25 question meme - Michael's

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awaken

“Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens.”
   --  Carl Jung

making hay

Last year when the whole 50 Shades of Grey phenomena was exploding, before I knew anything about the books other than their popularity and that they included some elements of BDSM, I gave Serafina an assignment to read the books.  I can't say it ended up being a favorite assignment for either one of us, as I had to read the books myself, and I can't say that I'm personally a fan of romance novels, which is where I'd categorize 50 Shade of Grey and it's sequels.

I'd also previously asked my slave/wife to read Laura Antoniou's Marketplace series, but she found the initial premise to be objectionable, as she found the entire concept of preparing a slave (even a consensual one) for the auction block to be more than a little bit personally distasteful.  I've long been a fan of Antoniou's writing, and have always considered the Marketplace books to be the epitome of good BDSM literature.

Just over a week ago, on Feburary 24th, I reassigned The Marketplace to Serafina for her reading lessons, asking her to get beyond her personal prejudice against a human being sold at an auction, asking her to remember that in the fictional world of the Marketplace the individuals she'd be reading about had chosen their paths quite willingly.

I'm pleased to report that my darling slave/wife has not only completed The Marketplace (including the bonus short stories included with the kindle edition) but is deep into it's sequel, The Slave.  Another year of immersion in the lifestyle has broadened her perspective enough so that she's now enjoying the series very much.

Serafina gives her submission and service to me out of love, so the thought of a slave needing to be a slave so badly that they'd essentially be willing to be auctioned off to a term of service will always be a bit foreign to her, of that I am sure.  I never found the concept disturbing, in fact if such a thing as the Marketplace had existed in real life, I'd have found a way to seek it out.  I would have aspired to be a trainer . . .

Daydreams aside, I'm rather gratified that Serafina is enjoying her current reading assignments, so gratified I wanted to share it here.  I can't even begin to say how much it pleases me to see her grow in her acceptance and understanding of all things BDSM, it makes my heart feel young again.

Kid, we don't like your kind, and we're gonna send you fingerprints off to Washington.

There's a lot of debate going on at Fetlife right now about freedom of speech.  The debate was sparked in light of the decision to place stronger limits on what cannot be posted and discussed at this site. This decision was taken after Fetlife lost their credit card processor, a result of hosting discussions on some subjects that are taboo.

One vocal group in the debate has been the coprophiliacs - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coprophilia. They resent being lumped together with the pedophiles, zoophilics, and incest fetishists. I've also read a few rumblings from the zoosexual folk that they resent being lumped together with the pedophiles too.  The incest lovers don't really want to be associated with pedophiles either, at least that's my understanding.  Apparently being a pedophile is like farting in church - nobody wants to sit next to you!

I almost feel it necessary to insert a disclaimer here, saying that I don't partake in any of those activities, they are pretty far outside of my personal comfort zone. I was a sexual abuse victim courtesy of a pedophile, and while I don't believe the experience changed me greatly, it's not something I'd wish upon any other child.

What I want to do is impart a bit of a civics lesson, I want to practice something I always preached when faced with problems of this sort, and tell folks if they don't like the system the way it is, they should call their legislator. I don't particularly want anyone to think I am 'taking a stand' with pedophiles, zoophilics, coprophiliacs, and incest fetishists, but I can't help planting my tongue firmly in cheek, and giving them some 'advice' . . .

You have the right to be protected from government censorship of your speech, but even that has limits - inciting a riot is going to be trouble, taking part in a criminal conspiracy isn't protected speech either, and you don't have much for freedom of speech rights when under oath in a courtroom.

Credit Card processors have rights of their own. Private companies, for the most part - within certain limits, have the ability to choose their customers. They have some freedoms too, ya know . . .

When a US court gives coprophiliacs some sort of 'protected class' status - then you'll be able to sue for discrimination. Here is a link to a simple wiki article describing the current protected classes - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Protected_class . . . Lacking the status as a 'protected class' - coprophiliacs will probably always face discrimination . . .

You should realize how the system works, and what would need to change for your rights to be protected. It takes legislation to create a protected class, so rather than fighting and bickering here, which isn't going to change anything, I'd suggest you call your local legislators and ask them to stand up for your right to eat shit . . .

You know, if one person, just one person does it they may think he's really sick and they won't listen. And if two people, two people do it, in harmony, they may think they're both sickos, and they won't take listen to them. And three people do it, three, can you imagine, three people walking in telling a legislator they want to eat shit and then walking out. They may think it's an organization. And can you, can you imagine fifty people a day,I said fifty people a day walking in telling their legislator they want their right to eat shit protected and then walking out. Well friend,s they may think it's a movement!

My apologies to Arlo Guthrie for the liberties I took with his lyrics . . .

This was a very simple and very condensed version of a civic's lesson folks should have spent about a week learning about back when they were in school.

now THAT's a love bite . . .

I don't suffer from erectile dysfunction (at least not yet - I'd imagine as men age it's an issue we'll all face someday if we live long enough) so I can't help but snickering a little at this information about the Brazilian wandering spider, purported to be among the most venomous of it's kind . . .

The Brazilian wandering spider is one of the most venomous spiders in the world (currently listed in the Guinness World Records as *the* most venous spiders), but luckily their fangs are poorly adapted for attacking mammals so the bite is unlikely to kill you. Instead, if you're a man you'll sport a very painful erection for several hours.

Our friends at Pfizer and Lily ain't got nothin' on Mother Nature . . .

And please remember, my dear reader, as per TV commercials for Viagra and Cialis . . . For erections lasting more than four hours, please seek immediate medical attention!

Falling for Ice Storms and Undeserved Reputation

Don't like the weather?

Well then just stick around, it'll change!

One of the significant joys of living in the Midwest is the weather extremes we see.  Sitting the the middle of a vast continent, with no significant bodies of water nearby to moderate temps and weather effects, we get to see Mother Nature as an extremely variable and rather capricious Goddess . . .

Today's adventure with weather was an ice storm.  We'd been gone for the weekend, off visiting the couple we are mentoring.  They live about an hour and a half from us, so it's not a terribly long drive, but it's not close enough for casual visits, especially when time seems to simply evaporate when we are together.

What seems like 45 minutes of play often turns out to have taken two or three hours.  I guess the old adage about time flying when having fun has more than a little measure of truth.  Lots of incredible fun was had by all, including Serafina's first efforts at rope bondage with another woman (hot!)!

The local forecast called for freezing rain this morning, and for once the weather man delivered on his promise, waking up this morning we were greeted by a thick coat of ice.  Just after breakfast, when I stepped out to check on the conditions, I took a slide, then a fall.

Fortunately, the hotel's hot tub helped to mitigate some of the falls effects, but the somewhat tense ride home on partially icy roads encouraged my body to stiffen up pretty good . . .

I was planning on doing a bullet point list of highlights from the weekend (there were many) but I find myself feeling a little addled in the brain, as the pain pills I took to counter the effects of my fall have already kicked in as I sat to write this post.  So I'll just leave you, my dear reader with the one that had me smiling, just before, and even after, I fell flat on my ass . . .

First, I'll ask you to picture Serafina and I sitting with the other couple this morning, eating our complimentary breakfasts together in a crowded upscale hotel lounge.

As we were quietly enjoying our meals together,I looked across the table and saw what looked like a 'shadow' on "d's" wrist ( "d" is the the lady submissive who's the fairer half of the couple I'm mentoring.)  Fearing that the 'shadow' was actually a bruise from the many hours of rope bondage we'd inflicted on "d" over the course of Friday and Saturday nights, I asked if the skin discoloration I was seeing was actually bruise.

To put the question into context, I should add that we've all grown very comfortable together, and quite obviously as I'm mentoring and playing with them, I speak in pretty graphic terms with my friend B (a convenient name for "d's" husband so they have the initials B&D or B/d.)   And, because we had the entire pool area to ourselves while enjoying the hot-tub together Saturday night, we'd never had to be discrete in our conversation for the better part of our three day weekend of play.

Forgetting for a moment where we were, "B" rather innocently asked, "So, you are thinking the bruise might be a rope mark from the bondage?"  As it always seems to happen at moments like that, what had been a loud room all morning suddenly seemed to quiet just as "B" asked his question.

Oh my dear reader, four faces were red, at least for a moment, until we all burst out laughing, giggling together like the outrageous confidants we've become.  I didn't look around the room to gauge reactions, but it did seem as though the room quickly got even louder than before, perhaps everyone switched to talking about us!

In the end, when I think about it, I'd rather be known as the guy who left the rope marks than as the guy who fell flat on his ass in the parking lot.  Oh, and in case anyone was curious, the mark was an old scar, so despite my new found reputation, I'm not really the guy who left rope marks at all, at least not long lasting ones . . .

rope marks on "d's" wrists

Quote, news, etc.

"Bad BDSM is much like any other kind of bad sex and for the same reasons. Good BDSM is much like any other kind of good sex and for the same reasons. If either is impersonal and done by the numbers, it will disappoint. If either is done with real feelings, passion and a sense of connection, it will deliver beyond expectations.
Kink isn't the key factor here. It's the ability to connect with another human being."
    --  Ernest Greene

Ernest Green has been part of the BDSM community as long as I can remember, so it's a privilege to have him as a friend on FetLife, where I continually find him offering observations worthy of "breadcrumbs" . . .

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I find myself posting here very rarely these days, for which I apologize to you, my dear reader.  There's more than enough juicy and titillating tidbits to share happening here between Serafina and myself, I just never seem to find the time (or motivation) to write.  I believe it's a case of writer's block, mixed in with a measure of seasonal depression, flavored with a tinge of distraction.

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