One of the topics that’s been discussed some lately is the fact that sometimes dominants give commands that don’t quite seem like commands.
I suppose that must seem very odd to submissives, that we do that. We can, so easily it seems, just give that command.
We can TELL you what to do.
So why don’t we just TELL you sometimes?
There’s often a reason, you know.
You could do your child’s math homework. You know, at least one hopes you know, how to do fractions. If you were looking to solve the problem of the answer to the equation of 2 2/3 times 3 and 3/8ths, you understand the process.
You find the common denominator and translate the equations into those common denominators, you multiply ...Read More
You know, I was thinking today, as I was making cookies, that it’s probably odd to many vanilla people, or would be if they read some of our blogs, and might even be strange to some kinky folks that we talk about so many non-kinky things in blogs.
I think for me, this is less about kink than it is about me, and being kinky, while a huge part of my makeup, is not the only thing I am. I am always a kinky person, but not everything I do revolves around kink.
I probably view things a bit differently because I am kinky, but there is still the non-kinky stuff of life, like making cookies and doing laundry and going to the grocery.
It would be nice, I suppose, to have this life where I never had to deal with those things, where some nameless elf slaves did all that and I sat on the sofa eating ...Read More
I got some things done and I feel much less overwhelmed.
The dining room is taking shape. We, meaning slave drew, put up a shelf piece and we did the window treatment we’d planned – I have a window that looks into an added-on garage, and the view was not lovely.
We figured out some of the lighting, which took longer than you might think because it also involved drilling holes in the cabinet itself to reach the outlet.
I found my crock pot meaning, oops, I had to find a place for my crock pot. I did, however.
I got to the grocery and mostly figured out what I’m doing and when and where and what I need for it.
I got my nails done. In honor of the James Bond movies drew and I have watched lately, the color I picked is, “The Spy Who Loved Me.”
Bright kind of cherry red, with a bit of gli...Read More
As those who know me very well know, I love poetry. I have memorized poetry since I was 12 or so. My mother memorized poetry, too. She was as likely to recite poetry to me as to read to me.
One of my favorite poets is Sara Teasdale, one of those tragic female poets who offs themselves before 50. She was the love of Vachel Lindsay, another tragic poet that committed suicide in true poetic fashion, drinking a bottle of lye.
In any case, one of the continuing themes I have always found in her work, and likely one of the reasons I identified with her, even then, was dominance and submission. I could name – and recite – at least a dozen poems of her that have a strong flavor of D/s.
The single poem of hers in which I see that dynamic so strongly is this one...Read More
Perhaps that should be “Unreasonable Expectations?” Question mark and all.
I am wondering if my expectations are too high too often. I got some information today that made me think that.
Not terrible news at all, something that is actually the outcome that I preferred and thought was the best option, and something I expected, too. I think it will end up being a learning experience for everyone involved, myself as well, and that’s a good thing to take away.
But it made me think.
I don’t think I expect more of others than I expect of myself. That is said, by the way, with a genuine sense of self-examination, not as an arch justification. I don’t *think* that I do. I have fairly high expectations for myself. I take on a lot of responsibilities. I follow through with them...Read More
We had our monthly SIG meeting this afternoon. It was a topic I always enjoy, Deal Breakers and Non-Starters.
We meet for some social time before the discussion because, well, because you can’t get kinky people together and expect them not to be social, even if there’s an agenda.
So, we socialize for a bit before, then, about the time the food usually arrives, I read the list of questions aloud, if people have questions they ask then, and then we break into three separate groups, dominants, submissives and switches.
We are lucky enough to have a fairly large population of switches, or, perhaps the fact that switches have been welcomed here, they feel more comfortable claiming that identity than they might...Read More
So, yesterday I wrote about my own unconventional wedding, long, long ago.
Yesterday I went to a barbecue, a Fourth of July cookout.
I had friends that I knew had decided to elope on Independence day, but silly me, I thought they’d go to Gatlinburg, or Memphis or something. No, they decided to get married at the cookout.
It was approximately 1000 degrees outside yesterday. Or maybe 2000.
It was fucking HOT.
The groom wore a handsome black suit with dress shirt and tie, the bride wore a lovely black and white cocktail dress, along with her steel collar and cuffs, which she wear all the time.
It was a kinky wedding, so a friend had gotten himself ordained online in honor of the occasion, the vows were written on the fly...Read More
Today is the anniversary of my first wedding.
I married Beth the first time on July 4th, 1981.
So, the first time we “married,” we said it to ourselves in Cazenovia, New York, under some trees, while fireworks went off overhead. My ring was a silver one with a small blob of silver in place of a stone. I have no idea what ever happened to it, I’ve not seen it in 20 years, anyway.
The next year, however, we did it up and had a big ol’ gay wedding. It was, of course, illegal everywhere then, so there was no legal ceremony.
We were married by a Unitarian Universalist minister, Father Tim, who suffered so much guilt over the fact that we were not able to legally marry that we always expected him to write us a check.
He and his wife were what slave drew calls “crunchy” types...Read More
One of the things I truly enjoy is conversation.
I have always held that great conversation is nearly as stimulating as great sex, while good conversation is far better than bad sex. Good conversation imparts information, allows us to communicate with others. Communication requires a shared language.
Towards that end, I wanted to speculate on the definitions of some of the words we use.
One of the essential requirements of conversation is that we all agree to a specific set of building blocks that we will use for that purpose, namely language. I believe that the better we use and understand language the more precise our communication will be...Read More
I do monthly classes here in Louisville, on “BDSM Basics.” I had one a couple of weeks ago on safety. We talked about both the kind of safety as in, how and where you can strike people safely, but we also talked about some other aspects of safety, which for me boil down to behaving rationally, knowing the people you play with.
The thing that struck me, though, was an email I had gotten from someone who had signed up for the class. I send out a reminder because anyone who wants to attend needs to get pre-registered, so I know who’s coming and they know where to go.
So I sent an email to one guy who had signed up for the class. He’s pretty new in terms of the community, six or eight months, I think, and considers himself a Top.
In other words, one might think he’s precisely the perso...Read More