dear other me…

[Hugh Everett][https://www.newscientist.com/article/dn26261-hugh-everett-the-man-who-gave-us-the-multiverse/]

I have lived a life that has taught me many lessons, at least about possibilities.
So when I heard about the multiverse theory, I have often wondered about what my other me-self/ves learned as they formed and grew.
Did any of my other me-selves get to be with their mom? Did their dad drink too much? Did they ever have addiction issues or bad boyfriends? Did they had a beautiful daughter?
What was their social environment like? Were women free? Were men? Was there an elite group who had most of the wealth and power? Was there war? Did people die needlessly everyday? Was there a rape culture? A patriarchy?

If I had one chance to send a letter to another self somewhere in the multiverse, what would I say? What would I ask? If we could exchange thoughts over time, what would we talk about? Could we even communicate? I’d **love** to compare notes with them!

On the off chance that we can, I’d like to begin…

## ……………..
Dear Other Me…

I am a nobody in a possibly nowhere place. I have next to no power or influence over my country. And I wonder how much you have. I hope if our countries/worlds ever meet that we approach in peace. I hope your life is a good one and you are happy!

Your other me.
## ……………..

If you ever had that chance, what would you say to your other you?

 

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the night that changed my life…  (a story)

the night that changed my life…

I had been looking thru the window, cuzz the night was gorgeous and clear. I could see stars all over the sky, so clear they looked like they were right in my yard. Rather than billions of miles away.
Which is probably why they came that night.
I went to bed, and fell asleep so fast, it was like I had been given a hospital-grade sedative. I certainly had not been given one though.
And just like when you get a sedative, you often get dreams you can’t wake up from. Not that I really wanted to. I was having the erotic dream of a lifetime! Everywhere a woman might want to be touched during sex, I was. In just the right way. At just the right time.
The cock thing that went into me was cold though and it reminded me of a speculum. My interest receded a bit at that point. But came back quickly. And I tipped over the edge. I fell into orgasm after orgasm. And then slept within my sleep.
When I woke up in the morning, I was convinced I had had sex. And in the back of my head, I wondered if I might be pregnant. But how?
About six weekes later, I started to have symptoms. So I picked up a kit at the pharmacy. I really was! But how??
So I went to my doctor. I didn’t disclose my story, so she just treated me like any other woman who came in, suspecting they might be pregnant and drew blood.
It came back positive. I dropped the tea cup I had been holding. It was good that the floor had a thick carpet, or it would have broken.
I went thru a normal pregnancy. A normal labour. I started to nurse the baby and was really enjoying the bonding with my daughter.
Then one clear night, when the stars were low in the sky and just stunning, they came back.
I had that sedation feeling again and went off to sleep. And when I woke up, I had no child, and even the nursery had been cleared out. I didn’t remember her either, till years later. When I saw a baby that looked just like her. And it all came flooding back.
And all I could think from that day on was…
where is my daughter???

new at love (a story)

A first love… the excitement, the passion, the rush. It’s all so thrilling. Being new at love. Better if it’s someone who is right for you. Someone who is in the same head space as you. Two people being new at love together.
But that wasn’t the way it was. Zack and Yvonne were miles apart. Years apart. But that would have been ok, if Zack had been a different type of man. More patient. More wired toward teaching by just allowing things to unfold and guiding only where needed. Less oppressive.
But Zack isn’t like that. He loves fresh meat. He wants to be their first. It gives him a thrill.
And maybe it would have been ok if Yvonne were more street wise. She could have at least ridden out what became emotional abuse, to her at least. He knew she was new. So how could he reasonably expect her to be educated in the ways of love and sex?
At first, she took it. The undermining language. The looks of disappointment in his eyes, when she didn’t perform the way he had wanted. The criticism. Even punishment, really. He’d slap her when she failed to grasp what he wanted. Even though he didn’t fairly show or tell her how. He expected her to grasp things she’d never known, by intuiton. Or just submit to his will.
Yvonne started asking her older sisters and her friends questions about their relationships. And even a few guy friends. To get the male POV. She started to realize that Zack was being cruel. It wasn’t just her being new either. He was out of order.
With that, she started to stand up for herself and Zack became colder and more distant. Instead of realizing he was in the wrong. According to him, he was the experienced one. She need to grasp what love was. His way of loving.
But was that love? If he wanted fresh meat, then he needed to give them a chance to catch up, didn’t he? Or get a more experienced woman.
The day came when Yvonne told Zack that she couldn’t take it anymore. That things had to change. Or for her own sanity, she’d have to leave.
He just looked at her…
Yvonne said, “say something, I’m giving up on you”  https://youtu.be/O23-OjPyR9A . But Zack turned his back on her and ignored her.
Till she walked out of the house. She was dead to him. Their time together had never happened. Yvonne was left to pick up the pieces of her heart and put things into the right perspective.
It took her a good long while, but she did find a man who treated her well.
And Zack? Far as I know, he’s going from fresh meat to fresh meat, trying to find his trainable foil. Or should I say fool?

on her wedding day (a story)

Charlotte had spent a fortune for this day and so had her parents. It was her first wedding. He wasn’t her first choice, but he sure was the best one. He loved her in a way that protected both of them. Kept them both sane. And that was something she appreciated more and more as each day went by in their relationship.
She wanted to make him proud. She wanted to honour him. He was a good man.
Charlotte kept getting the feeling like something was about to go wrong though. She couldn’t put her finger on what was giving her that feeling though. So she went thru the check list.
Her friends and family were thrilled they were getting married, and so was his side. He had just sent her a choker of pearls to wear with the dress. They had talked about it before, but he wanted to surprise her with it on the day. So she hadn’t actually seen it before. It was gorgeous and fit perfectly with her neckline. So she sent a text to him telling him that she was so happy and a picture of her with just the choker on. He sent a gobsmacked emoji back. And she laughed. They had followed the old tradition of a groom not being able to see the bride in her dress. Just for good luck.
Her ladies in waiting had made sure she had the something old, new, borrowed, and blue things.
They had spent the night at their parents’ houses instead of at their apt.
They were having a church wedding and had done all the counselling with the clergy they could.
Everything luck-wise had been done.
But still she had a bad feeling. Maybe it was the way her ex-boyfriend had talked when he rang her the other night? Like he didn’t get why they were no longer together. Why she had him blocked on all her social media accounts. Why her family and friends did too.
And why when he called, she had had her phone replaced with a new one with a number change. But she was still worried…
And Charlotte was right to be.
Just as she and her father were ready to walk up the aisle to the bridal song…
She saw her ex’s face and heard him say… [Wait!!][https://youtu.be/8ZNDrA45GfQ]

media (a story)

The Casting Couch

My secretary called the usual agents and managers to get people for a casting call. My production company was looking for a new face for a pilot show. It was meant to be an evening soap opera of sorts. But not just families and the love and break up drama. And our company thought there were enough cops, mobsters, gangs, doctors, nurses, vampires and ghosts on tv. So we wanted to do something different.
We also didn’t want a beauty pageant. It would be more regular folk who worked at regular jobs in regular towns, but had something special about them.
So we wanted character actors who’d be quite happy doing a crowd piece. Each week we’d highlight a house and tell some secret about their past, their sex life, or their health that showed how they were different from their neighbours.
Yet also showed how hard they were trying to blend in. How they went to HOA meetings, school PTA meetings, did their errands, attended street fairs and bbqs, and kept up a front of respectability and friendliness. And how often they had to scurry to cover things up so noone knew their issue. How even in their family, they kept things from the youngest kids so they couldn’t tell anyone, like their teachers or playmates and their parents.
It wasn’t all about addictions or family violence either. Though that might have to come up…
Some of what was covered would depend on the actors and what we could pull from them emotionally and what would suit their looks as well. Who was available. What made sense.
From the faces of the available actors, we’d design the show and it’s themes. It was going to be a blast. We were looking forward to it.
We put the call out for a metropolitan crowd.
And that’s what we got.
My partner took the ladies and checked them out on how well they followed directions and what type of story we could tell about them. I took the men. We found out their talents and hobbies that we might be able to use to flesh out their characters.
Then we got the favourites into a room together and did some improvs in small groups, so we could see who related well together. Who had chemistry.
Until we had 10 family groups. And a small support cast for deliveries and errands, the village characters off their street. The people they would necessarily run into each week.
And finally we had our cast.
It looked like we’d have a fun show! We were really excited to get going.

The Director’s Chair

I was so excited that the producers had picked me for this new project. They gave me some license over who my crew was, now that the actors and premise of the show had been picked. I was looking forward to the process.

First I picked a designer for the costumes that I had worked with before. She was an expert and had won several peer and fan awards for her work. She was worth the extra money for her talent.
Then I picked a set designer who was not only a carpenter, but an awesome tech head. Anything I could envision, he could produce. What he lacked in experience, he had in innovation and creativity.
Next I went after a few writers who were very talented in their fields, and each came from different genres, so we could come up with a really cool, mixed format in the show. Mixing the pot often brought out something new. And the producers had said they wanted new.
I brought in the producers’ team for the sound and light stage boards. They were the house specialists that the producers favoured over any others. And I was fine with using them. Their talent was worthy and there’d be no fight in the office if I usd them. I also had an FX director and a stunt director for the pizzazz that would make the show larger than life. We didn’t want people who just sat there and drank tea.
And lastly, I hired the musical team. A composer for the show’s soundtrack. What he couldn’t create himself, he went out looking for classic music to fill in the spots. I preferred having some recognizable songs the audience knew and some new stuff they might enjoy. And I hired a musical director to practice with any actors who could bring music and dance into the production.
My team was picked and I sent in their CVs to head office and waited for approval. Fortunately, they trusted me and agreed with my choices.
The team was a go and we went into meeting and plans.
The writing team went into gear and started throwing ideas and story lines at the producers and I.
There was a real buzz in the air. And my time was no longer my own.

The Writer’s Circle

We had been collected to work on a specific production and were kind of surprised by the variety of expertises we had at the table. It looked like we’d have some fun! We were looking forward to it.
The head writer was from the drama or soap opera world. She was well known and rewarded for her craft. It was her job to take our suggestions and collaberation and make something smooth come out of it. And we had to respect her CV if nothing else. She had been head writer of a few long lasting shows. Longevity is a good thing when it comes to TV. It gives you street cred to say that shows you worked on lasted for 10 seasons and were at the top of the rating charts. Well they’d have to be to get the funding for a new season. So even if you don’t watch soap operas, you presume she is a good writer and had good actors under her umbrella.
Her assistant writer was from the cop and criminal world of writing. Again, it might not be your cup of tea, but he had spear-headed shows that had won awards for writing and we had all heard of. So it wasn’t a surprise to us that he had been picked for the team.
Then it got a little unusual.
We were surprised that a comedian, known for writing his own shtick was hired to bring a comedic tone to some of the show. Even though it was not technically going to be listed as a comedy.
And another surprise was that they hired a speech writer. Though when you think about it, it makes sense. Dramatic effect can be added to with a good soliloquy here and there. But these were hardly the usual in TV production. Politicians tend to use them and big business people as well.
We also had a person who came from the porn industry and was known for really raw sex scenes. Since it was an adult show… but porn? lol I might hang around to watch taping, when they let me!
So the common themes of drama and effect were noted by the circle. They seemed to be important to the studio. Which was fine by us juniors who were hired. We were there as idea people. We came from different backgrounds and cultures, To flesh out the characters from a place of knowledge.
We would have tech and special area advisors, but mostly it would be us. Ready and willing to fight for our characters and our plots. To add authenticity. And so excited to be given a chance to work with these people on an innovative production.
It could be a winner or a bust though. New isn’t always accepted well. We hoped the audience and production company liked our work.
We were loaded and ready to go!

Cameras and the Continuity Chair

It’d seem like these jobs would have little control over anyone. i mean every one tends to boss them around. They even have special jobs reigning them in, like the editor and director.
But you’ll never guess how much confusion can occur when these jobs don’t get done right. So don’t pee in the wind and get them mad at you.
There are so many factors that effect these roles in the industry and they have their own awards and unions as well.
They have their own “stories” within the script and one little error can blow the whole movie. They have their own marketing team that hunts down all the advertisers and placement agreements get made that cost more than the show or movie ever will.
Imagine, if you will, a breakfast scene that has baked Alaska, instead of scrambled eggs and toast. Or a shot that shows only the jam and not the people talking at the table. Well, not quite, obviously. But you get it, right?
They are perfectionists. And they rarely get the notice of the world. I mean, when at a movie or watching tv at home, do you read who does the shots or what is the name of the person who does continuity? Did you even know that job exists?
Imagine if, in one shot, you see the woman has a pink blouse, then the next she wears a puce one? Yet it’s supposed to be her having one date or dinner with friends?. Or it’s supposed to be a really poignant moment and yet on the screen, all you see is an ant going across the table? The movie had better be about ants then. 😛 How about if he comments on her beautiful smile, yet all you see is her ear? Wouldn’t that be weird?
It’d be a topsy turvy world if they were listed before the actors and producers, but their job really makes or breaks a show. Movies are shut down when they are on strike, trust me.
But never mind, take your pee break. By all means. LOL Nothing to see here.

the plot lines

No matter who you are, or what you believe in, there are things that happen to everyone.
You are born, you grow up, you mate, you decline and you die. In a drama, you look for things that people identify with. In a comedy, you look for things that make people laugh. That most often happens when they understand what is going on, when it’s real to them. When it’s plausible.
And there are things in populace stories that endlessly fascinate the audience: war, crime, magic, technology and science.
If you want people to stay hooked, then you need to show them sexy, nude bodies. Preferably having sex. It’s the go-to for shows that cannot hook you without being ribald. It’s the sign of an unintelligent script, if you cannot turn onto an episode without seeing sex or nudity. Yet it has become common.
The most funny script writers show people’s quirks. The things that make that being unique. And tweak them until they are hilarious. It’s even funnier if it’s done in a way that makes that quirk endearing, rather than you laughing at them, you laugh with them. You see more than just their struggle. You see their growth. You cheer for them. You cry with them. So it’s deeper than a pratfall. But you feel the pratfall when it happens.
Kids and animals are horrible to work with, because they cannot be corralled in any meaningful way. So you make the scripts more open to ad libs. Give the actions and words a buffer zone. And let the cameras run. Kids and animals steal the show.
Keeping these things in mind, you get a good story.
But even then, you aren’t guaranteed a success. It’s like there’s a wave behind the seasons as to which shows get the air time and which don’t. Something you loved last year you might not like this year. It could be that another show has taken over the wave, or it could be that that show has lost it’s momentum. And no amount of money changes that.
Saddest part is that really good stories, actors and writers go to the dump every year. So what do you do with that? … Move on. If it’s a classic format, at least you can try again later. If it’s pop, it’s toast though. Unless, in the future, you can do a decade review? A tribute?
What is the biggest boss of them all on TV and movies? The wave.
If you don’t fit into that wave, you have no place held for you in media. It really is that simple.

Audience Interest and Inclusion

People want something interesting. Someone they are fascinated by. They follow stories of the rich and famous to see how the other half lives. Then find out that they have issues too. The stories about the upstairs/dpwnstairs and the places where they meet are the most favoured.
They want to see pretty, beauty. Like high fashion, high art and awesome food they’ll probably never taste. And the gorgeous settings/ houses the rich live in and offices they work in. They want to fantasize that they might end up there.
They want to see people they relate to. People they might meet in their real lives. The stories their neighbours, friends and family members might tell.
They want to see people who they might be able to have sex with and marry,
And they want people who are way out of their reach.
They want to see diversity. They are easily bored and want stimulation.
They want truth, not stereotypes.
They want to feel as if they are seen by the media. And finally, that is coming into being. Long after the days of feminism and the civil rights movements’ and their haydays.
You see the changes in the language. It’s less about the glamour of old Hollywood and the Christian Church and more about the metropolis. The women don’t all sound like they went to Vassar and the men don’t all sound like they went to Harvard and Yale. You can hear “street”.
You see real people in the street. The shopkeeper, the pub owner, the local restaurants and diners, and even the beggar on the corner. TV has finally caught on that you cannot hide reality and expect people to believe in your show these days. Yes people want escapes, but that doesn’t mean they want fake.
Is that the product of the counter culture we have around us everyday? Or did the film producers finally step outside the studio and look around?
And you can see the world citizens as well. Travellers go around the world, collecting interesting stories and seeing how they relate to what goes on in our neighbourhoods. They collect folk arts and show us what beauty is in many lands. We have become cosmopolitan. Urbane. Might as well, since we can so easily travel. It’d be weird if we were told one thing then travelled and found out it was all a lie. All propaganda.
This state of being is growing in the past 20-30 years.
The world is at our doorstep. So close you can grab it. But not without a fight. There has been a real media/cultural revolution, hasn’t there?

 

prayer for guidance

Prayer for Guidance

Vishnu, protector and preserver of humanity, guide us in our paths.
When I am a child, keep my innocence safe
So I can trust in the light
When I am a student, keep my mind open
So I can learn the path I am meant to be on
When I am family bound, help me to respect
Those around me and hold them near.
When I am an elder, show me your wisdom
That I may pass it on
And when I am an ascetic, keep me humble
And free from all distractions
Bound by prayer and service
May I worship you in all your incarnations
Thru the ages of humanity
Thru the cycles governed by Brahma and Shiva,
keep me safe as things are born and as they die.
For I have no power and I need your arms around me
So I can live free, instead of hide
In my own insecurities.
May I be at peace, calm in my soul
So I can best serve you.

for the band

For the Band (a story)

Geoff was the roadie for a really cool band, that made him proud to belong to, when they were on stage. Or when they were giving interviews. Their name looked good on his resume and his friends had lots of questions for him when he was home. He was often asked for autographed pictures of them.
But he didn’t talk much about the band. He got kind of snarly when prodded.
His friends thought that was weird, cuzz the band seemed like such cool people. They had such charm when they gave interviews and their stories seemed so cool between sets. Their jokes were just the right tone between raunch and propriety. Just a bit on the off colour side of life.
Even people who didn’t like their music thought they seemed like good people to hang out with. Their parties were legendary.
And it was more than Geoff could take. He was looking for a new job. One where he didn’t feel so smarmy.
The odd thing was, there was no gossip out about the band. He figured their lawyer was really good at hushing things up, or the people they mistreated were so hurt they didn’t dare speak up. He wondered if it would make any difference if he offered to support any claims they made. But Geoff had signed a waiver and he knew he’d never work in the industry again if he spoke up.
Finally, he found a new band he wanted to work with and pulled the band leader aside to give his notice. He saw a really strange look in the leader’s eyes. And got a bit worried. Geoff made it clear that he just wanted a new challenge and nothing he knew would ever come out. He swore it up and down. And the leader’s eyes got weirder, not calmer.
So Geoff left. His attempts at reassurance didn’t seem to be working. So he stopped talking.
Geoff went to the liquor store and got some takeout and went back to the hotel he was staying in. He booked his flight home and sat down to watch a movie, while he ate and had a few drinks.
And he fell asleep….
Or did he?
He became aware again when he opened his eyes and looked around him. He saw a rocky cave and lights of many fires in the warren. He saw skulls and bones around as well. He tried hard to wake himself up, but couldn’t seem to. He was stuck in the cave. Screaming for help. Till he couldn’t scream anymore.
The band leader reported Geoff missing the next day. He must have felt he had to. For appearances sake. Because they weren’t even on friendly terms, let alone friends. And Geoff was leaving the group, the band. So why not just let him fade off into obscurity?
The last thing the cops found of Geoff was his fingerprints on the bottle of hooch he had drunk from and his pee in the toilet bowl he hadn’t flushed. And his clothes in the bag he had packed so he could go out to the airport in a rush the next morning.
Geiff never made his flight. Never picked up his rental car. Or checked out of the hotel. The room was paid for by the band. So it’s not like he was skipping out on the bill. There was no need.
Geoff’s credit cards were never used again. And it’s not like Geoff was rich. I mean roadies make a decent salary for a big named band, but they aren’t likely to have a lot of money, unless they’re embezzling. And nobody found evidence of that in the band’s books.
So he became a question that was asked now and then when a reporter had nothing else to ask. Or a fan had a fond memory of Geoff getting them an autograph or some piece of merch they wanted. And he was remembered kindly
for not asking for a blow job to do the favour. Geoff was always remembered as a good man.
So where did he go? Nobody knew… except maybe the band leader?

beyond good and evil… missile strikes pending

beyond good and evil …missile strikes pending

Blame it on shows like
Charmed and
Supernatural

I don’t think that good and evil is a divine concept. I’m pretty sure it was built in the day when humanity was superstitious. When they told monster stories to keep their kids near the campfire. It is what they had to tell themselves to explain a universe that was out of their control. (I’m not sure that day is over). It is why they practiced magic. It is why magic bred science.
I think/believe that the gods are something beyond good and evil. And that idea is what makes me enjoy shows like the above, because they often deal with concepts that are beyond good and evil. And they show how easily the line between the two is blurred, even by the divine. They also often had the demons and angels working together for a greater purpose.
And how sometimes, believing in the linear concepts can in fact lead to more evil than considering the divine as something larger does. If humanity created that concept and the gods were there only to breed us and create our universe, then I also have to wonder how much they really do intrude into our lives. Perhaps they’re off creating a new multiverse, and don’t even know what is going on here today.
If it is our concept, how do we get beyond it and start seeing the broader picture? How do we let go of the monsters and treat each other with more compassion and empathy? More understanding?
Those are the things I ponder as we seem to be heading toward yet another conflict. Since Trump (USA, UK and France) has just authorized missile strikes against Syria. Supposedly to reduce the possiblity of chemical warfare. Yet Trump is always after Syria. This just seems like another petty excuse for his/their bigotry to me. I guess if you poke the bear often enough, you get them a bit panicky and stock piling weapons. Then you get to go after them for having the weapons. Didn’t Bush do this too? (rhetorical question, cuzz you know he did, right?)
What do you get to do in the name of being holy… good… right… without being seen as the evil you fear? I guess that is the largest question of all in this. on the eve of yet another campaign.

peg aint a lady’s name here (erotica)

Peg aint a lady’s name here

Brad had been waiting all day for his dream to come true, and hoped it actually
would, as he wanted it. The fantasy kept playing thru his mind as he got ready.
First he did some manscaping. He knew this domme liked a bit of hair and mustaches were cool, but not too much. And he wanted to please her. So he paid attention to his grooming.
He knew he did not want any accidents, so he gave himself an enema, early in the day. And ate very lightly afterwards. He didn’t have much feces to spare, cuzz he was regular as clockwork. This was just a precaution. He had some gas and a bit of pressure in his belly afterwards, but it was soon over.
When he was sure he had succeeded at cleaning himself out, he showered and made sure any sweat odours were gone. Then he put gel in his hair, so he felt neat and clean.
He gathered his supplies; the cage, the condom catheter, the rope and put them in a bag for the appt,
And then he dressed. He wanted to look good for her. Brad was a pleaser that way.
He walked out to his car and made sure he had remembered everything before he pulled out of the parking spot at his condo. And drove to her place.
Brad was surprised when she ran out to the car, and was worried that plans had changed.
She told him to drive to a renovated warehouse and park in front of the loading bay doors. Brad’s head drooped and he thought the fantasy would happen another night. And he tried to be ok with that. But he was disappointed. To say the least.
When he went inside, he saw there were a bunch of men in the center of the main area. And a bunch of women formed a circle around them.
His domme told him to strip. One of the men gave him a hand putting the catheter and cage on. Then one tied him into a fetal position. It appeared he would be getting some attention afterall, but he just wasn’t sure how much and by whom. But since his domme was sitting with the other ladies, he was pretty sure it wasn’t by her.
And he was right.
Next Brad was blindfolded. Then he felt someone lubing up his anal area, inside and out.
First he felt plastic inside his butthole. Gently sliding in and out. Then when he was nice and relaxed, he felt the change to skin. Bareback. He counted on his domme picking clean men, and trusted that it would all be ok. He noticed that more than one guy was using him, and none came inside him. It was going to be a dry night.
Finally, he felt the switch to plastic again. And he heard a bunch of the people get dressed and leave.
He heard his domme’s voice as she thanked everyone for participating and saying goodbye.
He felt her arms come around him and she wrapped him in a blanket. Then she took off the blindfold. She asked if he was ok and he nodded. He was very tired and a bit sore, but ok yes.
She put a strap on and pushed it into his butthole. Then kissed him as she fucked him with the dildo. Brad was really enjoying seeing the pleasure in her eyes. Esp when she came.
He smiled at her and relaxed. His domme untied him and let him remove the catheter and cage.
Brad felt himself getting hard, now that he could. She gave him permission to masturbate, so he did. But when he got really close to shooting, she snapped her fingers against his tip. Bloody hell that hurt! And it succeeded in stopping his orgasm.
But in an odd way, he had never felt so satisfied.
His domme put a glove on and her fingers entered his anus. She stimmed his prostate until he was climbing the walls. She stopped and started a few times. Till she knew he was so super sensitive.
Finally she allowed him to cum. And cum and cum. And held him thru it. Until he almost lost consciousness in her arms.
Then she cuddled him again and asked if he was happy with the way his fantasy of being pegged had worked out.
He smiled and nodded weakly and fell asleep in her arms. She let him nap, then woke him to being kissed. For a moment, he wondered what she wanted. It seemed she wasn’t quite finished.
His domme retied and blindfolded him again and he felt a really thick arm being inserted into his butthole, slowly. Inch by inch. He felt his legs shaking and his stomach cramping. But he gritted his teeth until his body adjusted to the sensations. He’d never had anything so large inside him. And he wasn’t sure whether or not he liked it. Till a finger started to massage behind his testicles. Then he felt so good, he was glad she had arranged this as well.
He felt a cock beside his mouth, seeming to ask for permission to enter, so he started to lick and suck the tip. Then slowly allowed it entrance into his mouth, then throat. He was so turned on, he felt himself cum again. He couldn’t even tell where one ended and the next began. If he stopped at all. It was so good.
This time he did lose consciousness and was woken to spunk being splattered all over his face.
A cloth cleaned his face and he was let loose of the blindfold and rope again. He and his domme were alone again. And he was still lightly spasming and cramping. But he had a big grin spreading over his face.
His domme smiled back. and tenderly carressed his face as she kissed him once more. Then she told him to get dressed.
He followed her instructions and they went out to his car. She drove him home, then asked him if he was ok to be alone. He said yes. So she left.
Brad was thrilled with how things had gone. Even though it wasn’t at all what he had thought about all day as he waited for his time with her.
Brad wanted this to happen again. He was glad she was pleased with it too.
It was a really good thing for him to remember and look forward to again.

medicalizing, demonizing women’s health

Medicalizing, Demonizing Women’s Health

From the time we’re born, till the time we die, we are seen as Eve’s child by a system that is based on the Christian Bible and culture. The girl spawn is discarded; the pubescent is shamed for her body changes; the fertile woman is hidden while she goes thru natural processes, like a swelling body in pregnancy and breastfeeding and the menopausal woman is shamed again for no longer being fertile.
Women are more likely to be seen as mentally ill than men. But men are more likely to be seen as a criminal than women.
And we take these social stigmas onto ourselves, as if we are indeed the sinner or the hysteric for being a woman. And we take these on as markers of our ugliness, instead of being a beautiful woman, in her glory and full power. Of being part of the Goddess.
We are meant to support each other thru our changes, but often end up being jealous and mean to each other. We end up being catty. Instead of women caring for our own needs as our ancients used to do, we go to a paternalistic system of men who shame us for being unlike them. And are poked and prodded, instead of valued by our own.
We are forced to be science experiments where our parts are lopped off or added to, piecemeal, in the name of beauty and health, instead of cared for as whole beings.
Where we are compared to men and found wanting, by the fields of psychiatry and psychology.
Where young women and teens are hypersexualized, then blamed for bearing the consequences. And social services separate them from their child by slut-shaming them. Instead of blaming society and the men who had their favours. Creating many generations of broken families.
Creating a pink ghetto in the work force and demonizing the labour that women do for each other, ie midwives and doulas.
Blaming and shaming women who try to create our own styles of being, support and leadership of ourselves. And leaving us no seats at the tables of influence and power in the institutions of the world.
Doing everything they can to divide us, so they can continue to control our reproductive forces. Making death our solution, rather than life.
In this system, how do we care for ourselves and our mothers, sisters and daughters? When we don’t have the wealth or resources men (even within our class) do?
How can we rid ourselves of the stigma of being Eve’s child in a Christian health and legal system that demonizes us? How can we take back the models of our ancient mothers and sisters and still live in today?
Maybe you have answers, but I don’t. So I’m asking.