ALT UPDATES, Input, Feedback, Comings & Goings!
|
Posted:Mar 24, 2009 4:39 pm
Last Updated:Mar 25, 2009 10:56 am 51732 Views
|
OK!
I've learned quite a bit I my research in dealing with site issues.
A few overview points first:
A GREAT DEAL of what happens on this site is automated. "Persecution" "Censorship" and "Banning" are words lots of people find sexy. For better or for worse, MUCH of the filtering and deleting and blocking that happens here is done by 'bot and then (possibly) checked manually.
No shadowy cartel of censors is sitting there deliberately killing YOUR blog or Advice Line posts because they don't like the content.
The "Report for Abuse" feature is a many splendored thing. I cannot go in to detail, but with regard to "Cliques" of people having "more control," see above.
"Bugs" vs. "Features Impacting Revenue."
If you can't renew your membership because the credit card system is broken that is a priority, and a top-shelf bug
If you can't read the text on your "Member Search" page because, for reasons known only to God, it is now &^%$# maroon, that is NOT seen as having financial impact and will probably wait for inclusion in another code fix.
I am not the biggest fan of this, but there you have it.
The best I can do is to suggest things to piggyback on other changes that DO impact revenue. Get some Pork-Barrel fixes in, if you get my meaning.
Some stuff HAS been addressed. I have read all of the suggestions. Lots of them are legitimate gripes which, frankly, aren't necessarily going to be addressed anytime soon.
But they are trickling through.
Advice Lines:
There has been a substantial diminution in disruptive behavior. The handful of aliases, operated by a handful of members who were responsible for the vast majority of the off-topic posts are addressed far more quickly.
The "Most Respected Responder" list is no more.
Further adjustments to the voting system are in the pipeline. The hope is to make voting on the posted QUESTION optional. The poster would opt-in to have the query open for voting. Voting on responses is up on the chopping block. There is some code-fu that may make having one and not the other an impossibility.
Premium Features:
Thanks to the initial flurry of complaints, the automatic "Notification when an email is sent" point-vampire feature is dead. Yay!
And yes, the "Renewal Date" feature is buried. No one seems to want to change that. I strongly suggest you carefully make your selections and never leave default settings.
Customer Service.
Yeah. I wish I had some awesome news there.
Online Status.
Some of this is bug-driven. If you notice a pattern (i.e. it happens mostly when you first log in, if you see anything weird about YOUR status, etc) please advise.
Blog Issues.
Back when I first posted on site issues, there was a server turnover in process. That is now complete and I haven't seen much bugginess in terms of the blogs of late. If you are STILL seeing weirdness, please post on that.
Backing up blogs: I believe right now, RSS only allows you to see a limited range of posts. I am not sure if there is an internal issue blocking this, or if this is something that our system, such as it is, cannot handle.
Paid Members Ads
Still trying to see if we can have the adverts removed from the sight of Premium members. I know in the mists of time it was the case, but I imagine premium members must be clicking on the bloody things; otherwise there wouldn't be so much pushback.
Chat Rooms
People seem to want moderators. HOWEVER! Moderating the moderators and proving that this would add value immediately does complicate the issue.
'Tis is a broad stroke overview. And I know there is much that leaves a rather unsatisfied sensation. But hopefully, with this narrow-band approach, I can gather focused feedback and further bolster my case for more of these changes.
Thanks everyone.
~Mollena
|
|
|
2
Comments
|
|
Under 500 Words ~ "Aftercare"
|
Posted:Mar 23, 2009 9:33 pm
Last Updated:May 24, 2024 5:45 am 46421 Views
|
This is one in a series of posts I have on my outside workd blog (mollena*c0m) in which I tell of sexytime in less than 500 wordz.
The line between consciousness and sleep blurs to a haze of breathing and soft contact and the tug of a hand on heated skin. There are moments you want to last because you can’t imagine anything better than what you are feeling right now; the slow twist of a sheet wrapped perfectly around your foot, toes in a cool spot, and the pillow that somehow has achieved the precise position that permits you to press your body even more firmly into the warm body curled behind you. The soles of your feet on the tips of their toes calves pressed one against the other legs interlocked thighs parted just enough to let one knee insinuate itself and apply delicious teasing pressure to your ass and a hand drifting with languid slowness that would be torturous except that it is the sweetest torture one can know than that is the agony of drinking in every moment as fully as possible…twisting at the waist to press one hand against their sweat slicked skin and when did the room get so warm? Difficult to say and harder to tell if the slickness of your thighs is the result of sweat or something…else…a chin nuzzles into the curve of your shoulder, lips tugging on the crease of your neck pulling as you are taken by surprise with a slow writhing twist of strong fingers that brings the already hungry flesh of your breast to needling attention. The gentleness of the lips gives way to a firm grasp of skin between teeth and the quick gasp of surprised delight provokes a quick rearing back and firmer bite with a barely audible rumble in the chest against which you settle back, feeling the slow spreading warmth in your face and shoulders blushing…are you shy? Even now, as a thick cock makes its presence known against the small of your back and that means only one thing, girl. that you have an obligation, you see, because it would be unforgivably rude to be in the presence of such perfection and not taste it…it was, after all, your fault it reared its gorgeous head and manners, manners before all… making bets with your own body seeing how long you can hold your breath how deep you can take him body shaking as he leans down and whispers “What a good little cocksucker you are…” and groans from his throat pull the beginnings of an orgasm from your cunt and hoping that nothing shifts this moment this twining this closeness for fleeting as it is, it is your now.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
New kinship. New sisterhood.
|
Posted:Mar 21, 2009 5:38 pm
Last Updated:Oct 12, 2016 10:13 am 47979 Views
|
I had occasion Thursday to enjoy a quiet moment in a hotel room high up above the city, idly gazing upon a broad swath of terrain from the cold blue of the Bay to the fog-lapped crests of Twin Peaks.
Meandering thoughts mostly disconnected…some deceptively so…were doing their best to distract me from remaining in the moment.
I was exhausted from the previous night. Thursday was the opening ceremony and show for the International Ms. Leather Contest, and I’d spearheaded a campaign to have my employer represented by sponsoring one of the many “Receptions” that this event offers to attendees. This is a fairly low-bandwidth way to do Community Outreach among the Leatherfolk, and as one of the handful of kinky people at work, I’m in a unique position to cross the streams, so to speak, and have my day-job find its rightful place in the BDSM community.
However, I hadn’t anticipated being physically exhausted and having a voice-over recording that same day. It was going to be a pretty exhausting end to the week, and I was near tears several times on Thursday.
Ain’t nothing like being in the midst of Bloody Abdominal Injustice while having to haul around cases of water and wine and bags of snacks.
Thankfully I had a co-worker (Yaaaay!) who was also volunteering at IMsL, and she was there to keep things going.
Somehow, we did it.
Of course, we had everything set up and ready to go, free schwag primed, and then…no one showed up.
We sat for 10 minutes, 25 minutes.
A few people trickling in mentioned that the opening show was still going, and that many attendees were still there, and that was why the reception wasn’t filling up.
But when it did, boy howdy, did it ever!
Old habits die hard and I snapped into the smile-on-the-face-super-attentive-chatting-and-laughing-party-hostess…make sure the cheese is out and the chips are there and the bottles are open and there is enough wine and cheese and…and…and…
Fret not. We rocked it. Everyone was pleased.
Several people who had joined me for my recent class on “Race Play” were in attendance, and took a moment to tell me that not only did they think the class was important for the community, but that they were personally grateful, to me, for doing it.
Their timing couldn’t have been more critical, because not long before that I’d learned of some less-than-optimal reactions that some people are airing publicly.
People who don’t know me, who haven’t heard what I have to say. Or, in one case, someone who took my words and torqued them into a most damaging and fearsome misrepresentation of my reality.
And then we have the nauseating nadir: people who openly threaten violence if they ever were to walk into a play party and see a race play scene happening.
Pardon me if I take this shit personally.
It is tough enough to find play-partners because I am a shy freak and exceedingly picky, selective and intimidation resistant.
And now, am I supposed to tell a prospective play-partner than he or she may be subject to rude speech, threats of confrontation or even physical assault simply for playing with me?
Really???
Well, it is convenient then that my play partners tend to be really…really big! And trained in martial arts and strapped with stun guns…and with sharp pointy teeth…so there!
Sigh.
Yes, I acknowledge that it may be bluster and bullshit.
But the more I sort through this, the more I wonder what the fuck is up with my fellow perverts.
I wonder what about this not uncommon fantasy it so dangerous it drives people to threaten physical violence.
And I wonder why none of these people actually care to be open, and interact with me.
No, I know why.
It is easier to scream from your perch of fear than it is to try to settle in and confront your own demons on someone else’s terms. Because I think differently than others, and there is a chance you might see me as human, your Comfy Throne of Righteous Indignation now teeters on the edge of reason.
Is it so hard to empathize?
I’ll say it here and loud and clear.
If you hear some crazy bullshit about me, and you aren’t sure whether or not it is accurate, you know who the fucking authority on Mollena is?
OK, aside from God…
Ya, that would be me. I’ve been stuck in here for almost 40 years: I know my way around, and I give frequent tours. Stop and and have a cup and I’ll tell you what is going on, OK?
As I stood behind the improvised bar at the party, I managed (I think) to be welcoming and I smiled and introduced myself to as many people as I could. Many old friends were there, and it was lovely to catch up. Hopefully no one could hear my insides whimpering and feeling clumsydumboutofplacecrampyexhaustednervous and anxious.
At one point I overheard and adjacent conversation in bits and starts. There were several Black woman gazing at me intently, and I overheard “Mo Williams…” and “Yeah, she did the “Race Play Class…” and I tensed up. I couldn’t tell from their expressions what their take on that was.
We were formally introduced and they said that they were sorry to have missed the class, and that they had initially planned on coming to see it, but couldn’t make it. Thing is, they aren’t local. They were planning on coming form Canada to see the class. I confess I was very taken aback and nervous. I had wild fantasies of a squad of Black Domme Avenging Secret Agents sent to take me out for setting back the evolution of our people.
But that wasn’t quite it.
I chatted with them a bit, and as it was a rather loud and busy party, it wasn’t conducive to a more private discussion. But we made a date to chat for a bit the next day.
I hope to talk further, possibly, about working with these folks in terms of BDSM oriented education. They had done their homework and had some really provocative questions for me about my classes, my approach, myself.
Plus, damn, they are so cool!
But something else….it was a new sensation for me. With all due respect to all of my friends of all ethnic and racial backgrounds, something new has happened for me in the past few months. I am experiencing a strong redemption for me in having other Black Women REALLY SEE ME and tell me I am OK. I spent almost an hour re-connecting with a woman of many years acquaintance, and have a new respect for both of our struggles as outsiders among outsiders.
This is another benefit of being openly fucked up. Other people who feel like you, outlier, find you and share their struggles and then you aren’t alone anymore.
But this is new, feeling specifically connected with Black women. Women here in SF, in Arizona, in DC, in Chicago…and it is shocking to me. This is many, many years coming.
Truth?
I have been consistently rejected by many of my “Sisters” for my entire life. Even the gossamer illusory kinship pf BDSM gave me nothing but chimeric rapport. And that heat mirage disappeared, all to often, when the going got weird.
I feared derision, scorn and rejection from other Black women.
That sucks. A lot.
How much of a fucking gift, and a startling one, to now find women who look like me meeting me in the eye and speaking with respect for my humanity.
This is…I don’t know precisely what to say.
I don’t know what it means yet. But it is changing my life.
|
|
|
1
comment
|
|
A Blog Post Wherein Mollena Recalls that Indeed, She IS a Pervert.
|
Posted:Mar 17, 2009 11:41 pm
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2009 12:34 am 49014 Views
|
Trusting myself enables me to do truly miraculous things…like trust others.
Trusting others enables us to do truly miraculous things, like make pain transcendent and find new ways to access our souls.
In addition to this past weekend being my second anniversary of being sober (whee!) I was in Chicago to talk about a play-style that many people consider to be pretty edgy, and one I am always walking into with part of my heart quailing apprehensively and shaking with fear.
But now, several days later, I think I feel safe in saying: “WIN.”
I’ve done the “Race Play” class a few times now, and even though I am nervous to sickness each and every fucking time I do it, the overwhelmingly positive feedback helps me to see this IS a valuable class for folks.
The GD2 crowd was comprised on a lot of new kinksters, as their outreach mission includes free (!!!!!!) classes with national presenters and so the place brings in people from all over to teach and present.
It was a FULL house, which was awesome. They said it was one of the more well-attended classes they’d hosted.
I initially wasn’t going to do a demo, but it seems the universe has smiled on me of late in that arena. Seems like my Homeboy, Ganesha, has been fucking up many, many obstacles on my behalf…even the ones I put in my own way.
Last I did the Race Play class, Minax was with me in the mix for The Exiles edition, and to all reports she survived it
Since I was gonna be traveling I wasn’t planning on doing a demo in Chicago but a new “Con-Acquaintance” friend of mine mentioned he was gonna be coming in to town for my GD2 class and would be happy to help if such help was needed.
OK, well…um…sure.
[More like "OMFG are you kidding??? HELLZ YEAH!!" but we wouldn't want to overfeed his ego, would we?]
Though I haven’t spent much time with Graydancer, I thought him cool and I had one of those gut level things happen.
Non-crunchy people, avert your eyes…
You know you meet someone and just feel “OK, yeah, this is one of the Soul Family People, and it is great to have you come around again!” This was one of those. I meet hundreds of people a year and have feelings like that, of immediacy and comfort and such VERY rarely. I try to trust that feeling. It hasn’t yet been wrong.
OK, non-crunchy types, you can pick up here again.
So I said “OK, why not!
Mind, I’d only seen him do ropework, and hadn’t played with him before.
But for several reasons, I felt absolutely fine about saying yes.
I scraped together the gumption to send him some of the extra-flowery un-PC bodice ripping period pr0n I’d started writing for The Limey Who Shall Not Be Named back in the day.
Of course I was then all “Shit…he’s gonna hate it and be all “Ugh what is this corny ass shit?!” and then not want anything to do with me at all.”
But that didn’t happen either, so that was a relief.
The class went really really well.
It was one of those deals where I felt very much in touch with the people there, even the ones who were somewhat guarded. And even though the room was hot as FUCK and I was sweating with nerves and not at all sure what was going to happen, I took a deep breath and forged ahead.
If the class was good, the demo was fucking AWESOME.
Well, for me, anyway.
Seriously.
I’d had little clue that I was dealing with someone who was highly adept in role-laying but duh, shoulda known. He is a performer and an instructor, so there is gonna be that advantage.
Plus, he’d totally cheated and was sporting my very favourite style of boots. And he was wearing black leather gloves.
Evidently, this also…uh…works for me.
Who knew?
I honestly couldn’t even LOOK at his feet too long. I’d forgotten about my thing with the boots…how does one forget that objects can become so deeply imbued with their own life that the right person at the right place in the right time can bring that all back again…?
How is it I keep forgetting that I actually really am a pervert?
Gray managed to somehow pull together a scene from the story I’d written and make it work in the context of this demo.
This is revelatory for me on several levels.
I’m still running through this so please, bear with me, I’m kind of scattered in my thinking. But the writing helps me get it out and hell, while I’m pulling apart this humming burning ball of energy, you might as well peek in
I think it was really remarkable to be able to voice this very simple type of fantasy, not worry that other people would find it either “grindingly offensive ” or, worse yet, “too pedestrian and boring.” Let me say this (I know, kind of surprising) but I’d never even DONE a “Old School master / slave plantation thing” because, well, I know it is the obvious fucking thing to do and I have steered clear of it.
But I figure hey, I might as well have one of my fantasies addressed, yes?
And I am glad I did.
Um, so, the scene.
It was fantastic.
I’d inaccurately calibrated this man’s capacity for cold-bloodedness, so it was a bit of a genuine shock that he was SUCH a BASTARD!
Fucking awesome.
SO, yeah.
I think it is pretty much all I have to say about that right now. I might do a straight-up scene report one of these days, we’ll see how generous I’m feeling about that memory.
Yes, we did play later in the evening, and that was also rather phenomenal.
It is wondrous to me that, no matter how many years I do this, there is always something new that will sneak up on you and fuck your shit up so flawlessly, you can’t do anything except ride it.
I also newly re-discovered was something that I’d already had, but suffered the fate of being squashed down and buried for the past few years.
When I am single and feeling lonely MY default of late has been to walk away from those feelings of longing and let them do their own thing. I don’t want to try to suppress them, not anymore. But I do not want to dwell on what I do not have, because that sets me up in a poor place.
But for lots of reasons Gray was able to get in…just enough…to a few unused places and that lead me back to a simple sweet truth: I love “This.”
All the pain and beatings and bondage and all of that was compressed to one moment where I was prostrated with my cheek and lips against the warm instep of one of his boots, the other boot firmly on the back of my neck and his hand in my hair.
There was an absolutely clear moment of connectedness with the memory of the very first time I’d been in a place like that, almost eleven years ago.
And …sorry crunchy people, but it was one of those sacred moments where you get a revelation. it was this: despite all that had happened, that has happened to me in those years, all of the people that have come and gone, all that I thought I would have and all that I never expected, there IS a place where I can feel safe and even if it doesn’t look like anyone else’s safe space and even if it is just for RIGHT NOW, that is all any of us EVER have.
This moment.
So breathe it in.
It was SO. Huge.
I’m getting all crying and snuffly even as I try to write.
I have absolute faith in my ability to feel, to intuit, to trust when it is right to do so. And that is precious.
Um. Yeah.
Well, massive kudos to Gray, because he let me sob like a dork all over his boots for some amount of time. Dunno know long…you know how that goes.
And hands-down one of the most emotionally attentive people with whom I’ve had the honor to play.
Oh, yes, and *Squee*
Furthermore, my absolute embargo on facial hair has been conditionally lifted.
Of course, the next morning, part of my brain is all “OMG OMG yeah, yeah, OK, I know, I know…you’re not poly and LDRs never work and you DO NOT do LDR shit with D/s for chrissake but OMG this may be your last chance to ever and we are scared to be alone again and blah blah blah blah.”
Chittering. This is one of Bubbles’ excellent new voices. She does fear REALLY well.
But you know, something very different happened.
I was glad to feel that affection, and that openness to being submissive, and all those feelings. I didn’t criticise myself for having them, I tacked to the wind for the impact of sub-space and PMS**
And I enjoyed myself. It felt / feels great.
I’m not afraid. If anything, I am SO happy to have had that scene and those feelings because I haven’t had them in so long.
Rather than freaking out at the prospect of being alone, my thought this morning as I sort through e-mail and try to get to work is this:
These moments are a gift, precious precious precious and to try to shuffle my emotions to suit the external surroundings is hubris.
What is real emotionally is real emotionally.
Nothing less, and nothing more.
I CAN feel, even feel very profoundly, and enjoy that fully, and stand on my own feet afterward, and marvel at the magnificence of it.
I know that right now, I have to be present. By remaining present, I’ll be where I am supposed to be.
And this morning I love myself for that.
**Ladies: never, never EVER tell a sadist you are PMSing and that your boobs are sore. The likelihood that they will be compassionate and easier on them because of this is abysmally low. Just don’t mention it and hope for the best
|
|
|
1
comment
|
|
Sex 2.0 Un-Conference, anyone?
|
Posted:Mar 17, 2009 11:34 pm
Last Updated:May 24, 2024 5:45 am 45731 Views
|
I’ll be at the Sex 2.0 Un-Conference in May, and I’ll be hosting a dee-lightful Salon entitled…
Delicious Deviance: On Flying Your Freak Flag.
Perhaps you are a full blown pervert, but shy about exposing yourself online? Or maybe you are a fledgling kinkster, and unsure of how to remain true to your self while bridging the gap between fantasy and realty, taking the online to the flesh?
There are so many vectors and venues available, it can be tricky, and it can be daunting. But have no fear, you aren’t alone!
This discussion will cover the pros and cons of being out, of maintaining a kinky personae online, on the common pitfalls of finding yourself moving from one world to the other, and how one can maintain one’s humor while maintaining your integrity as a feminist and as a pervert.
Join Mollena Williams, BDSM Educator, kinky blogger, and Executive Pervert as she discusses and explores online kink and real-time perversions, and offers tips, suggestions and a few amusing cautionary tales to get your gears turning on how to maintain your humor and your integrity as an individual as you cross from pixels to playtime!
I am stoked that my trip to NYC straddled the date for the SEX 2.0 Un-Conference. SO, I’ll be taking a Chinese Bus from NY down to DC…AGAIN…to talk to some people about being a pervert.
Because I love that shit!
And please, gimmie a shout out if you are attending. It looks like it is going to be the shizz.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
Not gonna tell you just yet....
|
Posted:Mar 15, 2009 11:56 pm
Last Updated:Mar 19, 2009 8:29 am 49442 Views
|
I have many words at my disposal…my odd propensity for occasionally reading dictionaries and my incessant hoovering of information blended with my never-ending quest for the most apt or surreal metaphors and similes rarely leaves me at a loss.
Yet this weekend I found myself at a loss several times.
So, yeah...I was in Chicago to teach the never-at-all-fucking-nerve-wracking class on Race Play, in front of a group comprised almost entirely of strangers.
I was doing the demo with a fellow educator for whom I’d had an oddly complete and instantaneous sense of absolute trustworthiness, yet with whom I’d never before played.
Oh, and just in case that wasn’t fucking insane enough, he’d not delved into this type of play himself.
Yeah, I’ll be fine…just take away that net.
And yes, It was fine.
Sheeit…let me not understate.
It was more than fine.
It was pretty bloody astounding.
And I’m not going to tell you about it just yet.
I’m sitting with my thoughts and my bruises and letting the memory and the sore spots linger all smoky slow like honey and remarkable in their soft-focus razor sharp resonance.
I WILL say this: The people at Galleria Domain II in Chicago rocked my world. Some of you ALTies were there. SO. FUCKING AWESOME to meet you. Seriously, it made me so happy.
Seriously.
People shared some deep ass shit in there, and it is an honor to have the feedback when you are presenting. That dynamic is effulgent.
I’m not sure if it is OK to name the organizers names but I will do so once I haz brainz back and I know it is OK, because they re doing an amazing job there.
If you were in the room Saturday……thank you. You rocked.
If you were at the party late Saturday……your energy was amazing.
If you got into my head, made me laugh and made me cry and brought me to a speechless breathless place then held me as I slept through the night……you are a gift, a blessing, and I hope to soon be able to put words to the song you reminded me to sing to myself. You fucking rock! 
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
Two Years, New Life. Sobriety and Gratitude.
|
Posted:Mar 14, 2009 12:17 am
Last Updated:Mar 15, 2009 11:56 pm 54978 Views
|
Today I am two years sober.
Today I am able to focus on how beautiful life is.
It is an honor and a gift to feel emotions purely, and to take pride in living rather than false comfort in oblivion.
Today, I'm pretty impressed with myself.
Thank you, friends, for your love and help.
And thank you foes, for giving me the strength to laugh.
|
|
|
5
Comments
|
|
Hello, my name is Mollena and, according to some of you, I am "Sick."
|
Posted:Mar 13, 2009 1:27 pm
Last Updated:Mar 14, 2009 9:18 am 52081 Views
|
I'm in an airport, laying over in PDX on my way to ORD.
I'm on my way to teach a class about a type of play that many people find repulsive, disturbing, horriffic, indicative of psychological damage and self-hatred, and one that shouldn't ever happen.
But I teach this class PRECISELY BECAUSE it is so problematic.
I've been on the wrong side of vitriolic attacks, and still I live. So I know that they won't kill me.
But I am, perhaps foolishly, always so discouraged when I see kinky people making harsh statements against harmless kinks.
I'm sad when I see a condescending "Protect the newbies!" attitude about Edgy Play.
And I absolutely abhor the use of the word "sick" to describe a desire that does no harm.
And I am reminded that not everyone understands the power of sexual imagination, and makes the wildly erroneous assumption that, for example, wanting to stick a crazily shaped dildo into various orifii puts someone one step away from sheepfucking and in the next cell from a raging pedo.
Now excuse me.
I gotta go to Chicago and have a white guy beat my ass and utilize racially charged language for the sake of our twisted fucking libidos, because, of course, I love non-consesnual slavery and he is a closet racist.
|
|
|
1
comment
|
|
Please...don't do me any favors.
|
Posted:Mar 1, 2009 7:07 pm
Last Updated:Mar 19, 2009 8:35 am 50601 Views
|
I have been exchanging emails with a dominant I had approached with the intent of getting to know him a little better.
I got several brushbacks. He found me “intimidating” somehow…but never elaborated on what that meant.
He doesn’t play casually, because his play partners tend to “fall for him” so rather than risk that, he avoids playing up until mutual levels of interest are met.
Well, OK, whatever works, right?
Then I got the serious emotional bean ball: the suckerpunch of being told I’m “not the type” he is usually attracted to…but my scintillating intellect intrigued him to the point where he considered the chance to get to know me a rare treat. A singular indulgence for his own formidable intellect.
Thanks.
I want nothing more than to be your Scheherazade while you go off being ego-stroked by the hordes of swooning submissives who ARE your type, even if their conversation, realness, intelligence and demeanor are no match for mine.
Srsly?
You wanna admire my wit?
Read my fucking blogs.
You want repartee?
Subscribe to my goddamned Twitter feed.
I need to be lusted after and ravished by a Man Who Wants Nothing More Than To Own Me.
Not a sparkly psychic bauble.
Not your mental whetstone.
My last long-term relationship was with a guy who would stop everything he was doing and fuck my brains out when he saw me naked. He thought my body was absolutely perfect. Oh and hey! He ADDITIONALLY admired my intelligence. Fancy that.
Too bad he was intimidated by my history as a kinkster. It took me 3 years to pass through that relationship.
But that is another story for another day.
I am pleased my turnaround time on weeding out mismatched partners is improving.
Exponentially.
SO, back to the current issue…
After many MANY conversational miscues and missteps that left me feeling a bit battered, I closed my last communication with this prospective date thusly:
I value myself FAR to highly to be shoe-horned among the swooning mass of women with whom you won’t play because they “fall for you.”
I have been around the dungeon enough times to know that someone who is still sleeping with an ex “because they are fluid bonded” is not someone who is fully emotionally and physically and spiritually available.
I am not at all interested in waiting and hoping for the day you have the gumption and /or desire to let go of your ex and move on.
I will not compete with other women for your time.
I am free, unencumbered, emotionally available and have the ovaries to live alone and walk alone until someone who wants me as I am, and who appreciates all that I am comes along.
I am certainly not going to cobble together a scant meal from the crumbs and leavings of someone else’s table.
That is what you are offering me right now.
I wish I felt as strong as those words sound…because right now I feel lonely.
But I don’t feel lonely enough to fucking queue up for a man-raffle.
|
|
|
5
Comments
|
|
