Most the time, my morning is like, Lets get this shit going.
Then there's days like today:
Oh yeah, that's the shit!
What's your morning look like?
G'morning y'all!
Max
Today I want to pick some grey matter from the skullcaps of others.
In most things of life there is a Moral and/or ethic that determines how people think, respond or address situations in life.
What is your thoughts on contracts and/or relationships? As a jump point I'll give a few scenarios but the conversation isn't exclusive to them.
I know my Morals are far lower than my ethics and in my particular situation my vampyric needs sometimes brings my ethics into question, so where is that line.?
Scenario:
1). You are in a contract with someone for play only and that is how the contract reads. While it is not written "toys" only due to feeding the particular kinks, one of the party starts to catch feelings for their contractual partner. Is it ok to continue so long as action to fulfill those emotions are kept in check or should they bring an end to the partnership and contract, being upfront and honest with their partner?
2) While in a monogamous relationship, one goes out with friends. While intoxicated they end up going to the point of touching and oral sex. Are they liable for their actions and is that considered a betrayal of the relationship? Whether they ever tell their partner or not, is it ethically acceptable in your opinion?
3) You're in a poly contract relationship and one starts having unknown, random partners that is against the current conditions on the portion of A) unknown to the group
B) untested for sexually transmitted diseases
They apologize and swear it was all protected sex and they wouldn't do so again, then point out something obscure in the contract that doesn't line up with the context as their justification.
Is it acceptable? Was the contact even valid? Should they be released or forgiven, in your opinion.
4) Your partner declares in an argument that "they hate you, they are done!" And storm off. They are silent for the next three days and unresponsive to any outreach attempts. By chance you meet someone who shows interest in you and y'all decide to meet up for coffee later. The coffee meet up goes way better than you ever thought it would and they lean in for a kiss...
Are you free to kiss them? Are you ethically responsible to validate the "break up" first?
4 pt 2) You accept the kiss and when you get home, the partner who stormed off is there, apologetic and horny as a nympho in a gangbang.
Do ya tap that and keep the kiss hidden?
Tell them about the situation?
Was the relationship terminated by the possibly flippant words and actions?
End
Remember to be respectful to another's viewpoint and opinions.
1) My personal ethics is a contract is a contract. Infraction in the smallest is no different than infractions in the greatest. My justification is: why have a contract at all if you don't find it as a document of authority. Picking what is optional to be followed voids the purpose of a contract. So I end the scenes until we can have an open conversation.
2) Everyone is responsible for their own actions or inactions. Alcohol and narcotics are a choice so a persons words or deeds are the same as sober and in a clear mind. Apologies help the emotional side, but rarely erase the words or deeds.
3) Not only is it a termination of further continuance but EVERYONE is going for a health screen! To me, if a person is unclear in the terms and wording of a contract, it's on them to request clarification and do their research before agreeing to the terms. It nullifies the objection of fake misunderstanding and removes further argument.
4) If I truly mean anything to my partner, flippant words of abandoning the relationship is an end of the relationship. Whether we make up later does not matter for the time between. In this particular situation I would kiss the person and as there isn't mention of a relationship, I don't have an issue with smashing the former partner. However that doesn't mean I'd be willing to return to it either. If I meant as much as they are declaring, when did it change? Is my emotional and mental well-being to be subject to one who have proven they won't protect what I've placed in their hands?
You can respond to all or one and feel free to present ONE your own if you like, just please be brief and concise.
Thanks!
Max
Psychologist will say it's a learned response where your mind learns to adapt by finding pleasure in that which torments you. I do not disagree, however I also think that some of us were simply born with it. One of my earliest memories was early teen years when I had a cavity in the center of a molar. My family couldn't afford going to the dentist/doctors and the last thing you ever wanted to do was something stupid wherein you probably should go to the ER/professionals, but telling your parents how you earned this damage was far more terrifying then "sucking it up and dealing with it." I'd bit into a nutshell trying to crack it with my teeth because... well, young and stupid or impatient? Anyways, that cavity caved under the pressure and the next couple days found my gums starting to swell so instead of saying anything I grabbed a few toothpicks. Methodically, I began to slowly screw the wooden point into the outer edges to release the blood and puss, which of course just make it throb like a jackhammer in my jaw but at the same time... it felt soooo good, to have that pressure release. Should I have told my parents and would they have taken me to the dentist and figured out how to pay for it later, well yes. I have great parents despite the issues we had back then buuuuuuut... I had it in my mind that if there is pain coming from the hole then the issue wasn't the outer edge. I knew nothing of nerve endings, or the physiology of the human body but I did know that my dad would be upset, mom would worry and make it into a bigger deal than what I felt it was so I took a tentative poke with a wooden toothpick.
Lightening shot through me, catching me completely off guard. I knew it would hurt but FUUUUK!! After the mind stopped buzzing and I blinked the swirling room and stars out of my eyes, I found I had a hard-on that was pulsating. Ever the curious son of a bitch, I took that as a sign that I did something right and immediately jammed that wooden shaft into lil mother fuker, and fought the reflex urges to stop by attacking it like a Spartan on the battlefield! By the time the red haze left my sight, my mouth was drooling blood, the throb was now dull and the endorphins made my whole body feel like I'd had a full body deep tissue massage. Of course I was I curious and reached down to stroke my cock, just to find that I'd already released against the cabinet and created a pool on the bathroom floor. I remember just basking in that moment before thinking, HYGIEN! If mom saw all this blood and cum, there would be way too many questions in a hysterical fit so I grabbed up the Listerine and... what... you flinched, didn't you? 😂 Yup, took a swig, swished it around and spit. The burn... ooomfg... jaw slack, drooling heavy into the sink, toes curled and grinding against the air with this irrational need to do it again. So I did... several times till the jaw felt numb, my mind and body were exhausted and I used saltwater to help stem the bleeding. It was at this point, I realized I am a little fucked up. Mommies lil angle was quickly becoming the demon that my dad declared I was.
Over the years, I've endured pain to the point that it became my mantra: Pain is Life... If you feel pain, it means you're alive. If you're alive, there's hope for something better and that hope is worth the pain.
Fast-forward to tonight... I've gotten to a mental point of being tired of constant pain. Things I couldn't control wherein I just man up and take it. Trudge through that shit, shoulder back, head up, forcing each step unwilling to yield to self doubt that this may be my breaking point. I started doing something about it and for a few years, I've been living pain free until my most recent knee injury. However, some things never change... I was re-lighting my cigar while gaming and not really paying attention to the loose fray that I'd lit. I didn't notice as it drifted off the end of the cigar and dropped down my naked body, missing my furry belly to land on the shaft of my cock. I think I actually moaned out loud, my eyes rolled back as my breath hitched. I didn't even attempt to brush it off, as I just sat there letting the burn run fire through my senses. It's confirmed, I'm still a Masochist 😂🤤
With that said, I leave you with one more of my favorite songs from the same band: In This Moment.
What's your story?
Max.
Weekend challenge is for you Men who love your Kilts!
Bring'm out, put'm on and take pride in showing off!
And the rule is: FROM ANY CAMERA ANGLE!
Don't scroll 👇
You don't want to see this, turn back now
Last warning ⚠️ ⚠️
Once you stop laughing and clean up the drink you spewed, enjoy leaving comments!
Max
I know it's been awhile since I've made a blog but life has pretty much come to a stand still and lets face it... I just don't like Blogging a lot, I'm a non-attention seeking, attention whore. If you know, you know. If you don't, you're scratching your head wondering what that looks like. Anyways, back toward the end of January of this year, I injured myself at work chasing a mental client through a field of ice and snow. They turned and went that way, I turned and my footing "boggled", my knee went the other way and I heard a "POP!". Immediately I thought, oh fuck, this is going to hurt in the morning... I... was wrong. I ended up having to force my next few steps and thankfully some others were there with me who were able to take care of the client and return them safely back to where they belong. I however, had a 10 minute walk of 15 yards to get back to our Security Center where I'm stationed... for those who don't know me, I'm a Security Supervisor for a mental facility. Needless to say, every step was intentional, shallow, wobbly and painful. Yes I should have hollard for help, one or two of my officers would have come to assist me but psh... I got this shit... It's just pain... mmmmhm.... gawdamn was that a long ass walk as I sucked it up like a man, and bore it. Once I got back and sat down, I could feel the swelling and grabbed an Ice pack that we keep on hand for similar occasions. That did nothing more than make my knee cold. Filed reports, filled out appropriate Workers comp documents and drove myself to the ER, where they took X-Rays and said, I need to see and orthopedic surgeon and get an MRI done. Oh the joy... they put me in a knee immobilizer, gave me crutches and said, have a good day. Fast forward to actual diagnosis after MRI: jagged meniscus tear in the white zone (I can't remember the doctors terminology) but simply stated, there are two zones in your meniscus. Red zone, where the blood can get to the meniscus and it stands a chance of healing over time, and the white zone where no blood gets to the meniscus and even with surgery it won't heal. They just remove the "crab meat", as the doc put it so I could understand, to make the area smooth, thus relieving the pain that I was in. Ooookay then... I'm on board, lets do this! Workers comp moves at it's own pace so over a MONTH later (nearly 6 weeks) they fit me in for surgery. Everything goes well, same day surgery and I remember nothing... like.. I know at some point I woke up and Bunny drove me home. but between the anesthesia and the Oxcod/blah blah blah... I remember noda!
"Rest, ice, and no load bearing" for the first few days, then try to walk with crutches more often then just to go to the restroom... by day 4 I was off the pain meds by self choice and decently getting around the house with the support of my crutches. In my head I'm like.. psh... I got this shit. It's just pain and I eat that like fucking tic tacs! Bring it on bitch. Day 7 I go in for my first after surgery consultation and I'm feeling pretty fucking good with myself. I can't hardly bend my leg much more than maybe 10-15 degrees but I can support my weight with the help of the crutches. Ezy pezy. Walked into the Doc office feeling pretty damn proud of myself, however reality is more sadistic than I am... that five yards from my bedroom to the car, another five from the car to the Dr Office, another five to ten from the lobby to the room, and all that back.
HOLY FUCK!
I was wearing that same face I did when the injury first occurred... Man up mother fucker, eat that shit, hide the pain and don't be a burden on anybody, face... You Subs out there with a "manly man" Dom.. you know the face. Strained relaxed where the pose don't meet what the eyes are saying. Conversations are short, direct and you get more "looks" than you do answers. Lots of ice, some Tylenol, Bunny knows me well enough that she just grabbed something simple to eat and brought me my coffee. She accepted what I was giving and helped me get into bed. My ass was thoroughly wiped (exhaustion, ya damn perverts! lol) It's fucking embarrassing to realize your limit is twenty fucking yards and that may have done more than what you should have. Keep in mind, my ego has had some serious hits... I end up having to call my son to come over just to take the damn trash to the curb but oh no.. not every time. Hell no. First several weeks, sure.. I was just injured, awaiting surgery, just had surgery, this was justifiable need of assistance but I just got my ass handed to me by going to the dr office.
Week 7: I'm gonna take this damn bin to the curb, with the recyclables, one fucking step at a gawd damn time! I got this shit. "You never coulda, woulds, if you don't ever try."... you're playing too damn safe. Be cautious, take your time... so picture this:
A man in a long black Celtic robe, hood pulled up, wearing sandals in 35F weather (I think that's 1.6C), using crutches in the now melted off snow of my driveway... step, pull, stop, step pull, stop, take a breather, repeat, repeat, repeat for the almost 10 yards from where I keep the bins to the curb. Fuck yes! I got that shit on lock down *FLEX* and I'm pretty damn proud of myself once again. It sucked having to do it like that but I've regained a little independence, and the cost of that venture... another day and a half of not being able to do shit because my stubborn ass NEEDED that win. At this point I'm tired of my knee hurting to the slightest bending and the best I can get is maybe 20 degrees so I start doing the light leg muscle workout that the doc said was safe, lean against the wall stuff for upper body and gently forcing my knee to bend. Yes it was uncomfortable and it hurt a bit but within three to four days I had achieved an almost sitting down, 60 degrees. This helped tremendously. It gave me some of my gate back in my walk, boosted my confidence on what my knee could handle while waiting for WC to approve therapy. So here we are... nearly two months after the injury and I finally get to therapy and you know I'm walking into that place like "I got this shit." I know it's suppose to hurt the first day so I'm mentally prepared and the Doc had warned me to take one of my oxy's with me just in case... pop it soon as I get home but Noooooo.. I'm a fuck'n man! I don't need that shit.
OMFG!
I
WAS
RIGHT!
Fuck yeah!... buuut for all the wrong reasons. My student assistant therapist is a wonderful lady, who didn't push me at all... like.. I do more to exercise my injured knee/leg area than what we did in that session. I was pleasantly disappointed and a little annoyed because I prepared for nothing. However she did give me better education on what to do correctly and told me to get off both crutches and down to one and showed me the proper procedure.
YUP! Damn straight baby. I'm fucking Pimp walking with a crutch. 🤣
so now in my head I feel like:
but in reality, I'm probably more like:
I don't give a shit. I'm doing well, the therapist says I'm doing better than she expected on day 2 of treatment and the bend I started with was 70 degrees without help, 100 with her help on day one. Today I pimp walked my ass out with 107 degrees without help and 110 with her help. So what if I live in some manly man delusion of what I think I can do because in reality.. I'll fuck'n get there. 😉😎 (or hurt myself trying 😂). If you're going through something similar, you got this shit boo/bro. If you've been there, feel free to share.
Max.
For those out there doing self improvement,whether it's your character, mental well-being, or dropping some weight.
Listen to it, sing it, believe it and keep up the damn good work!
I'm fuck'n proud of ya!
Max
There are things I'm willing to do though I'm not a fan of it... Glamping, camping, being away from my technology. I bought a house so I didn't have to live in the woods or shelter in a cave but AngelBunny wanted to go camping. We made an agreement to glamp instead... Rustic cabin in the mountains of Tennessee along one of the many rivers.
We took a hike along a creek, up into the mountains and it was quite lovely.
Crossed a bridge of questionable soundness but we enjoyed ourselves.
Though I find some mountains are more beautiful than others...
Mmmmm, momma. MILK!
Earlier this week I spent somewhere around 9hr writing up an intellectual blog about what it's like to be a Sadist. Gave some insight on how I think and what I feel is why I think that way.
Then I remembered, I'm a Sadist, and deleted that bitch in .02 seconds.
That's what it's like. Take it as you will.
Max
Stupid songs that pop up on your player while you're trying to have a serious conversation....
Makes your toes tap and "feel" shit...
Perhaps not all bad but guu!
Walking down the street, gaming on my phone with my earless headphones on, at two o'clock at night. The streetlights of the moderate size town wherein i find myself are decorated for Halloween; its perfect weather for me... The smell of oaky earth tones mixed in the cool crisp air of the night and I see the moment from the corner of my eye. I've heard the light scuff of a shoe, the accidentally kick of a pebble and the wind was at my back, driving their scent to me. Homeless most likely, but does it really matter? I can feel thier intention and I haven't killed a monster in my game for at least five minutes now... Not that they would know that I stopped my music and have been faking my game play since they fell in behind me. Could I be wrong, sure. Perhaps I'm imagining something in my mind, like the knife they keep hidden behind their left leg or the slow increase of speed as they try to soft shoe closer. Maybe they are just light on their feet and just so happen to be traveling my way.
"Excuse me, sir... Do you have a light?" I hear the man say as I continue on as though I don't know he's there.
"Sir" He says a bit louder, quickly closing the gap as I step into the dimmer section of the sidewalk, shadowed by the hay bails and Halloween display.
"Excuse Me, Sir!" he says louder. His hand taps down on the shoulder of my phone arm and no sooner touches me then I spin, taking my phone up over his arm and around to lock his elbow in an armbar. My free hand strikes out as he goes to his tiptoes from my lift of the armbar, the knife revealed but useless in the moment. The hollow between finger and thumb lands solid in the throat punch, causing him to drop his knife as he grabs for his throat. Quickly stepping in and landing my foot behind his leg, I rip him off balance, dropping him to the side walk like a sack of potatoes. He tries his damnedest to shuffle back away from me as his eyes balk in panic, his coughing frenzies as he searches for words. My fangs slide forth and my eyes go black while I slip my phone into my back pocket...
In the blink of the eye, I suddenly appear crouched next to him. "Sorry..." I whisper in a smooth cold tone, just loud enough for him to hear before I grasp his throat and squeeze.
"I don't have a light." I say as my black soulless eyes meet his. Without warning I bash his skull to the concrete. His body goes limp to the satisfying sound of a ripe melon popping and I immediately look around for any possible witnesses. Nobody is out this time of morning so I pull the bails away and stuffing his body between. I'm sure he'll be found when his body starts to decay, but people will most likely figure he hurt himself in a drunken stupor and crawled between the bails himself. After placing the bails back, I grind some straw between my hands and drop the remains on the small blood spot before grinding them into the pavement. It's supposed to rain around sunrise but why leave things to chance? Satisfied, I pull out my phone as my eyes return to normal and my fangs slide back into place. [Such a waist] I thought as I continued on with my walk and gaming. [I wonder how many times he thought himself a victim of society, while stealing from others, only to wind up as Halloween decor...] I turn my music back on and grin as Skrillex begins... "I...want to kill... Everybody in the world..." [Karmas a bitch] I think to myself... [Or just a figment of the imagination.] The Beast within replies. I shrug and continue on my way.
Upon returning home, I hear the voice of my drunken partner. "Where the fuck have you been?". Ahh another night of stupidity.
" I told you before I left, I went downtown to play my game." I know that arguing with a drunk makes about as much sense as pushing a car with the parking brake on, but such is my life.
"Like fuck you did!" The bottle whizzes by my ear as I dodge it, plucking it from the air before it can shatter against the door. Smoothly setting it on the door side desk, I move towards her. I can hear her blood pumping, her heart quick in her anger. "Who the fuck is the god damn whore?!"
She turns her back to me as she grabs hold of a flower vase filled with a bouquet arrangement that I'd bought her but a day ago. My hand wraps around her wrist as my free hand wraps around her waist.
"You know the only whore in my life, is you, Scoshi Oni." I reply as I growl with pleasure, roughly pull her plump ass back against my pelvis.
"I thought we agreed..." I said as I loose her fingers from the vase and kiss her along the exposed side of the neck. Her thick red hair, long as my arms, smelled of bath and body and her skin taste like candy causing an unexpected arousal.
"No more Vodka in the house." The hand trapping her against me traveled down to the waist band of her long flowing skirt before the fingers slipped beneath. Her pelvis was smooth and warm, her slick announcing her weakness to my growling was still alive and well.
She grabs my arm in a mock effort to stop my fingers before they reach her little flesh button. "I know...." Her breath hitches as my fangs slide forward and graze her throat while my tongue lightly flicks over the warm skin, picking off small droplets of perspiration that has suddenly sprung up.
"You're fu..." Her words melt to a moan as my fingers find her clit and begins to tease the small nub.
"Fucking you..." I finish the statement as I growl into the hollow between throat and shoulder. My hand leaves her wrist as she grabs the edge of the small desk only big enough to hold the vase and a small picture frame. My nails dig into her hips, dulled by the fabric but getting the response I wanted as my fingers begin a circling motion around her clit. I thrust against her ass, making her gasp and moan in her inebriated haze. Again she mocks a resistance as she tries to shrug me off, falling face first against the wall in a poor effort to walk away. My fingers speed their rhythm as I push her against the wall and undo my pants, letting them drop to the floor.
"I hate you..." She whispers as she helps me draw up her long dress to expose her plump white ass. My cock slides between her ass cheeks where I slowly hump and grind, while my fingers keep driving her onward. She pooches her ass and spreads herself just as my cock slides up over her star.
"I know." I say evenly as I slowly coax my tip inside her dry, puckered rim. My sadist nature boils with desire as I hear her muffle a whimper. She's a masochistic anal whore, and while I hate it when she's drunk, she doesn't have limitations or reservations when she's intoxicated.
"I wish you would die..." She barley manages to say before I thrust my cock in to make her squeal in pain. She can't help herself as she grinds against me so hard I have to grab both hips and let her have a moment of lead.
"Someday, my Scoshi Oni..." I quickly piston thrust a few times, as she whimpers and takes up the slow circular grind of my cock buried deep inside her.
"I might let you." Mercilessly I slam her against the wall and thrust with an overwhelming need to dump inside her. Her shriek becomes gasp and moans as she finds my rhythm and meets it with just as much need. Again and again we repeat the scene of mock resistance, moving nowhere until I feel her clinching and watch as her hands claw at the wall, her mind overwhelmed by the pleasure pain.
"I'll ki.. y.." Her words elude her in hitched gasp before I grap her long hair and snap her head back, bowing her body till her shoulder met my mouth.
"Not tonight." I hiss before slamming my fangs into her shoulder. Fluids splash the floor as she cum squirts from the bite. Her hand grabs the back of my head to hold me in place while she pants like one drowning in their lust. My release of seed was secondary to the bliss splashing down my throat and the release of my bite was just as quick as the beginning. For a long moment we stood there, her hands moving to my hips so I wouldn't pull out while we gasped for breath, our bodies trembled lightly.
"Not tonight..." She whispered as I lay my head to her shoulder, smelling the mix of bodily fluids, blood and sweat. The sound of a soft and quickly stifled cry made me smile cruelly as my fingers found the leaking of my seed and began to probe.
"Do I need to fist your guts, Scoshi?" I ask as I stand upright and pull upwards with my finger till she danced on tiptoes. There was no audible consent required... I already knew she hated herself and craved to be buried in her shame. A quick nod of agreement barely managed itself from her whirling consciousness as I take a fist full of hair and thrust her to the ground before making her crawl towards the bed. "So be it, whore."
....end...
I hope you cringed or enjoyed the story... However it was created to remind people that the difference between victim and consent as an adult, is what you permit to happen. Sometimes you have the blessings of a CNC or Consensual contract, sometimes it's out of your control. If there is a secession of events out of your control but you stay because of hope and words... You are not a victim. Cry all you like but you chose your tormenter. Own it. End the victimizing of consent. 😘
Max
