Saturday, May 16, 2026

on suppression, rage and masking. A Naturalists perspective on the relation between emotional repression and the so called ‘protected’ modes of fornication

 From an early age many of us learn that no one is truly a safe space for us to be ourselves fully around. Sometimes we learn from family that anger is the only appropriate emotion when faced with difficulty, for others, anger is shut down by mentors and family members, and we learn that it is safer for us to channel that rage inwards rather than let it out. Maybe we go numb, maybe we learn to be small, maybe we learn to criticize ourselves, and we lose the ability to express what’s inside. It’s not our fault. These emotional issues span generations, passing the torch of trauma from one unhealed offspring to the next. If as a child you learned that your authentic feelings would be rejected, as a survival mechanism you likely rejected or dismissed yourself in order to preserve the relationship. 

As an adult, I’ve struggled with this emotional and personality suppression. When I realized that so called ‘protected’ sex was an externalization of this inner suppression, I haven’t been able to sheathe my manhood with a rubber. If my raw nature can’t be accepted, my body shuts down. Making a concession for someone else while being inauthentic to yourself is NOT sexy. I sleep with like minded people. Honestly and clarity are important, and I have never been in an intimate situation without having a conversation about this first, I want someone who can take me as I am, and to let me witness them fully, be a space for each other to explore without needing to mask, to hide our ‘faces’ in shame. See me, that is all I want, witness me. 


Let’s be confident, let’s be confused, let’s be uncertain, but let’s not be controlled. Let our anger, tenderness and ecstasy make something beautiful, let us truly be uncensored, be human. I don’t want to lose myself again. 

Fast and Furious: Carnal Lust Eternal. Cerebral, Sublime, Superhuman Achievement in the Field of Ecstasy!

 The human condition is a subject discussed time and time again by some of the most famous philosophers. I haven’t read much of it, but there is a level of understanding you achieve from just existing. Performance enhancement, not artificially inserted, but wrung from the dishrag of perseverance. I sing the blues to sleep and to wake, there is something torturous about continuation of pattern. I was so upset when I got the letter this morning, abasement of my decency, base functions deserted me and the heart leapt like a heating bill. A decision is made somewhere to pull silly putty apart into wide bubbles and it fits together again but undeniably different. Blow blow blow blow blow blow blow blow blow blow blowjob sex fetish buxom breast balls ballsack bulge bulging boner bran belated birthday outfit birth cleaning it all out break of day sex birthday sex bludgeon butt belated sex boredom blue balls breakfast sex bander casual cum curtain sex pubic curtain cock creampie clitoris condomless colourful rest assure cunt pearl cuorduroy pants and leggings and panty hose strewn on the floor like some cultish contemporaries fantasy of free love. furious i’m furious for many things, i’m cerebral i contend clarity dangerous sex dilf dildo dumb thick dunce doggy style downward dog dick down derive meaning from something like this. clear out the snow something new it evokes clear out the cobwebs clear out the dustbunnies clear out the clear hierarchy in something like this. bland bland bland bland bland now superhuman achievement in the field of ecstasy and other normal compulsive behaviours for humans to endure i think. 

Sunday, May 10, 2026

This Condom Hater Is Hurting

 This Condom Hater Is Hurting. 

I Feel the Sound of Rain. It Bangs at My Ear Drums and Makes Itself Known to Me. I Get No Relief. This Condom Hater Is Tired. This Condom Hater is Alone. This Condom Hater Is Hurting. I See No God When I Close My Eyes. I See Nothing, Or The Absence of Nothing. There Is Light But There Is No Warmth. This Condom Hater Is Confused. This Condom Hater Is Spent. This Condom Hater Is Hurting.

Thursday, January 15, 2026

Fluid Bonding and Terraforming on Corlestan

 There must be a mistake. That was my first clear thought after thawing and seeing the desolation in front of me. 

Our primary initiator triggered the essential crews thaw upon arriving within 30,000 miles of Corlestans orbit. The blindness of deep sleep recedes and the numbness fades. 14 years I have been sleeping, genetically frozen and not aging as our vessel hurtled through darkness. 


Scientific exploration for future interplanetary settlement was rapidly developing at the time of our departure from earth. Due to the impending environmental consequences in our trajectory, and advances in light speed travel, intergovernmental organizations began scanning for hospitable planets across the galaxy. I had my reasons for wanting to leave. 14 years of travel, 5 years of research and 14 years of travel back. By the time of our return to earth, everything would be different, but I had my reasons. 


I believed Corlestan to be a relaxed and reliable choice - not too far, and a paradise planet from images captured on the modified JWST. As a seasoned ecologist, it was remarkably easy to gain a position in the crew of 18; all scientists of different specializations, chosen to properly survey the planets potential for large scale migration. We spent 2 years in intensive training together before the departure. My last day on earth was spent tying up loose ends. I had no one to say goodbye to anymore. Sad and embittered feelings came to the surface, but I had made a choice to turn my back on ‘what ifs’ long ago. My last memory on earth was between fluttering eyelids, The touch of a masked hand and bright lights as I was put to sleep. 


Regaining my senses 14 years later, I see Corlestan - a circular vacuum of darkness - sitting in front of our vessel. I recognize the 7 moons, I know we are on course, but this is not the paradise I expected. 



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Hey guys so I’m not really in the mood to finish this story, it’s my first time writing something like this, and it’s stressing me out a little, so I will just put bullet plot points to finish it <<3 Thanks for sticking with it this far. 

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  • landing on Corlestan, and it is a planet of jagged obsidian and sap like rivers that ooze. The air is acrid and coarse to the lungs. 
  • the crew is able to survive on the ingenious hydroponic gardens that are built in to the ship
  • Stuck for 5 years before they are set to return, they make the most of it and try to understand the strange new world that defies their previous conceptions, but their readings are all over the place and make no sense. Tensions rise and factions emerge in the crew.
  • During the training on earth the one big rule was that when crew members engaged in sexual relationships, they had to use ‘condoms’ or other forms of barrier ‘contraceptives’, because on another planet that was being studied, a baby had been born that took on the malevolent characteristics of the planet and ended up killing the entire scientific mission. 
  • After a heated argument, the main character Salmin breaks down. She can’t handle it anymore, the desolation, physical discomfort and the fighting on the station, which has begun to feel like a social minefield.
  • Her best friend Dr. Pensyth, a geologist comforts her, and while he strokes her hair, she begins to have an awakening in her pussy.
  • Crying in his arms, she shares with him that the reason she chose to leave earth was to finally close the door on a cruel partner who would emotionally torment her and make her feel worthless. She had no family left on earth, and she wanted to be as far away as possible. 
  • Salmin then confides that she thinks no one will ever desire her, because her self confidence in love is so low. Dr. Pensyth proceeds to kiss her forehead and further down until she has her first orgasm in 20 years. 
  • Flustered and confused, Salmin burries herself in her work again, avoiding Dr. Pensyth, but secretly wishes to be near him again and connect carnally. 
  • They talk again, and things become more intimate. Dr. Pensyth brings out a condom to take their relationship further, but Salmin point blank refuses, and says she will never have sex like that again, it was one of the ways her ex used to torment her, with the disgusting rubber restrictions. Dr. Pensyth is receptive, but ultimately feels concerned, as there are censors aboard the station which will alert the already factional crew if condomless sex takes place on board. 
  • It is revealed that Salmin has huge breasts. 
  • They carry on with life aboard the vessel, and at the 1 year mark of their expedition, Salmin puts on a party to try and reconnect the disparate and increasingly antagonistic scientists. They reminisce about earth, their families, the things they miss… differences are put aside and things feel better, even if just for a moment.
  • overcome with an immense sense of loss about the time she wasted with her cruel ex, and never having a healthy relationship to sex, Salmin convinces Dr. Pensyth to brave Corlestan’s unsympathetic conditions in order to fuck raw outside the station. 
  • Leading Dr. Pensyth by the hand, naked, feet being cut by the sharp obsidian, Salmin brings him to the edge of one of the sap-like rivers where they fuck like crazy.
  • Salmin embraces the difficulty breathing and pain of the world as some kind of purification ritual which allows her to move on from her old life, and enter into a new phase of authenticity and liberation. They cry out and orgasm at the same time. 
  • Joint, their fluid dribbles down Salmins legs onto the obsidian, then is picked up by the viscous river and flows away. 
  • they head to bed as everyone else is partying, and profess their love for one another. 
  • Narratively, we follow the trajectory of the shared fluid, as it makes its way through the rivers of Corlestan.
  • In the morning when everyone wakes up, they see a paradise outside the space station. Bright blue rivers, dense green vegetation, the 7 moons circling above, and bird like animals flying through the sky. All are shocked
  • a delegation of Corlestans make their way to the ship. The Corlestans have trunklike appendages on their faces, 4 limp arms and their body spreads out almost like a dress into a base that seems to glide over the ground. 
  • Through a form of telekinesis, they communicate that the union of life that was shared with the rivers through the passionate intercourse of Salmin and Dr. Pensyth was the fulfilment of a long held prophecy of their people, that outsiders would share their union with the rivers, and paradise would return to their planet, banishing the darkness that had dominated it for over a century. 
  • While the crew is shocked at the serious digression of Salmin and Dr. Pensyth, they rejoice at an end to the bitter existence they had eked out. The crew share with the Corlestan delegation their mission, and after a long and emotional discussion, the crew agree that the Corlestan paradise and people should remain undisturbed, and that they will go back to earth and declare Corlestan to be unsuitable for human habitation, showing the data from the first year in Corlestan as proof. 
  • 4 years later, and one month before departure, Salmin and Dr. Pensyth have had two children, human except for the trunk like appendage so characteristic of the Corlestan people. They are having condomless sex all the time, and can not get enough of each others sex.
  • While the crew prepare to leave, Salmin and Dr. Pensyth have come to an agreement with the Corlestans that they will stay and raise their children in the Corlestan way, ushering in a new era of tranquility and peace on Corlestan. 
  • In the final scene, Salmin and Dr. Pensyth watch the ship leave for earth, with two seats left empty. Their children Bolnft and Venderaymn play on the river bank, clapping their hands and chasing Corlestan bugs. This is the only life those children have ever known. Dr. Pensyth puts his head in Salmins lap while she plays with his hair, and they are joined by 3 of their Corlestan friends. Salmin reflects on her transition from bitter to empowered, and on the transformative powers of unprotected union, both in a personal and macro sense. 


The END

Monday, October 27, 2025

Negativity and criticism

 writing isn't as easy as its made out to be. Ideas flow easily for me, no problems there. I have experiences to draw from, but ultimately what hurts my heart more than anything is negative words and criticims. as the editor, my heart breaks when I hear a cruel word or someone reaches out with something that isn't entirely positive. I really try my best to write content that i think teaches a lesson. My last story had a lesson on healing, community, conquering difficult feelings and dealing with loss. What is there to criticize with that? but some still do, still do. 

Many people also wrote positively, so I don't forget that. To all who have issued positivity into my life, i'm am beyond grateful. The knowledge I share on reproductive and spiritual rights is demanded.. a divine compulsion that transcends legal responsibilities. Condom seeks to shield the population from awakening, seeks to normalize sex without connection, which many experts have since protested. Why? Because a subdued public is easy to manipulate. Before sharing your negativity with me (because i'm trying as hard as i can), why don't you put that energy into making a change, or actually loving freely in this world, loving with heart and being happy?

Just my thoughts

Sunday, October 26, 2025

swingers suckfest

In the warm glow of the showlights, we spun and wiggled, jived and bounced. A ten piece old-timey swing band kept time, the saxophone and trumpet trading solos while the pianist led the group to glory. While our dancing looked effortless, looking closely you could perceive a thin sheen of sweat coating each of our brows. The band finished the last song and we roared with applause, begging for just one more song - but the band had exhausted their supply of
encores. With one final bow they walked off the stage. 

I turned to look at my latest dance partner, and realized I didn't even remember having just danced with her, I had no idea who she was! We had travelled from all over North America to be here; lovers of an older style of dance got together to show up and show off. Each year, there seemed to be new faces. I chuckled to myself. The new dancers were either getting younger and younger, or my age was starting to show. Somehow these old dances whipped us into a frenzy and even one taste was enough to keep you hooked for your whole life. 

I thanked and hugged my partner and went to splash some water on my face in the bathroom. My weekly dance classes kept me in top shape. I saw the man in the mirror - there was something fierce in my face, a natural blush in my cheeks. Somehow I looked more confident than I felt. My ex-wife and I had married at 25, and we were together for 5 years before we weren't together. I won't go into details of the events that led to our separation but suffice to say after the 5th time walking in on her in our bedroom with groups of others, I decided enough was enough, and I never saw her again. 

I was fucked up - I was so angry and so betrayed because I had treasured her above everything else. After some time spent in therapy, I realized that I might not have been acting in my integrity after forgiving her the second time. When I was a child, I was terrified of my parents separating and my family falling apart. I would do everything in my power to bear the brunt of my mothers fits and my fathers anger in order to keep things together. The pain in my childhood ripped me apart, and all I could think of was resolution. Naturally, these patterns followed me in to my marriage. Don't get me wrong - we had good times, but ultimately I wanted a partner I could trust, and she took advantage of my fear and dependance to keep betraying me. 

8 years afterwards and I have grown a lot. My first couple years were agony; lonely and isolated. I decided to grow by myself before falling in love, or being intimate with another. I eschewed sex and romance, because I couldn't trust myself, couldn't trust my childhood patterns that put me in compromising positions where I tried to hold on to something comfortable that hurt me. My friends were worried about me because I shut myself off and lived in my own private world. I did honestly try and make an effort with them. My friends have always meant a lot to me, but what was the point? I, a wounded bird, would only slow down the pack. One of my closest friends, Gray, was a persistent guy. 6'7" he towered above most people. Scary, right? No. Actually he was one of the most sensitive people I've ever known. He was able to empathize and listen when all of the others had given up. Mostly to humour him, I ended up attending the swing dancing event he had been inviting me to for months. 

I shit you not, I hadn't had that much fun in years, and I became a regular. My pain began to dull, turning from an angry sore to a fading bruise until one day I woke up whole again. I put my entire heart into it. I worked my 8-4 as a consultant for the city, and afterwards I took two classes and a private lesson. Every weekday. My teachers soon saw my heart, and I started spending time with them outside of classes. This led to the situation I started my story with - an invitation to my first North American meet up of swing dancers. 

All this flashed through my mind briefly while i splashed water on my face. Wow. 8 years without sex. I can't pretend that I don't get lonely sometimes, I crank it out, but i never think about her. I get so angry my penis falls. Usually I think about things that I make up. I have a very active imagination. 

I do want to be honest in my story - it might be a lie to say that I never once engaged in intimacy. 3 years after the divorce I was drinking in one of my usual dens when a whirlwind of a night occurred and I found myself in bed with a retired broadway diva who had turned to an office after being caught up in a sexual scandal. Apparently everything they say about diva's not having the same emotional intelligence as the characters they portray is true. After the foreplay had started, I wanted to connect on a more intellectual level, and I began talking about my understanding of condoms  and the risk they pose to union. I even brought my recent clean STD tests, although I knew I had nothing to be worried about, being in good physical condition during my celibacy. I also shoot blanks. She seemed put off, and we never spoke again. Her loss. 

I walked out of the bathroom trying to avoid getting lost in my thoughts for too long. Despite being an silver fox, cool and composed on the outside, I struggle with anxiety and a slight lack of confidence. Dancing is one of my releases where I just float off and don't think. I pushed open the door to get back onto the floor. Everyone was still moving, gyrating and gliding, but to my absolute shock, they were all BUTT NAKED. The band was shadowed in a haze of smoke in the dark, blowing like crazy, while I could hear the slap of nude feet on the wooden floor from where I stood frozen in place. This had never happened before. 

At this point, my anxiety was slithering up chest and wrapping around my throat like a slimy tentacle and I almost choked. I mentioned my lack of confidence, and the first thing I thought was that I was coming across as a complete virgin. My therapist would often talk me through moments like this, where we would roleplay an encounter that wasn't part of my routine and I would react with an innate sense of power and purpose. Even my therapist couldn't have imagined this scenario though. When in Rome I guess... 

I stripped down and briefly ran my hand over my pubic hair. Slightly overgrown. Inwardly I cursed, but upon looking around, some of the fantastical bushes on these adventurous dancers made my jungle look like a well manicured lawn. I laughed and found myself a partner. We danced in circles, wildly, fervently until the music slowed down and I pressed her body against mine. Our sexes made contact, her sweaty lubricated body graciously accommodating my stiffening sex. My fingers indented lightly on her hips and lower back and I was lost to the movement and music. 

Many partners later, I took a break and went to the bathroom to relieve myself. Trying to avoid sticky patches of urine on the floor, I waited for my rigid manhood to soften, and then I spilled myself into the urinal. What the hell was happening? We had been divorced for 8 years, but was I being unfaithful to my wife? 'Ex-wife' I reminded myself. Besides, I was just dancing. With or without clothes, our bodies would be pressed close together like this anyways. I couldn't let this get to me. She had cheated on me with groups of people over and over again. Why was I overcome about some dancing? Who was I kidding, I was loving this. I rushed back out, avoidig those sticky spots one more time. 

I could hear sleazy muffled music oozing through the closed door. I opened the door ready to get back in the throes of dancing, but once again I was flabbergasted. Swing dancing had turned into a swingers suckfest!

Everywhere I looked there were dancers with body parts in their mouths.. penises, pussies, breasts... It was a veritable suckfest like I had never seen before. I froze again, anxiety rising like an unwelcomed guest. The last time I had walked in on my wife (ex-wife, dammit) she had been involved in a scene like this, but on a much smaller scale. In front of hundreds of swingers, my terror amplified, and I had to catch a hold of the smooth door handle to keep from falling over. I thought of what my therapist had told me, about channeling my anger into action as opposed to being overcome by the shame of turning your big feelings on yourself and I smiled. I wouldn't let her win this time, and speaking of big feelings, something down below was feeling big. 

Let me stop for a minute and say, that usually my low confidence prevents me from entering into spaces like this, but these were my people. Even if they were complete strangers, somehow I had sweat and bled with them before. There's a depth in swing dancing that is hard to explain to those who've never touched that delirious state after dancing for hours. So yes, I rushed in to join them. 

Engulfed by a warm wet mouth after 8 years. 8 years of isolation and loneliness, I exorcised my pain, excruciating as it was, I chose me. I chose pleasure. In those first moments, I realised that I had just expunged and expulsed something evil that I hadn't been able to shake, even after therapy at it's most vulnerable points. Sometimes you just need to live. You can work as much as you want on yourself, but sometimes the only way to heal is to live. to LIVE! I quickly engulfed something else, and i felt a nipple harden in arousal with the inside of my lips. We switched places so many times that night. My body reacting to the touching, to the music, to the feel of sweat and skin. I was enflamed. Life. To experience is to triumph, to feel is to create. Overcome by the sheer joy of it all I came and came. Hungry mouths gobbled my fluids, and I assumed theirs, swelling dangerously. 

I was still hard, so I flipped my partner around skillfully, and her with a flourish pressed back against me. I started - I was so caught up in the magic of it all that I didn't have my STD tests on me. I was clean but I couldn't wear a condom for ideological reasons. I told my partner this, and she laughed, tickling my ear with her tongue. Pussy oozing like an industrial soft serve machine, she took my rigidity and slid me inside her. We twisted and pirouetted in tandem. I slipped from her, and slid into another. Many people, too many to count. She was just one person. She held power over me because I couldn't be powerful for myself. She was just one person. I was free now. 

Exploding in a trance. Cum like a fountain. I was once a stone. I will be a stream, an ecosystem, a language. I burry my face in my hands and slide out. I can choose. I will never wear a condom, I will never submit my heart to someone I don't understand and who doesn't feel like family. 

I believe in myself. I trust myeslf. I can grow. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 

Sunday, September 21, 2025

Fall Reflections

 Today marks a change in the season; summer to fall. As I walked up the hill to my house, I was overcome by a sense of melancholy so strong. Distraught I kept my head low and silently called for freedom from the present. This blog has been inactive for a large part of the summer, and I regret now my inactivity. Since the inception of LWR I've grown up, but in some ways my day to day feels duller and heavier. This past summer has taken its toll on me emotionally. I'm a wreck, and I can't breathe sometimes from the
weight of indecisions. 

Having said that, how could I take charge, be a leader for others, when I haven't been able to lead myself? I keep walking forwards every day, but I don't know which direction these steps are taking me. I'm not proud or ashamed, it's just been the reality, that joy doesn't show up as quickly or steadily, and criticism arrives before curiosity...

I'm now going to share a number of thoughts I've had this summer:

- Hybrid drivers are more likely to use condoms. I support hybrids and electric vehicles, but this is undeniable

- Covid did a lot more damage then we give it credit for. Although I supported masking, I think ultimately it gave the government leverage to press the condom agenda and for it to be more widely accepted. This paradigm shift after 2020 was catastrophic for the freedom movement. Again, I do not think covid was on purpose, but how it has been used is devastating 

- Arousal is important for adult development and growth

on suppression, rage and masking. A Naturalists perspective on the relation between emotional repression and the so called ‘protected’ modes of fornication

 From an early age many of us learn that no one is truly a safe space for us to be ourselves fully around. Sometimes we learn from family th...