One of the redundancies, of which there are many, that I find in the sub/slave profile is "naturally submissive."

This leads me to believe that there is a vast misunderstanding of what the word means. 

Just because you liked to help others and do things for them throughout your life does not make you "naturally submissive." It is a sign of a nice person, perhaps. But it certainly does not make you submissive. Let's pause for a moment and familiarize ourselves with what that word ACTUALLY means:

Submissive:

adjective:  willing to submit without resistance to authority; deferent 

adjective:  inclined or willing to submit to orders or wishes of others or showing such inclination

adjective:  abjectly submissive; characteristic of a slave or servant

Not "naturally dominant?" Take Domitrol; available at your local pharmacy.

And now there's Subupherin, for those not so "naturally submissive."

Three Things...

1) I will beat you. I will fuck you. I will kiss you. (Not necessarily in that order)

2) "Curiosity" killed the cat...and is now serving time for it.

3) 50 Shades Of Shut The Fuck Up.

...we now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Are women really complex creatures?

Yes. But they do not hold exclusive rights to that claim.

Human beings are complex.

The basics are pretty universal - we all strive for happiness. We all seek companions to avoid loneliness. We all have needs that must be met.

Complex? Yes, we all are.

Complicated...that's an entirely different story.

While we are all complex individuals, not everyone is complicated.

To take it one step further, there is a vast difference between complex, complicated and difficult.

There are many people who do not know the difference between these three. Your complexities and unique intricacies, complicated as they may be, are welcome. Leave difficult at the door.

Management.

Ah...Thanksgiving.

It always brings to mind the dynamic of the D/s relationship.

How so you ask?

The turkey, submissive as can be. It comes into the relationship in need of cleaning, with its personal baggage and it will remain an unflavored carcass until the Dom (chef, in this analogy) does to it what He must.

In order for the sub to be all that it can be, the Dom must wash it with his own two hands. He must reach inside of her and remove all of the things that inhibit her progress. He must tenderize her, season her and keep her basted until she is brimming over and flowing with the juices that have been trapped inside of her.

It is only when the Dom begins the work on His sub that she begins the journey to her ultimate goal. The turkey, submissive as can be. The Dominant chef seasons her to perfection, stuffs her to meet his discriminating palette, works with her until she exudes an alluring radiance...and then devours her whole.  

It's not called a turkey sub for nothing. ; 0 )

Gobble gobble girls.

"I am not a doormat."

There is SO much that can be derived from that statement.

Offsite, it means something very plain and basic.

On CM, however, it is a story teller all on its own.

It is a quick tale from a one sentence book with no binding whatsoever.

Yet, it can take a very long time to realize that this wonderful little sentence has a universal definition, in these here parts.

In response to this redundant, niggling phrase...

I am not a can Koozie. 

Has she earned the privilege of my hand tonight...

or

is she undeserving of such intimacy, requiring the impersonal leather from my strap? 

Does she deserve to feel the wonderfully charged sting of my hand transpierce deep into her soft, goose-bump ridden skin...

or

do her actions dictate that she be treated as a reprehensible thing, not the prize possession that she strives to be?

Tis' a luxury problem, deciding such a fate.

Tis' a luxury problem for she who gazes up from her knees awaiting His judgment. 

There are those too, who suffer from grave emotional and mental disorders.

Dealing with unruly submissives causes a Dominant to lose three things:

1) His memory

....and I forget the other 2.

And so it was that one day, upon her first waking moments, she decided that in order to fill the void in her life a world class stallion was required. This stallion must be strong, have untainted blood coursing through his veins and must not be any shorter than 15 hands. It was also her belief that the happiness she so desperately sought after hinged on one other variable - the horse was to be a white bespeckled creature, from head to toe.

She gathered her wits about her that morning, concocted a rather extensive interview process and began to look for, what she believed to be, happiness. The horses came in one by one. The first horse that she saw was a fine looking specimen. It was quite apparent from the bulging leg muscles that this horse possessed a great deal of strength. His obvious Arabian DNA was proof that the blood contained within was as pure as a newborn child. Her eyes began to widen with delight. Her heart began to beat just a little bit harder with every white speckle that she saw. "The search is over" is what she so coyly thought to herself. Then, she measured him - 14 hands. She snubbed her nose at him, turned her head to the side and motioned for the next horse to come in.

The next equinal applicant entered and took his place. Her eyes more leery than the last; giving him the once, twice and thrice over. Bloodline - check. Height - check. Strength - check. Speckles - only one or two; certainly not enough to please her discriminating palette. "Away with him!" 

On and on it went - not enough speckles, too short, mixed blood, not enough strength. Most of the stallions that she shooed away were just shy of the near unreachable mark that she set. The line of horses began to dwindle down. No matter. She was intent on finding the one horse that was perfect in all areas. 

One of the horses she turned away was just under 16 hands, a stunning creation from the heavens above. Another was capable of towing a tractor. There was one stallion whose speckles were so perfectly aligned and bright that at night one would think the constellations themselves came down to Earth. None of them "had it all." It was of no concern to her that others were finding happiness in the horses she so easily discarded. She would not waiver. She would not budge.

Soon, there were no more to interview. She went through the interminable line that showed up for her approval. There were no more horses to shun. There was, however, a farm full of horses who found happiness in spite of her disapproval. There was a farm full of stallions, once considered to be worthless by she who sought to fill her void, coupled with welcoming mares - whom had much better vision and foresight.

In her dogmatic search for happiness the only thing that she procured was a larger void than she initially started out with. The remainder of her declining days were spent in the confines of her barren stable - an inconsolable mare.    

the1

When the world slips you a Jeffrey, stroke the furry wall.

Funny story...

I have received extremely mixed reviews about my profile pic. Some have contacted me and...well...let's just say that they have liked it a lot. Some have contacted me in utter shock...mostly newbie subs. Others have skipped the small talk and went right to the judgments and hate mail. THAT is the funny portion of the tale.

I have heard words like "abuse", "twisted", "torture", "sick"...you get the picture.  It is said that a picture says a 1,000 words...but does it say EVERYTHING? Does it say that the person in the photo enjoyed what took place? Does it say that there are people in this world who derive their pleasure from pain? Does it say that the person in the photo had an orgasm that some women will never know from what took place?

No, it doesn't say those things. Moving to the funny part...

Here we are on "The Largest BDSM Community On The Planet." Let me point out the key ingredient of that recipe...BDSM community. For those new, BDSM = Bondage, Discipline, Sadism and Masochism. Many get confused about what this site is.

Some people here are just fakes...spammers and such. MANY are brand spanking new to this and are exploring because they got turned on watching The Secretary. Then there's the rest of us...who live this and have lived it for some time...the ones with experience.

To point out what should be the obvious, you are on a BDSM website. You are bound to come across some things that you find disturbing. But before you contact someone that you have never had any communication with and are spewing out your judgments about things you know NOTHING about...stop and think...what would your grandmother think if she knew you were on a site like this trawling for kinky sex and/or spankings?

Now, ain't that some shit? ; 0 )

I love lamp.