So I’m back for the time being, have posted something for your reading pleasure and in general am relaxing from a very, very tedious time on the road. Sasha has a lot to say on the issue.

The weather is good, so I let her out. She never goes far, sometimes going to play in the water or bring me back a dead lizard or snake. Today, as I was sitting on my deck, listening to Nora Jones and drinking the southern favorite of sweet tea, I heard the howl of some pissed off animals. Me, thinking that I needed to rescue Sasha, took off to find the source of the sound.

Oh, how my illusions regarding my sweet animal have been shattered. Sasha, who fits in my palm, who is tiny, though slightly chunky for her size, sleeps downstairs in a pink princess bed, was making this huge cat her bitch. I’ve raised an alpha female cat. I told her to come and she just stared at me, looking quite relaxed. Indeed, the other cat was making the noise and had the general pose of a terrified animal, ears back, in a corner, and howling like it was being fed into a meat grinder.

Sasha is the neighborhood bully, roughing up other animals for squishy food and cat nip.

Now she’s on restriction. At least she isn’t boring.

I’m cheating with the next installment you say? I’m late? Despite what you might think, not posting isn’t my form of punishment for any of you. Well, N, but hell, me not being here is more punishment than me not posting.

Eh. I’ve barely had time to do anything other than glance at my favorite blogs myself, without even considering slipping into a place I could write. Some of this was done not long after I posted 1.5, and some of it was finished as I am posting it this evening. The end isn’t far away assuming no one else has a forest fire to put out.

It’s been a vicious set of days strung together - numerous flights, hotel rooms and dining out on the road. Is it possible to get a healthy meal that isn’t mostly iceberg lettuce and dry fish? I’m home now, somewhat situated, and about to eat a whole lot of veggies that don’t belong to the lettuce family.

Thanks for your…patience.

(more…)

I realize I’ve been slow writing this piece. I get lost in the detail. I know there is someone out there, eager to read this piece, perhaps to re-live it, or maybe to satisfy a voyeuristic need to see inside my life. It was to be part 2, but the ending pages are filled with complex concepts and so, to break the silence while I sort through the mire, I offer you this.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. (more…)

Exercise caution before you decide to click on the more option and read the rest of this post. It isn’t that I am reluctant to show you any part of my dark nature, but I know how it feels to have a preconceived idea about someone torn away in a moment of realization. As funny as it sounds, I like the illusion that I am a romantic lover, that perhaps you view me that way, instead of my more frequent nature - often demanding and selfish, meticulous and calculated. Maybe you already knew, perhaps you’ve had a sadist occupy your heart before and recognize the nature of the beast. Romantic creatures, we are not. N’s and my relationship depends on her ability to yield without always having answers available in the moment. It balances out in the long term, give and take being what they are in this unique relationship… This which follows is one of those times without balance.

This is a re-telling, not a guide for piercing, cutting or other blood play and is performed by someone with a great deal of experience with a partner I trust and who trusts me (most of the time.) I have no desire to describe the sterilization process, proper cleaning of wounds and equipment or, in general, anything that takes away from my enjoyment of writing it…

In short, don’t try it if you don’t know what the fuck you are doing.

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