When you're Feeling like a really small and insignificant person in a BIG world.


Real life stories from my training engagements.

#1 From anal rape to anal pleasure in under 24 hours.

I just had someone here for three days (Dec 9th 2018/December 12th 2018). A very bubbly 20's female who arrived scared after a journey from mid-Wales and completely out of her depth in terms of not knowing what she would be doing here - and all the anxiety associated with but felt she had to come regardless

I won't go into her history because that is a matter of confidence. It was, however, to do with a harmful and extremely controlling and abusive relationship (mentally and physically). Enough said on that, save for the fact she had been subject to vaginal and anal rape. You'll get the picture, I'm sure. My role was to reframe her thinking. She arrived on Friday evening and we spent the evening just chilling out and talking. By Saturday lunch time I was slapping her, chaining her up, having anal sex with her, and pretty much taking her back over her past, but in a reframed way. Up until then, she had associated anal sex with pain, discomfort, abuse, and rape. Within an hour her feedback was that her whole body was absolute jellly, she had never been so wet in her life, and the rougher I was with her the wetter she became. In fact by the time we had finished our hour together in that session she was pretty much out of it for the remainder of the day, the colour came back to her face, her eyes were absolutely glistening compared to what they were before, she was confident, and couldn't stop remarking how proud of herself she was. She left this morning and has already booked to come back again on Thursday because she loved her time her so much, she learned so much about herself, and couldn't thank me enough for turning her life around. Why am I telling you this? Because her thinking was turned around, her endorphin levels on an all time high, and now she is talking about diets, going to the gym and doing things with her life which before arriving here she couldn't imagine herself doing.

You see, when I engage with a sub it's on a therapeutic basis. My role is the guide, the facilitator, the enabler. That's it. I look at her thinking "It's your journey. How do I empower you to move on from where you are? How do I enable you to reframe your negative thoughts into positive, action forming ones? How do I walk by your side as your equal in a way which you feel whole and complete? How do I facilitate this process so that you feel more settled, centred and confident? How do I make it possible for you to see a new horizon and reach it?"

#2.  

A 23 year old female who arrived full of doubt about herself, yet fully prepared to go through a range of different experiences in order to gauge what kinds of BDSM play she would enjoy, or not, and then further experiment with those she enjoyed the most to build her trust and self-confidence. There were concerns around her partner not feeling confident himself in meeting some of her sexual needs and she wanted to be able to lead the way and teach him so that she would feel more fulfilled.

Having gone through all the usual safety and pre-session procedure with her I was satisfied that she would be able to engage with BDSM play and any risk involved was assessed as being none foreseeable, and we began her session.

It was agreed as part of learning trust that she would be restrained by virtue of hand, arm and ankle movement, and that she would experience part sensory deprivation in respect of hearing and vision while standing naked and exposed to counter her fear of being undressed in front of someone, due to what she felt were body confidence issues, and this was what she described as the cause of tension "between her and her partner." In addition to this there were a number of other issues around sex which put up barriers in their their relationship. But for the purpose of this example they are side issues which detract from the main point and no further details are necessary.

With hands restrained behind her back and spreader bars securing her legs from moving I proceeded with sensory deprivation by placing a hood over her head and face so that she had no visual capacity to see the processes which were to follow, and she would have to start learning to trust and feel safe in doing so.

With hood firmly in place I begin observations as to her overall body language, twitches in skin movement, heart rate and breathing patterns; as is normal procedure, and in particular keeping an ear open for her 'safe' word  if things started to become too uncomfortable. Everything appeared to be going well until out of the blue came uncontrollable shaking and sobbing, followed by a muted "Let me out, let me out please. I promise I'll be good!"

This to me was a call-out which far exceeded the 'safe' word, and within a matter of seconds the hood was off, followed by the restraints, and I had a total meltdown in front of me which needed urgent assistance and encouragement to get her breathing under control first and foremost, followed by a blanket wrapped around her for comfort, a cold flannel on her brow as she was sweating profusely, and plenty of cold water to sip slowly.

That was it. Session halted for debriefing. I needed to know what exactly she was experiencing and why this came from nowhere. At this point there can be no anger or blame during what was now therapeutic time to be approached in a very calm and rational way, with ears fully open and mouth firmly shut, allowing her to lead the conversation when 'she' was ready to do so. There may well have been a fight or flight option going on within her to get her stuff together and leave there and then. Being aware that this would be a very unhelpful choice in terms of taking her baggage with her rather than unpacking it while she was with me and then leaving it behind as she left, I decided it would be best to offer her a verbal gift by saying, "Wow, that was a very powerful but unexpected breakthrough you made there. That was an amazingly brave thing to do, well done! It felt like that energy had built up over a long period of time. Was that what it felt like to you?" 

When someone has reached this level of trauma, feelings and expressions of sorrow, guilt and apology are unremarkable and to be expected. After which the backstory begins to unfold, bit by bit.

It transpired that she had a deeply unrecognised subconscious memory of an occasion during her childhood when she was shut into a dark cupboard by a sibling for doing something which he considered as wrong at that time, and the memory of it took nineteen years to resurface at the very time I placed the hood over her head. Up to this time she had absolutely no conscious awareness of that one incident which lasted just 30 minutes out of the 23 years of her life.

In psychiatry there is a term referred to as 'transference' - which I became aware of during counselor training, and it's defined as - 'When people meet a new person who reminds them of someone else, they unconsciously infer that the new person has traits similar to the person previously known. For instance, one could mistrust somebody who resembles an ex-spouse in manners, voice, or external appearance, or be overly compliant to someone who resembles a childhood friend.'

Transference took place as soon as I placed the hood over her head, and within a few seconds I had become her brother. Clearly and rationally this wasn't the case at all. But her irrational momentary subconscious thought was woken from it's long sleep and panic set in as a direct symptom of a memory relived.

With everything unpacked, clarified, satisfied and my sub feeling whole, nourished and provided for in terms of safety again, it led to the question of whether she leaves now and more positive about herself, or do I encourage her back into where we were? This was more of a test for both of us as to whether I had instilled enough trust and confidence within her to prove it to herself that in wearing the hood again there was nothing at all to fear any longer.

It seemed that the best way forward from here was to offer the hood to put on herself, and in her own time. It took several attempts and a few more tears to brave it while I guided her through some breathing exercises, and with one final deep breath she managed to put it on and completely cover her head and face.

I will freely admit that at this point there was a part of me which was ready for another meltdown, and to be honest a feeling that I had failed her.if this was to be the outcome, and I sat there literally counting each and every second in my head in silence. At first her breathing was intermittently irregular and her body stiffened with shoulders elevated and her neck sunk deep into them as if her head was about to launch off into the air at any second in one almighty explosion. The space around us felt tense and everything was so quiet and still that I would have heard a pin dropping onto the carpet.

Then the moment came, when after a long breath out her hand lifted into the air to give me the okay sign, and I heard the murmur "I'm okay now, thank you." This is exactly what I wanted to hear, and I suggested she removed the hood for a celebratory cuppa before we continue the remainder of our session for that day.

Her smile was radiant for the two hours which followed and she absolutely breezed through a range of different experiences which left her walking on air as she left, and thanking me so many times for in reality what she herself had achieved. Even though I was in my mind at least nothing more than her enabler. Although I have to say that it's meets like this which embed themselves as by far the most challenging and rewarding.

I rarely hear from subs like her again because they have rightly moved on in their lives, and hopefully a better place within themselves. However. Some months later I was visiting South wales and I was approached by a random female in a supermarket of all places, while I was in there buying a sandwich for my lunch, and absolutely gobsmacked to discover that this very stunning and noticeable woman standing in front of me was the completely transformed sub who had a meltdown some months before. Much slimmer in appearance with facial jewellery, some visible tattoos, and completely gothed up! I would never in a million years have recognised her if she hadn't approached me. This was a whole new woman.

She told me that she had parted from her previous partner in order to "discover herself" and that without my help she would never be the woman she has become, and even found herself a Dom partner who absolutely encourages and loves her for her "kinks and twists" as she phrased it, and has "never been happier."

What a lovely ending to quite a turbulent journey.

#3. 

Another quite memorable session with a sub is memorable for entirely the opposite reason as #1. There can be many twists and turns when facilitating the journey of a novice as I guide her journey through what to her is uncharted waters, and it's a very rare occasion when I find myself in at the deep end. But again, this serves as an example to any 'would-be' Dom of what can happen within a session, and I will keep this example fairly brief as the key-factor here is the ultimate safety of both the Dom and the sub.

There are some subs who orgasm when put into safe and consensual, but risky situations such as 'edge play' for instance.

On this occasion I was engaging in a session with a 29 year old woman who, I shall say, enjoyed living every possible aspect of her life in highly risky and at times criminal pursuits. Trust me, I'm a great one for risk myself, but this female went far into territory I wouldn't touch with a ten foot barge pole for fear of being caught and banged up. Which according to her was just a mere occurrence in her life and she'd been there, read the book, and worn the t-shirt on more than one occasion. She had a thing for knives and other sharp implements and felt more powerful when she used them to make her voice know. Not that she had ever stabbed or murdered anyone (thankfully), but the use of such a weapon to gain power over people who threatened or were otherwise abusive towards her was "better than sex itself."

Now, I have to say in all fairness to her that putting aside her sharp-instrument fetish I couldn't have met a nicer, kinder, and more caring and generous of herself person who would absolutely do anything to help anyone who needed it. 

So, the backstory in her case was one of childhood and adolescent bullying by family members and her peers at school, to the point where she withdrew into herself and allowed the anger and resentment she felt to build up over the years to adulthood when she felt the inner strength empower her to stop taking the crap from people and fight back in such a way that people would feel intimidated by her. 

Now, please bear in mind here that I didn't find out any of this angst and sharp instrument objectification until after we had begun our session because her hurt was so deep rooted that it was neither brought up or clarified in any way because of the shame she felt in having to front it with me, open up and leave herself hopelessly vulnerable.

On meeting her I could see the vulnerability in her eyes. But other than this she presented herself as a submissive with no experience of how to be one. Just a real willingness to learn. There was no identifiable relationship in her life to relate to, and as far as I could tell little sexual interaction with anyone. So, for me this really was a case of finding a basis to start from, until she confided in me her interest in feeling threatened but unable to do anything about it and that it was her fantasy to be sexually overpowered with a knife and "taken."

Okay then. Well, considering this to be a role play scenario of which I have experience I was happy to facilitate her journey and take on the role asked of me. 

The scene was set between us where I was to adopt the role of a burglar who breaks into her home not knowing that she is there, and on discovering her presence I have to overpower her in order to subdue her while I make believe ransack her home, and on finding nothing of value I decide to take her instead by knifepoint, and before leaving the premises I make sure I leave a ground floor window slightly ajar so that I can regain entry. 

Now fast forward to where having seen nothing of value I find her asleep in bed. I go to the kitchen and seeing the biggest knife there I take it and make my way back to where she is sleeping, and with knife in right hand and a pillow in left I gingerly move on to the bed and proceed to stride her so that I may pin her down. At which point every possible horror from her past comes back in the form of a mental tsunami, and within a second or two she has the knife off me, is pinning me down to the bed, and with the tip of the knife pushed firmly against my throat every sentence which came screaming from her mouth had more expletives within its content than I ever knew existed in the English language, and with far more connotations as to what, how, and why than my brain could take in. However. The one thing I was absolutely sure of was her anger, and the added fact that she actually a drewa little blood from me while threatening to cut my throat, and choosing precisely this moment to tell me about her past and her predilection for utilising sharp objects in a threatening way towards other people.

Thankfully however, I am not the kind of person to be phased by very much at all when any kind of crisis presents itself, and my tendency in such a situation to look quizzically while shrugging my shoulders in a 'so what' kind of way completely altered the course of events from that moment forward and the situation calmed quite quickly. Albeit she was still cursing at me quite loudly as she then got up and left the room and continued to berate me from another part of the flat until she eventually quietened down. 

Meanwhile I'm quite bemused by it all while considering this to be the most exciting and interesting thing to happen to me in ages, and fully enjoying the adrenaline rush while it lasted. I'd already made my mind up that she wasn't in fact going to kill me because there was no logic in her doing so unless she wanted to end up in prison for the rest of her life. Which considering the strong ties she still had with her family and seemingly still trying to prove her worth to them, any notion of killing me would further estrange her from them.

In addition, there's absolutely no value whatsoever in becoming confrontational with someone who is being confrontational with me, as it only serves to exacerbate the situation to a point where it becomes completely out of control; and where it's likely to turn dangerous. If someone is holding a knife to you the more they talk, rant and rave the quicker they calm down as they get whatever is eating away at them out of their system. Using the knife was a last resort in this scenario for her, and I had to momentarily risk assess my options to provide the safest and most appropriate exit strategy for her to lock back into the reality of it only being a role play.

Did I consider calling the police? Absolutely not for one second! She came to me for assistance and I wasn't about to give up on that. In all honesty I was bemused as much as I was intrigued. There was an underlying issue which needed addressing in order for her to gain balance between the inner feelings of inadequacy when confronted with a threat, and her desire to actually do something about it. If this wasn't the case she would not have come to me in the first place. So, calling the police, in my view, wouldn't have addressed anything and she would have left feeling even more frustrated and angry for failing. She was at a point in her life where she needed to feel faith and trust in someone who wouldn't push her away, let her down, and actually face up to her with the confidence to reach out when she was at her most vulnerable and broken.

After leaving her on her own to think through her meltdown she eventually reappeared very remorseful and handed back the knife. The power exchange had now gone full circle to me again, and although her behaviour had been exceptionally extreme, in some ways I likened it to the brattish attitude which a lot of submissives fully enjoy and it's a mode of behaviour I am certainly no stranger to in terms of training, and when I am engaging with a brat who's getting off on throwing her little tantrums I adopt exactly the same stance and facial expression as I did while she was holding a knife to my throat. Indifference, followed by punishment.

My risk assessment at this point altered her journey forwards, and the ensuing bare ass spanking she received together with being severely told off for her brattish behaviour and being sent into the corner with her face away from me naked and silent, and absolutely still until I told her she could speak, broke her.

She stood there humiliated while quietly sobbing. The fact that she was told not to move any part of her body for forty-five minutes was clearly agonising for her. Eventually the quiet sobbing erupted into a massive flood of tears, and holding back no longer she dropped to the floor, physically shaking and crying so hard that it was affecting her breathing and her ability to repeat saying,"I'm sorry, daddy, I will be good, I'm sorry, daddy," over and over.

I left the room and returned with a duvet which I wrapped around her for comfort before getting her back on to her feet. Still physically shaking she was all over me like a rash.  Hugging, squeezing and kissing me while still repeating how sorry she was. I allowed her to cuddle into me and I could feel the tears as they fell from her face.

Then came the breakthrough moment, and patchwork memories of her childhood began piecing themselves together which slowly built a backstory of being the only girl of several brothers, and the youngest of them all. Of how she was constantly picked on and belittled while her father largely ignored her through his alcoholic stupor and the rivalry between her brothers left them fighting and arguing as to which one of them would be his surrogate and parent to them all while their mother lay bedridden in between extended periods in hospital. As much as she was her father's little princess when he was aware enough to acknowledge her, at other times he would believe whatever the brothers said about her and chastise her with a beating, and then send her to what he called the "naughty corner."

There were scars on her arm from self-mutilation, and this she told me was where her "obsession with knives" first started. As time went on the inward feelings turned outward towards others. As did the knives, into her adulthood.

The "I'm sorry, daddy" of earlier now turned into a litany of "Oh, my god's" interspersed with various expletives as the whole story of her earlier life built pictures in her mind which clarified her journey thus far. "There is so much I'd forgotten" she said, as she gazed ahead of her as if watching a movie playback on a screen at the far side of the room.

The long silence which followed said more about her former life than she was readily prepared to open up to in the present, and I accepted this to be her eureka moment. That deeply buried nugget which pulled all of her fractured thoughts together into one whole story where many years of behaviour now made perfect sense.

It was now that I felt our journey together had reached its natural end and there was nothing further which I could offer her in terms of ongoing support. With her baggage fully unpacked and addressed for now, at least, we mutually agreed that she should refer herself for counselling in order to properly and fully address the deeper issues of her past which she needed to work through under professional supervision, as well as her obsession with knives.

As always I ensure those I engage with leave on a high note, and she left not being able to thank me enough for empowering her through an incredibly challenging afternoon, and for me again yet another enjoyable, but epic, journey with someone.

It's been three years now, and I hope wherever she is, she is doing well and flourishing.

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End note.

So. There you have two very different stories relating to 'transference' and the dynamic impact this can have on people. 

You'll also find age discriminatory 'transference' between younger and older people. "I'm not going to see him/her because they're old enough to be my dad/mum." Or "he/she is old enough to be my son/daughter." It's now something of a huge indictment on society when a person becomes irrelevant because of their age, and such dismissal is a devaluation of the individual in a chronically demeaning and demoralising way. You are not a person you are an age, and because of that age you no longer have any value to me, is what it's really saying.

Is it acceptable that we now live in this kind of world, a world where we should all be treating one another as equals, instead of festering a growing age apartheid which actually divides us? Perhaps if the word 'transference' became as frequently used as the more common - and, if, but, too and is, it might just change us all for the better.

So. Now you've read the pitfall examples here's the  compelling video references.

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