Caution-Rant Ahead.

Somedays I feel that I should be surrounded by caution tape. For the rants are coming and I can feel them. Maybe I should try some type of bondage and just wrap caution tape around myself and warn people to just stay away. It would be easy if we could do that here and there. It is easy on BloggerVille, just put it in your title and people will probably read it! Put it around yourself and people would probably come just to snoop and see what the caution is. Either way, I guess it doesn't matter, people are going to look, peek, snoop, nose around, because it is like a trainwreck. We have to see what we aren't supposed to look at.

I just feel like ranting today and my topic of the day, Hypocrites.

hypocrite [ˈhɪpəkrɪt]


n

a person who pretends to be what he is not

[from Old French ipocrite, via Late Latin, from Greek hupokritēs one who plays a part, from hupokrinein to feign, from krinein to judge]


People who use this lifestyle, this way of life, or whatever your label is, as an excuse. Yes, they use it as an excuse. An excuse to be something they are not, nor could they ever be. They use it as an excuse to con people into believing they are something they could never be. Because they need validation, or perhaps to just use to with the guise of getting kink. I know that sounds cynical, but it does grow weary with this lovely thing we have, the internet.

Anyone can be a dominant, a submissive, or master, slave, anyone can be whatever they want to be. I believe those traits are inherent, natural, not self-professed, not labeled, not because I want to get in your pants, and I found out what you need, so therefore I will pretend to be something you want/need.

And I have seen this for many years, and grow worse every year. The predators out there, the wannabes, the posers, the people who posture. And I wonder, why, why, why? Why not just tell someone you want to practice kink, why not just tell people that you are not sure what you are, maybe you are searching to find out, and in all honesty, not quite sure. I guess I will never understand the concepts behind those type of lies. Maybe they are truly deluding themselves, into thinking they are something they are not.

And I can see that if one is younger and less experienced, but some of these people have been "practicing" this same bullshit for years. The same stories over and over, I am master/obey, I am slave/submit. I have heard the same excuses for years and years, and could probably write a 1000 page book on them. Being a widow, belonging to some forums, you hear A LOT of excuses!

Whatever happened to the art of conversation, communicating, getting to know someone and asking tons of questions with upfront answers. I mean I can say I don't like lists per se, but I have them. And I don't mind sharing them with people. I just don't list things I have tried and might not like, but might try again if the circumstances are right on them. But I do put my hardcore limits on them, and I do put what I will tolerate and what I will not. I am open to discussions. I am open to conversations. I am open to communication.

What I am not up to, is wasting my time. What I am not up to is trying to get money out of me. What I am not up to are lies upon lies and finding out the truth through other people. Or finding it out on my own. What I am not up to is, people not being who they say they are. Because if you tell me you are something, I am going to hold you to it.

Yes, I know this has been going on for ages, but it seems more prominent since the internet, and as I said grows and grows more and more every year.

Am I cynical, you bet your sweet ass.

Am I jaded, sure am.

Am I still out there trying to find faith in humanity, yep, every day.

Life goes on..............

Happy Birthday The Bastard!

Happy Birthday The Bastard!

Today would have been his 49th birthday. So instead of being sad and thinking about his death, I wish to celebrate his life! And all the wonderful memories that we shared together.

He left a hole in my heart, but he gave me memories, he gave me laughter, he gave me his love. And for that I want to wish him a Happy Birthday and celebrate with cake! He loved cake, he loved sweets!

I would like to think of him smiling down with a big piece of cake in his hand!

And you know how you are supposed to make a wish when you blow out the candles? Well since he is not here to blow them out and make the wish, I will do it for him......

"This is my wish for you: Comfort on difficult days, smiles when sadness intrudes, rainbows to follow the clouds, laughter to kiss your lips, sunsets to warm your heart, hugs when spirits sag, beauty for your eyes to see, friendships to brighten your being, faith so that you can believe, confidence for when you doubt, courage to know yourself, patience to accept the truth, Love to complete your life."


~ Author Unknown~


Life goes on...........

Middle of the Week Musings.

Happy Hump Day! Grab a handful and let's enjoy the rest of the week!

I used to look so forward to the weekends. I could not wait for the weekends. It was a time when everyone was off of work, and I was able to spend time with those that I cared about. Now it is like another day.

Another weekend, just another day. All the days are blending into one. I get up everyday and wonder what day it is, for they all seem the same. What sets apart one day to the next, from Hump Day to the weekend. I used to count down the days, I used to wish them to hurry, and now it seems that every day is the same. They pass quickly at times, and at others they drag, but they all seem the same.

I wish I had a cook, and a maid.

I have realized that submissive women need a man. I know all you women libbers that it is NOT the way it is supposed to be. But since The Bastard's death I have realized that one of the biggest reasons it was, has been so hard is that the women in my house, meaning me and Diva have felt the loss so much more than most, because we need a man. Don't get me wrong, I have been a single mother most of my adult life in those regards and I know how to run a home, how to put structure into my life, and those of my children. But submissive women need a man. It is pretty simple when you look at it. No rocket science there. We thrive with the right men, we flourish and grow with the right man.

My mother groomed me from a very small age to be a 'wife', and I have applied that to being submissive. I need a man. I was groomed to be with a man. I don't need to "take" care of a man, I need a man for all the wonderful reasons a submissive woman needs a man. I don't need a man who needs to be taken care of like one of my children.

I need a good massage, one of those deep massages with oil and nice strong hands. I have a problem with my back and I need a massage. I over extended and need a massage.

I normally use middle of the week musings to talk about things that have happened during the week, and to point out to myself all the revelations that came to be in the previous week. So today I am going over in my head all the things that I have been thinking about.

Okay, not all of them. I can't give away some of my secrets, otherwise I wouldn't have any left for myself. Those dark secrets that you keep to yourself, and don't really want to share them with anyone, because they are special and we all need secrets.

The fields behind my house are coming down and that makes me sad. It means winter is close at hand.

I hate winter. I would rather be someplace warm during those cold Illinois winter months.

I need to quit smoking.

Time to put away my flip-flops and get out the winter shoes.

I hate shoes. I like the feeling of bare feet.

Did I mention how much I hate winter?

I hope you have a good rest of the week, and I hope you have something to look forward to on the weekend.

Oh well, as I always say,

Life goes on.........

Tawdry Tuesday.

This is something I used to do on my old blog, Tawdry Tuesday. So since I have this new blog, this new place, I wanted to bring back some of the old rituals. And this is one I enjoyed. I started this on Tuesdays on those cold winter months, and they are coming again. So why not have someplace to tell stories of my past on those cold winter nights, or days, when I have nothing else to do, and bring some of my past inside with me. Those first moments of things explored, things that are fun and exciting, and hope for more to come, always hoping for more to come!

This one is about the Slut-O-Meter. How to gauge a slut in one easy lesson. Yea right, I wasn't easy but I was a slut, well according to the man I was with at the time. This was before I became accepting in my vocabulary of being a slut. Even the word slut bugged me, not because I was a prude or anything, far from that. But being a slut was something that I thought meant sleeping around with several men at once. *laughs* Like that matters now eh. Okay, back to my story.


The man I will call simply, "Sir", took me to a club for a private party. Way back in my beginnings. Before I had even had a chance to see much of that depraved world of the lifestyle. Not really a newbie, but very inexperienced. Quaintly so. We had argued, well maybe debated would be a better term, nahhh, argued about what constitutes a slut, I said, sleeping around, he said wait and see. I begged him to please tell me and give me some idea of what being a slut was. I had the right to know! Or so I thought.

He told me he would put me on his Slut-O-Meter and we could find out. Fine I snapped! I was game, always up for a challenge. We walked into the party, he gracefully took my coat, and then had the audacity to laugh at my outfit. I had on black leather pants and a white lacy shirt with jump boots. I was going to party! And then he had the nerve to tell me that I looked like a bitch ready to do battle. I batted my eyelashes at him, and said, "I am aren't I, Sir." You could hear the sarcastic tone dripping from within.

He laughed again as he grasped my wrist, a little too hard for my liking but something was making me feel that moistness down deep inside. I then noticed that his outfit almost matched mine. Save for the white lacy blouse, his was replaced with a pressed white dress shirt. The creases sharp and on edge. For a moment in time suspended in eye to eye contact, my mind went to equals, equal rights. Before I could utter protest he was undoing my leather pants, unlacing my leather boots, and shoving me down to a chair. I squealed in protest only half-felt as he undressed me like a present on Christmas morn. Right down to my lace pink panties. (yes, I still wear panties, even from that lesson long ago!)

There I sat boldly staring at him from my seat below, naked other than that scrap of pink wrapped around my waist. I defiantly crossed my legs, shielding all my glory and wetness from his view. With a savage boot they were pushed open, I hissed, he snarled, the fight was on. I went up with a hand of long tapered nails, painted in such a brilliant red, I was going to rake them across his face, but his vice like grip held tight around my wrist. I barked that he was hurting me, he replied, "Like I care slut."

I was livid, furious and wanted revenge. I tried to snake a leg in between his and found that I was held fast. Pinned in that chair like a wild beast! I smirked, thinking to throw him off with my smile of disdain. He reached his hand down to snatch a fistful of soaked panties and silken cunt. A menacing laugh came from the bellows of his mirth. And all that came out was his remembered words.......



"What a slut."

More laughter as I was ready to spit in his eye, and then he walked away, laughing, as I sat there in the chair with my mouth wide open, aghast.

I flung from the chair to go after him and beg.......I wanted more!!!

Life goes on...........