Beyond the Horizon

Part 1

One of the lessons you learn after years of driving is that at some point or another, you’re going to experience the pain of repetition and predictability. Even when I first started off on the journey, I never had a destination in mind. It’s like as soon as I sat down and closed the door, it was getting hazy. It’s apparent to me now that from the moment I turned that old key and fired her up I was totally unsure of to exactly where I thought I was going. Driving is one of my greatest pleasures. There’s a sincere innocence in the act of driving. I lost sight of much of that, and from time to time I wasn’t sure if I was even in control. From a certain perspective the relationship between the machine and it’s controller breaks down, and it can become objectively difficult to distinguish which is driven by which.

To be fair, the warning signs were all over the place. It felt like I couldn’t go more than ten seconds without some sign, a precaution, a rule, a rule of thumb, a word of advice whispered in confidence. I always did my best to be a responsible driver. For the longest time I did my best to obey all the rules of the road, back before I knew better, or perhaps until I thought I knew better. Experience is the greatest teacher, not to mention the harshest. It’s common knowledge that to learn from experience makes even the worst decisions worthwhile. Sometimes it’s simply the only thing that one can take away from the curveballs so often thrown one’s way. The problem for the unwise lies in working out what lesson the accused is to take away from his crime. For the introspective the problem is rarely not seeing the problem at hand. They can even take precautions to make sure that one accident is never repeated, by not repeating whatever lead to disaster the first time around. For the experienced, and by that I mean the scarred, the disfigured, those drivers who possibly still hurt every waking day of their lives, there are an entirely different set of problems, regardless of their ability to learn from past experiences. The problem faced by the salty, by the ones who well and truly drove around that block more than they care to admit, is the inability to disengage from what they think they know best, and in doing so they find themselves sat exactly where they were before they even released the handbrake. One cannot escape his past, cannot escape the stupid things they did. But to make matters worse, they begin to see that so many of the reflective, glaring, fluorescent signs they are bombarded with as they hit the highway begin to contradict each other. They blur, they all look the same, sound the same. It seems impossible to follow one highway code without breaking another. At first, one particularly thoughtful individual might find, there seemed to be one over-arching Way. The irrefutable Tao of the road. The one true way. I miss that idea. I’ve reached a point where no matter how hard I try and see things as I used to, either I changed, or the rules did.

And so those rare unfortunates may find the signs begin to undermine each other. Slow down, but speed up. Be cautious, but never so more than you’re being brazen. Make sure to flaunt every last thing you have and haven’t ever done, because nobody likes It when you brag. And so experience fails you. It begins to lie to you, and even when you’re aware that there is clearly deception afoot, you become a man looking at a map with no reference as to where in the fuck they actually are. It’s at this point in my career as a driver that I also realised that for all the years I had been driving, I could not remember where I was going. I knew that I had been driving for a very long time, and I think at certain points I had stopped off at places, and I still remember the people I picked up. Some of them drove with me for the longest time. I always liked having passengers, but sooner or later, the destination is reached, and the journey has come to an end. But I digress. At a certain point, I found myself lost. It was the worst kind of lost, in that not only did I not know at all where and when I was, but in that I had totally forgotten where I had originally intended to go. I could not even remember at what point I had forgotten everything about myself. All I knew was in looking in the mirror, I was sure I didn’t recognise myself. I could not even describe the person who stared back at me. The Driver was a man about which you could say so much, but I’m quite certain that none of the obvious things you could gleam from that countenance were objectively correct. Nothing I’ve ever experienced has been quite so simple as that. First impressions are hard to resist, however. In a way it didn’t matter that I’m sure in some ways I recognised the Driver’s face, because from the moment I met his eyes with mine, I knew he’d always be a simple mystery to me, destined to be my enemy, the one who knew me the best.

He had the look of the man who has learned from experience as he lit that cigarette. The glow from the lighter revealed a face older and more weathered than I’m sure my own face was. He looked bad. I was certain he didn’t have the slightest good intention in mind for me, and yet everything in his eyes and in the tone of his voice struck me as sincere and well meaning. He spoke to me as if he knew me. We’re on the road now aren’t we? I’ve always loved these warm nights, the heady smell in the air. He grinned, and his eyes lit up. I suddenly felt thirsty. Thirstier than I’ve ever felt in my life. There was adrenaline coursing through my body now, and most of my worry had suddenly receded. As he rolled down the window, an old and child-like excitement crossed his face, as a child who is told on Christmas day that the best present has been saved to last. What does it even matter where we’re going? The pleasure’s in the driving. It’s also in the uncertainty. We passed a strange scene by the side of that long road. This struck me because until now it had all been so blank. There was a cow being led down the road by two men, one in front, and one following up from behind. We passed so quickly that the image struck me as an old black and white picture would have, fixed in my mind without the suggestion of fading. It was like some grim scene from a foreign abattoir, and I felt my spirit drop, knowing where the cow’s destination lay despite all his ignorance. He looked complacent if not slightly confused as to his predicament, being lead by his handlers as he was. For some unknown reason, I honestly felt very sad for him. Then I laughed. Fucker should have evolved faster. I couldn’t but help show the slightest disapproval, even if deep down something in me knew it was true. It would be pretty much the same if the boot was on the other foot. Or hoof. You get my drift. I laughed again, and I wasn’t sure if it was humour or desperation I heard in that laugh. It sounded strange to me, but laughs always sound strange when you really listen to them. Everyone knows what a laugh means, but that shit can’t be found in any dictionary I ever heard of.

For some reason I really like girls with scars and was wondering if anyone else here likes the same or has some pics/vids to share? I know some of you will be assholes about this but anyway.

Hello all,

Please forgive my poor writing as i have never been good at it.

This happened a few days ago and has sense then peaked my interest in sounding rods as i know know what there called. Please forgive my stating wands as that was not correct.

I had an injury years ago, and it caused a urethral stricture, and it has slowly gotten tighter, and I was having problems urinating. So off to the urologist, after he scoped it and said that it would have to have the scar tissue pulled apart, I set up a date to have it done. So at my appointment, I am lying naked except for a thin sheet waiting on the doctor when the nurse came in, she said she would be doing the procedure and started preparing everything she would need. So here I am staring at these slender wands that slowly get bigger at the base thinking oh shit I want out of here.

She chatted with me as she got everything in order, and I found out she is in her last year at UF and had worked with the doctor for several years. So the first thing she does is insert a syringe with a numbing agent into my penis, and she is looking around for something and says I forgot the clamp to keep the (whatever the name of the stuff was) from being pushed out. She asked me if I want to have her get a clamp and start over or hold it closed. I say I can hold it as I was getting a bit embarrassed about it. She could not allow me because my hands weren't sterile, and she did not mind keeping it closed for the time it took to work.

Now here I am lying on this cold ass table with a slightly chubby but attractive girl holding my penis right under the head, she kept chatting with me like it was nothing unusual. Hence, I felt better and started to relax and daydreamed the typical nurse-patient porn scene, big mistake as I started to get aroused and could not stop getting an erection. She states that it should be numb now and not worry about it. She then slowly released the grip she had right under the head of my penis, The numbing agent she put in me came out, it looked like I was cumming I was so embarrassed I could not even look at her. She said, don't be ashamed about having an erection as it happens and not anything she has not seen before. She lubed the first wand up was explaining what she was doing as it was slowly sliding it down inside me.

I did not feel much of anything at first as my penis felt numbed pretty well. Watching disbelievingly as the nurse insert the wand into my penis much deeper than I could have believed it would go. I could felt it deep inside me, and It was a strange feeling that is hard to describe.

As she slowly backed the wand out and then slid it six times before pulling it out and reaching for the next size wand. She then repeated what she had done. She reached for the last one in the line, saying she believed that the others would not be needed.

She carefully lubed it up, inserted some lube in the tip of my penis, and started to slide it down slowly. She said if I felt any pain tell her, and she would move down to the smaller wand. I felt it going down inside me, and there was no pain but a strange sensation of having a full bladder and needing to pee. Her hand is wrapped around my shaft holding me tight as she guides it down inside me, she asked if I was ok as I was wiggling a little and I told her it was ok it just felt strange, she asked if I was in pain and I said I am not sure how to reply, but it was not hurting.

As it got deeper, it felt good. But when the nurse started to withdraw the wand out, it was terrific. She started slowly sliding it in and out of me, saying the scar tissue should have separated by now, I felt like I was getting close to cumming and tried to bear down hard on myself so it would not happen. That caused her to pull the wand out quickly, guessing she had hurt me. That did it when it came out of my penis. I came so hard I thought I would not stop.
Mortified, I did not know what to do as here she is holding my pulsing shaft while cum is blasted all over and slid down my shaft onto her glove. And I can not be sure, but I swear she squeezed my shaft and pumped me a couple of times to get the cum out before starting to clean me up. We both acted like it never happened, She left, and I got dressed then the doctor came in, wrote me a script and told me how to care for myself for a couple of days until it had time to heal.

I have to have this done several times and wear a catheter after a few weeks to keep it open until it heals open larger than before. As I left, the nurse walked by and said she would see me at my next appointment and gave me a big smile and a wink.

I am writing this to you this because I have to. My master is making me share my story as part of my punishment for being a sissy faggot bitch. My name is Toby, I own a construction company that has about 10 employees and we are fairly successful. Successful enough that I don’t need to be at work much and have a fair amount of spare time. This is where my problem began. I Started jerking off to porno like all the time. It was all that I could do. 2- 3 times a day, always to porn, and the porn got harder and harder. One day I stumbled across a porno vid of 2 guys. The one guy was fucking the other guys mouth hard. I was intrigued and for the first time I came to the thought of 2 guys. Immediately afterwards I was disgusted and ashamed that I had just jerked off to gay porn. wtf.. Im not gay. I deleted the memory and cache off my comp and figured that I would never need to worry about it again.
A week or so passed and had forgotten about my gay incident. Life was normal, my gf Candice and I had just moved in together, things were going great. One night I was one the computer and got deep into rape porn and other hard-core stuff. I found myself jerking off to gay porn again. This time I didn’t get discouraged and went all out and fingered my ass while jerking off watching gay porn. Afterwards I was slightly ashamed but not as bad.
This trend continued and I started jerking off to gay porn daily. It was just normal for me. I also started experimenting with anal. By using cucumbers with condoms on and anal pumping myself. I was becoming a real pervert.
At some point some night I discovered craigslist. I started to play with it and even started to contact and reply to some of the ads. That’s not exactly true. I really started to reply to ads. All the time. I would be setting up dates with guys and standing them up. I became known as a time waster. And that’s what I was just a tease.
One night I got brave with all the dates and I actually was so horny that I figured I will maybe try to suck a dick. I picked one ad with a guy with a nice clean looking dick and set up a meeting in a deserted parking lot.
So there he was with his blue mini-van. I can remembering being so nervous approaching the passenger side door. He rolled down his window and for the first time I saw my master.
“why your as good-looking as you are in the pics” Master exclaimed.
“thank you, you are too, so you want to do this?” I replied
“for sure! Hop in.” master encouraged
I got in his mini-van and he lite up a cigarette. Hew was about 38 years old, clean shaven, a little over-weight but still handsome. He had tattoos and I quickly noticed his scare on his face. I didn’t want to say anything about it and just ignored it.
master was rubbing his dick through his pants “so lets get down to business”
he pulled his dick out and I immediately went down on him. His dick was about 6-7 inches long and not that thick, he was circumcised and his dick tasted like soap. He held the back of my head lightly pushing down every so often.. I really didn’t like to tell you the truth and was hoping it would end soon. He started to pump my face harder and came. I spit it all out and it was not pleasant at all. He was pissed cause I made a mess and he actually slapped me on the back of the head. I didn’t react because I just wanted it all over with.
“Get out, you worthless slave.. you should be punished for not swallowing. “ I looked at this guy like he had 2 heads. Slave? Punished? This guy was sick in my mind, I just got in my truck and left.
In my mind I was never going to suck another dick again but I wasn’t gone for 20 minutes when I noticed that my wallet was missing. I quickly grabbed my i-phone and checked my email to see if buddy had contacted me. I opened it up and saw and email from him with an attachment. I open the email and it reads “he sissy, looks like I got your wallet. I also want you to check out the nice new video I have. You will come back to this parking lot immediately and clean up your mess.” I was shocked. I opened the attachment and my heart sank.. It was a video of me sucking masters beautiful cock. He must have taped me in the act. Fuck me I thought.. this prick has my wallet and all my info and a video of me sucking his dick.
I immediately got in my car and went to the parking lot. When I got there he was waiting outside his car. I pulled up and got out really nervously.
“Well, I’ll make you a deal, you clean that up in my truck there and let me fuck your ass while doing it and Ill delete the video. If you don’t then I will be emailing it to all your employee’s, your girlfriend, your parents. I have all your personal info and I can make this happen. So its your choice. You be a good bitch and finish what you started you go on with your life. You don’t and you go on know as a dicksucker.”
“fuck you man.. Ill call the police.” I retorted.
“go ahead. I just got out of jail, I’m not afraid.. where do you think I got this scar.. plus you do that and I’ll fuck you up.. now I am going to forgive you if you immediately get in there and start cleaning..”
He was serious.. fuck me.. I slowly bent over and leaned in and started to wipe the seat with my hand..
“I have nothing to wipe this up with I pleaded..”
Master then came up behind me and yanked my pants down to my ankles and started to push his dick against my asshole.. it slide in but still hurt. I was so nervous about someone catching us I just wanted it to finish.
“here lick it up.. lick up your mess you fucking pig slut” he pushed my head into the mess…
so here I was, bent over with my face in a pile of cum and getting my ass fucked. How did this happen? How did I get myself into this? I wasn’t licking the mess up and master didn’t seem to care. He was fucking my ass like he was trying to kill it. After about 2 minutes of hard fucking I sensed he was getting close to finishing.
“please don’t cum in me,” I pleaded
“shut your mouth you fucking slut. I will cum where I want” he replied
“do you have any std’s” I asked concerned as there were no condoms, but Master didn’t respond and he started to push hard hurting me..
“uhh, uggh, ugh, take it you bitch,” master slowly relaxed still deep inside me “ I don’t know if I have and std, I’ve never been tested. You gunna get tested in a month or so and tell me, I don’t have anything serious, they would tell you in jail.”
Wtf I thought?? Anyways.. I had done my part. He gave me back my wallet and promised to delete the video.. I didn’t really believe it. I kinda at that point new that my ordeal was not over. But I wanted out of the van as fast as I could. I quickly pulled up my pants and I got in my car and left.
When I got home I felt sick to my stomach, I went to the shower and didn’t get out for an hour. I washed and washed and washed, I couldn’t get clean. When I got out of the shower I noticed that I had a text message, it was master. Now that he had my info he knew who I was he had me pegged. The text was simply another video… I opened it and it was a video he took while he was fucking my ass.
“do you think I would let your sweet ass get away now did you?” the text read

While I comment mostly on politics here, there is a PBS program that I'd like to discuss that I believe deserves mention for its stellar presentation, and narration;

The Pioneers of Television

I have a tremendous respect and admiration, nay a soft spot, for the generations that have come before me. One of the generations I admire most is, The Greatest Generation. These people grew up in an America, and also a Germany, an England, an India, a Brazil, very different from the ones that we know today. As an American, I'll speak from what I know of in my own country. Many of The Greatest Generation grew up as what we would consider today as abysmally poor. A good deal of them grew up in homes without electricity, much less any other modern convenience.

When their country called on them during WWII, they not only willingly left their homes & everything they knew, many for the first time, but did so patriotically even going to fight for the freedoms of other countries like France, Holland, England, The Phillippines, and etc. Many of these brave men still lie in graves scattered all around the world. The wives and girlfriends worked tirelessly in munitions and airplane factories to support their country. When they came home with their battle scars, they and their wives made families and set about, without complaint, to built the most free and prosperous country the world had ever known. They saw to it that they and their neighbors were clothed and fed. They built and housed their families in the best housing they could afford. They brought us arguably the most fantastically styled cars in history during the 1950's. Art, culture and education exploided with The Greatest Generation. They dressed with pride and treated one another respectfully. And all of this was done through hard work, sheer grit & determination, and rugged individualism.

When television first began in the last 1940's, no one, including the fledgling televison industry, knew quite what it should be. I know in todays world of laptops, iPhones, & tablets that seems amazing. Many of the first t.v. shows were current/ events / news shows, or the comedy of successful, well established Vaudeville & radio acts bringing their routines to the small screen. Shortly after this, the idea of playing games on t.v. for the viewer to watch was given a try. To gain viewer interest, producers gave prizes away to contestants, &/or they showed known celebrities playing the game as with one of the first t.v. game shows, "What's My Line?".

For me, seeing well established old time Vaudevillians like Jack Benny, Bob Hope, Milton "Uncle Milty" Berle, Jackie Gleason, & Red Skelton working their hearts out to make people laugh on live t.v. is still some of the best television ever! And it was ALL live! If a performer screwed up....guess what?... it was seen by thousands, & sometimes millions of people. My favorite all time television moment happened late one night, long before I was even born. A young comedian took a chance and decided to host a show that came on late at night when all the other stations where off the air, showing test patterns. The show was called "Tonight!" on the National Broadcasting Network (NBC). The young comedian was the late, Steve Allen. It was a big risk, because who knew if hard working Americans in the late 1950's would stay up to watch t.v. that late at night? In those days of live t.v., most of the shows had monitors off camera, so that the performer could see what the viewer was seeing, and could then make any adjustments to the performance that might be needed. As he began his routine, Mr. Allen glanced into the live monitor and got a glimpse of how ridiculous he looked. This single item became the downfall of the segment for Steve Allen, and gave us one of the singularly most hilarious moments in television history! I've seen this probably 100 times, & it still makes me laugh so hard that it brings me to tears:

youtube.com/watch?v=YaNxy4wDv1k

For me, old t.v. shows, old movies, & books are like a time machine into our shared past. With life as busy as it is today, it's sort of like we're all living in a fog. What these programs & movies do for us is they give us a "magic sword". We're able to take that sword, cut through the fog of modern life, and have a clear view, almost magically of what came before us, like a window. In Jan. 2013 PBS will be replaying these epic shows. So folks I encourage you to stop, take a moment and make yourself some popcorn, and sit down with me to enjoy and revel in the history of The Greatest Generation & the wonderment of,

The Pioneers Of Television

-redrocker

I confess modern attitudes to sex piss me off. Pedophiles are looked down on for being freaks but I think you'll find if you knew even the slightest bit about history that for hundreds and hundreds of years fully grown men would marry 13 year old girls. It's in human nature. Girls as your as 13 are perfectly capable of making their own decisions regarding sex. The only reason its 'bad' is because people say it is. A girl who has sex at a young age doesn't grow up mentally scarred because she wasn't ready she does so because the rest of the world tells her she wasn't ready. What the fuck is wrong with people

michelle amezcua , awesome chick. beatiful tits - breast inplantes/ well executed tummy tuck. tattoo to cover scar lines

I think the sexiest thing about Tina Fey is the big scar she has along her cheek. Lately, the thought of doing things like:
*licking along her scar and tracing it with my tongue
*slowly rubbing the tip of my cock along it, leaving a trail of pre-cum
*having her jerk me off into her hand, then watching her rub my jizz into her scar, making sure the cum seeps into every crevice of her sexy scar

have become some of my strongest sexual fantasies, getting me cumming in minutes. I'm not even really sure why, I don't really have a "scar fetish" (if that even is a thing), but the thought of getting up close and personal with it really gets me going.

Ever dated someone you detest? Someone you are disgusted with?

I am divorced, in my 40s. He left me because I couldnt get pregnant. So I live alone. After such experience, my faith in humanity was lost, so I didnt want to get involved with anyone, ever again.

I work in public service, a place surrounded by men, which made me act like a man myself. I understand that my body is still in good shape, but I have always been everything else, but pretty. Had a severe problem with acne vulgaris at my teens, so, even though it is resolved, it left scars on my heart, besides my face.

Before this, I havent had sex in almost 15 years, since he left me. I did it all by myself. And I never thought I will again.

But, he came along. He was so persevere. I did owe him a favor, something work related, so I agreed to go out with him. He is fat, ugly, ten years older than me, and he smells. Gave him a sympathy hand job after that "date", barely managed to find it underneath that belly of his. And he left me some money.

I am ok, financially. I thought I would be offended, but I felt good. "At least I got something out of it".

We went out again. We tried to have sex, but he is just too fat. Only way he could reach me down there, was for him to get on his back, pull his stomach up, and for me to try to sit on him. Didnt work. Tried from the reverse side. He barely got in. He then tried to lick me, and he even was bad at that, but it did get me off.

This time, he left me a lots of money.

Now, I see him once or twice a week. We have dinner, and go to my place to do something. Since he is, what he is, he usually just jerks off on my feet, while I lie down naked. That, or I give him a hand job.

I earn from him, more than I do on my job.

Still, it makes me wanna puke, whenever I see him.

I just pissed, fucked and came inside my own ass! First I gapped my asshole by fucking it with a cyberskin dildo. Once good and lubed I stretch my cock back around to it and slipped the head in and though it was hard to do was able to start pissing... this made me extremely horny so i started working the head in and out to just past the circumcision scar about a good quarter of my cock..I kept popping in and out and before I knew it i was busting one of the biggest nuts I've ever had!

I know its bad but I randomly will go online and find girls to fuck with emotionally, i wish i didnt do it cause i know i scar them. Fuck im a horrible person, but idk shit