Hamster Spank 5

Posted by VERITAS
… Hamsters actually enjoy exercising on exercise wheels … provided they aren’t forced to do so …
… but it is as though my imagination’s auto-pilot forces my consciousness onto the treadmill, metaphorically, nearly every time I masturbate to a Bitch Dom fantasy, though often with the ameliorating climax of imagining the Bitch Dom’s Ice Bitch persona melting so that she as well, not just me, experiences passion approaching and reaching climax …

… Ultimately, for me, sexual interaction is all about freedom to choose …
… Yes, in the fantasy I choose my own enslavement, to the Bitch Dom (my Bitch Dom, product of my imagination … my imagination the ultimate Dom) … but my choice is always accompanied by feelings of anguish and distress, telling me that my choice is being made under duress – the duress of my actions being controlled by my attraction to the BD … which I suspect arises out of the conditions of extreme duress of my father’s sexual abuse …

… Ultimately, for me, it’s a all about freedom …

Hamster Spank 4

Posted by VERITAS
Walking in the park, I consider further two possible Bitch Dom / hamster spank-relevant scenarios and dimensions from my toddler-hood:
(1)
Spankings I may have received from my mother . . . their possible connections to my father’s sexual abuse:
[As I mull this possibility a crow’s call just now sounds to me like “Mamma! Mamma!”]
– that I may have received spankings for acting out behavior resulting from the stress, anger, etc. caused by the abuse, with the acting out behavior possibly involving:
–– throwing food or objects (cups, bowls, spoons, toys) at my mother
–– hitting my mother
–– obsessive masturbation
– for the way being spanked on my bottom by my mother may have connected physically with my father’s digital penetration of my anus and/or the abuse my father perpetrated on my genitals and anus;
(2)
Spankings I may have received from my father, possibly in part out of his needing to displace his guilt about his sexually abusing me onto me, and especially if he were punishing me for acting out behavior such as, possibly, obsessive masturbating …

Hamster Spank 3

Posted by VERITAS
The thought of how the site of my 60-year-old ass and body as a whole would look in profile as the Bitch Dom hamster spanks it prompts feelings of disgust … and yet the hamster spank image embodies and evokes a dynamic I am still, at the age of sixty, struggling with, at least in my jacking / self-pleasuring fantasies – of a shame-suffused sexual experience, and with the shame, I feel, deriving completely or almost entirely from my father’s sexual abuse of me as a child …

Hamster Spank 2

Posted by VERITAS
So that’s it — my imagination having the Bitch Dom part of me, of my imagination, treating the “me” (i.e., male, “real life”) part of me as though I were something on the order of a lowly hamster, trapped on an endless treadmill of slave-like obedience to the Bitch Dom by my uncontrollable attraction to her — to her full breasts that are always plentiful with milk with which to feed me, and to her overall surpassing beauty. And trapped as well by my irrepressible wish to please her — to do whatever she says if only I can avoid her disapproval and anger …

Is this how, as a toddler, I sometimes felt towards my mother?  And felt it even more desperately due to my father’s sexual abuse by leaving my mother as my one parent whose love wasn’t tainted, at least directly, by such abuse and whose love I therefore all the more desperately wanted to keep?  All the while as my father’s abuse in some way sexualized my feelings of attraction to her?  From which feelings towards my mother emerged, to a large degree, the Bitch Dom, who also perhaps incorporates elements of my father’s abuse — such as foundling my nipples and stroking and sucking my penis — into her behavior?

My thoughts on these matters may well remain, to some substantial degree, a matter of speculation, but this possibility, or perhaps probability, of their remaining largely speculative doesn’t, I believe, thereby render them unworthy of consideration or of the time I spend to think them and put them to screen, for the Bitch Dom fantasies have long occupied prime real estate at the core of my sexual identity and, as such, are a subject I feel compelled — in a good way (not a hamster spank way) — to examine and explore.

Hamster Spank Toddler-Hood

Posted by VERITAS
Jacking Update:
Jacked to the usual fantasies with the not uncommon ending twist of me disengaging from my sub behavior and the Bitch Dom from her dom behavior to enjoy, in the final blissful moments leading to climax then through the climax itself, a sub-free, dom-free, perfect equality of power and union.

… And jacked, as well, in the earlier stages of the jack, to a heretofore, to the best of my memory, unimagined link in the chain erotic-pleasure-suffused humiliations my imagination has the Bitch Dom put me through, enhancing the exquisite degradation of these humiliations to an unprecedented degree: the new link being an image of the Bitch Dom, having placed me on — ordered me onto — a treadmill so that I’m on the treadmill on all fours, then, with the tap of a button, starting the treadmill moving so that I have to “run” on all fours to stay in one position so as not to fall off the treadmill, and, as I do so, the Bitch Dom spanking me and spanking me, and, as she does so, laughing with the most pleasurable of sadistic ecstasy at the look of utter humiliation and bewilderment on my face as all this is happening; at the humiliation of the overall sight of this new link that she has contrived (that my imagination has imagined her contriving), and at the notion that she was able to contrive it and then, with my doing her bidding, to carry it through.

The jacking completed, the fantasy over, I now contemplate the possible connections between this new link in my Bitch Dom fantasy chain to my childhood environment during my toddler-hood — an environment in which, based on the sexual abuse I do remembered my father subjecting me to starting from only a year or two after this crawling, toddling phase of my life, I imagine I was experiencing my father’s sexual abuse at this earlier (crawling, toddling) phase as well, and an environment in which I was experiencing, also, my mother’s blindness, however willful it may to some degree have been, to what my father was doing to me.  An environment in which my mother may well have sometimes spanked me, and my father may have done so as well, and in which the reason for my mother’s spanking me may sometimes have been my having acted out the sexual abuse I was experiencing from my father by masturbating.  An environment in which I may have truly been on a treadmill — a continuous cycle — of sexual stimulation and humiliation by my father as he abused me followed by my acting out behavior followed by my mother’s punishment for acting out the abuse, and/or in which my mother, in her however willful blindness, may sometimes have responded with laughter, in an attempt to leaven my and her own mood, in response to the look of bewilderment and humiliation she could see on my face, which look may have often been triggered by any one or more of many mundane failures toddlers experience in their daily lives — failures in their abilities to do what they want to do, move as they would like to move, etc. — but which look, expression may have been enhanced manifold in its intensity by the far more profound feelings of bewilderment and humiliation, connected to my father’s sexual abuse, which such mundane triggers may have activated, thereby making it seem, to my toddler’s mind, although through subconscious mental processes, as though my mother were making light of the bewilderment and humiliation I was experiencing during my father’s abuse.

From such a childhood environment — of sexual abuse by my father together with my mother’s blind neglect and/or discounting of feelings of bewilderment and humiliation I experienced during the abuse and when they would be triggered afterward — from such a childhood seedbed, I sense, the Bitch Dom was born, by degrees, in my adolescent and adult imagination.

These, at least, are my speculations, which I feel have a good chance of being accurate to some significant degree.