Well, hoorah for this!
http://creativeconsultationsca.blogspot.com/
Have fun with it!
Showing posts with label allowance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label allowance. Show all posts
Saturday, 19 November 2011
Thursday, 10 November 2011
Tales for folks...
Most North Americans know the story of The Little Red Hen as a child's folktale. It's also a relevant metaphor for relationsugars. I mean, why else are women referred to as "chicks"...
Taken directly from Wikipedia's article about the story (for those of you who've not yet mastered google or decutive reasoning and because we all know that Wikipedia is such a reliable source of information): "The moral of this story is that those who show no willingness to contribute to an end product do not deserve to enjoy the end product"
http://www.enchantedlearning.com/stories/fairytale/littleredhen/story/
Taken directly from Wikipedia's article about the story (for those of you who've not yet mastered google or decutive reasoning and because we all know that Wikipedia is such a reliable source of information): "The moral of this story is that those who show no willingness to contribute to an end product do not deserve to enjoy the end product"
http://www.enchantedlearning.com/stories/fairytale/littleredhen/story/
Monday, 31 October 2011
A Final Gem
Ladies, Sugar Boys, let me leave you with this: If you've not been paid, nobody gets laid.
This includes sexting, dirty pictures, handjobs, etc. etc. etc. Who is gonna buy the cow if you can just read all about it on the Internet for free? It's similar to the Christian mandate of no sex till marriage.
Prostitutes get paid to grind sex organs, strippers get paid to grind their titties in someone's face, cam/chat girls/boys get paid to share their saucy details. Sugar babes get paid to spend time getting to know their sugar daddy/mama and if s/he doesn't care about your level of comfort sexually, s/he just doesn't care about your level of comfort on any level and no sense believing otherwise.
This includes sexting, dirty pictures, handjobs, etc. etc. etc. Who is gonna buy the cow if you can just read all about it on the Internet for free? It's similar to the Christian mandate of no sex till marriage.
Prostitutes get paid to grind sex organs, strippers get paid to grind their titties in someone's face, cam/chat girls/boys get paid to share their saucy details. Sugar babes get paid to spend time getting to know their sugar daddy/mama and if s/he doesn't care about your level of comfort sexually, s/he just doesn't care about your level of comfort on any level and no sense believing otherwise.
Time is Money: Reprise
Y'all might think it rude of me to refer you to my blog rather than repeat all of these themes and words through a personal e-mail. But let's look at this realistically.
The last time I looked at the stats, my profile here had had about 100 views. So, that is only the people who have bothered to check it out, of all the people who have expressed an interest in checking me out. So, who knows how many people I have referred here, with time I could deliver those numbers. But as it rests, we can know for sure about the hundred who have come to the blog (and looked at my profile).
At 100 suitors: if I gave you each five minutes, (usually repeating what my ad/profile already made clear ;) regardless of whether you can meet my needs, which is pretty accurate cuz I rarely just send the blog with no other chatter when I respond to your e-mail/flirt, etc. Some of you know I have spent hours chatting with you in type. So, as a starting point, look at 5 minutes x 100... it's 8 1/3 hours. At an hour each, 100 hours. That's 2.5 weeks of full time work. With no reward. I've talked to far more than a hundred people for sure. And I would imagine that you kept typing at me because you liked the good feelings you got from my responses. Actually I don't have to imagine, I have heard it from you directly.
Fellas, I'll just be brutally honest, I'm not looking for a sugar daddy because I have time to spare, to entertain for free. At least with the blog, I have a product. And that just isn't true of a year spent sending private messages ;) Why a person would keep me chatting when they have no means or intentions to meet my need$, in exchange for the love and attention I bring to the table, is a lil beyond me. Mayhap it's an "if I can't have you, I can keep you busy so no one else can have you either" kinda thing, I openly admit I have no idea how the petty mind works ;)
And, despite having nothing left to give, the blog remains at your disposal, long after my Internet connection gets cut off. If at any time through our communications, in blog or in person, you have felt any relief from the loneliness that my time and attention has given you, even in having had someone to talk to about all of this, now would be the time to say thank you with an e-transfer donation to acknowledge my time. Either way, knowledge is power, do with it what you will!!
Be well Sugars, it's been a slice and a half ;)
The last time I looked at the stats, my profile here had had about 100 views. So, that is only the people who have bothered to check it out, of all the people who have expressed an interest in checking me out. So, who knows how many people I have referred here, with time I could deliver those numbers. But as it rests, we can know for sure about the hundred who have come to the blog (and looked at my profile).
At 100 suitors: if I gave you each five minutes, (usually repeating what my ad/profile already made clear ;) regardless of whether you can meet my needs, which is pretty accurate cuz I rarely just send the blog with no other chatter when I respond to your e-mail/flirt, etc. Some of you know I have spent hours chatting with you in type. So, as a starting point, look at 5 minutes x 100... it's 8 1/3 hours. At an hour each, 100 hours. That's 2.5 weeks of full time work. With no reward. I've talked to far more than a hundred people for sure. And I would imagine that you kept typing at me because you liked the good feelings you got from my responses. Actually I don't have to imagine, I have heard it from you directly.
Fellas, I'll just be brutally honest, I'm not looking for a sugar daddy because I have time to spare, to entertain for free. At least with the blog, I have a product. And that just isn't true of a year spent sending private messages ;) Why a person would keep me chatting when they have no means or intentions to meet my need$, in exchange for the love and attention I bring to the table, is a lil beyond me. Mayhap it's an "if I can't have you, I can keep you busy so no one else can have you either" kinda thing, I openly admit I have no idea how the petty mind works ;)
And, despite having nothing left to give, the blog remains at your disposal, long after my Internet connection gets cut off. If at any time through our communications, in blog or in person, you have felt any relief from the loneliness that my time and attention has given you, even in having had someone to talk to about all of this, now would be the time to say thank you with an e-transfer donation to acknowledge my time. Either way, knowledge is power, do with it what you will!!
Be well Sugars, it's been a slice and a half ;)
What's a Google?
Google is probably the largest search engine on the Internet. An example of brand popularity influencing the language, like "Kleenex" or "Bandaid"; to "google" something means to look it up on a search engine on the Internet.
A quick "google" search for "sugar relationship" yielded "About 202,000,000 results (0.15 seconds)". I have my doubts that the School of Sugar blog made the count but here it is, hand delivered ;)
I think it's safe to say that if you don't know what you're responding to, a lil research goes a long way toward not making you look lazy, lol. And there's the whole thing about not wasting your time if you're not into "BDSM, SGM, BBW, or any other brand of relationship" in the first place.
Napoleon Dynamite was right, girls only want guys who have good skills ;)
A quick "google" search for "sugar relationship" yielded "About 202,000,000 results (0.15 seconds)". I have my doubts that the School of Sugar blog made the count but here it is, hand delivered ;)
I think it's safe to say that if you don't know what you're responding to, a lil research goes a long way toward not making you look lazy, lol. And there's the whole thing about not wasting your time if you're not into "BDSM, SGM, BBW, or any other brand of relationship" in the first place.
Napoleon Dynamite was right, girls only want guys who have good skills ;)
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Perception vs Reality: What's Your Perception On This Reality?
Welcome back, sugar lovers... and haters. Now, there are lots of things I am unsure of on this crazy planet. I don't understand the science behind rockets and planes and brain surgery. I'm not great with the plants. I only know English, and only moderately at that. I'm entirely unsure why anyone would keep a rodent or reptile as a pet. And I'm definitely not sure someone would be on a sugar dating site if they didn't want a sugar relationship and hated the entire dating scene in general. I mean, you don't accidentally sign up to fetlife, not knowing what it is or having an interest, no matter how peripheral, in alternative sexual lifestyles. Or black christian singles, you don't sign up there if you run the local chapter of the KKK in your town. It's just common sense.
Without further preface let me present this fairly recent conversation. Which, may I point out to all y'all who just think I wanna be right, and all the rest who are actually interested in the psychology of these human interactions we're all having, met my goal of getting another hit on the blog. Lol, bad press is still press. Shit, the site I met this gentleman on, was on the Tyra show and she was shittin' alllll over it. How many new subscribers since that little plug I wonder. Anyway, I present thee some words exchanged:
"PS": Please check out my profile to see if you might be interested in connecting with me! (This is an automated message, a "flirt" or a "wink" or a "kiss" or a "poke" style interaction)
Moi: Hey, hey M__,
Impressive number of words :) Check out my blog about sugar life, it has even more info than my profile ;) Www.schoolofsugar.blogspot.com
"PS": Well, guess what? Men have cost of living expenses too, and in any relationship with a woman, we're expected to pay for whatever we do together (dinners, trips, etc.) And yet, women demand equal pay, and so on. Your blog smacks of the idea that you, as a woman, are giving something up - as though you are not getting anything from the relationship, and sex. That is repugnant to me. I don't want to be with a woman who doesn't want to be with me, except for my wallet. You talk about self-esteem. I submit that spreading your legs for an allowance is indicative of a lack of self-esteem. I further submit that any man who pays for sex is also lacking self-esteem. And yet we do pay, in a less direct way. That's because our social conventions don't require women to be financially successful for us to admire them. The same is not true the other way around. Women look for men of means - providers. That's a big part of why women tend to be with men who are older than them. Any anthropology, sociology, or history book will tell you that. It's instinctive, and I could talk about that for days. But it comes down to this: sex and/or companionship for money is prostitution. I have no ethical or moral objections to it, but it's not for me. Wanting a guy who makes a decent living is another thing entirely.
Moi: Whoops, hit a few chords, huh? It's okay, I get that a lot.
Arrangement means what it means. I did not design the system or the world we're operating in, just a messenger. If I want chemistry with a man who can take care of me, too, that is my "fucking" prerogative.
if you don't like the game, don't play it but it IS the point of this website. Try POF it's a great resource!
Good luck and thanks for the feedback!
"PS": Your blog is offensive. It paints both men and women in a negative light. You denigrate women who want to have sexual relationships with men without being paid - saying they lack self-esteem. But in reality, they don't see themselves as just sexual objects. You, on the other hand, see your body, and sex, as some sort of one sided thing that is deserving of payment. You paint women as doing everything in life to be pleasing to men, without any sort of worthiness outside of that, and men as only being worthy because of money. It's disgusting. There are lots of women on this site who don't share your views, and I have had some good times, and ongoing friendships. Your attitude is the most cold and calculating that I've encountered. Frankly, it's delusional and disturbing. I have no doubt about your saying "I get that a lot". Not surprising. Some of us make our way in the world by doing something worthwhile. Apparently, you make your way in the world on your back, or in front of a mirror, and riding the achievements of others. Where's the self-esteem in that?
Moi: If you're offended by reality there is no way I can help you. Likewise on acting abusively when you don't like the answer.
I wish you the best and thank you for your feedback, please feel free to include your comments on the blog but please stop emailing me.
"PS": It has nothing to do with reality. It has everything to do with perception of reality, and your own place in the universe. Yours is fucked up, arrogant, and destructive. Your approach is ruthless, and devoid of any kind of warmth - decidedly unfeminine. Your profile hints at it, but your blog makes it abundantly clear. You're a disgusting individual who should seek therapy. Someday, the mirror won't be so kind to you. What then? Outer beauty only goes so far. Inner beauty is what really matters, and that, you are sorely lacking.
Without further preface let me present this fairly recent conversation. Which, may I point out to all y'all who just think I wanna be right, and all the rest who are actually interested in the psychology of these human interactions we're all having, met my goal of getting another hit on the blog. Lol, bad press is still press. Shit, the site I met this gentleman on, was on the Tyra show and she was shittin' alllll over it. How many new subscribers since that little plug I wonder. Anyway, I present thee some words exchanged:
"PS": Please check out my profile to see if you might be interested in connecting with me! (This is an automated message, a "flirt" or a "wink" or a "kiss" or a "poke" style interaction)
Moi: Hey, hey M__,
Impressive number of words :) Check out my blog about sugar life, it has even more info than my profile ;) Www.schoolofsugar.blogspot.com
"PS": Well, guess what? Men have cost of living expenses too, and in any relationship with a woman, we're expected to pay for whatever we do together (dinners, trips, etc.) And yet, women demand equal pay, and so on. Your blog smacks of the idea that you, as a woman, are giving something up - as though you are not getting anything from the relationship, and sex. That is repugnant to me. I don't want to be with a woman who doesn't want to be with me, except for my wallet. You talk about self-esteem. I submit that spreading your legs for an allowance is indicative of a lack of self-esteem. I further submit that any man who pays for sex is also lacking self-esteem. And yet we do pay, in a less direct way. That's because our social conventions don't require women to be financially successful for us to admire them. The same is not true the other way around. Women look for men of means - providers. That's a big part of why women tend to be with men who are older than them. Any anthropology, sociology, or history book will tell you that. It's instinctive, and I could talk about that for days. But it comes down to this: sex and/or companionship for money is prostitution. I have no ethical or moral objections to it, but it's not for me. Wanting a guy who makes a decent living is another thing entirely.
Moi: Whoops, hit a few chords, huh? It's okay, I get that a lot.
Arrangement means what it means. I did not design the system or the world we're operating in, just a messenger. If I want chemistry with a man who can take care of me, too, that is my "fucking" prerogative.
if you don't like the game, don't play it but it IS the point of this website. Try POF it's a great resource!
Good luck and thanks for the feedback!
"PS": Your blog is offensive. It paints both men and women in a negative light. You denigrate women who want to have sexual relationships with men without being paid - saying they lack self-esteem. But in reality, they don't see themselves as just sexual objects. You, on the other hand, see your body, and sex, as some sort of one sided thing that is deserving of payment. You paint women as doing everything in life to be pleasing to men, without any sort of worthiness outside of that, and men as only being worthy because of money. It's disgusting. There are lots of women on this site who don't share your views, and I have had some good times, and ongoing friendships. Your attitude is the most cold and calculating that I've encountered. Frankly, it's delusional and disturbing. I have no doubt about your saying "I get that a lot". Not surprising. Some of us make our way in the world by doing something worthwhile. Apparently, you make your way in the world on your back, or in front of a mirror, and riding the achievements of others. Where's the self-esteem in that?
Moi: If you're offended by reality there is no way I can help you. Likewise on acting abusively when you don't like the answer.
I wish you the best and thank you for your feedback, please feel free to include your comments on the blog but please stop emailing me.
"PS": It has nothing to do with reality. It has everything to do with perception of reality, and your own place in the universe. Yours is fucked up, arrogant, and destructive. Your approach is ruthless, and devoid of any kind of warmth - decidedly unfeminine. Your profile hints at it, but your blog makes it abundantly clear. You're a disgusting individual who should seek therapy. Someday, the mirror won't be so kind to you. What then? Outer beauty only goes so far. Inner beauty is what really matters, and that, you are sorely lacking.
Lmao, As If This Will Be The Last Word On This One
The glossary grows...
"Arriving at a workable definition of what is prostitution is very difficult, since not even the government can agree on what exactly constitutes the offence. Prostitution is the exchange of sexual favours for money or other material goods, devoid of any emotional involvement."
Source:
http://web.viu.ca/crim/Student/Sturdy.htm
Great essay!
Taking a girl to dinner does not make you a sugar daddy. Alternately, on the same side of the coin, paying an, or any, girl to fuck you does not make you a sugar daddy.
"Arriving at a workable definition of what is prostitution is very difficult, since not even the government can agree on what exactly constitutes the offence. Prostitution is the exchange of sexual favours for money or other material goods, devoid of any emotional involvement."
Source:
http://web.viu.ca/crim/Student/Sturdy.htm
Great essay!
Taking a girl to dinner does not make you a sugar daddy. Alternately, on the same side of the coin, paying an, or any, girl to fuck you does not make you a sugar daddy.
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
Grey Areas That Are Black and White
In our continuous efforts to clearly define what it is we are here in Sugar Land after, let's throw down into the glossary of terms again.
On a technicality, relationsugars do qualify as sex trade industry. But on that same technicality, so is marriage. In fact, marriage is the biggest prostitution scam going. Ladies, you know what I am talking about on this one. Good Sirs, you also know what I am talkin' about on this one.
Ad nauseum, at this point, but allow me to present the difference between a standard hooker and a sugar babe.
With the lady of the night, she tells you, "greek, g.f.e., msog", you present her fee, she presents her sweet lady bits. As long as you wear a condom and don't try to rape her, you WILL "get some". It's a for sure thing, money for sex.
On the other hand, a sugar babe agrees to sell you her time. Time is not sex. It might become time spent sexually but ultimately it's a part time hot girlfriend role-play until it's determined that you are a qualified sugar daddy whom she can trust and count on. You're simply getting the chance to spend time with her. Yes, to see if you're going to knock boots, but the only sure thing is that you will spend time together for money. And if she can't count on you for the coin, there shan't be any booty shared.
And again... "pay per visit" is prostitute lexicon, not something a sugar babe can "count on".
On a technicality, relationsugars do qualify as sex trade industry. But on that same technicality, so is marriage. In fact, marriage is the biggest prostitution scam going. Ladies, you know what I am talking about on this one. Good Sirs, you also know what I am talkin' about on this one.
Ad nauseum, at this point, but allow me to present the difference between a standard hooker and a sugar babe.
With the lady of the night, she tells you, "greek, g.f.e., msog", you present her fee, she presents her sweet lady bits. As long as you wear a condom and don't try to rape her, you WILL "get some". It's a for sure thing, money for sex.
On the other hand, a sugar babe agrees to sell you her time. Time is not sex. It might become time spent sexually but ultimately it's a part time hot girlfriend role-play until it's determined that you are a qualified sugar daddy whom she can trust and count on. You're simply getting the chance to spend time with her. Yes, to see if you're going to knock boots, but the only sure thing is that you will spend time together for money. And if she can't count on you for the coin, there shan't be any booty shared.
And again... "pay per visit" is prostitute lexicon, not something a sugar babe can "count on".
Vulnerability
"SOS, please someone help me"... let us address the obvious today!
Whether it's obvious or not (apparently more often ;), let us bring to the forefront what a relationsugar really is. Guys are looking for companionship and sex, the ladies are looking to be taken care of financially in exchange for that affection. It is negligent and ignorant to assume otherwise.
Soooo, let me spell it out a little further. Women are vulnerable by design. And when a woman is looking for a sugar daddy it is because she is experiencing some financial vulnerability, too. And acknowledging that openly. She'll still be vulnerable if she doesn't have to stress about rent. She just won't be stressed anymore. And you get to enjoy that stress free version of this lovely little thing.
Whether she is a single mom, a student, a business owner or someone with a chronic illness (lots of them don't show on the surface so you can't make assumptions based on the cover of the book) she is openly admitting that she needs some help to get by. Therefore she has acknowledged her vulnerability and there is no need to make her prove it. I understand that you're just trying to gauge whether or not she would be open, receptive and vulnerable sexually but that will ONLY come about if you can meet her needs financially (assuming chemistry of course). Stress relief exchange. Exchange!!
Granted there are some women in this for the wrong reasons, IMHO, but who am I to say that a life of Louis Vitton and W Hotels is a bad thing in exchange for being pretty. But in reality, most of the women I have talked to regarding sugar life are genuinely kind, hard working women who're kinda fucked financially and just trying to get by in this crazy world we livin' in. Just like the men, only our needs are a little different.
But yes, she is "using" you for your money, just as you are "using" her because she has tittays. Sure, it's not all that glib, if you're not interested in each other fundamentally it will never get to the usership we've come here to engage in. But illusions that a relationsugar is anything more than a very clearly defined exchange are simply a waste of everyone's time.
Soooo, just like you're not entertaining women who are looking for a husband/baby daddy, don't be insulted when she doesn't want to entertain a man who can't meet her needs financially. Time is money, and wasting time chatting with a woman who wants to get married and babied up is not a good investment of your time if you're just looking for a booty call. So, why would a woman want to continue to "chat" if you're not in her budget range???? It's not personal, it's based on an honest awareness of one's needs. Which includes not having an abundance of time to waste ;)
And while it can be disturbing to address the reality that women are far more vulnerable to sexual exploit, it is crucial to be aware that there are Jeffrey Dahmers and Robert Picktons in this world. Ladies, YOU need to keep yourself safe. Not paranoid, simply aware. That you are a delicate little flower and need be handled with care at all times. Gentlemen, YOU need to be aware that she needs to feels safe, cuz she's a delicate little flower that needs to be handled with care at all times who wants to blossom.
It's just real, not anything to get overwhelmed about. Misogyny is rampant in our society. Relationsugaring addresses that imbalance by adding the levener* that actually enables a "mutually beneficial arrangement". We're here because we are doing things differently. Or maybe you're lost on the Internet ;P
*levener is a cooking term (but this is chemistry, too so it's apt ;) : substances used in doughs and batters that cause a foaming action which lightens and softens the finished product
Whether it's obvious or not (apparently more often ;), let us bring to the forefront what a relationsugar really is. Guys are looking for companionship and sex, the ladies are looking to be taken care of financially in exchange for that affection. It is negligent and ignorant to assume otherwise.
Soooo, let me spell it out a little further. Women are vulnerable by design. And when a woman is looking for a sugar daddy it is because she is experiencing some financial vulnerability, too. And acknowledging that openly. She'll still be vulnerable if she doesn't have to stress about rent. She just won't be stressed anymore. And you get to enjoy that stress free version of this lovely little thing.
Whether she is a single mom, a student, a business owner or someone with a chronic illness (lots of them don't show on the surface so you can't make assumptions based on the cover of the book) she is openly admitting that she needs some help to get by. Therefore she has acknowledged her vulnerability and there is no need to make her prove it. I understand that you're just trying to gauge whether or not she would be open, receptive and vulnerable sexually but that will ONLY come about if you can meet her needs financially (assuming chemistry of course). Stress relief exchange. Exchange!!
Granted there are some women in this for the wrong reasons, IMHO, but who am I to say that a life of Louis Vitton and W Hotels is a bad thing in exchange for being pretty. But in reality, most of the women I have talked to regarding sugar life are genuinely kind, hard working women who're kinda fucked financially and just trying to get by in this crazy world we livin' in. Just like the men, only our needs are a little different.
But yes, she is "using" you for your money, just as you are "using" her because she has tittays. Sure, it's not all that glib, if you're not interested in each other fundamentally it will never get to the usership we've come here to engage in. But illusions that a relationsugar is anything more than a very clearly defined exchange are simply a waste of everyone's time.
Soooo, just like you're not entertaining women who are looking for a husband/baby daddy, don't be insulted when she doesn't want to entertain a man who can't meet her needs financially. Time is money, and wasting time chatting with a woman who wants to get married and babied up is not a good investment of your time if you're just looking for a booty call. So, why would a woman want to continue to "chat" if you're not in her budget range???? It's not personal, it's based on an honest awareness of one's needs. Which includes not having an abundance of time to waste ;)
And while it can be disturbing to address the reality that women are far more vulnerable to sexual exploit, it is crucial to be aware that there are Jeffrey Dahmers and Robert Picktons in this world. Ladies, YOU need to keep yourself safe. Not paranoid, simply aware. That you are a delicate little flower and need be handled with care at all times. Gentlemen, YOU need to be aware that she needs to feels safe, cuz she's a delicate little flower that needs to be handled with care at all times who wants to blossom.
It's just real, not anything to get overwhelmed about. Misogyny is rampant in our society. Relationsugaring addresses that imbalance by adding the levener* that actually enables a "mutually beneficial arrangement". We're here because we are doing things differently. Or maybe you're lost on the Internet ;P
*levener is a cooking term (but this is chemistry, too so it's apt ;) : substances used in doughs and batters that cause a foaming action which lightens and softens the finished product
Monday, 24 October 2011
This Is Not A Simulation
This, friends and well-wishers, is a real conversation I had with a man whom I believe honestly believes he is sugar material. I'll openly acknowledge that it was probably a lil bit mean to toy with him and play on words with an individual who sincerely just isn't "gettin' it". But if you have any sense of humour at all, you will easily see how I couldn't resist the lil bit of good natured fun that it was. I can't blame TV but maybe if it was more entertaining I wouldn't be so easily amused by hilarious word exchanges with randoms from the internet.
The "here sugar, sugar" advertisement he responded to asked for these specifics: male 30-50, a photo and budget/expectations.
I tried to keep it simple. General literacy and manners can be determined from the response itself, I felt listing those prerequisites would only add confusion. I'll post the ad, too, if you're interested in further applied psychology behind presentation in the sugar arena. There will be a post befo' too long about photos. But for now, this is an actual conversation, presented as it happened, in response to that ad. I just mean, I could write shit this good, but I really couldn't write shit this good. Enjoy!
"Potential Suitor": Hey how it going. I am 20. I am willing to take u out for dinner and help u out when anyway u need. I not looking for a one night stand. I want an ongoing thing
The "here sugar, sugar" advertisement he responded to asked for these specifics: male 30-50, a photo and budget/expectations.
I tried to keep it simple. General literacy and manners can be determined from the response itself, I felt listing those prerequisites would only add confusion. I'll post the ad, too, if you're interested in further applied psychology behind presentation in the sugar arena. There will be a post befo' too long about photos. But for now, this is an actual conversation, presented as it happened, in response to that ad. I just mean, I could write shit this good, but I really couldn't write shit this good. Enjoy!
Moi: Fantastic, I definitely have an $8000 bill I need to cover! Lol, I don't mean to be rude but I'm not sure you fully understand my post on cl. Taking me out for dinner is a given, relationsugar or regular boyfriend ;) but I'm looking for a relationsugar specifically this time around ;)
AND you didn't include a photo...
"PS": Hey. Sorry. I'd give u 300 towards it. [Includes photo w response]
Moi: For dinner? Done deal! When would you like to dine?
"PS": Dinner and 300. Or just dinner. Do I get a pc
"PS": Dinner and 300. Or just dinner. Do I get a pc [yes, he sent it again]
"PS": When u free
Moi: Lol, both... And I'll explain what a relationsugar is to you for free ;) I have time tomorrow, maybe early Friday evening depending on work.
"PS": Sounds good. As long as we get to havge fun after
Moi: ... Lol, lol... As I said initially, it's apparent you didn't fully understand my post ;) good luck w the reading comprehension and the dating game :)
"PS": O:(
"PS": I no what it is. It just last time I give a girl 400. I never got laid or anything out of it. That why I won't give large amounts out at once. Can u send a pc
"PS": I no what it is. It just last time I give a girl 400. I never got laid or anything out of it. That why I won't give large amounts out at once. Can u send a pc [yes, he sent it again]
AND you didn't include a photo...
"PS": Hey. Sorry. I'd give u 300 towards it. [Includes photo w response]
Moi: For dinner? Done deal! When would you like to dine?
"PS": Dinner and 300. Or just dinner. Do I get a pc
"PS": Dinner and 300. Or just dinner. Do I get a pc [yes, he sent it again]
"PS": When u free
Moi: Lol, both... And I'll explain what a relationsugar is to you for free ;) I have time tomorrow, maybe early Friday evening depending on work.
"PS": Sounds good. As long as we get to havge fun after
Moi: ... Lol, lol... As I said initially, it's apparent you didn't fully understand my post ;) good luck w the reading comprehension and the dating game :)
"PS": O:(
"PS": I no what it is. It just last time I give a girl 400. I never got laid or anything out of it. That why I won't give large amounts out at once. Can u send a pc
"PS": I no what it is. It just last time I give a girl 400. I never got laid or anything out of it. That why I won't give large amounts out at once. Can u send a pc [yes, he sent it again]
Moi: You're confusing prostitute with sugar baby. Check out my blog SOS www.schoolofsugar.blogspot.com I'll blog about this in more detail when I have time but time is money, so ya jus' goan hafta wait I s'pose!
K, I shan't talk again so soon about expecting sex, a la Pro Contract, when you offer to take a potential sugar babe out for dinner and offer some cash to acknowledge her time and get your foot in the door by letting her know you were serious. So, I'll talk about the fact that if you see $400 as a "large amount"... um, perhaps sugaring isn't for you and you'd be better off as a Thoughtful Lover who spoils his lady friend with a spa day every once in a while.
I will address the fact that I was a fun bitch about it, rather than just let it go. But I've been told I'm a bitch for walking away when I show up for a first meeting and the person at the table isn't the person from the picture exchange. Whether because they used a fake picture entirely or because it was ten years old. Lying is totally unnecessary in a relationsugar and I won't waste more time on someone who has already wasted my time not being honest. And with any contract, language use is of utmost importance. So, I was playin' on words, cuz it's fun.
And I will address the fact that we now we all have the opportunity to explore these themes together, too. Like the idea that if a woman asks for a few simple things to help screen out "potential" from "unqualified", she's committing preliminary testing for incongruencies and has asked for those details on purpose because...
*while men may generally receive very few responses from women on the internet, a woman generally doesn't even need to be hot in any traditional sense to get a barrage of attention from claimants. Time is money...
*in Sugar Land, everyone claims to be affluent. Time for money is the only way she can know you're for "real" real, not for "play" play.
*women really do need to exercise a lot more caution when meeting strangers. Especially when the pretenses are sexual.
Not only was this particular respondent waaaayyyyy out of the age range in the wrong direction, he neglected to define his budget/expectations, as well as include a photo. 0/3, that's actually 0/5, with manners and literacy all in... what's a girl to do with that?
And his claim was that he would "help out when anyway [I] need". So, I called him on that (not even sure how to interpret those word strings*), knowing that he wasn't even qualified to be on the internet, let alone responding to live humans via said media. Lol, perhaps that was a little harsh but with all due respect, B, my email status does say "Can't say I didn't warn ya!"
If you can't make good on some information, she won't be willing to believe you will make good on the rest. And you will be cut from tryouts. Doubly if you throw a hissy fit (whiny, abusive or otherwise) when presented with the fact that you've yet to reveal the information she's asked for, so she's not willing to believe you will come through on the rest. Actions speak louder than words but a clever sort can always filter the words for the forthcoming interactions she can expect.
K, I shan't talk again so soon about expecting sex, a la Pro Contract, when you offer to take a potential sugar babe out for dinner and offer some cash to acknowledge her time and get your foot in the door by letting her know you were serious. So, I'll talk about the fact that if you see $400 as a "large amount"... um, perhaps sugaring isn't for you and you'd be better off as a Thoughtful Lover who spoils his lady friend with a spa day every once in a while.
I will address the fact that I was a fun bitch about it, rather than just let it go. But I've been told I'm a bitch for walking away when I show up for a first meeting and the person at the table isn't the person from the picture exchange. Whether because they used a fake picture entirely or because it was ten years old. Lying is totally unnecessary in a relationsugar and I won't waste more time on someone who has already wasted my time not being honest. And with any contract, language use is of utmost importance. So, I was playin' on words, cuz it's fun.
And I will address the fact that we now we all have the opportunity to explore these themes together, too. Like the idea that if a woman asks for a few simple things to help screen out "potential" from "unqualified", she's committing preliminary testing for incongruencies and has asked for those details on purpose because...
*while men may generally receive very few responses from women on the internet, a woman generally doesn't even need to be hot in any traditional sense to get a barrage of attention from claimants. Time is money...
*in Sugar Land, everyone claims to be affluent. Time for money is the only way she can know you're for "real" real, not for "play" play.
*women really do need to exercise a lot more caution when meeting strangers. Especially when the pretenses are sexual.
Not only was this particular respondent waaaayyyyy out of the age range in the wrong direction, he neglected to define his budget/expectations, as well as include a photo. 0/3, that's actually 0/5, with manners and literacy all in... what's a girl to do with that?
And his claim was that he would "help out when anyway [I] need". So, I called him on that (not even sure how to interpret those word strings*), knowing that he wasn't even qualified to be on the internet, let alone responding to live humans via said media. Lol, perhaps that was a little harsh but with all due respect, B, my email status does say "Can't say I didn't warn ya!"
If you can't make good on some information, she won't be willing to believe you will make good on the rest. And you will be cut from tryouts. Doubly if you throw a hissy fit (whiny, abusive or otherwise) when presented with the fact that you've yet to reveal the information she's asked for, so she's not willing to believe you will come through on the rest. Actions speak louder than words but a clever sort can always filter the words for the forthcoming interactions she can expect.
Sunday, 25 September 2011
Oh Yay, It's Story Time!!
Once upon a time, way back in the day, there was a world much different than ours. Though in objective reality, it was pretty much the same but I digress... Once upon a time, according to some legends, we were hairier and much more primitive. We lived in caves and had rudimentary language with which to express our intentions. It was strictly a game of survival of the fittest. Or surviving makes you the fittest, however that shakes down.
So, one day, back in the day, a young male of the species awoke earlier than the rest of the group piled together for warmth overnight. He lay there listening to the pterodactyls or magpies. The accounts are sketchy so it could have been a coyote he heard calling out. Opening his eyes he surveyed his existence. It wasn't so bad, sleeping in the huddle but it wasn't so great either. His cost benefit analysis left him unsatisfied.
Naturally he could only feel these concepts because the language wasn't there to help him define what his physiology was trying to express. But when he looked up at the cave where the alpha slept and imagined the coziness and the ease that might come with it, he knew what he had to do. He had to upstage that motherfucker, plain and simple. He drifted back to sleep, easier in his mind.
Later he awoke with the business of surviving well under way and he got some looks and grunts of dissatisfaction from the rest of the group. He knew he'd overslept and that as far as surviving goes, that was a good way not to survive. He finally understood the relationship between discipline and getting into that warm cave up there out of the wind. The revelation of the early morning came rushing back to him and he set out about his tasks with a boundless energy.
Watching him, his group replaced their pouty faces with contented expressions. This was the contract, and they were happy he was back on board. But as the day wore on a question plagued the young male. 'WHY do I want to usurp the cave? The alpha is awesome...' It was great to be taken care of and part of this collection of survivalists. He had a place, it was all figured out and he didn't have to worry about it.
He began watching his people carefully. Grunt, grunt, gesture, gesture. 'What the hell am I even looking for?' And then he saw it, everyone had their place, not just him! Even that mystical one that makes cave drawings a few counties over. There was even someone to deliver the Cave Fried Chicken to the mystical one. He'd gone once and it was really cool. But again I digress.
His gaze happened upon some young females doing their thing to keep the group alive. He felt so much joy and admiration for their contributions. He really liked that feeling. But when he looked back at the other males some of it disappeared. He still felt gratitude but some of the glow went away. Looking back toward the females his eyes fell upon one in particular and it finally came to him. 'I want to drag HER off into that cozy cave and fuck the shit out of her. I want to wrap her hairy legs around my neck and make her scream with ecstasy. I want to be in a tangle of legs and arms, by the fire, under a wooly mammoth skin, smelling her and feeling her next to me. I want that bitch to be my cave baby mama... how in the world am I ever going to get her to love me?'
Over the next few days, he rattled all of this new information around in his head. He knew he couldn't express it to her in words because "Grunt, grunt, gesture, gesture" could be interpreted a lot of ways. Finally, it hit him. The only way he could express to her his intentions to kill a wooly mammoth and take over the role of alpha, cave and all, was to do it. If he tried to communicate it with language she'd simply smile and nod, before walking away. He didn't want to trick her or have to resort to bashing her over the head and raping her before she came to. He wanted her to pick him cuz he was the biggest and strongest and most capable of taking care of her and their cave babies...
He drifted off to sleep that night with his hand resting gently on her ankle. Or at least he was pretty sure it was her ankle. He knew he'd touched her many times but it hadn't meant anything before. Now he wanted to feel her and for her to feel him. He was glad for the opportunity to give her his touch, even if was just her ankle. But he knew he wanted more. He wanted her all to himself and the only way to do that was to elevate her to Queen status so she would be able to devote her time and attention to him. As worker bees, this ankle action was the most he could hope to give to or get from her.
He awoke early again and wriggled his way carefully out of the pile of warm bodies. He gathered his supplies in his Mountain Equipment Co-op knapsack and set out. He looked back at the huddle and saw her. She'd awoken and was watching him walk across the clearing. He felt a rush in his heart, and loins. He stopped feeling sure she must know his intentions. And felt relieved. Maybe he wouldn't have to go to all that trouble after all. He started to take a hesitant step back toward the huddle and saw the shadow of doubt cross her face. He stopped again and saw the cloud pass as he began to turn away from the huddle. He looked toward the caveand nodded at her seeing the unabashed relief in her face. He knew what he had to do win her trust and ultimately her favour if he wanted those beautiful child bearing hips to be in his hands while they danced in the moonlight to the sound of crickets and loons... because that would be a hell of a lot better than being on tiger duty overnights.
He was gone for a couple of weeks having adventures too wild to tell. She began to wonder if he was a goner. The rest of the group felt an irritation in his absence. He was really strong and they needed his labour to keep all these mouths fed. And he was a good problem solver. They realized what a contribution he'd made and how it was missed. Before they'd only noticed his 5000 calorie diet and the fact that he needed a bigger sheep skin cape. After a while they simply adjusted and since there was no language to put the experience into a frame of reference they simply concluded, without conversation, that the circle of his life had completed itself or that he'd met some ho a few towns over and was pussy whipped into staying.
Then one day, he ambled back into the clearing where they'd set up shop. Everyone stopped. He had a new light about him. He was a bit of a wreck, covered in gouges, scrapes and scratches, healing nicely but all the same, a diary of events. He was recovering from a sunburn and looked like he hadn't made acquaintance with a washbasin and facecloth during his absence. But there was an air about. He was stronger, that much was obvious. He seemed taller. His eyes more wise. Frankly, the group was a little shocked, they'd assumed him dead, filed away in a walk-in freezer with a John Doe tag on his toe.
He walked with such confidence and purpose that they simply moved out of his way as he went directly to the wash up station. He held his hands out and the jug of hand wash water was quickly grabbed up by an available female who wanted nothing more than to be his cave bitch. Though she didn't know why exactly, just knew she felt it very strongly. Caught up as she was in his aura and her automatic response to it she didn't notice her rival making her way toward them...
He saw her purposeful movement and turned his attention to her fully as she bitch slapped the other female and took the jug from her hands before hipchecking her out of the tableaux. She didn't know if he'd come through. But he was back so presumably he was making good on his declaration of intention. She was sure she hadn't misread their communications the morning he left. She knew he'd been holding her ankle the night before he left. If he was back, it meant he'd fulfilled the contract they'd set out. So she poured the water out onto his outstretched hands as a gesture of her trust that he'd done as he claimed he would... which was to get that wooly mammoth and then get that cave.
He scrubbed at his hands and then pointed at the jug and then at his head as he knelt down in front of her. Her eyes went to the river, where they usually showered. Not in judgment but with a twinkle in her eye that said, 'What are you up to if you're not going to take a real bath?' She poured the water over his head as he'd requested because she wanted to know what was next. She felt that she'd been absolutely right to trust her instincts on this guy. She felt an excitement in caring for him this way. Her behaviour toward the other woman was surprising to her but she knew it simply meant that she really dug this guy and would stop at nothing to be his cave baby mama.
After this public show of their loyalties, he felt he was able to fulfill the rest of the contract. He knew she was into it. That it really had been her ankle, that his intentions were clear to her and she knew he was committed to this intentions and not just blowing smoke up her ass... what the fuck is with that expression anyway?
So, he turns to the group and points at a bunch of the bigger males. With a grunt and a gesture toward the only road outta town he turned and left again. Of course the brutes followed. They even kept a few others from joining in their reindeer games. THEY had been selected, this was an exclusive party and you fuckers ain't on the VIP list. So off they went. And you can guess what happened next, he delegated to his new bitches to carry that wooly mammoth the rest of the way back to camp. And when they got there, his cave bitch had a big ole fire burning. She knew her man wasn't feeding them squirrel tonight so she set about building a huge fire and the rest of them followed because she seemed to know what the score was.
He walked right up to her, twenty paces ahead of the grunts hawling the meat with a bounce in his step. He put his arm around her shoulder holding her clos and smelling her cavelady stink that he liked so much. He thought about how the memory of holding her ankle had kept him sane thoughout his sojourn and how happy he was to finally hold her next to him and feel her rhythms. It was exactly as he'd hoped. They stood next to the roaring fire as he gestured to the grunts to throw down his offering. She smiled at him knowingly and hugged him closer in acceptance of his gesture.
He kissed her roughly on the forehead, as a way of saying "thank you for feeling my heart, you're the best, babe." He knew he didn't have to micromanage her delegation of the meat tasks. This bitch was so fine she already had a bonfire blazing to bbq this carcass up to perfection, before he'd even proven to her he had a carcass. Just as he felt the pang of hunger in his gut the smell of meat reached him. He realized it'd been days since he'd eaten that possum and he was ravenous. A female came up to them carrying a Cave Fried Chicken box and handed it gingerly to his special cave lady friend. He felt so overjoyed. He really had picked the best bitch in the pack. They went over to the picnic table and she watched him inhale his happy meal as she sat stroking his hair and back, full of joy for the energy he'd expended so far to jump through all of her if-you-wanna-be-my-cave-baby-
After the meal he rose again, pulling her to her feet and embracing her fully. It was the first time they'd hugged fully, body to body. They both felt so full and wonderful. They didn't feel the burden of their remaining tasks. He felt like he could conquer a whole army of alpha cave dwellers and she felt the rush of excitement about her tasks as well. In fact they both just wanted to get the work done so they could get on to their honeymoon.
He pulled away looking at her warmly and then looked toward the cave. She became excited. Seeing him act all manly was stirring up feelings in her she hadn't been aware of. She stepped back and smiled at him before turning to the carcass which was well under way to being ready for the spit. And he strode up the mountainside to the cave. He didn't knock because caves don't have doors, but strode in as though he already owned the place.
The alpha was napping as his cave lady lounged eating chicken wings. She sat straight up thinking there must some emergency if he was daring to walk in like that. He gestured toward the door not wanting her to have to see what was to come. She gathered her deer skin around herself and held her bucket of wings closely, unsure of what was happening and walked slowly toward the exit.
When she'd gone he took a deep breath and let out a roar, that would have scared Satan himself, startling the alpha awake. He advanced on him, puffing up his chest, throwing his shoulders back and standing up on tip toe. The alpha knew immediately what was going on and that he'd already been caught off guard and that for a split secong his fear had already read out on his face like a neon billboard. He scrambled back in his cave bed away from his rival who simply advanced more.
Making his feet the alpha became aware that sleeping naked has it's disadvantages. He wasn't prepared to fight for his throne without his loincloth. Where was his bitch? A million thoughts racing through his mind as the new alpha advanced further now beating his chest and roaring. He tried to puff up and beat his chest in retaliation but he felt like he couldn't draw a full breath. He made a desperate attempt to growl back at his assailant. It came out as a terrified sort of mewling and he knew the gig was up. As a last resort he made out to strike his opponent but he'd been backed into a corner and couldn't deliver any of the blows with any momentum which he knew was the only way to gain force. He knew he was fucked and just wanted to cry out of frustration and fear.
Suddenly the surprise attack stopped and the new alpha backed off, pointing at the exit. In a last ditch effort to maintain his place as alpha he threw himself toward the new alpha trying to bite out his jugular. The ensuing knock out was the thing cartoons are made of as the new alpha simply drove his fist into the others face, stopping him cold before he slumped to the floor. Wasting no time he grabbed his ankle and dragged him out of the cave.
He looked out over his 'hood, seeing life from a whole new angle. He took a deep breath and roared out into the sky. He was making his claim on the alpha position and challenging any of the others to step the fuck up, right here and now, if they wanted to challenge his authority on the subject. Also as a way of saying, "There ain't no landlord/tenant act up in he'e, get your shit outta my place before me and my woman get back from the sauna in a few hours or there is going to be hell to pay!"
Soooo, long story slightly shortened, the new alpha and his lady headed on down to ye olde waterfall and they had the longest, hottest shower of their lives. Afterwards they lounged about. She rubbed his tired and aching shoulders with oil and he lightly caressed her all over to express to her how fucking beautiful she was to him and how much all this bullshit had been worth it despite how tired he felt right now. They had a sauna loving that it was too hot to touch each other much but that they finally could just relax and enjoy the fruits of their labours. So then they both got pedicures. The sushi rolls had been a good snack but after a while all the tantra made them ravenous so they meandered back to the 'hood where a fine feast was ready.
The wine came in a box, the fennel in the salad was a little overgrown and woody tasting, the pasta was overcooked, there was no lemon for the water, the flowers in the centrepieces weren't in full bloom, the clouds blotted out the moonlight at times. But they didn't care. It was the best meal they'd ever eaten. The best block party they'd ever had in their 'hood. And everyone agreed.
After they'd gorged themselves on the feast and had their fill of hilarious but racist jokes she tapped his elbow gently to get his attention. Mimicking the movements he'd made earlier when he'd wanted her to pour the water over his head and gesturing for him to get down on his knee again. He was new at all this awesomeness so his first thought was "Wtf? What now?" but above that thought he thought "This bitch is awesome, if this isn't more awesome it's gotta be a path to awesome, so shit, I'm just gonna go with it". And so he knelt there and she draped herself over his shoulder... so he could cart her back off to their cave. And it wasn't because she wanted to watch Jeopardy. He didn't care if the sex or her cooking was bad because ultimately, if it was awful he already had a woolly mammoth on line to barter with the next month and he could pick another hot cave lady outta the mix. Maybe the one who tried to wash his hands earlier.
And later, after their glorious coitus he drifted off to sleep thinking on how he might be able to pull in two mammoths a month so he could entice the handwashing cutie in to the circle of love, too. Cuz he sure wasn't going to stop providing mammoths for this little sex pot snoring lightly beside him... fin.
Wow, that was a lot of words to express the idea that actions speak louder than words. But it's the truth. Anyone can make grunts and gestures to express their intentions of a chunk of carcass and sexy love cave. But if you can't produce, through action, she's just going to nod and smile at you before walking away.
The woolly mammoth you are offering to her is the allowance, gifts, or etc. Until your action backs up your claims, these intentions are just empty promises. A series of meaningless grunts and gestures. Whether their mammoth feast fed Louis Vitton dealers or landlords or university clerks who process tuition payments is irrelevant. Your specific arrangement is what it is. But just like the new alpha, you have to throw down that currency to prove to her that you can meet her needs. Believe it or not, a lot of people claim they can provide a sugar lifestyle but have no real money to fulfill their end of the agreement. And who's going to buy the cow when they can get the milk for free? Wait, a sec! I'm no cow and I'm not lactating.
If you can't be completely trustable to her, you won't have her tapping your elbow to bend down and then haul her off to the cave. Yes, literally and figuratively.
The way you prove you are worthy of her sweetness is to do exactly what you say you will do... not this typical business of "I will say whatever it takes to get her pants off." Sugar babies are more ruthless than all that. She'll make sure you back up those claims before she'll be able to give back. It's business, baby. The alpha didn't have to produce a turkey big enough for two because he needed a chunk of meat big enough to barter with because there is a lot more to life than dinner. He saw the cost benefit of paying off the rest of the tribe to build the feast so they could just go and enjoy being alive. The rest of the group built the fire because she was paying in promised meat. But, with all due respect, if you make a liar of her and/or if she has to go hunt her own eatin' and/or barterin' meat, she's not going to wanna hang out with your sorry ass when she comes home exhausted from doing your part and still has to build a fire, too.
The age old question of "How do I get her naked and purring?" has a simple answer. Her allowance. If you've met and are agreeing to go out again, it means you're both interested in the trade. Together you agree to a number and then you produce it. It doesn't mean she will strip naked, right there at the restaurant. The two or three month trial period you agree to is just that, a two or three month trial period to see if you have the right chemistry to make a successful ongoing relationsugar. It doesn't mean you get to change the number until she "produces the goods". Realistically, it's better than agreeing to a year term before you even know if you like having sex together. She wants to know if she can trust what you say and when she feels she can then you can find out if she produces the good feelings you are looking for. These things take time. Or you are simply looking for a sex for cash arrangement more commonly known as a prostitute. No judgements of course but it's better to know what you're looking for than to waste time with disillusion.
Producing the allowance is your chunk of meat offering. That she can take out in the world and barter with so she can have time to be available for waterfall showers. With you. Now just to be clear, waterfall showers are not a requirement of a relationsugar. All of it is opt-in and by design. She is a consultant. And if she feels like your company is trying to take advantage of her company, she'll become unavailable. If she can see that you are fulfilling those promises, she'll become more and more available. And you will get her pants off. Without having to knock her over the head with a rock.
So, alternately, if you pull the old bait and switch trick, she will less inclined to trust your sincerity. Bait and switch is when one thing is agreed upon and then that's not the truth when you show up to buy the alleged motorcycle and find that's it's actually a bicycle. If you agree and then have a consultation without her about the structure. And then make and act on a decision based on that solo consultation, you're not doing what you said you would. If you'd hired someone at work under the pretenses of a $150 000 annual salary and benefits and perks, would you expect them to remain loyal when you revealed that you were paying a third, "the benefits" were a monthly bus pass, except during the summer when you'd be laid off (oops, did you forget to mention that in the interview?) and that "the perks" consist of the shitty drip coffee only costing a quarter, rather than a full dollar. Lol, maybe you would expect them to stick around and work their asses off. But would you? Frankly, would you even stick around for the first coffee date if a woman claimed to be tall and fit and pretty and then a short and fat and unfortunate looking woman showed up for your first meeting?
This is a journey of discovery for us. We did not sign up to find fault with each other, only to bring out our best. Beyond my companionship and friendship, if a sugar daddy gets out of form, I know I'm signed up to overlook that. To a degree. And then my companionship and friendship takes the form of something like therapy. I am an anonymous form of feminine love reaching out from the depth of the universe, to you. If you bring me that mammoth when you say you will. Or I will find a caveman who will ;)
So, one day, back in the day, a young male of the species awoke earlier than the rest of the group piled together for warmth overnight. He lay there listening to the pterodactyls or magpies. The accounts are sketchy so it could have been a coyote he heard calling out. Opening his eyes he surveyed his existence. It wasn't so bad, sleeping in the huddle but it wasn't so great either. His cost benefit analysis left him unsatisfied.
Naturally he could only feel these concepts because the language wasn't there to help him define what his physiology was trying to express. But when he looked up at the cave where the alpha slept and imagined the coziness and the ease that might come with it, he knew what he had to do. He had to upstage that motherfucker, plain and simple. He drifted back to sleep, easier in his mind.
Later he awoke with the business of surviving well under way and he got some looks and grunts of dissatisfaction from the rest of the group. He knew he'd overslept and that as far as surviving goes, that was a good way not to survive. He finally understood the relationship between discipline and getting into that warm cave up there out of the wind. The revelation of the early morning came rushing back to him and he set out about his tasks with a boundless energy.
Watching him, his group replaced their pouty faces with contented expressions. This was the contract, and they were happy he was back on board. But as the day wore on a question plagued the young male. 'WHY do I want to usurp the cave? The alpha is awesome...' It was great to be taken care of and part of this collection of survivalists. He had a place, it was all figured out and he didn't have to worry about it.
He began watching his people carefully. Grunt, grunt, gesture, gesture. 'What the hell am I even looking for?' And then he saw it, everyone had their place, not just him! Even that mystical one that makes cave drawings a few counties over. There was even someone to deliver the Cave Fried Chicken to the mystical one. He'd gone once and it was really cool. But again I digress.
His gaze happened upon some young females doing their thing to keep the group alive. He felt so much joy and admiration for their contributions. He really liked that feeling. But when he looked back at the other males some of it disappeared. He still felt gratitude but some of the glow went away. Looking back toward the females his eyes fell upon one in particular and it finally came to him. 'I want to drag HER off into that cozy cave and fuck the shit out of her. I want to wrap her hairy legs around my neck and make her scream with ecstasy. I want to be in a tangle of legs and arms, by the fire, under a wooly mammoth skin, smelling her and feeling her next to me. I want that bitch to be my cave baby mama... how in the world am I ever going to get her to love me?'
Over the next few days, he rattled all of this new information around in his head. He knew he couldn't express it to her in words because "Grunt, grunt, gesture, gesture" could be interpreted a lot of ways. Finally, it hit him. The only way he could express to her his intentions to kill a wooly mammoth and take over the role of alpha, cave and all, was to do it. If he tried to communicate it with language she'd simply smile and nod, before walking away. He didn't want to trick her or have to resort to bashing her over the head and raping her before she came to. He wanted her to pick him cuz he was the biggest and strongest and most capable of taking care of her and their cave babies...
He drifted off to sleep that night with his hand resting gently on her ankle. Or at least he was pretty sure it was her ankle. He knew he'd touched her many times but it hadn't meant anything before. Now he wanted to feel her and for her to feel him. He was glad for the opportunity to give her his touch, even if was just her ankle. But he knew he wanted more. He wanted her all to himself and the only way to do that was to elevate her to Queen status so she would be able to devote her time and attention to him. As worker bees, this ankle action was the most he could hope to give to or get from her.
He awoke early again and wriggled his way carefully out of the pile of warm bodies. He gathered his supplies in his Mountain Equipment Co-op knapsack and set out. He looked back at the huddle and saw her. She'd awoken and was watching him walk across the clearing. He felt a rush in his heart, and loins. He stopped feeling sure she must know his intentions. And felt relieved. Maybe he wouldn't have to go to all that trouble after all. He started to take a hesitant step back toward the huddle and saw the shadow of doubt cross her face. He stopped again and saw the cloud pass as he began to turn away from the huddle. He looked toward the caveand nodded at her seeing the unabashed relief in her face. He knew what he had to do win her trust and ultimately her favour if he wanted those beautiful child bearing hips to be in his hands while they danced in the moonlight to the sound of crickets and loons... because that would be a hell of a lot better than being on tiger duty overnights.
He was gone for a couple of weeks having adventures too wild to tell. She began to wonder if he was a goner. The rest of the group felt an irritation in his absence. He was really strong and they needed his labour to keep all these mouths fed. And he was a good problem solver. They realized what a contribution he'd made and how it was missed. Before they'd only noticed his 5000 calorie diet and the fact that he needed a bigger sheep skin cape. After a while they simply adjusted and since there was no language to put the experience into a frame of reference they simply concluded, without conversation, that the circle of his life had completed itself or that he'd met some ho a few towns over and was pussy whipped into staying.
Then one day, he ambled back into the clearing where they'd set up shop. Everyone stopped. He had a new light about him. He was a bit of a wreck, covered in gouges, scrapes and scratches, healing nicely but all the same, a diary of events. He was recovering from a sunburn and looked like he hadn't made acquaintance with a washbasin and facecloth during his absence. But there was an air about. He was stronger, that much was obvious. He seemed taller. His eyes more wise. Frankly, the group was a little shocked, they'd assumed him dead, filed away in a walk-in freezer with a John Doe tag on his toe.
He walked with such confidence and purpose that they simply moved out of his way as he went directly to the wash up station. He held his hands out and the jug of hand wash water was quickly grabbed up by an available female who wanted nothing more than to be his cave bitch. Though she didn't know why exactly, just knew she felt it very strongly. Caught up as she was in his aura and her automatic response to it she didn't notice her rival making her way toward them...
He saw her purposeful movement and turned his attention to her fully as she bitch slapped the other female and took the jug from her hands before hipchecking her out of the tableaux. She didn't know if he'd come through. But he was back so presumably he was making good on his declaration of intention. She was sure she hadn't misread their communications the morning he left. She knew he'd been holding her ankle the night before he left. If he was back, it meant he'd fulfilled the contract they'd set out. So she poured the water out onto his outstretched hands as a gesture of her trust that he'd done as he claimed he would... which was to get that wooly mammoth and then get that cave.
He scrubbed at his hands and then pointed at the jug and then at his head as he knelt down in front of her. Her eyes went to the river, where they usually showered. Not in judgment but with a twinkle in her eye that said, 'What are you up to if you're not going to take a real bath?' She poured the water over his head as he'd requested because she wanted to know what was next. She felt that she'd been absolutely right to trust her instincts on this guy. She felt an excitement in caring for him this way. Her behaviour toward the other woman was surprising to her but she knew it simply meant that she really dug this guy and would stop at nothing to be his cave baby mama.
After this public show of their loyalties, he felt he was able to fulfill the rest of the contract. He knew she was into it. That it really had been her ankle, that his intentions were clear to her and she knew he was committed to this intentions and not just blowing smoke up her ass... what the fuck is with that expression anyway?
So, he turns to the group and points at a bunch of the bigger males. With a grunt and a gesture toward the only road outta town he turned and left again. Of course the brutes followed. They even kept a few others from joining in their reindeer games. THEY had been selected, this was an exclusive party and you fuckers ain't on the VIP list. So off they went. And you can guess what happened next, he delegated to his new bitches to carry that wooly mammoth the rest of the way back to camp. And when they got there, his cave bitch had a big ole fire burning. She knew her man wasn't feeding them squirrel tonight so she set about building a huge fire and the rest of them followed because she seemed to know what the score was.
He walked right up to her, twenty paces ahead of the grunts hawling the meat with a bounce in his step. He put his arm around her shoulder holding her clos and smelling her cavelady stink that he liked so much. He thought about how the memory of holding her ankle had kept him sane thoughout his sojourn and how happy he was to finally hold her next to him and feel her rhythms. It was exactly as he'd hoped. They stood next to the roaring fire as he gestured to the grunts to throw down his offering. She smiled at him knowingly and hugged him closer in acceptance of his gesture.
He kissed her roughly on the forehead, as a way of saying "thank you for feeling my heart, you're the best, babe." He knew he didn't have to micromanage her delegation of the meat tasks. This bitch was so fine she already had a bonfire blazing to bbq this carcass up to perfection, before he'd even proven to her he had a carcass. Just as he felt the pang of hunger in his gut the smell of meat reached him. He realized it'd been days since he'd eaten that possum and he was ravenous. A female came up to them carrying a Cave Fried Chicken box and handed it gingerly to his special cave lady friend. He felt so overjoyed. He really had picked the best bitch in the pack. They went over to the picnic table and she watched him inhale his happy meal as she sat stroking his hair and back, full of joy for the energy he'd expended so far to jump through all of her if-you-wanna-be-my-cave-baby-
After the meal he rose again, pulling her to her feet and embracing her fully. It was the first time they'd hugged fully, body to body. They both felt so full and wonderful. They didn't feel the burden of their remaining tasks. He felt like he could conquer a whole army of alpha cave dwellers and she felt the rush of excitement about her tasks as well. In fact they both just wanted to get the work done so they could get on to their honeymoon.
He pulled away looking at her warmly and then looked toward the cave. She became excited. Seeing him act all manly was stirring up feelings in her she hadn't been aware of. She stepped back and smiled at him before turning to the carcass which was well under way to being ready for the spit. And he strode up the mountainside to the cave. He didn't knock because caves don't have doors, but strode in as though he already owned the place.
The alpha was napping as his cave lady lounged eating chicken wings. She sat straight up thinking there must some emergency if he was daring to walk in like that. He gestured toward the door not wanting her to have to see what was to come. She gathered her deer skin around herself and held her bucket of wings closely, unsure of what was happening and walked slowly toward the exit.
When she'd gone he took a deep breath and let out a roar, that would have scared Satan himself, startling the alpha awake. He advanced on him, puffing up his chest, throwing his shoulders back and standing up on tip toe. The alpha knew immediately what was going on and that he'd already been caught off guard and that for a split secong his fear had already read out on his face like a neon billboard. He scrambled back in his cave bed away from his rival who simply advanced more.
Making his feet the alpha became aware that sleeping naked has it's disadvantages. He wasn't prepared to fight for his throne without his loincloth. Where was his bitch? A million thoughts racing through his mind as the new alpha advanced further now beating his chest and roaring. He tried to puff up and beat his chest in retaliation but he felt like he couldn't draw a full breath. He made a desperate attempt to growl back at his assailant. It came out as a terrified sort of mewling and he knew the gig was up. As a last resort he made out to strike his opponent but he'd been backed into a corner and couldn't deliver any of the blows with any momentum which he knew was the only way to gain force. He knew he was fucked and just wanted to cry out of frustration and fear.
Suddenly the surprise attack stopped and the new alpha backed off, pointing at the exit. In a last ditch effort to maintain his place as alpha he threw himself toward the new alpha trying to bite out his jugular. The ensuing knock out was the thing cartoons are made of as the new alpha simply drove his fist into the others face, stopping him cold before he slumped to the floor. Wasting no time he grabbed his ankle and dragged him out of the cave.
He looked out over his 'hood, seeing life from a whole new angle. He took a deep breath and roared out into the sky. He was making his claim on the alpha position and challenging any of the others to step the fuck up, right here and now, if they wanted to challenge his authority on the subject. Also as a way of saying, "There ain't no landlord/tenant act up in he'e, get your shit outta my place before me and my woman get back from the sauna in a few hours or there is going to be hell to pay!"
Soooo, long story slightly shortened, the new alpha and his lady headed on down to ye olde waterfall and they had the longest, hottest shower of their lives. Afterwards they lounged about. She rubbed his tired and aching shoulders with oil and he lightly caressed her all over to express to her how fucking beautiful she was to him and how much all this bullshit had been worth it despite how tired he felt right now. They had a sauna loving that it was too hot to touch each other much but that they finally could just relax and enjoy the fruits of their labours. So then they both got pedicures. The sushi rolls had been a good snack but after a while all the tantra made them ravenous so they meandered back to the 'hood where a fine feast was ready.
The wine came in a box, the fennel in the salad was a little overgrown and woody tasting, the pasta was overcooked, there was no lemon for the water, the flowers in the centrepieces weren't in full bloom, the clouds blotted out the moonlight at times. But they didn't care. It was the best meal they'd ever eaten. The best block party they'd ever had in their 'hood. And everyone agreed.
After they'd gorged themselves on the feast and had their fill of hilarious but racist jokes she tapped his elbow gently to get his attention. Mimicking the movements he'd made earlier when he'd wanted her to pour the water over his head and gesturing for him to get down on his knee again. He was new at all this awesomeness so his first thought was "Wtf? What now?" but above that thought he thought "This bitch is awesome, if this isn't more awesome it's gotta be a path to awesome, so shit, I'm just gonna go with it". And so he knelt there and she draped herself over his shoulder... so he could cart her back off to their cave. And it wasn't because she wanted to watch Jeopardy. He didn't care if the sex or her cooking was bad because ultimately, if it was awful he already had a woolly mammoth on line to barter with the next month and he could pick another hot cave lady outta the mix. Maybe the one who tried to wash his hands earlier.
And later, after their glorious coitus he drifted off to sleep thinking on how he might be able to pull in two mammoths a month so he could entice the handwashing cutie in to the circle of love, too. Cuz he sure wasn't going to stop providing mammoths for this little sex pot snoring lightly beside him... fin.
Wow, that was a lot of words to express the idea that actions speak louder than words. But it's the truth. Anyone can make grunts and gestures to express their intentions of a chunk of carcass and sexy love cave. But if you can't produce, through action, she's just going to nod and smile at you before walking away.
The woolly mammoth you are offering to her is the allowance, gifts, or etc. Until your action backs up your claims, these intentions are just empty promises. A series of meaningless grunts and gestures. Whether their mammoth feast fed Louis Vitton dealers or landlords or university clerks who process tuition payments is irrelevant. Your specific arrangement is what it is. But just like the new alpha, you have to throw down that currency to prove to her that you can meet her needs. Believe it or not, a lot of people claim they can provide a sugar lifestyle but have no real money to fulfill their end of the agreement. And who's going to buy the cow when they can get the milk for free? Wait, a sec! I'm no cow and I'm not lactating.
If you can't be completely trustable to her, you won't have her tapping your elbow to bend down and then haul her off to the cave. Yes, literally and figuratively.
The way you prove you are worthy of her sweetness is to do exactly what you say you will do... not this typical business of "I will say whatever it takes to get her pants off." Sugar babies are more ruthless than all that. She'll make sure you back up those claims before she'll be able to give back. It's business, baby. The alpha didn't have to produce a turkey big enough for two because he needed a chunk of meat big enough to barter with because there is a lot more to life than dinner. He saw the cost benefit of paying off the rest of the tribe to build the feast so they could just go and enjoy being alive. The rest of the group built the fire because she was paying in promised meat. But, with all due respect, if you make a liar of her and/or if she has to go hunt her own eatin' and/or barterin' meat, she's not going to wanna hang out with your sorry ass when she comes home exhausted from doing your part and still has to build a fire, too.
The age old question of "How do I get her naked and purring?" has a simple answer. Her allowance. If you've met and are agreeing to go out again, it means you're both interested in the trade. Together you agree to a number and then you produce it. It doesn't mean she will strip naked, right there at the restaurant. The two or three month trial period you agree to is just that, a two or three month trial period to see if you have the right chemistry to make a successful ongoing relationsugar. It doesn't mean you get to change the number until she "produces the goods". Realistically, it's better than agreeing to a year term before you even know if you like having sex together. She wants to know if she can trust what you say and when she feels she can then you can find out if she produces the good feelings you are looking for. These things take time. Or you are simply looking for a sex for cash arrangement more commonly known as a prostitute. No judgements of course but it's better to know what you're looking for than to waste time with disillusion.
Producing the allowance is your chunk of meat offering. That she can take out in the world and barter with so she can have time to be available for waterfall showers. With you. Now just to be clear, waterfall showers are not a requirement of a relationsugar. All of it is opt-in and by design. She is a consultant. And if she feels like your company is trying to take advantage of her company, she'll become unavailable. If she can see that you are fulfilling those promises, she'll become more and more available. And you will get her pants off. Without having to knock her over the head with a rock.
So, alternately, if you pull the old bait and switch trick, she will less inclined to trust your sincerity. Bait and switch is when one thing is agreed upon and then that's not the truth when you show up to buy the alleged motorcycle and find that's it's actually a bicycle. If you agree and then have a consultation without her about the structure. And then make and act on a decision based on that solo consultation, you're not doing what you said you would. If you'd hired someone at work under the pretenses of a $150 000 annual salary and benefits and perks, would you expect them to remain loyal when you revealed that you were paying a third, "the benefits" were a monthly bus pass, except during the summer when you'd be laid off (oops, did you forget to mention that in the interview?) and that "the perks" consist of the shitty drip coffee only costing a quarter, rather than a full dollar. Lol, maybe you would expect them to stick around and work their asses off. But would you? Frankly, would you even stick around for the first coffee date if a woman claimed to be tall and fit and pretty and then a short and fat and unfortunate looking woman showed up for your first meeting?
This is a journey of discovery for us. We did not sign up to find fault with each other, only to bring out our best. Beyond my companionship and friendship, if a sugar daddy gets out of form, I know I'm signed up to overlook that. To a degree. And then my companionship and friendship takes the form of something like therapy. I am an anonymous form of feminine love reaching out from the depth of the universe, to you. If you bring me that mammoth when you say you will. Or I will find a caveman who will ;)
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