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dovie -> RE: Where have all the good Doms gone? (5/24/2010 10:12:04 PM)
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quote:
ORIGINAL: lucylucy
They are out there.
So are aliens..LOL
Something I wrote on another forum about this topic:
Disclaimer: Because we all know that there’s always that one person. Remember in high school or college? They were the ones that everyone groaned at when they raised their hand. So, here goes…The use of the word “Rapture” is intended to mean a “full gathering up” as Christian theology uses it to describe the end gathering up to heaven. However, I am not relating it to Christian theology, but to the description of the type of gathering.
I will not engage in a conversation about the use of the word, etc. I will leave that to folks much better versed in the English language. Maybe the folks at “People for the ethical use of Pronouns” I want to be like them when I grow up. They are awesome grammarians!
FYI: rap·ture
play_w2("R0046600")
(r p ch r)
n.
1. The state of being transported by a lofty emotion; ecstasy.
2. An expression of ecstatic feeling. Often used in the plural.
3. The transporting of a person from one place to another, especially to heaven.
tr.v. rap·tured, rap·tur·ing, rap·tures
To enrapture.
[Obsolete French, abduction, carrying off, from rapt, carried away, from Old French rat, from Latin raptus; see rapt.]
Now onto the story…
“Where have all the Master’s gone, long time passing? Where have all the Masters gone, long time ago?” Where have all the Master’s gone? Slave fairies have picked them everyone. Oh when will they ever learn, oh when will they ever learn?”
Tongue in cheek this post is, for I have found the answer to where all the Masters have gone. You may not have read about it, seen it on T.V. or heard it on the radio, but there was a “Master Rapture” last spring. Thousands and thousands of Masters, mid-whipping, mid-flogging, mid-hot waxing, and mid-caning, were caught up. Taken they were by little slave fairies in little leather slave outfits. Each of these Masters disappeared leaving their poor slaves twitching and waiting for the fall of the flogger, the drip of hot wax, and the sting of the cane. Masters without slaves were folded into their toy bags and whisked away by little winged slave fairies at each handle.
Slaves were left here searching and searching, but to no avail. They wrote missives on slavery, drummed up the ancient art of begging, took copious amounts of chromium picolinate, CQ-10, and calcium, all to ease the kneeling process. They studied formal dining, the proper way to serve, the protocols of old, how to be a flybaby; zipping here and there cleaning a Master’s house thoroughly.
It wasn’t a Master Flu that befell us. It was the “Master Rapture.” And so with slave bag in hand, thousand of slaves wander to the farthest regions of the world, searching for the elusive “Master.” The books tell of their existence. There are stories told around dungeons, munches and play parties. A few Masters were left on Earth to titillate and tease the Masterless slaves, taunting them daily, wetting their appetites, making tears on their pillows.
And so a movement is afoot. Slaves are gathering to beseech the slave fairies to send the Masters back. We are talking to each other, learning from each other, supporting each other and taking care of each other. The slave fairies take pity on us from time to time and send a Master back to some deserving slave. When this happens, we look upon her with awe and reverence, secretly wondering what she has done to obtain such favor. We watch her, hoping to emulate her in hopes that one day, sometime soon, the slave fairies will look upon us with the same favor.
The “Master Rapture,” swooped down upon us without warning, stealth like even. …Yep! That’s what happened. That’s the wicket, and the story, and I’m sticking to it. LOLOLOL. Going to find a slave fairy super soaker, cause I’m mad at themzzzzz.
Little b******. Harumph!
Regards,
Olivia (quazy, quirky, eccentric even, slave girl) aka dovie
woot
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