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| Non pudet, quia pudendum est.
Veninarius is one who uses poison, a witch or poisoner of wells. I am venomous out of spite and scorn for the mind-boggling stupidity that I am frequently confronted with by other members of the human race. I pray to dark gods, I have studied forbidden blasphemies. I am not a good witch.
I do not expect you to read this. It has been my experience that few, if any, ever do. Still, I am obliged to fill this space with some actual content, in the hopes that I will find some literate soul whose thoughts and opinions might mirror my own.
The first thing I feel you should know about me is that I am married. I have been married for nearly ten years now, and do not expect that to change any time soon. Ours is an open relationship, but also a very comfortable one. I do not come here in search of a playmate or quick lay. It's really not my style. My wife does not come here at all (although she is aware of this site and my presence on it), which is why this is not a couple's profile. Also, by putting this information two paragraphs down, the number of trolls writing in in the hopes of sleeping with her are vastly reduced.
My experience with S&M goes back a long time. I was aware of it and actively studying all the literature and history I could find on the subject when I was in junior high school. I lost my virginity in an S&M context, and I have never been in a purely vanilla relationship that lasted for longer than a few weeks. For all of that, I ceased to be very active in the community many years ago. I settled down with the woman I would one day marry, and for the most part have lurked on the peripheries ever since. I have an active social life which includes kinky people, but for the most part I don't tend to go to things like munches or play parties. I simply fell out of the habit a long time ago.
I do enjoy expanding my social circle, and I have made some excellent friends here in the past. I have been an active member of this site for nearly five years, under a variety of identities. Occasionally I get bored or fed up with the stupidity, delete everything, and then start fresh a few months later.
For the most part, all I am interested in is meeting new people. At the moment, I am focusing on people who live relatively close to me, with the idea of actually hanging out and doing things together. I just don't spend that much time on the internet right now. In particular, I like to meet people who share more of my "vanila" interests than the more kinky stuff - I simply prefer to keep company with people who are not shocked and offended if I should mention something about having spent the weekend tying up and caning my wife (for example). If it should turn out that there is that special spark, I am certainly amenable to having a friendship grow into something more, but it is really not what I am loking for in the short term.
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Today I managed to acquire the 25th anniversary Muppets cast album on DVD, which means I can now live out a long held fantasy: I can finally deliver a beating while Marvin Suggs and his Muppophone play "Lady of Spain" in the background. |
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So, on saturday, we went to see the Chinese New Year parade, and after the show (and some not bad but overpriced sushi near the parade route) we decided to go hang out at Wicked Grounds again while waiting for BART to let up. My wife normally is not a fan of coffee, she usually drinks tea, but the coffee at Wicked Grounds is good enough she'll drink it. We wandered in for one of Grizzly's game-night mixers, but we weren't quite feeling social enough to mingle. Still, it looks like we'll be going back again fairly often. |
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We went to Wicked Grounds this weekend, and I can honestly say that I like the place. I wasn't sure what to expect with the whole "bring your human pet" theme, but we were both pleased to find a nicely appointed and comfortable little hole-in-the-wall type cafe with a wide range of nice folks mostly minding their own business and hanging out with their friends. I felt instantly at home. The coffee was excellent, and I was pleased to notice that there was a large stack of old Dragon magazines and some Munchkin suppliments tucked away on the gaming shelf. If the weather holds, we're thinking of going back tomorrow night, after the Chinese New Years parade. |
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I'm not much of an event-goer, but I just recently found out about Wicked Grounds and their monthly "Bring your human pet" theme night. Luckily, it's happening on a sunday, which is a terribly convenient time for me and my wife. It isn't so convenient for our roommate, who seems to be dead-set on us spending our sunday nights playing D&D with him and his crew. Normally not a bad way to spend a weekend, we both being uber-geeks, but I find it funny that, though he's been married for years and has three children, he gets irked at our insistance that we like to reserve our one mutual day off for being a couple together, which usually includes a good amount of sex. Romantic that he is, he's gone off to Dundracon this weekend, leaving his wife alone with the kids for valentines day. He has no clue why I occassionally look at the way he handles his life and have the overwhelming urge to slap him. |
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Credo quia absurdem est - I believe because it is absurd - seems to be a guiding principle in the Human species. It has been offered as a testament of faith, specific to the concept of God producing a mortal son, but I think it goes farther than that. Credo Absurdem seems to be the guiding factor in our belief in "The Market" (have you seen these latter-day doomsday prophets, talking about profit, and proclaiming that "The Market is angry" as if it were some pagan god of old?). It appears to be the underlying principle of political extremism (nearly everything attributed to President Obama, good or ill, seems to take on absurdist flights of fantascism). It certainly seems to be the model for the writing in most sci-fi and fantasy stories, especially television and movies, where the core premise, no matter how absurd, is neither explained nor denied. Monsters exist, they're everywhere, they all look like people in rubber masks, and nobody knows about it because they're all hiding. Credo quia absurdem est. Obama wants the banks to repay their bailout - which is going to anger The Market and cause the economy to colapse. Credo quia absurdem est. A submissive is someone who has no ego of their own, but gives all authority and control over to their partner, including legal rights. Credo quia absurdem est. There is no limit to what this mantra can not explain. Try it the next time you need to find an eye wash station because of the burning, stinging sensation in your eyes that comes from being confronted with toxic levels of stoopid. |
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Every few weeks, I am confronted by the confounding fact that there seem to be an ever growing number of women who are fans of John Norman. I keep wondering if they've read the same books that I have. |
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The problem with undergoing a mid-life crisis is the realization that, despite what I believed about myself, I actually was cool, attractive, and popular when I was in my twenties. This realization comes to me by way of facebook, where, in spite of my near-draconian attempts to purge all records of my past, people keep coming foreward with photographic and anecdotal evidence that will not be suppressed or denied. What is the point of learning from the past when the lesson uncovered is that you were a loser by choice and inclination? In the last ten years, I have been getting my shit together. I feel good about myself, I look good, and while I'm not as financially successful as I would like, I've got a lot going for me. Now that I've finally got some foreward momentum, I find that I have nowhere to go. I circle around this place like an alzheimer-addled shark, sniffing for the scent of a blood trail that vanished years ago. I'm working on autopilot. |
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Why must Discipline equate to punishment?
I punish you when the chains come off
and only the little wild beast remains.
Isn't that the problem?
All day, you labor under Discipline's yoke,
then come to me to lift the burden away.
If I wanted you to be disciplined,
why would I chain you up?
Come play with me
my savage, feral, untrained beast
in undisciplined abandon
upon experience's further shore.
Come to me, my little monster
show me how fiercely
you can rattle your chains.
I won't be frightened of the ugly face
that hides beneath your masked grin.
Let's be uncivilized for just a little while
and play at games like the innocent know
the untamed pleasure of the savage heart
bonded but unbound, fierce but not fearsome
I know you for who you really are. |
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Thank goodness the holidays are finally over. I have projects that got started in September that have been gathering dust. I can't really say that I'm very big on new year's resolutions, but boy howdy to I have a lot of catching up to do. |
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"A poet is he? It would be rash
to call one so who wrote such trash.
The Moon forsooth in all her glory
had surely touched his upper storey!!"
~Baron Ally Sloper (AKA "Saucy Jack" the Ripper) |
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So another one bites the dust. I just got word that my friend Lawrence, a man whom I've become very fond of over the last twenty years or so, passed away recently. I'm starting to get real sick of this whole death thing. There are three people (I use the term loosely) I know who might do the world a kindness by choking to death on their own vomit, but they're still here, while another good person has gone away. |
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From time to time over the years, I am approached by some snivelling door-mat of a submissive who desperately, DESPERATELY wants my attention. Most of them are trolls. Some of them are just pathetic. A few are simply painfully lonely. Normally, I try to be kind. I'm willing to converse with almost anyone, at least briefly. But the sad truth is that the stench of desperation is repellant to me, as it is to most people. My ego is not so overblown that I need some fawning door-mat to paw at me and beg for attention. I dislike dogs for much the same reason. There are dogs whom I like, who know their place and accept it, and then there are those that come up to any person they meet, head low, dragging their belly on the floor, whining and licking at feet in a desperate bid for approval. I can't imagine why anybody would tolerate such a grovelling waste of food and water, much less consider such clinging need to be a form of love. The same is true in a human submissive. The devotion they offer is like cling-wrap, utterly transparent and prone to suffocate you if you let it. Trolls you can at least weed out with a few exchanges of pleasantries. Try to keep them on a vanilla topic, and they will return to their - not yours, but their own - fantasies, and wil devoutly resist any attempt to communicate in a more normal fashion. Clingwrap submissives will talk happily about any subject, gathering enough material to spin a whole new fabric of "us", when there is no us at all save the fantasy of a relationship that never existed. It is terribly distressing. I dislike ignoring or blocking someone simply on the grounds that they want something from me that I am unwilling to offer them, but I have had to do it from time to time. I simply have no use for a doormat. |
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And more trolls. I suppose I should alter my profile, do all the things I advise others to do when they get overly pestered. The trouble of course is that this would weed out the people I might be interested in, and will not in any way discourage the ones who repulse me. I have this urge to explain what it is I am and am not looking for, but so far the ones who have been problematic are the ones who I'm sure can't be bothered to read any way. Bother. |
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"Are you a real master? If yes tell me about yourself"
This was the opening (and only) line from yet another trollop (feminine of troll) who spammed me recently. As I gave an answer more than two lines long, without any chest-beating, and have not heard back from her, I must assume that I am not what she was looking for - which, I must assume, is either a sucker, or else someone to provide a moment's amusement in providing a spank fantasy. I have also been repeat-spammed by a young lady who claims to be studying the culinary arts in England. I will say this - at least CM is becoming truly equal opportunity in it's use of the stupid. I have never before had to block so many people, even back when I was letting idiots goad me into flame wars back when Clinton was in office. Ye gods but I've been here a while. |
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"Perfect love and perfect trust" - it was once the ritual phrase used when a new witch was initiated. I suppose it still is, but so much has been whitewashed now, so many secrets exposed. There is no unknown to be afraid of, no sense of placing your life in a stranger's hands.
That is not true with S&M, however. Even if you know what you are doing, and who you are doing it with, allowing another to tie you up is an act of perfect trust. Love, in this equation, need not even be the romantic or erotic variety, but instead the all encompassing agape, the open-hearted brotherly love that all humans have the capacity to feel for one another.
With perfect love and perfect trust, I place this collar about thy neck. In perfect love and with perfect trust, you will follow where I lead. |
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Pardon me if this rambles. I'm hopped up on cough syrup right now. It has been a while since my last entry, and I feel obligated to put something in this space. So, for lack of anything better, I shall tell you about my new look.
I am not, by nature, a particularly vain or fashionable man. As a child, I never believed the adults who told me that I was quite good looking. I look at old photographs of me as a teenager - what few there are, for I never willingly submitted to portraiture - and I wish I had a time machine so that I could go back and smack me with a clue. But then again, who at my age dosen't wish for such a thing? Still, I have, for the majority of my life, scorned fashion as the snobbish retreat of those vain and petulant pretty persons who often went out of their way to make my life miserable, and who so effectively convinced me that I was not attractive, cool, athletic, or in any way desireable. Similarly, once I entered the BDSM community, I eshewed the common leather-enhanced wardrobe elements standard at the time, turning my nose up at it for being so much cosplay.
But my wife is a fan of regency dancing, and in regency costuming I discovered a certain panache. First of all, the clothing was cut with different assumptions in mind, for back then, a man was supposed to be wide of shoulder and broad of belly, with a deep barrel chest and stout, muscular legs. All these things I have, but I lack the wherewithal to exercise enough to build up layers of rippling muscle, and I will never have the malnourished frame of a prettyboy waif, no matter how little I eat. Frock coats, I discovered, were my friend.
I had filed away this information, saving my regency gear for special occasions, the odd convention or dance that we might be attending. But when I was a teenager, I used to collect hats. You can see one, my poor battered derby, in my profile photo. I have another that I am very fond of, a pearl grey top hat, that I have owned for years but almost never wear. I simply didn't have very much that really went with it. If it had been black, I might have coordinated it with more of my wardrobe, but it never quite seemed to work with anything, in particular with my usual choice of jeans and a t-shirt.
A few weeks ago, I found a grey waistcoat at the local thrift store. Five dollars being well within even m own modest means, I quickly snapped it up, and was overjoyed to find that, while it was not a perfect match, the waistcoat was close enough in shade to the hat to pass muster. Scrounging around, I have found a few more wardrobe items to go with it. Button-down shirts, which I normally abhor, have become a new staple in my closet.
I expected this to simply be a costume thing, suitable for perhaps the odd party here and there. With halloween coming up, it's only natural to think along the lines of playing dress up. What I discovered, however, is that I am getting highly favorable reactions, from girls much younger than I, from social cliques that I would never even consider being open to me. A smile and nod from a goth or punk is one thing, but being actively flirted with by a some odd twenty year old blonde coed is not a normal portion of my personal experience.
I suppose I should update my profile photo. Truth be told, the one I'm using is a few years old. It's surprising how much grey had gotten into my beard since 96, when that picture was taken. It's disingenuous, I know, to post out-of-date photos on a site like this, but it is at least recognisably me, and not some model I swiped off of a porn site.
And them's my thoughts for the day. |
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It's been a week, and so very little has happened. First, I feel I should apologise for my absence. My schedule is always a little bit chaotic, and on top of that, my ability to access the internet is also subject to the whims of fate. I like to have some amusing little bit pus aside here, if only for the entertainment and delectation of would-be subscribers (and feel free to say hello if you've decided to mark yourself as an admirer. Like a great many dominants, my ego can always use a little stroking).
This week, the subject is fantasy and roleplay. As you will surely come to learn over the course of my writing here, I am a hard core geek, as is my wife. Roleplaying, and in particular roleplaying games, have been a beloved form of foreplay for us since our relationship began some fourteen - nay, fifteen - years ago. In particular, the shared fantasy of an RPG adventure allows us to explore new and exciting possibilities, and to establish some basic ground rules for real-world fetish play by discussing - in the context of the game - how such a thing might work, and whether we both think that such an idea might be exciting. It does wonders for maintaining that delicate balance between communication and spontaneity that most couples seem to have trouble with.
Recently, after some truly fantastic sex, we decided to return to an old standard, a couple of characters we've been playing together for so long they might as well be second skins for us. We've gone through eight different universes, by my estimation, with these two characters, and we've explored an awful lot of kink together. Last time, in a dark future distopian setting, we discovered that my wife really enjoys puppy play. The rubber squeaky toy I bought as a prop for the game (meant to mess with the other players, some of whom are traditional basement troll style geeks), has since become a favorite addition to the toy box, the sound of which produces as powerful Pavlovian response in her as the sound of rattling dice or the smell of a brand new comic book (I told you we're a couple of geeks).
So now, we've decided to reinvent our second skins for a Victorian Gothic horror romance. The Gothic horror is nothing new. The original characters were created for a Vampire game back in the early 90s. The game went nowhere, but the characters went everywhere, and took us with them. But now that the game is starting anew, and I am once again gearing up to take the Dominant role of GM, I find myself wondering what new situations I can come up with, to add that certain spice of the exotic and unfamiliar. We already do corsetry, and she has voiced a desire to get dressed up. She's normally so butch, we can actually do forced feminization, which ought to be fun. The last time my wife wore a dress was three new years eves ago, if I recall correctly, or close to it. But we've already gone so far, I'm at a loss for something new, that we can actually do. We already do bondage, discipline, dominance and submission, corsetry, costumes, roleplay, plushie, furry, pony play, puppy play, vampires, victorian, goth, 1950s, crossdressing, bisexuality, and a host of other things. About the only thing I can come up with that doesnt require the participation of more people, more space, or a bigger budget, might be to add mudlarking and piggie play, perhaps with an extra dose of verbal humiliation. Luckily, halloween is right around the corner. I can probably find a pig mask for cheap. It should be intersting to see how she reacts... |
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It is a wonderful thing to have a purpose, don't you agree? The smell of salt-brine air will always invigorate a person whose calling is the sea, just as the sound of leather snapping will bring our kind out of the most langorous drowse. It saddens me that so many of us are placed in a situation where we can not freely answer the call of our inner purpose. Would the ever-grinding gears of industry truly come to a screeching halt if there were a few less of us trapped in faceless cubicles? Could the economy collapse any further if we were to seek our true calling? I have never understood why artists must starve, although paradoxically a contented artist is rarely as brilliant. How does one seek equality in this inequal world, and how is it that "Equality" in the context of professional America demands that we all be dominant alpha types in order to have any worth? There is pride to be found in service, for those who are called to serve. Not every person can be a king. Society would grind to a halt without garbage collectors. Yet somehow, we are all expected to aspire to kingship. And so it is, that we must take pride in ourselves, secretly knowing that as the beautiful people pass us by, their lives would be shit without us. |
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Once upon a time, when I answered to a different name, this site was a different place. I find it appalling how many brazen hustlers are operating here now. I'll ignore the subject of "tribute", hot button that it is. The heartless players who hold out the promise of a real relationship in order to con somebody I will also leave alone. I mean simply those working professionals who have decided to not only advertise on this service, but to actively attempt to solicit customers. Allow me to illustrate. I have here a conversation which I have chosen to preserve simply because I can not believe that it happened, or even that I was sufficiently bored to let it go on as long as it did:
Them: hi how are you
Me: Hello. And how are you this fine evening?
Them: i am good
u can spend a $5.00 to me hun
Me: I'm sure I could, but why should I dear? Your photo is very attractive, but I hardly know you.
Them: my pics is a real donation to a $5.00 to a street chilldren because he need
Me: Thanks but no thanks. I can find pictures online for free, and I can give my money to street people in my neighborhood who are every bit as much in need. Good for you, though, helping to support your community in these hard times.
Them: please for pure people not me please give a donation only $5.00
Me: You are aware that it is terribly "un-dominant" to beg like that?
Them: im slave for you please give a donation..
(by this point I had gotten bored and decided she wasn't going to say anything sufficiently amusing to keep my interest, and so I logged off. Ten minutes later, she added one final note of disappointment...)
Them: u have no mercy in a street children
She's like a latter day Sally Struthers. How kind of her to take an interest in poor innocent little street urchins. What I find appalling is that, in less than a week since I returned to this site, I have been solicited by three such persons. Trolls and others of their frumious ilk I'm used to, but this is novel to me. For now, I'm just going to shake my head in sad confusion and mutter about it being a sign of the times.
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Please forgive the broken - nay, dare I say shattered - Latin in my profile. I was in a whimsical mood. With luck, a friend will be helping me repair it soon. Allow me to put down here some clearer representation of who I am and what I may or may not be looking for. First and foremost, like many who come to these latter-day electronic watering holes, I prefer a person who is capable of forming whole sentences with complete thoughts encapsulated therein. I do not require perfect spelling and grammar, and in fact you will doubtless find any number of errors in my own messages. I do require some proof of a brain. I can forgive mangled English, but I can not forgive a lack of effort.
I suppose I should at this point inform you that I am married. It is an open marriage, and I have the full informed consent of my wife in being here. I do not keep secrets from her. If I find I need to keep secrets from you, we won't get along very well. I only lie to people I have no respect for. Over the years, I have vaccilated greatly between listing my profile here as a couple - despite the fact that my wife is not actually involved in this website and I do not like speaking for her - versus listing myself single, stating in my profile that I am married, and still finding myself being treated as if I had concealed a matter of some importance because the fluff-headed ninnyhammer with whom I had been conversing could not be bothered to read what I had written. Which, I suppose, is why I chose to mangle the Latin tongue in my initial offering. Sadly, I keep getting people who think I am Hispanic. Obviously, none of them have enough Spanish to see what's wrong with my profile.
For the most part, I am seeking new friends. I am also here to get back in touch with some old friends I had not spoken to in a while. Despite our contact in other fora, context does in fact play a role in what we talk about and how open we are with one another. There is some small outside chance of something more happening, and I am always open to the possibility, but I have been a fairly frequent member of this website for nearly five years now, and it hasn't happened yet. Don't be surprised if you are not the first.
For all that I have been in something of a marital rut for the last twelve years or so, and have no expectation of that changing, I am also fairly experienced in the fine arts of bondage, submission, and the infliction of pain. Like a great many of the fine people you may meet here, I was never really normal. Unlike the majority, I never tried to be. My virginity was lost in an S&M context, and I spent several years as a full-time submissive before coming to the conclusion that, entertaining though it may be to relinquish the reigns of power to another for the evening, it is not in me to remain so for any great length of time. Again, I have often labeled myself as a switch, and in fact consider myself to be so, but that is not really what I am looking for, and I see no reason in muddying the waters with a personal label that so many people find threatening to their conformity. This will do for the moment, I think. I shall surely write more later. |
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