The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider Freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more but have less, we buy more but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, and more medicine, but less wellness.
We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.
We have multiplied our possessions but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.
We've cleaned up the air but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more but learn less. We plan more but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.
These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits, and shallow relationships.
These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one-night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.
Remember to spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.
Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.
Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.
Remember, to say, 'I love you' to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.
Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.
Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.
And always remember, life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by those moments that take our breath away.
The BDSM emblem has no “obvious” symbolism because it was created to be enigmatic. To the vanilla observer who would be put off by BDSM, it is merely an attractive piece of jewelry. Thus, we can wear it freely as a friendly salute, nod, and wink to other BDSMers we should happen to pass on the sidewalks and in the hallways of our daily lives.
To the insider, however, the Emblem is full of meaning.
The three divisions represent the various threesomes of BDSM. First of all, the three divisions of BDSM itself: are B&D, D&S, and S&M. Secondly, the three-way creed of BDSM behavior: Safe, Sane, and Consensual. Thirdly, the three divisions of our community: Tops, Bottoms, and Switches.
It is this third symbolism that gives meaning to the holes in each unit. Since BDSM is at the very least a play style and at its greatest a love style, the holes represent the incompleteness of any individual within the BDSM context. However “together” and “whole” individuals may be, there remains a void within them that can only be filled by a complimentary other. BDSM cannot be done alone.
The resemblance to a three-way variation of the Yin-Yang symbol is not accidental. As the curved outline of Yin and Yang represent the hazy border between where one ends and the other begins, so do the curved borders here represent the indistinct divisions between B&D, D&S, and S&M.
The metal and metallic color of the medallion represents the chains or irons of BDSM servitude/ownership. The three inner fields are black, representing a celebration of the controlled dark side of BDSM sexuality.
The curved lines themselves can be seen as a stylized depiction of a lash as it swings, or even an arm in motion to deliver an erotic spanking. The all-embracing circle, of course, represents the overlying unity of it all and the oneness of a community that protects its own.
2 years ago. Wednesday, October 25, 2023 at 6:14 AM
Safety First!
It’s safe to say we’ve all engaged in a little titillation at one time or another! But, as with anything, there are varying degrees of intensity. Of course, here at UberKinky, we’re all about the extreme. So in order to protect your puppies, we have carefully devised this safety section.
If you’re new to nipple play, start by using your hands. This is the most basic way to tease and please. Breast/chest tissue tends to be more sensitive than other areas of the body and will lacerate much quicker than the bum cheeks, for example. However, nipples are more resilient than you think, particularly women’s. After all, they’re designed for breastfeeding. So, just take things slowly and monitor reactions.
Inverted nipples are at a greater risk of infection and irritation in the small folds of the skin. As such, any form of nipple torture that causes abrasion or breaks the skin should be avoided at all costs. That includes piercing and cutting.
As always, cleaning and sterilization of tools is vital. This is of particular importance when it comes to edge play, such as piercing and cutting. Wear sterile gloves and take all of the necessary precautions to stop disease transmission any time that bleeding is a possibility.
Now, to ensure you don’t make any serious boobs, follow these simple dos and don’ts;
Safety Do
Go slowly, gradually increasing pressure and intensity Check for circulation and numbness often Make sure any toys are cleaned and sterilized thoroughly Wear sterile gloves when bleeding is a possibility Stop immediately if you notice any discoloration on the nipple
Safety Don'ts
Leave nipple clamps on for more than 10 minutes to begin Use abrasive techniques (or those likely to cut/break the skin) on inverted nipples Be quite so brutal as with other parts of the body, such as the backside Engage in breast suspension bondage unless you have been trained properly
Nipple Orgasm No, we’re not pulling your tit; it is possible to have an orgasm from stimulating the nipple alone!
Playing with the nipples stimulates the genital sensory cortex, the same part of the brain that is stimulated when we play with our downstairs department. Although, shorter and sharper than a genital orgasm, nipple orgasms offer greater intensity and supreme sexual sensations. So, we assure you, it won’t take long to get to grips with the idea.
Of course, preferences vary from person to person; what does it for one won’t necessarily do it for another. Some love to have their nipples twisted and bitten, while others find it far too painful. In addition, women’s breast sensitivity will vary throughout the month, so bear in mind what she enjoys one week, she may loathe the next.
Now, stop being a tit and try it for yourself!
How To Have A Nipple Orgasm
1. ATTENTION!
After this step, nipples will be standing tall, proud, and ready to receive. So, make them hard with anticipation and give an all-new meaning to ‘getting a raise’. Do this by gently squeezing the nipples with the fingers, but do not pinch or twist at this stage. After they are raised, you or your playmate should begin massaging in a circular motion with increasing pressure. Come on; it’s time to raise your game!
2. LEARN A NEW TONGUE!
Of course, you can only enjoy this particular task if you are playing in pairs. It could be quite entertaining for solo players to try licking their own nipples, but it will probably ruin the mood! With the tip of the tongue, lick the nipple in circular motions, using the finger at the same time to trace the nipple and keep it erect. Suck, lick, and flick the nipple with the tongue. Try nibbling gently too. You’ll certainly get a taste for it!
3. PREPARE TO SUCK!
Not like that; rest assured, you’ll be doing everything just right. It’s time for suction only; lips should be pursed around the nipple for a gentle suck. The pressure is gradually increased creating an environment similar to a vacuum. That powerful suction will increase sensitivity and size, magnifying the supreme sensations being felt. If you’re alone, try using a pump. It’s certainly one time when being a sucker is a good thing!
4. IT’S GOOD TO TALK!
In order to ensure a successful nipple orgasm, it’s vital that you communicate with one another. That way tops can focus their attention on what feels good and really get the juices flowing. Don’t worry if it doesn’t happen the first time around, nipple orgasms take time to perfect. You’re going to really enjoy it when it does, and we’ll be here to say, “Told you so!”
Nipple Torture
The thing of nipple nightmares; tit torture will give you a sensational wake-up call when it comes to sadistic satisfaction!
Ranging from light to extreme punishment, nipple torture can incorporate a variety of different ways to play, delivering new and unique sensations. In response to the applied stimulus, the body does not have time to recognize what is happening and processes it as pain. The result is waves of pleasurable endorphins (the body’s natural painkiller) being released into the bloodstream. Endorphins inspire an elated state and an intense natural high. In addition, the psychological aspect involved with power exchange is a huge turn-on for many.
2 years ago. Thursday, October 19, 2023 at 3:33 AM
Here’s the thing that some people don’t seem to understand about sex & kink. You have to respect boundaries before you get to push them. You have to show people they’re safe before you get to make them feel scared. You have to respect people before you get to degrade them. You have to be normal with people before you get to be dirty with them. You can’t be skipping steps. Treating them like a person always comes before treating them like a toy.
As the plane rose higher, the sun poked its brilliant face out from behind the clouds, as I sat with my journal in hand and penned this story for the last time.
I love flying. There’s nothing more fascinating and awe-inspiring to me than to be floating above the world, on my way to some new adventure. I fight for that window seat like an excited child so that I can watch the magic unfold. I know that flying isn’t really magic—like everything, it has a very practical and logical basis that allows us to traverse oceans and mountain tops as if we’re strolling down to the corner shop for milk and the newspaper of a Sunday morning. But like everything practical and logical, although it may not be magic, it is magical—and I try hard not to forget that.
The best test for how truly magical something is, is how quickly it reveals the important things; and this day in the air, the revelations came thick and fast. I was shaken from my quiet reverie by a wave of bone-rattling turbulence. A part of me loves these bumps in the road—perhaps it’s the adrenaline or the reminder that we truly are rushing through the air, despite the otherwise silky smooth glide upwards. Another part of me—the human part—immediately panics.
As generally not a panic-stricken person, these episodes come as quite a shock and I find myself examining my behavior as if it’s happening to someone else, and the abnormality of my reaction only heightens my “flight” response (pun intended).
This time my thoughts turned, directly, to a past love. Things between us ended, many times, and also never really did. The moment we locked eyes in a crowded room almost two decades ago, something inside me slipped quietly into place. I can almost hear Lady Fate whispering “Ah, there you are”, with a knowing smile.
Since that day, we’ve crashed together just as often and just as hard as we’ve ripped ourselves, and each other, apart. It’s always been complicated, frustrating, strained, beautiful, ugly, and real, all at once. After the last time we walked away, I truly thought we were done, and I can’t remember ever being sadder.
And yet, only days before I flung myself through the sky in a giant tin can, we’d come together again—the kind of carnal, animal, godly union most of us in one lifetime get to achieve. We ripped at each other's skin trying to tear away the layers that kept our spirits from caressing one another.
I was overcome by the effortlessness with which we made the kind of love that was stripped of pretense, and driven by some invisible cosmic engine. Our essences—something aside from but intrinsically part of the people we knew—poured out from some unknown edge and took over our bodies. Waves of exhaustion that seemed insurmountable were overshadowed by boundless energy activated by a sweeping glance, a curious trailing finger over a bare chest, a stare that lasted moments too long—again, and again, and again. Chemical, but far more than chemistry; mechanical and automatic, but otherworldly.
We’d done this dance a thousand times, a thousand years ago. Of course, all the glossy pages of sex tips involving ice cubes, and beautiful women sensuously biting into strawberries can’t give us what the Universe and some serendipity can deliver straight into our laps when we least expect it. It’s odd, the way the most precious things appear to us in the most mundane ways—across the bar, at a friend’s wedding—in a smokey room 20 years earlier, lounging on a deck chair sipping cheap beer and staring at you. Given everything that had transpired between the two of us, and all the true, deep heartbreak it had brought, I expected the regretful thoughts to begin running behind my eyelids as I closed them against the sounds of rattling bags and nervous passengers.
Why had I let myself go to him, again, when I knew how this would end? Why had I gone back, ever? Why had I let him go? Why hadn’t I been better, loved better, fought longer? Why had I stayed? Instead, only one phrase arrived and refused to budge: “I’m so glad I got to love you.”
Flashes of our last night together: a handful of scratches down my back. The desperate, violent depth of his mouth crashed against mine. The scent of red wine, cigarettes, and shaving cream on my pillow the next morning; was another trigger that would throw me off course and back to that bed in years to come. Tiny bruises on my collarbone told stories of fierce wanting.
Each memory was infused with a dichotomous sense of purity and honest reality. This wasn’t a movie. There were no scented candles or well-articulated love confessions under rainy streetlights. And, despite the real love that practically flooded the bed, there was also no picket fence and Labrador joyfully bounding around with giddy children in the perfectly manicured backyard in our future.
And for the first time, I realized I didn’t need any of those things. Every time we tried to take this creature that was us and contain it in the definition of a traditional relationship, we were forced to stand back and watch it break free and break us in the process. Conversely, when we set the creature free—when we neither denied its existence, nor did we try and tame it to eat from our hands and do tricks like a circus poodle—it grew lustrous and bold, and we achieved ecstasy. I didn’t need promises that we both knew no one could truly keep. I didn’t need the approval we knew we would never get from those I cared for. I didn’t even need the understanding I’d always fought so hard to garner—for someone to see us the way I did.
I realized I’d never needed them, and if these were my last moments I would be satisfied. While the primal part of my mind got a quick, hot taste of its mortality and ran around flipping alarm switches, it was stopped in its tracks by an unexpected sense of peace and gratitude. I knew only a few things for sure: I loved this man in the corners and crevices of my soul that had lain dark and dormant before him, I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t, and I couldn’t have him. None of this was new but had—for as long as we’d known—seemed like an impasse.
This day, it was freedom. I found you. We found what others spend their whole lives simply tasting on the winds. The picket fences and the scented candles could come later with some other soul—perhaps simply my own, but right now I was free. In those moments, naked and true with you, I’d seen past the veil, past death and supernovas. It was just us, dancing in the dark. See, we can love someone or we can possess them, but very rarely can we do both—and never can we control or dictate those loves that have been predestined, decided long ago to be true regardless of whether that suits us or not.
We do, however, get a choice. We can walk away from those loves if we truly wish; if we can muster the strength it takes to defy The Weaver, for this lifetime at least. We can choose to fence them in, and watch them wither away for the time we have them.
Or, we can see the magic behind the mundane, and bow down to it. And so as the turbulence cleared, and the nervous excitement of the crowded plane settled into nonchalance, I allowed my heart to fall to its knees.
While online today, searching for a new "toy." I was pondering the question... Hitachi Magic Wand vs. every other vibrator out there. At this time, I am not in a relationship. So, I reach for it more and more. I adore The Hitachi. It's first-rate in my book. When I'm in a relationship, I beg for The Wand as well. I would love the hear feedback from Dominants and submissives. What's your take on The Wand? Is it part of your repertoire? I would love to hear from you...
I am an incurable romantic I believe in hope, dreams, and decency I believe in love, Tenderness and kindness. I believe in mankind. I believe in goodness, Mercy and charity I believe in a universal spirit I believe in casting bread Upon the waters. I am awed by the snow-capped mountains By the vastness of oceans. I am moved by a couple Of any age – holding hands As they walk through city streets. A living creature in pain Makes me shudder with sorrow A seagull’s cry fills me With a sense of mystery. A river or stream Can move me to tears A lake nestling in a valley Can bring me peace. I wish for all mankind The sweet simple joy That we have found together. I know that it will be. And we shall celebrate We shall taste the wine And the fruit. Celebrate the sunset and the sunrise the cold and the warmth the sounds and the silences the voices of the children. Celebrate the dreams and hopes Which have filled the souls of All decent men and women. We shall lift our glasses and toast With tears of joy.”
— Leonard Nimoy, A Lifetime of Love: Poems on the Passages of Life
2 years ago. Saturday, September 30, 2023 at 7:18 PM
* Why ~ Annie Lennox ~ Diva * ( I Know ) I'm Losing you ~ Rod Stewart ~ Every Picture Tells A Story * Lullaby ~ The Cure~ Disintegration * The Girl From Ipanema ~ Astrud Gilberto, Stan Getz ~ Work From Home * Rebels ~ Tom Petty And The Heart Breakers ~ Southern Accents * Short Skirt /Long Jacket ~ Cake ~ Comfort Eagle * Hard To Concentrate ~ Red Hot Chilis ~ Stadium Arcadium * Romeo And Juliet ~ Dire Straits ~ Making Movies * Karma Police ~ Radio head ~ OK Computer * Let's Dance ~ Davie Bowie ~ Let's Dance
Romeo And Juliet ~ Dire Straits
A lovestruck Romeo sang the streets a serenade Laying everybody low with a love song that he made Finds a streetlight, steps out of the shade Says something like, "You and me, babe, how about it?"
Juliet says, "Hey, it's Romeo, you nearly gave me a heart attack" He's underneath the window, she's singing, "Hey, la, my boyfriend's back You shouldn't come around here singing up at people like that Anyway, what you gonna do about it?"
"Juliet, the dice was loaded from the start And I bet, and you exploded into my heart And I forget, I forget the movie song When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?"
Come up on different streets, they both were streets of shame Both dirty, both mean, yes, and the dream was just the same And I dreamed your dream for you and now your dream is real How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals?
When you can fall for chains of silver you can fall for chains of gold You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises they hold You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin, yeah Now you just say "Oh, Romeo, yeah, you know I used to have a scene with him"
"Juliet, when we made love, you used to cry You said 'I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die' There's a place for us, you know the movie song When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?"
I can't do the talks like they talk on the TV And I can't do a love song like the way it's meant to be I can't do everything but I'll do anything for you I can't do anything except be in love with you
And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be All I do is keep the beat, the bad company All I do is kiss you through the bars of a rhyme Julie, I'd do the stars with you any time
"Juliet, when we made love you used to cry You said 'I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die' There's a place for us you know the movie song When you gonna realize it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?"
And a lovestruck Romeo, he sang the streets a serenade Laying everybody low with a love song that he made Find a convenient streetlight, steps out of the shade He says something like, "You and me, babe, how about it?"
2 years ago. Friday, September 22, 2023 at 7:03 AM
Most everyone has experienced at least one heart-wrenching relationship that ended too soon or not soon enough. That left them deeply aching in the center of their chest where a loving, beating, beautiful unscathed heart used to rest. Days pass and there are tears. There are regrets and the red flags come marching, parading thru your nightmares like a knife. You wake in a lovely haze forgetting for mere moments that you are still broken. That you are alone. That your heart is so mangled with the trauma that there's no inconceivable way it's ever going be ok....then it so cruelly comes rushing back. Flooded by feelings over again.
Days pass and even more... and sometimes it's years. It becomes easier to close yourself off and quietly pack away the remains of your heart than even bear the thought of opening it back to someone. People come. People leave and it isn't even like you're trying to disguise the lack of complete feeling you've been left with. The numbness and they see it. They see it in your eyes and you know they see it. They hear it in your voice. They ask if you're ok and you say yes, but they know...
This is how some people stay. They get lost in it. Settle into it, like a new skin. Consumed by it. They mourn it, crawl around in it while taking every single painful memory in their hands...trying to reshape it. Make sense of it. Until they realize there's no sense to be made.
And then they wake from this hibernation. To rejoin the living. They decide to fight for themselves. To take back what was taken. They practice self-care and they eat. They drink water. They pray and they meditate and they are gentle with their body. They show grace and forgiveness to themselves. Of their choices. They mend friendships. They find a hobby. They write. They sunbathe just to feel the sun on their skin. They drive without destinations. They laugh. They do the things they once loved and stopped doing for someone else. Realizing in retrospect they emptied so much of their soul out into someone that was never going to be full until they, were completely and utterly empty.
You press on. If only in the motions. Heart memory is like muscle memory...It quickly starts to remember. Your heart starts to feel. To beat steadily. If only you let it. It starts to love again. Not someone else, but for the sheer hope of happiness, peace, and light filling your days again. You find a renewed love for the simplistic and mundane.
Then somehow after that time. that pain. the "my heart will never be able to go thru that again" it forgets. Or forgives. It fades. You find it open to every possibility. It doesn't scare the fuck out of you anymore. The closeness, Openness. Bearing your soul. The possibility of another heartbreak. It is resilient. The heart is the most resilient creature and the most fragile, but most of it's built for love. It will always be built for love.
