Watchrrr

Introverted submissive rebuilding myself and reconnecting to my s**uality as part of my work to resolve past trauma. Tragically, I can't bill my family for the therapy.


I'm in the Boston, MA USA area, and current work as office staff at one of the best-known universities in the world, constantly surrounded by the best of the best in world-changing fields.

I'm not into humiliation. I don't get off on serious raunchy smell/taste for its own sake; uncleanliness doesn't "do it for me" without it being a challenge to endure for my Dom's pleasure and his praise, and that's a wee bit theoretical.

I'm into deep rumbling voices and all the accents foreign to me a lifelong New Englander. I'm into worship and praise and tease and challenge and reward. I'm into, say, an oft-washed sweater worn once or twice since the last, something you'd scoop from the back of a chair and offer to a cold guest, smelling like you and maybe your cologne or cigar or coffee. Boyfriend or kid brother nonsense, like a hug or a strong hand on the back, claiming, guiding, and unquestionably steady. Your c*m as your dominant mark, your favor bestowed down to a worshipper.

(You can maybe tell I wasn't hugged enough as a child.)

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{an unnecessary further manifesto;}

I believe we are as a species at our best when we are socially interconnected. I also believe there is natural hierarchy; some lead, sone follow, and both are equal and mutually-dependent, for all that being a leader and self-sufficient is drummed into us as the most important thing a man should strive to be.

Our world is made worse by those who are leaders whose grasp exceeds their true ability, who abuse those beneath them and break the trust necessary for us all to thrive, and turn our mutualist nature into transactional strangulation.

I am comfortable with being a follower: I have endless energy to offer when I am granted protection and safety, guidance and direction, and a greater cause to rally behind. Sub, boy, beta, bottom, gay: I don't see shame in my place, nor in submission to the worthy. I really struggle only because we're in a world where support and loyalty is too costly for most of us to offer, and where boundaries of s**uality and gender expectations hold apart men like me, and men like you.

To get even more florid metaphor about it: I am boundless fuel; are you the unstoppable engine? Are you the tip of the spear to my steady hilt? Visionary to my follower, mastermind to my henchman, executive to my secretary?

Maybe you'll find yours and I'll find mine, if probably not here if we're both being honest. In the meantime, I appreciate conversation and exchange with the dominant and charismatic. The sensory pleasure of what you offer helps me feel less hopelessly adrift and alone, and grounds my mind in reality and imagination in the present with the physical experience of your masculine power given however distantly. Your attention is a gift to a man who still feels like an unwanted boy; a gift I'm happy to repay in the ways I, the man, can.

{/end florid manifesto bullsh*t.}