I know, I know. “Oh boy, another guy with a blog trying to define puppy play.” I’m sick of it too, so I’ll try to keep this as short as possible.
For me, pup play is another level of submission. My ideal “scene” involves a collar, mitts, kneepads and curling up at a Dom’s feet. I don’t want to play fetch, or run an obstacle course, I’d much prefer to stick my face in a sneaker or quietly suffer the indignity of a muzzle (and enjoy the raging hard-on it induces). There are two parts for me get redirected here. On one hand, it’s an excuse to relax, temporarily let go of my responsibilities and focus on the moment. At the same time, it’s deeply entrenched in the inherent humiliation of losing my humanity.
I don’t want to detract from or devalue anyone’s definition of pup play, I just wanted to add my personal perspective after a conversation on Twitter this morning. Maybe I’m into something that’s very-similar-to-but-not-quite-pup-play?