The Kid in the Candy Shop: A Note for BDSM Newbies

CandyStore by Eric M. Martin

Candy Store by Eric M. Martin

Copyrighted material Used with Permission of the author all rights reserved

by Chris Carroll aka Book

Alright kids… time to have a little talk you and I. Just sit still a second and listen to this because what I’m telling you isn’t out of lording or thinking I’m better or older or even wiser because absolutely none of that shit is true. I am no expert in anything except my own story and I am going to tell you a bit of my story because I think it might be able to help. So you’ve come out. You’ve realized that not only do you like some things that are questionable and kinky but you’ve come to realize through this website and through events and stuff that not only are there other people who like this stuff… some of those people are fucking HOT. Like, holy fucking hell! You say more tits and ass at one party then you had all through puberty and this really cute such and such actually talked to you, mostly naked, about how on occasion she closes her eyes and bites her lip and likes to pretend she’s getting raped. HOLY FUCK MAN.

Welcome to the Candy Store. The next few weeks of your life are going to be one of the toughest of your life. I wish you well. I hope you do better in these few weeks then I did because, well… I’ve never been much of one for willpower. It has taken me years to learn self control. It has taken me years to fight off an addiction to sex and submission and power and control. You’ve stepped through one hell of a rabbit hole and you’re just begining to realize that all te stuff that used to make you think a deviant and a freak and (in my case a possible sociopathic criminal) are actually not all that uncommon. There are others like you. They call themselves a community. They throw parties. You can learn from others, you can meet girls or boys who want to play with you… this girl was just talking to me in a bustier and nothing else about how she sometimes like rape. This girl must be soooooo fucking dtf. Like, wow man…

And that’s where I, and a whole lot of other people, screwed up right at the start. We torpedoed ourselves for the candy store. There was so much there, so much available. I was friendly and reasonably good looking and I could talk a good game so… yeah. This is gonna be great!

In the mid nineties a man that I will love to my dying day took me by the throat and dragged me the fuck out of the community. He saw what I was doing and he had had enough. I was playing with everyone I could convince to come to my house. I was booty calling like a fucking mad man. My friends, those that hung around, refer to that stage of my life as the Irish Slut Boy year and both they and I are fucking amazed I am still alive today from some of the shit I was doing. So my Master pulled me away and decided that I needed to learn a few fundamentals of a healthy lifestyle and community. He collared me for a short term of service in his house. He made me start from the bottom and work my way up. He taught me just about everything I know about kink and service and even a hell of a lot about common decency, manners, respect and love for your fellow kinksters.

Here is what it boils down to…

It is a candy store, but it is one of those high end candy stores where you can look but you really shouldn’t be slobbering over someone else’s chocolate.

Yes, sometime kink and sex cross paths. Lots of the time. But (and this is the golden rule for babydoms and I swear to god the only thing that makes me want to smack em) YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO TAKE INTO CONSIDERATION THE AFTER EFFECTS OF PLAY. Yes, its easy to scene with strangers. They get what tey want and you get what you want. But you HAVE to take into consideration this one thing… when you play with power, and submission, and trust to the levels that we by our very basic definitions do you HAVE to accept that there is going to be some attachment. You can’t beat someone into the dirt and then help them up without them wanting to fucking hug you afterwards. Most of the “Drama” that erupts in the scene boils down to this one fact. We don’t always take into consideration just how addictive/dependent we can become to play or to the people who make us play hard.

The absolute best thing you can do is find one partner who likes as much of the same stuff as you do and train with them. Play with them. Learn with them. You can be a couple, you can just be play friends, just spend your time exploring as much as you can with that one person and as you do that take stock of just how much emotional stuff develops between you. THIS IS NOT AN ABERRATION. THIS IS NOT A DOWNER OR A REASON TO DUMP SOMEONE’S ASS. This is the nature of the game.

If you don’t know someone’s head and someone’s heart there is no reason you should be anywhere near someone’s body. Ninety percent of the game, the turn on, the build up (the stuff that makes this INTENSE AND WORTHWHILE and not just random pick up fun) comes from the attachments casual sex players toss off. Don’t fall into the same trap I did.

Yes, there is lots of pretty. Pretty is fun to look at. Pretty is fun to flirt with. But trust me… its so much better when you let it grow to be more then that.

Find someone you like who has some stuff in common and work on making a dynamic between the two of you. Even if its even something like three simple rules that get enforced by one bare bottom smack.

See how fast it grows into something bigger, better and staggeringly intense.

Trust me.

I’ve fucked up royal. I’ve wrecked people and wrecked myself. Had my master not pulled me out when he had I probably would have contracted a bunch of STDs and wrecked a bunch of lives. I’ve blown off people seriously into me because they were seriously INTO me and I just thought they were kinky lays.

Welcome to the Candy Store.

Please don’t piss on the floor as badly as I did.

SIDE NOTE:

I once asked my Master, on my last day of service when I was allowed to dress properly and sit at the table and have a meal with him why he had done it. I asked why he had bothered. I mean, I was younger and in much better shape and at the time very much an anal slut and a bit of a bottom. I knew that on some level I had served him well and pleased him well physically and, after a few beginning mishaps, I kept his house running in good order. But all the other stuff, the history of the community and all the interpersonal relationship instructions. He didn’t have to teach me any of that stuff. But he had anyway. So I asked him. And he told me that he wanted me to realize two things and only two things as I left his service and his house. I COULD NOT make kink my life. It is not a goal or a career or an ambition and yet it plays with so many addictive elements that it could easily destroy you. Lets face it… its a fucking drug. We play with euphoria and ecstasy and endorphin rushes similar to the most extreme sports. Add a healthy amount of sex in with cool parties and yes… the life can wreck you. So he had to make sure I didn’t kill myself with it because, to quote, I like your pretty face. He also said that getting on in years he was growing to appreciate the Grandfather clause of being an elder… in that I would leave and some day I would take a submissive of my own and teach her. And she would move on and teach someone else. And so on, and so forth. I felt that for the first time today actually… weird coincidence. A girl that I very much adore has moved on. She is now strong and knows gads more about this stuff then I do and she now has a new play mate and they are learning from each other and I can tell just from looking at them, that they are going to be mighty and amazing. I brought her out, she brought him out. The grandfather clause. For the first time ever I seem to be okay with Sughra calling me Grandpa. Actually, no. But still…

He changed my life. I miss him very much.

I hope this helps some of you as you take those first steps. Step lightly. But step sure.

Love you all.

 

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