. A couple of years ago I would have assumed that term had something to do with a small electric motor and a couple of rotors. Now I know different. It’s an area of interest I’m moving towards. And on that note, I’ll sign off, for now… speak soon? I sincerely hope so. I am different. I am Northern Master, don’t be backward in coming forward, I would love to meet you, yes YOU.