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Thursday, August 17, 2017

Cute contradiction

Today's brief post is just a little bit of photographic proof that not all 'monsters', not even all little ones, walk about on sharp claws or rancid paws. 

The angelic toes of a mischievous devil.

There's an old expression: "I've created a monster." But that's not true for me. All I did was help turn the monkey-toes of one already well-established little monster into these deceptively angelic piggies. So I didn't create the monster itself......I just helped with one small part of its disguise! (The rest of her was already pretty adorable.)

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Almost time....

.......for my annual, backyard RenFaire! (Huzzah!) Regulars here know this is a huge event for me. There are usually over 40 guests, most in costume, enjoying period music while eating and drinking their fill.....all as the 'games' of the day play out. 

"Titty, titty, in my hand, who's the fairest in the land?"

Our RenFaire does not get this wild, but it is an opportunity for adults to loosen up and be a bit naughty and bawdy!

Each year I try to add some new 'stuff'.....while keeping the best of the old. This year we will be trying "power cards". These are just like the cards any player of a game gets that give them a unique ability they can cash in for one cool thing......or gives them some little privilege that lasts all day.

Another new attraction will be a life-size "Medieval Trump" that visitors can do battle with. An operator behind a wooden backdrop will even move his arms so people can take short cell-phone videos of their duel.

Another new "Photo op" will be a set-up of a throne and backdrop, so that guests can pose as kings and queens . 

And from last year, "Lady Marta" will be reprising her role as Royal Disciplinarian.....energetically applying a nice leather slapper to the behinds of any guest who gets sent to our functional stocks! ( She and I are determined to find ways for her to get me good this year since I escaped her last time. ) "Lady Ana" will be doing her face-painting. And Osito will be serenading the assemblage with live, period-appropriate music.

Various types of duels will be fought throughout the day and even calm, seated guests can amuse themselves with an elaborate castle block table large enough for people to construct competing structures next to each other as they drink and converse. 

There is a "Quest for the Holy Grail" which tests seekers with challenges for both the mind and body. 
"...and that, my liege, is how we know the Earth to be banana-shaped." 
King Arthur: "This new learning amazes me, Sir Bedevere. Explain again how sheep's bladders may be employed to prevent earthquakes"


And you can even decorate a traditional "Maypole", fire a working catapult that launches tennis balls, or pull a sword from a stone!

I really need to post some good pictures this year. Last year I got so busy that I never got the chance to take any except on the day itself....and I am reluctant to post shots showing the faces of my guests here. So if I seem a little distracted in the weeks ahead....I am preparing the shire!


Tuesday, August 15, 2017

It's Black & White

After two sequential posts with socio-politcal themes, it's time to return to some good old depraved kink! But since "race" has featured so prominently recently, why not take a nice lighthearted, but sexy look at some images invalidating "White Supremacy" as some cultural 'given'. In fact, let's look at some nice D/s power imbalances where people of color clearly have the upper hand over their very willing and lighter-skinned brothers and sisters:


The grinning young lady on the left may be the "chef", but at least she's not the main course! What I really love about this image is the lack of any restraining devices on the dually-penetrated victim. She may not be having as much fun as her tormentor, but she isn't exactly struggling to escape either, indicating a clear acceptance of her subordinate role.

Turning away from artwork....where anything can happen merely by drawing it, let's look at some images with real people in them:

Hmmm, another nice F/f  pairing, and it's even CFNF as well. Again, no restraints that I see. It sure seems like the bent young lady willingly accepts her partner's authority. And it looks like her disciplinarian is showing her that with a little help from a paddle she too can be a person of 'color'. I just love this picture.......well, except for those socks and boots. Just imagine this scene exactly as is.....with bare feet for Miss Pinkbottom, and regular shoes or sneakers for Ms. Paddleworth.

And it's not only white females that willingly yield to the power of a dark-skinned dominant woman:
This guy seems to accept that skin color does not determine who is subordinate to whom. I know I sure feel that way............. 

If my dear friend Nickki ever orders me across her lap, all she's going to hear from me is "yes, Ma'am."  (and probably a lot of 'ouches' once she gets going LOL!) Interesting thing about skin color and race, I don't think submitting to someone like Nickki is about anything other than personality. I just think she'd be an amazing disciplinarian given the chance. And yet, I am not completely blind to who she is ethnically either.  And to be honest, I'm not sure how that factors in for me? If it does at all, it's subtle, and definitely not a negative. I wonder if it would make any difference to her?

And finally, for anyone familiar with the phrase 'Black Power', here are a few little scenes that just really drive that point home pretty emphatically:

We start off slowly with a little act of deference.....

..... then open up more than just our hearts and minds......

.......until, whether girl........

......or guy,  we finally and fully pay respect to those 'Ladies in Charge' ! It is a matter of  dominance & submission.....role, not race!




Monday, August 14, 2017

Are you sure?

 So after waiting until only moments ago, our communication-crazy, Tweet-happy president finally publicly denounced Neo-Nazis and White Supremacist movements. Yay, Donald! You are so tremendously....................not believable

Seriously, what took him so long to do exactly what his more politically-savvy, but equally self-serving VP did with ease right from the start? Why did he walk away when simply asked his position on the hate groups involved?

It was pretty simple, and I believe even more accurate, to maintain that the outbreak of violence in Charlottesville was caused by antagonism from both protester and counter-protester...............and yet still be able to separately condemn the bigoted hate groups for what they are. It's not far from how I feel. (But then I know when I acknowledge the former, I am doing so out of a sense of fairness and logic, and when I acknowledge my own revulsion at movements founded on bigotry, I am being honest.)

Is a man who lies more than he tells the truth, and who waited this long before saying what reasonable people wanted to hear him say for nearly two days, to be trusted? Why do I feel like he's saying what his advisers are telling him he must before this thing swallows him whole while secretly giving a wink to Steve Bannon, Steven Miller, Sebastian Gorka, and yes.....maybe even David Duke?

A pre-election cartoon that is proving to be pretty accurate.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Disgusted & Ashamed


My living room looks like a trip back in time. Pewter tableware and accessories sit beside long-stemmed clay pipes against Federal blue walls with cream accents. In one corner an antique Chippendale mirror frame with a carved eagle hangs opposite a framed portrait of Thomas Jefferson. Nestled between two period chairs any guest can crack open a book of the writings of Benjamin Franklin......or, if less politically inclined, a cookbook of Colonial recipes. When Rosa and I want to get away we visit the historic sites, homes, and battlefields that punctuate New Jersey, reminding everyone how much of our early history unfolded here. You could say I'm a bit obsessed with American history.

So it is not without enormous heartache and regret that I make the following confession: "I'm no longer proud to be called an American."

Readers who are anti-Trump might be saying, "well I can understand why." But it's not just our current president that is the problem. Nor is it solely the recent ugly events in Charlottesville.......or the perpetual legislative stagnation of polarized partisanship. These are certainly real problems, but we've always had problems. No, the reason I am disgusted, does not conveniently sit in one chair, or even in one large room. It is pervasive.

To put this in a direct and vulgar fashion, I have to observe that America at its historic best......while never perfect, relied on brains, balls, and heart.  Somewhere along the line our society managed to let itself be simultaneously lobotomized, castrated, and eviscerated......and not in equal measure. There are still ballsy acts taking place.....like in Virginia.....but they are without brains and heart. There are actions in Congress that are very clever.....but without nerve or conscience. And there are acts of passion that play out fruitlessly because they are not balanced with logic.

Personally, I no longer know what to hope for. I abandoned the hypocrisy of 'Democrat' or 'Republican' to identify with Libertarians. But that party has been so corrupted by other influences that I can no longer support them. I am a patriot without a party.

When I talk to people, I am frustrated by the lack of awareness the average person displays. Reality TV or the newest fad occupies the mind of John Q. Public. People choose to believe and even act on information they get from biased sources on both sides. Sensationalism sells better than truth and is easier to write. Truth is no longer important. Opinions outweigh facts....as long as they are consistent with what one wants to believe. Inconvenient truths are easily replaced with an alternative fact. And it's all OK.

Honor means nothing. "What is better for me" has supplanted "what is better for us".....or worse, "what is simply the right thing to do."

And you can still see passion.....but where is the thought? Look at Charlottesville. White Supremacists come to protest the removal of a statue, and are met by opposing groups defiant in their resistance to what they see. Then when violence inevitably breaks out, because the notion of White Nationalism is so abhorrent to most people, no one wants to say that maybe showing up to protest such a protest was not a good idea. What better way to invalidate a protest of wackos than to simply ignore it? Just like walking past a raving "the end is near" street prophet rather than debating them. You are not going to change their minds......and they do have the right to assemble and protest......even if what they are saying is something we all can agree to dislike. And there is nothing more pathetic than a protest that is actively ignored. But no, let's give attention to these people by showing up and taunting them and then be outraged at the inevitable violence that results.

Why can no one see this? We are founded on the principle of free speech. What would be the reaction if an LGBT Pride march was met with angry anti-Gay protesters who hurled insults or worse? And if violence broke out as a result, who would be to blame? Now that the LGBT community is more accepted than in the past, people would look at those protesters as instigators, but weren't the anti-White Supremacist protesters instigators as well?

But this is who we are now. Polarized opposites acting without thought. It takes courage to face an adversary.....but it also takes courage to allow an adversary to speak their mind.

And then there is the whole Red State/Blue State thing. We are not a country united. We do not share a common ideology, just a common patch of a continent: the Divided States of America. The right can't see beyond their rhetoric any more clearly than the left can see past theirs.  We have an admittedly flawed healthcare plan. But rather than dismissing the left and right extremes in favor of having moderates on both sides of the aisle working to fix it, we will lock horns like two rams on a cliffside until both starve to death.

It's not hard to fix all this. It's basic common sense: think logically, have the courage to hear opposing views, compromise, do what is right even if it is inconvenient, be honorable, be compassionate. Others have done it before us. No, maybe it isn't hard at all.......perhaps it's utterly impossible.

Friday, August 11, 2017

Degrees of power imbalance in CFNF

By now you all know of my obsessive weakness for CFNF photos. I was looking at a bunch lately and I loved the degrees of power that could be expressed simply by taking one clothed and one naked person and putting them in different situations.  On the low end of the spectrum is something like this:

Quite possibly a mother and daughter at a clothes-optional beach. Both seem comfortable and there is no overt power exchange at play.......and yet? For me there is still the slightest hint of the clothed woman having some sort of  advantage over the nude one. But given the age difference, it could be natural to assume a mother or elder already has more authority?

Then to take age and maternal authority out of the equation, we have something like this:

Clearly a posed shot with equally balanced expressions of attitude, so why does that blonde still seem to have the upper hand?

And how about this?

A couple equally in love, peers in most ways......but that lopsided condition of clothing somehow makes me think it was the lady on the left who made and served the coffee. 

Now, change the expression and focus of attention and the clothing imbalance becomes a statement:
"Why look at you......all naked and vulnerable.......while I, obviously, am not!"

And to ramp that up a notch............

....you just need to add a little control and discomfort.

Of course, sometimes there's more to the power imbalance than just clothing or lack thereof:
Even if both were clothed, the woman on the left clearly is the mentor. Factor in the nudity, and well.....you can see for yourself.

But authority can naturally be much more blatant:

Being 'walked' like a puppy is a pretty distinct display of who is in charge, regardless of clothing.

And ultimately we hit upon (literally) the best use of CFNF as a display of power imbalance:

Clearly not as subtle as two ladies strolling a shoreline with only one of them clothed! Sometimes being the only one naked also means you are the only one whose bottom is not only bare but totally unprotected!










Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Tail lights


A while back I posted a question on another forum with regard to a condition I seem to have that has not been discussed much: I have (and have had for quite some time) a somewhat semi-permanent discoloration on the cheeks of my bottom directly corresponding to the spots most often struck during a spanking. It is like having 'spank spots' that just never seem to go away......even weeks after my last trip over a lap. 

Now I have seen many discussions and explanations of "rhino-butt" ( another condition I am familiar with) but never anything on having perpetual spank marks....which I refer to as "tail lights".

Anyway, by pure luck, Pheobz, a new member of the aforementioned forum (ODDL), happens to be a medical student ( in addition to being a female submissive)   and responded with this:

"Now I am not sure for how long you have had the bruises, but usually the blood under the skin should be reabsorbed in about 3 weeks or so. (But well in your case I guess you are constantly adding up to it, so we don't know where to count the 3 weeks from :)) )

Anyway, my guess is that it is possible that you have a condition called "Hemosiderin staining".

This is when red blood cells break down in tissue and cells called Macrophages come to take up their contents. As you know, there is iron in the RBCs, when haemoglobin breaks, its iron content is released and turns into a storage form called hemosiderin, which has a yellowish brown colour and causes the discolouration.
This is a semi-permanent condition.

It takes a very long time for the body to clean up and metabolise the hemosiderin; so it can go away with time. But sometimes the cleaning up process takes so much time that part of it becomes permanent.

This happens with many surgeries and there are some topical creams that speed up the metabolising process, I suppose they are OTC so you can search for them.
There is also laser-therapy for more severe cases.

Apart from that, a better scenario is that it is just a hyper-pigmentation that might go away with bleaching creams (these wouldn't work on the hemosiderin thing as it is so deep). 
I cannot tell for sure, first because I'm not a doctor yet:D and second because I don't know how long you have had this for and also I don't know how it looks and even if I did, again I wouldn't be able to distinguish because of the first reason mentioned :D

If it wasn't embarrassing I would suggest consulting with a dermatologist.

And I would also recommend lessening the trauma to that area and giving it a rest (although I understand that might not be possible :D) "

Now I have to admit, this is the most plausible explanation for my condition, as it seems to describe it perfectly. So, "thanks, Pheobz"!  As for treatment? It seems futile to me. I am not going to stop having trauma to this area.....and wouldn't be happy for long if it did stop. And the spots don't hurt. The worst thing is that anyone seeing my bottom.....even LONG after my last spanking......would have a pretty clear idea of what Rosa and I are into. 


Wednesday, August 2, 2017

3 Coins in a Fountain......

.....all "tails"!  If you recall, or need to revisit my September 12, 2016 post: "Skinny Dipping", you'll see that there is a bit of a history regarding the desire of our friends Nickki & Jean to go skinny-dipping with us. And, it finally happened!

The story begins on Sunday when we attended a birthday party for Nickki (Happy Birthday, Nickki!) at their home. Jean was very proud and excited with their new pool, but to be honest, the weather has been weird in NJ lately, going from hot to chilly. As a result the pool was very inviting....but cold. Jean again suggested a skinny-dip later on when it got dark, and Rosa and I agreed. 

In the meantime, we had not brought swimsuits, but the ladies loaned one of theirs to Rosa and she went in during the warmer part of the day. Seeing the girls in the pool made me realize something pretty quickly: given that this was one of those very popular non-permanent frame pools and Jean was reluctant to add more water because she didn't want to make the water even colder than it was, the resulting depth for a 6'3" guy like meant meant that if I stood, the water would be up to my upper thigh. If I skinny-dipped, I'd either have to kneel, or pretty much end up standing out in the open naked.

As it was, the water was perfect for midday sunning in rafts, but I wondered how this was going to work out for the event to come. Well, eventually the sun set and Jean was ready. She was like a kid and her enthusiasm was infectious. However, the night got chilly and both Nickki and my Rosa announced they were not going to go in. However, I had not yet been in the pool and I felt like I had promised Jean all day that I would do this, so I said I'd still join her.

Without a suit to slip off in the pool, I had to strip under a towel, but given the style of ladder, once I got to the pool itself, there wasn't much to do except remove the towel and climb in naked. Jean had just entered the same way, so I was not doing anything different than my hostess, so.....Nickki and Rosa got to look on as we two brave fools went in.

The water was freezing! And sure enough, it was up to my thighs. Thus I now found myself in a momentary dilemma of either continuing to just stand there fully exposed, or kneel into the chilly water. I knelt. Within mere minutes I started to shake uncontrollably. This wasn't just me preferring a different temperature, this was my body saying: 'this water is too cold for you, doofus, get the fuck out!'

Jean saw me shivering and mercifully said I should probably just get out, and I did, providing the same spectacle in reverse.......only this time I'm sure my privates....which are not massive under the best of conditions...... must have now looked like a cashew and two acorns. I went inside to dress with Nickki and Jean soon followed.

However, the story does not end there. The very next day, on an open invitation from Rosa, Jean and Nickki told us they'd be dropping by for a swim in our pool. And they did!

It was still sunny out, being about 5:00, but because our yard is so private, Nickki just surprised everyone by stripping off her swimsuit shortly after entering the water. Rosa and Jean were playing pool volleyball and being a bold sort of guy, I joined Nickki by slipping mine off as well. It did not take long before both Jean and Rosa did the same. And then there I was......on a Monday afternoon.....in bright daylight......swimming with THREE NAKED WOMEN.....each representing a different ethnicity! Talk about a charmed life!


At one point the girls posed for this cute, butt-flashing 'buddy shot'. (just click the image for a larger view) I just tweaked it a bit with some cropping (for anonymity) and enhanced the shot with a filter. For the record, from left to right:  Rosa, Jean, & Nickki.

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

Private Playtime

After all those posts about being open with our DD, it might seem odd to admit that when it comes to "playtime", we are just as private as anyone else. And with three kids in the house......all with different schedules of work, school, and social life, it has gotten harder to find alone time where we can play out in the open. If we do 'play', it is often restricted to a locked bedroom. But this past Saturday the fates aligned in such a way that a mutual mood to have some BDSM-type fun, coincided with all three kids being out of the house, leaving other locations available for our use.

The day didn't start with playtime, however. Instead it began with a semi-serious spanking over tuna salad. Yes, tuna salad. And since this was 'technically' a "kitchen offence", that's where I got it: bent over our counter, bare butt up and out, and Rosa swinging the huge, nasty wooden spoon we keep on the wall in there. OUCH! And after Rosa was finished with that, we spent a bit of time working in the garden weeding.................with me in my cheek-exposing chaps advertising to the birds and bees what just happened! 

But the most interesting bit of fun was when we decided to come inside and play a simple BDSM game. The premise was that of me doing 'laps' around our dining room table on all fours. To make this more challenging, I had 5 plastic clothespins clipped onto the corona of my penis, each sporting a 3 oz. lead fishing weight:


This old 'self-portrait' is a marker sketch I did many years ago depicting a situation similar to the one  I experienced Saturday......except the drawing also shows a  black scrotal enclosure that I was not wearing that day, otherwise this is exactly how I looked as I ran my laps.

Thus 'handicapped', I began my awkward trek around the table, weighted clips swaying and bouncing off my thighs, and then would stop at the end of the lap, bend to kiss Rosa's sandal-clad toes several times before turning to the 'track' again awaiting her signal to start the next lap. Rosa used this short 'rest' to spank my butt with that long, wooden spoon we keep on our kitchen wall. Sometimes I'd get 10 solid whacks, sometimes 20, and sometimes something in between. None were lightly administered and each stung mightily.

As simple as these conditions were, what made the 'game' interesting was how many laps Rosa had me do. I didn't count them, but there were definitely more than I expected and they began to have an odd effect on me. The more sore I got and the more tired, the more I began to feel 'submissively desperate'. After the spanks, I'd start the next lap feeling like I was 'getting away' only to reach the halfway point and know that now I was heading back for more. And as the exercise progressed I found my toe-kisses becoming more fervent. When informed that I was beginning my last lap, I was not disappointed but a bit relieved, even though I thoroughly 'enjoyed' the game. Naturally Rosa's last round of concluding spanks made my eyes go wide and left my bottom glowing.

Shortly after our 'game', our house slowly repopulated with family, but we both felt we made the most out of our private time. That evening I was treated to a long-awaited 'O' behind locked doors. But even that was done in a deliciously submissive way. Rather than focus on me and deliver some sort of direct attention to get me off, like a hand job or tease, Rosa merely relaxed curled up on her side lazily on our bed watching TV, while I got to tongue her gorgeous bottom. I felt like she was emphasizing our roles by only giving me her ass......but otherwise ignoring me. It was kind of sexy. I was so horny that this activity alone almost was enough to trigger an explosion....but only "almost". My groin still required some additional stimulation.

Sometimes I think Namio Harukawa spent some time peeking through our bedroom window.

Often when we do this 'treat' Rosa will help me along with her feet, since the position automatically results in them being right near my crotch. But Saturday was a bit different in that she would only sort of hold me with them, yet added no movement or teasing to 'help' stimulate me at all. Instead I had to 'work' for my 'O' by desperately undulating against them as I tongued her butt. 

As I did this I found myself mentally fluctuating between two very different mindsets. In one moment I'd close my eyes and be enveloped in a foggy cloud of horny passion for this 'treat' and chance for release and then, some need to alter position or change my approach would temporarily dispel that cozy fog and I'd find myself renewing my efforts with a clear, embarrassing awareness of what I was actually doing. I'd clearly see Rosa's curvy cheeks looming on each side of my face as my tongue probed her snug little hole reminding me of exactly where I was. And as I found myself pressing my privates against her stationary feet hoping to get closer to orgasm, I pictured myself as a horny puppy humping someone's leg. It was deliciously demeaning to think of what my desires and role had led me to: a butt-licking, foot-frotting mess of submissive desperation....... and ironically, that in turn led me back to the fuzzy feeling of passion. Back and forth I went like this, and considering the extremely frustrated state I was in, it was just enough to get me where I finally was allowed to go. And boy was that "O" welcome when it finally came!

All in all? One helluva day!