Bits and pieces

Status
Not open for further replies.
Now that she's quiet...

So I got her to shut up

But here's the fucking thing about what makes the BDSM thing work... and I loath to refer to MYW as a sub as that kinda implies that she's my sub. She's not. The bullshit between us is pure happenstance... annoyingly so... which only adds to the fucktardary of it all... which is the power-play... the convecting role reversal. And when your a bit off kilter to begin with and you see the sub enjoy and extract pleasure in what you are doing? What a fucking goddamn insult!

And then you feel it...
The return
The charge
The change
The want to continue

Oh how it all changes
bleeds
blends
bends
burns

Taking what you give them
Making it their own...
Feeling her hair so tight between the fingers of your clenched fist
Pulling her head back... hard
Hand over her mouth...

Her eyes... it's always her fucking eyes. such a subtle language they speak that sees through you... watching yours soften and sell you out.

You don't feel it because you are pissed to fuck.
But then you see her eyebrow raise in that "I know something about you..." type of way. And by the time your rage demands that she tells you... you know.

And she's right.
She has you
And you want her to have you
Just as she wants you to take it from her
And you hate her for it. A deep... burning hate.

I read this while sitting at my desk at work. I could feel my arousal - nipples tingling and pussy aching. I've been there. Raised that very eyebrow in a subtle, unspoken challenge.

I'm aware that you're not writing for our edification or for our pleasure. While "she" seems to be a hypothetical sub, I sense that your hatred of her is real and deeply felt.

Can I ask where the hatred comes from? Is it because you are "off kilter" to begin with, because of her behaviour, because she doesn't fear your rage or because you know that she looks inside you and sees way too much for your comfort?

I wonder which part of all that makes BDSM work for you.

:rose:
 
Hello Y. Just peeking in. I hope your spring is getting to be great. ;)

edit - Just realized... you're getting near to 200 f*-ing pages! My gosh! :p
Should we boost the comments so that you get to 200?
Do we get a pic series on 200? hehe... cheers!
 
When I tell you that you are safe,
You are.

We did not touch
We didn’t have to
Not for you to enter my domain
My world
My web in the corner
Where thoughts are weaved and dreams are felt and fantasies are experienced
…where you are safe.

You are nowhere else when you are there
…here
with me.

I have you
You have nothing outside of now
No world
No worries
No fear of desire
…or being caught feeling it
…wishing you could breath it
…be fully consumed by it
while consuming that of another…
swallowing what you can of it
as they give it
feeling it coat your throat
and work it’s way through the fabric of your being

Just as I am
Right now
In you
In thought

Holding you safely
With nothing between us
When we are not between each other
In a moment
Be it all too brief
Waiting for what words will be given
Telling them as they touch me
With their want of touching you.
 
I read this while sitting at my desk at work. I could feel my arousal - nipples tingling and pussy aching. I've been there. Raised that very eyebrow in a subtle, unspoken challenge.

I'm aware that you're not writing for our edification or for our pleasure. While "she" seems to be a hypothetical sub, I sense that your hatred of her is real and deeply felt.

Can I ask where the hatred comes from? Is it because you are "off kilter" to begin with, because of her behaviour, because she doesn't fear your rage or because you know that she looks inside you and sees way too much for your comfort?

I wonder which part of all that makes BDSM work for you.

:rose:
This has been one of those questions I should have answered right off the bat when I first read it days ago instead of giving myself time to mull it over as all my thoughts have done nothing but get in the way of the answer.

Just as I was reading it over again last night and about to reply with something along the lines of:

"you seem to know already for having raised that very eyebrow in a subtle, unspoken challenge, yourself. And that my hatred comes from a combination of her lack of fear and that she can look inside me..."

When I see that she herself has come around and posted...

Hypothetical has nothing to do with it.

...causing me to want to change my reply to: Which part of all of that makes BDSM work for me? All of it, "because the bitch won't quit."



So I am laying in bed thinking about the nature of dominance and submission when my brain begins to run its “it’s kinda like/kinda similar to” algorithms. Which more often then not lead me to The Matrix trilogy…


And really there’s no better example of the evolution and nature the Dom/Sub relationship than that between Agent Smith and Mr. Anderson/Neo, where Agent Smith is the Dom and Neo is the Sub.

In the beginning as Mr. Anderson is aware but uncertain. Tries to escape but gets caught by Smith. Smith, just looking for answers interrogates Mr. Anderson. Mr. Anderson gives him the finger... a perfect example of sub provocation. Now… what we come to learn later on about The Matrix, Smith very well could have taken Mr. Anderson by the ears and bashed his fucking head against the wall causing it to burst open like a fucking watermelon…

But there are rules.

Smith abides, the story continues and Mr Anderson becomes more and more certain, more and more familiar, more and more confident in himself. Smith remains Smith. A program tethered to directives and executions.
The Smiths and Neo meet in the end and Neo is all like “bring it.” And the Smiths are all like “gladly.” Neo kicks the ass of one of the Smiths and there’s a scene where the other two look at each other and are like “well… this is different” Never the less they press on because… well… Fuck Neo.

So what happens in the end of the first movie? Smith and Neo eventually unite. Neo “wins” and makes a phone call to The Matrix saying “Yeah hi there. Listen… I’m kinda on to you so…”

Skip the fucking second movie. It sucks save for one or two parts in it… all of which involve Smith where you learn that thanks to Neo Smith has, in turn been liberated from The Matrix himself. (more Dom/Sub action worth pseudo intellectualizing for another day). In addition to that, he has adapted himself to better handle Neo and systematically begins to eliminate all external variables.

Go to the 3rd movie and disregard all the stupid Zion bullshit. Seriously the “I BELIEVE IN YOU NEO!” kid should have been the first to be ripped to fuck by the squid things. In fact skip all the parts of the 3rd movie save for the ones that involve Smith.

Here… I’ll save you the time altogether and post select dialog at the end of the movie…


Agent Smith: Mr. Anderson. Welcome back, we missed you.
[Agent Smith pauses and looks around at the multitude of clones he has created]

Agent Smith: Like what I've done with the place?

Neo: It ends tonight.

Agent Smith: I know it does, I've seen it. That's why the rest of me is just going to enjoy the show because we already know that I'm the one that beats you.

So much disdain… yet the desire…

The dance begins and it’s a beautiful dance each blow to the other feeds the others desire to continue and there comes a point where neither seem to care if it ever ends… but it’s a movie, so it must. And in the purest of forms Smith dominates… and how it’s represented is exactly how it fucking feels. Mr. Anderson knew better. Could have simply complied and not have to be subjected to such… abuse.

But the bitch didn’t quit.


Agent Smith:
Why, Mr. Anderson?
Why do you do it?
Why get up?
Why keep fighting?
Do you believe you're fighting for something?
For more than your survival?
Can you tell me what it is?
Do you even know?
Is it freedom?
Or truth?
Perhaps peace?
Yes?
No?

Could it be for love?

Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. The temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose.

And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself, although only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love.

You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson.
You must know it by now.
You can't win.
It's pointless to keep fighting.
Why, Mr. Anderson?
Why?

Why


do



you




persist?




Neo: Because I choose to.

GOD DAMMIT MAN! What a fucking burn! Fuck you Neo. Fuck you.
 
Last edited:
of course... that's the happy Hollywood ending. Little Neo wins because he chooses to yay for free will!

whatever. Subs don't have free will. You all are submissive unto yourselves. You all seek to be dominated. You don't win. Like Neo you all fancy yourselves as something you never will be. Strong and independent. You cannot live on your own. You fear solitude. You champion the idea of peacefulness but you cannot sit still in it. You need your support groups, your social networks, your self-help books. You need... friends.

disgusting. weak.


Where does the hatred I project upon your kind come from? Re-read the above.

Why the persistence? You must know it by now. You choose to. You choose to be broken.

So how does the movie really end?


Neo says: Because I choose to. (your little eyebrow raise)

Smith says: Are you dumb? Or just stupid. (our internal reaction)

End of Story​
 
Last edited:
End of story? Of course it isn't.

What was Smiths problem? And why did the Agent have to create so many multiple versions of himself?

The burden and blessing of being off kilter. Not to say all Doms are off kilter. At least, not in the sense of having a depressive (or otherwise) disposition. Not to say that having the such gives any of us an upper hand. But then again... perhaps it does. I'm a bit biased myself, and I must say... there's something to be said about a woman visiting, tying her up, sitting on the floor, squirting her naked body with water, watching her react, and not really caring. At least except for maybe one or two squirts to her crotch/clit area that may have been a bit too sharp judging by the violent suddenness of her bringing her knees together.

So... what's the burden? Vexation. It grips your skull and bashes your teeth against it's knee. Before you is a Sub. fine. Who cares? You don't know. For the most part they are normal. But then in some subtle way they make themselves known... and that's fucking it! Their fucking subtleness! Neo's middle-fucking-finger... bam! Smith is hooked. The fucking audacity. Fine then. You want to roll? You want to play this game? Let's go.

But the sub is stable. They get up. They go to work. They go home. They go to bed. The Dom... get up "middlefinger" go to work "middlefinger" go home "middlefinger" go to bed "middlefinger" "middlefinger" "middlefinger""middlefinger" SLEEP ALREADY GODDAMN IT! "middlefinger" "middlefinger" "middlefinger" "middlefinger" "middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefinger"....................nod off....wake up "middlefinger""middlefinger""middlefin...." nod off...

Sub wakes up makes coffee enters the bedroom pulls open the blinds sun come streaking in through the sheer fabric of her silk robe. A bleary eyed Dom pulls the comforter over his head to block the morning assault... but before he does he makes the mistake of casting his look in her direction where his visual senses are greeted by the naked silhouette of her legs...

The Dom throws himself back down upon his pillow covering himself. The Sub walks past dragging a finger up over his body from hip-to-shoulder and saunters out the door.


Another movie comes to mind... Inglorious bastards... Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz. The scene where they are all at the bar in the basement. The character is TOTALLY underplayed in the movie... if you are not paying attention. If you haven't seen the movie and have the patience for Tarantino's long dialogs leading up to blood and gore fucking watch the movie, get to the bar scene and watch the sheer fucking rage build up in Sgt. Stiglitz while having to patiently sit amongst a bunch of Nazi's while the others carry on in conversation. The whole scene got me to thinking there should be an Oscar category for such a part because the actor fucking nailed it throughout the whole scene. I thought for fuck sure he'd be the one to lose it and blow the operation.

Day in... day out the Sub functions well. Socializes, is comfortable in conversation, is able to carry multiple friendships, does not tire, does not breakdown.

The Dom... thoughts... nothing... emotions... nothing... thoughts... nothing... emotions... nothing... friend... no one else... friend busy... no one else... thoughts... nothing... emotions... self... no one.... self... no one.... another self... thoughts.... emotions... another self... "middlefinger"... another self... tracing your body with her finger.... another self... her thighs... alone...

with her... alone
with friends... alone
at parties... alone

a look...
an eyebrow...
her mouth lipping the words... make me feel on the outside, how you feel on the inside...

Damage.​
 
Last edited:
I thought I'd pop in and say hi....nice thread!!!

Me and Swing need some love on the PM's ;)
 
I thought I'd pop in and say hi....nice thread!!!

Me and Swing need some love on the PM's ;)

Mmmm... yeah...

yeah.

That all is kinda getting me to get my hopes up a little too much.

I got a bit of a rope/woodworking project I'd like to knock out while my wife steps out for a couple hours for her little book club meeting with the girls.

Perhaps I'll come around afterwards to share the thought I had of feeling your hard cock pressed up and sawing back and forth between my legs, pushing my nuts out of the way all while watching Swing try to jack me off and suck you off at the same time.

but I make no promises. I'm not the best at running my own thread let alone exchanging PMs.
 
I am SO off my fucking rocker. I gotta pull my shit together. Got too many irons of interest in the fire. Too much shit distracting me. May have to actually get serious about getting serious about making some cuts.
 
whatever. Subs don't have free will. You all are submissive unto yourselves. You all seek to be dominated. You don't win. Like Neo you all fancy yourselves as something you never will be. Strong and independent. You cannot live on your own. You fear solitude. You champion the idea of peacefulness but you cannot sit still in it. You need your support groups, your social networks, your self-help books. You need... friends.

disgusting. weak.


Where does the hatred I project upon your kind come from? Re-read the above.

Why the persistence? You must know it by now. You choose to. You choose to be broken.

I can't decide whether to bite or not.

I can't speak for others, but I absolutely choose to be broken. Just not for any of the reasons you seem to think. You've set me wondering what my submission looks like from the outside. At the same time, I think It's entirely possible that the key word in all that is "project".
 
with her... alone
with friends... alone
at parties... alone

a look...
an eyebrow...
her mouth lipping the words... make me feel on the outside, how you feel on the inside...

Damage.​

Thank you. You may have just answered my question about why I'm attracted to wonderfully flawed, dominant men. Which, of course, only raises more questions.

:rose:
 
I can't decide whether to bite or not.

I can't speak for others, but I absolutely choose to be broken. Just not for any of the reasons you seem to think. You've set me wondering what my submission looks like from the outside. At the same time, I think It's entirely possible that the key word in all that is "project".


these are both critical observations as my perception is... quite flawed. Condescension and projection are the go-to tool of those with poor comprehension skills.
 
Thank you. You may have just answered my question about why I'm attracted to wonderfully flawed, dominant men. Which, of course, only raises more questions.

:rose:

I hope to fuck it's not because you have a savior complex. If so you need to fix that shit.
 
I hope to fuck it's not because you have a savior complex. If so you need to fix that shit.

Hell, no! Definitely not a saviour complex! I know what i need and it's certainly not another child to run after.

I say "wonderfully flawed" because my last partner, a very dominant man, was wonderful. The last thing I thought he needed from me was saving. If anything, it was the other way around.

We discovered his fatal flaw two years into our relationship, after living together in apparently perfect harmony for 6 months. In hindsight, I believe the traits that attracted me to him were manifestations of his need to manage his latent Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I say that because once his PTSD was triggered, and I was there to witness it, his personality changed in a matter of weeks and he was gone within 2 months.

It concerns me that he displayed the traits I admired in him the most because of how damaged he was. It makes me question my own judgement as well as the very basis of what I consider "Dominant" behaviour.

Of course, it could be pure coincidence that this man suffers PTSD. I could simply be attracted to dominant men because I'm a kinky fucker with a masochist streak and a force fetish. :rolleyes:

But you can probably see why your ramblings give me food for thought. :)

On another topic... Did you decide what to do about Little C?
 
Omg... I forgot...

[saved for the day of when I next give a fuck enough to discuss all somewhat intellectually]

On another topic... Did you decide what to do about Little C?


So... I'm all talking smart about breaking Little C (LC from hereon because did you see all that pointless typing I did a few posts ago? seriously... too much for so little. Never again!)<----[that's a goddamn lie and we all know it. I can't shut the fuck up when I get to typing! Seriously... I'm doing it right now. Why you all are still reading this is beyond me... but whatever. Keep reading suckers... keep reading.]

anyway... I'm all this and that about LC. Well shit... this was a couple weekends ago now... my wife is all "LET'S HAVE A CINCO DE MAYO BBQ AND INVITE FRIENDS AND FRIENDS OF FRIENDS!" And I'm like... "awesome"

So we did and it was awesome. And LC was among the attending. I was chopping wood in.... well I was wearing what I was wearing in this pic I posted...
attachment.php

only I was outside... and wearing jeans... and sweaty... because I was wearing fucking jeans. And also because I was chopping wood instead of posing for a picture to post hoping some online hotties would be all like (o... m... g...) Some were but all the ones I don't know about were all... ":rolleyes:"

So anyway... my back is turned and I'm doing what I'm doing knowing no otherwise when my wife is all like "BB! LC! WELCOME!"

I turn and sure as shit there they are. And LC looks away and is all huggy huggy with my wife because that's what women do. Meanwhile I go put a button down shirt on... leaving the front unbuttoned of course... and I return to be social... and feeling kinda weird for having been all "I WILL BREAK YOU! on the interwebs just the other night"

She's a lot smaller than I seemed to have remembered. Of course it was when it was colder out and she was in a sweatshirt.

To make a long story short... she's pretty fucking cerebral and zeroed all quick-like to my subversive sense of humor... falling for my shit but quickly adapting to keep herself from falling for it again thereby keeping me entertained in finding new ways to zig when she thinks I'm going to zag.

When everyone went inside to talk smart and drink wine LC and I hung outside by the fire entertaining each other with our selves. After some time we took a little break and sat in silence listening to the fun everyone else was thinking they were having inside.

I pushed the coals around in the fire and tossed a few more pieces of wood on. Taking my seat and leaning back in my chair I shot a glance in her direction and caught her watching me with a look I've come to wish I wasn't so familiar with.



And I think that's where I'm going to end it. Not so much to keep you all on the edge of your anticipatory wet pantied seats feeling the volume of your breasts swell in your bras, pajama tops, and under shirts. But mostly because I think I've blown enough smoke up your asses in this post. So... the end.
 
Status
Not open for further replies.
Back
Top