"I miss doing things with her. You know, personal things that meant a lot to both of us, loaded with sex …” I commented to him.My friend is still active, but he retired from law enforcement a few years ago. He knows more about right, wrong, guilt, compassion and bravery than I will ever know. He has helped more people than those who deserved it. But his time had come to reflect on it rather than continue. In that respect my current problems seem small. I still have a chance. His are limited.
He remained silent. I guess he figured that my statement did not warrant a response other than a nod. After a prolonged silence that even I determined to be too long under the circumstances, I added, “I just don’t want to hurt her by saying anything that would bring back the guilt. Not that she has anything to be guilty about. Just that, damn, she feels guilty about anything.”
He sipped his wine, and I did the same. The music at low volume went on, not really bolstering my well-being, rather, making me feel less capable of handling what went on.
After a long silence he began, “You’re not there yet, but will be. Wait till you must quit what you love to do.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When you spend much of your life doing something that you love to do, you want to die doing it. Don’t you?”
I had to think about that. I understood his words, but the deeper meaning needed time for me to resolve into understandable quantities. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die doing anything. Yet, I know, that I will die as we all do. His words struck me at my core.
“Why are you telling me this?” His silence following my question began to really annoy me, so I went to get some more wine. Even after I returned he was still silent. I have great respect for him, so I held back from telling him that he was pissing me off.
“What you expect and what you receive will rarely coincide,” he finally continued.
“Oh really, I would never have guessed.”
“Your sarcasm aside, why are you disappointed then?”
“I hope,” I responded in barely more than a whimper.
“Hope is a nice sentiment, but is no more than that.”
I knew that already, but I needed his remark to bop me on the head to remember it.
He continued, “I wake up with memories of situations. I think of them during the day. I don’t miss an hour without wanting to be back there solving other people’s problems. I was on a constant high. I feel that my life is over because I am handicapped this way. I know it would come to an end, but not this way. I don’t expect people to understand. Maybe you do.”
“I understand. I am almost there. I just did not realize it,” I said with compassion.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Limited Chances
My My Patriotic Friend and I were sharing some music and wine on a Sunday evening. Normally I would have been happy. Not this time. I was depressed. Things have been going wrong. Not in a big way, just not right, and I was expected to pick up the pieces. So I bitched about them,
Saturday, November 21, 2009
A Gift From Mistress Wife
We have children, all by the same parents: us.
One of them is a precious daughter. We saw her borne, MW very much involved with the physical part, I more in a supporting mode.
We have watched her develop into a lovely little girl.
As she grew, she transformed into a thorny but attractive young woman.
Over the years she developed into a mature beautiful woman.
At this point her beauty is eternal.
One of them is a precious daughter. We saw her borne, MW very much involved with the physical part, I more in a supporting mode.
We have watched her develop into a lovely little girl.
As she grew, she transformed into a thorny but attractive young woman.
Over the years she developed into a mature beautiful woman.
At this point her beauty is eternal.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Jumping to Conclusions
I almost always agree with Mistress Kathy’s blog. At The Colored Stick I agree to a certain extent, but I have a problem. I disagree when she says,
They don’t.
Some men do, but that is not the end of it. Some men feel satisfied being controlled by a system regardless of who the administrators or the rule makers are. Some are happy being controlled by other men. Some are happy being controlled by women. Some want to control. The same goes for women. The point of my objection is that men don’t have a natural need to be controlled! Some like to control, and will fight for it.
It is only the men who need to be controlled by women who “have this natural need”, which is a platitude.
I love to be controlled by a worthy woman. But I don’t necessarily want to be controlled by all women or by all or any men. I prefer to find my place and go with mutual agreements. I would have made a very bad slave in the ancient times.
I know that much of what we see in blogs and in fictional writing is not “logical conclusion based on facts”. Still, even a fictional story must be logical, otherwise it flops. The case in point here is that when we have a single demonstration of what works, it is illogical to extend it to others and expect it to work. In logic this means jumping from specific to general without a demonstrated rule. If it works with others, it is coincidence, and it is not necessarily because the assumptions were correct. No two relationships are the same. If one relationship works because of some agreed rules, it does not mean that others will.
I don't mean to lean on Mistress Kathy. Her blog is great, entertaining, instructive, and often exciting. But her case is just one out of many, and does not make rules.
“Why it is that men have this natural need to be controlled?”
They don’t.
Some men do, but that is not the end of it. Some men feel satisfied being controlled by a system regardless of who the administrators or the rule makers are. Some are happy being controlled by other men. Some are happy being controlled by women. Some want to control. The same goes for women. The point of my objection is that men don’t have a natural need to be controlled! Some like to control, and will fight for it.
It is only the men who need to be controlled by women who “have this natural need”, which is a platitude.
I love to be controlled by a worthy woman. But I don’t necessarily want to be controlled by all women or by all or any men. I prefer to find my place and go with mutual agreements. I would have made a very bad slave in the ancient times.
I know that much of what we see in blogs and in fictional writing is not “logical conclusion based on facts”. Still, even a fictional story must be logical, otherwise it flops. The case in point here is that when we have a single demonstration of what works, it is illogical to extend it to others and expect it to work. In logic this means jumping from specific to general without a demonstrated rule. If it works with others, it is coincidence, and it is not necessarily because the assumptions were correct. No two relationships are the same. If one relationship works because of some agreed rules, it does not mean that others will.
I don't mean to lean on Mistress Kathy. Her blog is great, entertaining, instructive, and often exciting. But her case is just one out of many, and does not make rules.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Before The Dawn
As I said before, I am a hopeless frigging romantic. So, here it is, listen to one of my favorite pieces.
Before The Dawn - by Judas Priest
The video does not really go with the lyrics. The lyrics match the mood of the music. It's a piece by which to die. Here are the lyrics:
Before The Dawn - by Judas Priest
The video does not really go with the lyrics. The lyrics match the mood of the music. It's a piece by which to die. Here are the lyrics:
Before the dawn, I hear you whisper
In your sleep "Don't let the morning take him"
Outside the birds begin to call
As if to summon up my leaving
It's been a lifetime since I found someone
Since I found someone who would stay
I've waited too long, and now you're leaving
Oh please don't take it all away
It's been a lifetime since I found someone
Since I found someone who would stay
I've waited too long, and now you're leaving
Oh please don't take it all away
Before the dawn, I hear you whisper
In your sleep "Don't let the morning take him"
Size
If you think this piece of writing is tongue-in-cheek you may be right. I know I have said some about this subject, but it is time again, given my propensity for self-abuse. No, I don’t mean masturbation. Masturbation is not abuse. What I mean is willingness to be subjected to mistreatment by my MW. Generally we don’t do much, but when we do it is significant. Actually, when I say “we”, I mean “she” for I am only the recipient of her doing. Not that I complain.
The only reason I bring this up is that once in a while she gets into the mood of imposing locked chastity on me. As kinky as I am, I love it. That is, until it becomes a real pain in the ah … you know. Ok, you may call me a pussy, you may call me a coward. Hell, you may call me anything as long as it is not too vulgar under the circumstances. But I have a problem. I don’t know whether my problem is representative of men in general. I will elaborate, and let you decide.
I have posted pictures of the little guy and his alter ego, the big guy, but most were when he or the other was in his glory. You know, large as life, so to speak. The boys go with it, again, so to speak. It turns out that the pictures had been during times of temperate season when the boys hang loose, and the little guy is in his element.
However, there are times when the temperature drops, such as in winter, and being in uniform (my natural state) provides no shelter from the change of temperature. What I experience is twofold. First, the little guy practically disappears. If you looked, you could see some skin with a Prince Albert ring being most prominent. Second, the boys practically disappear also. I know they are there, but not to be fondled or viewed in general. Oh, they all would come back upon sufficient provocation (actually you might want to stand back so that you are not knocked over by the reaction). But as is, they look very unimpressive. Maybe later I will post a picture here, just that, I would be somewhat embarrassed about it, and I would have to post the real looks next to it just to maintain some dignity.
This brings me to the purpose of this post. As much as I like the CBT associated with the forced wearing of a so-called chastity device, it cannot be 24/7 for a long time without suffering real damage. My parts are just too variable in size: near zero to, well, you have seen them. So, forget about taking my measurement to fit a device.
I know, somebody will come up with still another “greatest chastity device” and charge a month’s wage for it. Whether I will buy it depends on what MW might think of it. Meanwhile I experiment in my workshop and hope that I don’t seriously hurt myself on the next prototype. MW has not had to call the firemen to use the "jaws of life" on my devices yet, but as you know, stuff can happen. Sheesh, I would hate to meet someone I know professionally under those circumstances. Wish me luck.
Update
Here he is at half mast in warm weather.
Then there he is Somewhat handicapped but otherwise all there weighing in at seven inches from nose to tail. Not record breaking, but when you consider the difference in size between this and the first picture, you may realize the problem of defining "size" for chastity devices.
The only reason I bring this up is that once in a while she gets into the mood of imposing locked chastity on me. As kinky as I am, I love it. That is, until it becomes a real pain in the ah … you know. Ok, you may call me a pussy, you may call me a coward. Hell, you may call me anything as long as it is not too vulgar under the circumstances. But I have a problem. I don’t know whether my problem is representative of men in general. I will elaborate, and let you decide.
I have posted pictures of the little guy and his alter ego, the big guy, but most were when he or the other was in his glory. You know, large as life, so to speak. The boys go with it, again, so to speak. It turns out that the pictures had been during times of temperate season when the boys hang loose, and the little guy is in his element.
However, there are times when the temperature drops, such as in winter, and being in uniform (my natural state) provides no shelter from the change of temperature. What I experience is twofold. First, the little guy practically disappears. If you looked, you could see some skin with a Prince Albert ring being most prominent. Second, the boys practically disappear also. I know they are there, but not to be fondled or viewed in general. Oh, they all would come back upon sufficient provocation (actually you might want to stand back so that you are not knocked over by the reaction). But as is, they look very unimpressive. Maybe later I will post a picture here, just that, I would be somewhat embarrassed about it, and I would have to post the real looks next to it just to maintain some dignity.
This brings me to the purpose of this post. As much as I like the CBT associated with the forced wearing of a so-called chastity device, it cannot be 24/7 for a long time without suffering real damage. My parts are just too variable in size: near zero to, well, you have seen them. So, forget about taking my measurement to fit a device.
I know, somebody will come up with still another “greatest chastity device” and charge a month’s wage for it. Whether I will buy it depends on what MW might think of it. Meanwhile I experiment in my workshop and hope that I don’t seriously hurt myself on the next prototype. MW has not had to call the firemen to use the "jaws of life" on my devices yet, but as you know, stuff can happen. Sheesh, I would hate to meet someone I know professionally under those circumstances. Wish me luck.
Update
I have decided to be generous and include some pictures to which I alluded above. The first picture below shows him in his most diminished state.
Those of you who are embarrassed about having a small cock (not that you should be) may feel superior looking at this. After all, this little guy is just barely there.
Here he is at half mast in warm weather.Then there he is Somewhat handicapped but otherwise all there weighing in at seven inches from nose to tail. Not record breaking, but when you consider the difference in size between this and the first picture, you may realize the problem of defining "size" for chastity devices.
Monday, November 16, 2009
What Is Appropriate
First the disclaimer. I apologize for having borrowed these pictures from the internet. Although MW and I have done what is shown in the first picture many times, alas, we have had no camera men to commemorate the event. As a result, we don’t have a picture of us in this situation. The closest is at the top of my blog. In addition, I am not making rules here, just some comments.
In the spirit of a Female Led Relationship anything goes that the female wants. Given that, I have my preferences. Being on my knees serving her is totally appropriate. For example, look at the first picture.
If MW wants to do what I show in the second picture, it is entirely up to her. Even more, I would love to be the recipient. Just that, somehow it seems inappropriate unless it thrills her. Oh my! I could live with that. But don’t worry, she never does that, so we are back to the first picture as the appropriate thing to do.
In the spirit of a Female Led Relationship anything goes that the female wants. Given that, I have my preferences. Being on my knees serving her is totally appropriate. For example, look at the first picture.
If MW wants to do what I show in the second picture, it is entirely up to her. Even more, I would love to be the recipient. Just that, somehow it seems inappropriate unless it thrills her. Oh my! I could live with that. But don’t worry, she never does that, so we are back to the first picture as the appropriate thing to do.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Dominant or Domineering?
Please check the post at Difference Between Being Dominant And Domineering. This woman has it figured out. I was going to comment on her post in length, but came to my usual conclusion that I can do it more justice if I elaborate on it on my blog. I give her credit for my inspiration on this subject.
The domineering, whiney, and bitching people seldom make a good impression on peers or subjects. If they are mistakenly given a supervisory position, most of the coworkers despise them. A submissive may go along with it for a while if he is in need of repeated humiliation or craves crass and impersonal mistreatment. This is not a virtue or detriment of female or male characteristic. Any person of either gender has the same chance of making something of the position, or mucking it up beyond repair.
Much of the attitude has to do with confidence, and later on, the development of skill. Some never develop either, they just cash in on whatever someone made available to them. Then there are others who are borne with confidence, and learn the skill as necessary. On the long run, intelligence and compassion win, whereas, screaming and violence lose. One can be strict, formal, dominant, respectful, and loving without being vulgar or violent.
I have never dealt with professional dominas, so I am a bit handicapped with respect to evaluating their behavior. However, I have met some dominant women who had a way of getting their will done on the job. It was their attitude that convinced me that I would work for them under any circumstance. They could be leaders in any venue. They never had to scream or use obscenities or threats. They were just natural leaders.
I am not what anyone would call a submissive man. But that is just a matter of scale and situation. I have, and would again submit to others in a professional and political arena when I meet one who is above me in whatever stature is under consideration.
Then there is a matter of submitting to a worthy woman, which is my true directive in my life. In the latter case sex is very much part of it in my mind and my needs. Yet, it is not unconditional. She has to be intelligent, considerate, and rational, not necessarily sexy, young, wide, flat, or whatever. A screaming vulgar violent person gets her way with some, but with me she or he would meet resistance. Resistance is not a desirable trait of a willing submissive. Regardless of preferences, we must meet on agreeable terms.
Dominant people have a metaphorical stature of a cone or a pyramid: stable, reliable, and in no need of constant and repeated subjugation of their charges. Domineering people, on the other hand, tend to be the same, only their perceived stature is upside-down. Because of their unstable position they are constantly in need to reassure themselves, else they fail not only in their own esteem, but also in the eyes of their pitiable subjects.
The domineering, whiney, and bitching people seldom make a good impression on peers or subjects. If they are mistakenly given a supervisory position, most of the coworkers despise them. A submissive may go along with it for a while if he is in need of repeated humiliation or craves crass and impersonal mistreatment. This is not a virtue or detriment of female or male characteristic. Any person of either gender has the same chance of making something of the position, or mucking it up beyond repair.
Much of the attitude has to do with confidence, and later on, the development of skill. Some never develop either, they just cash in on whatever someone made available to them. Then there are others who are borne with confidence, and learn the skill as necessary. On the long run, intelligence and compassion win, whereas, screaming and violence lose. One can be strict, formal, dominant, respectful, and loving without being vulgar or violent.
I have never dealt with professional dominas, so I am a bit handicapped with respect to evaluating their behavior. However, I have met some dominant women who had a way of getting their will done on the job. It was their attitude that convinced me that I would work for them under any circumstance. They could be leaders in any venue. They never had to scream or use obscenities or threats. They were just natural leaders.
I am not what anyone would call a submissive man. But that is just a matter of scale and situation. I have, and would again submit to others in a professional and political arena when I meet one who is above me in whatever stature is under consideration.
Then there is a matter of submitting to a worthy woman, which is my true directive in my life. In the latter case sex is very much part of it in my mind and my needs. Yet, it is not unconditional. She has to be intelligent, considerate, and rational, not necessarily sexy, young, wide, flat, or whatever. A screaming vulgar violent person gets her way with some, but with me she or he would meet resistance. Resistance is not a desirable trait of a willing submissive. Regardless of preferences, we must meet on agreeable terms.
Dominant people have a metaphorical stature of a cone or a pyramid: stable, reliable, and in no need of constant and repeated subjugation of their charges. Domineering people, on the other hand, tend to be the same, only their perceived stature is upside-down. Because of their unstable position they are constantly in need to reassure themselves, else they fail not only in their own esteem, but also in the eyes of their pitiable subjects.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
The Other Washinton
I was reading Jokes/Balance at Arcanet while munching on my lunch. I don’t know how reliable the links remain over time, so I borrowed one that was just too precious to not share with all of you. Here it is.
God was missing for six days. Eventually, Michael, the archangel, found him, resting on the seventh day.He inquired of God. "Where have you been?"
God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction, and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds, "Look, Michael. Look what I've made."
Archangel Michael looked puzzled, and said, "What is it?"
"It's a planet," replied God, "and I've put Life on it. I'm going to call it Earth and it's going to be a great place of balance."
"Balance?" inquired Michael, still confused.
God explained, pointing to different parts of earth. "For example, northern Europe will be a place of great opportunity and wealth, while southern Europe is going to be poor. Over there I've placed a continent of white people, and over there is a continent of black people. Balance in all things," God continued pointing to different countries. "This one will be extremely hot, while this one will be very cold and covered in ice."
The Archangel, impressed by God's work, then pointed to a land area and said, "What's that one?"
"Ah," said God "That's Washington State, the most glorious place on earth. There are beautiful mountains, rivers and streams, lakes, forests, hills, plains, and coulees. The people from Washington State are going to be handsome, modest, intelligent, and humorous, and they are going to be found traveling the world. They will be extremely sociable, hardworking, high achieving, and they will be known throughout the world as diplomats, and carriers of peace."
Michael gasped in wonder and admiration, but then proclaimed, "What about balance, God? You said there would be balance."
God smiled, "There is another Washington...wait until you see the idiots I put there."
God was missing for six days. Eventually, Michael, the archangel, found him, resting on the seventh day.He inquired of God. "Where have you been?"
God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction, and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds, "Look, Michael. Look what I've made."
Archangel Michael looked puzzled, and said, "What is it?"
"It's a planet," replied God, "and I've put Life on it. I'm going to call it Earth and it's going to be a great place of balance."
"Balance?" inquired Michael, still confused.
God explained, pointing to different parts of earth. "For example, northern Europe will be a place of great opportunity and wealth, while southern Europe is going to be poor. Over there I've placed a continent of white people, and over there is a continent of black people. Balance in all things," God continued pointing to different countries. "This one will be extremely hot, while this one will be very cold and covered in ice."
The Archangel, impressed by God's work, then pointed to a land area and said, "What's that one?"
"Ah," said God "That's Washington State, the most glorious place on earth. There are beautiful mountains, rivers and streams, lakes, forests, hills, plains, and coulees. The people from Washington State are going to be handsome, modest, intelligent, and humorous, and they are going to be found traveling the world. They will be extremely sociable, hardworking, high achieving, and they will be known throughout the world as diplomats, and carriers of peace."
Michael gasped in wonder and admiration, but then proclaimed, "What about balance, God? You said there would be balance."
God smiled, "There is another Washington...wait until you see the idiots I put there."
Friday, November 13, 2009
Who You Callin' a Lady?
A woman by any other name is not necessarily a lady
Before I begin to dissect women, I want to give an idea of the terminology surrounding sexes. I will not be exhaustive in definitions, since anyone can look up the terms in his favorite reference site or book. I will just pick the one that seems to suit my purpose for the moment, and leave others for later.
Pertaining To Men, But Not Exclusively
Gentleman:
As you can see, the credentials and worthiness based on the above definitions range from “just fine” to, well, you know
Pertaining To Women
I will be slightly less irreverent defining the female gender, although the above definitions certainly apply from time to time.
Gentlewoman:
Where Do You Fit?
Male or female, I am curious about where you think yourself to be.
Let not this be a wish or a feeling. Rather, examine your behavior in normal circumstances, and rate yourself. Is there anything you would like to change about yourself?
Do you care how others classify you? I am not talking about isolated instances when some person with irrational expectations calls you names. That is not what you are. What you are is when you are alone and admit to yourself how you would behave under some circumstances.
Let’s hear it, dolls and guys, girls and boys, ladies and gentlemen! But please, remain civil in your comments.
Before I begin to dissect women, I want to give an idea of the terminology surrounding sexes. I will not be exhaustive in definitions, since anyone can look up the terms in his favorite reference site or book. I will just pick the one that seems to suit my purpose for the moment, and leave others for later.
Pertaining To Men, But Not Exclusively
Gentleman:
“A man whose conduct conforms to a high standard of propriety or correct behavior”. I may act gentlemanly from time to time, alas, I am not one. I would love to be, but at this point in my life I can’t justify the effort.Man:
“Human adult male”. I am one.Guy:
“A rope, chain, rod, or wire attached to something as a brace or guide”. Well, at least by Merriam-Webster. More appropriately, “A mostly adult man with some redeeming qualities”. Yeah, I have been called one often.Fellow:
“A member of a group having common characteristics”. You know, pair of balls, needing a shave, etc. Right. I have them all so far.Schmuck:
“Penis”. Need I say more? I feel like one from time to time, but I give myself more credit than to admit to being one full time.Jerk:
“An unlikable small-minded person”. Sheesh, I have been called that, but I don’t think I deserved it.Asshole:
Well, you can give your definition based on those whom you know. I know I have been called that, but, in my opinion, I never deserved it (well, maybe in very narrow circumstances). Then again, there are other opinions.
As you can see, the credentials and worthiness based on the above definitions range from “just fine” to, well, you know
Pertaining To Women
I will be slightly less irreverent defining the female gender, although the above definitions certainly apply from time to time.
Gentlewoman:
“A woman of refined manners and good breeding”. You will recognize one when you see her.Lady:
“A woman of refinement and gentle manners”. She is close to a gentlewoman. However, especially of late, the word has assumed a meaning much less than original, and no more than female. Alas, it is now expected that a man calls a female lady even if he means, “you stupid uneducated moronic bitch”. It is a shame, for there still are ladies around, and the honorific should be used with care.Woman:
“Adult female person”.Girl:
“A female servant or employee, an informal friendly, or demeaning meaning of woman”.Broad:
“Woman of character marked by lack of restraint, delicacy, or subtlety”. This may be verging on archaic usage, but I think it is a good description.Bitch:
“A malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman”. Even when I feel like it, I seldom use this. I just don’t have it in me.There are others, and some covered under “Pertaining To Men ...” may apply, but I think that I have covered the spectrum.
Where Do You Fit?
Male or female, I am curious about where you think yourself to be.
Let not this be a wish or a feeling. Rather, examine your behavior in normal circumstances, and rate yourself. Is there anything you would like to change about yourself?
Do you care how others classify you? I am not talking about isolated instances when some person with irrational expectations calls you names. That is not what you are. What you are is when you are alone and admit to yourself how you would behave under some circumstances.
Let’s hear it, dolls and guys, girls and boys, ladies and gentlemen! But please, remain civil in your comments.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
She Is Out Of Town Again
I dropped her off at her friend’s house. She and friend Laura planned to head north out of town. Laura, as usual, practically devoured me in her driveway as soon as we stopped and exited our vehicle. OK, I could do her, as in, “just about anything”. The problem with that would be MW, who definitely would disapprove. So, anything other than deep kissing for a few moments, and maybe a few feelies of voluptuous female (and male) parts is verboten. Shoot, on my way driving home I was inundated with her perfume, and couldn’t get it out of my mind. Once home, I dropped my shirt into the laundry chute so that I could relax. Her perfume became only a memory. Then, so was kissing MW on the lips before we parted. OK, for those of you who are attuned to pleasing females, I meant, “her upper lips”. Not that I would have refused to kiss her lower lips as we stood in Laura's driveway.
After returning home I did the usual. No, not the sexy parts. You know, taking care of animals and doing chores. Then I got to the sexy parts. Being a bachelor for a few days gave me the option of unlimited sex. Well, unlimited as long as I remained faithful. My right hand was duly drafted to do some sorely needed attention to the little guy. Then eating junk food, drinking whatever was available, listening to loud music ... We are far enough away from neigbors such that they are unlikely to call the Sheriff complaining about the noise. I think. I don’t want to go on account of I might tend to incriminate myself.
My neighbor, a lovely woman with the longest and most beautiful legs in the neighborhood (other than MW's of course) came across the road as I was picking up my mail. I may have had a drink or two before, since I have a vague memory of kissing her hand. During the conversation she had invited us to dinner this coming weekend, after MW’s return. Sheesh, I am a basket case when it comes to women.
I don’t know how I have been able to remain civil and detached in my various professional positions over the years. There have been no lawsuits, and my supervisors have not confronted me with complaints of unprofessional behavior, so I think that I managed somehow. But it is getting difficult. The older I get the more my vista opens: more females become attractive.
I have not shaved in a while. I guess I will have to do so before I collect MW upon her return to the city. Looking like a lumber jack months out of town may be offensive to some females. Imagine that! Although, I don't think that would slow down Laura.
And, oh yeah, maybe I should give the little guy a rest in case he were to be needed by MW for some unknown reason. After all, I am not famous for being multi-orgasmic. But I am willing to try. I often thought that I would have a future in pornographic movies, and regret not having tried. I had a good reason, though. You know, I would not want to be recognized on my day job. It would embarrass some of us.
After returning home I did the usual. No, not the sexy parts. You know, taking care of animals and doing chores. Then I got to the sexy parts. Being a bachelor for a few days gave me the option of unlimited sex. Well, unlimited as long as I remained faithful. My right hand was duly drafted to do some sorely needed attention to the little guy. Then eating junk food, drinking whatever was available, listening to loud music ... We are far enough away from neigbors such that they are unlikely to call the Sheriff complaining about the noise. I think. I don’t want to go on account of I might tend to incriminate myself.
My neighbor, a lovely woman with the longest and most beautiful legs in the neighborhood (other than MW's of course) came across the road as I was picking up my mail. I may have had a drink or two before, since I have a vague memory of kissing her hand. During the conversation she had invited us to dinner this coming weekend, after MW’s return. Sheesh, I am a basket case when it comes to women.
I don’t know how I have been able to remain civil and detached in my various professional positions over the years. There have been no lawsuits, and my supervisors have not confronted me with complaints of unprofessional behavior, so I think that I managed somehow. But it is getting difficult. The older I get the more my vista opens: more females become attractive.
I have not shaved in a while. I guess I will have to do so before I collect MW upon her return to the city. Looking like a lumber jack months out of town may be offensive to some females. Imagine that! Although, I don't think that would slow down Laura.
And, oh yeah, maybe I should give the little guy a rest in case he were to be needed by MW for some unknown reason. After all, I am not famous for being multi-orgasmic. But I am willing to try. I often thought that I would have a future in pornographic movies, and regret not having tried. I had a good reason, though. You know, I would not want to be recognized on my day job. It would embarrass some of us.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Grumbling On Female Superiority
I love the many variations of the message on a woman’s tee shirt, “I have the pussy, I make the rules.” It is so appropriate among people who wish to submit to a pussy! I am definitely one. However, I don’t want to generalize it to mean, “I have the pussy, so I am superior to you.” If it is your preference in your own relationship, then good for you. That's not necessarily so for the rest of us.
Much of what is said on the subjects of female supremacy and feminism is just passionate philosophical argument. I love philosophical arguments; I also like arguing using logic. Alas, logic, commenting on and writing about these subjects, is rarely there. What there is usually, is passion, and interpretation. None of that is generally wrong when we consider that we are simply expressing our feelings. Feelings are neither wrong nor right. Nevertheless, if logic is missing, any attempt at argument loses potency.
Before I get into the depth to which I want to cover this subject, I want to point out the following. Although they may coincide in narrow contexts, female supremacy and feminism are not the same thing.
I have worked with people of all sorts in a professional environment. I have run into rabid feminism and I did not like it. It was as bad as the so-called “macho man,” who assumed that he was in charge because he had balls. There are people who are leaders because they have the capability and the drive. Then there are others who pretend. Gender has nothing to do with it.
Some of the comments and blogs have to do with the evil of patriarchy. I have no problem with patriarchy. Neither do I have a problem with matriarchy. Either one works when it fits the situation. Just don’t try to impose one or the other when it is inappropriate, or to an extreme degree!
According to Merriam-Webster, feminism is “The theory of political, economical, and social equality of sexes.” My addition is to “promote such”. Feminism is a good idea when we try to give equal opportunity to females. Difficulty arises when we use “affirmative action” in a manner similar with respect race. One does no harm in promoting equality with respect to gender or race. This brings me to the other subject, which is female supremacy, including the assumed destruction of patriarchy. There are two reasons for my objection.
Reason one: anyone who wants to “destroy” something in order to replace it with his choice is going to meet resistance. Not everybody will think that the replacement will be better than the old thing. It would be better to promote the new idea, and let it take over on its merits. Forcing it onto others will meet with justified resistance.
Reason two: feminism was and is a good idea. Just as would be “masculinism” if it were necessary. Just don’t carry either to an extreme. Female supremacy, on the other hand, is based on gender. As such, it is fallacy. Give each person his or her chance to excel. Deal with people instead of gender.
Even though I am a dominant heterosexual male, I am willing to submit to a deserving female. My wife happens to be one. That does not mean that all females are worthy of my submission or that any are superior to me. It also means that I don’t take dominance over females in general because of my gender.
Human intelligence evolved encompassing “skull size”, “skin color”, “gender,” etc. It is not what you have, such as gender, size, etc., but what you do with what you have that makes the difference.
I have a quote that is attributed to Barbara Wright Abernathy, author of the book, Venus On Top: Women Who Are Born To Lead And The Men Who Love Them (From the now apparrently defunct blog, http://venusontop.blogspot.com/)
I could not have said it better. Let natural leaders lead, and submissives follow, regardless of gender!
Much of what is said on the subjects of female supremacy and feminism is just passionate philosophical argument. I love philosophical arguments; I also like arguing using logic. Alas, logic, commenting on and writing about these subjects, is rarely there. What there is usually, is passion, and interpretation. None of that is generally wrong when we consider that we are simply expressing our feelings. Feelings are neither wrong nor right. Nevertheless, if logic is missing, any attempt at argument loses potency.
Before I get into the depth to which I want to cover this subject, I want to point out the following. Although they may coincide in narrow contexts, female supremacy and feminism are not the same thing.
I have worked with people of all sorts in a professional environment. I have run into rabid feminism and I did not like it. It was as bad as the so-called “macho man,” who assumed that he was in charge because he had balls. There are people who are leaders because they have the capability and the drive. Then there are others who pretend. Gender has nothing to do with it.
Some of the comments and blogs have to do with the evil of patriarchy. I have no problem with patriarchy. Neither do I have a problem with matriarchy. Either one works when it fits the situation. Just don’t try to impose one or the other when it is inappropriate, or to an extreme degree!
According to Merriam-Webster, feminism is “The theory of political, economical, and social equality of sexes.” My addition is to “promote such”. Feminism is a good idea when we try to give equal opportunity to females. Difficulty arises when we use “affirmative action” in a manner similar with respect race. One does no harm in promoting equality with respect to gender or race. This brings me to the other subject, which is female supremacy, including the assumed destruction of patriarchy. There are two reasons for my objection.
Reason one: anyone who wants to “destroy” something in order to replace it with his choice is going to meet resistance. Not everybody will think that the replacement will be better than the old thing. It would be better to promote the new idea, and let it take over on its merits. Forcing it onto others will meet with justified resistance.
Reason two: feminism was and is a good idea. Just as would be “masculinism” if it were necessary. Just don’t carry either to an extreme. Female supremacy, on the other hand, is based on gender. As such, it is fallacy. Give each person his or her chance to excel. Deal with people instead of gender.
Even though I am a dominant heterosexual male, I am willing to submit to a deserving female. My wife happens to be one. That does not mean that all females are worthy of my submission or that any are superior to me. It also means that I don’t take dominance over females in general because of my gender.
Human intelligence evolved encompassing “skull size”, “skin color”, “gender,” etc. It is not what you have, such as gender, size, etc., but what you do with what you have that makes the difference.
I have a quote that is attributed to Barbara Wright Abernathy, author of the book, Venus On Top: Women Who Are Born To Lead And The Men Who Love Them (From the now apparrently defunct blog, http://venusontop.blogspot.com/)
“Freedom from the artificial restrictions of gender roles is underway and gathering momentum. However, the rise of the feminine does not mean the demise of the masculine. It means a new and healthier balance of power, and it bodes well for the future of the human race.”
I could not have said it better. Let natural leaders lead, and submissives follow, regardless of gender!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
What Do You Do With A Pussy?
Once in a while I encounter a glimpse or even an explicit picture of the female anatomy that rules my life. It has to be in context. For example, an explicit picture of a pussy in your face, spread for all to see, may under some circumstances be enticing. Most often it causes me an overload. Not that I actually encounter this often. OK, at least, not in person.
Men are wired to do things with female parts. If you are a man, and you don’t have an impulse to do something, then you are on one side of the spectrum versus the other. I am on the side that reacts with great appreciation and anticipation. I want to do things with female parts. The spectrum is multi-dimensional.
Sight is one of the dimensions. Certain views get my juices going. However, I like things in context. For example, I love to see a female bottom from any angle, from all angles. If possible, I like to see the full figure. Seeing the picture of a disembodied pussy, for example, to me, is little more than seeing a picture of one of those artificial vaginas no matter how realistic. There is no right or wrong here, it is a matter of preference. We will overlap in preferences, but we should never expect agreement on the details. These details are based on our early experiences, and will not go away. Mine are for voluptuous thighs. Of course, other parts are also welcome to any degree. Like I said, all in context.
Another dimension is smell. It is very basic. I can remember smells from when I was five years old. Smells are penetrating to my core. When I encounter MW early in the morning I search all her beautiful parts for rewarding scents emanating from her loveliness. I am usually satisfied with the result. She is clean, but several hours of sleep past a shower. Her natural scents give me reinforcement of her female charm. The taste of her skin, the scents under her arms, the wonderful warm place between her breasts, and the musky aroma in the vicinity of her nether lips have enslaved me forever.
Another dimension of appreciation is what she does with her charms. After wielding her looks, her scents, there is her power over me in dominance. As much as I prefer submitting to her, or a woman of her caliber, I admit that I could submit in almost any scenario to any woman. I am getting into fantasy here, so don’t take what I say literally under the circumstances.
Let’s say that I prefer very clean well-endowed females of a certain wide age range. Submitting to her would be easy. Next, let’s consider a female out of the above stated limits. For example, she is older, thinner, had not showered in the last few hours, etc. If she did the right thing in using what she has, I think that I would not have a chance fighting my way out of her charms. I would succumb.
Let’s get back to what I would prefer to do with a pussy. My first impulse is to plant my face on this precious part of female anatomy and enjoy the scents (this works even when she is wearing clothes). My eyes, if not blindfolded, are essentially useless at that close range, so I rely on my nose and tongue. My nose has already given me the jab to proceed by all means, so I can’t wait to include my tongue in the process. Oh my! The flavors are to die for. My lips get into the act, and I am totally immersed in pleasure.
Adding still another dimension is the feel of her thighs, hips, ass, legs, arms, or breasts while my tongue and nose are busy getting me off on her pleasure.
I don’t mean to get weird here, but in a Freudian sense it may be associated with my birth. In a way it is a primal memory.
I don’t mean to say that I never want to do penetrating sex with other than my tongue. Holy cow, I do, very much! Just that, my first impulse in treating a pussy is to give the owner pleasure using my tongue. If I succeed with that, whether or not I get mine is like dessert: optional.
Men are wired to do things with female parts. If you are a man, and you don’t have an impulse to do something, then you are on one side of the spectrum versus the other. I am on the side that reacts with great appreciation and anticipation. I want to do things with female parts. The spectrum is multi-dimensional.
Sight is one of the dimensions. Certain views get my juices going. However, I like things in context. For example, I love to see a female bottom from any angle, from all angles. If possible, I like to see the full figure. Seeing the picture of a disembodied pussy, for example, to me, is little more than seeing a picture of one of those artificial vaginas no matter how realistic. There is no right or wrong here, it is a matter of preference. We will overlap in preferences, but we should never expect agreement on the details. These details are based on our early experiences, and will not go away. Mine are for voluptuous thighs. Of course, other parts are also welcome to any degree. Like I said, all in context.
Another dimension is smell. It is very basic. I can remember smells from when I was five years old. Smells are penetrating to my core. When I encounter MW early in the morning I search all her beautiful parts for rewarding scents emanating from her loveliness. I am usually satisfied with the result. She is clean, but several hours of sleep past a shower. Her natural scents give me reinforcement of her female charm. The taste of her skin, the scents under her arms, the wonderful warm place between her breasts, and the musky aroma in the vicinity of her nether lips have enslaved me forever.
Another dimension of appreciation is what she does with her charms. After wielding her looks, her scents, there is her power over me in dominance. As much as I prefer submitting to her, or a woman of her caliber, I admit that I could submit in almost any scenario to any woman. I am getting into fantasy here, so don’t take what I say literally under the circumstances.
Let’s say that I prefer very clean well-endowed females of a certain wide age range. Submitting to her would be easy. Next, let’s consider a female out of the above stated limits. For example, she is older, thinner, had not showered in the last few hours, etc. If she did the right thing in using what she has, I think that I would not have a chance fighting my way out of her charms. I would succumb.
Let’s get back to what I would prefer to do with a pussy. My first impulse is to plant my face on this precious part of female anatomy and enjoy the scents (this works even when she is wearing clothes). My eyes, if not blindfolded, are essentially useless at that close range, so I rely on my nose and tongue. My nose has already given me the jab to proceed by all means, so I can’t wait to include my tongue in the process. Oh my! The flavors are to die for. My lips get into the act, and I am totally immersed in pleasure.
Adding still another dimension is the feel of her thighs, hips, ass, legs, arms, or breasts while my tongue and nose are busy getting me off on her pleasure.
I don’t mean to get weird here, but in a Freudian sense it may be associated with my birth. In a way it is a primal memory.
I don’t mean to say that I never want to do penetrating sex with other than my tongue. Holy cow, I do, very much! Just that, my first impulse in treating a pussy is to give the owner pleasure using my tongue. If I succeed with that, whether or not I get mine is like dessert: optional.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Chastity Control With Pain
Well, maybe not on purpose, but chastity devices do come with pain. Regardless of the type, from time to time, pain of the wearer is involved. Does the key holder know? Does she care? Would she cause the pain on purpose?
There is an inherent flaw in the design of the devices generic to the CBX000 and the like. The flaw is the need to keep the balls separated from the cock making sure that no parts can be withdrawn. Regardless of what configuration one selects, one problem may be alleviated, but another will be created. No pair of balls and cock are the same, and no such set will behave the way another would. No two individuals feel the same about the confinement. The conclusion is, you should not expect the CBX000 to fix your problems without causing its own problems. In addition to the generic flaw, there are flaws in the manufacturing process, such as cracks, and protuberances.
When a keyholder decides to incarcerate her submissive in such device, she may not know the implications at first. Aside from all the hype and testimonials of how it makes men docile and more willing to serve, there are other issues. The issues range from vindictive and purposefully cruel application of the device to benign orgasm control with passion for the poor schmuck who is the recipient.
I have gone through some bad experiences wearing them, and I am sure that MW has no idea how it felt. I did tell her some of it, but, as you know, “You just had to be there,” as such. MW is not cruel, and I don’t think that she would make me wear such device if it really caused me obvious harm or extreme pain. But then there is moderate pain. I, as a submissive to her, should expect to bear at least moderate pain from time to time. The CBX000 never caused continuous pain, but it did cause more than moderate pain from time to time. I never complained, although I was close to doing so many times.
Should I have complained? Should I have been subjected to such pain only for fun when MW was not even aware of my condition?
In a way I think that I should shut up and put up. I did sign up to this relationship, and I got some of what I asked for. If it is more than I expected, maybe it is something that goes with the territory. I get some joy, I should get some pain also. As much as I would love to, I should not expect MW to feel everything that I feel, especially the pain.
I am probably being a sissy complaining about this. Still, I would prefer a chastity device that would simply keep me chaste, but would not get too much in the way in other respects. I have done some research. During the course I have seen quite a variety of devices along with testimonials and evaluations. Mostly because of the expense we have not tried them. After all we could spend thousands of dollars and barely sample the available devices.
There are the belt type devices that purport to be escape proof and yet comfortable. It may be so, but then issues with personal hygiene and key holder involvement come up.
The devices that rely on a Prince Albert piercing almost assure chastity, such as Miss Lori’s excellent products. But they come with their own problems of ill-fit. In my case, my little guy varies in size from miniscule to huge in both length and girth depending on temperature and provocation. Given that, almost any device that is supposed to fit over it would be only part time fitting. There is no way that I can give accurate and correct measurement to order the device.
There is the one that uses a penetrating part to keep one chaste, but that too, is reliant on sizing, so there is a problem from time to time, unless it is used only for play under some benign circumstances.
Should I expect painless control? Or should I expect pain to be part of chastity for my Mistress Wife?
There is an inherent flaw in the design of the devices generic to the CBX000 and the like. The flaw is the need to keep the balls separated from the cock making sure that no parts can be withdrawn. Regardless of what configuration one selects, one problem may be alleviated, but another will be created. No pair of balls and cock are the same, and no such set will behave the way another would. No two individuals feel the same about the confinement. The conclusion is, you should not expect the CBX000 to fix your problems without causing its own problems. In addition to the generic flaw, there are flaws in the manufacturing process, such as cracks, and protuberances.
When a keyholder decides to incarcerate her submissive in such device, she may not know the implications at first. Aside from all the hype and testimonials of how it makes men docile and more willing to serve, there are other issues. The issues range from vindictive and purposefully cruel application of the device to benign orgasm control with passion for the poor schmuck who is the recipient.
I have gone through some bad experiences wearing them, and I am sure that MW has no idea how it felt. I did tell her some of it, but, as you know, “You just had to be there,” as such. MW is not cruel, and I don’t think that she would make me wear such device if it really caused me obvious harm or extreme pain. But then there is moderate pain. I, as a submissive to her, should expect to bear at least moderate pain from time to time. The CBX000 never caused continuous pain, but it did cause more than moderate pain from time to time. I never complained, although I was close to doing so many times.
Should I have complained? Should I have been subjected to such pain only for fun when MW was not even aware of my condition?
In a way I think that I should shut up and put up. I did sign up to this relationship, and I got some of what I asked for. If it is more than I expected, maybe it is something that goes with the territory. I get some joy, I should get some pain also. As much as I would love to, I should not expect MW to feel everything that I feel, especially the pain.
I am probably being a sissy complaining about this. Still, I would prefer a chastity device that would simply keep me chaste, but would not get too much in the way in other respects. I have done some research. During the course I have seen quite a variety of devices along with testimonials and evaluations. Mostly because of the expense we have not tried them. After all we could spend thousands of dollars and barely sample the available devices.
There are the belt type devices that purport to be escape proof and yet comfortable. It may be so, but then issues with personal hygiene and key holder involvement come up.
The devices that rely on a Prince Albert piercing almost assure chastity, such as Miss Lori’s excellent products. But they come with their own problems of ill-fit. In my case, my little guy varies in size from miniscule to huge in both length and girth depending on temperature and provocation. Given that, almost any device that is supposed to fit over it would be only part time fitting. There is no way that I can give accurate and correct measurement to order the device.
There is the one that uses a penetrating part to keep one chaste, but that too, is reliant on sizing, so there is a problem from time to time, unless it is used only for play under some benign circumstances.
Should I expect painless control? Or should I expect pain to be part of chastity for my Mistress Wife?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
If You Can't Take A Joke ...
In my Army days we used to have a solution to a potentially disintegrating personal relationship among ourselves. We would say, “If you can’t take a joke, f*** you.” It was meant with all the warmth and camaraderie that we possessed, and meant no more than a dismissal of another person’s taking offense at a rib or a joke. We lived hard, we joked hard, and we had hard fun.
I have always promoted satire as a way to offer humor, and yet convey an underlying meaning. Jokes and satire are successful only when based on reality. As a consequence, some people who consider themselves the butt of the joke or the object of the satire can’t live with it. Well, satire hurts only when it hits home, otherwise it is funny … sort of. After all, there is wry humor. Some people just cannot take a joke, and even worse, cannot tolerate satire. That is sad, for much of satire is of political nature, and politics are fun.
A person made a comment on my previous post, he said,
This post was indeed satirical. It did not present real scenarios, but situations based on currently very real scenarios. The comment about “…you shouldn't mix looney neocon politics with a fetish blog”, well, who makes the rules? You, the reader, or I?
This person was disappointed because I had not provided enough fetish as expected. Instead of fetish, I provided some thought provoking ideas. This is not a fetish blog. However, even if it were a fetish blog, I could post anything I wanted as long as what I am writing is not illegal or slanderous. I am not promoting harm to any person. I am not fomenting discontent with any person, organization, or entity. I am making comments. This is my turf. If you cannot contain your reaction to my writing, I suggest you start your own and try to counteract what you see here.
I have written on many subjects, and may continue to do so. I have nothing against politics or any other subject. I can elaborate on and debate any subject unless it requires distinct and expert knowledge outside of my field, such as quantum physics, etc. Comments are welcome as long as they are civil. One can disagree without resorting to bad manners.
Those of us who follow current events, national and global politics and trends, will have opinions on them. If your opinion differs from mine I don’t consider you a lesser person because of it. I don’t expect that everyone will see things my way in politics or in the basic charter of this blog, “Female Led Relationship”. I am vocal about all that. Let’s discuss the subjects, rather than take offense and react inappropriately.
It is also proper to share certain beliefs and attributes, yet disagree on others. That is what makes interacting with people interesting.
I have always promoted satire as a way to offer humor, and yet convey an underlying meaning. Jokes and satire are successful only when based on reality. As a consequence, some people who consider themselves the butt of the joke or the object of the satire can’t live with it. Well, satire hurts only when it hits home, otherwise it is funny … sort of. After all, there is wry humor. Some people just cannot take a joke, and even worse, cannot tolerate satire. That is sad, for much of satire is of political nature, and politics are fun.
A person made a comment on my previous post, he said,
“This must be the dumbest thing I've read in a long time. I hope this article was satire. If not, you were very irresponsible in all your assertions as they were all spin jobs. Hence, maybe you shouldn't mix looney neocon politics with a fetish blog. Although, considering the history of neoconservative politicians in the last eight years, I suppose neocon polotics and fetish go hand in hand..ex-Senator Craig and ex-Rep Marc Foley can attest to that, as they know all about it.”I did not let the above become a comment on the post, because, I did not want to embarrass the person by allowing his ID to be associated with it. However, because his comment had such passion, I felt that it should be aired, so here it is.
This post was indeed satirical. It did not present real scenarios, but situations based on currently very real scenarios. The comment about “…you shouldn't mix looney neocon politics with a fetish blog”, well, who makes the rules? You, the reader, or I?
This person was disappointed because I had not provided enough fetish as expected. Instead of fetish, I provided some thought provoking ideas. This is not a fetish blog. However, even if it were a fetish blog, I could post anything I wanted as long as what I am writing is not illegal or slanderous. I am not promoting harm to any person. I am not fomenting discontent with any person, organization, or entity. I am making comments. This is my turf. If you cannot contain your reaction to my writing, I suggest you start your own and try to counteract what you see here.
I have written on many subjects, and may continue to do so. I have nothing against politics or any other subject. I can elaborate on and debate any subject unless it requires distinct and expert knowledge outside of my field, such as quantum physics, etc. Comments are welcome as long as they are civil. One can disagree without resorting to bad manners.
Those of us who follow current events, national and global politics and trends, will have opinions on them. If your opinion differs from mine I don’t consider you a lesser person because of it. I don’t expect that everyone will see things my way in politics or in the basic charter of this blog, “Female Led Relationship”. I am vocal about all that. Let’s discuss the subjects, rather than take offense and react inappropriately.
It is also proper to share certain beliefs and attributes, yet disagree on others. That is what makes interacting with people interesting.
Friday, October 30, 2009
The Anti-Aging Initiative
A few months ago I paid tribute to My Patriotic Friend. He is still around, and keeps writing in his ornery acerbic style when it comes to the foolishness of our elected representatives. The following is one of his tongue-in-cheek spoofs but with a bite.
After years of studying data on Medicare recipients it has been determined that aging is a major cause of death by far while wasting a lot of medical care on those who would die anyway.
Whereas Medicare is essentially defunct, and that today’s, tomorrow’s, and (the day after tomorrow’s) earnings will be heavily taxed to pay for it, an effective way has to be found to reduce the cost. It is already known that the newly proposed National Health Care plan will not have the funds to bail out Medicare. Therefore, an Anti Aging Tsar has been appointed by the benevolent, omniscient, and omnipotent leader.
The charter of this Anti Aging Tsar is to reduce the toll taken by aging, and therefore, reduce the cost of supporting those who remain alive.
A number of methods are under consideration. Since a national lottery for medical health is already part of the National Health Care plan, a natural extension of that is the national lottery for aging. To wit, health care will be dealt based on your National Health Care lottery winning: if you win, you get something (undisclosed). If you lose, you get nothing, but you may try the lottery again later. In a somewhat similar fashion, in the Anti Aging agenda, there would be a national lottery for aging: if you win, you will be allowed to age. If you lose, you may try again, but with some limitations.
The anti aging cutoff age at the start is 65, and it is expected that the age will be lowered as the office runs out of money on account of the Dollar not being worth as much as it used to be in view of the large sums printed lately. Since the purpose is anti aging, any method to prevent aging will be considered. On the menu of limiting aging are (1) withholding medical care, (2) freezing Social Security benefits at the 2008 level. In addition, in the spirit of green earth the cooling of homes in the summer, and heating of homes in the winter for those over the cutoff age will be limited, unless they are members of the Congress or the Presidency.
On the positive side, anybody past the anti aging cutoff age will be given a National Health Care lottery ticket for every eight hours of volunteer work in hazardous waste cleanup, picking up trash left by illegal aliens crossing the desert as they are escaping from the US, and bailing out the rising level of the oceans due to the global warming trend.
The water bailed out of the oceans will be used to run electrical generation equipment in support of renewable energy. The provided electricity will be offered to emerging nations who have not yet, and are not planning to sign up to the green earth policy in order to offset the amount of the pollution they rightfully produce as a result of the USA outsourcing all former manufacturing and power generation due to the “Cap-And-Tax” bill passed by our congress. Oldsters are also encouraged to emigrate to emerging nations so as to reduce the burden on our Medicare and National Health Care.
Since savings, investments, IRA’s, retirement funds, pensions, and Social Security benefits have become worthless, retired people are encouraged to find jobs in the service industry formerly held by illegal aliens. Illegal aliens are returning to their native countries in hordes. The former third world countries’ economy is now picking up due to outsourcing from the US.
Because of the severe environmental impact fees imposed on our former agricultural producers, all of our food is now produced south of the border. Oldsters are further encouraged to get jobs in the now up and coming industries in Mexico, Central, and South America. Be warned, however, that the US-Mexican border is now heavily guarded by the Federales against Gringos, and Mexico does not accept any legal entries for now. The waiting list for work visas is booked until the year 2050. However, there are still openings in Honduras, Venezuela, and Cuba, plus some other countries on a smaller scale.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Pajamas -- Or Not?
The last time I remember wearing pajamas was while I was still living with my parents. It was polite to have something on when wandering through the house for a cup of coffee in the morning. This was just before I was snagged by a beautiful female to be her mate for the rest of her life.
After the above snagging I still had my pajamas, but somehow this sexy woman and I couldn’t make good use of it. I was without it more often than with. She was shyer than I, so she managed to grab things like, gowns, towels, and long wide shirts while traversing the treacherous route between the bedroom and the bathroom as my lecherous eyes followed all of her voluptuous curves. I suppose that pajamas would not have detracted from her attraction, yet, in view of the climatic uselessness of it, the evolution worked perfectly. We somehow lost our pajamas over the years.
I recorded part of a radio talk show early this year. I was just listening to a portion of it when I heard one of the commercials hawking a “pajama-gram”. In it the announcer stated, “When your love receives it as a Valentine’s Day gift, she will be the happiest woman in your life”. Hm. MW would have me wear it if I succumbed to the temptation to buy it for her.
We live in a warm climate. I wonder how many of those they sell around here. Sure, we have winters when the temperature plummets to about freezing from time to time. Unless the wind blows, we leave a window open in the bedroom at night anyway. We use several blankets and some cats for warmth while sleeping. The result is that I really don’t need more than just a tee shirt to keep me warm. MW still puts on a short nightgown during the winter nights. That’s fine. When we decide to cuddle, it is very easy to pull off, and open her warmth to mine. During other than winter nights, forget clothing!
We use air conditioning, as in “refrigeration”, only during the humid days of summer, but we seldom use it at night. So, pajamas, as such, are somewhat a non-issue for us. We don’t need it for modesty, and don’t want it for warmth.
Some years ago we settled into our Female Led Relationship. One of its requirements was that I develop my natural state, and maintain it. I have talked about my natural state before, so it’s no news: naked as I was borne. We also call it “my uniform”. The first thing I do whenever I return from being out is to get into my uniform. You have it: it means reverting to my natural state. The only other time I have to get dressed are when we have children or guests in the house.
During the day, MW dresses as she wishes, being dressed most of the time. In the heat of summer, however, she is often without clothes while indoors. This is not to be taken as being completely naked: she prefers to wear at least sports bras to keep her lovelies comfortable.
On the long run we have a nice benefit: we save water, laundry soap, clothing, and electricity. Of course, that is not the primary purpose, just a side effect. I feel good being in my natural state. MW is not that free, but she is working on it. As it should be, her comfort comes first.
After the above snagging I still had my pajamas, but somehow this sexy woman and I couldn’t make good use of it. I was without it more often than with. She was shyer than I, so she managed to grab things like, gowns, towels, and long wide shirts while traversing the treacherous route between the bedroom and the bathroom as my lecherous eyes followed all of her voluptuous curves. I suppose that pajamas would not have detracted from her attraction, yet, in view of the climatic uselessness of it, the evolution worked perfectly. We somehow lost our pajamas over the years.
I recorded part of a radio talk show early this year. I was just listening to a portion of it when I heard one of the commercials hawking a “pajama-gram”. In it the announcer stated, “When your love receives it as a Valentine’s Day gift, she will be the happiest woman in your life”. Hm. MW would have me wear it if I succumbed to the temptation to buy it for her.
We live in a warm climate. I wonder how many of those they sell around here. Sure, we have winters when the temperature plummets to about freezing from time to time. Unless the wind blows, we leave a window open in the bedroom at night anyway. We use several blankets and some cats for warmth while sleeping. The result is that I really don’t need more than just a tee shirt to keep me warm. MW still puts on a short nightgown during the winter nights. That’s fine. When we decide to cuddle, it is very easy to pull off, and open her warmth to mine. During other than winter nights, forget clothing!
We use air conditioning, as in “refrigeration”, only during the humid days of summer, but we seldom use it at night. So, pajamas, as such, are somewhat a non-issue for us. We don’t need it for modesty, and don’t want it for warmth.
Some years ago we settled into our Female Led Relationship. One of its requirements was that I develop my natural state, and maintain it. I have talked about my natural state before, so it’s no news: naked as I was borne. We also call it “my uniform”. The first thing I do whenever I return from being out is to get into my uniform. You have it: it means reverting to my natural state. The only other time I have to get dressed are when we have children or guests in the house.
During the day, MW dresses as she wishes, being dressed most of the time. In the heat of summer, however, she is often without clothes while indoors. This is not to be taken as being completely naked: she prefers to wear at least sports bras to keep her lovelies comfortable.
On the long run we have a nice benefit: we save water, laundry soap, clothing, and electricity. Of course, that is not the primary purpose, just a side effect. I feel good being in my natural state. MW is not that free, but she is working on it. As it should be, her comfort comes first.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Giving Pleasure
I don’t know whether it is my kinky yearning to please a woman, or just the way we are. Some of us just want to please.
I am no altruistic saint who will give and not take. Trust me, I will take, whatever is available. Being constantly horny and male gives me an incentive and the tools to do a lot of … OK, I could do some damage just by being myself. I learned over my many years that, there is no take without give, and no give without take. Of course, that excludes psychopathic activity. I am talking normal kink here, whatever that may be.
I was thinking of a close friend we have. She is single and without a significant other. I know that MW owns me, and that I can’t and won’t try to form sexual relationships with anyone. Still, I have the means to give pleasure that is positive.
Let me elaborate on this. In a theoretically sterile situation, I could be delivered to this sweet and lovely woman’s doorstep, and left for her use. She would pull me in by my balls, and have me give her a bath with slick soapy lotions. After I dried her and helped her into bed with a sexy video to watch she would have me use her bath water to cleanse myself so that I would be pristine for her subsequent use.
As she watched the movie she would begin to favor her private parts. Her tits would get attention, her nether lips the same. When she had enough self gratification, she would call me. I have hands, lips, cock, and some halfway decent looking male muscles to give her anything that she needs. We would use all that, but toward the end it would be my tongue that she preferred. It is skilled, clean, and well educated to give her pleasure. At this point I would be detached as far as my own pleasure was concerned. My purpose would be to please her, and I did. She would take all that she is able, and then push me away.
Sounds pure and altruistic?
Yeah, right!
I would not exactly orgasm over it, but damn, I would enjoy the hell out of it! With her scent on my face, I could start an orgy if I walked into the conference room at work.
Was I giving pleasure, or was I taking it?
Was anything lost in the process, as in using up resources?
Could it be repeated without cost?
Was anything wasted if none of these happened?
Would anything be hurt if this actually took place?
Damn! We are really wasting a lot of potential. Of course, MW might not see it that way, so this is not going to happen.
I am no altruistic saint who will give and not take. Trust me, I will take, whatever is available. Being constantly horny and male gives me an incentive and the tools to do a lot of … OK, I could do some damage just by being myself. I learned over my many years that, there is no take without give, and no give without take. Of course, that excludes psychopathic activity. I am talking normal kink here, whatever that may be.
I was thinking of a close friend we have. She is single and without a significant other. I know that MW owns me, and that I can’t and won’t try to form sexual relationships with anyone. Still, I have the means to give pleasure that is positive.
Let me elaborate on this. In a theoretically sterile situation, I could be delivered to this sweet and lovely woman’s doorstep, and left for her use. She would pull me in by my balls, and have me give her a bath with slick soapy lotions. After I dried her and helped her into bed with a sexy video to watch she would have me use her bath water to cleanse myself so that I would be pristine for her subsequent use.
As she watched the movie she would begin to favor her private parts. Her tits would get attention, her nether lips the same. When she had enough self gratification, she would call me. I have hands, lips, cock, and some halfway decent looking male muscles to give her anything that she needs. We would use all that, but toward the end it would be my tongue that she preferred. It is skilled, clean, and well educated to give her pleasure. At this point I would be detached as far as my own pleasure was concerned. My purpose would be to please her, and I did. She would take all that she is able, and then push me away.
Sounds pure and altruistic?
Yeah, right!
I would not exactly orgasm over it, but damn, I would enjoy the hell out of it! With her scent on my face, I could start an orgy if I walked into the conference room at work.
Was I giving pleasure, or was I taking it?
Was anything lost in the process, as in using up resources?
Could it be repeated without cost?
Was anything wasted if none of these happened?
Would anything be hurt if this actually took place?
Damn! We are really wasting a lot of potential. Of course, MW might not see it that way, so this is not going to happen.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Autumn Leaves
Regardless of what people call me I am a romantic. I don't write or read much poetry, but I appreciate creativity.
I have a collection of love songs that has cost me a fortune. As I write this I am listening to “I’ll Go On Loving You” by Alan Jackson. I could cry. Just before this I heard “Autumn Leaves” by Nat King Cole. Not my favorite rendition, but good just the same. As I get older, I am more in tune with my love, my life, my wife, the one I refer to as “MW” on this blog.
All love songs begin and end with her.
There are two primal senses that do me great potential harm, and yet thrill me more than others. One is the sense of smell. Scents from my lover grab me by my balls, so to speak, like nothing else will. The other is more of a wide-spectrum interference: music. OK, music is not a primal sense, except when I limit my aural input to love songs. Holy Cow! I could die listening to some of these songs, and probably will with any luck. My list of songs is essentially endless. It spans styles, motifs, fashions, centuries, and so on. When I find one that is beautiful, I keep it so that I can play it again. That accounts for my extensive CD library.
Strangely, I don’t know when or where I find one that grabs me as I said before. It could be anything, anywhere. For example, “Wednesday’s Child” by Matt Monroe. It is just a silly theme song from a long-defunct TV series. Yet, it penetrates me like many of the others. By the way, I am a "Wednesday's child".
My computer goes on to play others. Right now it is playing “What Love Is” by Marty Balin. Damn, it’s good.
Then there are other memories brought back from my combat days by “Who Will Stop The Rain” produced by Credence Clearwater Revival. Not exactly a love song, but penetrating and memorable nevertheless. When all else fails, music will come through.
I have a collection of love songs that has cost me a fortune. As I write this I am listening to “I’ll Go On Loving You” by Alan Jackson. I could cry. Just before this I heard “Autumn Leaves” by Nat King Cole. Not my favorite rendition, but good just the same. As I get older, I am more in tune with my love, my life, my wife, the one I refer to as “MW” on this blog.
All love songs begin and end with her.
There are two primal senses that do me great potential harm, and yet thrill me more than others. One is the sense of smell. Scents from my lover grab me by my balls, so to speak, like nothing else will. The other is more of a wide-spectrum interference: music. OK, music is not a primal sense, except when I limit my aural input to love songs. Holy Cow! I could die listening to some of these songs, and probably will with any luck. My list of songs is essentially endless. It spans styles, motifs, fashions, centuries, and so on. When I find one that is beautiful, I keep it so that I can play it again. That accounts for my extensive CD library.
Strangely, I don’t know when or where I find one that grabs me as I said before. It could be anything, anywhere. For example, “Wednesday’s Child” by Matt Monroe. It is just a silly theme song from a long-defunct TV series. Yet, it penetrates me like many of the others. By the way, I am a "Wednesday's child".
My computer goes on to play others. Right now it is playing “What Love Is” by Marty Balin. Damn, it’s good.
Then there are other memories brought back from my combat days by “Who Will Stop The Rain” produced by Credence Clearwater Revival. Not exactly a love song, but penetrating and memorable nevertheless. When all else fails, music will come through.
Emergency Room Thoughts
On the night of the scorpion's sting MW did suggest that we might mosey over to the ER in case my throat constriction gets to be serious. Being cocky, I suggested, “If I’m going to die of this reaction to the scorp’s sting, I may as well die at home in relative comfort as opposed to sitting in the hospital awaiting attention."
Some years ago I took MW to an emergency room with symptoms of something that we thought required immediate attention. Being in the middle of the night, it seemed appropriate. Once there, the first thing I had to figure out was where to park my car so that it is not towed away. I suppose, if we had just walked in without a car that part would have been easier.
Once in, I looked for a place for MW to sit. I found one on the floor against a wall. Standing behind a line of customers for a while I was finally allowed to talk with a bouncer. Well, maybe she was not going to bounce me, but she was between me and the medics for good. I had to produce some identification, and proof of insurance. Then I was allowed to explain the nature of the emergency. She pointed to the full waiting room, and said, “We’ll call you in turn.”
After a while one of the customers may have gone to find a bathroom, so MW got a chance to sit in a hard backed chair. I continued standing. A young man was sitting next to me. His leg was bleeding onto the floor through some makeshift bandages. Teenagers were coughing up lungs, older folks appeared to be in coma, and snot-nosed little beggars were spreading their disease without supervision. I thought, Maybe next time I should call an ambulance. Their patients may get priority. I found out later that arriving in an ambulance makes no difference with respect to the waiting queue. The only thing it assures is a relatively comfortable wait as opposed to sharing disease with the awaiting masses. About three hours into the wait MW was taken to one of the triage rooms.
I don’t have the federal law in my sight, so I am unsure of the actual statute that dictates private hospitals to provide emergency care to anyone, regardless of ability to pay. The fact is, however, that people of limited means use the hospital emergency rooms for routine medical needs: when one of the twelve little rug rats has diarrhea, they drag the entire family to the ER and spread it around.
We live in a border state, so the situation is as I described. I did not actually count, but it appeared that about seventy percent of the customers in the ER were from south of the border. What happens is that the hospital, a privately financed institution to make money for their investors, must treat anybody who stumbles over their threshold. In spite of that, I was practically frisked to make sure that I could pay for any care that my wife may receive. The reason for that is, somebody has to pay for the free medical care for the so-called indigent, read that as “illegal alien”. The hospital is in business to make money. Without payments, they quickly go out of business. The government does not pay for this free medical care for the indigent, whereas, somebody must. That is were you and I come in. That is why insurance premiums are high or unaffordable to some.
With the entire medical care overhaul that is being kicked around in the US Congress, those idiots are just working on the symptoms. They can twist their rules any way, but it is not going to provide better medical care for less money, which is what they are trying to shove down the taxpayers' throat. Don’t get me started!
Fixing the problem, as opposed to the symptoms, would be as follows:
Some years ago I took MW to an emergency room with symptoms of something that we thought required immediate attention. Being in the middle of the night, it seemed appropriate. Once there, the first thing I had to figure out was where to park my car so that it is not towed away. I suppose, if we had just walked in without a car that part would have been easier.
Once in, I looked for a place for MW to sit. I found one on the floor against a wall. Standing behind a line of customers for a while I was finally allowed to talk with a bouncer. Well, maybe she was not going to bounce me, but she was between me and the medics for good. I had to produce some identification, and proof of insurance. Then I was allowed to explain the nature of the emergency. She pointed to the full waiting room, and said, “We’ll call you in turn.”
After a while one of the customers may have gone to find a bathroom, so MW got a chance to sit in a hard backed chair. I continued standing. A young man was sitting next to me. His leg was bleeding onto the floor through some makeshift bandages. Teenagers were coughing up lungs, older folks appeared to be in coma, and snot-nosed little beggars were spreading their disease without supervision. I thought, Maybe next time I should call an ambulance. Their patients may get priority. I found out later that arriving in an ambulance makes no difference with respect to the waiting queue. The only thing it assures is a relatively comfortable wait as opposed to sharing disease with the awaiting masses. About three hours into the wait MW was taken to one of the triage rooms.
I don’t have the federal law in my sight, so I am unsure of the actual statute that dictates private hospitals to provide emergency care to anyone, regardless of ability to pay. The fact is, however, that people of limited means use the hospital emergency rooms for routine medical needs: when one of the twelve little rug rats has diarrhea, they drag the entire family to the ER and spread it around.
We live in a border state, so the situation is as I described. I did not actually count, but it appeared that about seventy percent of the customers in the ER were from south of the border. What happens is that the hospital, a privately financed institution to make money for their investors, must treat anybody who stumbles over their threshold. In spite of that, I was practically frisked to make sure that I could pay for any care that my wife may receive. The reason for that is, somebody has to pay for the free medical care for the so-called indigent, read that as “illegal alien”. The hospital is in business to make money. Without payments, they quickly go out of business. The government does not pay for this free medical care for the indigent, whereas, somebody must. That is were you and I come in. That is why insurance premiums are high or unaffordable to some.
With the entire medical care overhaul that is being kicked around in the US Congress, those idiots are just working on the symptoms. They can twist their rules any way, but it is not going to provide better medical care for less money, which is what they are trying to shove down the taxpayers' throat. Don’t get me started!
Fixing the problem, as opposed to the symptoms, would be as follows:
- Stopping any benefits to illegal aliens,
- Limiting the ridiculous amounts awarded to trial lawyers supposedly in behalf of litigants, and
- Not requiering private health care providers to work without compensation.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Tribute To Followers
Dear People,
I appreciate your willingness to read my thoughts. In some cases it could be a whim or something that an Internet search brought up when looking for " ..." whatever. In other cases, it could be an acknowlegement of some value that I provide. It is the latter that I treasure.
I appreciate your willingness to read my thoughts. In some cases it could be a whim or something that an Internet search brought up when looking for " ..." whatever. In other cases, it could be an acknowlegement of some value that I provide. It is the latter that I treasure.
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