JellyBean

THIS IS JELLYBEAN
RESCUED BY SIR JOHN

HE HAS NO CLUE
HE HAS ONLY 3 LEGS

HE'S PART OF OUR FAMILY

I LOVE JELLYBEAN

HE'S MUCH BIGGER NOW

Procrastination

I'll write more about that later ...

How I stay a Happy boy:

It usually starts with a little bondage:
or

"Acceptance"

From the Alcoholics Anonymous Big Book
Pp 449, 450,451. A. A. World Service, 1976, N. Y.

"And acceptance is the answer to all my problems. today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation---some fact of my life---unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment. Nothing, absolutely nothing happens in God's world by mistake..."

Lyrics that Move Me

Oftentimes Lyrics from Broadway Musicals become very special to me.
They often become anthems to me:

From Wicked:

I've heard it said
That people come into our lives
for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...
I have been changed for good.

From Rent:

There is no future
There is no past
I live this moment
As my last

There's only us
There's only this
Forget Regret
Or life is yours to miss
No other road
No other way
No Day but Today

I can't control
My destiny
I trust my soul
My only goal
is just to be

My Angel

Hungry for Knowledge
Thirsty for Truth.
I feast on Words.
Wise, with Humor,
He Preaches nothing,
Yet his Sermons
Ignite my Individuality.

I dream our History.
Meditate upon My Past.
And Cherish the Future
Inspired by His Soul

Got Milk?

Serenity Prayer

God

Grant me the Serenity

To Accept the things I cannot change

The Courage to change the things that I can

and

The Wisdom to know the difference

A thank you to my Sirs and all the Sirs out there

I think I’ve known this all along, but just this past weekend I came to the realization that us boys have it made! We complain, we whine, we moan, “there are not enough TOPs out there.” But do we ever think about the work that goes into being a TOP?
Tie me up
Tie me down
Restrain me
Suspend me
Spank me
Paddle me
Whip me
Flog me
Shock me
Electro me
Mummify me
Fist me
Fuck me
The laundry list of do-it-to-me’s is endless.
Us boys think we deserve the do-it-to-me’s because we serve our Masters, Daddys, or Sirs. We endure the pain. We let them use us, belittle us, objectify us, and Fuck us. Doesn’t my submission make me worthy of these rewards?
On Saturday night Master John took me out on the town to a Rubber event at the Gauntlet. I was dressed in the Rubber Singlet that was a birthday gift because I had recently discovered I loved the instant gratification of being bound in Rubber clothing. That night he paid 100% attention to me. With Rubber Hood and Rubber gag, he proudly paraded me around the bar. He stopped to talk to friends, and we politely watched the contest. From time to time we would find a corner and he would taunt and tease my cock that was encased in Rubber. Later that night we found a corner and I experienced a new sensation. I won’t go into details but it involves something that goes along with a Rubber Fetish. WOW!
The next day I tag along with Sir Mike to Mr. S where he works part time. He wrapped me in a Rubber Sleepsack then bound me from head to toe with Rope. He stood me up and displayed me for all the patrons to see. My Sir worked up a sweat tugging at the Rubber Sleepsack to get it on me. He had to pick me up off the ground to sit me in a chair so he could bind me with rope. He had to kneel, squat, and bend as he masterfully worked his rope magic. All the while he had to pay attention to customers and answer questions about what he was doing to me. My Sir’s a Master of Multi-tasking too! I also knew my Sir was not feeling 100%. Poison Oak had made him an itchy mess and caused him to have insomnia. All during a crazy busy day, he found time to tie me up and even teach a customer how to tie a boy up.
So boys, let’s not ever take our Sirs for granted. Let’s thank the BDSM gods for the talented TOPs out there. There is a great deal of responsibility placed on the shoulders of our Sirs. They not only have to pleasure us, they have to protect of from being injured. Our safety is literally in their hands.
Thank you Sir John and Sir Mike. Your boy hopes to never take you for granted.
And if I ever do. Punish me with NOBFAM: No Bondage for a Month!

Why Michelle Kwan?

Over 10 years ago, I started dating a man (you will probably hear more about the g-monster later on), who told me he figure skated when he was a kid.

It was figure skating season, and we watched the nationals on television. I remember when I was a real boy, I would see quick snipets of figure skating on Wild World of Sports. I would slide sock footed on the linoleum in the kitchen and pretend like I was gliding on a pond like Brian Boitano. I remember watching the Battle of the Brians and the Battle of the Carmens (high as a Kite at a party). I guess I have that gene for figure skater fanaticism.

Anyway, there was Michelle, 13 year old jumping bean. She finished 4th that year. Something about her caught my attention.

I've watched the Nationals and Worlds on television ever since. I've watched Michelle win gold at Nationals 9 times and gold at Worlds 4 times. Each time different. Sometimes Mesmerizing, sometime Michanical. But every skate is memorable.

Then there's the Magical:
East of Eden
Lyra Angelica
Carmen
Romanza
Spartacus
Aranjuez
Salome
Rach 1998
Rush : only skated twice and I saw it live!
The Feeling Begins
Dream of Desdemona
Ariane

In 2003, I saw Michelle skate in person for the second time. I attended the 2003 Nationals at the Staples Center in Los Angeles. That's when Michelle became Awesome! I saw her as an athlete. To watch her practice was amazing. Her work ethic is like no other. She would not waste a moment of practice time. I don't recall her missing a jump once during practice. At one short program practice, after she completed her run through, without missing a beat, she hit center ice again. She struck the opening pose of her long program. While 4 other skaters zoomed around, and one skater was doing her short program to music, Michelle ran through her long program from start to finish. Never getting in the way of other skaters. In fact, a few skaters stopped to watch. This was the skate she should have done in Salt Lake City. It was flawless. The girl got a standing O!

This year, I attended National's in Portland Oregon. Again I saw a flawless practice of her short program and perfection. Her short program performance was a dream come true. I finally got to see her skate with passion and abandon. She hit her final pose and just held it. She savored the moment. I don't know how she does it, but she connects with her fans like no other.
Later that night, I got the autograph. I was face to face with my Michelle. Of course my camera battery was dead (taking countless picutres of skater's backs). She honestly just seems like a sweet young lady.

The Olympics:
Yes she should have won the Gold in Nagano.
Yes Salt Lake City was heartbreaking. (Girl what were you thinking? New Choreograhper, NO COACH!)
The Fields of Gold exhibition showed a women not afraid to expose her feelilngs to the world.
Will she win Gold in Torino 2006. It's up to her, but honestly it doesn't matter to me.

I could go on and on about My Michelle. I've got video tapes for days of competions and exhibitions. I've spent hours on the Michelle Kwan Forum. My obsession has changed over the years. I would be crushed if Michelle didn't win a competition. Now I just glad she is still skating.

Michelle, my dear, I hope this is your year.
Win the gold, win the silver, win the bronze, or don't medal at all (like your sucky WORLDs this year)
All I know is you do it because you love it. And I watch it because I love it.

I'll be at Nationals this year too! Back with my Denny's pals from 2003.
Look out St. Louis.

We Are Family

What are you?

I’ve been approached by men in gay bars my entire homo life and asked the question:
What are you?

You would think I would be flattered by the attention.  Many times the question would come after being bought a drink. Sometimes it would come even before finding out my name.  Like, if I didn’t have the right answer my name wasn’t important.  I guess even to some, if I had the right answer my name wasn’t important.  The worse time I’ve been asked was during that snuggling phase with a trick or a date.

During my drinking days there was a direct correlation between how many beers, rum and cokes, 151 and cokes, black Russians, white Russians, Screw Drivers, Madras (Vodka, Cran, Orange), or whatever “we” were drinking and the degree of wickedness to my comeback.

“What do you want me to be, Sir?” I would retort if I wanted to be cute and of course if “he” was cute.

“I’m a tree or I’m a rock,” would be my obnoxious response.

Of course I’m probably oversensitive.
I only had a few encounters of racism growing up.

But come on: WHAT ARE YOU?
How about:
What’s your nationality?
What’s your background?
What’s your ethnicity?
I find your looks very exotic, where were you born? (I know, I’ve gotten a little carried away)

My fellow homosexuals find type oh-so-important: Latino, Asian, Black
My Latino friends are sometimes asked to narrow it down: Mexican, Spanish, Costa Rican, Puerto Rican, or the coveted Cuban!  Can we say UNCUT?!  Oh I digressed.

O.K. if you must know: I’m Filipino American.  
My father was born in the Philippines and my mother’s father was born in the Philippines.
Does that make me ¾ Filipino? I’m still trying to figure that one out.

And by the way, don’t call me CUTE.
That’s the next blog!

From Man to boy

     On November 1, 2004, I discovered the website, Slave4Master.com.  I joined immediately and chose the screen name:  boyroger.  “Obedient boy, to please Sir” I write in my profile.  Could a 42 year old man get away with playing boy?  After 10 years in a vanilla relationship, was I really ready to re-enter the world of leather?  I had recently gone to IML as a collared boy.  My experience was tame, more collared companion than collared boy.
     A few weeks later I get a message from Lthrbound, Master Mike.  Who is Lthrbound?  I check out his profile, gallery pics, and his website.  Wow!  This man is the real deal.  He’s partnered with LAlthrbondage.  Two tops for the price of one the boy thinks.  We exchange a few more e-mails, and by now it’s December.  I talk to Master Mike on the phone.  He sounds sexy, and I agree to meet him at the Gauntlet.  We talk, we kiss.  He plays with my nipples.  We kiss some more.  Are you ready to leave, he asks.  Sure, I say.  I’m taken to the dungeon in Eagle Rock.  I meet Sir John.  We play.  It’s all caught on film.  Check out the pictures on the website.  Roger catches his first glimpse of boyroger.
     January rolls around.  Roger’s in retail, and December’s a blur.  The Christmas season that never happened became the January Winter sale that would never end!  Somewhere in the midst of my retail Hell, I find time to see Master Mike and Master John three more times.  Each time is a new experience.  Each time pictures are taken.  I eagerly wait for Sir Mike to e-mail me the latest.  More pictures are posted on the website. They are accompanied by words like these:  “We have always enjoyed every minute with this very special local boy.”  
     But it wasn’t just the pictures and the kind words that intrigue me.  Their mastery of BDSM and the care they take in inflicting the most wonderful pain blew me away.  Wait.  Did I use the words wonderful and pain in the same sentence?  It may sound cliché, but it hurt so good.  After a scene I would be so exhilarated.  Sir John and Sir Mike would share in my joy.  They were proud that I could give into the scene.  Oh, did I mention some of these bondage dates included dinner.  You get dinner and a movie.  I get Elctro and dinner.  
     Roger goes to Portland and watches Michelle Kwan win her 9th National Figure Skating championship.  That’s right; Roger’s a figure skating fan.  The entire trip, Roger’s tripping over the past few months with the Sirs.  Who are these men and how can bondage and S/M be administered with such care it almost seems as if the pain is delivered gently.  Does any of this make sense?
     February comes and on another rainy night I enjoy a squirm session in the cell with Sir John. I’m bound head to toe with a rope harness and Saran Wrapped to a suspended bondage board by Sir Mike.  The orgasm is intense, and I tell Sir Mike that I’ve never felt so alive in my life.  That night I sleep over at Sir Mike’s. I experience my first night of boy snuggling.  He looks into my eyes and says, I’m honored that you trust me.  Roger takes a few steps closer to boyroger.
       Sir Mike goes to Hong Kong, Roger gets the flu.  The delirium of fever, gives me plenty of time to feverishly think about the delirious events of these past few months.   Broken-hearted Roger, lonely Roger, loser Roger exits, boy roger peaks his head out the door.    
     One Friday night, Roger sits at his computer and scrolls through the gallery of pictures on Sirs’ website.  I can hear the memories:  every moan, groan, grimace, growl, grunt, and scream.  Each picture captures a snapshot of roger the boy.  Every snapshot brings the picture of boyroger closer into focus.  I take a risk.  I e-mail Master Mike and ask him if he’s going out tonight.  He calls back almost immediately.  “I’ve got a boy in from out of town,” he says.  “Meet us at the Gauntlet.”  Another boy I think.  I could have panicked.  But at that moment, I realized while there may be other boys (and there were other boys, you can check out the pictures), could I be their boy?  There’s a picture from that night that Master Mike has deemed priceless.  The other boy and the boy are bound and sitting on a bench.  He has an ecstatic look on his face. I have a smirk on my face.  Cocky bottom you may think.  Damn right, cause I’m Master Mike’s boy. Alpha boy is born.
     A second night of boy snuggling occurs.  And in an almost awkward moment of intense intimacy, Master Mike mentions that he and Sir John may have room in their hearts for a part-time boy.  At that moment, Roger came face to face with boy roger, and boyroger emerged.  
     You can read Master John’s description of the epiphany, the phone call when my Masters simultaneously knew it was time to start a family. On Thursday, March 3rd, I spend a glorious day with Master John experiencing his other passion: flying.  That night at Eagle Rock, I’m asked to kneel.  I’m blindfolded as my Master’s scurry around the room.  I feel a cold chain wrap around my neck.  I hear a lock snap shut.  The equation is complete:  (boy + Roger) * (Master Mike + Mater John) = boyroger.  That night I got dinner and a collar!