I was talking about the article I posted on Wednesday and the follow up article written by the same person (it is pretty good too). He was at the party and thought it was a good article, but was disturbed that a private event was reported on. That got me to thinking. My response was that we were always under observation.
We all live under glass.
Every day, every where, we are all being watched. At work, at play we are surrounded. People are watching us and judging us. In the past, gossip would be the means that this information was spread. People talk. When we got together, stories would be told. Usually the tales told were the truth, sometimes creative interpretations, but sadly sometimes these yarns were maliciousness. The difference is that today we have Twitter, Facebook, and FetLife to gather around and spread our stories. Life is more public than ever.It will get out, even if we don’t want it to.
We all live under glass.
Watch what you do.
It will be seen.
People will talk. They always have.
Yes character counts, that is true. But people cannot see your character. They can only see what you do. People are not mind readers, they will not see your true intentions, cannot know what is in your heart. This goes for your friends, your slave, and your enemies. You friends will love what you do, your enemies will try to twist it. Your actions will speak louder than your words. Be consistent, don’t be erratic in your actions. You can and will out live the malicious attacks of those that try to twist your words.
Try always to act in a way that is true to yourself and you will do fine. Remember:
As I am a lazy little girl today and quite frankly, just returned home from a garish night of doctors appointments and unhappy needle sticks. I am going to bed, but not before I leave you with a few more pretty pictures to look at…
I am a fan of rope bondage. Truly it takes a singular talent, time and appreciation. It is also one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
I was reading a kinky message board and found a post called “Looking for a toy…” and, like when one drives past a car wreak, I just had to look. It consisted of a single line, where a women asked any submissive men to pm her. With no details at all posted about herself (her first post.)
God damn it, this is why we can’t have nice things. There are so many things wrong with this I don’t know where to start, and the sad thing is you know that this person got tons of messages based entirely on nothing! Are submissive men really this desperate? That they would immediately throw themselves at any WSH (woman shaped object.)? This just screams objectification to me, it turns the woman into a prop that you use as a set piece for your fantasies. And that’s not a fulfilling place for anyone.
Of course she’s not entirely without blame either, it this sort of behaviour (admittedly from a minority) and sense of self entitlement that allow this attitude to persist. It’s sad to see one pedestal for another.
Since you MUST purchase tickets for this event. We thought we would make it easy for you to do so.
ONLINE @ Brown Paper Tickets
https://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/93274
IN PERSON @
It’s My Pleasure – 3106 NE 64th Ave, 97213 (64th & Sandy)
SheBop – 909 N. Beech St, 97227 (N Beech and Mississippi)
If you go to It’s My Pleasure or SheBop, it’s cash only dollfaces. If you want to pay with a card, go online and pay.
OH… AND GUESS WHAT??? We are paying the service fee at Brown Paper Tickets. Because you have welcomed us and we appreciate you, we will handle the $1.99 for you. It’s just a flat $15. PERIOD!
I took this little test today, thought it was pretty telling. Shocker, I’m submissive. The specific breakdown of things was interesting to me, as it gave a perspective on which things trip my trigger.Tie me up, hold me down, make me yours. Yep, pretty much does it for me. http://quizfarm.com/quizzes/Sex/poeticthinker/do-you-have-an-inclination-for-bdsm.
You Scored as Submissive
(((Note: This quiz is not totally comprehensive because of the length such a quiz would be. I kept it sex-based because I felt that psychological profiles and motivations were too complicated and vary too greatly among people that practice BDSM.))) It feels good to serve. A lack of control in the bedroom can be fun and relaxing. Being with a dominant person wouldn’t be a bad idea.
So this past weekend I get a very random text from a photographer friend of mine.
“I have a couple looking for a Domme to session tonight. Can I pass along your information?”
Due to how selective I am- I usually have a long process of filtering out potential new playmates. Yet this photographer I’ve known for a while and is someone I respect tremendously and consider a friend. So I knew I wasn’t going to be thrown some random couple. I was assured that this couple was perfectly sane and actually personal friends that the photographer. So with that validation I decided to touch base with the couple.
When we chatted I learned that the hubby was indeed a seasoned submissive, his wife a newbie who wants to explore her submissive side as well and along side of her husband. We discussed their needs, limits and play style. hubby claimed to be a pain slut, which intrigues me. Yet I’ve learned that most who proclaim such are usually taken back by my methods of testing that theory.
While I had a full schedule for the evening, I was able to squeeze in a hour of debauchery in between festivities. So, let the fun begin.
As they walked into the dungeon I could smell the anticipation and nervousness. It fuels me. Although, being mindful of the wife’s newness I softened the approach by allowing them to settle in. We discussed their desired scene, went over safety precautions as well as my expectations for the evening. We had a rush lesson of BDSM 101 for the mrs and taught her the proper way to present herself. I then asked her to get dressed while I began with the husband.
As he kneeled before me presenting himself. I motioned with my fingers to look into my eyes. Pain slut resonated through my malicious mind. I warmingly cupped my right hand along his face and held it there. Looking deep into his eyes. I smiled and quickly layed upon his face my signature sting. The look of sheer terror and shock rang from his flushed face as his eyes tried to regain composure. wife GASPED. I giggled. “Pain Slut- are we?” I mocked. A moment of stutter then he says astonishingly, “I’ve never been slapped so hard Mistress.” I let it settle in a moment and grazed his cheek with my palm, simply to feel him jump at the thought of another. Just the thought…
As the night progressed, I introduced the wife to flogging and the various types of floggers. Their sensation and use. She met the St Andrews Cross, Spanking bench, paddles, feathers etc. her eagerness and thirst to experience was rather sweet. The sadist in me had to take a back seat for this exploratory session. I found the connection this couple shared was strong and enduring. They came to me to safely open their minds and push boundaries gently.
We shared a session of beautiful power exchange. Both husband and wife blissfully in subspace. Learning the basic protocol and exploring their deepest desires. Truly beautiful. At the conclusion of our time, I had them both kneel before me holding hands-heads bowed. I saw the wife with a satisfied smile as she looked toward the floor. Their breathing beginning to calm and deepen. With a squeeze of hands visible- they began to understand we were almost done. It warmed my heart. They both kissed my boots like synchronized swimmers. I command their eye contact and embrace them both assuring them that yes, this was indeed a special moment in their relationship. With a warm smile I release them and ask the husband one more time: “pain slut are we?” as I snickered. My how I love couples sessions.
I just finished reading Clarisse Thorn’s account of her developing relationship in South Africa with a Baha’i sex educator, who is for religious reasons abstinent. She doesn’t yet know what the parameters of that are, and Clarisse being Clarisse, she’ll probably write some interesting things about it as she finds out. (These Carnal Nation bloggers make my life easy. They have all this smart stuff to say, and I just bulk-paste it and comment on it.)
So far, she says, she’s told him: “I promise not to push you- though I confess I’m curious about the vow’s limits. ” Clarisse, as she communicates clearly in this piece and at her own blog, is a BDSMer, and a BDSM educator. For her (and for me), eliminating any one act from the palette of sexual intimacy is not really all that critical. She muses, for instance:
And maybe, just maybe, his vow allows him to practice BDSM … a girl can dream, right? But seriously, if we can do BDSM together, then I just might be his dream partner. I’d be happy to focus our sexual time on BDSM and foreplay, and to ignore “actual” sex indefinitely.
I bristle at the “foreplay/actual sex” construction. I think that’s part of the problem. But that’s a minor point.
BDSM, depending on the BDSMer you ask, may be sex, or not sex but sexual, or not sexual but sensual, or not sexual at all, depending on the participants and the particular scene. It makes perfect sense to me that this guy would be able to do a lot of varied and very heavy BDSM with heavily erotic components without feeling he’s in violation of his vows, but I don’t know enough about Baha’i religious thinking, or about him, to know if that’s how it actually works for him. And apparently neither does Clarisse. Yet.
At a minimum, Clarisse is thinking here about embarking on a relationship without PIV for the forseeable future. She notes the irony, but that should be entirely workable. I’ve been in a long relationship that involved BDSM but no PIV (though it was an open relationship). It wasn’t a problem. I can and do negotiate my sexuality around my partners’ needs and limits. We all do; it is only a view of sexual conduct that places PIV on a particular pedestal that makes this limitation any more problematic than many others. Speaking for myself, I certainly could not have a relationship without BDSM unless I had another outlet for it; while no PIV in my primary relationship would be a relatively less significant issue for me. I’m not the only person to say that; Patrick Califia said some time back when the earth was cooling (and before he transitioned) that he’d rather be stuck on a desert island with a leatherman than a vanilla dyke.
But I realized that the flexibility that I adopt for my partners’ needs may sometimes be at the expense of flexibility for my own needs. Clarisse said,
I think a man who wants to abstain has a far trickier journey ahead of him than a woman: America’s sexual assumptions may be formed around stereotypical male sexuality—which really sucks for women—but it’s a very narrow stereotype that limits men too. Men are expected to be insatiable, and preferring not to have sex casts a man’s entire masculinity into question. His abstinence can cause anxiety for the female partner, too: after all, given an assumption that men are nigh-indiscriminate sex machines, a woman might feel that there’s something terribly wrong with her if a man won’t bang her.
[Emphasis supplied.]
I’ll cop to this being hard to write.
I can’t say no to my spouse. In thirteen years together, I have not turned her down for sex; not once, not ever. If she wants me to top, I’ll top. If I’d rather bottom, I’ll ask. If she wants to be eaten, I go down on her, and if she wants to be fucked, we fuck. If I’d prefer to get fucked or to get a handjob, I’ll say so; she’s flexible about how she and I get off. I have no problem communicating a preference in how we’re sexually intimate, but … I can’t say no. I can’t just say I’m not interested.
It’s not like she hasn’t noticed. She has said outright that she knows I’ve never turned her down. And that if I ever did, she would know something was seriously wrong. And that’s true. I wouldn’t turn her down just because I’m too tired or I have my mind on other things. I can always get my head in the right place at least for a quickie; I always have.
In a way, it’s a moot point. The reason that’s the pattern is in part because I’m so hypersexual. Even as my body ages and finds its limits, my preference for frequency is much higher than what our lives allow. I pretty much am good to go all the time. And yet, it has occurred to me that our dynamics have evolved so that it’s not really an unconstrained choice.
This is not a two-way street. She can be, and frequently is, too tired, or unwilling to give up the extra sleep, or just plain not in the mood. I don’t nag; if she says “no”, it’s a complete answer. Not that she ignores when I say no. I just … don’t say it. Not ever.
The reason I bring this up is that I don’t know how much of this is my need to keep my partner happy; and how much of it is Thomas the self-described hypersexual kinkster. A certain amount of “anywhere, anytime” is important to my self-definition. And I don’t know how much of the rest is me playing out just the gender role Clarisse points out, and reacting to that role as my spouse projects it on me. But it’s not right to just let these assumptions hang around unexamined. So there it is.
As I am a lazy little girl today and quite frankly, just returned home from a garish night of doctors appointments and unhappy needle sticks. I am going to bed, but not before I leave you with a few more pretty pictures to look at…
I am a fan of rope bondage. Truly it takes a singular talent, time and appreciation. It is also one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
