From the other side

This is a guest post written by a trans man who wishes to remain anonymous.  For purposes of discussion, he goes by Omega.

I’ll keep the history short.  We all have different stories, but at the heart of them, they’re all the same.  Our entire lives, we knew something wasn’t right.  We knew something was off.

But I’d learned to live with the Off.  I’d accepted it as part of me.  The bitterness I felt at having the wrong body was the thing I assumed all women felt.  Some hate their thighs, some hate their breasts, some hate their hips or their stomach or their calves or their shoulders.

I hated….

Well, I didn’t really hate it.  Not once I became an adult, anyway.

The woman I was outside was the Off, but she had her uses.  I’d learned how to work with her, how to use her to get what I needed.

And she’s a tough bitch.  She knew how to protect me when I needed it.  She covered me up, she built walls around me to keep out those who would hurt me.

She’s stronger than anyone else I’ve ever met.  And she’s tireless.  A warrior.

Because she’d lived in this world as a woman, and I never really understood what that meant until I set her aside and entered the world as a man.

The things she’s endured, the things she’s dealt with…

There’s honestly no way to comprehend it without living it.

I respect her.  I admire her.  I resent her for existing.  I resent the fact that I needed her for so long.  I resent the fact that I still do.

Because it wasn’t until I was able to pass as a man that I realized just how strong she was.  How strong she was forced to be.

I took advantage of her; I used her.

Because I never knew what it meant to be her.

The truth, the pure and objective truth, is that sexism is alive, and male privilege is depressingly real.

She noticed it before I did.

Because it was subtle at first.  There was so much else going on, I didn’t notice it.  I was too worried about things like going to the public restroom.  But she noticed it.

It devastated me again to realize it.

People speak to me differently than they did to her.  They look at me differently.  They react to me differently.  Cashiers, waiters, car mechanics, the postman, employers, employees, the entire world sees me differently than they saw her.

The amount of respect strangers unthinkingly show me is different than the respect they showed her.  The level of competence people assume I have is different than the level they assume she had.  The way they accommodate me is different than the way they accommodated her.

It’s not everyone, and it’s not every situation, but it’s consistent enough to be a pattern, and the pattern holds true.

I realized how hard she is.  How hard she needed to be.

I realized just how much of the anxiety and dislike of myself wasn’t due to anxiety or depression, but from the way people saw me, the way they treated me.

It’s so unfair, what she had to go through to protect me, the way the entire world shrugged her off as having less worth.  The car mechanics who scoffed at her, the computer and technical repairmen who ignored her, the plumbers and electricians who walked into her home and blatantly disrespected her, the way doctors shrugged her off, the demeaning comments from any man who disagreed with her, the way everyone subconsciously belittled her.

I never even realized it until it suddenly wasn’t there anymore.  I look back on my childhood, on my adolescence, on my young adulthood, and realize that I had been a victim of sexism all my life.

Even she didn’t know the full extent of it.  Not until she saw the difference in the way I’m treated now.

For a long time, I hated her.  I hated her because she wasn’t me, because to me, she represented every lie I had to tell, every secret I had to keep, every part of myself I couldn’t acknowledge.  She was everything about myself I hated.  She was everything about myself that was off.

Now, I realize that she’s the strongest part of me.  Because she had to be.  She had to learn to stand tall when people scoffed at her, when people shrugged her off and dismissed her, when they belittled her, when they told her she was worth less than I am.

She learned how to stand up against those who felt entitled to her body, she learned how to let go and not let their touch haunt her the way it haunted me.  She learned how to protect us from those who saw us as nothing but an object to fuck.  From those who grabbed her on the street, those who sneered at her, who leered at her, who tried to break her.  She learned how to protect us from those who wanted to pull her down and destroy her, from those who wanted to make her less than human.

She learned how to be hard, how to be defiant, how to prove them wrong.  She was everything that was off about me, but she was my protector in a world that hated me not just because I was trans, but because my voice was high and my body was feminine.

And she’s far from the only one.  So many women go through worse than I did.  So many women hurt worse than I did.  I was lucky.  And I’m lucky in that I don’t have to deal with it anymore.

I never truly appreciated the constant battles she had to fight until I didn’t have to fight them anymore.  I never appreciated the strength it took to be her until I saw how much easier it is to be me in our society.

I’ve only been reliably passing as male for a year or so.  I’m still learning who I am outside of her.  And she’s still there to jump to my defense when I need it, because she grew up in a harder world than I live in.

I will always admire the strength it takes to be her, to be every woman.  Even they don’t realize how hard it is to be them, and that makes me angry.

These women have fought these battles every day.

Not against everyone, but against enough.

At least once a day, they are somehow, someway told that they are worth less than men.  But they keep going.  They keep fighting.  They learn how to get past it.

They don’t realize their own strength.  Just as she didn’t realize her own strength.  She didn’t realize what it took to live through a normal life as a woman until she saw how much easier it is to live a normal life as a man.

She resents that.  And so do I.  All the insecurity, all the doubt, all the pain of feeling not good enough, she thought there was something wrong with her.

But no, she was perfect.  She wasn’t me, but she was perfect.  It was society that let her down.  Not any fault or shortcoming of her own.

No man will ever understand the strength it takes to be a woman in a world where women are worth less.  No man will understand the strength it takes to be a woman in a world where no one wants to acknowledge the battles they still fight.

Where people pretend it doesn’t exist.  Where they shrug off a woman, where they brush off her battles.

Women can vote and have bank accounts.  What else could they possibly want?  Why can’t they stop whining?

It repulses me.  It makes me want to turn from the world.

But she’s not heartless.  Because, while I wanted to hate every man for what she went through, while I wanted to sneer at the little trials they thought were just so hard, she was the one who stopped me.

She reminded me that pain is not exclusive to women.  She reminded me of the good men who do fight for women.

She reminded me of the women in my life that I admire.  Women like Domina Jen, who are unbelievably strong, who will never understand the true extent of their own strength, who don’t need anyone to hold them up, but who graciously love and respect the good men in their lives.

But even that a battle in and of itself.

Domina Jen made a mistake once.  She let me see the contents of her email inbox.  And that brought on a whole new wave of bitterness.

Because I will never again have to deal with what she deals with.  The things she considers normal, the threats and the insults that she and everyone around her dismiss, the nonchalance people who love her feel at the way she’s treated, even her own simple, graceful shrug, saying, “That’s just the way it is.”

It infuriated me.  Because it’s not fair.  And who is going to stand up for her?  Who is going to fight for her?  Who is going to let her lean on them the way I could lean on her?

Who could she lean on when the weight of holding me up got to be too much?

No one.

And the internet is only one small facet, one small glimpse of what it’s like to walk through life like this.

A constant and cruel punishment for the unforgivable crime of having a high voice and feminine body.

No man fully understands what paying for that crime feels like, and how deeply it hurts to be met with the dismissive, apathetic attitude so many men exhibit.

Because they don’t want to see it.  They are uncomfortable with being confronted by it.  They are uncomfortable realizing how much harder things like going to the bank or getting your oil changed or running a business are for women.

There’s no rest for these women.  I escaped it, and seeing it from the outside made me realize how bad it really is.  But for the rest, there’s no escape.

I wanted to be angry forever.  I wanted to lose myself in my anger.  And even Domina Jen couldn’t snap me out of it.

But she could.

She was the one who reminded me what it feels like to love a good man.  She was the one to remind me what it feels like to have a good man love me.

She kept me from getting cold.  She kept me from letting the bitterness consume me.

The same way she kept me from letting the bitterness consume me when she had to be my mask.

I know that one day, I won’t need her anymore.  I’ll be able to put her in a little box, close it, and lock it forever.  I’ll be able to leave her behind and move ahead as me.

But that box will always be close to my heart.  Because she saved me, every moment of every day, and she will continue to save me right up until the moment I don’t need her anymore.

It’s isolating, seeing the world from both sides, and it’s why I have gravitated to other trans people.  Because I’m not the only one who sees it.  All trans men see this.

Trans women see the reverse, and my heart hurts for them.  Because they have no way of understanding this world they’re coming in to until they walk into it.

Because transitioning is awful enough, it is anxiety-inducing and depressing enough, without having to come to terms with this new reality.  Having to understand that being true to who they are means that the world will forever see them as less than their mask.

It makes me cynical, but she won’t let me lose all hope.  She stubbornly hangs on, reminding me that giving up never made anything better.

One day, it will be better.  I have faith in good people.  I have faith that good people won’t give up.

I have faith because I know that she isn’t the only fighter around.

An exercise in proper English

Lesson 1

dominant: adjective (that means it describes shit.  For example, “Brown eyes are a dominant trait.”  Or, “I have a dominant personality.”)

Dominant: noun (that means it’s a person, place, or thing.  For example, “I am a Dominant.”  Also describes a specific role within BDSM. For example, “I am a Dominant woman.”)

dominate: verb (something you do. For example, “I dominate men for fun.”)

You are not a “dominate,” goddammit.  Stop saying that.

M’kay?

Cool.  Good talk.

Babies lower libido

Jen,

You mentioned your kid having an impact on your sex life and I was wondering if you could help me with a bit of an issue with me and my wife.

We both identify as switches and our play often encompasses a wide spectrum of different kinds of power dynamics.  Most people don’t get it but we’ve been together almost five years and it’s always worked great for us.

Six months ago we had a baby.  Our first.  And I couldn’t be happier.

But my wife’s sex drive tanked after she had the baby.  It still hasn’t come back even a little bit.  And nothing I do seems to help.  I’ve been taking on more and more of a Dominant role hoping to get interest and it really hasn’t worked.  About half the time she just isn’t interested at all.  The other half she’ll engage but the play is always really short and just sort of bland.

We’re definitely in a rut.  I don’t want to pressure her or anything.  I know she has a lot on her plate but I just don’t know how best to help her.  Any advice you may have would be greatly appreciated.

Thank you in advance.

Oh, dear.

Well, I don’t know your wife, so I can only speak for myself, but you’re not going to like my answer.  Hell, even I don’t like my answer.

And the answer is…..

There ain’t shit you can do but wait it out.

After I had the kid, my libido outright disappeared.  From what I understand of other women’s experiences, that’s relatively normal.

Because think about it.  Take away the physical crap, and the fact that it takes months to feel yourself again physically, but let’s just look at the hormonal stuff.

Because hormones play a pretty big role in libido.

For months, her body was affected by the baby.  And most guys don’t really get just how much the baby affects the mother.  I mean, a lot of people have heard that if the mother is injured or sick, the fetus will send stem cells to the affected area of her body (this is horrendously oversimplified, btw, but that’s the gist of it), but that’s just one thing, and that doesn’t really affect her in the day-to-day.

She’s literally got foreign DNA in her body.  The body, as a general rule, doesn’t like foreign shit in it.  Which is why rejection is such a big deal for organs or implants or literally anything put in it that was not in it when we were born.

Of course we have progesterone to help deal with that, but the higher amounts of hormones in our bodies, coupled with the hormones produced by the fetus, is a big burden.

Over 9 months, those hormones build and fluctuate as needed.  It’s a gradual thing, and it adjusts depending on how far along the pregnancy is and a number of other things.

But then, she has the baby, and it’s the sudden absence of the baby’s hormones, plus the more or less sudden cessation of the production of her hormones, and just as it took months for the hormones to build and help her body normalize while she was pregnant, it’s going to take months for her to adjust now that the baby is born and go back to normal levels.

There’s nothing you, or she, or anyone can do about it.  There does not exist a quick pill she can pop, there does not exist a sex therapist or psychiatrist or whatever who can fix her hormones.

I know what she’s feeling right now.  Pretty much every woman who’s had a kid knows what your wife is feeling now.  It’s not great.

Because we’re not idiots, and neither is your wife.  We know that there’s something off, we know that we have no libido, we know that our partner isn’t happy with what’s going on, and we know that there’s nothing we can do about it.

What sucked sweaty, hairy rhinoceros balls was how long it took for my libido to come back.  Granted, there were a couple of other things that contributed (one or two of which I’ll get into here), but it was a good solid year, maybe even a year and a half, before my libido started getting back to normal.

Don’t want to wait that long?  Tough.

Well, there may be some things you can do.  But I make no promises.

First of all, stop trying to get her interested.  Stop it.  Just stop.

Sex is not a part of your life right now.  At all.  Just accept it and move on.

Why?  I’m happy to tell you why.

Because she knows that you’re unhappy, she knows that she’s letting you down, and every time you mention it, every time you come on to her and her stomach turns (because yeah, no matter how hot you are, no matter how much she loves you, that’s about the reaction), and she’s faced with the decision whether to fake it to satisfy you or to be honest and let you down again, it’s going to be a step backward, and it’s going to put her in a bad mood, and it’s going to take longer for her libido to come back.

Because right now, on a subconscious level, she sees sex as a negative thing, because of all the baggage that’s attached to it right now.  Because every time you try to engage her, she feels hugely pressured, and it’s just another reminder that she’s not herself and it’s almost like her body is betraying her.

She feels pressured to be the person she used to be, when she’s still trying to figure out how to live in her new body.  It’s an unnerving and uncomfortable experience, and it lasts months.  The more pressured she feels to be who you want her to be, the longer it’ll take for her to feel normal again.

You want to help her?  Take the pressure off of her.  Stop focusing on the sex.  It sucks that you’ll have to do without, and I get the impression that you’re monogamous, so going outside the marriage isn’t an option (*note* if you are monogamous, do NOT broach the subject of opening the marriage right now.  Yeah, she might be open to the idea, but more likely she’ll be hurt.  This is temporary.  You can go without sex for a couple months.  You’ll live, I promise).

Once she feels relief from that constant pressure and negativity associated with disappointing you, she should be able to turn her focus to herself, and figuring out her new “normal.”  The sooner she can do that, the sooner her libido will rise.

And help out around the house more.  Changing dirty diapers and waking up at 2 am to the sound of a crying hungry baby doesn’t turn anyone on, okay?

I don’t know if she works or stays home, but regardless, it’s exhausting.  And I don’t know how active you are as a parent, but just statistically speaking, mothers do most of the work.  They also do most of the housework.  If your wife is working, she’s got to do all of that with holding down her job.

If she’s not working, then most of the time she doesn’t even get to interact with another adult until you get home.  She has no escape.  She has no breaks.  She has no sick days.  She can’t ever step away.

She feels that pressure weighing down on her, and she resents the baby, she resents you, and she hates herself because a “good mother” wouldn’t feel what she feels.

I flat out hated Kazander for the first 5 or 6 months after the spawn was born.  He could get up every morning and go to work, and have discussions with grown ups, and for the first couple months I was breastfeeding, so I couldn’t drink, I couldn’t go anywhere without a pump, I couldn’t leave her with a sitter for an evening and just get out and relax, I couldn’t get a break.

And then of course I hated myself for hating him, and for resenting the spawn.  I knew I was being ridiculous for blaming him for everything (even though he’s the one who wanted her, while I was leaning toward adoption).  I knew intellectually that millions of women feel what I felt, and that it was okay, and it’s normal, and temporary, and everything would eventually be fine.

Intellectually, I knew all that.  It didn’t help me in the moment, though.

Working mothers also deal with guilt from a different place.  Because after maternity leave, they struggle with leaving the baby to go back to work.  Because if they breastfeed, they have to work pumping into their work day.  And there are a number of moms I knew who worked and breastfed, and particularly for those who had male bosses, there was always that fear that eventually the boss would decide accommodating her pump schedule was just too inconvenient.

I know a woman who works as a private secretary who would literally pump in the car, while she was driving, doing errands, so her boss wouldn’t decide it was too inconvenient.

Of course, in her case, her boss found out what she was doing and immediately put a stop to it, and firmly let her know that there was never any errand he needed her to run, there was never anything he needed her to do that could not wait twenty minutes.  She only had to pump once each shift anyway, so she had nothing to worry about.

And I’d go out on a limb and say that the vast, vast majority of male employers are the same way.  People generally aren’t assholes.  Chances are there’s nothing to worry about.  But there’s still that tiny nagging fear.

Many working mothers also feel guilty for leaving home.  They struggle with missing their kid, and missing such a big chunk of their kid’s day.

I mean, regardless of whether your wife works or stays home, it sucks.  She deals with all of that, all day, every day, and then she comes home and cooks, cleans, and takes care of the baby, and even without hormonal imbalances, it’s no surprise she has no libido.

So it sucks for you, in that you’ll have to just do without for awhile, but if you can suck it up and wait it out, and help alleviate some of that pressure, you’ll be able to cut down at least some of the time you’ll have to wait before her libido returns to normal.

And trust me, she’ll see the effort you’re putting in, she’ll see how you’re working to help her, and she’s not going to forget it.

Playlist: Fuck the World, Track 3

Find the strength to see this through…

So the last track was pretty dark, and when I get those urges to just abandon everyone and everything, and turn my back on the world, it helps to remind me that it’s okay to feel that way sometimes.

But doing it would be giving up, and I’m actually not big on the concept of giving up.

Sometimes shit sucks.  Are you going to sit there and wallow, or are you going to strap your boots on, pull up your big-girl panties, and deal with it?

Otherwise is one of my all-time favorite bands.  Yeah, I know you’ve never heard of them.  No one has, because they’ve never been signed to a major record label.

Which is a fucking travesty, m’kay.

This band is amazing.  I mean, I know I’m biased because they’re from my hometown, but even just objectively, they’re amazing.  And my favorite song from them is We Are Soldiers.  The music video is awesome, and also filmed here in Vegas (bonus, one of my exes, and the one who gets credit for me knowing about the existence of the band, shows up in this video.  This was shot long after we broke up, but he’s still wearing something I gave him.  I awwed).

My daughter loves this song too, and we’ll often blast it as loud as the speakers will go.  She’s got good taste in music.  And this is one of those awesome, feel-good songs.

Everyone’s got battles to fight.  For some, that’s quite literal, and they risk their lives, and give their lives, for the safety and wellbeing of people they’ve never met.

For the rest of us, it’s usually more figurative, and even the ones who faced literal battles aren’t done fighting when they come home.  Everyone has their own battles to fight.  It’s about whether they have the strength to keep fighting when shit gets rough.

Because regardless of who you are or where you come from, shit is going to get rough.  You may have faced incredible pain in the past.  Awesome.  You’re not done.  You’re going to face pain again.  And again.

And again.

There are two kinds of people in this world.  There are those who shut down or turn their backs or give up when things get hard, and there are those who fight even when they’re exhausted and overwhelmed, even when it looks hopeless, even when giving up looks so attractive.  Those who will never be broken.

So yeah, shit sucks sometimes.  Sometimes you’re tempted to turn your back on the world.  Sometimes you’re tempted to walk away.

And that’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with feeling like that.  But it’s up to you whether you’re going to let it beat you, or whether you’ll strap your boots on, rub the blood out of your eyes, and find the strength to see it through.

Track Three: We Are Soldiers by Otherwise

 

It’s time to strap our boots on

This is a perfect day to die

Wipe the blood out of our eyes

In this life there’s no surrender

There’s nothing left for us to do

Find the strength to see this through

 

We are the ones who will never be broken

With our final breath, we’ll fight to the death

We are soldiers, we are soldiers

 

I stand here right beside you

Tonight we’re fighting for our lives

Let me hear your battle cry

Your battle cry

 

We are the ones who will never be broken

With our final breath, we’ll fight to the death

We are soldiers, we are soldiers

 

We are the ones who will not go unspoken

No, we will not sleep, we are not sheep

We are soldiers, we are soldiers

 

We stand, shoulder to shoulder

We stand, shoulder to shoulder

We stand, shoulder to shoulder

You can’t erase us, you’ll just have to face us

 

We are the ones who will never be broken

With our final breath, we’ll fight to the death

We are soldiers, we are soldiers

We are the ones who will not go unspoken

No, we will not sleep, we are not sheep

We are soldiers, we are soldiers

Obedience revisited

So I’ve had a few conversations over the last few weeks on the concept of obedience.  And with my last story, more than one person was surprised at the level of obedience in the sub.

A fellow Domme even scoffed at the idea of a sub being that obedient when it’s something he doesn’t want to do.

… Um, what?

There are subs who don’t obey their Owners?  There are Dominants who don’t expect their subs to obey them?

Is this actually a thing?

Maybe I’m just weird, but obedience is kind of a big deal with me.  Like, that’s one of the biggest requirements I have.

I expect to be obeyed.  If I don’t have complete confidence in being obeyed, I’m not interested.

Sounder expressed similar sentiments when I told him about it.

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One of the many reasons I adore him.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what I expect from my subs.  And what I think all subs who are not at this point should aspire to.

Does that mean you can’t have limits?  Of course not.  Sounder has limits.  Star has limits.  And both of their limits are absolutely respected, without question.

Does it mean you have to obey a command that is dangerous or illegal or something that you can’t or shouldn’t obey for whatever reason?  Of course not.

There’s a difference between obedience and mindless obedience.  I don’t want mindless obedience, or mindless anything.

My subs have incredible minds and wonderful personalities.  I don’t want to take that away from them.  They’re strong people, I wouldn’t be able to take that away from them if I tried.

If there’s a reason why they can’t or shouldn’t obey me, they tell me.

But “I don’t wanna” is not a good enough reason, folks.

If there’s a reason they can’t or shouldn’t obey me, they need a better reason than “I don’t feel like it.”

For example, if I show up at Sounder’s house after work tomorrow with a man, and tell him to get on his knees so the man could use his mouth, it’s pretty safe to assume he’s not going to want to do it.

But he’s going to do it.

Now, if there’s a reason why he can’t do it, or he shouldn’t do it, that’s a different story.  Maybe he just had dental surgery.  Maybe he’s had migraines all day.  Maybe he’s got the flu.  Maybe his mom is on her way over to his house to have dinner right at that moment.  Maybe he has to be at a work dinner in 30 minutes, and he just came home to change.

I mean, there are a million legitimate reasons why he can’t or shouldn’t obey that command.  And of course he should tell me if there’s anything like that.

Another example was this past Monday, when I went to his house.  I’d told him I wanted us to go to the salon and get pedicures, because he’s eventually going to go dressed as a girl, and we’ll have a girls’ day at the spa.

But because I’m nice, I told him he can wear his boy costume the first time.  And I told him we were going to go on Monday when I got there, and then we’d go back to his house, he’d get out of his boy costume, and we’d do other fun things.

And he immediately tensed up about it.  After explaining his reasons, I asked him if it was a hard limit.  He said no, it wasn’t, but with everything else happening that night, the added stress of a situation he wasn’t comfortable with, coupled with the time it takes him to get dressed up and beautiful for me, would be an edgy, negative kind of stress that could impact the evening.

Which was a really good point.  There was going to be enough else to make him anxious and nervous, and I didn’t want him tense and anxious, so I dropped it, and told him we’ll do it another night.

Easy enough.

Now tact matters.  How you say it matters.  Had Sounder just flat-out told me no, I wouldn’t have been super pleased.  He didn’t tell me no, and he didn’t tell me some version of “I don’t feel like it” or “I don’t wanna.”

He explained, clearly and respectfully, what the consequences of obeying me would be.  I agree with him, that those were not awesome consequences, so I agreed that it wouldn’t happen.

And the way he handled it, and every situation like it, is exactly what I want.

If he hadn’t said anything, and just done what he was told, knowing it would stress him out and impacted the rest of the night, I would’ve wondered what went wrong, and how to fix it.  I probably would’ve told him that he needs to tell me when those kinds of situations come up in the future, so we can avoid it happening again.

If he had flat-out refused, if he had responded with, “No, I’m not doing that,” I would’ve been really, really annoyed.

I’ve been told I’m just slightly unpleasant when I’m annoyed.  Most people who know me try to avoid that.

So either of those options would not have been what I wanted.  Sounder did exactly what he was supposed to do.  He didn’t mindlessly obey me, and he didn’t disrespectfully tell me no.

And yes, I am 100% confident in his obedience.  I can relax, knowing that I’m not going to have to strong-arm him into doing what I want.  I can just enjoy his presence, I can enjoy tormenting him and hurting him and degrading him and all the things I love doing to him.

In his mind, there’s no option but to obey me.  If there’s not a legitimate reason why he can’t or shouldn’t, it’s just not an option.

And that mindset frees him up to just truly experience what I do to him.  He can enjoy the nice things I do to him, and he can endure the not-so-nice things I do to him.  It feels deeper, more real, because he doesn’t have that little voice in the back of his mind urging him to tell me no.

I enjoy fucking with his mind, I enjoy taking him on these crazy mental and emotional roller coasters, I enjoy playing with emotions like fear and dread and humiliation.

And he can let go and simply enjoy the ride.

After-work quickie

Alex clenched his jaw as he drove home from work. It had been a frustrating day, and he wanted to be able to relax and get his mind off of it.

He turned the corner, onto his street, and his heart plummeted to his toes and skipped a beat when he saw his Owner’s car parked outside his house.

All thoughts of work were instantly far from his mind.

He knew what this was, he’d known it was coming, and he knew what would be expected of him.  Forcing his body to obey him, he pulled into the garage as his Owner got out of her car.

As expected, the passenger side door opened as well.  A strange man got out, and together, the two of them walked into the garage.

“Hello, slut,” his Owner said cheerfully.  His face flamed at the pet name, at her using it within earshot of someone else.  She was showing restraint, she always did when there were others around, but he knew her well enough to read the giddiness in her eyes.

“Hello, Mistress,” he replied quietly.  Her being giddy usually meant difficult and degrading things for him.

She approached him and hugged him tightly, and he could feel the excitement radiating off of her.

“My friend wants to use your mouth.  Let’s go inside.”

The casual, matter-of-fact way she said it was jarring in and of itself.  She could’ve been talking about what she had for lunch.

“I ate a club sandwich, and you’re going to eat a stranger’s cum.”

His heart was racing as he led the way into the house.  He was acutely aware of the unfamiliar presence behind him, walking beside his Owner, as they walked toward the door.

He fumbled with the keys.

“Having trouble, little girl?” she asked playfully, her hand on his lower back, sliding down and groping his ass.  “A little distracted?”

Somehow, he managed to get his door unlocked, and the three of them went inside.

He’d barely closed and locked the door before she was behind him, pushing him against it.  Quickly, she unfastened his pants and slid them down, exposing the women’s panties underneath.

“See?” she asked the man with her.  “I told you he wears them every day.  He’s such an obedient bitch.”

“His ass looks damn sexy,” the man replied.

“Doesn’t it?  It’s so perky.  Feel it.”

Alex lowered his head, his face hot with embarrassment, as he felt unfamiliar hands on him, roaming across his body, sliding underneath his panties, dipping between his legs.

But then, his Owner grabbed him by the arm and turned him around.

“Get on your knees, slut,” she ordered.

Wordlessly, he knelt down, cringing as he heard the unmistakable sound of a pants zipper.  He kept his eyes down, not wanting to look at what was in front of him.

He should’ve known better.  “Look at it,” his Owner said, lifting his head up.  “Look at what’s going in your mouth.”

Reluctantly, he forced his eyes up, his stomach tying itself in knots when he saw the hard, dripping cock only inches from his face.

He felt his Owner’s lips on his ear as she crouched behind him, firmly holding his wrists behind his back.

“Open your mouth, little girl,” she murmured.  “He’s going to fuck it.  And when he cums, you will not swallow until I say you can.”

His body almost seemed to act on its own, obeying her command as the cock was pushed into his mouth.

The man wasn’t gentle.  But then, Alex hadn’t expected him to be.  He held Alex’s head with both hands, thrusting deep and hard into his mouth.  Even when Alex gagged, he didn’t stop.  And his Owner kept a tight grip on his hands, keeping him from struggling.

Thankfully, the man didn’t last long.  His thrusts became more frenzied, his grunts more animalistic, until he plunged his cock into Alex’s mouth, as deep as it would go, moaning as his cock pumped Alex’s mouth full of cum.

Alex wanted nothing more than to be allowed to swallow, but obediently waited, hoping she’d be merciful and wouldn’t make him wait long.

“How does it taste?” she asked.  She moved closer, whispering into his ear, only loud enough for him to hear.  “You’re a cum dumpster,” she told him, the softness and gentleness of her tone a stark contrast to the words she said.  “Nothing but a pair of holes for real men to fuck.  Get used to the taste of cum, little girl.  This is the first of many.”

Her hands roamed across his chest, pulling him back against her.  “Swallow,” she commanded.

Relieved, he obeyed her, shutting his eyes tight as he forced his body to comply.

“That’s my girl,” she whispered approvingly.  She held him against her a moment longer, her arms wrapped around him, then suddenly released him and pushed him hard.  He fell forward, onto his hands and knees, as she rose to her feet.

“Come on, let’s go,” she said to her companion.

And they left, without another word to him.

Why am I not surprised?

 

Okay so in my last post, I mentioned the large number of skeptics who give me hell or get all judge-y and condescending for choosing to believe that astrology has merit, and that I’ve never met one of these people who knew literally anything about it.

And sure enough, one such person poked his head up.  Surprising, right?  Aren’t you surprised?  Because I’m totally surprised.

See this?  It’s my “surprised” face.

But he wasn’t just condescending, he did one better (by not even reading the entire post before making his condescending comment, *Edit* and something else that seriously made my day), and since I’m just a bit argumentative (possibly because I’m an ENTP, possibly because I’m Air and Mercury Dominant in Aquarius, with Sun conjunct Mercury, or maybe just because I’m a bitch who loves to point out when people are flat-out wrong), I couldn’t resist.

Screenshot (29)

Aww, aren’t you precious.

It’s so cute when people try to be condescending, touting their imagined intelligence. Especially when their comment contains numerous grammatical errors.

And most especially when their comment reveals the fact that they didn’t bother reading the entire post before telling me why I’m wrong (and literally proving my original point about these obnoxious skeptics).

Like, I literally just got done talking about how the obnoxious, condescending skeptics prefer ignorance, that they jump to their precious conclusions without knowing anything about it, and here’s a guy who proves my point beautifully.  He didn’t even bother reading the next four paragraphs of my post (much less the whole thing).  He stopped at that sentence, jumped to his conclusions, and did the whole “do a simple blind study and win a million dollars. Easy money” thing.

And for the record, from this point forward, unless I specifically say otherwise, when I use the word “skeptic,” I am talking exclusively about those who get all judge-y and condescending, and feel compelled to give me shit about something they know literally nothing about.  I know a great deal of skeptics who are extremely respectful, and we can discuss it civilly and politely.  Nothing I’m going to say applies to those people.

But that’s not how things work? The burden of proof is on the person making the claim. “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.”

Sigh….

Okay, so since reading is hard (and I know I got super science-y and technical in my last post, you may not have been able to follow if even if you’d taken the time to read it), I actually quoted 2 specific studies of astrology that literally did that exact thing. One by Clark, one by Gauqelin. I also pointed out that Gauqelin’s results were replicated 3 times, by 3 different organizations, in 3 different countries.

Which you would’ve known, had you bothered to read the entire post before telling me why I’m wrong.

Just sayin’…

Also, we don’t have “extraordinary evidence” that the Big Bang, dark matter, and dark energy exist. Those are some pretty extraordinary claims. But using what we currently know and understand, we agree that it’s extremely plausible, to the point that it’s generally accepted as fact. Are you saying you don’t believe in those things? That you’re incapable of understanding or acknowledging something you cannot see or touch, because it hasn’t been proven?

That’s a depressing way to go through life. And what’s more, every astrophysicist, quantum physicist (or quantum anything, really), and physical cosmologist thinks you’re an idiot.  I mean, that’s literally how these people make their living, by imagining things currently beyond the scope of our understanding, and entertaining the idea that it might be true.

Did you read literally anything past the sentence you quoted? Or, like many obnoxious skeptics, did you not bother to learn shit before making your snap judgement?

That’s a hypothetical question, by the way. Don’t answer it, I already know the answer (look at that, I’m like totally psychic). Because I’ve had this same conversation a hundred times with a hundred people exactly like you.

And, like I said in my post that you didn’t read, I have no desire to argue or debate with those who prefer ignorance to education.

Oh, but there is just one quick, teensy little thing….

But for the record: Just do a simple blind study of astrology and you will get one million dollar if it works. Easy money.

Bigger sigh…..

*Edit* So the commentor goes by Randy, and the url he provided is literally the link to the Million Dollar Paranormal Challenge (which was created by James Randi, and I’m assuming the commentor’s name “Randy” is a play on that), which makes all of this so much better.

Like, a million times better.  Oh my God, I literally, actually laughed out loud when I saw that.  Like, totally ugly laughed.  You guys seriously have no idea how happy this made me.

Okay, so the million-dollar thing was called the One Million Dollar Paranormal Challenge (I know, Google is hard *Edit* especially when you were literally on the website), and the challenge was to prove the validity of ESP, and paranormal claims, not astrology. Not a single applicant accepted for testing was an astrologer.

You know, since multiple studies have literally already proven the validity of astrology.  Which, had you kept reading the next four paragraphs of the post after the sentence you quoted, you would have known.

Also (*Edit* and this is my favorite part, you guysthe challenge was terminated.

Which it says, in big-ass bold letters, at the top of the page you linked to.

*Edit again*  No seriously, how did you not know the challenge was terminated?  I mean, I know you didn’t read my post, but I figured you’d at least skim the shit you actually agree with on that site.  Like, how is that even possible, that you’d link to that site, but not know that it says, right up at the top, in bold letters, that they terminated the challenge?

Three astrologers applied.  None were accepted.  The most hilarious exchange was between the JREF (that’s the organization hosting the challenge, I know you didn’t know that *Edit* even though you were literally on that website.  Seriously, it’s almost not fair how much I’m enjoying this).  Look, I really am like totally super psychic!) challenge facilitator and an astrologer named John. A. “JAK” Keeran.

It’s hilarious because the JREF would literally not accept drivers’ licenses or birth certificates as legitimate proof of birth date, paternity, or biological parents’ birth dates.  JAK was never tested because they could not agree on acceptable proof of one’s birthday or parentage.

Oh and also, they didn’t like the idea of him using both astrological skeptics and believers in his data pool, because that’s something that made sense to them, while he wanted an equal number, or at least generally equal number, of skeptics and believers.  Because he felt that was the most objective method, that it would ensure that a group of nothing but believers couldn’t potentially slant their own answers to fit the test.  JREF felt that having skeptics specifically could somehow skew the results in his favor, and give him an “out” if the tests disproved his claim.

And while they said it had to be a double-blind test, somehow JAK was supposed to gather the group, interact with them, and get data from them.  Which is like, the literal opposite of a double-blind test.  When he pointed this out, and voiced concern that direct involvement with the subjects could potentially taint the test, their response was (I’m paraphrasing here) “Oh well, sucks to be you.  I guess you just can’t do the test after all.”

Oh, but tell me more about how objective and scientific and totally not-ridiculous that challenge was.  You can see the records by the challenge facilitator, and see just how demeaning and insulting he was to everyone who applied.  He openly mocked them, and was proud of it.

Whether their claims were bullshit or not doesn’t matter.  I happen to think 99% of anyone who claims any kind of paranormal thing is full of shit.  You won’t see me openly mock or insult them, though.

I know, it’s weird, right?  It’s almost like I’m a better, more compassionate, tolerant, and open-minded human being, capable of recognizing that other people have other experiences and thought processes that lead them to different conclusions that, while I may not agree, I can accept as valid to that individual.

Totally weird.

No, I save the mockery and insults for hypocrites, the willfully ignorant, and those who think they can come on my blog, say something demeaning (and incorrect) and not get publicly ripped to shreds.

So yeah, that challenge was a complete scam, by an organization (which was not a scientific organization, by the way *Edit* and you probably should’ve noticed that when you were literally on their website) run and headed by a former magician. It was so widely criticized, it was eventually terminated, citing wanting to use the money for other purposes as their reason (*Edit* which it literally says, right at the top, in big bold letters, on the website you were on when you copied and pasted the link to show how super smart you are)

And it’s hilarious to me that every obnoxious skeptic immediately brings up that challenge, knowing literally nothing about it, such as the qualifications for applicants, the “controlled” parameters, or the fact that applicants had to sign away their right to an attorney and had no access to the results of the tests, meaning that the organization could legally slant or change the results altogether to suit their purposes.

Whether the organization actually changed results or not, I don’t care. If their goal was truly to objectively prove or disprove the existence of paranormal abilities, why would they need to use such underhanded methods?

Uh, cuz it wasn’t objective, bro.

You know, facts and all.

The only “challenge” ever open specifically to astrologers was to see if they could correctly answer questions about future election results. Since astrology doesn’t predict the future (and it’s kind of laughable, and stupid, to think that astrology does that, and kinda just proves the ignorance of the skeptics running the test), that challenge was never won, and every time someone new opens that challenge (there has been more than one), no astrologist will ever win.

There’s also one open to anyone who claims to use paranormal abilities or astrology to diagnose and treat a range of illnesses. Again, astrology does not do that, so no astrologer will ever win it.

So, since no astrologer will ever win those challenges, that must prove astrology is bullshit, right?

Or is it possible the challenges themselves are slanted, knowingly or unknowingly, by skeptics specifically looking for flaws?  Or, more likely, by skeptics who are totally ignorant about what astrology actually is and have no desire to educate themselves?

Since, again, actual, objective scientists, using actual scientific method, repeatedly found validity in the practice.

Repeatedly.  As in, more than once.  As in, not an isolated incident.

As in, there are literally more tests and studies proving the validity of astrology than there are proving that it’s no better than chance.

Because of the studies that exist that claim to disprove astrology, a) I have a hell of a hard time finding the actual scientific studies themselves, published in the actual scientific journals, which immediately sends up red flags.  Any medical or scientific study that does not make its findings public screams “fraud” to me, but then again, I think Andrew Wakefield is a fraud, while a great number of people worship him as their cult leader, so what do I know?

B) They are made based on claims that don’t actually exist among professional astrologers (yeah, no astrologer can “predict your marital status at age 30” by using your birth chart, bro.  And none of the astrologers I’ve ever met have literally ever claimed to be able to do that.  What a shock that the study using that as their basis found no correlation), such as predicting the future or someone’s IQ, or whether they will die in an accidental death.  I mean, really?  Is that what all you skeptics think we believe?  Like for real?  You actually think that?

Wow, dude.

No seriously, show me where any astrologer claims to be able to determine your height from your birth chart.  That one, I’ve never even heard of.  But apparently some skeptics in India think that birth charts are supposed to do that.  What a shock, that study found no correlation, either.

There’s this one dude in Mumbai, named Raiyani, who tried to literally ban all public astrology practices.  He went to an event and issued a challenge.  These are his exact words:

“I said, you give me 12 predictions for every month-end about the movement of the Sensex, of inflation as per the price index, and the quantum of rain [in some of the main cities of India].”

He goes on to snidely say, “Predictably, no one responded.”

Uh, yeah, bro.  It’s not a damn weather service.  It’s not an economic guide.  It doesn’t show you how to game the Stock Market.  Those who are educated about astrology know this.  And we don’t pretend astrology can do what it can’t.

Also, c) astrologers will flat-out admit that astrology has limits, and will readily publish studies showing such limits (as opposed to the skeptical organizations in Belgium and France, who waited 8 and 14 years, respectively, to publish their positive results, because they didn’t like the answer they got).

Nona Press, an astrologer, gathered a few hundred birth charts from those who committed suicide in New York City between 1969-1973, and they found no significant correlation between suicide and astrology (which, to me, is common sense, but this was also 40-ish years ago, and apparently there were some people back then who thought astrology and suicide were somehow linked).  Quick, wanna guess how many years they waited to publish those results?  It wasn’t 14.  It wasn’t 8, either.

Oh, but astrologers are the biased, ignorant, close-minded ones.

Riiiiiight….

So um, the burden of proof is actually on the skeptics to show that those tests and studies are wrong.  Cuz as of right now, claiming that it’s complete bullshit is more extraordinary than claiming it has validity.  Since multiple people in France, Belgium, and the US already tried to prove one study wrong, and literally couldn’t.

Facts are hard, I know.

But no it’s cool. It’s totally cool to cite that paranormal challenge when you don’t know anything about it (you know, such as the fact that it’s been terminated).

Just like it’s totally cool to get all condescending about something you know literally nothing about.  And didn’t even bother reading the entire post, because your ignorance is just that important to you.

You wouldn’t happen to work for Trump, would you? If not, man, you missed your calling.

So I have a challenge for you (assuming, of course, you’re still reading this and didn’t stop after some random comment ten paragraphs ago.  I don’t have high hopes that you’re still with me, but we’ll see).  It’s the same challenge I’ve issued to every obnoxious skeptic who tries to get all condescending with me.  And just like your dear James Randi, no one has “won” my challenge.

In fact, while I’ve issued this challenge to literally every obnoxious skeptic who has given me shit for it (along with a few non-obnoxious skeptics, who have been respectful), only 3 people have ever taken me up on it, and one was Kazander.

Kazander was never obnoxious about his skepticism.  He was honest, direct, and polite, and that’s fine with me.  A few months ago, though, we were talking and I brought it up and he again reiterated that he thinks it’s bullshit.  So I issued the challenge, and because he is capable of changing his perspective when presented with conflicting information, he took me up on it, and discovered that he was wrong.

Interestingly enough, the other two who took me up on it didn’t fall under the “obnoxious skeptic” category, either.  It’s almost like those who jump to conclusions and feel the need to be condescending and put down other people are afraid that they’ll be proven wrong, because they cannot handle the world not fitting inside their precious little box.

Weird.

But as I was saying, only three people have ever taken me up on it.

Those three people are not skeptics anymore.

So here’s my challenge:  Tell me I’m wrong.

You want burden of proof?  M’kay then, I’ll prove it.

Give me the time, date, and location (city, state, county, country… or territory, whatever) of your birth.  Then give me a few days (these things are labor-intensive as fuck, I never do them for free, but I can be just a smidge spiteful – you know, it’s the Aquarius in me – and the chance to publicly show you up is more than worth the 10-15+ hours of my time it’ll take).

Give me that, and literally nothing else.  I don’t want to know anything else about you.  Then, when I’ve got your natal chart analyzed, tell me I’m wrong.  Tell me it’s not accurate af.

I’ll even post it here, so other people of different astrological signs can read it and weigh in.  That way you can’t cite the professor who handed out “individualized personality profiles” to his class, who scored it with an 80% accuracy, and then found out they all received the exact same thing (which, incidentally, was Gauquelin.  Does that name sound familiar?  It should, because he’s the dude who found the correlation in the positions of specific planets in celebrities.  He was in no way a believer of astrology, and he openly professed his skepticism.  He also openly professed that at least parts of it just cannot be explained by coincidence and random chance, and that there is validity to it).

If you’re a Cancer with Saturn and the Moon Dominant, chances are that there won’t be a hell of a lot in there that a Sagittarius with Mercury and Jupiter Dominant can relate to.

If you’re so sure it’s full of shit, you shouldn’t have a problem with that.  And if you’re so enlightened and educated, you shouldn’t have a problem admitting that you were wrong, and recognizing that being a judge-y douchebag probably isn’t the best way to navigate through life.

Oh and since you know everything you need to know about astrology, without having to read anything, do me a quick favor and calculate the ecliptical geocentric longitude on the eastern horizon at the time of your birth.  That’ll make things quicker for me, since I won’t have to do it for you.  It’ll help me out when I line up the Houses with Signs, and it’ll help me figure out your planetary chart ruler.

And just in case you don’t know how to calculate it, here’s the equation I use.  Just remember that you have to use sidereal time, not solar time, and that makes a big difference.  Since sidereal days are like 5 minutes longer than solar days.

{\displaystyle \lambda _{\rm {Asc}}=\arctan \left({\frac {-\cos \theta _{\rm {L}}}{\sin \theta _{\rm {L}}\cos \varepsilon +\tan \phi \sin \varepsilon }}\right)}

But it’s cool, if that intimidates you, or you don’t know how, or if you’re not familiar with the field of astronomy, I’m happy to do it for you.

You probably won’t take me up on it, though (remember, I’m like totally psychic.  I know these things).  No obnoxious skeptic ever does.  And because you choose to make condescending remarks without reading the rest of the post, because you cling to your ignorance and don’t bother reading what I wrote about it in the first place, anything you have to say outside of your birth info, I’m just not interested in hearing.

Good talk, though.