Please, PLEASE be able to carry on an articulate conversation if you are going to message me. I am not new to this life style, the community, or it's protocols. I have been extensively active in the local scene for several years, and run the second largest alternative life style group in the central Virginia area. Do not take me for one of the simpering, naive, and slow witted girls you see on here so often. I keep the "aaaah" in ? ? I?m BBW, big, fluffy, well rounded, over weight, fat, curvy... what ever you wish to call it, I?m it. I?m slowly but steadily losing weight and becoming more active, but don?t EVER expect me to be thin. I like being thick and intend to stay that way. ? I will do all manner of depraved, dirty, slutty, and shameful things to be your "good girl". ?
All too rare are the Masters for whom ?training? means something more than giving orders and correcting compliance. A sadly small percentage of the Masters i know savors the often delicately balanced orchestrations by which a slave does truly develop a deeper level of surrender under Their direction. These Masters delight in devising subtle situations and conversations that challenge and guide us. They watch us closely to see how we wrestle with our inner struggles with surrender and then determine the best way to coax, tease, kiss, lure, argue, reason, support, reinforce, hurt, or love us onward past our sticking points and into doing or accepting exactly what They want from us? AND, making us love them for it! This is the REAL craft of ?slave-training,? and lucky is the slave who comes to the attention of these rare Masters. Bonding with these Masters is vastly accelerated for us, and we often feel close to helpless before Them...
- Guy Baldwin, M.S., SlaveCraft ? My hard limits are: Scat, ingesting any bodily fluids (except semen), TICKLING, being licked (including having your tongue in my mouth. This is EXTREMELY triggering for me to past trauma and can induce panic attacks. No really. Don't do it.), fire play (with exception to cell popping), humiliation (not to be confused with degradation), scarring, and extended periods of orgasm denial. ? If you live more than 30 miles away from Richmond, Virginia, it isn?t going to happen. I will not subject myself to another long distance relationship. I am done begging for phone calls and once or twice a year visits that lead absolutely no where. ? I am not a masochist. The most I can take is a barehanded spanking, a couple slaps to the face, and some biting. I?m currently branching out into impact play and exploring what I can take, but I can?t promise I?ll be the pain slut of your dreams.
So you're a good little submissive in search of a Master. Handing control of yourself over to someone else feels like a vacation - no more decisions, no more worries, just a firm hand on the back of your head and a cock in your throat. You crave that feeling of being owned. You want to live there.
Problem is, you actually have an innate worth. But if you don't price yourself properly, you become a malaria net.
See, in Africa, where malaria is a common and deadly disease, a charity was handing out free malaria nets. Seems like an awesome idea, right? Those nets would stop the mosquitoes from getting in at night and infecting your children, possibly even saving your life. Every local person should have one.
But they'd given out several thousand nets, and none of the locals was using them.
They investigated this: the locals were using the nets to fish, as hammocks, even throwing them away. Which seemed bizarre. These were life-saving nets. They were given, free of charge. And yet they were discarded.
Were these folks stupid?
Someone eventually came up with a clever solution: charge for the nets. They put a price on the nets that was designed to be just painful enough that you had to stretch a little - say, half a week's salary. And two things happened:
The first was that it turned out that when the charity workers had to sell the nets, the locals asked, "Well, why the hell is this worth so much money?" And it turns out that the charity workers, in their rush to do good, hadn't really, you know, explained what the nets were for. So caught up in their need to do good, they shoved nets into people's hands and said, "Here, you need these!" and often took it as granted that of course everyone knew about the mosquitoes carrying the deadly malaria.
This price forced the charity workers to actually explain what they were trying to do, which in turn actually made them sell the locals on the need and necessity for nets. And the locals went, "Oh, that's what those do."
The second thing was that now that the locals had had to scrimp and save to get the nets, you'd better believe they damn well valued them. Once the nets had been given a price, and a mildly onerous one, then people didn't throw them away. They used them, repaired them when they broke, took care of them.
There's a lesson here for you submissives.
Thing is, even as a sub, you have a value. If you set that price to zero so any so-called Master can have you for the taking, well... that means you're gonna get taken for granted. And maybe that's hot in the bedroom, but not so hot when you're sad because your cat got run over and your Master shrugs and goes out for a beer. Or when you need your Master's attention because you feel insecure and his reaction is shut up, toy, I have a date with New Hottie, get in the corner.
You can get the good Master, who realizes you have a value and maintains you. Or you can just sort of fling yourself at anyone and get a string of bad Masters, who squeeze you like a tube of toothpaste and toss you out when you're done.
That's tough. It means you have to discriminate. When people ask you to be theirs, you have to ask hard questions. You have to ask, "Does this guy seem together? Does he seem like someone who'd actually take care of me?"
This is a guy who, potentially, will make a lot of decisions in your life. Is he going to make decisions in your best interests? Is he capable of understanding what a good decision even is?
Which means, my trembling and eager slave, you're gonna have to audition. And some of those Masters will be pretty spiteful when you turn them down, flinging accusations that you're not a real slave, telling you that you were ugly (well, then why did they want you?), being regularly cruel.
Ownership comes with responsibility. You don't own a Coke; you drain the bottle and walk away. But if you own a house, well, you repair the broken windows, you fix the broken water heater, you repair what's within your power to make right.
The guys rejecting you so violently? They don't want to own you. They want to drain the best bits and chuck you away. So you need to reject them. Without those barriers, well, you're the malaria net languishing in the river.
And some day, if you're lucky, you'll find the right set of feet to kneel at - a man who's wise and strong and possessed of that brilliant mixture of kindness and cruelty. And when that day comes, that master is going to have a better time with you. What fun is it, breaking someone who comes pre-broken? A good master enjoys the challenge of seeing that defiance in your eyes dim and glaze over with lust as he slowly whips the strength from you one lash at a time.
Until that day, you have to be willing to set a price on yourself. Make sure that price is high enough that anyone who gets you remembers exactly what you're worth.
Just found out the work closed early today because of the snow. Have the day off. Cue stupid white-girl dancing in fuzzy socks, panties and a "spank me I'm irish" sweatshirt.
