Pup Maxx

a good boy. now in houston, tx.

thoughts

  • Moving to Texas

    Should I move to Texas to be closer to my Master?

  • National Puppy Day, and more

    What is your favorite holiday? Why is it your favorite?

    As a pup, how could I not love the national pup days? National Dog Day? National Pup Day? Hehehe!

    It’s really just an excuse for me to be extra silly, to insist upon more scritches, and to be cute and adorable! In other words: It’s an excuse for me to be me. And to try to make my owner happy.

  • pup owner

    The greatest joy and reward of being a pup — especially being @LifestyleOwner’s pup — is the deep sense of belonging and ownership. I finally began to feel it a few days ago, when I woke up one morning and realized that, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel lonely. Even though I had woken up alone, as I often am, I no longer felt lonely.

    Even though rationally I knew that I was in Chicago and he in Houston, it felt like he was only in the other room, and all I needed to do was to get up and wander over and I’d see him there.

    My owner is not only my owner and my Dominant, but he is my best friend and the center of my universe. In pup space, he is the partner of cuddles, the giver of treats, and the source of scritches. He is all things good and happy; he is my owner, and I am his pup, and I am so much better because of it.

  • Ownership

    own (2 of 3), verb
    owned; owning; owns
    transitive verb

    1)
    a) to have or hold as property : POSSESS
    b) to have power or mastery over
    2)
    to acknowledge to be true, valid, or as claimed : ADMIT

    I think I’ve always been lonely. Or, rather, I can’t think of a memory in which I didn’t feel alone in some way.

    The idea that there will be someone — that there will always be someone — who wants to spend time with me, to hang out with me, to celebrate with me and to just be with me is… incredibly foreign.

    So I’m pretty sure that’s why the concept of ownership appeals to me so much. Here is someone, an Owner, who has consciously and deliberately chosen to own me; to take control, yes, but also to take responsibility, to share in the successes and to ground the failures.

    In a nutshell, by Him being in my life, I am no longer as alone.

    I imagine that I could emphasize with other pups, assuming we could converse. I love that moment when a dog realizes that they’ve been adopted — that they’re joining a loving family which will feed them well, keep them warm, give them pets and hugs, throw a ball for them to fetch and hook on a leash for them to walk.

    I envy that moment. I yearn for that moment.

    A power exchange dynamic like Master/slave, Handler/pet, or Owner/object, might seem incredibly one-sided from an outside perspective — or several perspectives, really. After all, the Dominant has so much power. And a more extreme dynamic might mean that the sub’s entire identity is subsumed into that of the Dominant: there is no independent personhood, just being the Dom’s “thing”Insert appropriate submissive role/position/identity here.

    But the truth is, my Owner would be mine as much as I would be His.

    He’s the one whose orders I obey above all else. He’s the one I know I can trust more than anybody else. He’s the one who feeds me well, keeps me warm, gives me pets and hugs, throws a ball for me to fetch and hooks on a leash for me to walk.

    For he is the Owner. My Owner.

  • Pain and pleasure

    I’ve never really understood the connection between pleasure and pain.​

    It’s weird, isn’t it?​ How something that is supposed to be unpleasurable, dislikable — a sensation that is very much our body saying “bad, wrong, don’t do this” — somehow brings an incredible kind of pleasure.

    It hurts, it’s awful, and yet it feels so good.

    Is this why some people like spicy foods? Or other people enjoy throwing themselves off the side of cliffs and airplanes?

    Underneath the kinks, am I just another adrenaline-seeker — just someone who gets their rush from whips and paddles, rather than parachutes and bungee-cords?

    I never thought that I would end up being where I am, and being who I am. But I’ve found out that these are deep truths about myself — that being a pain play sub is as important to my being as being a connoisseur of fried chicken.

    I crave both in much the same way, and I get grumpy after not having some in much the same way.

    And I think I need some of both, right now. This is how I know that I’m in a submissive mindset — that’s something I should explore in another post.