SummerMagpie

Female Submissive, 43, Camas, Washington

Male Submissive, 21

Female Submissive, 39, Jacksonville, Florida

It's hard for me to feel welcome in the BDSM community. You're all very nice people, funny and open (or not) like people anywhere. I like your stories, I love the shoes, the ropes, the buckles, and whenever I replay my friend Pen's stunned "holy shit you look good in collars" in my head I chortle in smug glee. I delight in transvestites and drag queens and porn. Love porn, especially the written kind. I fantasize about furniture, about leashes, about painting someone's naked back with melted wax in the style of the Impressionists and flaying it off with a rod. My not feeling welcome is because I have an elephant in my parlor. No, it's nothing to do with the (very pedestrian in these parts, I'd think) shame around repressed desires or having a "bad" want or even NMK. No, ladies and gentlemen, this is something other modern cultures take absolutely as granted and something I don't know how to deal with in any kind of non-platonic status. It doesn't seem common, seems absolutely counter-intuitive with kink, and if it isn't, it isn't anything I've come across being talked about. I don't have sex. Yes, you read that correctly. I don't have sex. This isn't the same as won't have sex, or can't have sex, and isn't quite the same as "don't want to" have sex. I am not afraid of sex. Oh, I'm certainly terrified of many things, chief among them letting strangers into my confidences and people who want more from me than I am going to give them and don't have the decency to leave me alone about it after being told, in very simple, unmistakable language (usually non-abusive, but I have been known to lose my temper). I'm afraid of building new intimacies, of letting people in when they might be somebody I would want right back out sooner than I can get rid of them. I'm not afraid of sex. It's not the same thing. A while ago I had a religious experience. I have those pretty regularly, and sometimes it's as simple as turning a thought over and seeing it from the other side. On this particular "while ago" I felt I had to make a vow. I made a vow of chastity. Making a vow is a brave and honorable thing to do, but since which vow I made was the action of a coward looking for the easy way out, it probably comes out even in the wash. Nevertheless I meant it (the motivation to take any kind of vow at all, not the no-sex thing) and I've kept it and I intend to go on keeping it. Why am I here? Compare and contrast the definitions of "chastity" and "celibacy." No sex now doesn't mean no sex ever, and I will be immensely disappointed with the world if I don't have any sex ever. I'll also be pissed as hell if keeping my word means being faithful to a one-night-stand or short-term-fling until the sot dies or a decade goes by, whichever comes first, so weigh that in with your bulk breakfast cereal. We all have to contend with feelings of inadequacy somehow. Some people worry about their weight, or the size of their endowments, whether they're pretty enough, their teeth nice enough, generally if their bodies are pleasing enough. People wonder if they're good enough, smart enough, skilled enough, young enough, old enough. I feel inadequate because, very often, I feel that because I don't have sex I have nothing to offer. Who would want to play with someone when any sort of orifice is automatically excluded and a handjob has to have a semantics discussion attached to it? Who would want that, want to spend time and effort and work with someone when it's just going to be "wasted"? Is kink not all about sex and I've been brainwashed by hanging out with college kids all these years? I'd like to think so, but I don't believe it. Nothing in my experience has ever taught me that this is true. I don't know how to say "no" to someone without saying "no" to everything, and it upsets me. And yet what good am I if I cannot keep a very simple vow? How can I possibly tell a submissive "I will protect you, I will care for you, and you will kneel to me" if I can't do this? How can I pledge my obedience to a Dominant if I can't keep a vow I made to myself and a vow I made to God? How am I of worth if I can't value myself? I'm not. I'm pretty, and smart, and talented, but I'm not pretty or smart or talented enough to be worth anything if I can't value myself. I made a vow of chastity instead of one for honesty, and while I strive for honesty of intention and fidelity of action I will tell you all right now, I lie like a rug whenever I'm sufficiently motivated to do so. I don't know if I do it well, because I hang out with people who know me very, very well and I pick my moments like a grandmother at a yard sale, but I certainly don't do it badly. I strive to be silent instead of lying, which recently has resulted in people wondering either 1. when I turned into a tactless bitch, I used to be so sweet, or 2. why I'm ignoring them. It's more of a step sideways than up, and I digress. It isn't about virginity. It isn't about purity, or "waiting." That's useless, and the battery-operated-boyfriend and backseat culture have rendered it into semantics. There is a terrible, awesome honesty about never having done something before. There is something hemmed and tawdry about saying "mostly a virgin," and I refuse to take part in the latter. I am, or am not, a virgin. Other people call it what they like- I don't care. I have not had sexual contact of any kind with another living being (or dead being, hilarious as it I find it that this is somewhere where I might have to clarify that). I'm inexperienced. A vow of chastity was and still is much harder than I thought it would be. It is nowhere near as romantic as a silly fourteen-year-old girl thought it would be. Not even in the same building. It isn't romantic at all, from my standpoint... wanting something, having an offer I'm willing to take (which certainly doesn't happen often!), and stepping back. People wanting, and craving, and trying to tell me that I don't know what's best for me because I haven't the experience. I haven't the experience with sex. I have lots of experience with assholes. Don't even get me started on the fucked-up logic loops men have gone through to entertain the conflicting notions of "bisexuals will fuck anything" and "ZOMG VIRGIN WANT." So this isn't about abstinence in popular American culture. It isn't about church. It isn't about sex as a value system. It's about fildelity, and sex has taken the role. It could just as easily have been language, with just as many semantics. Ten years ago I accepted myself and my purpose and the role I took up to serve God. I made a vow. I could have made any vow, anything at all, as long as it was a sacrifice and I kept it. I chose a vow of chastity. I could have made a vow to never lie, but at sixteen I was young and naive and scared of other people and I thought that chastity would be easy. Now I am twenty-six and I think that perfect literal honesty would have been hard, but it would have been simpler. Shallower. Easier to define and easier to get close to other people, instead of a shield and a crutch and a hide and an excuse. Why is this here? Why am I posting it? Because this is the internet, a clearinghouse of soapboxes and the people who stand on them, and I want my voice in the crowd.

People keep talking about sharing their innermost thoughts and feelings, but I'm beginning to think that's a cultural meme instead of anything really... liveable. Thoughts and opinions that are deep and profound are wonderful, but I've realized that when it comes to really _enjoying_ someone, and feeling at ease and happy in their company, it's the inane that's truly important. If people take out the trash regularly, or crush the boxes down to put it off a bit, or play Jenga with the trashcan until shit falls over and behind. If someone thinks practically and realistically about, say, not repeated putting the catnip on a floor-level shelf and scolding the cat for getting into it, versus simply picking up and putting away anything one doesn't wish to deal with someone or something else getting into... small children and scissors, or the aforementioned cat and catnip. In the context of interpersonal relationships, "your mom" jokes or a tendency to repeat oneself might not be earthshattering, and they might not be _important,_ but they're each a brick, and the structure those bricks build is _very_ important. Compromising on something is removing a brick, and it's a good thing, because you're not abandoning the structure over one or two pieces. However, take too many bricks out, and while it might be fine to stand a ways back and look at (an acquaintance), it's certainly not going to be anything you'd want to put to daily use (a good friend or lover). I mean, REALLY. Deep down, the innermost thoughts of EVERYONE is actually "...did I leave the gas on?"

Projects are coming due pretty constantly, now that the school term is well into itself. I'm not shunning anyone, I'm just so busy that the idea of falling into bed at eight pm and passing out until I have to get up and go to work/class is incredibly appealing, and so busy that I do not ACTUALLY hit bed around or after midnight.

I was cleaning a bit and I found two of my sundresses and UGH, where's my summer? I am SO ready to be wandering around barefoot in 90-degree heat in little scraps of cotton or sari silk. T_T

Another section of a message I sent to someone else, because I found what came up to be fascinating: When talking to someone, regardless of your respective positions, I find that writing as best you are able is a sign of courtesy and respect. It doesn't take that much longer to type "you are" instead of "u r," but there's a world of difference between them. ::Laughs:: No, the problem isn't that I don't want to be distracted, it's that I DO. I love being distracted by new and interesting things, it's just not productive, and there are things I want to accomplish more than I want to be distracted. I'm far too curious for the amount of time I have to spend, sometimes. Still, it means life is never boring. I am fortunate enough that the amount of discretion I need to use in my vanilla life is actually far less than the amount that I want to use. Perhaps it's a side effect of reading a great deal and studying art. In art, content is important, and ideally art is never censored for content. First Amendment and all that. It gets especially mind-stretching when one looks at the fringes of modern art and the study of what contextual history that art is coming from. When art is censored, it is censored on the grounds of sophistication and execution and maturity and how successfully that content is presented. Work made of pubic hair and menstrual blood, or elephant dung, or a taxidermied shark in an aquarium (all crafted with control and precision) has the same base level intrinsic value as a Thomas Kinkade painting, and then one takes into account the elements of sophistication, personal opinion of the work, and personal opinion (going into the validity of personal opinions and where they come from is the fuel of many a graduate thesis ::laughs::) of the work's message... When one has been trained to think like that in one's vanilla life (both academically and by one's parents), it becomes a bit difficult to feel confined by discretion. There's a lot of things I haven't done, or said, but I've never felt it was because I couldn't or shouldn't. It was simply because I hadn't yet taken the time to create the opportunity. There's a distinct difference between the feel of a craving you think you can never have, and a craving you know you can obtain if you simply take the proper steps, and the first decision to make is when to begin (the second, for people who enjoy self-examination, is why you chose whatever the first answer was over another!). Is that the difference between a sub and a switch, do you think, or simply the difference between two different people? I don't know. It's strange... knowing I could go to class naked and shackled and painted in strips of hot wax _and be defended by my instructors for my right to do so_ is... something. Now, there would then be a discussion of the _appropriateness_ of doing so, which would include a discussion of intent. Succinctly, the action would be discussed like a piece of artwork. ::grins:: And I'm not sure they're wrong in that assumption. My opinion of BDSM and Ds as it applies to me is that it is a process the way art is a process, because BDSM and Ds is an art. Art is, among many other thousand theses and arguments, a compulsion. It is something some people feel driven to do, to make, to talk about, to consume, to enjoy... which makes it more like kink, in my opinion. Hm... How interesting. ^^ I hadn't yet consciously throught about it that way, which is, actually, why I'm here. To talk and to think and to listen and to further define all the other little distractions and connections, in the process further defining myself to myself. It's one thing to have an opinion, but if you never notice you have it, is it worth anything? My mother taught her children (among other things, such as polite manners and curiosity and kindness and self-sufficiency) to be consciously aware of our own motivations; to think about why we are doing something or why we want something. If we think a certain way about a certain thing, where does that come from? "Just because" is an acceptable answer, but only if that really IS the reason. She taught us to think, not just about ourselves, but about anything. This has meant that sometimes we think about or pursue things she does not approve of, but we ARE thinking, and she trusts us to continue to do so. It was fascinating to a young child, confusing to an older child, aggravating beyond belief as a teenager, and something I find fascinating and wonderful and baffling and occasionally annoying as an adult. ::laughs:: I look forward to torturing the next generation with that kind of training.

You know, I like classical music, but I'd blow someone for really fantastic full pipe organ. The MUSICAL INSTRUMENT pipe organ XD "Tocatta and Fugue in D Minor" is glorious. And full symphony orchestras with electric guitars are not exactly CLASSICAL, but they certainly float my boat. Trans Siberian Orchestra always gets the volume cranked up... unless I have to turn it DOWN to save my speakers!

Vanilla and Kink and Extremely Blue Margaritas. I love fingering myself after orgasm. I love feeling everything so soft and slick and wet and squishy, all rounded and puffy with blood. Much hotter and softer than it is any other time. I like feeling the little ticks and pulses (like the tinks a car makes while the engine cools) against my fingertips even more than I like feeling them inside... and that's pretty darn nice too. If I had a woman as a lover, my favorite vanilla fantasy (or after-scene fantasy ;) ) would be to lie cuddled up with her with my head pillowed on her breasts and her belly, lazily licking whatever's handy to reach without moving, and fondling her genitals while we come down, how soft and slick they are, licking my fingers now and then. I don't taste like much of anything... I wonder how she would taste? Another favorite of mine is to have long, slow sex after having brought myself off (or my lover's brought me off) two or three times... maybe I'm masturbating while s/he watches. Porn's nice, but books have always been my first love, and the best whack-offs are usually late at night when the house is quiet and the world is sleeping, while reading something steamy. ^_^ Looooong, sloooow sex. Sometimes, in the fantasy, I get off again after. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes it doesn't matter. Either way, the point is I want to feel what sex is like when it starts when I'm already wet and dripping and mischievously lazy. Usually I'm never that wet pre-orgasm no matter how turned on I am; "horny" is damp and a little sticky, so it's either lube or masturbating hard and fast... and I've learned it's fairly easy to bring myself off quick under the right conditions, sometimes three or four times. Or maybe not... it's never occurred to me to time myself. That's what I think about, when I wonder about vanilla... what it'd feel like to start with the pump already primed, what it would be like to lick and bite and worry someone with my teeth, to hear someone else's breathing instead of just my own... and sometimes what hilarious faces would be made, and if I'd be paying enough attention at the time to notice. XD That's all, really... I don't have very many dreams for vanilla sex... just that it's the kind of sex that's silly and laughing and fun, or lazy and smiling and smug, and always done in the best feelings of deep affection, friendly or otherwise. Kink sex... ::laughs:: I have a rather longer list. >:D Heat and ties and soft shackles and pretty knots and thin little canes tend to feature. Paddles not so much, in the mind's eye, probably because I don't find them as pretty to look at. I like sinuous forms in art... but damn if the sting isn't sweet, trying the toystore demos out on arm or thigh. Perhaps a blindfold then, to make it sweeter and easier to see the colored light behind my eyelids. Or maybe to pay attention instead to the blush on my lover's ass, after the paddle's whack.... yes. ^^ I'm so amused that I say these things. I really even think I could say them aloud now, laughing at the people listening. Happy tease. ^^ Alcohol doesn't make me chatty and honest. Alcohol makes me quiet and watchful. Laughing and quiet and watchful, if I'm in good company (and I never drink in any other kind) and hilariously prone to talking with the furniture, but if it's talk you want and a loss of inhibitions, afterglow is more effective than booze in every case. ...and good music and friendly laughter works better than alcohol to get you table dancing, too. Or oral sex under the table. Or anything, really. I don't dance drunk, I just eat. XD And drink. I've been documented drinking the full contents of a Pur pitcher twice and eating half a box of cornflakes AND another helping of leftovers from dinner after the first round of drinking on girls' night in. That must have been... shit, four or five shots worth of alcohol? We could have cleaned windows with the margaritas. Overdose on laughter and getting carried away by other people's joy ALSO works so much better than alcohol for getting rid of inhibitions. XD But if my telling you that the light socket is happy to see us and the table is polite is what you're going for, by all means break out the margaritas. XD Or the shots. I am told I make fantastically LETHAL margaritas (lethal because they don't taste as alcoholic as they are) after a double shot of vodka, because I fail at measuring and unintentionally double everything but the ice. XD I mean, six shots of blue curacao and twelve of Tarantula liquer in ONE pitcher of margaritas. And then I looked at the table and giggled, while MC looked at her glass and giggled, and K and MG rolled their eyes at the lightweights and walked to the 7-11 for more 7up. This was the night that I thought microwaving a cup of soup for ten minutes was a good idea. X3;;;;

You know, I say I'll try "almost anything" once, and that is largely true. To be completely specific, it's also conditional- for food, it means things that won't make me sick and are already dead (I will not torture something I intend to eat). For kink and play, the condition is trust. If I trusted my partner enough, I really would do almost anything at least once. The won't-do in this "almost" is harming children and animals/insects... I can't think of anything else, if there was enough trust. (and no, a swift move with a large shoe is not "harming" an insect, it's killing it. "Harming" it would be pulling the legs off one segment at a time until one was left, and watching it crawl in a circle. Kill what you've gotta kill, but it doesn't sit with me to torture anything incapable of consent.)

My ideal housemate (or lifemate, really) is somebody I can talk to, but can also be quiet with, and that we both learn reasonably quickly when to give me alone-time and when I should give him/her alone-time. I can deal with needs for attention- a dear friend and former long-term roommate had a fairly constant need for attention, but it wasn't always for MY attention; whenever I wanted to be by myself she'd leave me alone and happily do other things, and if she wanted company and I wanted quiet, we'd happily sit together quietly. When we first moved in together she needed a lot of reassurance and was constantly asking for attention, but over a couple months we learned each other and settled out great. We had different ideas about decorating, housecleaning, cooking... but we also had no problems communicating about what worked and what didn't; each of us listened; each of us addressed the other's concerns promptly; and we tended to ask each other before changing anything, especially at first. Rarely was anything a problem. Even when we annoyed the shit out of each other, we got on fine. She was my best roommate to date, and if every relationship could have that kind of learning curve and mutual awareness and respect I'd be ecstatic.

I'm not looking for the love of my life, but I am looking for a close friend. I've never... I used to think that in order to do something, I had to already know how to do it. I don't think that any more, but it does still leave me treading water, or flying a holding pattern sometimes, looking for a way to start. I'm either completely impulsive/spontaneous, or spend far too much time thinking. It seems that when it comes to beginning new things, there's no middle road... and most often it falls to option #2. I want to try things. I want to play. I have trust issues up to my pretty blue eyes, and would never, could never, just meet somebody to play with. Sometimes I have a hard time admitting I don't know what I'm doing, but I have enough pride to be insulted when someone _assumes_ I don't know what I'm doing, and tries to take control away from me. The last person who tried that ended up as the proverbial smear on the concrete, and he really didn't deserve that. I liked him, and he liked me. He _respected_ me too, which was the damndest thing about it- he just didn't know how to deal with me. Everybody else he'd ever known who had control issues was loud and bossy, and I'm quiet and patient and permissive... and evidently took him like a landmine: completely by surprise. I don't think either one of us knew how to deal with it. I did then, did for two years after, but ignoring his calls now doesn't say "dealing with it" to me, crazily enough. I'm tired and I'm cranky and I'm too _busy,_ and maybe that's it. I like spending time with him and going fishing with him, but I don't want to do it RIGHT NOW, and maybe that's all it is. It's certainly enough. ::chuckles:: Part of his problem always has been that he can't understand girls to save his soul, and sometimes I just get tired of having to explain everything, no matter how patiently he asks questions or how patiently I answer them. He is my friend, and we would have fun, but that's not what I want from him, and I guess I'm afraid that if we did "have fun" in the most euphemistically dirty sense possible, he'd read too much into it. I don't know if it's silly or not, because he'd let me go- but I'd still feel like I led him on. I don't know if it'd hurt his feelings or not, but having attempted to explain why women break hearts to him three separate times, I suppose it doesn't matter. I don't want to have to explain a fourth time. That, and spending longer than three consecutive days with him makes me want to murder him with a truck. Or his boat. Or a SHOE. I feel like an eighteen-year-old housecat being worried at by a playful, well-meaning heeler puppy; in short, ready to bite the bastard's ears off and disgruntled on top of it because I'm pretty sure I can't. XD I should go see him sometime anyway... we have fun together. Well, for three days at least. X3 I'm amused, now- affectionately. When did this become an essay about F? I started writing thinking wisfully that it would be nice to spend an afternoon with some rope and hot wax before having to go work on my projects, not really caring who was on what side of what, and quite predictably got sidetracked. I am the Queen of Tangents, I swear. XD So, no, I don't fantasize about finding the love of my life, but I do from time to time fantasize about finding a really close friend and spending the evening with my head on their knee and my leash around their wrist; fantasize about finding a really close friend I can tie up and paint Impressionist works in hot wax on, and then possibly flay them off. The wax, I mean. Perhaps with a crop. Since the idea gets even better if this hypothetical friend has already given their heart to someone else... well, I'm not stupid and I make a point of not lying to myself. I'm pretty sure I'm afraid of falling in love. Oh, not broadly- I'm not afraid of affection. I love my family, I love my friends. I love some of my friends desperately; the difference in devotion is subtle. I'd even live with some of them, but I certainly wouldn't marry any of them. XD There's as many ways to love someone as there are stars in the sky... and I'm not afraid of most of them. I'm not even all that afraid of being hurt, so I guess... I'm just afraid of one, specific, way of loving someone. Of giving myself and not having anything left and not being appreciated as the treasure I am. Fuck yeah, I'm the motherfucking princess, and even covered in plaster or clay or sweat or dirt from the garden, I'm still a fine lady. I'm not entitled to much. I'm not entitled to being given anything, to being kept, to being provided for just because I exist. I'm not entitled to being HANDED my degree (though damn straight I'm almost finished EARNING it). I'm not entitled to anything I haven't worked for- EXCEPT. Except. Except respect. I am entitled to respect, without ever having to earn it. I am not automatically entitled to TRUST, but I am entitled to respect, and I am not obligated, EVER, to stay anywhere where I do not get that. Which I guess was the primary problem with F, now that I remember. X3 Dear friend that he is, I frequently got the impression that he had forgotten to whom he was speaking, and you know what? He can talk to me like one of the guys if he really, really wants to, but I am not one of the guys. I am a lady, and if I am consistently spoken to like "one of the guys," that erases your chance of getting me into any situation where it matters that I'm a woman. Like, you know, SEX. Ever. 9_9 Honestly. And you know what? If this means I'm not HUMBLE enough for someone, they know where else they can go.

I've noticed the "yeah, and a pony too!" aspect to some profiles... people want the sun, the moon, and the stars, and while there's nothing WRONG with wanting things, they feel entitled to it, and entitled to it for free. It just strikes me as being very immature... maybe dangerously unwilling to listen to negotiation and concerns, maybe not. I have no actual way of knowing, since I've never talked to any of them. I laugh, but I'm not sure if I'm laughing because it's funny, laughing because I can't believe it, or (worse) laughing because I CAN believe it. ::laughs:: At least some of the whacked-out weird stuff on aff.net never fails to make me feel not-jaded. "Someone#1, who died when Someone#2 was an infant, is pregnant with Someone#2's baby! How will Someone#3, his long-lost son, react?" Honestly, the crack never fails to amuse. XD Saa... I should get back to the department right now, I have work to do for class(es) tomorrow... but I've gotten far too accustomed to spending all afternoon at Camp Ahdowanna, if you know what I'm saying. Oh well... better just put on my Big Girl Panties and deal.

I'm a bit baffled that people seem to think switches want those they see to switch also. I mean, I understand where the misunderstanding comes from, it's just not something that would ever occur to me. Why would I expect a submissive to switch? They're not a switch. Heck, I don't even expect switches to switch quickly, or on demand... probably because I switch so slowly, when the other person is taken out of the equation, and I relate all things first through myself. People who are submissive and with whom I have some kind of connection/attraction naturally bring out the Domme in me. People who make me angry or impatient (or who set off a Control Issue landmine) bring out the Domme in me. Hell, certain kinds of hoi poloi Dom/me behaviors bring out the Domme in me, though I'm hard pressed right now to remember what they are. Topping is about taking control, sometimes taking someone down a few pegs, but always in the name of good feelings and good intentions. People who are dominant AND whom I am attracted to, trust, and respect bring out the sub in me in a HUGE way. Feeling intimidated brings out the submissive in me... and sometimes the submissive behavior continues into fleeing from the situation, or hiding, and sometimes it snaps over into Domme because something about the situation made me angry or outraged. Subbing is about wanting someone else to take control, and other subs NEVER make me want to sub for them- why would I want someone who doesn't _want_ control to have mine? It's not a secure feeling. Domme/sub is situationally dependent- I react to the people around me, and to the situation in my life. I step forward to fill a role that I am right to fill, and when I am not right to fill it, I'm not Domme or sub- I'm the audience. Also, I guess I've always thought that when I Dommed, I had to be harder and less lenient than tops who weren't switches, just because I AM a switch. Wouldn't somebody who can't ball up to full-time topping hit softer? You'd think that, maybe, and that's why as a top I don't hit softer, don't give ground. To get respect, I had to be Dommier than Dom, because I also sub, and can't afford undermining my authority. That's what runs through my head, now and then. Quiet and retiring is not the same as submissive. I've met people in life (not in the BDSM community yet, but I'm quite aware this is a "yet" XD) who think that because I'm not pushy that I'm a pushover. Sometimes I _am_ a pushover, and that's when my foundation's been washed out from under me... but usually, I'm not a pushover- the person just hasn't yet found a line yet. It's easy to do; I don't have many that come up in day to day interaction, but they sure know when they've crossed one. Sometimes it's funny to look back on it, how startled people sometimes are when I lay down the law. It's like they just got savaged by a bunny slipper. Dominant and submissive behavior is not about who's louder, it's about who has the decisions. Someone can be very laid-back and permissive, but still be Dominant, by having clear expectations and limits set out, and absolutely enforcing them. It's a gentler, more parent-like way of topping, instead of a more Masterful or drill-sergeant approach. The most fantastic Dom/mes to watch, in my opinion, are the ones who never have to raise their voice, and next to never take the velvet glove off the steel fist- because they don't need to. And now- chat excerpts. :3 Penandknife: Dude. Doms are kind of funny. .-. me: yes, they are. you either love them for their idiosyncracies, or you take up with a switch and deal with a different set of quirks. Penandknife: LOL me: Switches are more like Bill Cosby's father. "Fathers will come get you, but fathers ask one thing. 'who put you on the goddamn thing in the first place? You'll get off by yourself, and when you get home, report to me, 'cause I'm'a give you a beating." in regards to calling for his mom to save him while on a rollercoaster for the first time. Penandknife: LOL me: see, it's the "oh no, you did... exactly what I told you to. /)_-;;" thing. or "You said you could handle it." "AND YOU BELIEVED ME! ;_;" Ne, Pen, go ask your forum-friends the following question: "What's the difference between switches and people who switch?" it's like a rorsach ink blot test, the answers you get. Penandknife: XDDDDD I'll drop that one in a bit. me: My answer is "their behavior out of scene or in civvies. Doms and subs who switch now and then act like doms, or act like subs. Switches are the extra-special fucktards in the cracker-jack box that are so coated in caramel you can't tell if it's popcorn or an almond."

I wound up writing such a HUGE reply to NotYourAvgGuy that I thought I'd just repost it here. XD I tend to talk a lot, ESPECIALLY in text, so if this is tl;dr, that's fine. :) What kind of engineering are you studying? Why did you pick that to study? How did you get into BDSM? Do you like working with cattle? What's your favorite part of being outside? I spend a lot of my free time on the internet, reading or chatting with friends. Most of the other things I do are when I don't feel like sitting at the computer: knitting, going for walks, going out (movies, run errands, window shop, go to lunch, etc). Usually, I'm reading a book or reading on the computer. I like long road trips too. My father was in the Navy reserve until retirement, and he took his family with him to reserve duty. I grew up in the car one weekend a month, two weeks a year, so the sound of the freeway is comforting and familiar, and I really just _like_ it. Likewise, I grew up at the beach one weekend a month, really deserted, military-only beaches, and love the ocean too. I like looking at wildlife, wherever I am. Here at school, it's little birds and pheasants and predator birds (hawks, mostly, the occasional owl or eagle) and scavenger birds (crows and magpies), some deer and snakes, and a lot of cows, which aren't wild, but are certainly prevalent. XD At my parents', it's birds, like before, plus more snakes, rabbits, coyotes, elk, squirrels, and the occasional suicidal fish. I found out the hard way that if you're in a canoe around dawn, the fish jump at the boat. I've always thought America was made up of several smaller countries (the food and traffic customs certainly upholds this XD). Alaska's another country, Hawaii's another country, FLORIDA is certainly another country. Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Northern California, and Montana are about one country. Southern California is a country all by itself- I lived there as a little girl, and go back now and then. The southwest is a country, the South is a country, the Midwest is definitely quite alien to me, and I hear that Taco Bell is the pinnacle of Mexican food on the east coast. Texas is one of those places I consider another country, though I haven't decided if it's the same country as Arizona, New Mexico, and/or Oklahoma. My little brother was in Texas a while back, for Air Force basic... but he got sent home with a medical discharge. He got pneumonia, then the intern or junior medic misdiagnosed him and stuck him in the med wing until it was either medical discharge or Failure to Complete. FtC is not a good thing... and there's WAY too much brass in my family for that to happen; the senior family knows all about how to browbeat the military system. Now he's looking into ROTC... I don't think he's quite wrapped his brain around "You go to ROTC to go to college, you go to college to go to college, not to go to ROTC." Anyway, he liked Texas, and he agrees with me that it's another country. My maternal grandfather is an engineer, and my mom took some courses before changing her major- she and her dad designed our house, mailing the plans back and forth. It was funny- they'd "argue" by changing the plans- he'd put something in, she'd take it out, he'd put it back, and vice-versa. There are a couple things (like the size of the window seats) that are a result of her putting something in, and his changing the MEASUREMENTS but not the drawing... and her not noticing. She went to France with her parents when I was in middle school, and she took a lot of pictures of doorways and arches. I'm still amused by it. I get a lot of entertainment mileage in general out of my family; I presume they do out of me, too. Boompa (mom's dad) built power towers over the southwest and California, and he built piers in California, and a bridge or two. I think he consulted on the foundations for some buildings. I like listening to him talk. I like going for walks outside- there are a lot of cattle around here, deer too, if your timing is right, and I like going for walks along the irrigation roads through the pastures, listening to the wind and the birds. Cows are HUGE and I have healthy respect for that, but they don't scare me, which I suspect is why I've never had any problems walking through pastures with animals that could turn me into a stain on the ground if they really felt like it. I want to try keeping chickens someday, when I have a living situation that'll allow it. I don't mind living with cattle, and I think I'd handle it if life ever dropped it in my lap, but I don't want to keep them. The idea of keeping chickens in an apartment is hilarious, but not something I want to actually DO. Maybe goats. They make me smile: goats, mules, horses, and chickens. Llamas amuse me, too, but I don't know if I want to deal with the hair. I don't even know if I want to ever keep a horse- so far, grooming and petting friends' horses is enough. I hardly ever get to ride, but that's okay, I don't really have the time. I kind of like picking their feet- I think their ankles are interesting. I like thoroughbreds and quarterhorses best- the more laid back and couch-potato, the better. Arabians are pretty, but really stupid, and sometimes that's funny. I picked my major because I grew up with the message that it didn't matter what I majored in, as long as a I graduated. My dad got his Bachelor's in oceanography, and he works as a safety engineer 400 miles from the ocean. Before that he worked for a company that made solar cells. (His Master's is in his field, but still- the message stuck.) So, if WHAT I studied wasn't as important as having studied something, I may as well study something that was interesting to me... so I took a bunch of classes until I found things I wanted to take more of. For a while, I had a double major (Econ) instead of the economics minor, but the scheduling between the two departments was such a pain for so many years that I changed it after finishing the minor. My mother's an artist, and some of her friends are artists, but I don't know if that's why I studied art. It's interesting to me, and it's great to share that with my mom. It's ALSO great that because I know all these older, established artists, I get to ask them for help and advice and use equipment I could never afford at my time of life. It's pretty cool. How did you like being a volunteer firefighter? I'm a natural brunette, but right now I'm a super-dark redhead. I was a redhead as a little girl. It's funny, my brother's hair is even darker than mine now, and he was a towhead as a toddler. I got into BDSM through reading porn, actually. I read something, and didn't know what "fisting" was, so I looked it up. ::laughs:: I'm sure you can imagine what googling "fisting" came up with, but I picked the only website whose summary didn't mention pictures- it was the fetish exchange encyclopedia, and I read damn near everything on the site. I was a teenager, I think, maybe still in high school. I don't remember. Then I just kept reading, branching through different flavors of porn... all text-only, but really. It's porn, there's just few or no pictures. ;)

I love kids. Kids seem to love me. I dunno why, but right now I work two hours a week doing daycare, and the kneecap gnawers keep telling me they like me better than T, V, or M, the other ladies who work the other hours. XD This is probably because I let them do whatever they want, unless it is 1. dangerous, 2. infringes on someone else's rights to space (hitting, grabbing, unwanted snuggling, etc), 3. something I don't want to deal with (like... oh, fingerpaint, or sometimes I don't feel like putting up with fourteen inflated beach balls bouncing around -but sometimes I find it fun :)- or the song and dance over picking a movie), or 4. disrespectful to me. Which, in practice, turns out to not be a whole hell of a lot. The kids think they're getting away with murder, when really, I don't CARE about most of it and am willing to handle things. They did, though, learn REAL fast not to get into extended arguments over toys, because MY solution is if sharing's not an option, to put it away and NOBODY plays with it. They have yet to figure out how to work it to get back at another child without depriving themselves. XD I remember my mother doing that... I never figured it out either, so if they manage to find an angle, I'll be really interested. X3 Oh, and I'm a huge believer in Going Home Immediately as an answer to misbehaving in public. My mother did that, and by the time we were four or five, my brother and I would shape up right away if Mom asked "do you want to go home?" She'd abandon full grocery carts, too. It was practical... when kids are _really_ little, before they learn to be aggravating little shits just for grins and giggles, tantrums are typically because they either want or need to be removed from the situation and take a nap, or stop being overstimulated. Hell, I'm an adult and I _still_ love time-out and naptime when I'm overstimulated or overwhelmed or overstressed or just over_____. ...oh, and when we were sent to our rooms, Mom didn't care if we played quietly. XD I've met people who weren't allowed to play, but really, she didn't care what we did, as long as nothing loud or irreparable went down. It was a great way to grow up, and is probably why my brother and I are as independent and secure as we are. My mother is an amazing woman, and if it's true that we become our parents, I'd be honored to turn into her. ...my grandmother, not so much. XD So! I want four kids, at least two of them adopted, all numbers negotiable. I want to be able to feed and clothe and shelter and provide medical care for my kids and give them a happy life more than I want a specific number. (Also I want harmony with my mate more than I want a specific number. X3) I have a thing about cranking out eleven kids: I think it's wrong. I think it's fine and wonderful if you want to HAVE eleven children, but I think it's not right to give birth to that many kids when there are so many who are homeless, hungry, uneducated, abused, and orphaned. My mother teaches art at a low income high school, and teenagers, especially the teenagers, are SO HAPPY when they finally have a for-real home. It doesn't matter that they're seventeen and able to be legal adults- they still desperately want a family. Adopt kids. I don't know if it's easy... I suspect it may not be easy enough, that good people don't get to be parents and assholes do, but there's a baby/bathwater situation here. BIRTH CONTROL IS YOUR FRIEND. I think we have enough people on this planet, and should back off a little on the reproduction. Crank out two, great! Three is also fine. Four is okay. Twelve is unacceptable. The vagina is not a clown car, and half your children aren't going to die before they're sixteen. Not any more. Have twelve children if that's what you want, but go adopt six of them. So! Have to have pets, want to have children, kind of want four. If I'm never at a place in my life where I can support children, that's okay, but I think that when I'm ready I can make it happen. I don't have to be married or have a permanent mate to have children, but I have a hard limit that I have to be married or have a permanent mate to BE PREGNANT. :P Pregnancy, that glorious time of internal parasite and impending larval human, is time to be shamelessly pampered and put up with. Single people have no one to send for three-am takeout runs. I REFUSE to be single and pregnant for any reason, though I have no problems being single and adopting. ...the funny thing is that my father would probably like it if I was single and adopted, because then I'd still be his princess forever, and he'd have grandchildren as icing and sprinkles. XD

I will always live with some form of pet. This is a Hard Limit, though the species of animal is negotiable. I prefer cats, fish, and large dogs. I like birds, but know nothing about reading them, so birds tend not to like me. I will willingly and happily handle anything, including insects and reptiles (I like tarantulas, cockroaches, snakes, iguanas, and bearded dragons), that won't poison me or bite hard enough to bleed. I kept pet rats for thirteen years; my last one is elderly, but still with us, and after her I'm taking a break for a decade or so. Rats are smart and sweet, and I think they're a great pet for kids, but they just don't live long enough. Being kind to kept domestic animals is a Very Hard Limit. You don't have to LIKE them, you don't have to handle them, you don't have to interact with them, but you do need to treat them decently. I insist on dogs having good table manners and good greeting manners. Dogs who jump on people, nip, mark indoors, bark inappropriately, and show too much interest while I'm eating (begging/stealing food) are COMPLETELY unacceptable in my dog. When it comes to dogs, cats, horses, and domestic animals in general, the rule is I'm Bigger. Humans are ahead in the pecking order, period. This is very important to me. I'm not saying my dogs don't get into the trash can or sneak outside or bark at squirrels and birds or steal food left unsupervised- they do, they're dogs. My big dog NEVER obeys a command to "go lie down" and stop begging for attention. They're not perfectly trained, BUT they do not bite, do not bark at every little thing, do not jump people, do not harass the cat, are good with small children, and do not beg. Those are what's most important to me. I am VERY INTERESTED in NOT keeping any more pets than I'm willing to clean up after. More than three and a fish tank is too much work. Heck, three and a fish tank is probably too much work, but life happens.

Male Submissive, 29, barcelona

Male Submissive, 34, valley falls, New York

Male Submissive, 52, Maastricht

Female Submissive, 36, New-Brunswick

Male Submissive, 34, Spain

Male Submissive, 42, Barcelona

Male Submissive, 32, Valladolid

Male Dominant, 26, Prescott Valley, Arizona

Male Dominant, 39, New York

Male Switch, 34, Barcelona

Female Submissive, 27, superbowl town, Florida

Male Submissive, 31, San Juan