Steellover

Yes, I am "Woke."  But I do not understand how we, as a society, have let that become a bad thing.

Let me explain; because I think there may be a widely shared misunderstanding of the term. 

When I was a kid, one of the things parents, teachers, counselors, and even fellow students drilled in my head over and over again was, treat people with respect.  Call people what they want to be called.   Address them how they want to be addressed.  I still remember the day my dad ripped me a new one, and subsequently grounded me for yelling the word, (negative word for an African American.)  "That's just mean, and it's DISRESPECTFUL."  he explained.  Then one day I observed these two kids being sent to detention for grabbing a girl's breast.  "Because women don't like that, it's disrespectful, and a gentleman would never do that!" The principal explained to us.  "So don't do it!" 

So, basically, I would think that most people (though clearly not everyone) would agree that groping women, yelling racist or homophobic slurs, and basically disrespecting other people is not a good or appropriate thing to do.  If you agree with that, then you, too, are "Woke."

So then, why is it considered a bad thing?  My theory is this:  I think some people ascribe it to a political movement, and automatically associate it with some far-left and dubious political causes.  Or they preach some fringe nonsense theory ("They are trying to convert everyone to being gay! They are coming for your children! They are going to replace all of us white folks!" they scream, and not without a certain amount of paranoia and spite.) Or they assume that "Woke" means that if you are NOT a minority, or not homosexual or transgendered, or merely, not a woman, you are supposed to feel some sort of guilt and self-loathing.  But that is not it at all!  Being "woke" should not have nothing to do with any of that stuff.

It just means, treat everyone as you would be treated, but more importantly, as they wish to be treated.  Love thy neighbor as thyself, as Jesus said. (So in that sense, you could say that Jesus Himself was "woke.")  Have respect for yourself, and for everyone else around you.

Is this really such a bad thing?

I never really thought about the sacrifices and the horror some of our veterans have endured until I saw this movie.

If you have not seen "Saving Private Ryan", then (without giving away any spoilers) I will say the opening scene, depicting the landing and slaughter at Omaha Beach, is unbelievably grim.

As kids, we would run around with our toy guns and pretend to storm imaginary beaches, run through the woods shooting imaginary SS troopers, and raid imaginary nazi bunkers. Just wade in, kick ass, take names. "Wow, I wanna be an army guy when I grow up!" we said, as innocent kids who didn't really know better.  

Real war isn't like those stupid GI Joe cartoons, or like those cheesy glory-filled action hero movies.  It's violent, scary, and grim. It's like "Saving Private Ryan," where not just the catastrophic death toll, but the fear, the suffering, and loss is unimaginable for anyone who wasn't actually there. 

So, today, I just want to take the time to say, for all those who suffered, endured, survived, and laid their lives on the line to fight for and protect what we have, even saying "Thank you" probably isn't even enough.  

I think there are some people, today, who take what we have in the US for granted, or perhaps do not even understand, nor appreciate, what our veterans have fought for. But for those who do, and again, for those who made those sacrifices, thank you so much.  Happy Veterans Day.

SS&TDP  (Short Sweet and To the Point:)

I hope everyone had a great Halloween, and I hope that, to all of those who suffered through a long Locktober, that your blessed and beautiful release is every bit as powerful as you imagined it would be.

Happy November! 

Annoying Creepy Guy:  "Mistress, you are so beautiful.  I want to be your slave!"

Annoyed Woman:  "Good, so since you are my slave, you will obey my every command.  Therefore as your new mistress, I order you to get the hell out of my sight and leave me alone."

Submissive Prospect:  "Mistress, you are hot!   I want to be your toilet!"

Mistress/Indoor Plumbing Expert:  "Well, I don't need a toilet, the one I have works fine.  But I do need a dishwasher.  And my washing machine is on the fritz.  Maybe you can come over and do my dishes and hand-wash my clothes for me."

Cavity Creep:  "Mistress, I need discipline.  Would you spank me?"

Irritated Object of Affection:  "Well, if you need discipline, my boyfriend here is a Marine Drill Sargent. I'll let him know, and he can discipline you for me."

Online Perv:  (sends a dick pick to online dating prospect)

Creeped out online woman:  (Sends a picture of a horse's ass back to online perv, then promptly blocks him.)

Ladies:  I apologize on behalf of all those clueless guys out there with no "game".  Maybe some of us were all there at one point.

Fellas:  If you find yourself on the receiving end of any of these lines...  You need to re-think your approach.

Why do some men submit?

For a complex array of reasons.  

Because we are taught it's better to give than receive, and this applies to pleasure as well.  Because if you love your partner, their pleasure should be more important than your own.

So we can learn how better to please our partners, both in bed, and in our daily lives.  So they can teach us not only how to be a better lover, but also, to be a better companion, a better boyfriend, and a better human being.  

And on that last thing, this should be why we should be picky about who we submit to.  I want someone who is a righteous, intelligent, and moral person, so I can grow and be a better person by being with them.  Not a swindler, scammer, bigot, or someone lacking in general empathy.

Because we admire strength, both physical, and strength of personality and of the mind.

Because the thought of someone else taking control and surrendering to them unconditionally is not only a huge sexual turn on for me, but it's an act of love.

These are my main reasons. 

I very consciously avoided talking about kinks here.  Yes, I obviously have them. But some people tend to get turned off by excessive wank fodder, so I will try to be "Good" and avoid posting about that stuff, from here on out.  And, in my years I've found that any relationship based purely on kink cannot last anyway.  After a while you crave the emotional and personal connection. 

It's Lock-Tober!  I wish I could share my experience of being locked in a chastity cage for the duration of this month, and give a day-by-day update on it.  I don't have a romantic partner at the moment, and if I did, she probably wouldn't be into that kind of thing anyway.  Which I suppose is partly disappointing and partly a relief, depending on how you look at it.  It depends on my own mood. I can think of plenty of people I know in real life I wouldn't mind being my key-holder/Mistress/lifestyle Domme; if they were really into such things...

So, while I've never been cock-locked before, and so I can't speak to the mundane logistical details about the experience (What is it like to ride a bike, for example, with a cock cage on?)  I can speak about the time I voluntarily tried not to jerk off for as long as I could- starting in mid-December several years back. 

I was, at the time, single as I am now.  I was out visiting family for Christmas, for sixteen days, and without too much privacy, I felt like it would be hard to get away with any self-eroticism (though I suppose the shower would have worked.)  And even though I planned to arrive back in town a couple days before New Years, I made a pre-New Years resolution: no cumming until after New Years. So I didn't.  I ended up going nearly 19 days without cumming.

The first week or so wasn't too bad. After a few days I did start occasionally craving sex, with the desire for release occasionally popping into my mind, but it wasn't too bad.  Plenty of other distractions- family, the holidays and all the accompanying obligations, kept my mind occupied on other things.

The second week, after Christmas was over, was a little harder. I woke up with wood every single morning. Although I was avoiding anything "Stimulating" (including, especially, looking at any kind of erotica on Mom's computer, which would be a family faux pas) I nonetheless found my thoughts turning increasingly "Dirty."  The more days that passed, the more extreme my fantasies got. I began to imagine all kinds of kinky scenes, always with me in a compromising position at the feet of my dream Domme, subjected to her increasingly twisted and sadistic whims. Hardcore stuff; whips, paddles, extreme humiliation, even toilet play.  By New Years' Eve, which I celebrated quietly with a couple buddies the day I got back, these kind of thoughts tormented me constantly.  On the drive back, I was in a state of near constant arousal. I thought of those Viagra ads:  "Seek Medical Attention for an Erection Lasting Longer than Four Hours." Was this even healthy?  Sex, the kinkier the better, was on my mind all the time, as was the thought of what my orgasmic release would be like once I allowed myself to. I toyed with the idea of stopping and seeing a "professional" on the way back, passing through Nevada, but passed that up. It just didn't feel right, and in any case I doubted I would find any brothel girls who were into the fem-domme stuff anyway, which, after two weeks, was all I could think about.

For some reason I waited a couple days even after New Year's Day had passed.  Somehow the torment of not being allowed a release was even more perversely pleasurable. It became a game, how long could I hold out, would my own self-discipline keep me in check?  I felt hyper-sexualized, almost like fire in my veins.  Yet, at the same time I was unfulfilled.  I had a super vivid dream the night of January 2, of being dragged into some bushes by a hot girl, holding pink spiked leash attached to my balls, and her repeatedly peeing on me, while mocking me and laughing. I woke up almost feverish with lust at that point. 

When I finally did let go, I literally orgasmed in my pants. It was actually embarrassing how it happened.  I have mentioned before that I'm not a particularly big fan of strip clubs, for a few reasons.  But I let a friend take me to one, a couple nights later. He paid for a private dance for himself, and I thought, why not, I may as well do the same.  Maybe it would give me a chance to ask the dancer if she had any friends who were into BDSM and dominance.  I asked her.  She said no, and then I was kind of embarrassed for asking, wondering if she now thought I was some kind of creep. (Part of the reason I'm not into strip clubs:  The girls do actually tend to think that about most of the guys who go there.)   The girl, a hot athletic honey blonde, got up on my lap and started grinding against me.  Well, under normal circumstances- I had had lap dances before- this wouldn't have been a problem but after nearly 19 days of pent up spunk, it was too much. As she rode me, I orgasmed myself, cumming in my pants just like a toddler peeing himself, to my deep embarrassment. I blushed, and actually apologized to her.  She just smiled and said it was okay.  I guess that kind of thing isn't that uncommon.   I really didn't intend for my self-enforced chastity to end that way, but that's how it went.  

In the subsequent years, I've tried it a couple other times and have gone as long as ten days, and as before, the longer I go the more open I am to more extreme  forms of BDSM play.  You could even call it a sub-frenzy, to use the proper term.  So to those of you lucky enough to have a real keyholder/partner, that make it through a whole month of denial and lock-up-  I salute you.  I can only imagine how docile you must be at her command, and how powerful that release must be once you have earned it. 

She stopped by this weekend.  I was working at an arts event, manning a table.  She knew I would be there, of course, so it wasn't a surprise or random encounter.

It has been nearly a year.  Seeing her was bittersweet.  Her smile was as radiant as ever.  Her warm, bubbly personality as sweet as ever.  She even gave me a hug.  We caught up on things. I told her what I had been working on, what I had been doing.  Various art projects, hiking in the mountains, more mundane work-related stuff.  She told me the same kind of stuff.

We'd gone out three or four times.  By then I realized I had kind of a crush on her.  A vanilla crush, much like a young school kid, longing for the times when I could just hold her hand, look into her eyes, kiss her, and hope for something more. 

I always wonder what I did wrong, for her to break it off.  She never told me.  At the time, I only told her, "I hope it wasn't because of anything I said, or did."  "Oh no...it isn't, It isn't that at all," she said, reassuringly.  I don't remember any awkwardness, or any strange reactions to something I said, or certainly, no arguments or heated disagreements.  

She was, of course, very vanilla, almost frigidly so, in spite of her warm, sweet personality.  Although I longed to kiss her, and for it to lead to something more, I never got to.  She just didn't seem to have the same passionate, romantic spark I felt.  I certainly never let any of my "kinky" side show, and I wasn't about to.  She was the one for whom I would bury those "kink" feelings forever, never to let them out, because I wanted nothing more than to be with her and enjoy her for who she was.  So whatever it was that made her break it off, it wasn't anything like THAT.  I certainly tried to do everything right, treat her like a queen, show her a good time, do all those things a gentleman is supposed to do when he takes a woman out, and I thought that I did.  Where did I fail?  Only she knows that, and when I saw her the other day, I didn't ask.  I don't think it is really the right thing to do anyway.

But yet, it was good to see her. It really was.  She looked good.  Radiant, sweet. She was by herself and if she was seeing anyone else, she didn't mention it.  I honestly wasn't expecting her to stop by, as I had thought it would be awkward but it wasn't.  It was, however, bittersweet.  I hope she finds happiness wherever and with whoever she goes.

Thanks for sticking around to read this, what probably sounds like some kind of junior high melodrama to most of you.  I guess we never outgrow our need for romance. 

Ever been to a great concert, fun party, or huge festival, full of good, positive energy? 

Most of us cherish those feelings.  Just joyful people, smiling, walking around, celebrating, laughing, and having a great time.  Up until 2020, I think everyone took that for granted, until it was gone.  Dark times make you appreciate the light.

The weekend before last, two big festivals happened in my town, and there was another one this past weekend. I was working at one of them as a vendor, and the other one, I just went and enjoyed it on my own, but both times were just tons of fun.

The day after the event was over I went back down to the park. It was empty, the tents and vendors had cleared out, the bands had long quit playing and packed up, and the crowds were gone. But yet, somehow I still felt the afterglow, the good energy, and the positivity lingering in that space.  I think we should strive to carry these kind of feelings with us, even if we can't stay there forever.  Remember the positive joyful feelings that linger in joyful places, and keep a piece of it inside us if we can.

My soft limits:  Electro-stimulation, hard/heavy corporal, public humiliation.

My hard limits:  Sounding, permanent scaring/modification, castration...and Meth!

Both the drug, and the people involved with it.

There is a saying:  There are two possible options for a submissive who claims they have no limits.  One is that the won't be taken seriously.  The other is...that they will.  

And neither outcome is necessarily positive.

And on another note, this past weekend was Pride Festival here in town.  I was working at another event that was taking place at the same time, and unfortunately couldn't be at the actual festival, but there was definitely some overlap between the two crowds.  At one point, I saw an interesting couple walk by:  A beautiful voluptuous woman, with dyed magenta hair accompanied by a guy; petite, submissive, and wearing fishnets under his tiny shorts.  I didn't know what their relationship was and didn't want to ask.  I felt it would have been too personal.  I'd like to THINK that She was the mistress and he was her sub, and if so, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous, but I have no idea whether they were just friends who were attending the festival together, or whether there was any kind of kink/intimacy between them.  Overall, Pride Festival by all accounts was a huge success. It makes me smile to see all the rainbow flags around town and sported by people who (like me) may not actually be GLBT but who certainly support people expressing themselves for who they are.

Our town is having their annual GLBT festival this weekend.  It is an event with live music, entertainment, booths, vendors, and a parade, with a theme for acceptance and visibility for those in that community. Whether you are gay, bi, or straight, this is an event that deserves all of our support.  Many of us explore our own sexualities that are not always accepted by the mainstream, so it makes me feel good to see people visibly and proudly showing off their own, able to be themselves, and express themselves.  There is also a big art festival happening in town this weekend as well.  I generally love this time of year, because there is so much happening, the weather has cooled off to tolerable levels but it's not too cold and ugly to be outside yet.  So anyway...that's all I got.