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Griswold -> RE: The BDSM lifestyle is just a pile of bullshit.. (6/29/2008 5:56:46 PM)
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quote:
ORIGINAL: stella41b
Get your hands ready.. How many of you out there - hands up please - have come into this section, and coming into this section you come across a title of a thread which makes you groan? You sit there thinking 'Oh no, not again..' Then, and I guess some more hands up here, you click on the title of a thread, and you're working your way down, and you reach somewhere like the 15th or 17th posting on a thread and you think 'This person is talking out of their ass.'
This is not to mention what goes on on the other side. Yet many here claim that they are 'into' the 'lifestyle'. Really? Online too? So what are you doing? Running an agony aunt or uncle service? Collecting West African penfriends? You have a new hobby trying to decipher what dysfunctional illiterates are trying to communicate with you?
But I won't go further into what happens here online, because we are advised to 'go out into the community' to 'get to know the lifestyle'. Meet people. Meet people out there in real time. Out there in the real world.
Let's see how many of you are really into the BDSM lifestyle, and I mean REALLY into the lifestyle. Hands ready?
Okay, so now we're real time. Female submissives, this one's for you. How many of you really enjoy having some Dom's rough, grimy hands all over your beautifully scented, apricot scrubbed 'Body Shopped' to perfection skin? Do you really enjoy that drunken cock shoved unceremoniously up your ass at 2.30am in the morning, after returning from the latest kinky club or play party with him still trying to 'cum' three hours later? How many of you have met the domly Dom who's kneading the backs of your thighs with his knobbly knees and constantly pleading 'Almost there..'? You're sore, he's fallen asleep, and so once he's started snoring you sneak out of bed to finish yourself off in the bathroom, looking down on his pissed carcass and wondering how the hell you managed to get yourself into bed next to someone like that?
How many lonely dates have you spent in bars? Clubs? Cafes? MacDonalds? You've been there almost half an hour and you decide that they're not really going to turn up. You dial her or his number in your cellphone, it rings, and you get 'Hi this is [insert name] I'm not by the phone right now....'? Fulfilling?
Welcome to the BDSM 'lifestyle' - old codgers sticking their todgers up young assholes.. Young subless Doms trying every trick in their rather spartan toolbox of ideas hooking, landing and fucking anything remotely female.
How many times have you shoved a mask over her face? Blindfolded her?
Just so you don't have to look at her.. besides, she's got tits on her like a Freisian cow. I'm actually married anyway with a woman of flawless beauty and grace who can never be sullied by the arcane lusting of the captive mind. I shall find other women to abuse. I don't care of they're as ugly as a boxer licking piss off a dock leaf. I don't care if they're covered in tattoos and look as if they've been a butch queen in the local women's jail right up until the previous morning, anything to get my rocks off.... oh pleeaaassseee!!!
Young wet behind the ears and cheesy under the foreskin men, dweaming of some overweight middle-aged woman with various health and mental issues to spank her ass and do unmentionable things to them, telling all and sundry they can take everything despite never trying anything and yet they still wonder why they're waiting in the emergency department of the city hospital with a testicular accident.
Hard core?
Wait until they tie you down and ream you with the base of the flag pole you silly bugger.
You want to be abused?
So okay, enjoy the new fracture to your skull because some ex mental patient turned up by accident at a munch and quickly picked up on the fact that if she calls herself a Domme men will coming running. Just don't forget the change the bandages.
'Let's try an enema, shall we?,' she announces after she's tied you down.
'Yes Mistress,' you say, thinking she's putting music on.
Out pops the bargain hosepipe with the steely bit at the end and wummpphhh!! Up your butthole it goes.
Fighting back tears and in a somewhat more squeaky voice you try to tell her you thought she said Enya or Enigma.
'Don't have any of those..' she says, popping another pill from her meds in her mouth which prevent her from becoming too psychotic. 'How about Red Hot Chilli Peppers?' she offers with a sadistic smile.
'Oh no thanks Mistress. Can I just have a blow job? I mean, erm I really must get going. You see I got college in the morning, I can't miss my lecture, and Mum will be wondering where I am.'
She coughs.
'No you can't have a blow job. In fact you can't have any form of sexual contact. I'm just going to hurt you as much as I've been hurt in my past' she says as she gets out a short blood-stained piece of three by two from her toy bag.
Is this the BDSM 'lifestyle' that you're into? You really enjoy all this? No?
Then what are you doing getting involved with all the nutjobs, idiots, psychos, liars and other loonies who have all bought into this BDSM lifestyle bullshit? Have you gone mad? Taken leave of your senses?
There is no "lifestyle". There's just you, your kinks, your interests, other people, their kinks, their interests, and the real world. It's a bit like cooking, singing, amateur dramatics, you come to sites such as this one to get to know people, you attend munches and local fetish fairs to get to know people. It's just like out in the real world, what some people call the vanilla world - there's good people, there's bad people, and there's other people who aren't sure.
Oh yes there's lectures, seminars, festivals, books, and so on - you see some of you like to be hurt, some of you like to hurt others, some like to tie up others, some like to be tied up, humiliated, and you know, if you really stop and think about it you must admit that you need to know what you're doing and so does the other person. Not only that, it really does need to be someone you know, understand, and you can trust.
But not the 'lifestylers'.. Oh no. They steam right in there, don't listen to advice, believing that they're going to be just fine, and sooner or later - CRASH!! They come a cropper. Then when it doesn't work out they come back to the boards with some sort of drama or crisis. Or they lock themselves away, hardly daring to come out of their homes, suffering angst over whether they're submissives or slaves, or dominant or submissive.
The only lifestyle here is the one you yourself are living. When you do eventually find yourself in a successful relationship with someone who accepts you for you and you accept them for them and you both share combined kinks and interests harmoniously then you also share your own lifestyle.
The BDSM 'lifestyle' is nothing more than your need for validation, social approval, acceptance. There is no BDSM 'lifestyle'. It's bull.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha......
Okay...get ready Stella.....
How many times have you sub males felt like raw meat because you have a credit card?
A beacon....laser lights have shone on you...."look...over THERE!!!! There's someone who can cover our fun for the night@!!!!!!"
How many times have you, a male sub, having done well in life, been the active focal point of the Domme you used to date (because they DO talk amongst themselves you know), and she's telling all her friends "he does very well...snuggle up to him...he'll take care of you"....
(And then they all do).
And then several get drunk (just like those guys you mention)...and the ones who have breathalyzers attached to their steering wheel (unbeknownst to you) all seem to aggregate in your booth...but you don't know that....anymore than some chic might know that the guys she eschews {after knowing the facts} would wonder why they chose her.....
And, you've had a few too many as well....but you choose to be a gentleman....offer to drive her home (sure, you might think you're going to get laid....until she projectile vomits on your stereo...then you're reconsidering all the things your Momma taught you about people from "the other side of the tracks"), and you arrive at her place....she of course makes it clear she wants to fuck you...maybe because she heard you make shitloads of money....maybe because you're a "really nice guy" and she feels like she should....maybe because she's having trouble seeing out the front of her eyeballs, and can't quite make out the current view....which appears to be just slightly left of your front brakes as she drifts between consciousness wondering why your front seat has "GOODYEAR" written all over it (which of course, it doesn't) and if it's really true she voted for a rhododendron in the last election....but it all seems to make sense to her at the moment....
....And then she decides to pull her dress up to show you she's not wearing underwear (which, in the bar, seemed incredibly sexy, but now....at 27 degrees outside, with her losing copious amounts of drool out of the left side of her mouth is now decidedly UNSEXY...in the middle of a section 8 apartment complex parking lot with two really tall buff guys, carrying chains and numchucks about 12 feet away wondering what the FUCK you're doing in THEIR neighborhood....and she's screaming "Gris.....take me home and fuck me.....I love you!!!!!!".
As she vomits again.
Classy.
And then you try to pick her up....but she's made of rubber....and you're thankful you've been working out lately, but nothing you can do will help her get the 350 feet to her front door...because she just doesn't want to be part of this world.....and you think...."maybe these guys can help me carry her in to her place...." and then you realize "that would be really fucking stupid"...and so, again the gentleman....you work out a different plan....knowing full well....you'll still be the asshole down the road (when you never call her again...even though she's given you her phone number 3 separate times...each time with entirely different numbers on it, none of which appear to be written in English)....and then you politely deposit her, respectfully....in her bed.
So Stella....chill....it ain't exactly all golden on any side of the equation....
Occasionally you'll find there's as much swill on each side....as the other.
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