quotes from Michael's Kindle

'It was much pleasanter at home,' thought poor Alice, 'when one wasn't always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about by mice and rabbits. I almost wish I hadn't gone down that rabbit-hole--and yet--and yet--it's rather curious, you know, this sort of life! I do wonder what can have happened to me! When I used to read fairy-tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one! There ought to be a book written about me, that there ought!

    --  Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll

today's inspirational message

Be curious, not judgmental. 

    --  Walt Whitman

slave assignment 12/20/2012

My darling Serafina,

Yesterday was your birthday, another milestone on our journey together.  Today is a good day for reflecting on the past year, reflecting on how you've grown,  reflecting on how our relationship and our love has grown, and obviously reflecting on how your submission has grown.

Tomorrow, however, is a good day to get back to work. 

In addition to your normal duties and responsibilities, I'm going to ask you to prepare and complete a "service resume" for me.  I expect that your service resume will fully outline all the experience and skills you bring to the table as a service oriented submissive.

My darling, you tell me that your service to me brings fulfillment, which by the way warms my heart.  In my heart, I also know that I can better direct, use, and appreciate your skills and your service.  So, it could be said that it's one of my personal resolutions, that in the upcoming year, I will grow in applying and appreciating your service.

With love and passion,
Michael

Serafina's reply to assignment

Animal Husbandry

Responsible for 1000+ feeder cattle in winter weather.

Able to keep, breed, and milk a cow or goats.

Able to raise chickens, ducks, turkeys for eggs and meat. Includes killing, and eviscerating and processing the same.

Have bred and raised rabbits- 15 bucks, and 150 or so does with does cycling every 3 months with an average 8 kits apiece to dress out to 5 lbs within 8 weeks. Sold as fryers, and selling extra breeding stock.

Keep indoor dog and cats.

Have bred, raised and showed Red Factor Canaries, and took 2 second place best in show and one third place in 3 years. I built all my own breeding cages, rearing pens, and show boxes

Have been a bee-keeper for just over 6 years. Have advanced experience in raising queens. Cleaning, repairing and maintenance of brood and honey chambers. Extraction of honey.

Outside of home work experience

1968-1971- Mowing farm-yard grass- gas push mower. Various farm chores, Summer-fallowing and work with Versatile four-wheel dually tractor pulling 25 ft blade from 5 AM till 10 PM – no breaks, Various household chores, cooking for harvest crews, child minding.

1971-Elder home care Lady dying from MS

1975- first child born

1976 – Formal dinning hostess and waitress also serving beverages in the lounge as needed. Responsible for setting up and maintaining salad bar.

1972-1980- Various sales and home-party sales including companies Fuller Brush, Watkins, Tupperware.

1978-second child born

1979-began real estate sales included 4 week seminar for retail sales offered through Century 21. I listed, and sold my first listing within 60 days. The listing was one that all the other agents were unable to get.

1980- Worked for Great West Insurance Co- servicing medical extensions for self-employed truck drivers, and similar which entailed a large area so frequent travel in inclement weather.

1981- Manager of condominium high rise- collecting rents, rentals, maintenance, supervising tenants. Also grounds keeping and walkways etc.

1987- third child born.

1989- 1990 – raised meat rabbits, beekeeping, garden. Part-time caregiver to Quadriplegic.

1991- fourth child born.

1990- 1994 - beekeeping, garden. Part-time caregiver to Quadriplegic.

1994- death of first-born

1999 – 2000 survival mode, garden. Part-time caregiver to Quadriplegic.

2001-2003 - Became Medical cannabis user, and created discussion groups for medical users or alternative herbs to cope with pain. Sharing knowledge and seeds of hope. Met and developed friendship with Michael Samadhi and his then wife. Became live-in companion for an 92 year old gentleman

2003-2004 continued to cultivate friendship with Michael Samadhi and his wife and was invited to become a partner in triad relationship, Joined them physically, severed remaining prior ties

2004 – 2009 Became caregiver for Micheal's mother and support for Michael as his wife of 16 years began preparations to divorce., which completed late 2009.

2010- Michael have clearance to get married. Our wedding is held on the banks of Mississippi River in Ken Butterworth Parkway.

2010 to current- Living and enjoying life with Master Michael.

Other things I do or have done for fun

Photography- Joined ABPA ( Abbotsford Photo Arts Association) – A venue for professional and free-lance photographers, to share tips, tricks and compete in monthly challenges. Although no longer a member I still have a deep love of the art to this day. In high-school I spent 3 year as the school photographer, and developing my work in a darkroom- The 3 happiest years of my young life

Artist- I enjoy drawing and painting. digital manipulation, and creation

Hobbyist- 1/35 scaled WW2 armory scale models and dioramas, 1/12 scale miniature doll-housing.

Faberge- style egg, Beading, sewing, candle-making, and anything else that catches my interest.

our 1st munch

Well my dear friends and readers, the lovely Serafina and I went to our first munch last night, an event put on by Quad City Kinks.  Even though we ended up leaving pretty early, we very much enjoyed ourselves and look forward to going again.

I guess our biggest problem is being "early to bed" kinda folks, as we normally get ready for bed about the time most folks would just be gearing up for a night out on the town.  I figure that feeling sleepy by 9pm didn't ever help anyone's social life, it certainly doesn't do any wonders for us.

It didn't help that Friday nights was the company Christmas Party for my business, so the night before the munch was not only mandatory, it ran rather late (as such events are prone to do.)  We started the day tired.

Then there was the weather.  We had a storm front seemingly stalled over us, bringing a soaking downpour upon us just as we left Friday night's festivities.  The rain lasted through Saturday as well, and though I'm thankful for the moisture because we've been in a drought, this kind of weather always seems to make my arthritis pain worse.

So by the time my delightful slave/wife and I arrived at the munch, we were already very tired and very sore.  The warm welcome we received from the folks who arrived before us were very nice.  With the excitement of going, and doing something new, not to mention meeting new people (perverts just like us,) I think we forgot our pain and fatigue, if only for the moment.

The event got pretty big.  When it was all said and done, the total headcount reached 32, a very impressive total, especially when it's considered that our modest metropolitan area of less than 500,000 actually has 2 different BDSM social groups.  Viva la kink!

We enjoyed a nice meal and some good conversation with the folks around us.  Everyone attending the event introduced themselves, allowing us to put some faces with screen names we knew from Fetlife.  And, there was a very nice holiday gift exchange.

To be honest, the size of the crowd caused a little bit of difficulty for me.  I'm going to sound more than a little bit like a decrepit old man when I say this, and it's true I'm not getting any younger, but I honestly have trouble hearing clearly when I'm at a noisy event or when I'm in a crowd.  It's always been a bit of a problem for me, so it's not just age I reckon.

And in some venues, catching 3 out of every 4 words isn't a problem.  But I can tell you for sure, it is more than a little problematic when making introductions for the first time.  Leading to embarrassing exchanges like the following (fictionalized to protect the names I really did butcher . . .)

"Oh, so your name is WagonFlower?" I say not quite sure I heard correctly.
"I'm sorry DragonBlower," I respond, just a little embarrassed when corrected.
"Oh geesh, I'm really sorry DragonFlower!  Really I won't get your name wrong yet again, I promise . . ." I said, finally getting it right on my third try.

Perhaps I wasn't really that bad for me last night, but it felt that way.

All too soon, the excitement ended for us, as we found ourselves getting sleepy and sore.  Not having had the foresight to bring along any decent pain medications, we found ourselves packing up and heading home.  It was earlier than we'd hoped to leave, but we felt satisfied with the food (about what you'd expect from the chain restaurant that hosted us) and the company (we met some nice folks we'll enjoy seeing again.)

inspirational message of the day . . .

I see fetishes… it's better than seeing dead people.
    --  found on Fetlife

btw - Serafina and I are both on Fetlife . . .
Michael
Serafina
Friends here are welcome to become friends there!
And, Serafina and I are actively working to become better citizens on the kink world, and that means community involvement.  We'll be going to our first munch this weekend too.

kinky crusaders

I'm reading a book about the Crusades, the attempt by Christians in medieval times, to conquer the holy lands from Muslim rule and rule them as a Christian land.  That in and of itself isn't of great interest to readers here, of that I am sure, but I'm also pretty sure that one excerpt has some relevance here . . .

In the hope of purifying his soul, he made three pilgrimages to Jerusalem, more than 2,000 miles away. On the last of these journeys, now an old man, Fulk was said to have been led naked to the Holy Sepulchre–the site of Jesus’ death and resurrection–with a leash around his neck, being beaten by his servant while he begged Christ for forgiveness.

To my ears, that sounds more like a good kinky roleplay scenario than at actual attempt at atonement, but to each their own I guess!

spanksgiving day (redux)

Serafina recently wrote up a description of our Spanksgiving Day celebration, and while it's wonderful, it should be said that my own version of those events carries a significantly different tone and flavor.  Please consider her's to be the sliced turkey for your Spanksgiving day festivities, and mine to be the cranberry relish you serve alongside . . . 

I spent the last summer looking for places to act out various outdoor BDSM styled fantasy scenarios that I dream. Wildlife management areas and remote river access points being among my favorites. Although they are heavily used during part of the year, they usually offer solitude at other times, as long as you have a plan of where and when to go.


Yesterday, while most folks were sliding up to the table with relatives to eat too much food, I bundled up my slave/wife, Serafina, into my truck and headed off to find outdoor adventure. We started hiking at one area, a state park, looking to end up along a secluded stream bank where we'd be free from prying eyes, just 30 or 40 yards from what is usually a heavily traveled trail.

It was close to 60 degrees out, comfortably warm for me, perhaps a little chilly for what would be a mostly disrobed Serafina (who I planed to drape over a convenient log,) but nothing that a good warming of her ass wouldn't be able to overcome. It started raining, and Serafina looked at me, asking with her eyes if the rain storm would spare her bottom it's ordeal. I growled lightly in response that she'd be wet when I was done with her anyway, so a little rain wasn't going to even slow me down.

I think she whimpered a little . . .

Then I heard children's voices.

Fuck! Fuck FUCK FUCK!

I may be a dominant and a sadist, I may keep my wife as a slave, I may even have rape and abduction fantasies, but I don't ever condone involving children in any way, even peripherally in a manner where they might accidentally witness, or overhear, BDSM play.
When the kids (along with dogs and finally parents in tow) eventually came around the rock ledge where we were standing, sheltered from the rainfall, I gave them a hearty hello, their dogs a friendly scratch, and their parents a polite nod. Then I took Serafina in hand, and led her back to the truck.

Who the hell takes their kiddos to a fucking park on Spanskgiving day?

So I drove another half hour down the road, conversing politely with my slave/wife as I drove. She may be slave, but she is far from being mere chattel, Serafina is delightfully knowledgeable and experienced in a variety of different subjects, herbalist, master gardener, artist, musician, cook and hostess.

During a pause in our conversation, I think to myself that in a different lifetime she would have made a beautiful courtesan, an exclusive escort for the vastly wealthy, the kind of woman who would satisfy he elite intellectually and serve on their arm at galas and events before servicing them in the bedroom afterward. I also think to myself that I am a very lucky man, to have captivated and enslaved such a beautiful creature.

Then, with little ado, but much navigation along backroads (where we rarely saw a soul, just a coule of cars and one man walking down the middle of the road in the mist) we arrived at an alternate destination, a remote river access point along the Mississippi .

I took my slave/wife by the hand one more time, and led her down a faint trail that paralleled the river. I’m a large man, 6' tall, while Serafina is just 5'2", so if I decide to set a good pace, it feels as though I’m almost pulling her along, her stride is much shorter than mine, and she has to push herself to keep up. That’s the way I want it, I want her breathless before we even start.

Then is see what I’m looking for, a downed log - solid and secure, that I can drape my slave over for her spanking.

In a quiet but firm voice, my face vary close to hers (invading her space) as I held her close in front of me, I told Serafina to pull her pants down to her ankles and drape herself over the log. She looked at the damp wood for a moment, realizing that the recent rain wasn’t going to make her ordeal any more comfortable, and then quietly complied with my command.

I got out my camera, and calmly told her I was going to record the event for all my online friends.

I pushed her black lace panties down off of her ass, told my slave how cute she looked, pants around her ankles, panties pulled down, breathlessly waiting for her spanking. Her only reply was a whimper. I took some more pictures. Then I began to redden her ass. I love floggers and paddles; canes, straps, and belts; all the various traditional forms of discipline and punishment associated with BDSM and sadomasochism. I have a pair of skin tight motorcycle cop gloves that are great for spanking too, powerful imagery and powerful feelings for my slave to be manhandled by hands encased in sexy leather. But, there really is something special about the feeling and intimacy that comes with a bare handed spanking. Normally I like to take my time, to savor each and every blow I deliver to a woman’s ass when I want to deliver a powerful spanking, but I also know that it’s very effective to alter my patterns as a dominant, it keeps my slave guessing, it keeps things fresh. So, there was nothing slow and languid about this spanking, there was no massage oil rubbed into the aching cheeks during a brief respite, there was no quiet interaction or intimacy. There were just grunts and groans, whimpers and moans, as I spanked Serafina hard and fast. I did take a break (or two) to take pictures, and trace the outline of the hand prints that appeared on her flesh. When I reached down briefly to tickle her clit, she responded with a grateful, “Thank you, Master!” I returned to reddening her ass. I rained sharp blows down upon my slave's ass, eliciting sharp intakes of her breath, grunts, groans, whimpers and finally the words, “Mercy, Master!” This is the way I allow Serafina to signal me that she is at the edge of what she can endure. I call it a “soft safe word” because it won’t stop a scene, it won’t even necessarily stop what I’m doing, it simply lets me know that to go farther would bring about real and severe distress. Now I think I’ve already “outed” myself here as a bit of a sadist in addition to being a dominant. That means that saying “mercy” just once doesn’t always stop me with Serafina, creating the strong sensations that elicit the plea satisfies the sadist, while the actual begging the sensations can elicit certainly do something for the dom inside me. I didn’t make poor Serafina beg this day, just hearing that single plea for mercy satisfied me. I wasn’t feeling like being exposed here for too long was a very good idea. This particular river access sits in the “shadow” of a large power plant, and while I knew that we were concealed from the views of anyone who might be on the river or in the parking lot, I also knew that we might be giving a good show to a couple of guys in a watch tower that was added to the power plant after 9-11. As I unzipped my pants, I asked my slave/wife if she remembered me pointing out the guard tower as we drove around the perimeter of the plant before we arrived at the river access. She said; “Yes, Master!” immediately. The I watched as she slowly realized the implications of what I had said. I watched her body tense as she realized she might have been putting on a lewd show for a pair of bored and lonely guards on Thanksgiving. I listed to her whimper, saw her shiver, and then succumbed to the the drama of the situation and the charms exposed before me. Yes, I fucked my slave there in the woods, thrusting myself in with one strong sure push, then enjoying the warmth of her reddened ass against my crotch as I pushed in balls deep. Knowing what I like a woman to do, Serafina pushed back hard against me, impaling herself on my throbbing cock. Then I told her to close her eyes. I began to spin a story to my slave as I used her from behind. Telling her that the guards were driving down to investigate. As she whimpered and moaned underneath me, I told Serafina how they were going to line up behind me, waiting for their turn to use her when I was done. I felt a shudder go through her entire body, a lovely sensation for me, when embedded deeply inside. I called her slut, saying I could feel that she wanted to be used like that. She whimpered again, a higher pitched desperate whine followed. She was afraid of where my story might go, she was afraid I might make her live it out someday. As I fucked her deeply, grinding against her before pulling out to the tip, thrusting in again to the hilt. I called her whore, continuing to slap her the side of her ass as I drove in and out of her, telling her to move her hips, to clench her cunt. I felt her shiver underneath me again. Knowing my property well, I knew that between the shiver and the rhythmic grasping of her cunt, that she was close to orgasm. While Serafina is trained to only cum on command, to always ask permission before allowing herself that pleasure, I wanted there to be no mistake about my intent. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I said, growling in her ear. She knew exactly what I meant, her whimpers and shivers now turning to grunts and shudders. She ground against me with moves worthy of a porn star, fucking just like the names I was calling her. At that point, I allowed myself to get lost in the pleasure my slave can provide. I can no longer recall the words I said, the names I used, the actions I made. Ultimately, I took my pleasure inside my property, pulling out to wipe the last dribbles across her ass. I stepped back, admiring the red glow of her pale flesh, as well as the obvious signs of her recent use, just now starting to drip down her backside. I told her to stay still and wait for me while I took more pictures, evidence of her use for online friends. When I was satisfied that I’d documented the ultimate results our Spanksgiving Day celebration, and that she’d been left just a little longer than I needed for that purpose, left bent over a damp log, well spanked and well used, I told her to stand up. I chided my slut for being such a brazen whore, for standing there exposed in the woods for anyone who wandered by to see. Then I did allow her the modesty of pulling up her panties and pants, not however, allowing her to wipe or clean up the mess I’d made on her ass. “You’ll wear that with pride, just like the whore you are,” I said. “Yes, Master,” she replied.

My Gift to my Master.

I hand you my control, 

my desires,

 and my dreams.

I belong to you alone,

 and offer all my trust,

And promise to keep 

growing with you.

Master, take me as I am
I can come no other way
Take me deeper into You
Make my past life melt away
Make me like a precious stone
Crystal clear, and finely honed
All my submission shining through
Reflecting honor back to You.
You are more to me than life.

There is no other thing more precious.

I love you!

Happy Spanksgiving!

Now that most of you are more stuffed than a turkey- we hope- and satisfied and happy.  Most people celebrate the holiday with family, and Master Michael and myself are our family, as we have no one other.  And, that's OK!

We celebrated Spanksgiving.  Really!  Master always believes that it is more blessed to give than to receive. And that means I'll be on the receiving end of things, spank-you very much!

We began the day as a normal one, having eggs and toast for breakfast, futzing away most of the morning.  We had a snack about noon, and went for a short drive to go for a short walk in a nearby woods.  The plan was to find a secluded spot to bend me over a stump, rock, or log and get a nice red spanked ass.

We arrived at small local park hoping to have unlimited privacy.
as we drove into the parking area we saw 2 cars- not real good.  We stepped out of the vehicle, and walked just a bit and encountered a family- opps!  And it began to drizzle,which soon became heavier.

Reluctantly we turned back to leave, but we thought we'd go for a bit of a drive anyway.  We  soon found ourselves in a good downpour, even though there were clearing skies ahead of us.

Suddenly we were out of the deluge and came upon an out-of-the-way boat launch and we turned in.  No cars. Good!  We walked up an over-grown path to reach an area that was suitable and found what we were looking for  A fallen log in a bit of a gully.

Master reached it first foraging a path for me to follow.  I noticed he picked up a branch and welded it like it was a cane.  There was a gleam in his eye.  As soon as I came to his side he told me to take down my pants.  "Down to your ankles!"

pre-spanking

I just did as I was told and he pushed me over to bend over the log.  From there he admired the view and snapped pictures.  Then began the swats.  They reigned down heavy and hard with an occasional break to finger my pussy or trace my red ass. It was delisch.

post-spanking

Without a word Master fucked me there and then and told me how spankful he is to have found me.  I replied "spank you very much, Master!  Happy Spanksgiving!"


Soon we were on our way back home to enjoyed a delicious steak grilled to perfection by Master.  Our side was fresh steamed broccoli. Perfect meal, as we are both working on getting healthier and leaner.

We hope you all have had a most wonderful Spanksgiving day!! 

it's electric!

It was electric.

Literally.

Yes, my dear reader, Serafina and I have been experementing with adding electro-stim to our play.

We've explored this area a little in the past with some products from Paradise Electro Stimulations (PES) but found their control box to be rather limited.  It was ok, but we knew we could do even better . . .

Well, Santa Claus came early to the Samadhi household, as a package from UPS showed up on our doorstep last week containing the ErosTek ET312B, the electro stim control device of my dreams.

In just our second time playing with the machine, I was able to induce in my darling Serafina a "hands free orgasm."  Yes indeed, with nothing more than the ErosTek control unit, an electric acrylic plug from PES called the Stanley Junior, and a TENS unit, I was able to make my slave/wife beg for permission to orgasm.  By her third orgasm, she openly said she was losing control, and wouldn't even be able to ask for permission in time before the sensations overtook her, again and again.

Now for the disclaimers - NEVER use electro-sex machines without a good working knowledge of electricity and it's potentially deadly effects on the human body.  Never use electro-stim above the waist, and never NEVER NEVER ever use it in a manner where even the most minute current could effect the heart muscle.  Better still, make sure all your initial explorations are in the hands of a trusted expert.

My interest in electricity in general began when I was in Junior High.  By High School, for extra credit in my Physics class, I was assigned small electrical devices the school had been unable to repair, and was expected to return them to working order.  Readers that know me also know I got straight A's in that class.  I was the kid who ruined the curve for everybody else in most every class I took, including Physics.

I've studied electro-stim in a sexual setting for over a decade, my copy of "Juice" by Uncle Abdul (the only real book I've found on the subject) is well worn, dogeared, and well understood.  Additionally, Serafina and I both have working experience with TENS units and similar going back to when they were first released as medical devices. 

In other words, I'm qualified to play with this stuff, barely.  If your qualifications aren't at least as extensive as my own - DO NOT TRY ELECTRO-STIM.

pick a number . . .

Warning - Graphic Image

Well my friends and dear readers, Ive got good news and bad news.  And, I've also learned a valuable lesson these last couple of weeks, that if I don't sit down and write up a scene, the fine details might just escape me 10 or 12 days later when I try to recall all the fine erotic details.  Serafina and I have been very active "playing" lately, so in my defense, I have to say that a lot of our scenes from the last month sort of blend together in my mind.  

It's been a glorious time filled with a lot of discussions, truly laying our souls bare to each other, wine and cheese picnics together in bed, bondage, spankings, floggings, nipple and ass play.

What I do remember of the particular evening in question . . . 

We started this scene with Serafina bound to our dungeon bed with leather wrist, ankle and thigh cuffs.  With a sly grin, I asked my slave wife to kindly to pick a number between one and ten.

She groaned, but then chose the number nine.  So, nine became the number of orgasms she would experience with a pair of metal NJoy plugs filling her.  

I got her thru the first four with my fingers, rocking the plugs gently inside her, rubbing her clit with a thumb or forefinger, whichever was most handy at the moment.  Orgasms five thru nine were accomplished with a Lelo wand working her clit (occasionally buzzing the plugs too) while I continued to rock and jostle the plugs filling my slave/wife's pussy and bum.

I wish I could remember all the hot dialogue that accompanied this play session, I've tried and all that remains in my mind are just snatches (please excuse the bad pun.) That's the bad news.

The good news is - I do have more than just my memory for a record of what happened  . . . 

Sluggish Sex

If you are feeling like our blog has been a bit sluggish in sexy, slippery and juicy posts, you are correct.

  We did take a break from writing here but we have been very active in the bedroom and many other places besides the bedroom. But we will be far more active now that there is less travel weather.

We will have some surprizes for our readers, which will be exciting to journal. For now watch this clip and enjoy whatever path it leads your mind to. We even believe creation is beautiful in sex. Enjoy!

Happy Halloween!

We have been skipping around the area we live, exploring good hiking places.  We even postponed creating our play-space for the summer as well.  The one thing we didn't forget was to play, and play we have.

Now it's time to get back in the saddle again, as we gear up for the colder weather.  And Fall and cooler temps also mean a number of holidays are just days away.  Master Michael and I wish you a safe and very fun Halloween.  And we will get back to blogging more frequently again.

re-blogged fr Tumbler

We intend to do some costume shopping right on the day after, as there are fabulous fantasy ideas for all year round.  At least, that is what I am hoping for as I fall short in the imagination department.

Which really begs a question of our readers-  How do you dream up fantasies that might be fun to play with latter?  Please help me out here!

Thank you,
Serafina

Exploring . . .

Port Louisa National Wildlife Refuge - picture by Serafina

Serafina and I have been exploring lately . . .

Yes, my dear reader, you might find my statement rather obvious, as we've been posting a small sample of the scenic pictures we've taken this fall.  And yes, we've been driving, hiking and exploring our continent's heartland.  It's all right out our back door, all of the pictures are taken at locations within a couple hours drive of where we live.

And it's true, the fall colors are exceptional this year, and we wanted to share some of the Midwest's understated natural beauty.  But at the same time, our physical explorations might also serve as an excellent metaphor for what's happening with our relationship.

Over the last year, I've observed Serafina's submission deepening and growing, just as her physical/sexual response to my dominance has continued to to increase as well.  It's not surprising really, as I also feel more assured in my own power and leadership.  So it seems natural for our relationship to grow at the same time, and it certainly has.

Direction is normally the domain of the dominant, as they are the individual with the greatest ability to give real direction to a BDSM relationship.  And, it's true that Serafina endeavors to fulfill my desires and fantasy to the best of her abilities.  I mean, there aren't many men who sleep most every night in a dungeon bed that's part of a full scale playroom that's almost certainly the centerpiece of our home.

But, it's also true that I see myself more as a gardener than a dictator.  Gardening is about providing a proper nurturing environment for something to grow, and in my vision that's as valid a role for a dominant as any other I've seen offered.

Yes, as Master, I do have metaphorical pruning shears in my hands, I can (and do) prune unwanted branches to promote those I desire.  The art of bonsai was considered an honorable hobby for warriors in some eastern cultures, it also seems (to my taste) to be a suitable metaphor for the role of a dominant.

We all come to relationships with a tangle of branches (otherwise called baggage.)  It's the Master's role to turn those twisted brambles into a thing of beauty.  I look at Serafina glowing as she's sitting by my side in her new corset.  She's reveling in her submission, and in belonging to a strong man she loves.  I'm reveling in the beauty of the relationship I've shaped.

I'm also reveling in the future possibilities that have been facilitated by deep (and sometimes difficult) discussions of fantasy and desire.  We're very strongly considering starting to look for an individual with desire to submit to Serafina and myself as her dominants.  There's a cage built under our dungeon bed for a reason, and it's not for storage!

Just as the two-track path in the picture that began this post seems to draw me into the picture and down the path, I also want to see what's around the bend for my lovely slave/wife and I.

Rock Island Rendevous

 While Master had to do a job that didn't need me helping him I was walking around a local city park taking pictures of the riotous fall glory.

Photo by Serafina

Earlier in the morning I had donned a skirt and nice blouse to go to the office with him, and pulled on some nice tall boots.  Just before we arrived however he turned to me and with his serious voice commanded me to remove my panties.

I did so without a word.  He took them from me and commented to himself "Well, I suppose these are to big to walk into the building with them in your mouth" - and handed them back all wadded up. I stuffed them in my jacket pocket.

Later Master asked where they had been put and when I told him, he wanted to see.  I pulled them and he seized them and stuffed them into his pocket.  We walked together quietly, while I was super aware of my nakedness under my black velvety skirt.  As I got my space set up Master growled at me to pick up my filthy underwear, and not act like the slut I am.

I turned to follow his gaze and there on the floor was my underwear.  I bent over and calmly picked them up.  Master reached for them and stuffed them into his pocket.  Every time he went up to the other offices he had his hand in his pocket.  I was wondering if he might flash them. . .  .

camping

Yes, the leaf was really THAT yellow. 

Serafina and I have once again returned from another camping trip, this one just a four day jaunt to the confluence of the Wisconsin and Mississippi Rivers, where among other attractions you'll find Effigy Mounds National Monument.

It was a cold weekend, with high temperatures never getting out of the low 50's and nights below freezing.  Cold weather camping isn't a problem for me, but the overcast skies didn't make for particularly good picture taking.

The fall colors, however, were outstanding!

Overlooking the Upper Mississippi River Valley
Wyalusing State Park - Wisconsin

Despite the cold we did manage hot kinky sex in a crowded campground, my hand clamped down had on my slave's mouth, making her cum again and again until she forgot who she was, let alone where she was. The look in her eyes when I reminded Serafina that there were only walls of canvass surrounding us . . . priceless!

oh yes!

Vacation

We had a very nice vacation, and are now home safe and sound, although we could have stayed away forever . . .  

Although most of the pictures have been posted elsewhere so they could be shared with vanilla family and friends, I wanted to give you, my dear reader, a taste of the scenery.

"Life is and will ever remain an equation incapable of solution, but it contains certain known factors."

    ~ Nikola Tesla

direction

"Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction."

    ~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I've always enjoyed Antoine de Saint-Exupery and I'll never forget reading Le Petit Prince in French class, a classic story that can be enjoyed on a number of levels . . . 

Anniversaries

Our blog's one year anniversary passed quietly earlier this month, unnoticed even by the blog's authors.  I'd hate to say we are oblivious right now, but that does seem to be the case.  Serafina and I are preoccupied with a number of different things.

I guess that's sometimes how life ends up, passing by, leaving you feeling a little bit like you are watching it go by while you sit behind glass in a greyhound bus.  It's something I need to snap out of, I'm not a "leave the driving to us" kinda guy.

Today is another anniversary, it's been one year since my Mother's passing.  If you are feeling sensitive today, or perhaps you simply don't wish to read about death, this is probably a good time to stop reading . . .

I was looking back at the blog, and I saw my post about being under the weather on the 29th last year.  I was home with what I thought was a flu bug (I've since realized it's just the peak of ragweed season and it leaves me miserable every year at this time.)  I got a call from the hospital that my Mother wasn't doing well, she was going to have to be intubated and taken to ICU.  I begged off going in, not wanting to spread my flu to Mom, and thinking it was not the worst news, Mom had been thru three previous ICU visits in the previous 3 years, hell it was almost turning into a routine.  I sent Serafina to the Hospital in my stead.

An hour later, I got the call.  Mom had refused to go on the ventilator, instead she had chosen to die.  At that point I went to the hospital despite the flu, it wasn't like my little bug was going to harm Mom at that point anyway.

She passed away the next day, at about 1 pm, I was with her holding her hand and gently telling her she was loved.  I think it's the most difficult thing I've ever endured, sitting with her those last 24 hours.  Death did not come gently like the night . . .

I'm sorry to burden you with this rememberence, unfortunately life isn't always sexy or fun.  All I have to share today is raw emotion, it's going to be a long day I'm sure . . .

Getting into corsetry

Not always as easy as it looks but looks super sweet when it is worn.  I have such a barrel shaped trunk and I really wish it would conform to the desired hour-glass curves.  Master Michael has generously offered a custom- designed corset.  We chose Amy Delicious who has an excellent reputation.  We had approached 3 others who had excuses or didn't bother to return emails and calls.  One was too busy with orders.

Amy delivers!  After sending her the initial measurements she sent a mock up to try on. So here I am feeling quite awkward in a self-portrait for the record.  my intention is to continue to lose the weight and get in shape.  Just in time for a renewed zeal to  take up nature hiking after a very long hiatus.  We expect a few new aches and pains that will hopefully diminish over time as we get more fit.  After all, who wants to get old and decrepit?

TMI - 8/28/2012

TMI Tuesday - Michael's None Night Stand Edition

1. Have you ever initiated a booty call? 

Not exactly.  The closest I've come is when the ex and I would have Cherub over for a LSD fueled evening of absolute debauchery.  The scenes would usually last for hours and would include spankings, floggings and bondage, so I'm thinking that's a little bit beyond your average "booty call".

 2. Have you ever accepted a booty call? 

No actual call was ever involved, but a former girlfriend who I've since nicknamed "pain and misery" was notorious for showing up on my doorstep (usually a little drunk) for sex for at least a couple of years after we formally broke off the relationship.

 3. Ever had a “friend with benefits” relationship? How long did it last? Are you still friends or acquaintances with that person? Are you still having sex with that friend? 

Well, my first wife and I had steady sex with each other for two or three years after our divorce, although there was no relationship beyond a strained friendship outside of the bedroom.  We've not had contact with each other for something like 15 years outside of Facebook, where I saw the other day she'd finally remarried in 2010.

 4. Tell us about your best one-night stand, what made it so good? 

I've never had a one night stand.

5. When was your last one-night stand? 

I've never had a one night stand.

 6. What’s the grimiest, dirtiest place that you’ve had sex? 

When I was 16 I had sex with my first girlfriend in an old storage closet that was in a portion of the school building that had been blocked off by renovations.  It was dusty and filthy enough to cause an asthma attack.

 Bonus: What’s the one random thing you wish your friends knew about you?

If there was one special something I wanted my friends to know about me, it (obviously) wouldn't be "random" . . . Perhaps I should just tell everybody I've never had a one night stand . . . er . . . I guess I already did that!

weekend report . . .

Our weekend included a day's worth of truck repairs that included a new muffler as well as shocks and struts, an expensive proposition for a Friday.  We managed to fit some urban hiking into the day, and we did get to observe a dancer walking her dogs when the wooded path we were taking brought us out behind a strip club.

Saturday found us on a trip to Oakbrook Terrace to visit a REI store to grab some camping and hiking gear we needed for our excursions to explore the Driftless Area.  While I've got baseball caps galore, neither one of us had a decent wide brim had to keep sun off our neck and ears, a must for hiking in the sun.  That wardrobe hole, as well as some other essential camping needs are now filled.

Sunday was supposed to be a day of resting, although the agenda did include a corset test fitting.  Delicious Corsets is creating a custom corset for Serafina, and their custom corset manufacturing process includes a fabric "mock up" being sent to my slave/wife for a test fitting.

Serafina took some photos of her test fitting, but I'm not sure where they are at right now, I know a cd-rom was burnt to return to the manufacturer with those photos.  I'll let Serafina share the photos later if she chooses.  With that in mind, I'll temporarily turn this into a food blog, and illustrate today's post with a picture of lunch . . .

Bratwurst (cooked in beer) with grilled onion by Michael Samadhi

about last night . . .

Just before bedtime last night I paddled my Serafina's behind with a couple of nice leather implements from my collection, not to mention using my bare hand for about 15 minutes.  In the end (pardon the bad pun) her ass cheeks glowed nicely.

Then, I had slave/wife ride me in a reverse cowgirl position so I could admire my handiwork as she humped, before I finally had Serafina turn around and taste her own juices on my cock.  As usual, she blushed nicely afterwards when I kissed her and commented that her mouth tasted just like her pussy.

I guess this quickie post is my way of saying that while I've not felt inspired to write much lately for our blog, my slave/wife certainly isn't suffering from any lack of attention!

Histoire d'O

quotes from the author

Today.s post dear reader is nothing more than a simple collection of quotes from magazine and newspaper interviews with Dominique Aury, the woman who wrote the Story of O under the pseudonym Pauline Réage.  Interestingly, it turns out that the name Dominique Aury is itself a pseudonym, the author's actual real name was Anne Desclos.

"Who I am finally, if not the long silent part of someone, the secret and nocturnal part which has never betrayed itself in public by any thought, word, or deed, but communicates through subterranean depths of the imaginary with dreams as old as the world itself?"

      ~~ Dominique Aury

"I wasn’t young, I wasn’t pretty, it was necessary to find other weapons."

      ~~ Dominique Aury

"I think that submissiveness can [be] and is a formidable weapon, which women will use as long as it isn’t taken from them."

      ~~ Dominique Aury 

“Is O used by René and Sir Stephen, or does she in fact use them, and…all those irons and chains and obligatory debauchery, to fulfill her own dream—that is, her own destruction and death? And, in some surreptitious way, isn’t she in charge of them? Doesn’t she bend them to her will?”

      ~~ Dominique Aury

"Debauchery conceived of as a kind of ascetic experience is not new, either for men or for women, but until Story of O no woman to my knowledge had said it.”

      ~~ Dominique Aury

Dominique Aury

"I think I have a repressed bent for the military, I like discipline without question, specific schedules and duties."

      ~~ Dominique Aury

“By my makeup and temperament I wasn’t really prey to physical desires.  Everything happened in my head.” 

      ~~ Dominique Aury

"Story of O is a fairy tale for another world, a world where some part of me lived for a long time, a world that no longer exists except between the covers of a book."

      ~~ Dominique Aury

"I wrote it alone, for him, to interest him, to please him, to occupy him. I wasn't young, nor particularly pretty. I needed something which might interest a man like him."

      ~~ Dominique Aury

“I found that stiffly saluting member, of which he was so proud, rather frightening, and to tell the truth I found his pride slightly comical. I thought that that must be embarrassing for him, and thought how much more pleasant it was to be a girl. That, by the way, is an opinion I still hold today.”

     ~~ Dominique Aury (describing her first real-life exposure to male anatomy)

the point is loving and serving, and owning and mastering, not hurting . . .

one supposes remarkable fulfillments may occur in such an arrangement . . . 

I've got good news and I've got bad news for you, my dear reader.  The bad news is that it seems that I have the blues, I'm feeling them hard, teetering on the brink of a very real and serious depression.  That's the bad news anyway, it's not the end of the world, but I'm not very productive in terms of writing when I feel this way.

The good news is that one way I deal with depression is to immerse myself in studies and reading, so it's not like I'm sitting immobilized and staring at the walls.  By giving my mind something to ponder and work upon, by feeding my head, I'll eventually snap out of my funk, at least that's normally the prescription to resolve my own bouts of depression.

Here is one of the fruits from my reading, an excerpt of an interview with John Norman, creator of Gor.  I'm not sure that Norman understands real world BDSM as it's practiced today, as what he describes as Master/Slave sex is essentially the same as my outlook on BDSM itself.  I guess it's really a matter of semantics . . . 

"I know nothing about "real-life Gorean slavery among some people in the BDSM community." The "BDSM" reference worries me. I dissociate myself from BDSM, at least as I understand it. I may, of course, misunderstand it. I wonder if one would settle merely for "real-life Gorean slavery," because, as I understand it, BDSM is not Gorean. If something is not beautiful, it is not Gorean. In any event, I am assuming that what is involved here, in any case, is consensual. If a woman chooses to submit herself, voluntarily, to a master, it seems to me that is her business, and his business. She would then, of course, be a slave, and would be treated as a slave. One supposes remarkable fulfillments may occur in such an arrangement. It is, of course, important to treat the slave, however uncompromisingly strict you are with her, however much she might fear you, in a humane way, as one would any other animal. Some men, I gather, dislike women, and enjoy hurting them. That makes no sense to me. Women are wonderful, and precious. It is a delight to own one; why would one hurt her? What would be the point of that, mere sadistic pleasure? I think we might distinguish between, say, S/M sex, or sadomasochistic sex, and M/S sex, or Master/Slave Sex. In a sense they seem opposite. Love is important. It is not to be confused with cruelty. Gratuitous cruelty seems to me uncalled for, and ugly, morally and aesthetically. Too, it seems unworthy of a true master. The point is loving and serving, and owning and mastering, not hurting. To be sure, the slave must understand that if she is not pleasing, she is subject to discipline. She is not to be left in doubt that she is a slave. It is easy to avoid discipline; she need only be obedient, submissive, and found pleasing, wholly, and in all ways. Sometimes a slave may desire to be reassured of her bondage. There are many ways in which the master, if he wishes, may see to this. I have written an entire book, the Imaginative Sex book, in which my views on such matters should be reasonably clear."
    ~~ John Norman - io9 profile

sexual freedoms sacrificed at the altar of cheap beef

I regret that my message today is not more "sex positive", unfortunately there is news that doesn't always allow me the luxury.  Yes indeed, I am about to recount the tale of our sexual freedoms (among other things) being sacrificed at the altar of cheap beef . . .

More and more infectious disease organisms are developing antibiotic resistance these days, something I've seen first hand as an antibiotic resistant strain of pneumonia was the primary cause of my Mother's death last year.  So, it should come as no great surprise when we learn that sexually transmitted diseases are part of that trend, as the Atlantic reported last week in an article titled Here It Comes: Super Gonorrhea.

Did you know gonorrhea can kill you? It can, and it's also tragically effective at making women infertile. According to her journals, my great aunt Mabel was "barren," and my grandmother always told me it was probably from gonorrhea. The only reason we don't hear about these awful complications more often -- and we instead think of it as a little oops of an infection ("Can I still drink on these antibiotics?" "Yes." "Cool.") -- is because we've been able to kill it early with relative ease.
But over the past decades, gonorrhea has been mowing down our antibiotics. If this was the Olympic 400 IM, gonorrhea would be the Ryan Lochte and our antibiotics would be the guy from Moldova.
The list of effective antibiotics has been dwindling as the bacteria became resistant, and now it's down to one. Five years ago, the CDC said fluoroquinolones were no longer effective, but oral cephalosporins were still a common/easy treatment. Now injected ceftriaxone is the only recommended effective drug we have left. And it has to be given along with either azithromycin or doxycycline.

The Super Gonorrhea article, written by James Hamblin, MD, is a pretty stark reminder that we currently live in the waning days of the "golden age of antibiotics", as we are commonly seeing the medicines of our grandparents and parents rendered obsolete by continually evolving bacteria.

With that said, I'm sure that my Evangelical Christian friends will see the hand of God behind this act of bacterial evolution.  I mean what else can they see?  It's not like they accept evolution in any of it's forms, it's purely a matter of faith to them.  They will posit that promiscuity is evil and unhealthy, and this potential epidemic is a sign that God (the Trinity) is displeased with all but purely monogamous lifestyles.

I'm personally of the opinion that the onset of antibiotic resistant disease is simply a symptom of the overuse of antibiotics in our food chain.  Far too many chemicals are fed to far too many livestock animals simply because the balance sheet tells a businessman that a few extra pennies per head can be garnered.  Yes, there is one science that the Religious Right (which is neither truly religious nor, are they right) has faith in, the science of the balance sheet.

The vast majority of scientists agree, it's only a matter of time before disease causing bacteria learn to resist our last antibiotic lines of defense.  That future is clearly envisioned in Dr. Hamblin's article:

Once gonorrhea becomes resistant to the last of our cephalosporin antibiotics -- "it's only a matter of time," according to Dr. Gail Bolan, Director of STD Prevention at the CDC in today's announcement -- we will have no treatment. Then when it gets into your bloodstream, it will be lethal.

I've watched Doctors pull my Mother back from being nearly dead on a number of occasions in her life.  At the end, it involved using antibiotic cocktails which brought her back even from sepsis.  Those cures weren't available in your my grandmother's day, and they won't be available in your grandchildren's day either.

My paternal grandfather, like Al Capone and many other more famous individuals, died of syphilis.  The bacteria got into his brain and disabled him, left him like a zombie, and finally extinguished his life.  He died in a sanitarium, leaving behind a family with no means of support, the majority of his children were given up for adoption, that they might eat.

When I was younger, that always seemed like a tale from a barbaric time, that thankfully was left in the past.  I'm realizing now that the past and the future may not look so different.

Good Girls Go to Heaven, Bad Girls Go Everywhere - RIP Helen Gurley Brown

"A million times a year I defend my covers.  I like skin, I like pretty.  I don't want to photograph the girl next door."
    ~~  Helen Gurley Brown

Helen Gurley Brown, author of “Sex and the Single Girl” and former editor of Cosmopolitan magazine, died yesterday at New York-Presbyterian/Columbia University Medical Center after a brief illness. She was 90 years of age.

By turns celebrated and castigated, Ms. Brown was for decades a highly visible, though barely visible, public presence. A tiny, fragile-looking woman who favored big jewelry, fishnet stockings and minidresses till she was well into her 80s, she was a regular guest at society soirees and appeared often on television. At 5 feet 4, she remained a wraithlike hundred pounds throughout her adult life. That weight, she often said, was five pounds above her ideal.
Ms. Brown routinely described herself as a feminist, but whether her work helped or hindered the cause of women’s liberation has been publicly debated for decades. It will doubtless be debated long after her death.
    ~ New York Times Obituary

I'm going to be very honest, I never had much use for Cosmo.  I think my first wife read it occasionally, but as far as I was concerned it was just another "girl" magazine that wasn't going to interest me greatly.  However, I do want to "pay my respects" so to speak, to Helen Gurley Brown, as she was an important figure in the sexual revolution here in North America.

Helen Gurley Brown, she's everywhere today . . .

history of the french maid

Last year when I purchased a nice "french maid" costume for Serafina I was just buying into cliched sexual stereotypes for fun and games.  Now, after discovering the following video on YouTube, I know the history behind why the costume is a pop cultural icon . . .

Although it might not have forwarded her academic standing any, it's my opinion that the narrator should have been dressed in a sexy french maid costume herself!

everything's better naked . . . even voting . . .

And now, for a brief message from Michael . . . 

From the Armchair Patriots blog . . .

I was originally going to write an essay about the importance of this November's election here in the US, about the need for people to study the issues and vote according to their conscience.  I was going to ask you to support candidates who support your sexual freedoms.

But, while some sexual freedoms may be at stake in this election, I don't think with my dick, and I don't vote with my cock either.  And, for fuck's sake, what good would it do to try and tell you, my dear reader, which candidates I support?  Who the hell is going to base their precious vote on information found at a BDSM blog anyway?

Nobody.

Just remember this . . . 

When the spectacle of the 2012 Olympic games is complete, network television will focus (albeit briefly) on the two party's nominating conventions, where we will be assailed with lots and lots of propaganda.  And, while political commercials are already omnipresent here in Iowa (a swing state in most Presidential elections these days) - the real deluge will begin after Labor Day.

Propaganda, propaganda, propaganda, it's going to be everywhere, almost inescapable.  It's up to you what to do with it, or about it, even deciding to ignore it all entirely is a choice and a statement in it's own right.  I plan to watch a lot of Netflix this fall, I'm catching up on a number of series I never saw because I never bothered to get cable for my TV until I got cable for my computer.

My mind's already made up, and ignoring all the huffing and puffing over the next three months might make it so I won't be throwing up before election day from internalizing all the bullshit we are induced to read, hear and view.  However you decide to deal with it all is up to you . . . everybody needs to find their own mechanisms to cope with the madness.

But please do endure the madness somehow, and please do vote, it's both a right and a responsability!

Getcha vibes here . . . or . . . Relish the moment

Oh! hot diggity, dog ziggity boom, what'cha do to me,
It's so new to me, what'cha do to me,
Hot diggity, dog ziggity boom, what'cha do to me,
When you're holdin' me tight!

Trojan (best known for condoms) spent $10.5 million advertising it's Trojan Vibrations line of sex toys last year, but never seemed to get the attention and media buzz that giving away vibrators from hot dog carts in New York City has earned them this week.

On Wednesday and Thursday, Trojan Vibrations, a line of sexual enhancement devices, will hand out 10,000 free vibrators from two hot dog carts identified as pleasure carts. Along with the brand’s logo, the carts will feature sayings like “Getcha vibes here!” and “Relish the moment.”
   New York Times - A Surprise in a Hot Dog Cart

Not only did this promotional stunt earn a mention in the New York Times, it also garnered a story in the NY Daily News and AVN.  It's said that the total retail value of the two different styles of vibrators Trojan will hand out is $350,000, making it the largest vibrator giveaway in history.

It's said that the Trojan Vibrations line of sex toys are featured for sale in Wal-Mart's all across america, but they've yet to show up here in our neck of the woods. (Yes, I looked.)

And I guess that's the real news here.  Not only can the "mommy porn" crowd pick up their E.L. James trilogy at "Wally World", now they can get some help for their one handed reading at Wal-Mart too.

And here I thought the days of purchasing sex toys from places filled with sleazy characters under harsh fluorescent lights was a thing of the past . . . 

a way of being

"Sexuality is not a leisure or part-time activity. It is a way of being."
    ~ Alexander Lowen

with friends like these . . . porn stars and politics

Jenna Jameson ❤'s Mitt Romney 

"I’m very looking forward to a Republican being back in office. When you’re rich, you want a Republican in office."
     ~ Jenna Jameson

In a stunning move, and sad but true story, one that can only leave most observers shaking their heads and asking, "Why?"  Porn Queen Jenna Jameson has endorsed Mitt Romney for POTUS (President of the United States).  Jameson's move was described by AVN (the porn industry's trade newsrag) as:

"Yet another slap in the face of the industry that gave her a platform to make such proclamations."

Can you feel the love?

Despite Ms Jameson's well traveled body, as a political analyst I'd have to say this endorsement doesn't have  any legs . . . And, as a former political operative I can't help wondering what the fuck do you do with an endorsement of this kind?

Prior to Romney, Jameson's most famous endorsement was for imitation leather . . .

"I’ve worn a lot of pleather in my life. Anybody who knows me knows that I’ve kind of lived half my life in it. I love the idea of having choices outside of leather. The outfit that I’m wearing in the ad is so sexy that I suggest if people want to have a better time in the bedroom — then please explore the pleather side."
     ~ Jenna Jameson

Does this mean that Mitt has discovered the pleasure of pleather?

Do Romney's aids now tell the man he has locked up the pleather vote?

(Romney has AIDS? - No that was a Southpark episode about Jared. . . )

Does this merit a bumper sticker? Perhaps something like -- "Tired old whores for Romney"

Enquiring minds really do want to know . . .

olympic coverage (lack thereof) . . . or . . . are the Brazilians waxed?

Looks pretty kinky to me . . . . 

While the sex appeal of the Olympic Games has not escaped the lamestream media, it should be remembered that the original Olympics were contested in the nude (or so I've heard - I'm an oldtimer, but I'm not that old!)

the word gymnasium came from the Greek word gymos, which means "naked"

Who else wants to see a return of some real Olympic traditions?

No Serafina, it's not my dirty mind, I'm not making the names up, she's going to perform the "snatch" before she does the "clean and jerk"!!!

when BB King sings about eating chicken, he's not thinking Chick-Fil-A

"The men's room at this one is single occupancy and has a good lock on the door, FYI. Very discreet."
      ~ Chick-Fil-A review by Carlos R

I'm sure you've heard about the controversy surrounding Chick-Fil-A's owners giving large contribution to groups working to prevent gay marriage . . .

In a case of "turnabout being fair play", Chick-fil-A is now being inundated with homoerotic Yelp reviews.

It's so very nice to see an issue turned around so beautifully and subversively . . . not to mention that the reviews at the bottom of this screenshot are an absolute hoot!

Screenshot from thehappyplace.com

quote du jour

“Nothing one does in bed is immoral if it helps to perpetuate love.”
        ~ Gabriel García Márquez

with dreams of sitars and incense dancing in the air

I've been reading more than a few stories recently about a controversy surrounding Bollywood actress Sherlyn Chopra's choice to model nude for Playboy.  At least part of the buzz in newspapers and the blogosphere is simply because she's the very first woman from India to to get naked for Hugh Hefner's magazine.

The most surprising thing about this story, at least from my perspective, is simply that there are any firsts (within the realm of good taste) left to be had anywhere for Playboy.  After all, the magazine's been around since the mid 1950's, meaning it will celebrate a 60th birthday sometime next year.  With more than 700 issues in it's history, I find it at least a little bit surprising that there are any ethnic groups not represented by a Playboy pictorial spread.

"I have become the first Indian to pose naked for Playboy, and nobody can take away that achievement from me."
   ~ Sherlyn Chopra

"At a time when innocent women across the nation from Gujarat to Guwahati have been subjected to sexual abuse and humiliation, one wonders if Sherlyn Chopra’s pictures wound a woman’s integrity. Isn’t it an irony that on the one side, as common women strive hard to safeguard their modesty, the Sherlyn Chopras encourage voyeurism?"
   ~ Gayatri Sankar

"My sister is proud of my achievement. I haven't told anything to my mother, but I think I will visit her and tell her that she has to accept me the way I am."
   ~ Sherlyn Chopra

Sherlyn Chopra made the decision to pose nude in Playboy despite some pretty tricky opposition. First, Playboy is illegal in India, where Chopra works and lives (you can access it on the internet). Second, as an old friend put it on Facebook last night, Chopra is now seen to be diminishing a belief about “Indian women” globally–that they are modest and pure.
   ~ Samhita (via Feministing)

"It is not an easy task to be nude in front of the camera and look good at the same time."
   ~ Sherlyn Chopra

"She considers herself the liberated Indian woman, who is not shy to flaunt her body, thoughts and sexuality. She speaks as she thinks."
   ~ Divya Arya (via Hindustantimes)

"I had fun meeting him and his girlfriends. I am thinking of making him my idol because he lives his life on his terms and conditions. I also live my life on my terms and conditions."   ~ Sherlyn Chopra (on Hugh Hefner)

"I am now forced into an awkward position where I have to defend Chopra’s decision to pose nude for Playboy in the face of misogynist ideas about women’s purity and modesty as it relates to Indian nationalism. Critique the retrograde and sexist ideas about sexuality that give a magazine like Playboy so much capital, fine. But not the women that choose to do it. Conflating a woman’s sexual expression with the purity or modesty of her culture is one of the roots of sexism and patriarchy."

   ~ Samhita (via Feministing)