Scorpio

If you are a careful reader of my blog, you already know that whenever I am at home and we have no guests, I am in my natural state, or as MW and I have been referring to it lately, “being in uniform”. As pleasant as I find this state, it has some negative consequences. In the winter I practically have to carry a portable heater with me to stay relatively comfortable. During the last few days our resident mosquito has savaged my body twice a day with several stings; each of which persist for an hour or so.

Being ”in uniform”, which is my natural state, also means being barefooted. I walked into the bathroom at around 7PM last night to take a shower. It was dark, and I was about to turn on the light when I felt a hot pin penetrating the side of my right foot. I believe, I said, “Oh shit!” or something similarly unoriginal but descriptive of my assessment of the situation. I was carrying my shower shoes, so as soon as the light was on, I zeroed in on a two-inch scorpion and reacted as any red-blooded male would. In a second it was dead by purposeful execution. You may call it retaliation. It probably does not qualify as self-defense on my part since I was already dead – so to speak.

MW heard my exclamation and came to investigate the reason behind my usage of foul language. After seeing the critter, she saw nothing wrong with my choice of words. She applied her home remedy to the area affected by the sting. I commented, “Unless one is allergic to scorpion sting, it does not seem bad,” The sting was no worse than one of the many bee stings that I have endured over the years while pruning flowering bushes and trees.

In a while the side of my foot, the point of the sting, began to tingle in addition to the burning sensation. Within an hour the foot developed a throbbing with spreading numbness. MW looked up scorpion sting on the Internet, and to our amazement she had found many similar symptoms describing my condition. The suggestions to remedy the situation ranged from the application of an ice pack to a visit to a hospital’s emergency room. I am no pussy, so naturally I did none of those. I decided to work out the venom. The plan was to pump iron in my exercise room in order to jack up the speed of metabolizing the substance. After MW threatened to shoot my other foot, I decided that my idea might not be very good under the circumstances.

An hour and a half after ground zero, while chewing an apple, my throat began to feel constricted. The tingly-numbness had traveled up my right leg by this time. In any other respect I felt all right, so when the time arrived for my usual nocturnal pass-out MW left the room to watch television, and I did what I find natural under the circumstances: pass out.

I woke at around 2AM, at that time seven hours past ground zero. The tingly-numbness had by that time invaded both of my arms and hands. Being otherwise unaffected by this poison I returned to sleep with some confidence that I could handle it. I slept longer than usual, for it was after 4AM when I woke again. MW also woke, and said, “You aren’t going to work out this morning, right?” With my numb lips and tongue I managed to voice some unintelligible words meaning, “Damn right”.

It has been ten hours since that nasty little bugger zapped me. I probably would not want to be participating in disarming an explosive device, but otherwise I seem to be all right. Sure, my chest muscles are numb, and my hands feel as if thousands of pins are pricking them gently as I type these words. My right leg thinks that I am wearing pants made of wire brush material. My throat is still under the impression that I had tried to swallow a two-inch metal ring, and I am breathing through it. My tongue is a bit thick and numb. Other than that, all is well.

Update

It has been fifteen hours since ground zero. The only discernible affect on me is the tingling right foot. Yes, the throat is still holding the metal ring, but I may be digesting it slowly. Knowing the cause it does not disturb me much. Otherwise I would be trying to make an appointment with my doctor, assuming that his office is taking calls on a Sunday. Such as it is, MW suggested that I don’t do anything that requires great divestiture of energy for the nonce. I am eager to comply. That means goofing off all day. I would not trust myself to drive a vehicle, use a gun, or, as I said, try to disarm a bomb.

What I have learned from this is, “Wear at least shower shoes when in the dark.” Of course, that would be no deterrent of rattle snakes, but then, most of them are outside of the house


Next Update

It has been 36 hours since ground zero. The side of my right foot still retains some numbness, but the other effects have diminished to where I am not sure that they are there.

I try to be positive about this experience. We have not used poison to try to kill critters that invade our home. One line line of thought is that they were here first. The other has to do with unexpected side effects: poison may kill your target, but it propagates up the food chain where you end up killing animals that are no threat to you. The most compelling reason for not using a wide spectrum poison is that we end up killing the least resistant. The ones that remain will become sturdy, and in a far stretch of imagination, intelligent. I have maintained a belief that cockroaches will inherit Earth. Of course, they will have to declare war on themselves in order to survive. Just like us.

By the way, I am human, not cockroach.


Update Again

It is now two and a half days since the scorpio incident. This morning I had another visitor. This little guy is maybe half an inch longer than the one that zapped me, around three inches all together. I wished to put a coin next to it for measure, but he/she was on a slippery slope and angry, so I did not want to mess with it.
It is now dead by execution.

Yet Another Update ...

It seems strange, but after four days my right foot still retains numbness. I think that some of the viscera was digested by the venom. I can walk on it, and use it as my other foot, yet when I touch it, there is a numbness under the skin. I don't think that anti-venom via the emergency room of a hospital would have made a difference. We go through life taking chances. This was one, and I was damaged. Maybe I will recover. Maybe I will live with it. I am more aware of looking for scorpions and rattle snakes.

What Would I Do?

I Am A Writer, Not A Viewer

The power of books, as opposed to movies is blatant. Whereas movies present it all without interpretation and with no room for imagination, books set you up to imagine the scenario and live it as you wish. You can put the book in you lap and think about what you would have done in the place of one of the characters. You learn things from books. You remember specific episodes as if you had been there. You change your life based on what you have seen and learned. You remember words, phrases, and statements. You remember the attitudes, the features, and the purpose of the characters. You become part of the story.

None of this is possible while watching a movie. The movie may be riveting, fascinating, memorable, but you cannot get involved in it to this extent. It moves too fast, and you can’t pause or you miss the next episode. It may give you nightmares, but in a few hours the effect is gone. Whereas, having read a book, its results remain with you, and steer you in way that you may not have imagined, but after having learned it you allow.

I have written many short stories that I submitted only to MW. As you can guess, they all are of the prurient nature. I have almost finished a book, which I am planning to submit for publication soon. One might say, "I am full of it."

I think that I have covered some of this earlier, but I can’t find it, so I will say what I want to say again. I am not homosexual. I am not even a closet homosexual. Now that I have gotten the compulsory disclaimer out of the way, I will get to the point.

What Am I?

I believe that few of us are exactly heterosexual with no give either way.

I believe that we all have some needs that are not completely satisfied with a completely heterosexual relationship.

We do rationalize a lot, and even condemn others, at least in our minds. Yet, when the lights are off, and we are in our private fantasy space, we do think of situations that are counter to our expected behavior. We don’t act on these thoughts, for they might be considered abominations by some, even by ourselves. Yet, there is the recurring, even compelling fantasy that haunts us, even gives us the need to release the pressure by whatever sexual outlet we have available to us. During the release we may think of the fantasy, and not necessarily of our partner who is providing the thrill for the moment.

I hope that I have not destroyed the illusion that only your partner can satisfy you. Yes she can, but there are other ways. your mind is one of them …

I see us as beings on a teeter-totter leaning this way and that to keep our minds focused on doing the right thing, but the point of balance for each of us is a matter of our being. Our fantasies can be theoretically limitless, but even in fantasy, we stay within our private limits. I know that even in my wildest fantasies there are things that I would not do, therefore, I don’t dwell on them. My fantasies go only as far as my limits would allow if I pushed hard. Once admitting that, I feel free to explore the region that I have defined. That is where the fun is. The variations and combinations are endless. All I need to do is to give it thought, and maybe put it into writing, and it becomes real. Well, maybe not permanently real, but at least while I am writing or reading it.

The point of this posting is a bit elusive. It has to do with “what would I do if my wife forced me”. Actually in my case it is easy. She is not into heavy kink, so I am really safe. But, if I were to sink into some fantasy …

As I have said, I can’t see a man and think, “I would love to give him a blow job.” I can’t even think of kissing him on his lips, or running my tongue along any part of him, as I would love to do with a woman. I would find it repulsive, offensive, and repugnant. Putting that aside, I can imagine that MW had set us up with a woman and man couple as playing partners. The man in the other couple is submissive. MW and the other woman want to have some fun at the men’s expense.

Not that I am suggesting, but what if MW decided that the man and I were to have some kind of sex? Holy cow! That would mean homosexual sex, no doubt about it. Here I am, not ever seeing a man whom I find attractive that way, but now having to deal with MW’s orders. Do I enter him from behind? Do I make myself be available to his cock in any way? Do we share intimate feeling, licking, sucking as I would with a woman? I don’t know. What I do know is that if I am forced to do this, I am absolutely obligated to follow. This is where fantasy meets reality. On the reality side, I do no such thing. On the fantasy side, I follow MW’s orders, whatever they may be. It is the same as my taking no responsibility, making no decision, because I was following my dominant wife’s orders.

Well, take that as you wish. This is no different from the response to the charges during the Nuremberg trials: “I was following orders.” What is different is that in my fantasy, all that took place within the limits I have set to myself. These limits are certainly different from what I would meet when I am in charge.

Don’t take this wrong. I have no objection to a so-called straight man blowing another man in some context. What I am saying here is that I would not do it as part of my plan. However, if it happens, so be it.

Still Another Approach To Chastity

I know what it means to be celibate. I spent three years in the U. S. Army away from home. Two years of it was in various places in the Orient, the rest moving around the country on assignments. None of that was conducive to finding a suitable female friend who would be willing to have sex with me. For months at a time I was in remote areas where I saw no females. On rare occasions when I was near some town, I did not want to go there and pay for sex. The consequence was, no sex. I was young. I knew that I had many years ahead of me during which I could regain some of that loss. It is different now.

A little over a year ago I posted Problems with Sex. MW had made a decision to have elective surgery that would enhance her physical well-being. She wanted to lose weight before going through with it. That would take some time. Then something happened that was not planned. The events drew her deeply into depression.

Many months went by until she came out of her depression. She is doing well now, but she still faces the desired weight loss and the surgery.

In over a year we have had oral sex twice by my pleasuring her, see Her Pleasure and After The Dust Settles, and one bout of penetrating sex (Just Love) but without consummation. We also achieved one male orgasm by her loving hand. No more than that. In the earlier months I had left hints, I talked of other ways to have sex, I assured her that I was there to do all that she needed. It changed nothing.

Perhaps as a substitute, she had provided sessions of cock and ball torture, tit torture, spanking and whipping, and on and off chastity control. If that is sex, then we have had it. As for orgasms, we have not, other than the three occasions I mentioned above.

MW and I are no longer in our early twenties. We have adult children who have children in turn. Consequently, what I miss now in sex is not something that can be made up later. I have fewer years to live, my sex drive may diminish, my ability at some point will be history. Missing a year or so of sex at this point is not something that I take lightly.

MW mentions occasionally that once she has the surgery, we will again … do something. That’s fine with me. But she was not all that charged with sex when we were doing it regularly. If she is thinking that we will pick up that same pace, I have already lost most of what I could have had.

I don’t understand why she has shut down this way. We could have daily sex in spite of not being able to have penetrating sex for now. I know what some of you think, “Talk to her. Communication is important.”

No, I cannot talk to her. It would arouse guilt in her, and that would do bad things to her, and in turn, to me. She knows that I am willing and able. She also knows all of my kinks, and how happy it would make me to do any and all. Yet she does nothing.

Only one thing is certain. Regardless of how good she can be after this surgery, we will never make up for what we have lost in the meantime. At this point I am not even sure that she will have the surgery, or if she does, she would resume any kind of sex with me afterward.

I may sound like an ingrate. I know that her situation is more dire than mine at this point. I don’t begrudge her holding back on some things. I would never do anything to hurt her. Still, as I said, time is ticking, and any opportunity not taken is wasted. It is something that will not come again.

Ruled By Idiocy

The USA is different from many countries in this sense, that we have what we call Federal Laws, State Laws, and in addition, Local Laws. Federal laws sometimes supersede state laws, and state laws supersede local laws in cases when they overlap. It is usually up to the prosecuting agency to sort out the charges, rather than slam the poor schmuck with layers of crime for the same deed.

I don’t have direct wording of “anti-profiling” laws. For one thing, they are defined by the locality, rather than being universal. For example, one organization (http://definitions.uslegal.com/) says,

“Profiling refers to the law enforcement practice of the detention, interdiction, or other disparate treatment of an individual on the basis of the racial or ethnic status of such individual. Many communities have adopted laws to deal with this illegal practice, and some make racial profiling training available to their law enforcement agencies.

Racial profiling laws are generally adopted voluntarily and vary by locality. For example, racial profiling laws may require law enforcement officers to report certain
information for analysis …”

I agree with the intent. The problem is, that the implementation is dictated by idiots, and those enforcing it are caught between a rock and a hard place. The rest of us are just simply screwed. Let me demonstrate.

A police officer must show due diligence in enforcing the law. As an example, he must make so many traffic stops, reports of unusual activity, do so many arrests, and so on, per number of hours on duty. I am not saying the he has a quota to fill as such. This is a measure of a number of things. It can support the statistics of the actual crime rate in an area, the effectiveness of the laws, the competence of the officer, his willingness to be impartial, and so on. Often this is used in his evaluation for promotion. This means, he cannot sit on his ass and let crime come to him when he is on the job. That happens when he gets a call from dispatch, but that’s just part of what he does. He is expected to find and confront crime.

Some organizations have classes to teach officers to deal with crime without being “racist”, which is the intent behind the profiling laws. Fine, we can all learn a few things on our jobs.

Let’s take a step back for the moment and look at the TSA (Transportation Security Administration in the USA) approach. I don’t have the verbiage of their directive for airport security, but I am the recipient of it. My wife travels by air about twice a year. Without knowing her in person, any sane and rational individual looking at her would conclude the following:
“This person is extremely unlikely to be a would-be terrorist who carries weapons or explosives onto an aircraft for the purpose of blowing up herself along with fellow passengers.”

This conclusion would be based on some observation by the security personnel at the gates: X-ray shows no dangerous substance or object, she has red hair, freckles, friendly demeanor, and the only things she might be discreetly hiding are her clothing are her natural curves. In other words, she looks like she is about any kid’s mom or some kids’ grandma. The above conclusion is based on statistics and feelings. I actually don’t have the statistics on the ethnicity or personal appearance of actual and foiled terrorists. Similarly, I don’t remember ever reading my wife’s personal description as one of them. OK, maybe some years ago between the Irish factions that might have come up, but even there, come on, it’s far-fetched.

The idiotic avoidance of profiling by TSA is following an administrative rule. Consequently, my curvaceous wife goes through body search to make sure that the bumps and lumps under her clothes are part of her body. I would hate to think what women, or women-wannabies who wear artificial enhancements would go through trying to prove that the lumps are not plastique (explosives), but just some silicone or other foam substance.

I would approve pulling some person out of the queue at the gate because he fits the profile of a terrorist. Law enforcement agencies have built some expertise based on profiling, which in turn is based on statistics obtained on crimes and criminals. But no, the idiot administrators who make these rules, choose to ignore that accumulated wisdom, one that could save your ass when some terrorist is not picked out of the line based on his profile. They would rather be politically correct to cover their stupid asses, than to save yours and mine, and at the same time subject most of us to the inconvenience of body searches and the confiscation of fingernail clippers and gel toothpaste.

Getting back to the police officer on the street … I dare these bleeding heart politically correct policy makers to do the following:

• Go through background check in order to be accepted into some police academy for training. Prior arrests for drunk driving, drug usage, any felony will disqualify you (too bad the same criteria are not used for our elected representatives in congress and the presidency).
• Go through police training and graduate with enough credentials to be considered by a police agency.
• Get accredited by an organization of your peers so that you can be certified as a police officer.
• Get a job with a police agency.
• Go through on the job training and be evaluated by one of your superiors such that you can be qualified to be on your own once on the job.
• Be dumped into a crime-ridden environment where the residents will not support you even if you are on their side, and the criminals will shoot you on sight.
• Remain impartial in your administration of the law under all circumstances.
• Do not engage in profiling even if it means going against your other requirements to enforce the law. This is because you would be sued, ostracized, could lose your job, and be kept out of law enforcement afterward.
  

By the way, these are the hurdles our officers in my state must pass with flying colors to become and remain on the job.

So, let’s say that you are a police officer in a neighborhood that is basically white middle class. You see a white young man getting out of a car, looking nervous. He is wearing gloves. His jacket is zipped up to the neck. He has a knit cap pulled down to his eyes, wears sunglasses although it is nighttime. He walks into the convenience store across the street. Regardless of your color as a police officer, you should report your observation as you furtively cross the street and observe the situation. If your “profiling” was wrong, and this young man is simply cold, has light sensitive eyes, and came in only to buy a bottle of eye remedy, all is well. Then again, he could be bent on a crime, in which case you are in a good position to do what you are there to do.

Let’s switch the ethnicity of the young man to something other than white. Suddenly, you must contend with conflicting directives. On the one hand, the “profile” of the young man suggests what it did before. On the other hand, “anti profiling rules” kick in, and you must wait until the crime does take place even before reporting your observations. Meanwhile, the old adage, “If it talks like a duck, walks like a duck, looks like a duck, it’s a duck” is amended to consider the color of the duck. This is where idiocy rules.

One more thing is blatant. In law enforcement, assuming honest execution of laws, no person will be stopped, questioned, or detained without probable cause. This is based on the fourth amendment to our constitution. In laymen’s terms, a police officer will not stop and interrogate some person on a whim. The officer either has a warrant, observed an illegal act, or he must have probable cause to investigate, and be able to prove it to a judge. This is sometimes glossed over when doing, for example, roadblocks during holidays to test drivers’ sobriety. However, even then, all drivers are stopped and interviewed similarly, so it is not an arbitrary search and seizure or profiling. This is not true with respect to airport securities. Those people will take any passenger on a whim, out of all the others to subject him to search totally without reason, regardless of whether his profile fits that of a terrorist. Maybe they take every twelfth female, or every twenty-fifth toddler. Who knows? They do this to prove that they are not racially motivated, and that they are not using appearance for “profiling” regardless of how the profile might otherwise fit.

As I said, idiocy rules.

Lesbian, Or Just Loving?

I may have more to say about this subject later. I just wanted to show this in a benign context.

There is only one scene I would find more enticing and endearing in a sexual scenario: a man and a woman doing the same thing. But this is definitely a close second.

I don’t get much out of seeing pictures of male homosexuality. With female to female sex, on the other hand, I could hardly go wrong in my expectation of an esoteric thrill. This particular picture is of unknown origin, so I cannot give credit. What makes it so endearing to me is the spontaneity. They appear to be just regular women, like your wife or girlfriend, not one of those posed paid-for-models pictures. There is nothing blatant or sexually provocative, just sweet love. Seeing it makes me love women more.

More On Orgasm Control

In my previous post I did not delve into this deeply enough. I don’t want readers to misinterpret my remarks on this subject. I will try to make my point clear this time.

I am sorry to disillusion the fanatics. Few men or women are as simple as what is assumed under the regime of male orgasm control. Neither men, nor women suddenly change behavior in any meaningful and permanent way as a result of being subjected to it. The following are not rules, but rational evaluations of human behavior.

1. Orgasm control does different things to different people.
2. There is no single rule that defines a man’s behavior under orgasm control, other than, “he does not get to orgasm” as long as the device or mental conditioning works. Read this as, “He does not necessarily become more subservient, as opposed to the way he would be if he orgasmed at his needed frequency”.
3. Anyone assuming that any man becomes more docile and willing to serve if his orgasm is limited is making a mistake. All men are not wired that way.
4. Some will cooperate (see the testimonials on several blog sites),
5. Some will find a way around the control (hence the search and need for more secure devices)
6. Some will become belligerent,
7. Some will strike out,
8. Some will quit the relationship.

If you base your conclusion on the items 4 and 5 above, it is like reaching into a jar of blue marbles: when you withdraw one, it is likely to be blue. Those of you who think that you have everything figured out about men may need to do some homework. Orgasm control/male chastity is a nice game, but it is just as much of a preferred lifestyle as is a female led relationship. When you try to make it universal, you are defeating the purpose: it is supposed to be under mutual consent. As such, it is always open to negotiations. Corollary: it does not work the same way every time, or for every man or woman. I assume that one can force the relationship in some scenario, but let's try to remain realistic.

I have been the recipient of orgasm control, on and off, and it works just fine. There are several things I can think of in my case, which may be common to many. For example, I am kinky enough to actually put on the device myself, without MW being aware of it, just for the sexual thrill. I would do this sometimes when she is away from home for more than a day. Whether or not that motivates me to be a better sub to her is unknown.

Another issue is with her putting it on me, or ordering me to do it. That is even a bigger thrill. Then, if she remains aware of it, checks it occasionally, even teases me about it, I consider that a lot of attention on my sexuality, so it is a greater thrill. Sure, in gratitude, I would be more subservient to her. Now, if the device were completely secure, that is, unremovable without destruction, the thrill would be even greater for a while. It would be like living a fantasy. At some point, however, especially if the very secure device is ignored, I would become more than a little disappointed. Yes, it takes two to play this game. One to cause the thrill, and one to reciprocate in perceived increase of submission. But, in my case, it would work only for a while unless I received some recognition for my missed orgasms.

In most of these affidavits of the success of orgasm control the lucky recepient of all this sexual thrill has a chance of removing the device from time to time in order to achieve the orgasm granted by the keyholder. In other words, there is hope for orgasms. In some of the more extreme fantasies the keyholder either throws away the key, or does some extreme body modification of the man to the extent that he has no hope of ever achieving orgasm in the expected way. As far as the fantasy goes, it is a great challenge and thrill but only once. When it is over, the thrill and the incentive to serve are also likely to be gone: the carrot dangled before the dupe is no longer there. The woman just lost her effectiveness in control.

The thing we don’t know is how all this would have worked without orgasm control. As a result, there is no way knowing its effectiveness. Urban legends, affidavits, myths, fantasies, as reported on the blogs, don’t mean their weight in beans. Only a scientifically conducted study could determine its true effectiveness, and there is nobody out there to fund it.

For now, let’s enjoy its benefits, and try not to make it the rule, or expect all men or women to behave according to our expectations. As long as you realize that male orgasm control is not a cure for a man's slovenly habits or lack of consideration, you can have some fun and maybe some coveted results. But the satisfaction must be mutual for it to work at all. If it works, fine. If it does not work, try something else.

Orgasm Control By The One In Charge

At first I was thrilled reading web logs and forums on the subject. I still get some thrill under selected circumstances. But in general, the thrill is not as intense as it used to be.

In an analogous fashion to the old adage, “There are no old jokes, just old people who have heard them already,” I want to add: “Orgasm control is thrilling, unless you have read or experienced it all.”

Now that I have alienated most of the newbe’s I will get down to the meat of the matter. In a female led relationship all participants’ orgasms should be up to the female if she chooses so. Note that this is not a rule, just a reasonable suggestion. Her orgasms, without question, should be approved and requested by her. Otherwise it would not be an FLR. She can play vanilla if she chooses, but it is still her choice. Have I made myself clear?

Now we are getting to his orgasms or the lack of. Here is where we can get really weird, kinky, or just plain mean. Some of us (well, maybe not me, see Ignore and Denial) males get off on being denied. I don’t begrudge the idea or the experience. It is great fodder for fantasy. Some men have written books about it. I, myself, like to play it for a while on and off.

Now, my input: I don’t want to be “ignored and denied”. I would occasionally love to be teased and denied, even repeatedly, but only to a certain extent. At some point I get pissed off, and the deal is off. Unless I am in some sort of secure chastity device, and I have been on and off, I will have my private pleasure, and to hell with guilt.

Some forums concentrate on chastity and orgasm denial. The participants present their pathetic fantasies, and in some better pieces, their realities. Those who rely strictly on fantasy have my pity. It is a shame that they don’t have a woman who can really deny their orgasms, as opposed to their wishing. Nevertheless, I don’t mind the genre as such. It is at least mildly entertaining.

Then there are some real posts. If a man really wants to be denied, for now, for a while, or for ever, hey, who am I to object? I just don’t see the attraction on the long run. It can be fun while playing games. But after a while, damn it, a man just have to get his rocks off! Yeah, I know, it’s a guy thing. Just like a female orgasm is a girl thing. To each his or her own.

MW can have one, more, or several orgasms in a row. I love to give her what it takes to do that. She knows it. Me, I can have one at a time. On rare occasions I had more. But not lately. So, if I don’t begrudge her to have any number of these little deaths, any time, why should she prevent me from having one once in a while? She does not. Forget the drivel about a man being more willing to serve if he is denied orgasm. It's fantasy. I might not be as willing, say, being forced to suck another man's cock immediately after I had orgasmed, wheras, lateer, ... well, who knows. But a man willingly submissive to a woman should do all he can regardless of whether she had allowed him to orgasm half hour before, or a year before. If you disagree, then you are just making judgement on the submissives who are already doing just that: orgasm has nothing to do with being submissive on the long run.

Men bitch about lack of orgasms, or they brag about not having any because the significant other put them in a device or such, etc… I think that all that has to do with what the men want, rather than what the women want. The women mostly go with the men’s fantasy. It’s OK, just that let’s call it what it is. It’s easier for her to take a hint, rather than try to make up stuff that he might not like, and then bitch about it. Let’s write a short story, a novel, or a “submissive male’s user’s manual”, and call it that. Let’s not call it reality unless it is real.

I admit that I get off on weird things such as CBT, orgasm denial, chastity, female domination, etc. I could almost live on that stuff. Well, maybe not, but it would be fun to try for a while. But in my case, the bottom line is, without my orgasms at a more or less frequent interval, the whole thing sucks, but not in a good way. Yes, I could learn to live with it, and yes, I have from time to time, but no, I don’t want to live with it for the rest of my life. If I miss an orgasm today, I can never make it up later.

In some scenario I could end up with a mate who cannot provide any orgasms for me. That is not an uncommon situation. Regardless of her feelings, permissions, customs, or expectations, I would have to consider mine. Life is short. Pleasures are expensive or cheap, depending on your approach and preferences. Only few things in life are freely available, and this is one. What am I to do in this case? My answer would be, “Whatever it takes.” So, as you can conclude, I am not a true submissive by the rules when it comes to orgasms. I would take my own pleasure without permission. Unless MW were to forbid it. Until then, you know …

Why Do I Submit To Women?

Actually, as much as I would love to do so, my wife would not permit it.

Why do I submit to MW? Let me count the reasons.

All my life, as far back as I can remember, I was in control of myself. Sure, there was my mother, and my father, but much of the time I was on my own. There was no frigging babysitter, ever.

As I grew up, I took on more responsibility. I would love to go to details, but I need to remain anonymous, so I’ll skip some of the juicy but revealing situations. Nevertheless, I seldom had the luxury of relaxing, and have someone else be in charge. Later, raising a family, getting college degrees, and working to make a living, left no time or opportunity for giving up control. I am sure that MW had a hard time with me then. I apologize for that, but when one sleeps three hours a night for months, one must control closely. Missing a traffic signal could have cost me an hour’s worth of sleep.

At that time I knew that I needed to give up control from time to time, but between MW and me we could not manage that somehow. It was not until I began to relax a bit that we figured out that my giving up total control could be a good thing. Well, it has not happened to the full extent. As I pointed out many times before, “Being in charge carries a responsibility, and most people don’t want it.” Yes, some don’t mind being in charge from time to time, but screw the responsibility part! That’s a chore.

We have arrived at a compromise. She is in charge whenever she decides, and I shut up and put up. At any time I am in charge of the things that she does not want to deal with. When the dust settles, I pick it up. If she does not like my handling it, she whips my ass. It is a working arrangement. I get to deal with the wilderness around us, she gets to tell me what to do. The only thing missing is my frequent orgasms. Note that I said, missing. She is not into gratifying me often, or at any time, for that matter, unless it thrills her. This is when I could use a few slave girls, or even a spare mistress. Alas, MW would not go along with that either.

So, I still want to submit to women, and in my position, to this particular woman. It temporarily relives me of my responsibilities. It also offers memories to savor when I am under stress in real life.

Journalistic Excess

I was reading the paper after work. The headline showed, “…Officer Arrested For Domestic Violence.” As usual, the front-page article showed the facts, in this case, that the man was arrested. After that they often show some details if they have it. In this case: none. When they run out of realistic details, they show assumed context, such as “It is unclear that ... " [read that as,”we don’t know shit”] … Finally, they dig into the bowels of the crud they have accumulated on the people, organization, and ideas. Even if remotely related, they embellish that. The bottom line is that they are not reporting news that they know.

What I have just said is that the so-called reporter found out that a police officer was arrested for domestic violence. Anything else on the front-page and afterward is crud to pad the space on the pages of the paper, either unrelated, or fabricated.

You might think that I am being vindictive against this sort of reporting. You may be right. What pisses me off is when these so-called reporters report nothing that is factual. They say, “assumed”, “presumed”, “alleged” “it is unclear”, and then grab half-baked stories out of the archives that were just as badly unsubstantiated, but they are now on record [their own record, that is]. When they don’t have a story, they either make one up, or create one. Sure, they try to cover their asses to avoid libel. The problem is, in most cases, the target of their ill-reporting has deeper problems than suing a paper for libel.

This one is made up based on an arrest for which they have no detail. If they had the detail, they would have printed it. They tried to create a story when they said, “The [person] is expected to appear before the Justice of the Peace …” So where is the news in that? Has it occurred? No. Oh, yeah, it’s expected to occur. That’s news? That usually happens after an arrest, you moron!

These barracudas should be given a shovel to move some dirt to build up our southern border, and not be messing with gullible people’s minds. And, of course, the man's photograph in uniform was part of the front page article. After all, they have to be factual.

I don’t know this particular police officer. What I do know is that when we are on the job, we don’t ask, “Before I let you watch my back, you must agree that you are not an accused wife beater. Are you one, or not?”

At the least, that question, if I voiced it, would be awkward. It would also earn me some loose teeth, and a long time on my own, as in “being ostracized.” At best, the officer would leave me to my own devices, which is not good.

The bottom line is, we help one another without asking questions. We are not blind to some limitations that show up from time to time, but once we are out on the street, we live and die by the support of our peers. The time and the place are determined by the law-breaker. The rest is up to us.

Getting back to this man, I find it very disturbing to have discovered this situation. No man should be violent toward a person except in special circumstances, which this was not one. Worse even, he is a member of the elite, he should know better. I could not think of a more distasteful chore than to arrest a fellow officer for domestic violence.

I happen to know the judge who is to interview and then decide this man’s immediate future. I have met him professionally, and we also have a connection through my wife on a personal basis. If I were before him in court as an accused, I would be very much embarrassed. I would also be very much concerned about my future.

The police officer in this situation has his own problems. If he is cleared of charges, he may still carry a patina of wrongdoing that will be difficult to wear off. If he is guilty, his career in law enforcement is over. We are held to a higher standard than others. A politician may commit hideous acts and the get elected to a highly coveted political post anyway (see former Senator Kennedy). But once a law enforcement officer is accused of a crime or misbehaviour, guilty or not, there is slim chance of extricating himself from it. I have personally known several who had to give up law enforcement like that.

In no way do I condone domestic violence regardless of who is doing it to whom. If this man is guilty, the courts will determine the punishment that he deserves. I feel sorry for him and his victim. If he is innocent, I feel his pain. Guilty or innocent, he will never recover from this. It just pisses me off to see his face on the front page with the implied accusations.

I am not proposing putting limits on journalism. I am adamant, however, on professionalism in any field. Writing for the public comes with a responsibility. The so-called professionals should consider the consequences of their accusations and careless throwing of assumptions. If they are news reporters, they should stay with reporting news, not padding their gutless, useless, and careless words with assumptions and old crud, like in this case.

The Way We Perceive Reality Dominates Our Existence

Tainted Childhood

My wife’s father raised his children with strict discipline, as in “Your ass is grass, no matter what.” At least, that is what MW had conveyed to me. Her mother may have gone along with it for a reason that I should not try to guess. Nevertheless, she was not defending her children when mean old dad came home and did the discipline thing using various instruments. The discipline was based on mom’s bitching about what kids did or did not do while he was at work.

I was not privy to this situation until many years past our nuptials, and only second-hand from my wife’s stories. To say the least, MW was tainted by alpha males. She still had the hots for Hollywood macho (John Wayne) or debonair (Cary Grant) male characters, but when it came to reality, such as me, that was a different story. With me, her father’s behavior set the role, and even in my most tender moments she was on guard. I could seldom, if ever, do the right thing and expect her to just enjoy it. There was always a reservation of fear of her not being worthy, or what people will think of her reaction to pleasure, or anything. One might surmise from this that she had problems, and he would be correct.

Fast-forward some decades

Given the above does not mean that she is totally messed up. She is a perfectly functional human, wife, mother, sister, and friend to many people. It means that she has brought a lot of useless baggage with her from childhood, and we are working on divesting ourselves of it.

We are in a position such that my willingness to help and serve her has been evident, and my unwillingness to hurt her in any way should be obvious. However, that does not let me off the hook. She is still worried about life as it is. She is concerned about making sounds when we share pleasure. She seldom allows herself to just feel good and not worry about whether she had earned it. Trepidations… Then the other things …

I can say, “Something does not smell right in the refrigerator,” and she hears, “You worthless girl, your only purpose in life is to keep the refrigerator clean and uncluttered, and now see what you have done!”

She struggles with her inheritance. Her father loved and supported his children in his own peculiar way, such as photographs and bronze plated baby shoes. But he was not what I would call the best loving and supporting parent in more realistic ways. His grown children expressed their general behavior in their father’s presence as, “Try to blend into the background, and if you are seen anyway, duck.”

I am an outsider, so can’t say what is what. In the many years that I have known MW’s father I never had any problem with him. In the last several years he has been great. MW’s mother was something else. Instead of being supportive of anyone who could use help, she had been destructive. Even worse, she had been using up the good will of those few people who would help her in her old age. Passive resistance and subversion were her tools. MW realizes this, and has stated a number of times that she (MW) should be warned by us if she begins to behave like her mother. After all, she is her mother’s daughter. Well, MW has a long way to become that abusive and destructive. She is a caring, warm, creative, loving, wonderful person. She does well for our family, community, and people whom we don’t know, but value greatly, such as our soldiers serving overseas. But, we still have problems.

I think that she and I are both past the time when we could benefit from psychoanalysis. That sort of therapy, since Jung, has been known to take many years, if ever, to bear fruit. At this stage in our lives that is not a viable option. I never really thought that years of psychoanalysis was any use, but then I am not educated in psychotherapy. My approach to problem solving is (1) identify and limit the problem, (2) offer a number of potential solutions, (3) choose the most viable and appropriate under the circumstances, and (4) do it within available resource limits. Yes, I know, psychology is not that deterministic, and cannot, in general, be conducted that way. Still, the “years of therapy” approach must have the same characteristics. Without it, the therapist and the patient just wander around aimlessly, and never know if there was a real problem, or if there was, the problem has been solved. Am I by any chance describing psychotherapy in general?

So, if I have a deep-seated psychological problem, I am screwed. I am totally unwilling to spend years and thousands of dollars in therapy, but I don’t have a realistic way of fixing what is wrong. Of course, that assumes that I know exactly what is wrong and am willing to admit it. That may not be the case.

So we live with our problems that taint every hour of our existence. Because of our misconceptions we punish those who should be praised. It is a wonder why our children and our friends put up with us. Then again, everybody has problems, so maybe they understand.

I don’t want to close on a negative feeling. I have been introduced to people’s intimate problems while serving in law enforcement. The feeling I had many times was, “I don’t know how I would deal with this.” Yet, the people involved resolved most problems. Some not too well, but in general, the participants came out all right. We are resilient, and when there is love and commitment, a solution will offer itself. As long as I am still around, I will wait for one.

Half Naked Thursday Sep 09

Many bloggers repeatedly titillate us with their muscular or curvaceous bodies simply because it happens to be Thursday. Although I have posted photograpsh of some very private parts, This will be my first attempt to participate in what we call HNT.

Without further ado, Ladies and Gentlemen, I present for your enjoyment, part of the context in which my earlier explicit photographs were posted.

First my magnificent back. Please note that, as far as you can see, all the marks left by MW’s love taps have mostly disappeared. She was shocked to realize that this morning, and promised to correct the condition.

Next is my equally provoking front. The scratches that you see on my right side are not a result of rough love. I earned them while pruning a particularly thorny tree in my front yard.

See a piece of the branches here.

In the summer I usually wear slip-on shoes and short shorts when outside and around the house. You can tell by my lily white buns, whereas everything else is dark. The thorns had easy access to my skin from shoulder to toes dressed the way i am.

Actually, the real reason for my doing this HNT bit now is because, if I wait, that little pudginess around my waist will become even more embarrassing. I do work out six days a week, but still I am putting on some girth that was never there before. Some unenlightened people tell me that there are many calories in beer and wine. What do they know? I might try this again in a year if I am still around. Then we will see whether they are right. Maybe.

I suppose that I could have posted some of my earlier pictures, but that would be dishonest under the circumstances. I hope you see why I had to work fast. I did not even ask MW to take my pictures. I just set up the camera on a tripod, and took three shots on a timer. These are the best two out of three. The view of the branch was an afterthought.

Controversial Issues

As I stated in my previous post, none of the material is my opinion, but is based directly on the source. One may dismiss the source for various reasons, and I am sure that many of you will do just that. What I want to point out here is about the first comment to this prior post. In it, the commenter said, “The only thing clear is that these people are ignorantly racist.”

Let’s examine the support for this statement.

304 Million --- Population of the US in 2008
26 Million --- Number of "Black” people in the US over age 18
(Data from the U.S. Census Bureau)

I need to do some interpretation here. Of the 26M blacks, some are not of voting age, some don’t give a damn about voting, others are in jail, ex-con, etc., so let’s cut that by, say 10 percent, which brings it to about 23M. Now, if we assume that all 23M voted for Obama because he is black, it means that they voted against the other guy because the other guy is white. Now, that would be racist! So, I am sure that this was not the case, which means the number of black folks voting for Obama was less than 23M even if you add the votes gathered from cemeteries by ACORN.

Given that the popular votes for Obama were 66.8M, one must assume that those ignorantly racist whites must have also voted for him to account for the remaining 43.8M votes. So, I ask, “Where is the racism in this?”

In a recent article Maureen Dowd wrote on the incident when Rep. Joe Wilson said "You lie" during Obama’s speech. A quote from Dowd,

“Surrounded by middle-aged white guys -- a sepia snapshot of the days when such pols ran Washington like their own men's club -- Joe Wilson yelled 'You lie!' at a president who didn't. But, fair or not, what I heard was an unspoken word in the air: You lie, boy!"

The interesting part of this is, in my distillation of her words, “Wilson didn’t say the word, ‘boy’, but I heard it!” Then she goes on about racism.

Duh. Does anybody see something wrong with this?

All the photos that I published were about issues with which the hundreds of thousands of demonstrators disagree. A few years ago demonstrators objected to the war in Afghanistan and Iraq. Were they racists? Or were they objecting to an issue?

When people run out of logic, or even better, never had logic or fact behind their argument, they resort to ad hominem arguments: attack the opponent’s character instead. For example, it is now obvious, based on several polls, that Americans don’t want the destruction of the best healthcare system in the world. Yet, those who think they know what is best for us, will call us racist, for they have no real argument any more.

Two Issues

I am including a link on a controversial issue, and some direct pictures on another. Neither is an opinion: not my opinion, not a third party opinion, but come from the sources directly. The first was aired on Al Jezeera. From my source,

"It is extremely surprising that the Arab financed TV in Dubai would allow this to air. Be sure and watch this, it is so powerful I have no doubt she now has a very large price on her head. I also have no doubt it won't be on the air long. She is one impressive woman. Here is a powerful and amazing statement on Al Jezeera television. The woman is Wafa Sultan, an Arab-American psychologist from Los Angeles."

http://switch3.castup.net/cunet/gm.asp?ai=214&ar=1050wmv&ak=nul



The other is people in action. I don’t watch TV, so I don’t know how much of this was aired in the USA. Knowing the mainstream media, I doubt that you will see these, for they are not supportive of the current Congress and the administration.

Female Ejaculation

This is a favorite topic of a fetish. I am concentrating on the would be cocksucker, the one who wants to get his juices from that most wonderful female part, the place from which we all came.

I am not different. I covet all her juices regardless of the circumstances. All right, I might make some objections due to Sexually Transmitted Diseases, and such. However, if I were pushed, it would be difficult to decide. Vagina is my life’s passion. Therefore, you may see what I am trying to convey. I was borne by it; I have tried to imagine its glory during my early years before I ever saw one. I sensed and to an extent experienced its wonders through sight and scents, and on rare occasions, tactile feels later.

One might say that I have seen, smelled, tasted, and felt all that wonder. Maybe. I am not saying that I have seen it all. Maybe there is female ejaculation. Just that, there is no physiological reason or mechanism to back it up. I am sorry, but this is my report!

Female ejaculation is not like male ejaculation. The male has the physiology to support it. The female has other wonderful parts, but not this one. Whatever you may have seen or be led to believe, there is no such thing. So, please, give up your quest, and get to the reality of it: she has female parts that are even better. She does not ejaculate. She does not squirt the female equivalent of male semen. Nevertheless, when you get to experience what she does, you will no longer care.

If you still need the ejaculate proceeds, I suggest that you get together with a fully functional male, or a couple where the male has already ejaculated into the female. Nice scenario, and realistic. Whereas female ejaculation is not.

Bull

Those of us who are still alive go through continual evolution. It is a way of life.

Among other blogs I used to frequent those whose theme was cuckolding and hot wives. Those people knew how to have fun when the fun went out of their lives being just themselves.

I am also a believer of escalation. It has to do with human nature. One human cannot remain satisfied with status quo. We insist on enlarging the scenario, increasing the intensity, prolonging the duration, and taking on more challenges. You know what I mean. Yesterday you have suffered twenty strokes of the crop on your butt, tomorrow you will want twenty-four, or maybe the use of the cane. Yesterday you were happy with vanilla sex; tomorrow you will want cuckolding, threesomes, pegging, etc.

I am alive. I go through the evolution. Within my narrow experience I want escalation too. To what extent, I don’t know, since I have not reached many of my limits. There are many subjects with limits, and I am willing to try.

As for evolution, I no longer visit certain blogs that used to fascinate me. I am not suggesting that I lose interest, or that I want to end up with ultimate experiences. All I am saying is that “It has been fun, and now there are other things that draw my interest.” I still keep up with the various kinks, but not to the extent that I did before. I evolve.

The original theme of my blog was FLR. It still is, but I have extended my horizon. As of this time FLR is essential to my being, it is being practiced, but not the entire focus of my attention. I can now admit that I have other interests also. I have evolved.

This has put me into a broader perspective from which to appreciate (or not) the subjects whose authors still elaborate: FLR, cuckolding, chastity, orgasm denial, D/S, S/M, and a lot of other really fun stuff. I still like to read about them, I would love to practice some or to some extent all of them, just that they don’t drive my life. I could actually make a rational choice given extremely provocative alternatives, and end up with no regrets. Now, that is really saying something!

I have a lot more to say about this, but I need to get back to what the title of this post implies. The noun, bull, has been used in animal husbandry, in hot wives, in cuckolding, even in religion. Maybe in other contexts too, but my focus this time is limited to the use of bull in cuckolding. We all know what a bull is. It is a dumb brute of an animal with a huge penis. Which brings me to the point of this post. Some dominant and kinky females, or in the case of the fake blogs, males with fertile imagination, use or describe the use of human males for their purposes. These “human males” have only one purpose: fuck the dominant female, hence the use of the term “bull”.

As far as I can tell from the stories, the husband or male partner is either incapable or unwilling to do the service to or for her, therefore, she resorts to using a bull. Not the animal variety, but the human analogue.

I may be a bit jaundiced but even if I were inadequate in any respect to serve my wife, I would resent dealing with a bull. For my purposes, a bull is unintelligent, and needs to be controlled because of its strength and potential for destruction. So what does wifey want? Does she want a huge cock with sheer muscle behind it, or an instrument of pleasure with intelligence? Ok, I have both, but I must think of the poor schmucks who have neither, or at best, one. They have a problem. Then again, wifey has a problem when she realizes that her decision to marry the schmuck who has neither or only one of the attributes she so highly prizes is no longer adequate for her purposes. Now she wants a bull with a built in pile driver and no brain. Who is in charge there?

I may be going overboard with this, so I will back off. The only problem I have with this is the word used, “bull”. It just does not feel right. From every respect, the noun is wrong in the context. Look up the definition, and you will agree.

I could go with her wanting a “boyfriend, male friend, lover, guy-with-a-huge-cock”, whatever, but bull? A bull is an animal!

Servitude With Pain

I used to clean the Mistress bathroom once a week, but lately I have become slack about my responsibilities. But then, once in a while, MW reminds me in no uncertain terms. For the next few days I have bruises on my ass.

They have mostly faded by now. Today was my chore to clean the Mistress bathroom. That involves removing furniture, and other things that are sitting on horizontal surfaces. Then the real cleaning follows by vacuum cleaning the floor, scrubbing the toilet, sink, shower, bathtub, and the floor. You might think “So what?” Well, this bathroom is big and has lots of stuff in it to clean. That’s what. I do this in my natural state. When she shows up and decides to whip my ass, I must drop everything to accommodate her whim. When she is done, my ass hurts, and I go back to work. Somehow it seems right.

She had me in a CB2000 for some time, but I had to go out, so she removed the device. Of course, it would be silly of me to assume that I was free. She ordered me to install Kali’s teeth. This insidious but seemingly innocuous piece of plastic is more evil than the benign CBXXXX devices. Generally it hurts like hell when I sit in my car with tight pants on. After some experimentation, she no longer required me to wear it while I was on duty. We decided that if I were to end up in a hospital or under the care of medics, some judge would make an issue of my wearing such device while trying to be professional. So I no longer do that. Still, if I go out just to do our private business, the evil little plastic teeth are doing their thing. Once in a while when I just sit down behind the wheel of my truck I have to reach between my belt and my skin and adjust things. If anyone watches, he will, of course, think that I am playing with myself.

I have said before that Kali’s teeth is an evil device. The worst part is when during the night I wake to extreme pain due to the hardness of my cock pressing against the rows of sharp teeth (sometimes I wish that I could get it up to that extent on a whim when I am not sleeping). Of course, at this point further sleep is out of question. So, regardless of what time of the night it is, I get out of bed and go do something. By the time the little guy reverts to its flaccid form the pain is mostly gone, but then I can no longer hope to sleep, so I stay up.

Last evening she told me to wake her if I have this problem. I forgot, so when I got up due to the pain I stayed up for a while. I got sleepy, so I decided to go back to bed anyway. After a couple of hours of half-sleep I had another painful erection, so I woke her. She was so amused by it that she insisted on photographing it. Well, after my attention was swayed from the problem, the pain subsided, and so did the erection. But she managed to catch it in mid-flaccidity.

I usually experience a problem after long-term wearing of any chastity device so far. It results in swollen foreskin condition.

MW is kind enough to have me remove all devices with the exception of the PA ring, of course. You can see the impression the Kali’s teeth make. What is not obvious is that after the swelling goes away, there will be a pattern of pinprick like punctures encircling the little guy, each prick marking the place of one of Kali’s teeth.

It takes the little guy a couple of days or so to return to normal. The tiny punctures are healed, and then the fun begins again.

Supermodels

I have not been watching television for a while because of the shallowness of the already shallow crud they produce. I read a lot in various sources, but Hollywood, fashion, gossip, etc., I don’t frequent. So, I don’t know whether the term, “Supermodel” is still extant. Nevertheless, back then, I was irritated with it enough to turn off or toss whatever medium was promoting it in my face.

I used to admire the women who did fashion modeling some years before that. They were supposed to be extraordinarily beautiful so that women of our lives would have a model to covet and to mimic. Alas, these models have become corrupted over the years. When a so-called supermodel consists of skin and bone with no redeeming qualities otherwise, I draw the line.

I love women without qualification. Yes, there are bad women, but that’s not what I am relating here. I am talking about the charming qualities of women in general. In my own words, “I am versatile” when it comes to the appreciation of women. Tall or short, wide or thin, homely or beautiful, young or old, they all have charms that grab me by my private parts. I could hardly refuse any woman anything. Well, there are exceptions. For example, if she were not clean, I would try to stay away regardless of her distant charm. Other than that, anything goes.

The problem I have is with the assumed charm of females who look like victims of the concentration camps of the Nazi regime during world was two. The real victims were not subject of sexual or fashionable epitome of female charm. Neither are these deluded supermodels that starve themselves to look attractive. It does not work. I know that there are those who covet the skin and bones look. They are welcome to it, but generally they are in a minority.

Women should look the way they feel natural. Thin is OK, if they feel thin; voluptuous is fine if they feel voluptuous. Between the two is great also. In my often-quoted words, “It’s not what you have, but what you do with it.”

So, trying to be a stick figure of the average supermodel may do you harm in more ways that one. Please, dear women, just be yourselves. I so much appreciate that.

I Know You Are, But What Am I?

A lovely lady said on her blog the following: “It seems to me that our society places too much emphasis on both gender identity and sexual orientation.” I don’t want to explain the context, you can see it at Labels ... etc. Aug 30, 09

I usually don’t make excuses for the powers that be, for I am just as much a victim of my ineptitude as any other. Still, I want to point out some sober things. Our western society relies on stability. That is why laws have been made and enforced since Hammurabi (non-western, 1750 BC or so), so that we have a basis from which to decide.

Much of today’s basic laws are based on ascension. The decision way back then may have been arbitrary, but it was a way to ensure property and rights. It was sort of like, “the first born male shall inherit … and everyone else shall pick up what’s left, if any”. Ok, so it was based on the male having all that, and I am not debating its veracity. However, it provided stability throughout the centuries of civilization.

Today it is different, at least in the USA. There is no law that makes a first borne male automatically the inheritor and in charge. In spite of that, it is still customary for a woman to take on the man’s surname upon marriage. But the gender specification does not stop there. Say, I married my wife as a man, and she a woman. Later on I decide that I want to become a woman. She and I work out the details, and if she still has any use for me, she may stay with me and see the process to completion. But that’s just between her and me. I would have to deal with the at least some of the following:

• Health and life insurance companies with whom I deal
  
• Banks and investment firms with which I deal
• Social Security Administration (in the USA)
• Federal Bureau of Investigation (in the USA)
• Local, county, and state police
• Relatives and acquaintances who expect a male but not someone on the fringe
• Etc.
  

I don’t think that I would have to justify my gender change to all of those agencies, just that changing from George to Georgina would, at the least, confuse people to my economic decrement at the least. For example, if I were to be arrested for criminal speeding in an automobile, would I be booked as a male or as a female? Would I care at the time? Would I care afterward? Would I sue the police for incarcerating me with the wrong gender?

Then there is the matter of gender identification. For example, in a commercial health club, they have the men’s and the women’s dressing rooms and manner of expected apparel. Which would I choose? Personally, I have no problem sharing dressing room with the opposite gender. I try not to ogle, and keep my eyes to my space. Actually, I don’t walk around naked even in the men’s dressing room, since there is no requirement to do so. Some guys do, and I assume that some girls do also. But still, the time comes when in my gender change I begin to appear more feminine than masculine, so someone must decide. One side or the other is going to complain, and then the friggin' lawyers get into the act.

This, I think, is why there is “ … emphasis on both gender identity and sexual orientation,” as such. Things, even people, need to be sorted so that we can deal with them. There will always be the oddballs who get grief from all sides. Life is not fair, so we do the best we can under the circumstances.

If I were to open a business such as a health club, I would prefer to minize my expense and provide one dressing room for all. Even if 98 percent of the customers were to agree with that (not that they would), some 2 percent would sue me for not having a place to hide their genitalia from the opposite sex. So, I would have to provide equal access to privacy based on male versus female assessment. It’s not necessarily my preference, it’s not necessarily the law, but it is dictated by edict from the law that assures that even minorities get their say. Then there are the friggin’ lawyers who want to make a living from fomenting discontent among the malcontent and the avaricious. We can never fully satisfy the greedy.

Most of what I said above is irrelevant when one’s gender identification, or sexual preference is between consenting adults. That is where one can let it all hang out. I have seen photographs of transgendered males, transsexual males, and transvestites. Just as in real life, some can be considered beautiful, some passing, and some ugly as sin. Whatever they do with it is their own affair. This is where I would not try to cite a law that says, “a man is not allowed to dress like a woman” or such. Who gives a damn if some poor old sexually starved schmuck decides to put on a short skirt and a tank top? Or who gives a damn if I were to have sex with my neighbor’s husband as long as all agreed to it? A threesome or a foursome may even be better. Whether all are females, males, or a mix, who cares?

The bottom line is, for my purposes, gender identity is for first-line approach and identification. After that, we really don’t care unless we want to get into bed with them. Then we try to sort it out on a personal basis regardless of lawful description or distinction.

Did I Say That I Like Sex?

I am not sure that you can tell by my postings, but I do like sex. I also love sex. Not that I am a sex machine, but I could go on like the Energizer Bunny. Even when I don’t feel horny, I could and would produce for my partner whatever is desired. Within reason, of course. For example, I do have some thoughts of being penetrated from behind and …

Well, I don’t want to get into that just yet, if ever. The thing is, there are many benign sexual scenarios that I have not experienced, such as threesomes, and so on. I would love to be given the opportunity. I would also go with a lot of D/S give and take from all directions.

Women could do just about anything to me that would not cause major bleeding, and the police to haul us off to rehabilitation via “Bruno the Steel” or “Helga the Horns”. In the most hidden parts of my kinky brain I can see that men could also do things to me, but with limitations as described above. I don’t really want to be hurt, but I don’t mind feeling the pain. I don’t really want to be used, but I don’t mind serving. I don’t want to volunteer, but I would love to be forced.

Of course, none the above is likely. I am not in that lifestyle, and my wife would never forgive me if I tried. So all I can do is read and write about it. Both are fun, neither are productive, but if I have a few hours to relax, that’s what I do. My ultimate sex is orgasm for me or for my partner in sex, or both. I have no limits on the condition or the number as long as it is what at least one of us wants and the other approves. At that point anything goes.

Maybe in my next life …

By the way, at the beginning of my blog I stated that everything I write that represents MW or me or the two of us is true. On rare occasions I presented fiction, but I stated clearly that it was fiction and strictly for entertainment.

Of course, I also do a lot of pontification, which is in a different category from actual events and fiction. It is based on my experiences, my education, my values, and my feelings. As such, it is neither right, nor wrong, but simply an opinion. A few months ago I toyed with the idea of doing no more postings, deleting the blog, or changing the theme. I realized then that I have a need to write. I decided that I would reduce my emphasis on the daily FLR situation, and include other topics to broaden the venue while not completely breaking with FLR. The ratio of these different ideas changes as my mood or needs change.