Spotting an alpha male

I’ve noticed a lot of tv shows recently with at least one alpha male in them (or maybe I naturally gravitate towards watching shows with alpha males in them because, you know, they do it for me…lol.)

These characters are usually the ‘bad-but-good guys’ who boss the adoring females around and make the ‘hard’ decisions. They’re stoic and not above being involved in a bit of biffo when the situation requires it, but also manage to squeeze out a mandatory amount of ‘touchie-feely’ stuff when the women in their lives start becoming too whiney (and every alpha male seems to have a very whiney female…it’s like a burger and fries, they just come in sets like that).

Other than wishing that the women were a bit less whiney, I thoroughly enjoy watching an alpha male blaze a trail across my tv. And even the women, well, I understand the need for drama and conflict in a story and I realise that the easiest way to do that is with opposite character types so I’m okay with that. In fact, the whiney rants of the women-folk give me an opportunity to go and check my email so it’s a win-win situation for me.

I’m not sure what it is exactly that attracts me to alpha males. It’s probably a mix of Disney princess syndrome and some evolutionary pheromone thing that makes us want to seek out a partner who may very well drag you back to his cave by your hair, but will also wrestle – with his bare hands – that hungry sabre-toothed tiger threatening to rip your throat out. Whatever it is, the sense of protection and direction I get from alpha males is yummy.

I was thinking about the alpha male in my life yesterday when I read an article about how the way you write reveals your relationship with the receiver of the email. Being a little bit of a grammar nazi myself, I’m horrified if I send an email off and later discover there was a typo or a grammar mistake in it. I also can’t cope with not writing in full sentences and all my pronouns need to be in place. M is very, very different and will send off emails that make me want to claw my eyes out when I read them. Apparently though, that’s an alpha male thing.

While M is highly articulate and has a memory that borders on the eidetic, he couldn’t care less about starting a sentence in an email with a capital letter or putting an apostrophe where it needs to be. And this, according to the study done in the article I was reading, seems to show his social dominance:

Unlike ‘etiquette problems’ such as the shouty all caps and the sneaky cc-ing of superiors, the abrupt, typo-ridden email is perceived to be a sign of social dominance – the implication being, “I’m too busy to fix typos and spell words in full and you’re not important enough for me to make an effort.”

Another thing he does is leave question marks off requests. I’m not sure whether he realises that he does it or not, but apparently writing “Can you send me a copy.” ‘signals power’. And while I pepper my emails with phrases that are full of personal pronouns (I, we, you etc.) M will often leave them out all together. I sat there reading the article and nodding my head off. It all made perfect sense. Perhaps though, rather than reading between the lines, I should simply look at the biggest indicator of the difference in our social status – the fact that he will often start an email to me with ‘bitch’.

Ahhh…alpha males…gotta love ‘em.

(Read the article here)

alpha male

I’m covered in bees and c’s

Except for that dommely period in my life (see interesting experiment), I’ve had a collar of some way, shape or form since 2005. My collars have always been metal and have had varying degrees of difficulty in getting them on and off, with my first collar winning the medal for most-stubborn-bastard-of-a-collar due to the fact that you almost needed a jeep and a winch to pull that thing apart.

In my hardcore days of 24/7 collar-wearing, which were most of the first 6 years, I used to tie the ‘o’ ring to the collar with a hairband when I went to gym so I (a) didn’t drive everyone in the room crazy with the jangling and (b) didn’t self-inflict bruises (you can nearly take an eye out with a wantonly loose ‘o’ ring!) I wore it to work, I wore it to the pool, the chiropractor, everywhere, all the time, then I got a ‘real’ job and M started to allow me to take it off to go to work.

My conditions for being allowed to take it off to go to work at the moment are that I immediately put it on when I get home – and to be more specific, put it on within the first five minutes of getting home every night. I failed in this respect a few times and had some attitude adjusting cane strokes last Sunday.

I get into trouble 99% of the time because of my logical brain that needs appropriateness and sense in everything I do. This is the part of me that I find almost impossible to switch off and it’s also the part of me that stops blind obedience, which is what you need a healthy dose of if you’re trying to be a good slave. 

When I get home past 8pm at night and I eat, have a bath and am in bed before 10pm, I don’t really see the ‘logic’ in putting on my collar, only to wake up the next morning at oh-my-god-it’s-too-early-o’clock to fumble bleary-eyed with an allen key undoing my collar so I can go to work. It just doesn’t compute with my brain. And because I’m the one who is responsible for putting the collar on and taking it off, I’m not ‘stealing’ his pleasure in not putting it on, I’m just doing the ‘logical’ thing because I’ll have to remove it myself in a few hours anyway and he’ll barely even get to see it. 

It all makes perfect sense to me, but not to M. In his world, no collar on neck=cane on ass. It’s as simple as that. It’s just another example of Master knows best, regardless of what the one with the collar around her neck thinks.

I used to have a problem with putting on and taking off my own collar but I’ve grown out of that needy phase of my slavery recently and have learned to be okay with it. I guess along with that I’ve also grown out of the ‘collar lust’ I used to have, in that I still know I’m a slave even without a lump of metal around my neck. I also might add here that my cunt full of metal is also meant to be a ‘collar’ of sorts, so even without the one around my neck, I’ve still got enough metal to remind of what I am 24/7. Apparently, a girl can never have enough metal on her though and there will come a day of his choosing when I will get a few more pieces of metal to add to my collection. When that day does come, I’m just praying that my body will cooperate and it won’t be a healing & rejection fiasco like my piercings generally are. Maybe if I start praying now I’ll earn enough brownie points to actually make it happen with the powers that be.



Note to self (part 347)

Don’t continue writing a juicy chapter of your story until midnight the night before you’re due back to work after almost two weeks of holidays during which you’ve barely risen in the AM and your normal waking time has a ‘6’ at the beginning of it.

Sleep is just going to be an elusive bastard and it ain’t going to be pretty.

I do it to myself every.single.god.damn.time.

waking up

I’m baaack!

Well, if you didn’t notice that I’d gone anywhere, just carry on as you were, but if you did notice, well, you’ll be pleased (?) to know that I’m back.

I spent a week on the other side of Australia visiting my family. My grandmother turned 90 and along with all the celebrations there was a fair amount of death talk. That part kind of surprised me because, well, I didn’t think it was cool to talk about death when you’re celebrating someone’s birthday. But apparently the taboo gets thrown right out the window once you reach the venerable old age of 90. Even my ten-year old niece joined in the act by asking the very truthful, but incredibly uncomfortable question of:

“When you die are we going to bury you under the dirt?”


It freaks me out to think that my grandmother was alive in the time of Downton Abbey – Season Four at least (and yes, that is how I measure things).

But it was a nice relaxing week during which I slept in everyday, had a couple of hardcore Chinese massages (I nearly needed to safeword during the second one and I have bruises to show for it) and spent quality time with my family.

I generally managed to stick to my diet and even went to a couple of gym sessions in my home town. I had baaad instructors though and it was a relief to go back to my usual Combat class this morning. Although I said I wouldn’t weigh myself, I eventually ended up succumbing to curiosity just before I departed and I discovered that I’ve lost at least a stone, or fourteen pounds or 6-ish kgs – depending on which part of the world you live in.

Coming back on the plane, I also had the lovely experience of being on a newly fitted-out Qantas 737 which had an iPad in each seat pocket as the entertainment unit. I watched a documentary about the real Von Trapp family (yes, that Von Trapp family. I knew nothing about them other than what I’d “learned” from way too many viewings of The Sound of Music, so it was interesting from that perspective) and a documentary about fasting diets. Having not really read much of the literature about fasting, it was surprising to learn about the health benefits (albeit, there aren’t many human studies out there yet).

So other than the fact that I did very little story writing (just couldn’t get into the mood) and I failed at doing all the other things I said I would do like sending some very overdue emails, I had a lovely holiday.


Porn as Food

The other week I wrote about how porn was affecting young ‘uns in that they can’t cope with the reality of sex and I saw this today and it put a smile on my face:

It kind of puts it all in perspective 🙂

P.S I feel a lot more normal now that I know I’m part of the 94% of womankind that doesn’t squirt.

Sliding into the holidays

I’m heading back to my hometown or as M calls it, “land of gorillas in the mist” (it’s a long story…) next Friday for a week. It’s my Nanna’s 90th birthday so I’m looking forward to surprising her with my scintillating presence. I’m going to hide out at my mum’s place until the party and chill on her lounge for an evening, which should be interesting. This is actually the same trick we pulled on my mother for her 60th b’day a couple of years back, so I’m an old hand at the surprise party now.

I’m thinking about what I’m going to do gym and diet-wise while I’m there and at the moment I’m thinking about rocking up to some classes at the local university gym and taking some food with me. I always find it hard to keep up my diet mojo when I go somewhere. Just give me a strict routine to follow and I’m fine, but once I can’t do what I normally do, I lose momentum. My trip to Japan next month will also be challenging – actually it’s going to be impossible so I might just have to suck it up and take a week ‘off’.

My goal at the moment for 2013 is to finish writing my story and I’m hoping while I’m on holidays to spend some quality time doing just that. Somewhere over the past few months my story morphed from a few porny disjointed chapters into the first draft of a 50,000 word novel. It has been a little bit of a labour of love and while publishing a chapter every week has been a good ‘push’ for me to write consistently, it has also meant that sometimes I just haven’t had time to tweak things the way I want or go back and change something I had second-thoughts about.

Believe it or not, a lot of my writing is done on the bus and this involves me tapping each letter into my ipod using the notepad function…that sounds really sad, doesn’t it? Sometimes if I have an idea at work, I’ll scribble it out on a piece of paper and bring it home to type up later (because somehow, I think my subject matter might violate HR policy…lol.) Most of my weekends are spent sequestered in my bedroom drafting out the next week’s chapter and M has commented that he feels like a ‘story widow’ because I’m either at work or in my bedroom with the door closed and he never sees me…lol. I have never been able to concentrate if there is any sort of noise around me and so what I usually do on the bus is just put my headphones in to cut down on the noise.(I wonder if anyone has ever noticed that they are not plugged in??) I’ve never understood how people can do things while listening to music. It just does not compute!

Last week’s chapter was probably the most painfully difficult chapter to date because it was all dialogue. I completely re-wrote it at least 3 times and ended up drawing a weird chart thing to try and make things clear in my head because I was getting so frustrated.


Anyway, it’s been a good experience for me and with only 6 chapters to go we are on the home-stretch! Yippee 🙂

P.S I always wanted to thank everyone who has commented on chapters or has given me encouragement for my story. It’s been great and very motivating. Thank you!