First off, reading over the post below, I was horrified at how often I used the qualifier 'to some degree.' To some degree, it weakens everything I say. To some degree, I shouldn't use the phrase at all, little less 11 times in as many sentences. To some degree, I sound pretty inane.

Sorry bout dat. I'll try to read things over before I click on 'Post and Publish.'


An anutha thing. Something I did learn at the Spirituality Group today. Or rather, something that I put together for the first time. On Leather Navigator and World Leatherman, I frequently get IMs commenting on my eyes. As in, "Damn! Those eyes! So powerful! I'd do anything..." I sort of thought it was a function of the pics that I post with my profile. ("Peter Piper Posted Profile Pics dePicting a Pretty Pickled Peter Piper...") Part of the ritual we did tonight involved a Sufi thing: we paired off, and each man in the pair put his right hand over his heart, and clasped his partner's left hand with his left with his own left hand. (Ya followin' this? It's complicated, I know.) Then, we stared into each other's eyes and slowly circled each other. I found it to be pretty powerful to... ummm... 'fix him with my gaze.' It was a taking-control-of, of sorts. Taking over. Capturing. Holding. Securing. It was a mutual thing, but perhaps just because I'm tall--I was looking down, and they were looking up--there was a de facto element of dominance and submission.

Now, not to trade in a pearl beyond price for filthy lucre, but I'm gonna use that. I think I might have mentioned once or twice on here (ahem.) that I'm lousy at cruising. Next time I happen upon a man I want to whip, I'm going to take a deep breath, and hold him in my gaze. Just hold him there. Drinking him in. Letting my imagination run wild thinking of what I'd like to do with him.

Might work. I'll see how it goes.

This could be the start of something big.

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Right now, I'm IMing back and forth with Roman Cool. Saw him on line, and asked if tonight would be good. Alas, he made a date about twenty minutes before I flagged him down. We started talking about whipping. I mentioned that I'm very much looking forward to possibly giving a wonderful boy his first trip to the World of Getting Whipped tomorrow night. Roman Cool responded by saying that he loved newbies. I agreed, saying that although it's wonderful to work with an experienced bottom on whom you can really unleash, I sometimes feel that I'll blur into the line of my predecessors and successors. But he'll always remember his first whipping. Roman Cool said he remembered vividly his first time bottoming. So do I, I said, and mentioned that it was ARt who had that honor. Sez Roman Cool: He's a pussy cat. Sez me: Having seen both of you in action, I think that might be true, comparatively speaking. Cool intimated that he would not turn down the opportunity to spill some of my blood. "Well," I said, "making the jump from pussy cat to hell cat might be too big a leap."

He's still coaxing me. Something to think about.

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