A coerced gamer's perspective

Well today was a joy. More things off the" to do" list, which is not getting smaller, including being slipped in on the spot for another breast ultrasound. Honestly you would think that being smeared in warm gel and stroked firmly would be more sexy and yet, all one could do was relate to the cat when caught unexpectedly in a shower of water from the hose. Ewwwwww.... just ewwwww!!!!!

It was enough to make one book not one, but two nights away next week. Honestly being on holidays is not a break. Meals still need to be cooked, endless rounds of dishes still have to be done... actually they seem to pop up more frequently... and dirty clothing seems to mount up quietly when your back is turned.

The only relief was visiting an old school chum of His for dinner. Well that was the ruse. The reality was an evening of gaming. Oh and an invite to join them for their regular Saturday game.

This was in spite of one replying to the question of what's your favourite game, with any game one isn't being forced to play.

His friend thought it was so funny that he had to duck to the bathroom to hurt himself laughing so much...

All you could hear was gales of laughter, interspersed with whimpers of pain

The sounds of pain were very gratifying...

Maybe He is right and never letting one tie him up is the sensible precaution that he has always claimed.

Maybe He is right and we should just stay in the bedroom having sex. At least that doesn't generate quite so many additional things for that damn list.

Sighs He's going to read this and one is going to be subjected to the victory dance...

Bastard!

On coffee and slaving

It was, as promised, an early start to the day. Oh there was no sex as threatened. No, what happened was He woke one tripping over something noisy in the bedroom as he snuck back to bed, having most probably been up for hours. For a few minutes one lay there in denial and then the bladder won its personal fight for supremacy and then the need for coffee won over the desire to go back to sleep.

That need for coffee was still strong as one caught up with an acquaintance from the gym. It was our annual "our schedules finally sync up enough to have coffee" get together. It was very nice curled in a patch of winter sun like a lizard on a rock, or in this case a large wicker chair with cushions, imbibing the bean. To a casual observer one would have looked like there wasn't a care in the world.

They would be wrong of course 'cos He had loaned one out to his mother for kit furniture building. It took hours. There were that many screws that the hands needed to be iced afterwards to get the swelling down. Mind you she did feed one homemade soup so it wasn't all bad.

Of course now we have to do a dump run to get rid of the boxes.

Why is it that job list is not getting smaller? Why?

 

And coming home one might have slipped into the dealer's place of business and these might have followed one home. In fairness one did make some space in the shoe cupboards yesterday. Admittedly that space may have been filled by things waiting to get in there. But the queue was empty so...

Sighs it's not a problem until it takes over your life, it's not a problem...

Protection spells

One of the joys of having holidays with a person, who works permanent nights, is that it takes a while before their body clock adjusts. We had a busy day; up at the crack of dawn and in the gym, massive amounts of laundry (well He unpacked a game, which is a lot of cardboard that needs to be punched), scuttled out to work to grab a couple of things, on to a good shopping centre for lunch, some shopping including groceries and then back home. Then there was laundry folding (while He unpacked a game that followed him home), cooking dinner, tidying up and plopping down on the lounge next to Him to watch something...

That was when He started to get that owl look... the one with the eyes opened wide and the blinking... as he desperately tried to stay awake.

Sighing He gave up and conceded that he could stay awake no longer. It was 8 pm. Laughing, one pointed out that He would be awake bright and early, most likely 2 am. He turned around leering and suggested that one might be joining him...

Arse up so to speak.

You know one was just reading on Fet that one has the right to say no to this sort of treatment...

For the record, it only seems to invoke laughter as a response.

Sighs their magic spells of protection don't seem to work... at all :(

Such a disappointment

There was a discussion on Fet in the M/s group about what to wear during a scene. It was started by a young master and it isn't a bad question. In fact it is a perfectly logical question when you are new. What was disappointing was that it was page two before anyone brought up leather chaps sans anything else.

What is the world coming to?

Doesn't anyone dress anymore?

Sighs at this rate "that guy" will be dying breed...

You got a friend

There is a big hullabaloo going on over at Fet at the moment. Isn't there always you may be thinking? Well this one is interesting. The cause of all the stink is an alleged catfish (a person who fabricates an online persona to dupe people into relationships) who became ill. The in hospital fighting a life threatening illness isn't the cause of the stink... well it is to some degree. No what is really causing the stink is that a friend did the decent thing and raised funds for this person, who may or may not exist.

Now ethical issues aside one of the big things to come from all of this ongoing shemozzle is don't give money to strangers on the net, however well you may think you know them or for how long. The general feeling is that online it is too easy to fake this shit.

And confirm people are who they say they are...

The list goes on and all one can think is yeah this shit is not that simple...

Many years ago when one was a mad young thing living in Sydney, one ended up working for a husband and wife combo who were running a restaurant.  The whole team got along famously, in fact one ended up living with a couple of them for some time. They arranged one's wedding to the girlfriend of the time, in fact the husband gave one away... but one does digress and that is a tale for another time.

During this period the husband came out as gay and gay politics being what they are, we got him in their eventual divorce. It was a mad drug and alcohol fuelled time where we all partied like crazy, hell one was nineteen/ twenty and living far, far away from family... as far as one could get in fact. While one was off out on the town for a few days the husband moved into one's room and very neatly got one out of the flat. His excuse was that it was all a misunderstanding and that he assumed as one had married the girlfriend that one was moving out. Of course the reality was that one had no intention of living with the wife all the time.

Hello party girl, why would one want to move into the National Park where she lived, miles from lights? But again, a story for another time...

At the time one thought nothing of it, well a mild sense of annoyance and one drifted away from that group. Life in Sydney being what it was everyone moved in circles, sometime they overlapped often time they didn't. Eventually one left the country for some time, before moving back to live in Brisbane. The world is a small place though and out one night with the partner of the time one ran into the husband at a party. It was all very surreal and gay... lots of kissing and pretending that nothing had happened as we caught up.

It was late in the evening when he mentioned, almost casually, that he was dying of aids.

To this day one can still see those brown eyes radiating truth and honesty and complete sincerity, as he shared that profoundly intimate detail of his life.

The night wore on and there were the usual promises to stay in touch, which of course one didn't do. If one was good at that sort of shit then one would be a different person and frankly, fuck with one once is all the chance you are going to get.

Anyway six months or so down the track one ran into a mutual acquaintance of both oneself and the husband. What a merry tale they turned out to have...

Apparently he took people for a lot of money, support, free rent, gifts and whatnot. It seems that he was faking the whole dying thing... and the aids and probably a lot more besides. There was a part of one that wasn't the least bit surprised. After that whole flat misunderstanding thing one was more than a little cynical about the man.

But the moral of this story is don't be thinking that meeting people in real time is going to save you, neither is camming, nor skyping, nor any other form of confirmation. Cons will always find a way. They are highly specialised group of predators and they are good at what they do... well the successful ones are at any rate.

If you want to give money to people do so, but don't do it thinking that they owe you anything, be it friendship, loyalty, honesty or truth in return. That thinking will lead to a great deal of disappointment.