yesterday, "Blogger", announced that it is taking measures after March 23rd to limit and cut-off exposure of adult related or sexually graphic blogs listed as "public". which unfortunately, means me and my blog. i am extremely unhappy with this decision, for "Blogger" has been an effective and open way for me to get my scared, timid, submissive voice and opinion out there, to the public, in regard to my realife experiences with the lifestyle. i understand their concerns, but now ... i will need to find another free open to posting, public venue, that will not dissuade or discriminate against my public, adult oriented posts.
therefore, eventhough the clock is ticking, i was wondering if any of Y/you knew of any great blogging platforms that were not restrictive and would have a free and open public platform for posting? please get in touch with me with Y/your suggestions.
thank you, and i hope to hear from some of Y/you soon.
And again, thank you for reading and supporting my blog.
pescado
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some things Y/you should know about me
- sushichum
- atl, GA
- this blog is about me and my expressions and acceptance of being a male submissive within a female dominated world. i accept the rule of female dominance and supremacy and realize that it is only a matter of time when this shall be the cultural norm within O/our society. in this blog one will find examples of my art, my writings, jottings, videos, observations and stories which chronicle and revolve around my life and fetishes. throughout this blog i hope to honor the creativity, superior intelligence, strength and physical vitality of women, while at the same time point out the insecurities, shortcomings and frailties of males. as such, this blog has a decidedly Femdomme slant.
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2/24/2015
2/22/2015
blown away!
hello all my loyal blog readers.
yesterday i was blown away! i couldn't believe it, but there were 104 hits on my little blog! 104! and not one damn, f!cking comment. i know that those who read my blog are for the most part, "little f!cks who in reality are scared, shitless, wannabe submissive men afraid to speak out and hiding in the shadows" .. at least that is how my Mistress views and describes most of you. but come on! surely one of you must have some type of intelligent comment in regard to my blog posts. i know that you find them interesting and worthwhile, because of the sheer volume of hits i am seeing.
listen, i am willing to be the moderator to start a discussion on any of the topics i have posted, but someone has to be willing and brave enough to have the "balls" to speak out and start a conversation about it.
testing, testing is anyone out there! anyone willing to post at least anonomously on some of the posts and topics i have written about?! comeon, surely there must be at least one person out of 104, who is willing to take a risk!
* to the superior Female Dominants reading my blog, please accept my apologies for this outburst, but i would also appreciate hearing from you in regard to any posts which may be of particular interest to You. thank you respectfully for Your readership*
pescado
yesterday i was blown away! i couldn't believe it, but there were 104 hits on my little blog! 104! and not one damn, f!cking comment. i know that those who read my blog are for the most part, "little f!cks who in reality are scared, shitless, wannabe submissive men afraid to speak out and hiding in the shadows" .. at least that is how my Mistress views and describes most of you. but come on! surely one of you must have some type of intelligent comment in regard to my blog posts. i know that you find them interesting and worthwhile, because of the sheer volume of hits i am seeing.
listen, i am willing to be the moderator to start a discussion on any of the topics i have posted, but someone has to be willing and brave enough to have the "balls" to speak out and start a conversation about it.
testing, testing is anyone out there! anyone willing to post at least anonomously on some of the posts and topics i have written about?! comeon, surely there must be at least one person out of 104, who is willing to take a risk!
* to the superior Female Dominants reading my blog, please accept my apologies for this outburst, but i would also appreciate hearing from you in regard to any posts which may be of particular interest to You. thank you respectfully for Your readership*
pescado
Now, Hop to it!
*the general theme of this story is based upon true recent real life events. however, i will not say as to what is fiction and what is truth. the reader must determine that for themselves. enjoy.*
i was still incredibly groggy when my Mistress and Her entourage arrived early Friday morning to exchange vehicles. afterall, it was 4:00AM in the morning. i had barely slept two hours, when i heard Her characteristic loud knocking on the door with my antique door knocker.
i half stumbled down the steps to let Her in, and there She stood, bright eyed, energetic and bouncing, full of life. i surmised that She must of drank a gallon of coffee to be so bouncy this early in the morning. She would of had to survive the 10 hour drive.
"Hello! Good morning! Did you expect U/us at this time?" i tried to see through the glaze of sleep which permeated over my eyes, but i was not too successful.
"Here, take my coat. I want something to eat. W/we have brought blueberry moonshine. Here take a sip." She poured me out a shot and watched me with playful, yet discerning eyes. the liquor burned down my throat but was indeed quite tasty..
"Ha Ha! Now you are really going to fall asleep. It's 100 proof!." She pointed to the label with a slender articulated finger. Oh oh, now i really was in trouble.
i stayed up for another half and hour or so and forced myself to socialize, as i always enjoy seeing my Mistress. it does not matter at what hour or time She decides to pop in on me and usher a hasty visit.
sometimes though, i don't know. i think She almost has the ability to read my mind. either that, or W/we have been together so long that W/we seem to anticipate each other's needs pretty well. anyway, i felt terrible about not being permitted to serve, while here at Her western lair. there were just too many vanilla people about, and i wanted to respect Her wishes in regard to protocol. but, i just felt kind of robbed and let down that i couldn't and wasn't expected to jump up and serve Her.
i don't know how to explain it, but it is like this desperate longing that builds and builds and has to be recognized and released. not releasing it interferes with my ability to focus and get things done in my normal life. i become obsessed with wanting to please Her and i know that everything has it's time and place, but this urge to serve sometimes is so strong that it just bulldozes through every other normal desire in my life. i am not sure if my Mistress experiences the same feelings in regard to having me serve Her, but i would like to think so.
for the most part, i think my Mistress has trained me so well, that serving Her needs, wants and wishes is paramount to my inner wiring or innate connections. but, shouldn't that be the way it is with any well trained, obedient submissive and his Mistress? Shouldn't Her thoughts become his thoughts, and Her mind's focus also meld into his? isn't that the ultimate goal of a bdsm relationship? isn't the focus and goal of power exchnge to be so ingrained not only in the physical sense, but through the intents of the heart and mind as well? therfore, it is a paradox for me to switch on and off in this regard. yet, somehow i have been able to do it.
but, enough of me ranting.
i told Y/you that a good Mistress knows innately the thoughts and feelings of Her male submissive. my Mistress possesses an innate and intuitive sense in terms of my needs. sometimes She can meet them quickly with a cold hard look that lets me know my place beneath Her feet. other times it is a command or order that She levies at me through an email or text which subsequently melts me into a lump of submissive foot goo. of course using unflattering pet names to describe me such as wimp, wuss, dork, whipped, etc ... also reinforces who i am and my place.
but, it was getting late, and much as i had enjoyed visiting and socializing with Her, it was time for me to exit, dress and get ready for a long day of work.
my Mistress noticed my apprehension and directly picked up on it.
"Why do you keep looking at the clock, don't you know that is incredibly rude to do that while I'm here?"
i looked down sheepishly and stumbled and stammered trying to find the right words.
" yes, i know, but i really need to think about leaving and getting ready for work." i spoke directly and quietly.
She grabbed another liquor infused blueberry, popped it in Her mouth, sucked it for awhile then swallowed. Her eyes then narrowed and a half paused smirk snuck across Her lips.
"Oh, really? ... and what time might that be?"
She arched back in Her chair then kicked off Her blue flats. this was a very strong signal to me, that She intended to stay for awhile and that i better have a very good reason for preparing to leave.
"well, i said quietly, i need to be to work by 7:15. i really need to go upstairs, and change. besides, it is "casual Friday, and i'll be back quickly. it shouldn't take me very long."
She looked at me like a cat that was preparing to pounce on a mouse, and i could see that Her mind was whizzing and whirring and that She was going to use this as an opportunity to poke fun and play with me.
" I really don't think that you need to change at all. Wear what you have on. You look just fine."
She knew the way that She said it was very close to a direct command and in my submissive state, She could very well tell me to go to work naked and i would probably do it. but, due to the early hour, i was kinda of groggy and just a tad grumpy and i questioned Her.
" i can't wear this to work. it's my sleepwear. i'd look sill ... then i realized ... She had me. y in this."
i watched helplessly as Her green eyes sparkled and widened with delight. Her smirk widened to a wicked toothy grin and i watched helplessly as Her upper fangs brushed up against the bottom lip then swept by Her darting tongue.
"Exactly, and you will do as I say. Right?"
i was trapped now, and She knew it. i was honor and duty bound to do what She ordered and my choices for a quick and honorable exit were dwindling rapidly.
"yes, i .... will" i hesitated briefly, but regained myself when i saw the features on Her face harden.
"Good. and you do want to please me, Right? So here is what I want you to wear today."
She propped Her muscular calf balanced over Her knee and began pumping then curling and flicking Her long toes at me. it was as if She was driving proverbial nails into my coffin.
"you will wear what you have on, for it pleases Me ... No strike that, I have changed my mind. I want you to dress in those white sweatpants and shirt and wear a hoodie with big rabbit ears and ridiculously big rabbit feet. And I'll find you a little puffy tail to wear." Understood? She threw back her dark mane of hair and gazed at me with direct intention
i knew whenever my Mistress said, "Understood", that this was of utmost importance to Her and that I had better do it and follow through with Her wishes.
"yes, i do understand, but i really don't have a bunny suit, and where will I find one at this hour of the morning?"
She didn't miss a beat, and quickly replied,
"That's your problem boy. Do it." She responded more gruffly and with greater assertiveness that said, i had better get going.
"Oh, and one more thing, She grabbed me brusquely by the front of my shirt and pulled me down close. pinching my nose hard between her strong long fingers i found it difficult to breathe and opened my mouth to create a clearer airway.
"Now, listen to this, little boy." She whispered breathlessly into my ear.
" I am going to have the septum of your nose pierced also, and you will be led around as My little bunny boy, hopping around serving, entertaining and amusing Me like the little bitch that you and I both know you are and were always intended to be."
She pinched my nose even harder once more until my eyes reddened and teared, then released me with a swift kick to the ass and sent me scurrying upstairs to Her ridicule and tethered laughter.
"Now, hop to it!"
i did obediently as i was told and hopped obsequiously up the stairs.
i was still incredibly groggy when my Mistress and Her entourage arrived early Friday morning to exchange vehicles. afterall, it was 4:00AM in the morning. i had barely slept two hours, when i heard Her characteristic loud knocking on the door with my antique door knocker.
i half stumbled down the steps to let Her in, and there She stood, bright eyed, energetic and bouncing, full of life. i surmised that She must of drank a gallon of coffee to be so bouncy this early in the morning. She would of had to survive the 10 hour drive.
"Hello! Good morning! Did you expect U/us at this time?" i tried to see through the glaze of sleep which permeated over my eyes, but i was not too successful.
"Here, take my coat. I want something to eat. W/we have brought blueberry moonshine. Here take a sip." She poured me out a shot and watched me with playful, yet discerning eyes. the liquor burned down my throat but was indeed quite tasty..
"Ha Ha! Now you are really going to fall asleep. It's 100 proof!." She pointed to the label with a slender articulated finger. Oh oh, now i really was in trouble.
i stayed up for another half and hour or so and forced myself to socialize, as i always enjoy seeing my Mistress. it does not matter at what hour or time She decides to pop in on me and usher a hasty visit.
sometimes though, i don't know. i think She almost has the ability to read my mind. either that, or W/we have been together so long that W/we seem to anticipate each other's needs pretty well. anyway, i felt terrible about not being permitted to serve, while here at Her western lair. there were just too many vanilla people about, and i wanted to respect Her wishes in regard to protocol. but, i just felt kind of robbed and let down that i couldn't and wasn't expected to jump up and serve Her.
i don't know how to explain it, but it is like this desperate longing that builds and builds and has to be recognized and released. not releasing it interferes with my ability to focus and get things done in my normal life. i become obsessed with wanting to please Her and i know that everything has it's time and place, but this urge to serve sometimes is so strong that it just bulldozes through every other normal desire in my life. i am not sure if my Mistress experiences the same feelings in regard to having me serve Her, but i would like to think so.
for the most part, i think my Mistress has trained me so well, that serving Her needs, wants and wishes is paramount to my inner wiring or innate connections. but, shouldn't that be the way it is with any well trained, obedient submissive and his Mistress? Shouldn't Her thoughts become his thoughts, and Her mind's focus also meld into his? isn't that the ultimate goal of a bdsm relationship? isn't the focus and goal of power exchnge to be so ingrained not only in the physical sense, but through the intents of the heart and mind as well? therfore, it is a paradox for me to switch on and off in this regard. yet, somehow i have been able to do it.
but, enough of me ranting.
i told Y/you that a good Mistress knows innately the thoughts and feelings of Her male submissive. my Mistress possesses an innate and intuitive sense in terms of my needs. sometimes She can meet them quickly with a cold hard look that lets me know my place beneath Her feet. other times it is a command or order that She levies at me through an email or text which subsequently melts me into a lump of submissive foot goo. of course using unflattering pet names to describe me such as wimp, wuss, dork, whipped, etc ... also reinforces who i am and my place.
but, it was getting late, and much as i had enjoyed visiting and socializing with Her, it was time for me to exit, dress and get ready for a long day of work.
my Mistress noticed my apprehension and directly picked up on it.
"Why do you keep looking at the clock, don't you know that is incredibly rude to do that while I'm here?"
i looked down sheepishly and stumbled and stammered trying to find the right words.
" yes, i know, but i really need to think about leaving and getting ready for work." i spoke directly and quietly.
She grabbed another liquor infused blueberry, popped it in Her mouth, sucked it for awhile then swallowed. Her eyes then narrowed and a half paused smirk snuck across Her lips.
"Oh, really? ... and what time might that be?"
She arched back in Her chair then kicked off Her blue flats. this was a very strong signal to me, that She intended to stay for awhile and that i better have a very good reason for preparing to leave.
"well, i said quietly, i need to be to work by 7:15. i really need to go upstairs, and change. besides, it is "casual Friday, and i'll be back quickly. it shouldn't take me very long."
She looked at me like a cat that was preparing to pounce on a mouse, and i could see that Her mind was whizzing and whirring and that She was going to use this as an opportunity to poke fun and play with me.
" I really don't think that you need to change at all. Wear what you have on. You look just fine."
She knew the way that She said it was very close to a direct command and in my submissive state, She could very well tell me to go to work naked and i would probably do it. but, due to the early hour, i was kinda of groggy and just a tad grumpy and i questioned Her.
" i can't wear this to work. it's my sleepwear. i'd look sill ... then i realized ... She had me. y in this."
i watched helplessly as Her green eyes sparkled and widened with delight. Her smirk widened to a wicked toothy grin and i watched helplessly as Her upper fangs brushed up against the bottom lip then swept by Her darting tongue.
"Exactly, and you will do as I say. Right?"
i was trapped now, and She knew it. i was honor and duty bound to do what She ordered and my choices for a quick and honorable exit were dwindling rapidly.
"yes, i .... will" i hesitated briefly, but regained myself when i saw the features on Her face harden.
"Good. and you do want to please me, Right? So here is what I want you to wear today."
She propped Her muscular calf balanced over Her knee and began pumping then curling and flicking Her long toes at me. it was as if She was driving proverbial nails into my coffin.
"you will wear what you have on, for it pleases Me ... No strike that, I have changed my mind. I want you to dress in those white sweatpants and shirt and wear a hoodie with big rabbit ears and ridiculously big rabbit feet. And I'll find you a little puffy tail to wear." Understood? She threw back her dark mane of hair and gazed at me with direct intention
i knew whenever my Mistress said, "Understood", that this was of utmost importance to Her and that I had better do it and follow through with Her wishes.
"yes, i do understand, but i really don't have a bunny suit, and where will I find one at this hour of the morning?"
She didn't miss a beat, and quickly replied,
"That's your problem boy. Do it." She responded more gruffly and with greater assertiveness that said, i had better get going.
"Oh, and one more thing, She grabbed me brusquely by the front of my shirt and pulled me down close. pinching my nose hard between her strong long fingers i found it difficult to breathe and opened my mouth to create a clearer airway.
"Now, listen to this, little boy." She whispered breathlessly into my ear.
" I am going to have the septum of your nose pierced also, and you will be led around as My little bunny boy, hopping around serving, entertaining and amusing Me like the little bitch that you and I both know you are and were always intended to be."
She pinched my nose even harder once more until my eyes reddened and teared, then released me with a swift kick to the ass and sent me scurrying upstairs to Her ridicule and tethered laughter.
"Now, hop to it!"
i did obediently as i was told and hopped obsequiously up the stairs.
2/21/2015
i'm a "pansy" and i know it
i was over at my Mistresses' home the other day and W/we were all sitting around talking and sharing. i had mentioned the fact that i was the only one in our filming group, who had not received his cd of the recent film W/we had all worked on together.
She looked at me and smiled contemptuously.
"That's because you are such a wimp and a wuss. he probably knows that you would never ask for it, so he thought why should i send it, if he hasn't even asked about it."
i stared back slack jawed while She continued to berate.
"Besides, you'll just cave and you know it." Her beautiful green eyes widened then narrowed darting back to mine hoping to feast on my apparent discomfort and unease from Her biting remarks.
Her words hit me like a salvo and had me reeling. for those of you who are not aware, my Mistress is not only an expert at physical torture and self defense, but is also quite a wordsmith as well. She wields her fully loaded lexicon like a well honed blade. Slicing and chopping all and any wouldbe narrative wannabes to pathetic inconsequence. quickly dispatched and nuetered with insanely lethal verbal thrusts and recants that renders them otherwise speechless, tonguetied and sumarily down for the count.
i opened my mouth in my defense, but nothing came out but a pathetic squeak, to which She aptly took the upper hand.
"Why the fuck would you even want a copy of that weak, "pansy assed" performance that everyone is just going to mock, ridicule and make fun of anyway .... hmmmmmm?" She smirked then raised her slender dark eyebrows to nefarious delight, seemingly enjoying this verbal fun of the vocabular parry and thrust.
i finally found the words to weakly defend myself, but Her verbage gifted mind was just too fast for me and had summarily tied me up and bound me, making any conceivable retort i had justifiably made appear foolish and ridiculous.
"i am not a pansy, i am fully capable of defending myself." i exclaimed.
She just laughed and surmized sardonically.
"Mmmmmmmm ... Hmmmmm ... Sure, anything you say. (Lol!!!) But, W/we all know the real truth behind what and who you really are."
now, that really bothered me, but i was bothered more by the word She used to describe my performance, "pansy assed".
"pansy assed", She had used the word to describe me on a number of occasions, and i must admit that this chosen verbal adjective really wallops, stings and reinforces who i really am to Her. but, i wast't sure as to what it really means. so, i looked it up and here is what i discovered.
So, here is how my Mistress really views me ...
Dictionary.com defines "pansy assed" as the following
"a weak, effeminate, inconsequential, wuss and cowardly man."
well, there are times that i do admit that i scream and shreak like a little girl when scared by a large flying insect, wasp or bee, and i'm not the bravest of men when faced with dastardly circumstances and will probably prefer to run and hide. and i am dismissed as being a wuss more times that i can count by my Mistress.
so, yes ... i am a "pansy" and i know it. it is important to know these things. and it seems that as i get older, i become more accepting as to what others see and think of me. i have come to the realization that i cannot help or change who i am. i am a product of my experiences and my environment.
the words that my Mistress generously uses to cut me down and humiliate me aptly describe certain portions of my personality, but it is only a part and not the whole. to know my whole parts, is to know the whole me. My Mistress knows the deep dark hidden parts that have been cut, sliced and hurt and i respect how She is able to expertly use words to heal or reinforce my niche in Her world, serving obediently, with no questions asked..
She looked at me and smiled contemptuously.
"That's because you are such a wimp and a wuss. he probably knows that you would never ask for it, so he thought why should i send it, if he hasn't even asked about it."
i stared back slack jawed while She continued to berate.
"Besides, you'll just cave and you know it." Her beautiful green eyes widened then narrowed darting back to mine hoping to feast on my apparent discomfort and unease from Her biting remarks.
Her words hit me like a salvo and had me reeling. for those of you who are not aware, my Mistress is not only an expert at physical torture and self defense, but is also quite a wordsmith as well. She wields her fully loaded lexicon like a well honed blade. Slicing and chopping all and any wouldbe narrative wannabes to pathetic inconsequence. quickly dispatched and nuetered with insanely lethal verbal thrusts and recants that renders them otherwise speechless, tonguetied and sumarily down for the count.
i opened my mouth in my defense, but nothing came out but a pathetic squeak, to which She aptly took the upper hand.
"Why the fuck would you even want a copy of that weak, "pansy assed" performance that everyone is just going to mock, ridicule and make fun of anyway .... hmmmmmm?" She smirked then raised her slender dark eyebrows to nefarious delight, seemingly enjoying this verbal fun of the vocabular parry and thrust.
i finally found the words to weakly defend myself, but Her verbage gifted mind was just too fast for me and had summarily tied me up and bound me, making any conceivable retort i had justifiably made appear foolish and ridiculous.
"i am not a pansy, i am fully capable of defending myself." i exclaimed.
She just laughed and surmized sardonically.
"Mmmmmmmm ... Hmmmmm ... Sure, anything you say. (Lol!!!) But, W/we all know the real truth behind what and who you really are."
now, that really bothered me, but i was bothered more by the word She used to describe my performance, "pansy assed".
"pansy assed", She had used the word to describe me on a number of occasions, and i must admit that this chosen verbal adjective really wallops, stings and reinforces who i really am to Her. but, i wast't sure as to what it really means. so, i looked it up and here is what i discovered.
So, here is how my Mistress really views me ...
Dictionary.com defines "pansy assed" as the following
"a weak, effeminate, inconsequential, wuss and cowardly man."
well, there are times that i do admit that i scream and shreak like a little girl when scared by a large flying insect, wasp or bee, and i'm not the bravest of men when faced with dastardly circumstances and will probably prefer to run and hide. and i am dismissed as being a wuss more times that i can count by my Mistress.
so, yes ... i am a "pansy" and i know it. it is important to know these things. and it seems that as i get older, i become more accepting as to what others see and think of me. i have come to the realization that i cannot help or change who i am. i am a product of my experiences and my environment.
the words that my Mistress generously uses to cut me down and humiliate me aptly describe certain portions of my personality, but it is only a part and not the whole. to know my whole parts, is to know the whole me. My Mistress knows the deep dark hidden parts that have been cut, sliced and hurt and i respect how She is able to expertly use words to heal or reinforce my niche in Her world, serving obediently, with no questions asked..
2/17/2015
2/16/2015
my Mistress's ride
i have been thinking and reflecting on how the cars that W/we drive certainly do reflect who W/we are and O/our individual personalities. last week i traded vehicles with my Mistress, as She had some relevant family obligations to take care of out of state.
She preferred to take my little puddle jumper because it was newer in terms of the engine, had less miles, good gas mileage and was in fairly decent shape. mechanically.
i'm always eager and happy to be able to please my Mistress, but what i didn't realize was that Her car was just as rebellious, independent, and unconventional as She is. which is by the way. all the things things that i respect and totally adore about Her. She doesn't take patriarchal or misogynistic bullshit from anyone, and neither does Her ride, apparently.
so, here are some of my observations i noted while driving Her car this past week, in a poem i recently completed. belt Y/yourself in and hang on. it is going to be an interesting drive.
my Mistess's ride
by: pescado
my Mistress's ride ...
is a chic, sleek, silvergrey, powerful machine,
that clutches the road and slashes through the curves
with low register growls,
on midnight prowls, that frightened and startled me at first.
it's grumbling idle strains, lurches and aches to be released,
at each fading traffic light Her brakes skid with a screech.
and Her engine rumbles suspiciously ... Her headlights dim, with brutal puck
taunting hatchbacks, sedans and toys with mack trucks,
rumbling in a sinister register that 's akin to, "Get outta My way you little fuck."
i step harder on the brakes to prevent consternation
or a serious engagement of police confrontation.
but Her ride doesn't care. Her engine purrs with predilection.
as i hear Her v8 shift effortlessly, dominating all at each intersection.
my Daughter reminds me to collar Her beast as it strains to run over
a runner whose slipped on some grease.
i slam on the brakes and Her "Christine", eerily whines, lamenting another opportunity
to spatter, maim or blind.
with just a tap of the accelerator, She easily rockets ahead
i can't seem to control Her... i'm befuddled with dread.
She tears up the freeway, and streaks down the middle
i look down at my pants and see i just piddled.
yet, i feel enveloped and secure in Her mechanical beast.
Her metal frame is sturdy, solid, yet, inside is soft ... cuddly like fleece.
turning to look in the mirror, i try not to stare
but, it's startling, to think that Her trunk has room enough, to hide a body back there.
the beats of Her tunes lull me into a trance
while Her car weaves in and out lanes ... gambling with chance.
an old lady with a walker, with a faded yellow purse, a young boy rides a tri-cycle
both unaware of the hearse, which seems to speed aimlessly, with a mind all Her own
but, then suddenly, the ride is over, and we're finally home.
i struggle to release the key from Her clutch. push down the parkingbrake
and pray with some luck, that She will release the locks on the doors and i will not be missed
oh, please, please, please, for i have to piss.
as i step from the car and lock Her down for the night.
step warily up the walk i am indeed a drenched sight
the last spark of the ignition and Her engine does howl
"i'll snatch you up next time boy". She hisses then growls.
She preferred to take my little puddle jumper because it was newer in terms of the engine, had less miles, good gas mileage and was in fairly decent shape. mechanically.
i'm always eager and happy to be able to please my Mistress, but what i didn't realize was that Her car was just as rebellious, independent, and unconventional as She is. which is by the way. all the things things that i respect and totally adore about Her. She doesn't take patriarchal or misogynistic bullshit from anyone, and neither does Her ride, apparently.
so, here are some of my observations i noted while driving Her car this past week, in a poem i recently completed. belt Y/yourself in and hang on. it is going to be an interesting drive.
my Mistess's ride
by: pescado
my Mistress's ride ...
is a chic, sleek, silvergrey, powerful machine,
that clutches the road and slashes through the curves
with low register growls,
on midnight prowls, that frightened and startled me at first.
it's grumbling idle strains, lurches and aches to be released,
at each fading traffic light Her brakes skid with a screech.
and Her engine rumbles suspiciously ... Her headlights dim, with brutal puck
taunting hatchbacks, sedans and toys with mack trucks,
rumbling in a sinister register that 's akin to, "Get outta My way you little fuck."
i step harder on the brakes to prevent consternation
or a serious engagement of police confrontation.
but Her ride doesn't care. Her engine purrs with predilection.
as i hear Her v8 shift effortlessly, dominating all at each intersection.
my Daughter reminds me to collar Her beast as it strains to run over
a runner whose slipped on some grease.
i slam on the brakes and Her "Christine", eerily whines, lamenting another opportunity
to spatter, maim or blind.
with just a tap of the accelerator, She easily rockets ahead
i can't seem to control Her... i'm befuddled with dread.
She tears up the freeway, and streaks down the middle
i look down at my pants and see i just piddled.
yet, i feel enveloped and secure in Her mechanical beast.
Her metal frame is sturdy, solid, yet, inside is soft ... cuddly like fleece.
turning to look in the mirror, i try not to stare
but, it's startling, to think that Her trunk has room enough, to hide a body back there.
the beats of Her tunes lull me into a trance
while Her car weaves in and out lanes ... gambling with chance.
an old lady with a walker, with a faded yellow purse, a young boy rides a tri-cycle
both unaware of the hearse, which seems to speed aimlessly, with a mind all Her own
but, then suddenly, the ride is over, and we're finally home.
i struggle to release the key from Her clutch. push down the parkingbrake
and pray with some luck, that She will release the locks on the doors and i will not be missed
oh, please, please, please, for i have to piss.
as i step from the car and lock Her down for the night.
step warily up the walk i am indeed a drenched sight
the last spark of the ignition and Her engine does howl
"i'll snatch you up next time boy". She hisses then growls.
2/15/2015
A Dominatrix Shares Her Opinion About the film "Fifty Shades of Grey"
so, "Fifty Shades of Grey" premiered this weekend. it is interesting to note that it was scheduled on the weekend of Valentine's Day. but, no matter. i was interested to see what the critics thought of the film which deals explicitly with the subject of BDSM and what is considered to be perverse human sexual behavior. more specifically, i was interested in finding out what a professional Dominatrix thought of the book and the movie. Lady Velvet Steel, a professional Dominatrix, has some interesting thoughts and critical insights in regard to the presentation and popularity of this movie. http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/fifty-shades-grey-a-dominatrixs-773577
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