Sunday, September 30, 2012

DIGITAL BOYFRIEND

I have a digital boyfriend.
His face and neck are a circuit board
Laser beams shoot from his bionic eyes
His voice is electronic
And calibrates my trance-like state
Like music playing from Shpongleland…

Touching this digital boyfriend takes skill
Of typing on the keyboard at 70wpm
With emails being so plentiful some never get returned
Awaiting text replies at the speed of satellite
And sexting leaves the body wanting for more than letters on a screen…

Some FB (Facebook) notifications are lost in the ether
And the FB group we met in has been replaced by PMs (private messages)
Such messages are held in the electron cloud
Until released like LED reign
From the cyberspace universe
To our electronic-dependent souls…

I believe in my digital boyfriend
For his words are the texts that ring true to my heart
And his voice bears the blessings that only cell phone airwaves can provide
His smile is as beautiful as the best skype video in existence can provide
And we fall asleep together there…

There is hope on the horizon of the digital landscape
For, one day, as his bionic eyes bore into mine
His laser beams will carry the information
That will overwhelm my senses
And overpower my brain with reality
That the electronic atmosphere of our beingness will be replaced
By a real life experience that requires no screens or buttons or speakers
All in the perfect time…

Until then, in this day and age, we just have to love technology…
And what would we do without it?
Because, God, how I love my digital boyfriend!


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Tuesday, September 25, 2012

CORRECTIVE PAIN

WARNING: This is a BDSM story (I know it's mild, and not in full BDSM style or end, and that it defeats the purpose of what BDSM does or stands for, so eat it if you care to, and spit it out if you don't. I don't give a hoot... it's my blog so, meh!). If you are offended by sexual content or BDSM-related topics please leave this page now.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Have been reading up on BDSM lately for some research into the human psyche concerning sexual and social dominance and decided to write a random blog. I figured this one needed a twist, based on my own experiences of going from lower energy to higher energy in my life. Sometimes we need a mix of both for balance. Sometimes the old habits are more easily replaced with the less-forced path, if only we do nothing more than allow it. Sometimes (most times) it is just that simple.





CORRECTIVE PAIN

Michaela didn't like being corrected... in fact, it downright embarrassed her and made her feel stupid; so what was this strange impulse within her that she was turned on when scorned by her lover?

The words he used were incredibly important... but,

It wasn't just his words, it was his tone.

It wasn't just his tone, but his overruling energy.

It wasn't just that, but his authority.

It was his power.

It was his power over her.

It was the pain of loss... loss of ego.

The sting of being brought into line.

The breaking down of mental walls.

The verbal spanking...

Followed by the smack on the rump for good measure. Perhaps more than several smacks, on occasion.

It was the trust she had in him to love her, despite the pain.

It was the ability to properly deliver the pain, in just the right way, at just the right time, at just the right level. Only someone like Roderick would know those sensitive details. He had studied her, and tested her, and brought her to this point carefully, and slowly.

Roderick's deliverance of his punishment was sublime. His attitude reflected that of his position over his minion... but she was no true minion, for he realized she reflected the beauty he saw in the world, like a small soft feather gently floating in the breeze, or a sweet-smelling blue flower, which is rare and outshines any orchid.

Her submission to him was divine, breaking all the rules of everyday women, who were as common as housewives were to to military men. Nothing more sacred or precious existed except when she listened to him, and let him lead without question. He liked being trusted, and adored by her. He liked the authority she allowed him to take, while she laid back and accepted his rule.

Very rarely anymore did she abuse her position, get defensive and rebellious, or become argumentative and bratty, or to try to top him from the bottom she had dedicated herself to. She normally lived in her head, and so she drew into her body, awakening the root chakra of her soul, and chose to radiate out from the seat of her being. Her place was one of service, but not today... she had lived outside of her principles and offended him by her behavior.

He looked at her naked body, empty of all things manmade, including the earrings she normally wore. She went from a curled up position into one of sitting up next to him, as he approached her.

Her eyes were wide and attending. She knew she was still in trouble even though he was smiling. She wondered what he was up to?

Roderick loved Michaela, so much that he had fancied to training her to his standards. Even his spiritual outlook could be carried by the likes of Michaela, so multi-faceted was she. But today he was sexually hungry for her... and he wanted to take charge over her insolence, for she had been bad.

Something came over him... the sheer beauty of her soul, resplendent before his mere presence! But he was not going to miss a lick... this was going to make it all so much sweeter! He sat down next to her.

"Bend over." Calm and bluntly, he put it, raising his arm into the air, and flattening out his hand to strike her bare bottom.

Michaela whinced when she saw him raise his hand. She knew he meant to lean over his lap. Her breathing shallowed, and drew in and out at a quickened pace. She waited, expectantly, knowing the slap to her bare arse was coming by his still-raised hand.

But it didn't.

Roderick just let her think it was coming. He let her breathe fast and expect the punishment. Then he put his hand slowly down and caressed her round bare buttocks.

"I'm not going to spank you," he said calmly and lovingly. "You are forgiven."

"I am?" she blinked, confused by the change.

"You are." Roderick was serious, and had a gentleness in his eyes. Even his smile seemed to radiate a genuine caring for her.

She thought he was being weak, but for some reason his grace towards her touched her deeply. She raised up, crawled into his arms and began to weep, but not just for the loss of the spankings she felt she deserved to receive, but because some part of her soul felt at peace. The peace felt smooth and soft, like a bear skin rug that glides across her nude skin. She realized that feeling was mimicked by his hand... despite her curling up into him, his hand found her buttock again and was rubbing it with a sense of nurturing.

Michaela suddenly had a desperate feeling like something was wrong. Why was he being so loving to her? She felt that things had been going too well lately, which is why she decided to create a disturbance... well, at least subconsciously. She felt things were just too "good" and that it surely couldn't last. Perhaps she had given it some help so she could feel the excitement of the moment, and the reality of what life *really* FEELS like, full of issues and conflict, the kind that creates an emotional rush, and warm freshly-reddened butt cheeks so that she knows she's alive. The alternate perception took her to new emotional heights in what she felt was true reality. Why was he denying her this atonement?

She didn't feel that she deserved to be treated well, or with any respect. Her actions had not called for it, and her words had been lies. She ached for physical pain that could meet up and surpass the inner turmoil she felt, to alleviate it. Yet Michaela was only finding that the goodness of Roderick's actions, rather than the authoritarian figure she needed right then, was too much.

She didn't understand her pain, and why she was wanting to be corrected so badly. She wanted corrective pain. She suddenly realized that she was creating her--inner--pain regardless of what was happening on the outside. Was she addicted to conflict? Was her self-esteem so poor? Why did she find pleasure in pain, and being corrected in ways that eased her soul but were taboo to the rest of society?

Roderick sensed she was unhappy. He positioned her to slightly to the side and slapped her bottom with one solid smack that stung even his hand.

She looked up at him in wonderment.

"Michaela Andrea, you will accept my choice to love you and forgive you... or else the punishment is going to be so bad that you will regret it for the next 5 weeks!"

Michaela's heart jumped for a moment, and she softened and fell back into his chest and arms.

She then felt at ease; happy and content.

Roderick knew exactly what Michaela had needed. He always did, and he wasn't about to let her forget it. He knew she would obey him this time.

Sunday, September 23, 2012

SPINELESS

Today I was called spineless...

Many project onto others their own fears
of being this or that...
in this case, being a wimp, or weak,
not standing up for one's principles...

Today, though, it was true.
I was spineless, but not for what I was thought to be spineless for.

I talked big, and put my foot down, and chose "no" to a situation,
then suddenly appeared to give in and say "yes" anyway.

Spineless; that was one of several words I heard about my behavior.

In reality, my excuse is much worse.

Worse than merely changing my mind,
and not communicating effectively,
that I had weighed out a reason in my head,
to be able to do part of it,
rather than all of it,
and then doing that,
when I had previously said I wouldn't do any of it.

In reality I am spineless for a different reason,
because I knew you wouldn't approve of me doing it at all...

So I acted it out and found initial reasons to not do it,
when in fact, I wanted to, and was afraid to say so.

I found a loophole,
and justified it when I shouldn't have.
I found a reason to change it for my own purposes.

Yet it is not any less true,
I am spineless; you are correct...
just not for the reason you originally thought.

I was not spineless because I changed my mind and didn't explain it...

I was not spineless because I did what I said I wouldn't do.

I was spineless because I was afraid of telling you the truth.

I feared your judgment against me,
your energy that bulldozes me at times,
without a chance to make excuses I shouldn't make anyway,
filled with authority,
that I respect highly...

You are entirely correct; I was spineless.

And now I know something more about myself.

And I know something more about you too...

I know how you see me,

But now I know why...

When it comes to you, I am indeed spineless.
No wonder you saw it all this time,
and waited until the perfect moment to tell me.

But the sign we saw was of "judgment of grace"...

Today, I was judged as spineless.
But I was forgiven.
And quickly...

It was forgotten, by you most of all,
but not by me right away...
I had to wallow in it for a while, and consider it, and write about it before I could get it out of my system.

I have, at times, been my own worst judge, and critic, and enemy.
I don't want that. I gave that up, so why pick it up now?

Grace is given, and accepted, so that is all.

I will work on not being spineless with you anymore...

I just hope the bitch in me has a flexible enough spine...! ;)

AUTUMN CALLS

Autumn shawls, as Mabon calls, and night falls... into the deep

Signs are how, all nature bows, as children now... are fast asleep

Morrow's sun, time is not won, shortened run... in spring will reap

Red, yellow, leaves all mellow, cause fellow... to therefore weep

Soft rains fall, hot cocoa calls, bundled all... we choose to keep

Autumn meddles, Mabon settles, Night tea nettles... and now we sleep

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

KARMIC BUTTS AND BOOBS

“Watch it girls!” old lady Fran told the two teenage girls, “that’s going to come back and bite you on your biscuits!”

Both of the girls, best friends since they were 7 years old, just looked at each other and grinned. Tara gave that knowing look to Yvette as if to say the old lady had gone cuckoo. “Thanks Fran.” Yvette murmured under her breath as she took a step away.

“You think I’m kidding, don’t you!” Fran took a step toward them, shaking her cane at the girls as if it were an extension of her finger. “Haven’t you heard of steatopygia?”

“What’s that?” Tara questioned, suddenly curious to know. Yvette looked at Tara.

Fran made it sound mysterious. “I got it, simply because I made fun of big bums, like I heard you girls do toward that lady that passed by here a few minutes ago. It’s a real problem, and embarrassing in public, especially when you first develop it.”

She paused and licked her lips to create anticipation. Both girls stood there, watching, waiting to hear what old lady Fran would say next. “Let me explain. When I was your age, I used to laugh at women who had big buttocks, and especially if they had huge breasts. Then, I got stung by the karmic bug! When I hit puberty I wound up having the biggest butt of all—that is what steatopygia does... it makes your bottom grow to an enormous size! To make it worse, the good Lord punished me further by giving me puny boobs, so small that I had a hard time nursing my two children when they were babies!”

Tara and Yvette glanced at each other in their usual manner, but this time with a serious look on their faces. They simultaneously looked back at Fran, waiting for her to continue…

“The worst part is that I hated my big butt, and also my small breasts. I hated my body. I hated who I was.”

Fran groaned as she sat down in her chair on the front porch. “I hated myself so much that I didn’t take care of myself, ate all wrong, and gained so much weight that the problem got worse. And my boobs never did grow with the rest of me. Then one day something miraculous happened!”

Both girls spoke in unison. “What happened?”

“I nearly died. I despised myself and was so depressed while driving one day that I didn’t even pay attention to what I was doing. I got into an automobile accident and actually wanted to die when I saw that truck coming for me. But it was then that I realized that I didn’t actually want to die at all, I wanted to live, but I wanted to have a different ‘ME’. So I decided that the only thing about me that I could really change was my attitude. I forgave myself for the narrow-minded prejudice, fears, hatefulness, and biases I had carried in my mind and heart towards others—stemming from myself, which I was projecting onto others--and I learned to accept others the way they were, all shapes and sizes and personalities, including their flaws. Especially their flaws! Their weaknesses suddenly showed me their greatest strengths! Suddenly the Venus figurines from the paleolithic age became beautiful to me! I began applying these same principles to myself, and began accepting myself equally as well. In short, I learned to love myself… once I did this I actually started truly LOVING others at a much deeper level than just ‘not being prejudiced’ against them anymore. I accepted my tiny breasts and giant buns. It was then that the real and lasting changes took place… I cared about my body, ate better, lost weight, and not only was healthier and looked better, but I felt better! It had a cumulative effect.”

Yvette asked, “So loving others and loving yourself was the answer?”

“Yes,” Fran said as she tapped her cane once, “but although it started out that way, it was really the opposite order that made the biggest difference… loving myself first so that I could properly love others was the key.” Fran smiled her usual big grin. . “Then one day I met my husband, who is a butt-man… kind of like how some men are boob-men, or others like feet, while others like faces or thighs or something else. My unexpected gift was that I had a man who was crazy about my ample bum, and boy does that make a difference too! Sometimes the universe brings us what we need, whether that be lessons, or blessings!”

“Wow,” Tara said. “Thanks for telling us your story. It has really affected me. I guess there is karma for bodacious butts and boobies that exists out there!”

“It exists right here,” Fran pointed at her heart, and then reached out and touched each of the girls on their foreheads. “And right here.”

The girls said their goodbyes and Fran sat on her porch the rest of the afternoon, talking with the occasional passerby on her busy street, always having a story to tell, but only that one time did she speak of her experience with karmic butts and boobs.