Coughing… and New Years

This is one of those blogs you shouldn’t read at work…

We bought a ton of food for our guests at the New Years Open House at HOX.  Great food is warm and sensual and just uhhh.. ahhhhh… almost as good as sex.  Food is almost as good as sex but it isn’t AS good as sex.. how could it be?  Sex is fucking awesome…

Have you heard of “Pompoir” or the “Singaore Kiss”?  Richard Francis Burton (born 1820) who spoke 29 languages is credited with translating text on this subject.   In another translation this time of:  Ananga-Ranga or The Hindu art of love, aka “Lizzat al-Nisa or “The Pleasures of women” in Arabic, and in India known as Kama Shastra,  we find the following words translated from Sanskrit…

Moreover, at times of enjoying Purushayita the wife will remember that without especial exertion of will on her part, the husband’s pleasure will not be perfect. To this end she must ever strive to close and constrict the Yoni until it holds the Linga, as, with a finger, opening and shutting at her pleasure, and finally acting as the hand of the Gopal-girl, who milks the cow.

This can be learned only with long practice, and especially by throwing the will into the part to be affected, even as men endeavor to sharpen their hearing, and their sense of touch. While so doing, she will mentally repeat “Kama-deva! Kamadeva,” in order that a blessing may rest upon the undertaking.

And she will be pleased to hear that the act once learned, is never lost. Her husband will then value her above all women, nor would he exchange her for the most beautiful Pani (queen) in the three worlds. So lovely and pleasant to man is she who constricts.

It is the last paragraph I wish to point out.   A man may feel blind devotional love for a woman who is plain.  He may see no other beauty.   Vain women who try to catch his eye, flirting and testing to see if they can attract…will fail.  The past pleasure he has felt, and the pleasure he knows is his in the future, keep him ever thinking of the one he loves.

A woman with this talent can sit on her man cowgirl style and “milk” him without outward movement.  Sounds like a talent right up there with learning to tie a cherry stem with your tongue…something every man should be able to do…  Seems to me a woman benefits more from that tongue talent than a man…

That or she can cough…  After orgasm.. if Izrina coughs while I am still in her, its almost too pleasurable..   Yea Gads!   Sorry New year’s banquet.. you may be delicious and bountiful and good but you’re not THAT good!

 

Carpe Diem my friends,  be someone’s great day!

HOX is a home

HOX.. or the House of X..  is a home.   The only difference is that my slave and I live the Ds way of life 24x 7 and we want to give back to the community that has given us so much. I love my home, my life, and my slave.

Recently my thoughts have turned to how we don’t become another casually of all the BDSM raids that have happened over the years.  As far as I know, I am allowed to have a dinner party and have guests.   We are not a business.  We don’t exchanging goods or services in return for anything.   We are not a “club”.   We don’t have rules or officers or dues.   There are no membership cards…

Still, it worries me.  The vigilantes, do-gooders, and zealots I have seen do harm over the years worries me quite a bit.   Worse still are the folks you know for five years and then suddenly turn on you.  Izrina and I are trying to do something good here for people who have no space.. and yet there are and always will be assholes that just have to shit where others eat.  I really just don’t understand hate…

Some days I think Terry Brooks was writing fact when he wrote “Running with the Demon”.   Good read that one..  Basically, in the book, demons are real but of course the modern scientific thinking humans with all their gadgets don’t believe in them.. which leaves the demons free to sow hatred, greed, corruption, and other forms of evil.   The world is changing right before their eyes and the people can’t see it.. The world is taking a slow plunge into hell just as the demons would have it and no one gets it.   It’s something to think about, that’s for sure.

I am not for the other way either.  Organized religion is as bad if not worse.  The world may need a cleansing but not by the sword and not by any religion seeking dominance over all other religions.  War is war no matter who does it.  I don’t trust anyone that has the one and only “word of God”.

Increasingly, even in community, I don’t feel a deep kinship that comes without strings.  Everything it seems has a price..  a sad observation that I refuse to accept as universal. Let’s keep that one firmly in the category of observation and not truth.. shall we?

That which we give focus to comes to pass.  Best to focus on positives while doing what can be done about the negatives.  The trick is to just do and let go.. Don’t give energy  to negatives.. Don’t give focus to negatives..  Recognize a need and do.. then dismiss it.  Hate does hurt those that hold it.. speaking of which. its time to send in my plea for that freakin ticket… sigh…

Lots to do today and its not getting done sitting here at my computer.  Carpe Diem my friends..  Be a force for good and in so doing lift yourself…  Be someone’s great day!

 

 

Leather sister

I am in a leather group.  There are rules and protocols and we recently got together to reaffirm our affiliation and to honor one of our own with a leather vest.  Ideally, leather is bestowed upon a member, by the group.

For example, a year or two ago we bestowed a cap on Master Karl.  A few nights ago we bestowed a leather vest upon Strong_Willed.  Both are brothers and wonderful people. Now to the crux of my thoughts here.

In our group we have Masters and Dominants.  They come with slaves and submissives.  Most of our leather family Dominants want their slave or submissive to be in the leather family as a full member… with a vote in family decisions.  I was a lone objector.

My slave is my property.  Her decisions are my decisions.  Her will is an extension of my own.  She is NOT equal.  In my mind there needed to be a difference between persons brought in as property and persons brought in as associates.

Realistically, if property is brought in as equals,  I suspect that every dominan in the family gets two votes because their slave or submissive will vote as told.  I gave up my extra vote because I wanted to set an example…

That is not to say that Izrina is not in all other ways a leather sister to members.  She will serve the interests of the group.  She will do as she is volun-told.   She will love and support her other brothers and sisters.

It sucks being alone in my thinking, but at least my family understands me.  They know that I am adamant about my property being clearly identified as property.   This is not the end of the dilemmas though.

We are also pledging a submissive without an owner as a member.  What happens when she takes an owner?   Ahhh…  the fun of being in a family.   At the end of the day, if everyone can respect each other and we all strive to get along, it will work.

Being caring, loving and supporting is more important than rules.   I trust my brothers and sisters to do the right thing always.  If we ever reach an impasse I would bow out of the family gracefully.   I hope that day never comes.   The single most important thing you can have is people that love you.    Carpe Diem my friends..  Be someone’s great day!

Sheriff of Nottingham

You know that thing where you are traveling down a road and then suddenly and for no apparent reason the speed limit drastically lowers and ten feet after you pass the sign there are flashing lights behind you???   Yeah, that thing happened the other night.

I thought the speed limit was 55….. and I was doing 50..  so I thought I was five mph under… turns out for a few hundred feet after I missed the sign I was ten mph over.

I know that hate hurts the one that holds if but for days I’ve been angry about this.  I want to be supportive of the police.. I really do.. and I think many of the problems that people complain about they brought on themselves…  but every time I speak to a cop I feel like someone just walked up to my car with a black hood and an execution axe.

Yes.. its my fault for missing the sign, but you don’t know this road.  First the speed is this, then that, and then something different again.  The speed limit goes up and down and down and up for no rhyme.  Its not for towns or business as far as i can tell.  Knowing this I was JUST turning on my GPS to give me extra speed warnings (which tells you that I was trying to keep track of the stupid changes) Too late!

If you miss a sign you are in danger until the next one.  Further down that road we drove at 35 for two miles until I finally decided it MUST be 55 now since there were no speed limits being posted for miles.. I know there were no signs… we both watched very closely looking for the return to normal speed…  So yeah. I did wrong but its also wrong to pounce on someone right after a change like that…especially on a road like that.

I’m white… I hear its worse when you are black..  I can’t image what it’s like if your fear of cops was worse…    All I know is I try really hard to be a law abiding citizen and I still cringe every time I see a cop.  And I don’t think its their fault necessarily…

If the acting king wants more gold squeezed from the peasants is it really the Sheriff’s fault?  Sure… to be the Sheriff of Nottingham you have to have to be a soulless prick with no heart beating in your chest and I am sure many a cop are power hungry sadists who wanted the tin badge and to be all important… but I also think there are good cops… I also think those kind are the minority.  I think 1 in 20 of my experiences with a cop has been good.

At the heart of my anger is the desire to change things… what can I do?   I really think the reason a cop lies in wait like that without granting a break is because they wanted to write another ticket on any victim they could trap..  Sigh…  So do they do that because they are soulless or because the town wants the gold???    What makes a cop look for juicy opportunities to write questionable tickets?

As I drove into work today there was a maroon vehicle weaving in and out of traffic going much faster than the flow of traffic.  The crazy slowed for U turn spots where cops like to sit.  I hoped to see that asshole get theirs… but of course it was someone else with flashing lights up ahead.  I just shook my head… It’s folks like me.. that are trying to do the right thing, I fear.. that get to feed the courts…

Justice is only served to what the cops see and what they see is only going to be what they look for.   I sat in a traffic court not too long ago and counted the fines up… They wrote maybe $10,000 in fines that one night..  That’s big business…  what happens to a town if that income dries up?   Why logically the town demands that the cops write more tickets.. I would think..   The whole system sucks….   I know I shouldn’t stay angry.. I’m trying….  I don’t even know who to be angry with..  probably not the Sheriff of knottingham….

____..)/..________..)/..________..)/..________..)/..________..)/..______
¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯¯¯¯

And now the BDSM hook….

When I am pulled over, I am always asked… Where are you coming from?… Where are you going?   That particular night I was coming from a leather family meeting.    If you are caught off guard by that question you might just offer up an answer that will cause problems for the community.   I’ve seen way too many sites closed because of loose lips.

When  asked, I answered… “I’m coming from visiting friends”.   “We are going home”.   The last thing you want to do is give any BDSM related hints or details.  Make a note now folks.. that’s a tip I beg you to remember..  Not too long ago someone answered FMB.. and that caused tremendous problems with state and local law enforcement.

Remember that a place to play is a blessing.  No matter how pissed you may get at a place or people in it, don’t fuck the community ot the people by outing them.   When FMB opened, I thought that at last we had a safe place to play.  It was on a private residence, and there were no immediate neighbors.  I can’t go into leather family details but suffice to say FMB is under siege from within and from without.  The family is discussing what to do.

People treat this wonderful space like something they can just turn over to the better business bureau.   Or worse… complain about to the police… The simple fact is that when you seek justice in the community.. be it for a predator, a consent violator, a complaint about service, or whatever…  the heavy wheels of justice are not going to do what you think.

It is the nature of our predicament.   We are pariahs.  To some we are sick individuals who need to go to jail or counseling or a psychiatric ward.   We lead double lives.  When we have a great evening we often can’t tell our co-workers or closest family and friends what a wonderful evening we had.   We may never be able to come out of the closet as many of our LGBT brothers and sisters have.   Forgive me for being negative for a moment here.. but most people are blind, self absorbed, unthinking sheep…. It takes thought, reflection, an open mind, and lots of research on both sides of an argument to have even a modicum of  wisdom…

It’s a blessing to have a safe place to meet and play but there are always idiots can’t be happy or satisfied or even understand just what they have.  There will always be people who have to complain and make demands and threats and ruin it for everyone.   That or they treat a BDSM play space like something you can talk about with everyone and anyone.. It’s not.  We have double lives for a reason.  BDSM is NOT ready to come out of the closet.

We have people from all over the country that want to come and teach at FMB and soon it may not even be a thing.  Some days I want to just pack it all in, settle down somewhere off the grid with my slave and never leave the house.   Or maybe I’m just turning into a crotchety, grumpy old fuck.  Yeah… might be the latter thing…

Ah well.  The sun is shining and it isn’t as cold as it has been the last few days…  Go forth my friends and be someone’s great day!

 

 

The YELLOW shirt..a cautionary tale..

Gather round boys and girls and pull up a spot at the floor here at my feet.  Master X has a tale to tell.

 

The yellow shirt

Once there was a total power exchange slave who was very beautiful.  The Master she served was very happy with his property.. she was easy on the eyes and obedient but not always as obedient as he’d like and not always as grateful for the gift of his dominance as he’d like.

Like any good Master he set about to correct these things, often cautioning his slave that while slavery was consensual and she could exercise her right to withdraw consent, that this was a power not unlike the nuclear option.. the first time she used that power might be the last time as his slave.

All was going fairly well and so one particular day he decided to reward her.  “Put on the black slinky dress with the slit up the side I’m taking you shopping”, he said.  Her heart raised..  Master was taking her shopping!

The first stop was a nice clothing store and they browsed the dresses, red ones, black ones, and dark blue..   When Master found one appealing he sent her to the dressing room.   There she would slip out of her black dress, and slide the silky new one over her skin.  Then came the fun part..  parading out in the new dress for Master to admire.

As his eyes critically examined how the dress flowed over her firm breasts and fell between her legs… she flushed with excitement… and got a little wet… thinking how good it was to have Master desire her in this way.   She tried to steal a glance at his trousers… secretly hoping he was excited too..

Master selected two dresses.  She was a little disappointed about one not being selected but when the went to a second store, the excitement started all over again.  Master purchase one dress at the second store.. then there was a third and fourth store…

When they got home Master was followed by a very happy slave carrying a handful of wonderful new dresses.  She lovingly put all of them up on hangers in her closet.  She smoothing and stoked them, anxious to see which one Master would order her to wear first.

As she was finishing, Master came into the room and announced that he would be taking her out tonight  He tossed an old unwashed yellow shirt on the bed.  “Wear this” he said.

“But…. but… but”, said his slave….  “I have so many wonderful new dresses. Can’t I wear one of these?”, She asked.   “Just put on the yellow shirt”, he replied.   She stuck out her bottom lip and flopped on the bed.   Sad eyes and pouting, she looked at Master pleading.   He taped his foot.   “PUT ON THE SHIRT” he commanded in a loud voice.  She crossed her arms and pouted….  “I don’t want to”, she said.

Master spoke slowly, and deliberately.   “A Master should not have to repeat themselves, and they definitely should be obeyed.   I am only going to say this one more time.  Put on the shirt”, he said flatly.

Now a smart slave would have been struck with fear at those words.   A smart slave would have complied.  But this was a slave that wasn’t learning.  She didn’t understand that a Master is not to be trifled with.  She sat there, defiant with her arms crossed.

Her Master simply said, “fine.. I’m going out”.  Then he turned and walked out the door.  She was disappointed that she didn’t get to go with him.. and began to rethink her choices but it was too late.   So she sat on the bed and waited… and waited.. and waited.. until she fell asleep.

When she woke in the morning Master had not returned but there was a note by the bed.   It said simply:  “nuclear option”.   She was struck dumb with fear.   She quickly ran to the yellow shirt and put it on.  When Master finally returned he would find her in it.   She waited, and waited.   The next day found her still wearing the yellow shirt and still no Master.   So the days went until finally she took off the shirt and hung it in the closet with all the beautiful dresses.

 

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¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯””/(”¯¯

 

The yellow shirt, part two

Earlier this month it was Izrina’s birthday.   She had been dropping hints about things she might like for her birthday.. or for Christmas.  Clearly she was very interested in what wonderful gift Master might bestow.. especially since on birthday’s past she had received wonderful gifts.. like a collar of consideration.. or a collar of training…

We had guests for dinner.. others gathered to help celebrate her birthday.  So when I walked in with a bag that said “Happy Birthday” on the side of it and black tissue paper coming out of the top, she fairly beamed with happiness.   “You can’t have this yet”, I said and placed it by my chair at the head of the dining room table.

Supper was laid out..  the protocol dishes all just so.. the food steaming and hot on the plates when I finally reached down and handed her the gift.   “Happy birthday dear”, I said.

She pulled out the black tissue paper and pulled out a  shirt.  “It’s very yellow” is all she said.   “Put it on”, I said.   Izrina looked at me… and complied..   It was fuzzy and not exactly the best shirt for a birthday meal… but she put it on.   “Good… now we can eat”, I said.

Some of the guests knew the story of the yellow shirt, some may have not.   So as folks ate their meal I dove into a telling of the story….. so that others would understand. The yellow shirt was a symbol of something we should all do.. appreciate what we have.  Especially in this season.

During this time of year, when people turn their thoughts and hearts to the miracles around us and we feel a little more compassion for those close to us, it is a good time to remember that appreciation comes in the little things.  Its not what the future holds or in what the past has brought us, but in what we have right here and now.  It about the happiness we bring to other.. when we strive to be someone’s great day.

As the story wound down, I reached into my vest pocket and took out a card.  In it was a very expensive gift…  a romantic gift….   a real gift..   For a worthy slave in whom the Master she serves is well pleased…

 

Carpe Diem my friends..  Be someone’s great day…

 

 

 

 

Protocols by RJ Rubel PhD

I am currently reading “Protocols – Handbook for the female slave” by Robert J Rubel, PhD.  The thing that strikes me is how much of what is in this book, we already do.

Take the dining protocol for example.  A slave serves from the left and takes from the right. For slaves just getting used to this, I always ask what direction the words in a book are presented to their eyes.. left to right.. in English anyway..  Food is presented the same way.  That’s a little trick to help you remember…

I suspect some of the protocols we have acquired are actually handed down from high society etiquette from centuries past.  interesting point that…

Some of the forms like standing at attention might have roots in the military.  A Master or owner may command silence with a gesture you’ve seen in every commando movie.. Arm raised straight up and down with a closed fist.. which means “silence!” How many times have you seen that in an action movie where a commando does that gesture to cause everyone to pause?  At least once I am sure…

Robert observes that as an employer he gives performance reviews and suggests that the practice makes sense for slaves as well.  He also notes that motivation requires we give minimal focus to the negatives.  We can brush over these by simply observing that these areas need work.  On the other hand we should give great attenton to the success and praise.  This helps build the slaves confidence and trust.

I agree. The reason a relation falls apart ( I think) is that the parties begin to focus exclusively on that which is problematic.  I find in all of my dealings, both nilla and BDSM, that people in general respond much better when you listen and offer positive feedback.

We as a society seem entirely too focused on finding fault* and don’t nearly give enough attention to the things we can be thankful for.  It is well established that appreciation builds a healthy mind and body…. so it only makes sense that we should spend more time on the things to appreciate.

*examples – The shame culture that digs way back in to a person’s past then does not support forgiveness, fails to recognize change (based on current behavior), demands that respect be earned (respect is lost, not earned.. it is a reflection of  your values not the person you give it to-anything less and you are rude), etc

That is not to say that we should not be honest with ourselves regarding our fears, failures, and sadness… It just means that we should encourage these things to not be long lived… a phase of healing and improvement that we trudge through and then get on with our lives.  It is best that our focus and our major time be spent in appreciation of the happier things in life.

Anyway, the book is a good read for anyone considering slavery.  I highly recommend it.

Its been a brutal few days of cold, ice, and snow… but its also a beautiful winter wonderland just out side my window.   I love the look of fresh fallen snow, the trees heavy with ice..  Yes there are things to hate in that, but what would the point be in putting my focus there?  Carpe Diem my friends, be someone’s great day!