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Steellover

Random thoughts. Some of them will be erotic and kink-related, but some of them won't be, and as such people might find them boring. Some will be related to personal fantasies, but some to personal experiences as well.
2 months ago. September 11, 2022 at 3:41 AM

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.

2 months ago. September 8, 2022 at 3:42 AM

This is pure fantasy; but it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve posted anything, so I figured it would be time for a little “Fun.” 

(While I was not personally involved with this scene, I can only dream of those lucky enough to find themselves there….)

_________________ _____________________________________________  _______________________________

She stood there in her dimly lit bedroom. Wearing her red leather boots, black leather push-up bra and that tiny, pleated little red miniskirt.  Her beautiful tan, sexy body practically dripped with sex. And she may or may not have been wearing anything underneath that tiny skirt…

Most guys would stare in unbridled lust at the sight of a hot girl- ANY girl- dressed like that, standing in front of them, alone in her bedroom.

But for me, it was a mixture of lust, but tempered with overwhelming fear and anticipation.  I’ve learned to be the most afraid of her whenever I saw her dressed that way.  Fearful, and yet excited by the dark places she was about to take me.

And I was not standing.  I was kneeling, naked at her feet, groveling at her boots.  Because that was what she had commanded me to do.  And that was how it was meant to be.

Though I suppose I was not entirely naked. I still had that leash tethered around my balls.  She held one end of the leash right now in her hand.  The other hand held a flexible 18 inch aluminum ruler.

After an interminable silence, she finally spoke.  “Stand up!”

I practically jumped to attention.

“Did I tell you to get hard?  Who gave you permission to get hard?”

“I’m sorry, mistress. I can’t help it, I…”

She swatted my erect cock with the ruler.  “Then your tiny, pathetic cock needs to be punished.”

“Eyes on the floor. Don’t look at me unless I tell you to.” She said then. I felt the ruler give my cock three more swats, the last one hard enough to make me double over.

“That’s better, slave.  Back down on your knees.”

“One question,” she added, “Did you clean the toilet well, like I asked you to?”

“Yes, mistress.”  I replied.  I had, in fact, spent the last hour making sure the bathroom was utterly spotless.

“You better have!  Or else…no reward for you.”

God it had been so loooonng, since she had allowed me to orgasm.  My cock, caged for so long, throbbed purple and ready to burst like a sausage.  How long had it been?  Two weeks this time?  Almost three, by my count.  She was ever the merciless little tease, though.

One of her rules was, that she had to enjoy at least twenty orgasms to every one of mine.  How- and with whom- she achieved them was entirely her choice of course. I knew she had had her fun though,these past two or three weeks.  She had even made me watch on at least one occasion, tied up, naked, cock painfully swollen in its cage, while I witnessed one of her lovers pleasure her. Both of them together liked humiliating me.  I knew my modest sexual equipment could never satisfy her. She had also made that painfully clear- pun intended.

But yet, I pleasured her in other ways, deeper ways; ways that even her most well-endowed lovers could not.

And as she dragged me into the bathroom by my cock leash, my knees painfully scraping the floor, I wondered what that would entail this time. 

On the tile counter was a large dildo.  Grabbing it, holding it to her waist, she commanded me to put it in my mouth. I eagerly did so.

“Did I see any hesitation, slave?” She asked.

“No, mistress.”  I said eagerly.

She slapped me. “Suck it harder, then.  Take it all the way down.”

I began to slurp it, sucking it eagerly, wanting it, needing that cock, and hoping I was doing it well enough to satisfy her.

“Craig’s is bigger than this!” she laughed.  “And I bet you would like to satisfy Craig wouldn’t you.  In fact, why don’t you pretend you are me, and this is Craig, and you just want to make that cock explode in your mouth.  Wouldn’t you like that?” 

I couldn’t speak, mouth being full of plastic penis, but I hoped my eyes conveyed the eagerness my mind still balked at.

“After all, that is why I’m training you to do this.  Since your tiny and pathetic little cock can never satisfy me, that’s why I have Craig, and Tim, and DeMurray.  Maybe next time they are over, you can be a little more thankful for them satisfying your Mistress for you!” She sneered.  Meanwhile I kept sucking, sucking, blocking everything out of my head but the need to do a good job- to please her.

After several minutes, she pulled it out of my mouth.

“Good little slut.” She said.  "Now, lick my boots.  Clean them for me.”

Eagerly, I began licking her boots, tasting the black leather, enjoying the power and radiance of her standing over me.  I could smell her, smell how sexy she was, that hot girl smell mixed with leather- it was almost overpowering.  My cock began to drip with pre-cum. I prayed she wouldn’t notice, but alas- she did.

“Stand up.  Face the wall!” she commanded. “Don’t you DARE cum without permission!”

“You just cleaned this floor.  Now look at it! There’s a drop of cum on my clean floor!” she cried.

“I’ll clean it again, mistress.”

“Oh, I know you will…but first you need to be punished.  Face the wall, Slave!”

I obeyed her, trembling.  This was the part I had so dreaded. She clipped my arms into cuffs hung from the ceiling, and legs into the leg irons she had made me rig up in a similar fashion, completely immobilizing me.

She began to spank me. The ruler stung, sharp, each slap feeling harder.

“You don’t DARE drip cum from your PATHETIC cock onto my floor!” she screamed.  The whaps were coming harder and faster now.  I could almost take no more but I had to be strong, endure it, for her.  She reached for her flogger. The thick leather one, that could leave bruises if She so chose. I felt two, then three huge thuds and I cried out for each one. The safe word was almost at my lips.  I didn’t want to disappoint her, I wanted to endure it and be strong for her, but I didn’t know how much more I could endure.  But it was then that she granted me a reprieve. I was trembling, exhausted, in pain but yet sweet bliss. I had endured her worst, and yet now I felt I would do still more…all for her.

"I guess that will do slave.   Are you sorry?

"Yes mistress!  I am so sorry!"

She uncuffed me.

“On your knees slave.” She said. “Did you really clean the toilet like I asked?  And did you do a good job?”

"Yes, Mistress."

“Let’s see how good of a job you did.  Kneel in front of the bowl.”  I crawled two feet over and did so.

“Lift the seat!” she ordered.  As a rule, the seat was never left up in her house. I had rather quickly learned not to commit that cardinal sin.

“Now…Lick the rim.  And the dry part of the bowl. If it’s as clean as you say, you won’t have a problem doing that, will you, slave?”

“No mistress.”  Almost out of my mind now, I felt compelled to obey. My tongue tasted the cold porcelain, as I ran it around the rim and into the bowl. As gross as this was, I didn't dare disobey, and truth be told, I HAD scrubbed and disinfected it pretty thoroughly.  Luckily, I thought.

“Good job slave.  Now for your reward…”

“Yes mistress?”

She slapped my bare ass again.

“NEVER talk out of turn!  Let me finish!   So…Your reward. I know you want to cum so bad, don’t you.” She said.

“Of course, mistress!”

“Then, since as you know, your pathetic tiny cock can never satisfy me, and the seed of inferior men isn’t fit for anything else, you will relieve yourself into the bowl, so I can flush it down.  You may unclip your leash and start stroking it.”

I did so.  Kneeling before her commode, I eagerly began stroking my cock, which was now back at half-staff.  In no time flat I was hard as a rock, though still oddly nervous and trembling from the rush of enduring her punishment. 

I heard her command me, “Stroke it harder! Faster, slave!” and that got me going.

In that moment, I was no longer me. I was Craig, DeMurray, Tim, and all of her lovers at once, imagining myself in their place, taking her like a man, enjoying the feel of thrusting into her delicious tight, tan body in that tiny little skirt.  I could actually hear her moan and giggle as she watched me.  I was her lover, I was imagining her moaning, screaming with pleasure and twitching under me, just like I had seen her in real life as a caged up slave with her lover, but now… then, it was all too much, and I felt my body begin to shake.  Weeks’ worth of pent up sexual frustration all exploding at once. Gushing like a geyser, spurt after glorious spurt, into her….

….into her cold porcelain toilet bowl.  Reality came crashing back to earth.  This was my place, on my knees, before a genetically and intellectually superior woman.  Wow, I loved her.  The feeling that came over me was indescribable.

 She laughed and moaned with delight.  “Lick it up, slave!” she ordered. I leaned into the bowl, felt her boot at the back of my head push me in.  She would not be completely satisfied until she saw me lick up every last bit of jizz.

Later that night, cuddling in each other’s arms, I thanked her for taking me to places I had never imagined.  Her, satisfied and glowing, and me, basking in the warm afterglow of sub space, with the woman of my dreams who had taken me there.

3 months ago. August 17, 2022 at 4:59 AM

Part 1:

The other night I had a dream.  It was dark, the middle of the night, but we were all out on the flat part of the street where we all grew up together.  All of us kids again, 10, 11, 12- all together. We were riding our bikes up and down the street, onto and off of people's driveways, play jousting, playing tag, or lining up and riding single file, playing "follow the leader."  Just being kids on bikes again, like we did so long ago:.  Pat*, Jesse, Dennis, Curt, my brother and me, even Jon Dzeng who used to live next door to Dennis and Pat, and who I haven't seen or thought about in 40 years since he moved away.    Except it was just us, and we were like ghosts- in the dead middle of the night, all the adults were asleep, and we could, just for a short time, be the whole gang together as kids once again.  Everyone has long since grown up, moved on, had kids of their own, and we will likely never see each other again, at least in this life- and Dennis has already left even that behind.  And the other kids, even their parents no longer live in that neighborhood.  But I'd like to think that somehow, every one of those guys somehow had the same dream that night, and so we really WERE together; and this dream was a shared reality for all of us together, as unlikely though that would be. That would have been nice.

(*obviously I'm not gonna use their real names on an adult-website blog, silly.)

Part 2:

The other day, I took a drive, back to the town where I had gone to college and spent much of my formative early adult years.  I saw a friend, we went out for lunch, went on a walk, stopped off at the pet store.  But afterwards, on the way home, I swung by our old house.   It was an old Victorian, built clear back in 1890, which five of us- three guys, one girlfriend- all rented and lived in.  Back in the day, this place was full of fun activity.  Big groups of us played volleyball on the front lawn, sometimes up to five or six on a side. In the house, a refrigerator had been converted with a CO2 tap into a keg dispenser so the beer was always flowing- usually kegs of Budweiser, Pabst- that sort of beer, maybe once in a while we'd splurge and get Weinhards, But we were young and in college so it was fine.  People would stop by and hang out. Good friends; we were never lacking for fun people to hang with. Parties would happen, sometimes with hundreds of people, till the floor of the house was literally shaking with happy, joyous kids in their college years.  Once in a while, like the time we had our friend's band Morbsweeper* play outside in the yard, the neighbors would complain, but it was a mostly industrial area so we really didn't have that many neighbors. And in any case, we'd always let them know they were invited over, too. We did not want to be some exclusive frat house type place.  (And by the next party, the band was indoors in the living room.) Overall, there was laughter, and good times.

But now, the house stands forlorn.  The entire lot, including the grassy front yard which once rang with the shouts of volleyball players, had been paved over. The place had been turned into a maintenance yard for city transit vehicles, with busses and trucks parked all around.  A chain-link fence tipped with barbed wire surrounds the property.  The house itself is all boarded up now, in a state of neglect and disrepair.  The paint has peeled off the sides of the house, and even the bright red and blue trim is faded and sad.  This house, full of happy memories, is now in the throes of its final days as a standing structure.  I suspect that within a couple years, perhaps as soon as the next time I return to the old town, it will be gone, just a memory.

I guess all good things end, don't they.  Cherish the good times when you have them, people.  It's okay to look back at the past, but I guess, also strive to make new good things happen today.  

(*not the real name of the band, either.)

 

3 months ago. August 15, 2022 at 4:42 AM

Yesterday, I was hanging out with a vanilla friend whom I am NOT dating, but who I've known for many years. I won't go into the long back-story of how I know her, (she was dating a friend and blah blah, etc.) But the point is, we had hung out and taken her dog for a walk, and  at one point, had stopped off at the pet store.

 

They had a huge variety of leashes, harnesses and collars there.  Some with spikes, some leather, and most of them highly adjustable. These were meant for canines, but I could see plenty of ways these could be easily adoptable for...submissive males. Keep your man in line, keep him on a short leash, and if need be, give it a firm tug if he ever is too hesitant or unruly.

 

And that thought, well, it kind of got me aroused.  I was biting my tongue; I was going to make darn sure I wasn't going to say anything the least bit "Inappropriate," or, God forbid, that would possibly clue her in to some of the "naughty" thoughts I was having.  This girl is beautiful, by the way; most men, submissive or not, would still turn their heads to look at her, and most submissives would orgasm in their cock cages at the thought of her holding the other end of one of those leash/harnesses tied around their neck (or, better yet, other parts of their body.)

 

But, like a "good puppy," I didn't say anything. We have been good friends for years.  She doesn't know I have these kinds of feelings.  Which is fine; I actually don't want her to know.  Sometimes our most intimate desires should be saved for our most intimate partners.  Today was two good friends, having a nice walk in the woods, a good lunch, and spending a nice day together, catching up on life.  It was a good day.  

 

So, to get to the point of all this, if you people are looking for a source of Adult "Toys" then I might recommend looking into actual re-purposed pet gear as an alternative.  Some of those studded leashes and harnesses even look like they could cinch up tight enough to lead a partner by the "other" head (so to speak) if so desired.

4 months ago. July 24, 2022 at 5:55 AM

Today was Goddess Fest, returning for the first time in three years (like many festivals it has taken a long hiatus, but unlike many, it was not a permanant one.)

One of my favorite local festivals. Dedicated to the power, beauty, and intelligence of women, and to the spirituality and worship of thereof. 

Not in a BDSM way, necessarily.  In fact, it's not unlike a lot of festivals- vendors, live music (mostly female acts of course) food, and so on, only the majority of the vendors were oriented towards new age spirituality, healing, art, and wholesome and positive energy.  Which is why it's always been one of my favorite summer events. Just the energy and positivity here always makes it enjoyable.  And I even saw an old friend who I hadn't seen since before lockdown. 

So yeah- a good day.  I'll keep it short this time.  Every entry doesn't need to be a wall of text.

4 months ago. July 21, 2022 at 4:17 AM

This is all hypothetical, and told, mostly from a submissive male's perspective, in the service of a beautiful dream goddess.

 

She led him through the mall, by the leash around his neck.  Forcefully threw him against the nearby wall by the food court. "Face the wall." She commanded. "You will keep your EYES on ME at all times, and NEVER ogle those other girls! DONT THINK I DIDN'T NOTICE, SLAVE!" She barked. Then, reached into her purse for her paddle.  WHACK! came the paddle, hard against his buttocks.  He whimpered in pain. "I'm so sorry Mistress..."

Meanwhile, a mother and her two daughters scurried away, all three with looks of horror on their face. A young boy sitting at a nearby table said, "Why is that woman so mean?  And why does that man have a leash on?"  The father, aghast, did not even know where to begin to explain.

 

Then, another couple at a restaurant.  The man, kneeling adoringly in front of his mistress.  "Worship my feet. Thank you slave!" She barked.  The man, in a daze of frustrated lust combined with blissful adoration, willfully complied, oblivious to the staring couples at the table across the room- and the waiter standing nearby.  There was whispers and laughter.  Then, the manager walked up, and politely but firmly asked both Mistress and slave to please leave the restaurant.

 

So, bottom line...these scenarios don't really work so well.  In a public place, discretion is the better part of kink.  Kids, and members of the general public, probably aren't really ready to be unwilling participants in a public humiliation/discipline scene.

 

But yet...there are scenes in public that CAN work.  In a discrete way, of course.  The sub/slave could wear a short leash, not visible around his neck but around his balls, with only a small loop visible sticking out through his zippered pants.  As long as She is not blatant about it, an occasional firm tug on the short loop, in an uncrowded place, would still give him a clear message about who is in charge.  Or, he could wear clothing and jewelry that clearly indicates his position relative to Her, which a BDSM practitioner would be able to identify but a casual, perhaps more innocent, observer may not.  Even a T-shirt with a "PG-rated" saying ("Property of Ms. Julie," for example) might be okay.  And what he wears UNDER his clothes, of course, is entirely up to Her wildest imagination.  

There are some settings where it might be okay to push the envelope as far as public play.  We're not talking Temple Square in downtown Salt Lake City, of course!  In some cases, going too far with "Freaking out the Squares" could even get you in trouble with the cops!  But rather, places where "adult play" is more socially accepted and- key point- there are no minors or family types around.  For example, nude beaches, strip clubs, even some bars.  Some ideas: Make him wear tiny slutty shorts, or even fully cross dress (in some bars or settings this might be acceptable.)  Take him to a male strip club and openly flirt with the other men in front of him, and maybe buy him a lap dance and force him to enjoy it (and pay for it, too.)   I have even heard of more extreme scenarios, planned out in advance of course, where She forces Her plaything to work a glory hole - and subsequently and submissively service one of her acquaintances, (for safety's sake it would have to be her acquaintance)  Or, if ever She feels he needs to be corporeally punished, drag him to a private area, away from private eyes, and administer it where no family-with-kids types will see it.  If there is a known "Kink-friendly" bar or play space around- so much the better!  Then, it's, Mistress, do your worst... But sadly such places are few and far between in the heartland cities.  

But the key thing is, there are ways that these public scenes can happen in ways that do not disrupt the "Squares," families and kids going about their daily lives.  It's just a matter of the setting and the surroundings, and the way in which it is planned- Her wickedest imagination can know no bounds.

 

4 months ago. July 14, 2022 at 4:37 AM

It's been a couple weeks since I've written anything.  Luckily it's not like I'm a weekly newspaper columnist, or I'd be fired.  Plus, no respectable newspaper would publish this stuff anyway. I'm kind of new at this blogging stuff and don't know if I will keep it up forever, but once in a while I'll still try to post something.  I've been busy with various other projects, too- plus, it's summer.  Too nice out to sit indoors and type all day.

 

So... anyway, When you hear people say, "I believe in God" or "I am a Christian" then so often, people roll their eyes.

 

I can't say I blame them. Sadly, these days, when you say you are a Christian and a God-Believer, people immediately assume all sorts of things:  "You must be against such and such, then."  "You must be against sex, hate gays, vote Republican, and think women (and sometimes, minorities too) should know their place."  

But yet, that does not describe me at all!

It's like, so many of the most vocal self-proclaimed "Christians" often are against the very things Jesus preached about.  And that's important to remember.  These people who claim to be talking about God, are NOT God themselves, any more than I am.

Why do I feel the way I do?  I'll try to explain.

When I am in the mountains, by a high mountain lake, pristine, rocky and beautiful, with tiny wildflowers blooming, I feel a presence of light and joy, and am grateful for this glimpse of heavenly perfection.

I remember as a kid, in the winter, when it was dark, rainy and cold out, coming home and being greeted by my parents at the door, walking into a warm and dry house to sit next to the fire.  And feeling, this is what being with God is like.  It's like, coming home to a welcoming and loving place after being tired, hungry and cold.

It's like seeing the smile, the sparkle in Her eyes, of the woman I love. Making her happy and feeling her happiness.

I remember being a neighborhood volunteer; we had a grant from a local organization that provided us free burgers, food and ice cream, and putting on a free barbecue in the courtyard of these low income apartments with refugees from all over the world.  In addition to games and entertainment we put on for them. Kids of all races, laughing, squealing with joy, and seeing the smiles on their faces light up when we served them their free ice cream.

It's seeing the perfection in a tiny snowflake, or the huge glassy beauty of a large perfect quartz crystal mined in Brazil sitting in a museum, and wondering at the perfect architecture that created them.  

It's feeling signs of hope in trying times.  The rainbow outside of my office window that day in March of 2020, the last time I would look out of that office window for more than a year. Perhaps one of the darkest years most of us have experienced in our whole collective lives.

Being comforted in dark times, and providing hope and comfort to others. 

 

These things are all manifestations of God.

 

Sadly, knowing what the absence of God is has also driven me closer to Him over the years.  I don't want to go into it too much, but any time there is pain, fear, hatred, darkness, oppression and injustice, there is an absence of God.

People who preach that homosexuals should be put to death- that is an absence of God.  Those who claim to be "Faithful Christians" but yet support environmental destruction, unchecked greed and power, and contempt for minorities or the poor- that is an absence of God. Those who have utterly no compassion for women, and say a young girl must carry their rapist's baby to term, and while we're at it, let's slash health care for single mothers too- that too is an absence of God. Despite what they may call themselves.

 

And whether you believe His death meant anything more than just some rabble-rouser was executed by the government of the time: The fact that he believed that His death would open the door for all of us to reach these higher planes, to these dimensions of infinite light and joy, secure from fear and darkness, or people who- even the best of us- aren't always perfect a hundred percent of the time- that to me is powerful.  So I cling to that. 

Because I've seen reflections of those dimensions here, and I've tried, not always successfully, (and man have I sometimes struggled,) but I've tried to be a reflection of that myself.

 

I hope this hasn't come across as some kind of religious rant.  I don't mean it to be.  Partly I'm writing this because lately, I've seen so much darkness in this world in the guise of "religion," and I don't believe God himself ever wanted it to be that way.  I want to believe in light, joy, and a welcoming place to come home to, after being tired on a cold, dark winter night.

5 months ago. June 18, 2022 at 7:38 PM

Sometimes typing these up feels like writing essays. Funny enough, as a kid, I hated writing essays. This, on the other hand...I admit I had fun typing up this one.

So hopefully I'm not being graded here...

So, this is an essay about...Role playing.

Consider this scene:

In Mistress Si'Mone's Dungeon, Skyrizzi the thief listens at the door, but hears nothing. "All clear," he whispers.
So Vraylar the Dwarf and Sir O'Tezla of Primalast burst in...but immediately three ogres surround them! A roll indicates they have been surprised. "It's an ambush!" Vraylar cries. "Nothing on my skin, that's my new plan," Skyrizzi says to the game keeper, as he sneaks around the monsters' flank preparing for a back-stab attack. Eloquiss the mage barely has time to ready his fireball spell. Humera prepares a spell to lower their foes' ability to fight infections. Meanwhile Vraylar and O'Tezla prepare for some intense sword-playing action.

Several die rolls later, the three ogres have been vanquished. Vraylar and O'Tezla have wounds that need tending, so Humera the priest casts Cure Serious Wounds on each of them. Eloquiss gives each a healing salve, and after a search of the area, Skyrizzi discovers a pouch containing 124 gold pieces, and a jeweled amulet with mysterious properties that even Humera's arcane knowledge cannot fathom. (However, he soon realizes that Abbvie may be able to help.)

If only making money was that easy in real life. So, what's all this about?

When we were kids, we loved role playing games. I still have the old hard-cover editions of the Players Handbook and Monster Manual- the vintage first editions (the one with the big orange statue thing on the cover of the Players Handbook) and a pile of those polyhedral shaped dice somewhere. It's probably all boxed away at my parents house. Maybe I'll dig it out next time I'm out that way. We had hours of fun, after school, weekends, evenings with too much soda and popcorn (When we were too young for adult beverages. In college, standard gamer's fuel was Pabst and microwave corner-store burritos.) Though, through often questionable interpretations of the rules, our youthful characters almost inevitably grew to be hundredth level demi-gods with super powers, who could kill red dragons with a wave of their hands, because...why not, we were kids and it was fun to play super-heroes.

At some point though, typically when we got to high school, Dungeons and Dragons almost immediately became deeply uncool. Even a lot of the kids who had loved playing it as seventh and eighth graders now found it "nerdy." It was always weird how that happened. One minute it was what all the cool kids did, the next minute, if you liked D&D, you were some kind of geek, a social reject who wasn't cool enough to hang with the cool kids anymore. Some of us though, we still remained "closeted" Dungeons and Dragons freaks.

By college and beyond, occasional D&D campaigns would happen among various groups of friends. Only a few things were different. For one, we didn't care if we were "geeky" in fact, by college a lot of that stuff had kind of blown over anyway. Our game groups were a mix of the stoner types, hippie types, metalheads AND even a few of the more stereotypical nerds- all mixed together. The games were different too. It was more ROLE playing, becoming engrossed in the story line and the actual plot. The "Dungeon Master" (or game keeper, whatever they call it now) would put more work into actually coming up with a plot, and other fictional people for the players to engage with and interact with. And so, the characters got to do more than just roll a die once in a while. You were actually doing more real "Role Playing." In fact that was one reason a lot of our teenage and pre-teen D&D games got boring- "open door, kill monster, get treasure, repeat until you've cleared out the entire dungeon." It eventually became nothing more than just a die rolling contest. Playing it as a grown-up was more of an interactive storytelling experience, where everyone could really get engrossed in the whole plot and it wasn't just pointlessly hacking your way through a dungeon filled with random monsters.

The only problems that would ever arise is that sometimes the game would be so popular among our social circle, that too many people would want to join in. An ideal gaming session should be four to six players, certainly no more than seven- and a game master. Any larger than that, and the game sessions would devolve into nine or more people all jabbering at the Dungeon Master at once, or arguing with each other, and after a three hour session, barely anything would be accomplished in the plot- maybe we'd get through one battle scene, and that's it. So one lesson we learned- if you guys ever decide to get into role playing games; keep the group size manageable. 5-7 players (including the dungeon/game master) is perfect.

Way back when we used to play, and this hasn't been since around 2000-2001 or so, the game was still in it's second iteration of the rules. I believe now it is on it's fourth or fifth iteration of the rules, and the game is so changed that I bet even Gary Gygax (the guy that created the game in the early 1970s) probably wouldn't even recognize it. If I was ever to join in a game today, I'd probably have to re-learn the game all over again. For one thing, from what little I do know of the "New" system, there is a character class called an "Ardent." Like, we had wizards, thieves, fighters, priests, druids, even Paladins...but what the heck does an "Ardent" do? Use his mind powers to slay "Apathetics?" And is "Apathetic" a character class now, too? Or what about a "Constipator" or a "Phallatizer?" I dunno- fifth edition rules are weird. If my Stage Six Ardent now needs to only score an 8 on the QR Code to impact a Vulnerability Class C Half-Wookie Constipator, who is at Status 19, then I guess my character is pretty powerful. Or something.

But if you have no idea what I'm talking about, then don't worry, neither do I... I don't know Fifth Edition rules!!

Or, if you find role playing games just aren't your thing, then I promise I'll talk about something else next time. I briefly dated a girl who said she used to make fun of Dungeons and Dragons players during game sessions, to the annoyance of the people who actually playing. (They forgave her though, because she was really beautiful.) To each their own.

5 months ago. June 7, 2022 at 1:56 AM

I am, thankfully, not in a dark place at the moment, at least  not me, personally. I would not say that my life is perfect or that everything is perfect all the time.  I am actually filled with grave concern for the future, and where as a society we are headed.  But right now I think I am doing okay, which will make this easier to write and hopefully not come across as too angry or whiny.

Because I think most of us may be in the same boat, to some degree.  2020 was a very dark place, for the world, for everyone.  2021 got off to a bad start and was a little better, but still dark in many ways.  But the long days and months of isolation, boredom, loneliness, and despair have taken their toll on people in ways that may be visible but maybe not as evident. I know that, living alone, I suffered greatly from despair, as what I had thought would be a few short weeks of lockdown stretched into months, and then those months stretched into well over a year, nearly two:  No social events, no family gatherings, no concerts, carnivals, events, everything cancelled, and all those things that keep us all connected, bring us joy, keep us human, were gone.  Perhaps even living with someone in your own bubble would be difficult after a while, without those connections, save as intermittent squares on a computer screen.

I think in a way, many people, in fact this whole country, is still in a dark place. I don't want to get super political, lest I come across as some kind of partisan hack.  But I get concerned when I see ideas which, just a few years ago would have been considered irrational and even worse, highly toxic to a free and civilized society, gain legitimacy.  I get concerned when I see people who are at best, narcissistic bullies, and at worse, toxic, hateful, spiteful and ignorant people- the types who would have been dismissed as angry crackpots only a few years ago, being elected to public office despite openly spouting these toxic and hateful opinions. 

I am not pointing fingers at only one side here, so I will deliberately avoid mentioning any specific names and/or political parties; because I am sure there is plenty on both sides. Instead, I will focus on how we got here.

How did our once civilized dialogue become so toxic and irrational?  

Through Teams.  Okay, maybe not through the meeting application called Teams, but well, I won't say that wasn't a part of it, in a sort of aside kind of way.  But when people are forced into silos, disconnected from everyone else, and normal human interaction can no longer take place, people withdraw into these silos.  And so they go online, chasing their own rabbits down rabbit holes, looking for like-minded people.  And online, they find them.  But  they quickly come across people who are even more extreme, and more disconnected from reality, and so eventually they themselves become disconnected from reality.  Websites sprout up, claiming to be "The News," or "The Truth" but these sites really serve to make money off this appetite for increasingly extreme propaganda. To the point where it is no longer even a requirement to tell the truth.  During quarantine, I remember coming across so much blatant disinformation online- about the pandemic, the vaccines, the 2020 election- that I was driven to despair.  Because these online sites not only feed on paranoia and the baser impulses of human nature, but also seek to rally people to action.

So then "Truth" becomes subjective, no longer absolute.  How many times, for example, can an obvious falsehood be debunked through repeated investigations, before people finally accept it as false?  An infinite number of times, and not only that, people who are caught in these rabbit-hole silos will even commit acts of violence to defend that falsehood.

And now, people look at civil society as "my team" versus "your team." Ideas are not so much constructive, as much as designed to "Own the Libs" or "Piss off the Right Wingers."  Now, tolerance and acceptance has become a dirty word, "Woke," and compromise and cooperation is weakness.  Because it's all about "Support your team."  Lets go fly our flags with our politician's name on them, and drive up and down Main Street annoying our neighbors, like a bunch of Raiders fans driving through downtown Denver honking their horns. (Or Packers fans doing the same in the waterfront district of Chicago.) 

I believe much of this incivility stems from people simply being too isolated, too unable (as much as unwilling) to sit and have real face to face conversations with our neighbors, un-masked, and have real, rational discussions where we respect each other. Real conversations, not on Teams, not on Zoom.  Instead, with too much time on our hands, we chased our rabbit holes and found only darkness, people all too willing to prey on fear and base emotions, and capitalize on them.  The websites did it, now our politicians are doing it too.  And so here we are.

The way out of this is- get off line and actually start having conversations again.  Become engaged again.  Learn to recognize when people are planting the seeds of fear and paranoia, and resist. Fight back and counter the disinformation and blatant non-truths with logic and reason.  And learn compassion and respect again. Stand up against hate and discrimination, but that is not enough; learn to recognize when you are being manipulated to think that way; being controlled by fear, or controlled by a sense of "Join our team and help us own the libs/right wingers."

Stay out of rabbit holes, and rejoin the bright sunshine world.

I don't mean to make this too political so sorry if it is.  It's really part of a larger thing I've witnessed over the past two years.

6 months ago. June 2, 2022 at 4:46 AM

The story described below is fictitious, but bear with me, I'm going somewhere with it:

 

_____________________________

 

It had been two weeks since Cam had orgasmed in Her presence.  Two long weeks of frustration and longing.  Cam's balls ached to cum, sex was all he could think of and it was driving him to distraction.  So much so that she promised him that night, "Tonight, you will earn your release.  But only if you do one thing for me.  After all, remember our agreement, I get to have twenty orgasms to every one of yours. And I get to have them in any manner, and with whomever, I so choose.  So will be a good slave for me tonight?"

"Yes Mistress," Cam replied.

_____________________________

Later that evening, Cam was on his knees in front of Her. His cock uncaged for the first time in weeks, he had a raging hard-on at the sight of Her, looking so naughty in Her tiny little plaid skirt, and knee-high leather boots.  She wasn't wearing anything under that skirt, and even the smell of Her body was driving Him wild.  His cock was at full staff...

....but looking positively puny in front of Her lover, who stood next to Her, his equipment- nearly ten inches- also at full staff.

"You remember our agreement, right?" She barked.  "Do it then.  Get him nice and hard for me.  Fluff him.  You know you want it." She laughed. 

Her lover laughed too.  "Guess you're gonna be my suck boy, while I fuck your girlfriend, right?"  He sneered.  Cam was trembling.  After all this, could he really do this?

Leah reached around and grabbed his head, directing it at Erik's huge erect manhood.  "Go on then, slave.  That's right.  Put it in your mouth.  Like We practiced.  Do it for me.  Get him hard, and maybe I'll let you clean us both off afterwards.  And if you do your job well slave...Maybe you'll get your reward too." she whispered this last seductively. 

But then She barked, harshly, "Suck it slave!"  Cam felt Her flogger thwack his back.  She must have grabbed it off the bed when he was focused intently on the task in front of him, he thought.  

Gingerly, he steeled himself and grabbed Erik's penis, drawing it close to his mouth.  Slowly, he wrapped his mouth around it.  The taste...oh God, was he really doing this?  Erik's member filled his mouth, probing him, and forced it's way to the back of His throat.  It was gagging him, but he resolved to get it over with  and began slurping, bobbing his head up and down against Leah's lover's cock. The humiliation was surreal, but the thought of that gorgeous, huge cock about to satisfy Her, was like a dream.  He had not gotten to actually penetrate her (except with his tongue) in many months, so perhaps he could live vicariously through Erik this night.  Finally, after several minutes, Erik pulled his cock out of Cam's mouth, shaking. Cam gingerly swallowed the salty taste of pre-cum.  This was the first time he had tasted any that was not his own.  "Geez, that bitch of yours gives good head!  I almost came!" Erik said.  To which She replied, "That's why he gets to do it- After all, he knows that tiny little thing of his can never satisfy me!"

But later that night, when he finally orgasmed in front of his beautiful, majestic Goddess, the power and intensity of his release was like nothing he had ever imagined before.  Afterwards, he lay there at Her feet, panting and in a blissful head space.

___________________________________

This story is totally fictitious of course.  But yet, it brings me to my point, This isn't that uncommon a fantasy of submissive men, especially those who are into the more erotic and less- painful /masochistic side of BDSM.  

But why?  This is what I'm getting to:  Many assume that it's because these submissive men have repressed homo-erotic or bisexual fantasies and want a woman to help them fulfill these fantasies. While sometimes this is the case, usually it's for either one of three reasons, or a combination of them.

For one, there is the intense feeling of reveling in the absolute power of a dominant partner, and the desire to do anything to please them, and the more taboo and extreme, the better to experience this head space.  Erotic humiliation, being "Used" for Her pleasure, are a huge turn on, and it's much the same for other extreme BDSM activities that many kinky guys find arousing- it is the idea of being subjected to humiliating, degrading or taboo things for HER pleasure that gives the sub HIS pleasure.

And the second thing, is the voyeuristic aspect.  Like in the above example, Cam living vicariously through Her lover, getting to watch Her be pleasured, seeing Her satisfied is part of the turn-on, almost as if it really was him in Her lover's place.

And the final reason goes hand in hand with the first two:  Part of it is a feeling, whether valid or not, that he cannot sexually satisfy Her, but yet, out of love and obedience, he still wishes to see Her get sexually satisfied. Perhaps he is, in fact, a good, well trained lover, but Her needs are far greater than one man, even the horniest and most virile, to satisfy alone.  Or perhaps, like the above relationship, She loves, adores and cherishes him, but uses Her bull for her sexual needs- and nothing else, and this is simply part of the accepted dynamic of their relationship.  As long as it is mutually consensual, then it works for both of them, but of course there would need to be plenty of communication before such a scenario could evolve. 

But I post this in order to dispel the common myth that forced bi/cuck and bull scenarios are purely the product of men with repressed homoerotic fantasies.  Most of the time, these men would never willingly have any kind of sexual relationship with another man, they have no desire to. Rather, it is their HETEROsexual desire of their partner, that leads them to engage in taboo behavior for their partner's sake.

And finally, before I end this lengthy wall of text post, I've always been curious as to how many women are genuinely interested in a cuck-and-bull scenario as described above. If they are, do they actually get a turn-on by their husband/boyfriend actively watching and participating, or do they prefer to "Cheat" in private?  I know this is not that uncommon among submissive and sexually adventurous men, but I've been wondering how many women actually find these scenarios "hot."