HNT: Red Hot

One night, this was what I greeted a visit from the Satyr in.

I was suitably gratified by his dropped jaw. ^_^

Taken, as always, by the Satyr shortly after said greeting.

On the State of Masculinity

Guys suck. I have been of this opinion for a long time now.

This is not to say that MEN suck. Men are a completely different species from guys. Men have some spark of intelligence, men revel in their masculinity, men laugh heartily and scowl fiercely, and men have complete control of themselves.

It can make me physically sick to look around myself and find that the males present are often so broken, narrow or shallow. Some will nurture just one characteristic and ignore the others, some are still lost and finding themselves, many adopt the accepted societal view on what makes a man, which I would quite like to tear into shreds. Rip it apart with bare hands and teeth and scatter it in minuscule particles on the four winds, actually.

For me, the five pillars of masculinity are: Passion, integrity, honour, intelligence and vitality. Whenever someone asks me what I want in a partner, though I flounder around on details these five always make it onto the list. Integrity, honour and intelligence are pretty self-explanatory. Passion does not necessarily mean a super romantic dinner or a good hard fuck, though both are nice. I mean more along the lines of being more emotionally loud, getting excited about things. Vitality for me covers energy and physical fitness. Granted there are still those that I consider Men who lack maybe one of these qualities, but never more than one.

Being a submissive, for me being able to control is also essential. But to quote from Gor, in order for a Man to Master a slave he must first master himself. Having all of the above really counts for nothing without having the self control to implement and maintain it.

There is more to masculinity than acting 'macho', suppressing visible emotional outbursts and following the rugby/cricket/whatever. I would much rather have a man who can burst into tears and recover with dignity and strength than one who shows no emotion, or worse just doesn't feel or understand such passions.

HNT: Shy

I seem to have been neglecting my blog lately. Again the outside world interferes. But not quite to the extent that I neglect my HNT (or TNT, as the case may be).
HHNT everyone.

'Never without my permission'

I know there are some that, given that I'm into BDSM and particularly Gor, would look at me rather oddly when I say how important consent is. Just because I like to give up control, doesn't mean I'll do it for just anyone, or that anyone can take it from me.

So I am particularly disturbed when I hear about cases of non-consensual slavery and BDSM. Its not a game that you can play with just anyone, or drag people into without thought or against their will, because the consequences can be grave.

A few nights ago there was a documentary on about such a case, a woman in the states being kept for years, with her captor taking cues and inspiration from several sources I'm familiar with. I felt compelled to watch because, hey, my chosen lifestyle inspired this wacko, and I can't help but wonder what would have happened if there had been no scene to draw inspiration from. Luckily someone else in the house just turned it off.

You can't even say that there is a fine line with such play. You either want it, or you don't, and I've had enough experience of the latter to be able to say that with certainty. I just find it so sad that there's far too much abuse in the name of play happening, and wish strength to those who need to escape.

Bonus points to whoever knows where the title quote comes from.

HNT - So, are you going to use that on me?

Well, are you?

Sub-Space

Look, I'm back! (Actually I've been back for a couple of days now, just been floundering too much to post.)

Last weekend we had a two-day repeat of 'The Party', except it was located at the beach bach of Satyr's parents, and we were also lacking Phoenix and Kiana's now ex partner, which put a bit of a strain on Satyr as the only dom present to tend to three horny subs, though I think he enjoyed. But I'll do the complete write-up of the weekend later.

On Sunday I got quite thoroughly tied up. The two couches were set up facing each other with my mink blanket spread out between them, on which I knelt. Loops of rope were secured about my knees and tied to the legs of the couch in front of me, then I was bent down so my front rested on the courteously placed cushions and my cuffed wrists were stretched out beneath me, between my widely spread knees and secured to the couch behind me. While I had wriggle room, it wasn't much, and I certainly felt secure, and vulnerable with my ass right up in the air.

Once I knew those ropes were secure, I hit instant sub-space. Its a ... well, I can't quite say 'elevation' of awareness, because its not. Its the complete opposite actually. My scope of awareness is narrowed to just me, and whatever anyone may be doing to me. Even when I can force my eyes open I barely register what I'm seeing and hardly ever have a visual memory later on. I can only vaguely hear what's happening nearby. Despite Satyr's wicked whisperings of what would happen to me later, my mind couldn't stretch that far, couldn't focus on what might be. All I could think about was the way he was touching me then, or not touching me, or the aching need to be touched and caressed and dominated. My whole world gets narrowed down to a rush of endorphins and the shocking pleasure of touch, of the ecstatic surrender of consciousness and inhibitions. I cannot even control myself enough to serve in any way, other than with pure responsiveness, and can only hope that's enough.

I think I just made myself horny ...