#the fascist
lololol I was going back through old posts and looked at the nicknames I gave people and I have quite the collection of ideologies represented (in order of appearance):
- Marxman (actually a Marxist)
- The Fascist (not actually a fascist)
- The Libertarian (the right wing lib I dated in undergrad whose libertarianism was T H I N N and who I only ever referenced like twice but he has a tag so it still counts)
- Anti-Feminist Libertarian Boy (yikes)*
- Radical Girl (radical as in rad & radical as in radical, still friends, need to see her more)
- The Anarchist Economist (a bit on the nose I suppose but I like it)
PS.
Goddamn I was (and probably still am, if I get back into doing it often enough) an amazing writer much of the time and even some of the things that don’t necessarily get me hot anymore are really hot when I read the way I wrote about them.
PPS.
Holy shit I was into some fucked up shit and wrote out some fucked up fantasies/stories and I totally understand why the kinkshaming radfems came after me, since they apparently they were obtuse enough to think what I was saying was all real (they still suck tho).
PPPS.
Check out the second oldest post in my “voting republican” tag (the other posts are good too) for some high quality high concept kink discourse from some (now lost to the ages) amazing tumblr people. Also the fourth paragraph from the bottom in this post where I talk about being forced to vote Libertarian.
PPPPS.
Also the tag “academic pillowtalk” yields an amazing post where I masturbate to Marxman talking about Foucault and queer assimilation vs. liberation, and then get off to him kinkshaming me, inspired by the aforementioned radfems.
*ffs I tried to fix the tag issue but this is a trash website so just hit this link (boy oh boy the oldest post in that search)
I was bothered by this, like, latest kink shaming round, until I realized that their radfems. Not just that, they seem too be TERFs.
And hey, at least this time, I’m a victim. Like, almost every reblog is calling my partners abusive/horrible and is, like, dripping with handwringing and, like, totes real concern, like, over my well being. They really care. So much. Their, like, certainly not just using me too make themselves, like, seem compassionate. Most cert. And their obvi not ignoring my agency and the, like, reality that I’m a grown ass woman who can make her own choices about how she, like, enjoys having sex.
The, like, post I liked best was the one about how I seem too be involved in a “less abusive” relation now, as opposed too the relationship I’m in with my owner. No, no, sweeties. I just added people in addition to him. I’m still with him. In fact, I’ve also added additional partners who I’m sure these, like, people would consider emotionally abusive, at least. And no doubt that, like, were it possible too do all the things we’ve talked about doing (stupid long distance), they would consider them physically abusive, as well.
Honestly, I, like, think the idea that these men r in any way “abusive” is entirely laughable. Their intelligent, creative, caring people who I have excellent, hilarious, and like, insight ridden conversations with. They respect me, my intelligence, and my agency, like, a billion times more than the kink shamers do.
(Also, maybe the writing dumber thing makes it look like I’m pulling my punches, but, really, they just aren’t important enough too stop playing the, like, enjoyable, messed up game I’m playing with The Super Sadist. Or to violate the punishment, like, my owner gave me.)I had to spend three hours at the dentist (and I’ll have to go back twice more), I stayed at work until 7pm, I had to piss myself in public, I Skyped with The Fascist for the first time (he made me wear nipple clamps, move around with the big dildo in my ass, lick it clean, and then put a condom over it and fuck my cunt with it), and then, while I was coming down from all that, his lovely girl messaged me calling me a slut and whore pretending to be pissed at me for playing with her boyfriend (I thought she was just playing but since I was coming down, I got uncertain about it and wasn’t as sure as I normally would have been. Well played.) I’m exhausted.
And now I’m going to have some much-needed introvert time and not respond to messages for a little while. Instead, I’m going watch Leverage and eat the soup that Puppy made me and eat the most delicious vegan ice cream treat ever.
Today I did the assignment that was the reward I got from The Fascist for doing a good job cleaning my room last weekend.
I came home from work, put on these shorts and headed outside. There were a lot of people around, coming home from work or just going for walks. I found a spot and was about to piss when I noticed a woman at her car. I waited a bit and finally realized that she was cleaning out her car, not just getting in or out. I found another spot, but I was thrown. In fact, I had my fingers on my clit to masturbate while I pissed when that woman walked past me. Luckily, I was partially behind a tree, but it was close. Despite the relative cover of the tree, I was concerned about someone seeing me and I almost wanted to not complete the assignment.
Of course, I did it anyway. Per MLAM’s rules, I rubbed my clit as I pissed, feeling the warm fluid running down my leg, constantly scanning the parking lot and sidewalk to make sure no one saw me. It was nerve-wracking and I was so anxious and worried about potential humiliation. But that doesn’t matter.
It’s not my right to decide when and where I get to piss. I’m a little bitch, and bitches piss when and where they’re told.
I’m such a disgusting pisswhore, doing this was a reward for me. Not a punishment.
Post link
Last week, I asked him to help me get my apartment cleaned up and organized. See, I have no internal locus of self control, so I need a man/dom to be that for me. Eventually I hope to develop some of my own self control, but I need to get by until then. He agreed to help, and told me to send him a list of things to accomplish. I was also warned that there would be consequences if I didn’t follow the instructions.
I sent the list and asked if I could have some idea of what the punishments might be, since I’d never been punished by him before. He responded with instructions to be naked and plugged while cleaning and told me which days to do which tasks. He also said that possible punishments included “holding an enema in with a butt plug for 30 minutes while masturbating, posting degrading body writing/nudes, being made to wet yourself while outside your apartment, licking the inside of the toilet while masturbating.”
All of these were very interesting, and, except for the last one, I found myself wanting to do them all. Of course, I wasn’t going to fuck up just to get punished. I wanted to please The Fascist and be a good girl. As we talked, however, I eventually told him that I wanted to try all of them, except for one. Of course he asked which one I didn’t like, and of course I told him.
He told me that if I did well, I would get to do one of the ones I wanted to try, and if I failed, I would be licking the inside of the toilet. When I got home on Friday, I started cleaning with one of my buttplugs in. It slipped out very easily. I tried the other. It happened again. I sent The Fascist a message asking if I could please skip wearing the plug. As I waited for a response, I continued cleaning with it in, even managing to carry my heavy printer across the room. It was less than fun. Finally he responded and told me I didn’t need to wear it.
Over the next couple days, I cleaned and organize, far more motivated than I would have been by myself. Of course, I only cleaned alone one night. Other times, I Skyped with Marxman and The Super Sadist and on Saturday I had Swarley over. What can I say? I’m desperate for male attention, and cleaning naked in front of them is a good way to show off two of the few things I’m useful for.
Although I had some sleep issues Sunday (stayed awake until 8am, woke up at 3pm, napped a few times, woke up at 4am and cleaned), I did complete everything. I think the greatest achievement was my room.
