Seven Deadly (to Men) Sins

You’d think in Biblical times it was a very male orientated world where us men were the masters of all we surveyed and the poor ladies were but chattels for our use and abuse. How wrong you are. The 7 sins here will amply demonstrate to even the most diehard feminist that life in the good old days was no fun for us men at all.

  

1. Eating cheeseburgers is a sin!

Surely cheeseburgers weren’t around in the days of the Old Testament? But here it is, written in black and white: Exodus 23:19, “The first of the fruits of thy land thou shalt bring into the house of the LORD thy God. Thou shalt not seethe a kid in his mother's milk.”

So no putting cheese on top of, inside of or even underneath, the meat you sinner.

2. Hot dogs are out too!

Leviticus 11:8, on the subject of pigs, "You shall not eat of their flesh nor touch their carcasses; they are unclean to you."

What? No Walls bangers? The banning of the British sausage (or any other country’s porcine produce) is a sin in itself. I’m a self-confessed sossie lover in case you hadn’t guessed.

 3. An all-time top-ten male fantasy is verboten!

Come on guys, we’ve all seen a mother and her daughter and thought to ourselves, “Mmmmm…. Nice…  The two together… if only…” 

Don’t. It’s a terrible sin as told to us in Leviticus 11:8, “Thou shalt not uncover the nakedness of a woman and her daughter, neither shalt thou take her son's daughter, or her daughter's daughter, to uncover her nakedness; for they are her near kinswomen: it is wickedness.”

4. Leave the slaves alone!

Oh dear, another male fantasy bites the Biblical dust; yes my friends, no hanky-panky with a female slave. Our old friend Leviticus forbids it. 19:20, “If a man sleeps with a female slave who is promised to another man but who has not been ransomed or given her freedom, there must be due punishment. Yet they are not to be put to death, because she had not been freed.”

Darn it, my imaginary sex life feels very deflated right now. Think I’ll go get a haircut  to cheer me up. But wait…

5. Neat beards and pudding-bowl hairstyles are not allowed!

Surely you can’t be serious – and don’t call me Shirley. Tis true I’m afraid. You can guess who made this one up can’t you? Leviticus 19:27, "You shall not round off the side-growth of your heads nor harm the edges of your beard."

Ah, hirsuteness in the head department is required then. I’ll be throwing out my clippers and going for the Catweasel look from now on. At least it won’t cover any tattoos.

6. Tattoos now a no-no! And knife play is a sin too!

This is starting to get ridiculous. Where on earth does the Bible ban tattoos? I’ll give you one guess: Leviticus 19:28, "You shall not make any cuts in your body for the dead nor make any tattoo marks on yourselves: I am the Lord."

What’s a guy to do? I shall put my vast intellect to use in reasoning out the answer but in the meantime there is still one male fantasy left isn’t there?

7. Definitely no lesbian action!

We’ve moved on to the New Testament but life doesn’t get any better. Romans 1:27, “And likewise also the men, leaving the natural use of the woman, burned in their lust one toward another; men with men working that which is unseemly, and receiving in themselves that recompense of their error which was meet.” Which means, in modern English, no rumpy-pumpy or any other sexual girl-on-girl shenanigans allowed.

Something for the weekend?

Four films I guarantee will have you performing a lobotomy on yourself

I’ve seen some terrible movies over the years, so bad you’d want to beat your own brains out with an empty carton of Kia-Ora if only it’d make it stop. So as we’ve a bank holiday weekend (for those of us in the good ol’ UK) you might want to curl up with a loved one or two on the sofa and watch something incredible, something moving, something fun. You plan to? Then avoid these films like a plague of pustules…

Eegah (1962)

Notable only for the presence of Richard Kiel – the metal-toothed baddy from James Bond last seen floating off into space with a pig-tailed putzy – who plays a giant cave man without any discernible dialogue or acting direction.

One night after shopping, Roxy Miller is driving to a party through the California desert when she nearly runs her car into Eegah (Richard Kiel). She tells her boyfriend Tom Nelson, and her father Robert Miller about the giant. Her father, a writer of adventure books, decides to go into the desert to look for the creature and possibly take a photograph of it. When his helicopter ride fails to show up at his designated pickup time, Tom and Roxy go looking for him.

Roxy is soon kidnapped by Eegah and taken back to his cave while Tom searches for her. In Eegah's cave, Roxy is reunited with her father, who tells her that he has begun to communicate with the caveman and has developed a theory as to the creature's astounding longevity. When a frisky Eegah expresses what seems to be romantic interest in Roxy, her father, fearful that the creature may kill them both if he is rebuffed, suggests she put up with as much of it as she can bear. Eegah never tries anything too explicit, though, and Roxy even ends up giving him a shave (behold the infamous “shaving foam licking” scene!) before Tom arrives and helps the Millers escape. Crushed, Eegah follows them back to civilization, and a final confrontation ensues.

Directed, produced, starring and filmed partly in the home of Arch Hall Sr., the film was meant to launch his son, Arch Hall Jr., into movie stardom. It failed dismally. But treat it as the epitome of ‘60s home movies and you’ll appreciate it loads.

The Fifth Element (1997)

In 1914, aliens arrive at an ancient Egyptian temple to collect the only weapon capable of defeating a Great Evil, which appears every 5,000 years. The weapon consists of four stones, representing the four classical elements, and a sarcophagus that contains a Fifth Element in the form of a human, which combines the power of the other four elements into a "Divine Light" that can defeat the evil. The aliens promise their contact, a priest, that they will return with the Elements in time to stop the Great Evil, which will occur in three centuries.

350-odd years later, the Great Evil appears in space in the form of a giant ball of black fire and destroys an attacking Earth battleship. The current alien contact, priest Vito Cornelius, informs President Lindberg of the history of the Great Evil and the weapon that can stop it. As the aliens return to Earth, they are ambushed by another alien race hired by the industrialist Jean-Baptiste Emanuel Zorg, who was instructed by the Great Evil to acquire the stones.

Somewhere Bruce Willis appears as a futuristic taxi driver who used to be some kind of special forces all-action hero. Allegedly.

Having suffered through the film several times, re-reading the above still sounds new to me. Maybe I was too bemused at the time by the weird character names (Korbern, Leeloo, Ruby Rhod to name a few); I’m guessing the writer had his tongue so far into his cheek it was in danger of poking out of his ear.

How can anyone cast the sexy Milla Jovovich into a sci-fi battle of good versus evil extravaganza and come out with “Panto Dames in Space”?

Jack and Jill (2011)

Why oh why did they subject Al Pacino to this drivel? Throughout the entire film you can see the inner war between his acting ability and a script which I can only assume a 3 year old scribbled all over in green crayon before puking up on every page.

If you can stand that then surely the screechy hysterically tinged voice of “Jill”, played by Adam Sandler deliberately badly as a cross-dresser who gives others of that ilk a bad name, will have you burying your head in the cushions and wailing, “My ears, oh my ears!”

The film opens with homemade videos of fraternal twins Jack and Jill growing up. As the videos progress, it seems that Jack is the more gifted twin, with Jill constantly trying to get his attention by hitting him, hurting girls around him, etc. The story shifts to the present, where an adult Jack is a successful advertising executive in Los Angeles with a beautiful wife, Erin, and two kids, Sofie and Gary, while Jill never left the working-class neighbourhood they grew up in and continued to live with their mother until she passed away about a year before the events of the film (and can you blame her?).

Jack's agency client, meanwhile, wants him to somehow get actor Al Pacino to appear in a Dunkin' Donuts commercial. Jack isn't sure how he's supposed to make that happen. Jill tries online dating, but doesn't get much of a response until Jack poses as Jill (oh how funny. Not.) and alters her profile, leading to more than 100 responses. When her date, "Funbucket", meets her, however, he hides in the restaurant bathroom.

Feeling guilty, Jack takes her to a Lakers game where Pacino is supposed to be. Pacino pays little attention to Jack, but, amazingly, develops a crush on Jill. Jack is hoping Jill would leave by New Year's Eve, since the family is going on a cruise. Friends throw him a birthday party and extend it to Jill as well, having never known that he even had a sister (can you blame him for keeping mum?). Pacino invites Jill to his home but she resists his advances and abruptly leaves.

A proposition is made by Pacino that he will do the commercial if Jack gets him a date with Jill. Jack disguises himself as Jill and goes on the date in her place. Jill starts to suspect that the only reason Jack invited her on the cruise is to persuade Pacino to do the Dunkin' Donuts commercial. When she phones Jack he answers as Jill, and then she hears Pacino, confirming her suspicions… I’m sorry, I can’t continue with the synopsis as a non-entertainment induced coma has been induced.

In the Golden Raspberry Awards “Jack and Jill” was nominated for every single category, and twice for Supporting Actor and Supporting Actress, winning all 10 awards.

Sharknado (2013)

What do you get when you mix sharks with a tornado? Some of the worst made for TV movie-making in history.

A freak hurricane hits Los Angeles causing man-eating sharks to be scooped up in water spouts and flooding the city with shark-infested seawater. Surfer and bar-owner Fin sets out with his friends, Baz and Nova , to rescue his estranged wife, April, and teenage daughter, Claudia (from what I remember it was obvious Fin had no idea where the fuck they were). While the gang is in Finn's jeep, the Emergency Alert System appears, announcing a tornado warning. He succeeds but in finding them but April's boyfriend is eaten by the sharks. The group meets up with Matt, the adult son of Fin and April (are you with me so far?), who is in flying school. They decide to try to stop the threat of the incoming "sharknadoes" by tossing bombs into them from a helicopter!

As Nova prepares to throw one of the bombs, she falls out of the helicopter and directly into a shark's mouth. Matt is heartbroken. Baz is also lost in the storm. After Matt lands on the ground, a flying shark plummets toward the remaining members of the group. Fin jumps into its mouth with a chainsaw and cuts his way out. He emerges carrying an unconscious but miraculously unharmed Nova. Matt is reunited with Nova and Fin gets back together with April…. Awwww.

Rubber sharks “eating” their way through metal, the same stock footage of real sharks repeated again and again, sharks which in one scene are 5 feet long are 20 in the next… If that’s your idea of a good film then download it now or, even better, wait for the sequel “Sharknado 2: The Second One” (catchy title huh?) set to premiere later this year.

Thanks to Wikipedia for allowing me to steal the movie synopsises (synopsii?) and insert sarcastic comments into them.

Reading MUNCH

Courtesy of http://www.readingmunch.org.uk/

1: Where does the word munch come from?

The very first one, called a "Burger munch" because it was held at a burger place, was arranged by STella in Palo Alto, California in 1992. The idea was for people who read alt.sex.bondage (the precursor to soc.subculture.bondage-bdsm) to get together in person to meet one another, eat and chat. Now it is shortened to munch, a cross between a meet and lunch.

2: What is a munch?

A munch is a get together of like minded people in a non threatening environment. It is usually held in a pub, cafe or bar. You can come and go as you like within the times posted.

Submission - poem

The draw is stronger than alcohol,

Stronger than the next fix,

Stronger than that of the last drag.

It is more than just a phase,

More than a fad,

It's not something you grow out of.

Humbled and Proud.

It is not often that I am moved, or even feel humble - It is not often that the work I do is appreciated. Nor it is often when a sub shows thanks or acknowledgment. Occasionally I will receive a gift - this is NOT as some subs think PAYMENT or as some may say "Mistresses are greedy, money grabbers - always wanting".  The purpose of giving gifts is to bring joy to both the giver and receiver.

A gift bestowed upon a Mistress is not a mere act of payment - When you are planning to give a gift to someone, you usually start thinking about it ahead of time. What would this person really want? Then, of course, you start searching for it and saving for it.

Bestowing a gift upon a Mistress is about a moment of pleasure, a slice of be happy, a piece of you are special. It is part of what it means to be human. In virtually every culture, gifts are a crucial part of the essential process of creating and maintaining relationships.

Occasionally I will receive a gift, and sometimes I will receive a gift worth more than its weight, cost the sender nothing but gained My respect and adoration. Gifts do not need to expensive, they need to be thought out and personal.  Below is the email I received from Slave Ash, which is a gift he has sent me...The biggest gift any one can receive - A simple THANK YOU.

Dear Mistress,

I hope you are keeping well.

 It has been a long time since I mailed you. In the past 5 months since I left UK, I there has not been a single day when I don't remember our sessions together. You, dear goddess, in the short time I interacted with you, opened my eyes to a whole new world. At times I felt like you had a direct connection to my mind and thoughts. something which I want to experience again.

 However, all good things have to come to an end. My parents have started to put pressure on me to "settle down". I don't think my family and parents will ever understand this craving I have to be subservient to a strong dominant. Some things even the people we are closest to will never understand. To hide this aspect of my life, I am ashamed to say, I had to get rid of every piece of female clothing and shoes before going home, lest they find it and my secret come out.  I beg your forgiveness for this. My parents happiness, was all I was hoping for. I hope the bag of clothes will help someone else in need, since I had kept it out for charity collection.

 I was hoping to be back in the UK by the year end. However, because of the proposed immigration fee and tighter laws, my company has stopped all transfers to UK  in the near future. I have been keeping track your blog posts. ( I hope you dont consider it to be stalking) I was saddened by some of the recent ones. In my humble opinion, anyone who disrespects you or your precious time should be kicked down the stairs of your dungeon. (I hope you dont consider me as one of those)

 I do hope we can still stay in touch, even though I know not when we shall be to meet.

 Yours Humbly

slaveash

His for the Taking

WRITTEN BY TAWNY TRICKSTER

All Europe was abuzz with talk of war as Christmas 1914 approached. The young master had gone to London to join a cavalry regiment, convinced it would be an adventure. Melanie had a secret crush on the young master but as a housemaid the chance of him even noticing her were slim, no matter how often she fluttered her eyelids and flashed a glorious smile in his direction.

She was thinking about the young master this morning, how dashing he'd look in his new uniform, imagining him sweeping through the wide front door, stamping snow from his shining boots, before coming for her... Lost in a daydream Melanie's arms reached out and knocked the crystal decanter over on the dining table she was supposed to be cleaning.

The crash was loud and immediately brought her to her senses. Unfortunately it also brought several of the other servants to investigate, and the master of the house. Melanie didn't see the onlookers as she was kneeling down attempting to pick up all the pieces. Suddenly she was hoisted bodily up from the floor and shaken. The master's hand was wrapped within the fabric of her dress and his strength was holding her aloft.

"How dare you!" he snarled at her, his face close to hers, "You will be severely punished for this!" He dragged her through the house, her feet barely touching the ground; the fabric of her dress was stretched very tightly across her breasts as the master continued to bunch it in his fist. He took her to the cellar door and thrust her inside. The cold from below wafted up the wooden stairs. He pushed her down into the dark.

As her feet touched the bare earthen floor the immediate shock wore off. She felt like she'd not taken a breath for hours, she gulped in the cold air, her chest heaving. The master had followed her and was lighting one of the oil lamps, it flickered and cast deep shadows across the empty space.

Melanie started to sob with fear. She'd heard stories of the master's punishments whispered amongst the other staff and these came back to her now, filling her imagination with all sorts of nightmarish thoughts. The master grabbed her dress once more, this time ripping it open. He roughly pulled her over to where a rope hung from an overhead beam. "Hands!" he shouted to her but she didn't understand what he meant.

"Your hands girl! Hold out your hands!"

She held her arms out, trembling. He grabbed them in one large hand and whipped the rope around her wrists before she could think. The rope was rough and very uncomfortable, it chaffed against her delicate skin, a dark feeling of terror rose up from the pit of her stomach as, unseen behind her, he pulled the rope lifting her arms high and leaving her standing almost on tip toe.

She started to cry, she couldn't help herself. Here she was, tied up and at the mercy of a man she feared, a man who could be capable of anything. She could see her breasts through the tear in her dress. As if he could read her thoughts he suddenly ripped the dress off her upper body, leaving her open and exposed. He stood there, looking at her, assessing the beautiful form he'd revealed, looking for flaws and finding none. A new look came into his eyes, one that Melanie disliked even more and hated herself for both recognising it and the tiny feeling of excitement that shivered through her body.

"You've been very naughty Melanie," he said, moving closer, "Very naughty. And I can't let that sort of behaviour go unpunished."

She shook her head gently in mute appeal. The master reached around her and undid the clasp in her hair; it tumbled down her back, its glorious colour shining in the lamp light. "Better, much better" he said.

The rope around her wrists was really hurting now, Melanie felt faint from the pain. "Please...?" she asked nervously, "Don't hurt me."

The master acted as if he hadn't heard her. He continued to admire the feast before his eyes, striding around her. He was now behind her. His rough hands grabbed the remains of her dress and pulled it down, revealing the rest of her body, her flawlessly smooth skin glowed in the lamp light, driving the master to new heights of lust.

She felt his hands on her behind, parting her cheeks; a finger ran down between them and continued between her thighs. She couldn't control the involuntary shiver. Whack!

"Stay still girl!" he roared as his hand smacked her hard again. "You will do what you're told and take your punishment!"

He continued to spank her, his hands hard against her soft flesh, each blow stinging and making her tense herself up ready for the next, the smarting pain sending shockwaves through her. Eventually he slowed down, she could no longer feel each individual blow, they merged into her heartbeat and pumped through her body like a bell tolling. A new sensation struck her, the master was now caressing the red flesh, kissing each glowing orb where only moments before he'd inflicted terrible pain on her. His lips felt so sweet upon her. Again she felt that finger run down and down and between her thighs, this time there was no shiver, she welcomed it, she was eager for whatever he wanted to do next to her. The finger reached further and started to caress her, gently rubbing her, a fingernail flicked her clitoris and she gasped.

"You like that? he said, "You'd like more?"

She nodded eagerly, whimpered to him, "Oh yes please master!"

He was pressed up tightly against her now; the pressure of him against her behind woke tiny slivers of pain on top of the receding waves. That questing hand reached further, started to slide inside her. She was wet and the feel of first one finger and then another in there made her gasp, he'd started a fire and was fanning the flames, she felt so incredibly hot. As those fingers explored deeper and deeper, rubbing and flicking and caressing, he laid a sharp slap on her left cheek. It was like an explosion inside her, she didn't know which way to thrust, her whole body felt like it was melting in the fire he'd created deep inside her, she squirmed against him, against the rope, against the pressure building up inside her. His fingers thrust into her now, his arm rubbed between her thighs, his other hand continued to rain blows upon her pertness as she felt something growing outward ready to engulf her, to swallow her up in an ecstasy of pleasure and pain.

When the explosion hit she cried out, she was stretched out on a warm sea with a desert sun beating down, alternately burning and being washed by waves of pure pleasure. As the feelings subsided slowly and she once more became aware of the rope and her position the master was in front of her, kissing her sweetly and embracing her, his strong arms enfolded around her naked beauty and making her feel safe. He untied the rope and she attempted to cover herself with the remains of her dress. Suddenly the thought of the young master crossed her mind but it had virtually no effect. He was only a boy but the master was a man and today, she was all woman and all his for the taking.

If a woman was a cake

Gentlemen, come hither and allow me to explain a simple but very important point to you: unlike men, women do all their thinking with their brains. It’s a simple concept but one utterly alien to the vast majority of the male gender. Guys, knowing, remembering and using this fact will enable you to communicate much more successfully with the opposite sex. You need to engage their minds first and, maybe, their body will follow. Their minds are where it’s all happening.

I’m going to illustrate how this works with a simple analogy: women as cakes.

Chaps, what do you see when you see a cake in front of you? Do you immediately focus on the shiny, red cherry standing proudly upon the top while ignoring the rest? I expect you do. After all that cherry calls to where you do most of your thinking... It says eat me, right now. Do you not notice the bone china plate it rests on, the fondant icing so carefully applied and sculpted, the size and shape of the cake itself? No you did not. Go stand in the corner.

That cake is a whole world; from the way it’s presented, how much time and effort went into making it, the details of the recipe, the skill of the maker, the ingredients used in perfect proportions, the time it spent in the oven, cooking until it was just right and ready… The list goes on and on and all this before you even take a bite!

Introducing......TawnyTrickster GUEST WRITER

Currently not active, not looking, not interested, not here.

I do not do cam or Skype, there's a limit to how much the Internet can take.

I will not send you my used underwear, unless you're planning on sending it back freshly laundered.

Don't send me unsolicited messages containing your sexual fantasies. I've already got plenty of my own thanks.

I will not drop my trousers or be your Dom just because you ask. I'm not just a piece of meat, I'm a man, with feelings, respect them.

Some people get confused when they try to shoehorn a situation into reality and it doesn't fit. I bend reality to fit the situation. Although this does lead to a vast reduction in confusion it causes huge ripples in the space-time continuum. The upshot is I probably don't exist, at least most of the time. For example as you're reading this I'm a figment of your imagination and as such won't be able to interact with you in any way. How do you feel about that?

Introducing Guest Blogger: Goddess Natasha

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Lady Trinity: Last night I had the strangest dream...

Lady Trinity: Last night I had the strangest dream...:

'via Blog this'

Mistress - A poem

Mistress

Can I find the way

to the Mistress of my dreams

in this strange, dark land

where the horror waits

to scour the depths of my soul,

leaving me in tears

where did this come from,

that I must hide in the shadows,

trembling like a leaf

adrift in the gales

inconsiderate of fate,

suddenly cast down

to await the hand

of Sha Sha who gives sweet pain,

binds me to every heart

sudden subtle words

that send shivers down my spine

of pure ecstasy

because I am Hers,

I wish to give all my soul,

put it in Her Hands

LED every caress me

with such strength and dominance

I will cry out that

to be forgiven of

all those forbidden desires

that lie in my heart

She will take each one,

When she, in Her great wisdom,

guides me to any love.

tiffani pontchartrain

August 7, 2005

A poem: I find pleasure, joy, and fulfilment from being submissive

I find pleasure, joy, and fulfilment from being submissive

to my Mistress in a loving relationship.

I am not weak or stupid. I am a strong woman,

with firm views and a clear concept of what I want out of my life.

I do not serve out of shame or weakness, but out of pride and strength.

I will look to my loving Mistress for guidance and protection, for never

will I be more complete than when She is with me.

I know that She will protect my body, my mind, and my soul

with Her strength and wisdom.

She is everything to me, as I am everything to Her.

Her touch awakens me and Her thoughts free me.

Only in serving Her do I find complete freedom and joy…

Her punishments may be harsh, but I accept them thankfully,

knowing that She has my best interests always foremost in Her mind.

If She desires my body for pleasure, I shall joyfully give it to Her

and take pleasure myself from knowing that I have brought Her happiness.

However, the pleasure of the flesh is but one facet of O/our relationship.

The love, the trust and sharing, the words spoken and felt,

those are all parts of this relationship.

My body is Her, and if She says I am beautiful, then I am.

No matter what I look like to others, I am beautiful in Her eyes,

and because of that I hold my head high.

If She says I am Her precious jewel,

then I am that…a beautiful, sparkling gem.

If She says that I am Her pet, Her slut, Her whore, then I am that..

as wanton and dirty as She wants me to be.

My mind is Her, to expand, to explore, to know only as She can.

I have no secrets from Her… for secrets are a thing that would

keep me from being more perfectly Her.

Secrets would put a wall up between my Mistress and myself…

and I do not want walls.

Her lessons are not always ones I would seek on my own,

but they are lessons She has decided that I need, and so I learn from Her.

My soul is Her, as bare to Her touch as ever my skin could be

when I kneel naked at Her feet.

Never a moment goes by when I do not feel Her presence,

be She miles away or standing over me.

If I were to ever displease Her, Her displeasure would be a blow to my soul,

worse punishment than any lashes could be.

The anguish of my soul that I feel when I disappoint Her

is harder to bear than any physical anguish I feel.

I am grateful that She cares enough about me to spend

Her time and energy so freely on me.

I have the easier job, to feel, to experience,

to let myself go and abandon everything to Her.

I am Her pleasure and Her responsibility, and She takes both seriously .

I am a submissive woman.

I am proud to call myself that, my submission is a gift that I do not give lightly,

and can only be given to the One who can appreciate that gift and return it tenfold.

Only to my Mistress who has that strength, will I give myself fully,

because I am strong and proud.

I am a submissive man.

~Author Unknown