Machine Dominance

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I know that this is something that fellow blogger slave Shae and I have discussed before and yet, never until now have I really discussed it on my blog. Yesterday I had no intentions to write and then – thanks to an experience of machine dominance – suddenly I felt like I had to.

When people think of “machine dominance”, perhaps they think of fucking machines or they imagine some sort of robotic cyborg sexual encounter. Whilst I don’t dismiss that that may get some people’s engines revving, it is something different for people like Shae and me. Our desire is almost industrial – the grandiousness of the machine itself, the power that it possesses and the respect that it commands. This is not a fantasy, this is an appreciation for something and the way that it exists.

Before I go any further, let me just say that I also share Shae’s appreciation of (though not a sexual desire for) horses. An equestrian for thirteen years, I understand the power and magnificence of horses. People like us know that a rider may ride a horse, but they have absolutely no control over it – if a horse wants to throw you over a fence or into a pond in front of a few hundred onlookers, it gladly will! Some horses are perhaps like Dominants in that regard, your humiliation is at their leisure. It’s a part of your experience for being allowed to ride them at all.

Machine dominance is not animalistic though, after all, machines (at least as far as we know!) don’t have personalities or feelings. This is purely physical – it is about what they are around you.

I suppose that I first became aware of machine dominance in my childhood. As I watched a police helicopter hover, I marvelled in how it was and the skill that the pilot had. It was almost fluid in its manoeuvres: up, down, forward, back, curving off this way then that. Wherever the bad guys went, the helicipter followed them with ease. There was something bizarrely attractive for me about the intensity of that pursuit.

Then I got to see my first chinook helicopter at about twelve years old and that changed me again. The way they are and the sheer size of them, the way they whip the air even sounds like power. They’re often used in action movies and yet I wasn’t aware of that just yet, this was a pure, unindoctrinated appreciation for me.

Trains were always a thing for me too, and high-speed trains in particular. Not bullet trains – the sleek smoothness does nothing for me. I’m talking about the slower, dirtier, diesel-guzzling trains operated by First Great Western that thrum rhythmically as they stand in the station, their enchanting purr just waiting for me to step inside. Once onboard, they pull away slowly but confidently and take me to heaven knows where. They feel dirty, sure, but they feel good.

Those trains.

At about fourteen years old and while fishing with my family one day, I witnessed an air sea rescue. Again it rekindled my fascination with helicopters, but there was more to it than that. This time, the Sea King helicopter was so close that I could even feel the downdraught from the rotor blades. I couldn’t hear myself talk or think and I had to stand with my back to it in order to be able to take in air easily. I was reverent in its presence, completely humbled by the power that it had over me in that moment. Even from a distance, it was still dominating over me.

So after that, I took a trip down to Fleet Air Arm Museum. I needed to get up close and personal to these machines.

Walking into a hangar full of helicopters was weirdly not unlike stepping into a Dominant’s playroom for the first time. Some machines towered over me and yet others were barely waist-high, some helicopters had military hardware to be marvelled and respected and others had executive leather seats and other luxuries. What captivated me most of all, though, was the smell of diesel in the air.

Surrounded by these powerful machines, the smell of deisel was weirdly arousing.

In terms of cars, I have long been a lover of a pick-up truck. I was used to Toyota trucks of the 90’s but then they got better, stronger, meaner – more dominant.

My first sight of a “meaner” pick-up truck was the day I set my sights on a Mitsubishi Warrior L200. It was love at first sight; I was completely captivated by its presence and the power of this thing. It was cool and confident, going about its business while I admired its existence. I needed to see them again and again.

The day we got Hugo was the day that I was in for an experience of my lifetime. First came the excitement of finally getting to ride in a Mitsubishi Warrior pick-up truck, then came the experience itself.

From its leather seats, the vibration of the motor and the way that the vehicle lurched forward when the brake was released, the truck surprised me again and again. This was no ordinary car, this was a mechanical beast. I’ve never had a cargasm before that day, but I nearly did!

So when I was working in the front garden with Matt yesterday and a pick-up truck drove past, of course I noticed its presence. It was the sound of the engine and the power that it promised – I know these machines now and I know that I like them.

It seems now that pick-up trucks of today’s era do this to me. Oh sure I drive around town in some pretty nice cars sometimes, but I think of them as being a bit like meeting a well-to-do date who turns out to be just “okay”. Sure they get me where I want to be in style and comfort, but they have nothing to them that really impresses me. The L200, though? He’s the downtown bad boy who gave me an experience to remember.