wis·en·heim·er
ˈwīzənˌhīmər/Submit
nounUSinformal
a person who behaves in an irritatingly smug or arrogant fashion, typically by making clever remarks and displaying their knowledge.
Master said to me this morning, dont be a wisenheimer, little one. After I made a very smug but clever remark about a job that we were doing together!
I think being a wisenheimer could be fun in a sort of masochistic way, lol!
judg·ment
noun
noun: judgement
1. the ability to make considered decisions or come to sensible conclusions
We should be rigorous in judging ourselves and gracious in judging others.
John Wesley
Sometimes I worry and wonder why,
That others can not see,
The beauty in those in the world,
that are not at all like me.
I am me that's plain to see,
And you are you that's true.
But I will always extent my hand and try to see your view, if you will also be as kind and give the same from you.
This 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with her hair fashionably coiffed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home yesterday. Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary.
After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, she was provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window. “I love it,” she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.
“Mrs. Jones, you haven’t seen the room …. just wait.”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she replied. “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the furniture is arranged, it’s how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it. It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice;
I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I’ll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I’ve stored away, just for this time in my life.”
She went on to explain, “Old age is like a bank account, you withdraw from what you’ve put in. So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank. I am still depositing.”
And with a smile, she said: “Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less, & enjoy every moment.
Most of the time, I am just invisible.
Until his eyes stripped me of my honesty.
Honestly,
with one look, he saw things in me, I never knew existed.
Fantasy,
twisted, I read pleasures from passages of ecstasy,
that still haunt me intensely, immensely and pleasurably.
His want for me was a force of nature; that captivated me
and still holds my soul captive, as it sets me free.
Mystique meets her Majesty
Love is pain and pain is love,
as soon as I felt his pain,
I fell in love; uncontrollably.
This is me when I was four, sitting in Sunday school learning to sing Jesus Loves Me!
Then when I was at home my daddy would play David Brubeck, Herb Albert and so many more.
Music was a very big part of my early life!
I was reminded of the fun music has brought me everyday when I was in the chat room and everyone was sharing the music they like.
Thanks everyone!
I love to play games, board games, group games, tag, hide and seek.
Games make me feel good and feeling good makes me happy.
Do you like to play games?
What's your favorite game to play?
A loud crash of thunder startled me and I woke scared. I looked around the room and could see many shadowed figures surrounding me. The room was dark except for one candle burning on the shelf behind me. The light did nothing to really illuminate the room and I could see the reflection of the flame behind the ghostly figures. The forms were both men and women, all were dressed in fetish garb. Leather, chains, garters, penis cages, nipples clamped, much like you might see at a fetish dungeon play party.
What is going on I wondered. I don't believe in ghosts, I don't believe in ghost, I keep saying it over and over again.
I try and speak but nothing comes out when I open my mouth. I must be going crazy I think. My body betrays my mind and I tingle with excitement.
I am gathered in the arms of the head Master, he lifted me to my feet. Still I try and call out but no sounds come out. My arms are held above my head, my feet are spread apart.
The head Master says to his people, she is a non believer, we must teach her that we exist! Show this slut that even after death there is our kind of play.
Well I will let you use your imagination as to how this slut was used, but in my fantasy Master comes home to find me bound and suspended. He of course will never pass up the opportunity to have his way with his slave and he asks how I became bound. I tell him the tale and that now I believe in ghosts!
My Master loves to watch shows about the paranormal. Haunted houses, possessions, paranormal experiences.
I am not a believer and we have heated discussions on the subject.
But then during a time of orgasm denial my imagination began to explore the idea of this fantasy.
We had just moved into a new house, it was vacant before Mastsr bought it and had just been renovate. I was having great fun buying new furniture and decorating, the house is small but perfect for just the two of us.
The first time I walked in I felt a tingle and my skin prickled with goose bumps . This house was charged with energy but I could not tell if it was positive or negitive.
The first night we were exhusted from the move and fell asleep with just a hug and kiss. As soon as I feel asleep I started to dream. My hands were bound together and tied to the headboard. I was confused because in my dream I was alone, Master was no where to be seen and this confused me because I could not remember him binding my hands. I was getting excited, I could feel someone touching my face, I felt warm breath on my skin. I woke with a start and turned to find Master fast asleep. It was just a dream I told myself.
I tossed and turned but could not fall back to sleep so I went to the living room laid down on the couch and closed my eyes, as soon as I was resting I felt hands all over my body, not just a pair of hands but many hands. Hands were holding my arms so I could not pull away, hands were holding my legs. I could not get up to find Master. A hand was over my mouth so I could not call for help. A hand was over my eyes so I could not see.
I struggled in earnest doing my best to fight off my assailants, what was happening, who was holding me down, what was going to happen. Again I felt lips by my ear, I could feel warm breath and then I heard a whisper. We will have you, we will use you, you will submit to us. I shook my head no and tried to scream, I thrashed about frantically trying to escape the hold they had on me.
Suddenly I was released. Master was holding me in his arms, I was drenched with sweat. I opened my eyes and could only see him, I asked him why he had been holding me down, I ask where all the other people where that were restraining me.
He looked confused and said that I most have been dreaming. We were alone, no one was there.
I held him tight and told him what had happened, he just laughed at me and saud I was the only one he knew that would dream of such things. But I know it wasn't a dream, it was real!
We went about our days for the next few weeks and I did not have this experience again until Master went out of town on business. I was not afraid as Master travels from time to time and I am left alone but I still had the dream in the back of my mind.
The first night I slept with all of the lights on. Nothing happened, I was so relieved and stopped worrying.
I was watching tv on the couch when a very bad thunderstorm blew in. The electric went out and all I had were candles and a flashlight. I love storms and all of the energy they unleash. I must have fallen a sleep!
To be continued!
Physical contact distinguishes humans from other animals. From a warm handshake or sympathetic hug to a congratulatory pat on the back, we have developed complex languages, cultures, and emotional expression through physical contact.
Touch: to strike or push lightly especially with the hand or foot or an implement
When you touch me with your words,
My imagination is ignited.
When you touch me with your whip,
I feel the pain and your excitement.
When you touch me with your hands,
My skin feels electrified.
When you touch me with your eyes,
I see that I am yours.
Physical touch is the foundational element of human development and culture. The growing preoccupation with digital media versus personal physical contact, combined with the social and legal restrictions over physical contact in our schools and workplaces, may unintentionally affect these factors negatively. To foster a safe social environment in a climate of mediated communication, we should intentionally hold on to physical touch.