2 years ago. Sunday, September 17, 2023 at 9:43 PM
His hands. That was the first thing she noticed about him. He had long fingers that were slightly calloused. The skin bore the marks of a man who worked hard. Her eyes focused on his hands as he talked. She listened as he talked about his job, his favorite artists, his favorite bands, his favorite writers, his crazy stories about traveling, and, his family. She watched him talk with his hands, effortlessly moving them as he spoke, unaware of how they affected her. She was lost in her thoughts, wondering how they would feel on her skin, moving across her face, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples, squeezing her ass, rubbing her now-drenched sex. Suddenly, he reached across the table and touched her hand, jolting her back to the conversation. She was so surprised at how soft his hands were when he touched her. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” She was.
2 years ago. Friday, September 15, 2023 at 7:33 AM
To whomever, the minion in charge at the Acme Build-a-Dom company may be,
Good afternoon. I am writing because I, having seen your ads raving about the new options on the UltDominantD8000, ordered your product and have been, shall we say, far less than satisfied with the results. I may have a mislabeled DomlyDom200 on my hands. I am hoping you can help to rectify the issues, or I can ship it back to you (minus a few bits that may be missing after I felt compelled to kick the living shit out of it a time or two… in my opinion, a more than justifiable act, and the company shouldn’t penalize me for it) for a refund.
First off, my model whines. A LOT. I attempted to see if it needed a shot of WD40, but the model strongly objected, so I had to abandon that effort. I also can’t seem to find a control switch for this particular problem… though it is often distracted by surprise bouts of oral sex. Regardless, the whining is nearly incessant. It wants more of this, needs more of that, nothing is ever right, it should be king of the universe, etc. It is enough to drive a girl out of her MIND. It not only whines, but it (and I’m not kidding you here) also pouts. (…) POUTS, I tell you! If whatever it is that is causing the whine is not immediately addressed, and with huge helpings of apologies and ass-kissing on the side, then it will alternately throw a fit or sulk in passive-aggressive silences, sometimes for days. Now, I KNOW I ordered the extra option of ‘clear communication’, but obviously that was either not installed or not activated. Either way, I am one more whine away from turning my purchase into the end scene from Terminator. Do you feel me?
My model (I named him, but honestly? I’ve gotten so used to just calling him ‘bane of my existence' under my breath that I can’t remember what I meant to call him) also has a major issue with inconsistent behavior. That was a major requirement I listed on the order form… CONSISTENCY. This is NOT what I got. I thought it would be a fairly simple type of programming, but I am left thinking my model was assembled by drunken, traumatized, retarded ferrets. It is prone to sudden changes in rules without notification, lack of observation and follow-through, (alleged) memory failure (maybe I’m anthropomorphizing here, but I question whether there is an actual data storage failure at work…), reneging on agreements, etc.. Let me put it another way… ever seen a fish fall off a hook and land on the dock or beach or whatever? You know what they do, right? Yeah… flop flop flop flop flop. (…) Welcome to my life. There had better be a hidden reset switch or something to fix this, or you’re getting him back in about 12 small boxes.
While there are myriad other issues, or varying importance/snarl induction, I will end with this final deal-breaker… the hair-trigger temper. It gets a bug up its mechanical ass and, without any of its processors kicking into moderate either its words or its actions, it goes OFF. This coincides with its logic capabilities going completely offline. It throws out arguments that defy all sense, it yells, stamps its feet, hurls insults, demeans, and degrades me (pretty sure I could have gotten all THAT behavior for free from an actual MAN)… I ASKED for both patience and logic, and the bonus option of the ability to control its responses to stimuli/stress, and what I got was an overgrown three-year-old set on causing as much hurt and damage as it can to its perceived ‘opponent’, with no regard to consequences (I refer you to the previously mentioned 12 SMALL boxes) or the negative impact on the person it is dealing with. In fact, at the risk of further anthropomorphizing, I’d almost swear the beastly thing ENJOYS the resulting impact (injury, damage, hurt… I can give you more synonyms than you can shake a stick at if it helps get the point across) of its lack of control and abandonment of logic and consideration. I never really loved the movie Fargo, but that woodchipper scene? Yeah, it keeps popping into my head with a certain fondness of late…
In closing, I request either an expert come and do whatever overhaul is needed to repair these and other issues, or you send me a container fit to put this thing in to ship it back to you (though I’m still not opposed to those 12 SMALL BOXES… just so you know) and get me my refund. I know your company hit hard times after all those Wile E. Coyote scandals, and I had hoped that with the settlement behind you, your focus would be laser-pointed to producing better products and providing excellent customer service. The former is obviously in serious question right now (though at least somewhat understandable if it was, in fact, a freak case of mislabeling and I was accidentally shipped the DomlyDom200), but I will retain faith in the latter just as soon as a technician shows up or I get a credit back in my checking account.
2 years ago. Wednesday, September 13, 2023 at 10:56 PM
Someone asked me to describe love, and all I could think about was the way his lips curled into a smile when I said something childish. She asked me to tell her what love felt like, and all I could think about was his arms around me, holding me tight, making sure I didn’t fall apart. She asked me what being in love was like, and all I could think about was sitting in the car listening to him sing, and coming to the conclusion that I wanted to hear his voice for the rest of my life. She asked me what love was, and I told her that it was the way your heart yearns for a person, the way your body jumps at the mere thought of the person, the way your eyes shine as you see the person walking toward you. I told her that love is the most addictive drug there is, but that the high is worth it.
I like to be penetrated long before any physical contact takes place. In fact, I need to be. Witty banter, teasing, verbal double entendres—all foreplay for me. The art of great foreplay is a hint of what’s to come, without spilling everything. It’s the desire mixed with the uncertainty of whether it will really happen or how. Who will bring the other person to wetness or hardness first? Who will be so overcome with desire that they tackle the other person when they get in the door? In Tantra, we talk a lot about expanding the moment of orgasm. Instead of orgasm being a few moments of intense, pelvic contractions, we aim for orgasms that last for hours. The feelings of bliss, the pulsing and throbbing, the hunger you feel, can go on for hours and days. In fact, it never really has to stop. Think of foreplay, between-play, and simmer in the same way: they ought to go on for a long, long time. They never really have to stop, either. You want to keep the sexual energy flowing between you all of the time. That doesn’t mean you have to have sex every time you rev your engines. The whole point is to rev your engines and keep them hot. Or at least warm. You ought to have some kind of flirty, sexy touch and innuendo going on every day. The sex before the sex.~
“Let’s face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig. And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it? If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a and at a recital? Ship truck and send cargo ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites? You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form filling it out and in which an alarm goes off going on. English was invented people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.”
People say it's just sex, but who the fuck wants just sex. I want all the before. All the words. The unraveling of my desires, meticulously noted. Strummed through with care. I want the gentleman and the gentleness. I want the secrets and the little I thought of you. I want someone to break me down slowly. Break me apart from the inside out. Starting with my mind and heart and when they finally get to my body, they know what to do with it. They aren't a stranger. They aren't foreign. I'm familiar and soft and wild in their hands. There's nothing taboo between us because everything about us has been spilled. Shared. They can read my eyes and hear my moans and my whimpers and know the words they equate to. They've memorized me. They've craved me. They've wanted and waited. When we finally strip down behind closed doors, it's way more than just sex. It's salvation.
Whenever you should doubt your self-worth, remember the lotus flower. Even though it plunges to life from beneath the mud, it does not allow the dirt that surrounds it to affect its growth or beauty
I stood in the bedroom, naked, in soft light spilling in from the surrounding rooms. I was a little tense, for a variety of reasons, most having nothing to do with where I was or what was about to take place. Part of me was that excited kind of nervous, the one that makes your stomach knot and all your hidden parts tingle. I was about to do things I’d never done before. Simple things, really… small to many people who lived this life more than I had been able to, but big to me. I had been in and out of D/s for over five years but had very little real-time experience to show for it. The things I hungered to try weren’t the usual exotic kinky fantasy things I’d read about in stories and forum discussions… they were tame next to whips and dilating devices and things that required an electrical outlet. I craved… kneeling. Not just kneeling, but kneeling in a way specified by my partner. I craved the feeling of a collar around my neck. Not just wearing one, but having it put on with focus and meaning and structure. I craved a leash. Not just having it clipped on, but being led, drawn by it, by a hand that knew how and that I could trust. In the broadest sense of the word, you could say I simply craved… surrender.
So, there I stood, waiting. The person coming was not mine in the strictest sense of the word, but was a very dear friend and experienced Dominant. I knew he would never harm me, and that he understood me as few did. He knew what I needed, and I knew he was a safe and caring place to finally experience some of the things that had been gnawing at me for years.
As he entered the room, my eyes were on the floor. He told me to kneel, his voice low. Gracefully, as I’d learned, I lowered smoothly to my knees, keeping my eyes down. Already I could feel the tension from other things in my day just fading like background noise. He stepped toward me, walked back and forth, checking my position, then stroked my head briefly. I knew he had found no fault with either how I lowered my body or held my posture, and knowing he was pleased… Jesus, I had no idea how proud I would feel. I almost cried though he couldn’t see it. Remembering has me a bit teary now, in all truth. It was so SMALL, this moment, from the outside, but to me? It was… blinding. Absolutely blinding. He lowered a bit to be close to my head, speaking private things in my ear as he put the collar around my neck. I answered him in a whisper… all I could manage. He finished latching the collar and everything in me… stilled. My head, my heart… all the questioning, defending, hurting, needing…. all of it that went on in both places, just… left. I finally felt at peace. I knew even more than I had before, that pleasing him was my only need left at that time.
He walked up for a moment, standing next to me, stroking my hair, and I leaned my cheek into his leg, just a bit. This, this feeling, this powerful thing… this was what I was meant to live. I couldn’t stop the few tears that escaped…
“She’s the kind of girl That misbehaves… And she knows it. Struggles with it. Bathes and even taunts you with it. But she’s strong and independent. And sharp-witted along with it. But don’t think for a minute that she doesn’t want to be taken, possessed, and, put in her place. To be backed up against that wall. Choked and kissed above all. Pinned by your ard/or squealing her thrill. Submitting and bending to your will. She will fuss and fight, on dark days with all her might. But she just wants your overpowering affection. So fist her hair and spank her right. Discipline her late into the night. Her longing to be obedient isn’t just a want… She longs to be put in her place after a taunt. A bondage bunny that you flaunt. Deserving those spanks on her greedy lil cunt. A complex girl of contradiction isn’t for the faint of heart. She needs a man of conviction, one that can appreciate every paradoxical part. So deliver her into loving subjugation, even though it's no walk in the park”
