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Some slaves may get down on the idea they are just ‘passive’ when it comes to their service but, in actuality, a slave is more active than any time of significant other.
A slave is an extension of his or her Goddess or Mistress; so, therefore, are expected to perform more readily and more intimately than others. Using a slave is simply a Goddess pleasuring herself with one of the ‘tools’ at her disposal; she has no reason to be hesitant with her slave and will be much more willing to experiment and push a slave’s limits.
What can a new year bring? As much as you put in.
It’s always funny to hear people making new year’s resolutions like more talking, more pondering of your problems will solve it. If you want change, do it. Talking is great; you can explore some wonderfully big ideas and discover things you never knew. But if you find yourself lethargic and wanting to make a change; what better than to just get up off your ass an act. Why continue to delay and procrastinate; don’t mention it, talk about it, or write it on a list; do it. Right now.
If you’re planning, great; but don’t confuse planning for doing. Planning is a sedentary step; it doesn’t get you any closer until you act and even then, you’ll likely face adversity you must find it in you to persevere This is why people are lethargic; lazy. It’s not simple enough; they give up.
The successful people look down with quiet distain for those who don’t do.
Stop talking. Start doing.
How much must you take on, how much must you do to survive?
I am thankful for the fact that, to my knowledge, we only live once; I could not imagine more lives of shlepping and suffering. Sure, there are those who have it far worse off but everyone’s expectations are beyond reach.
People should not be killed but for some, life is out of reach. People should not go hungry but for some, food is out of reach. People should not be unemployed but for some, jobs are out of reach. These are three fundamentals of our lives though, admittedly, we could get on without jobs but that’s a whole non-monetary system kettle of fish that’s hardly worth thinking about.
How many unpaid jobs can you take before someone starts handing over some dough? Until someone sees your merit to actually be an employee and not an independent contractor; as if we are to work freelance all our lives. Freelance secretaries, freelance doctors; it’s absurd but an Idiocracy truth we live.
The business man has no money, the employee can’t get paid; something is woefully wrong here. Where’s the breakdown? It can’t be spending because these stores stay afloat; why is it that now they suddenly aren’t making enough to survive when before they did fine?
What’s happened to our collective prosperity and why do so many of us struggle and scrape just to work, just to try to get a job, let alone do the job. We starve to death in waiting rooms just hoping someone will throw us a bone with a little meat on it, maybe some gas money. Oh how sweet it tastes to live in squalor.
The more I persist, the more I think on it, I have reached the feeling that I am merely drained of it.
Think about it, at a certain point, where do you go? Every combination, every possible smell, victim, ass assailant it’s all been done and said before.
You can change the words and descriptions to infinite combinations but the content is limited in scope. The important aspect is the release and torture (or adoration) that follows; you can fluff it with all the story you want but it doesn’t really change the fact that an Aggressor is farting on a Victim, at some distance, which is then offensive to the Victim’s olfactory senses.
You can exchange the underlined words for other words such as pooping, exciting, and esophagus. Italicized words could be replaced with Lover and Willing Participant.
The farter is fat, the farter is sexy hot; she likes farting, she’s hesitant, she’s sadistic. These are minor detail changes but the core; it’s all just the same story, retold over and over again.
A psychologist perhaps explained it to be best when asked about writing facesitting eroticism; he asked what is there after she sat on his face. Little did he know about the farts and shit that come out but, at the end of the day, the analysis seems correct.
I presume vanilla porn has the equal brick wall of bordom; perhaps only for those who have this mindset beyond or ‘above’ release. But even then, I don’t know what that is; I just assume it’s superior, perhaps it’s highly inferior; a relic.
Perhaps this dying hunger to be dominate is, subconsciously, at the helm; driving the desire into self-destruction if it is further suppressed from reality cum realization.
Perhaps it is just me who thinks the core is dried out; even if just by myself for myself. I’ve written many stories, perhaps the core is over-mined for me. I don’t know.
Maybe my life has drifted away from this; if not, I feel this is the crossroads. At one side stands a relatively asexual normalcy; at the other, a fear yet burning desire to fulfill something that my paranoia would not allow. I do not believe, when beginning one’s life, one can merely stick their face deep in a woman’s ass, be forcibly held to sniff a powerful, potent gassing, and then go about a life of normalcy.
Perhaps following through would kill this desire; even that change is scary. And even that, involves overcoming the paranoia of someone knowing.
What must be done?
The main issue with producing (that is to say: writing, drawing, recording, etc.) content for this realm is that it depreciates in value very quickly. I’m not talking about a monetary value for which most are worthless/priceless; the exception being most video producers and some visual and traditional artists that take commissions.
It seems like those who like ‘regular,’ dick-into-vagina or -ass, porn aren’t particularly picky about it; it seems to just kind of be about the motions. I don’t quite understand it myself but there’s no denying ‘normal’ people’s attraction to it.
For fetish content, because it’s a whole package; the dialog (insults), the sounds, the prospective smells, the reaction of the victim, or willing participant, I guess, who you assume the position of. In my case, the victim, acting as if I’m dying under her; yelling how wrong this is for her to do but she pays little mind (I know she can’t hear me). All of these factors, come together and makes the, in this case, video, get dull very quickly.
You simply get tired of being that guy, pretending to breath in those farts, that sound exactly like that, with her saying the same thing. In some ways, it would be like that movie Groundhogs Day. What doesn’t make sense is why this isn’t true of vanilla porn but perhaps it’s merely the far vaster propensity of it all. Many more people are creating content or just simply filming (and sharing) themselves having vanilla sex.
It seems like porn would be greatly hurt by piracy but perhaps even they are beaten out by people who just ‘give it away.’ I don’t know anything about the porn business; ‘people’ say it’s lucrative. I’ve heard nothing else really.
Fart video producers seem very damaged by piracy and there’s far more content on lockdown then there is available free in comparison to vanilla porn. But don’t get me wrong, what fart content is available for free is also plentiful; the ratio is merely tilted in monetary’s favor.
I guess this can be no better than a rant; I realize this only after deciding I could not wrap this up with a point or goal. It’s really merely an observation of the differences; a comment on how quickly our content fades. But then, this is pornography, who expected to mean anything? And fetish pornography? It’s foolish to even dream.
Only now do I realize, yes, indeed, what I write looses it’s luster. For me, my stories are no longer exciting after their completion. Going back, perhaps even waiting years to open up and look at a story again; that might re-ignite the flame but it’s a dull burn that will die out quickly.
Some of my favorite stories, from some of my favorite writers, even they are no longer what they used to be to me. It saddens me, perhaps this problem is only mine; perhaps merely I am some horny, insatiable beast, always seeking more. I didn’t think so.
Perhaps repression of this from the public can do that.
I often question what’s better; to full embrace these urges within me or to remain a semi-normal member of society, living in secret.
Do I want to sniff a chair when a woman has walked away? No, not really; it’s not an impulse or urge that comes to me on the spot. Perhaps it’s I’ve never had the suspicion a woman farted on a chair previous to standing from it but I doubt I’d react differently.
Would I perhaps have a further understanding of this thing inside me if I did? Perhaps. But I think, arguably, this is a path; once you tread down this path, it could be difficult to leave and I’m not sure I want this to rule my life. At best, a comfortable person I can discuss it with but even then, why?
Why do I need to discuss it? At times, it is difficult to just bare it alone; I’ve already written (perhaps owe a post to) about the quick decay of new content; the endless, lusty pursuit. That, in itself, scares me enough, in the privacy of my own home, how I act regarding porn content, to not really have urges to act upon any fetish desires. It doesn’t rule me.
I often think it’s a difficult thing to be normal and likely it is. Probably equally as likely is this particular struggle makes normalcy a much different path to attain; balances are found, compromises struck because, face it, it’s not like you’re going to suddenly love straight intercourse because your fetish is ‘all used up’ and you want to play normal now.
It’s hard doing this work. There’s little reward for it, much sorrow, overdue bills, but the freedom afforded can’t be beat unless there’s money involved. But each dollar slowly chips away at your freedom and individuality; this is why highly paid executives are pretty stiff and interchangeable on a personal level.
You wish there were some accolades to this, some fame, even just an income. Freebies maybe? No? You really just have to be in it for yourself; for your own enjoyment.
No, this can’t be more than a side project; at least for me. I’m in awe of those who make a living writing; I pride myself on the art too but I don’t know if I’d ever come to make it profitable.
Most of you should or may know that, from time to time, especially during my heavy scat ‘phase,’ I wrote a lot about a Goddess named Rosemary.
This is a real Goddess I speak to regularly and like any good toy, I attempt to please her by regaling her of tales of her travels.
It’s interesting writing for a Goddess; demands are not to be taken lightly and when you’re new, sometimes the timetable for assignments are fierce But, you get it done; you finish your work and present it with a pathetic smile to the glory and power that is the Supreme Goddess. I am a lucky slave indeed to be in her roster.
It is no simple task. Taking on the needs of a Goddess will forever change your thoughts; alter your thinking of what’s importance. You find the yourself you once knew quickly, rapidly fading away; absorbed into the greatness of the Goddess. So in some small, insignificant, and whiny way you can say you exist as part of that greatness but you must understand that you merely exist as a simple bolt. You hold up the Goddess, you uplift her on your puny shoulders and hold her for all the world to applaud and adore; but your important role is insignificant and highly replaceable. Any brainless peon can do what you do.
You simply have the luck of the draw to pretend to be important, simply by being near an awesome greatness that is the Goddess Rosemary.
Read a few of my favorite Goddess stories:
Having this fetish is always a roller coaster. Between feelings of inadequacy when it comes to feeling ‘normal,’ worrying about someone finding out, juggling the thoughts of why you sexually enjoy the thought of pain and suffering to yourself or a proxy of yourself; there’s a lot to feel badly about.
I find the answer in balance. I’ve been ‘hot’ in regards to this fetish for a long while but now, hundred or more stories later, it’s lost a lot of it’s luster but I find myself more at a sexual no-mans-land rather than crawling to the ‘normalcy’ of vanilla sex.
Perhaps, like the Roman decline, the answer to my fizzle lied in the extremities of scat content. My choice of entertainment, due to boredom, went extreme and now even that is unsatisfying. But where do you go from there? I mean, this is my niche so where do I get off?
The new becomes old quickly, it’s almost an insatiable hunger at times but I’m no heathen, you wouldn’t recognize me outside of the net; my secrets are my own.