Wildlife Wednesday

This Blue-tongue lizard has made himself a home in my backyard since my dogs have gone to the big paddock in the sky. I think he's been under the house ever since we came here... but has only taken over the whole territory recently. (One of my dogs had a fondness for lizards.)

I'm fond of lizards but after living in the country for so long, when they appear under my feet, my body immediately freezes and the word "snake" comes to my head, then I remember where I am.

My husband has grown fond of this guy so much so he was looking for him the other morning - and found him under his foot! Lordy! He assures me he didn't put all his weight on him and that he felt the lump under his thong... but I haven't seen the blue-tongue since, so I'm worried.

The Australian Museum site tells me that the Blue tongue is the largest of the Skink family. The Eastern Blue-tongue is silvery-grey with broad dark brown or blackish bands across the back and tail. Individuals on the coast usually have a black stripe between the eye and the ear which may extend along the side of the neck. The Eastern Blue-tongue can grow to almost 600 mm in total length, of which about 360 mm is head and body. 

Blue-tongues eat a wide variety of both plants and animals. Blue-tongues are not very agile and the animals they eat are mostly slow-moving. Their teeth are large and they have strong jaw muscles so they can crush snail shells and beetles.

Blue-tongues live alone for most of the year, but between September and November males pursue females and mating occurs. At this time, males may fight aggressively among themselves. Mating may be rough, with females carrying scrape marks from the male's teeth.

Sunday Story

In last week's post I promised you a comparison between The Virginity Mission and my old diary. So here it is -

In The Virginity Mission, Mac has a day of hell where she has to rock-hop along a creek.
Extract from The Virginity Mission:



Rock-hopping is exactly how it sounds. We jump from rock to rock along the creek. I’ve never done this. I’ve walked around rock platforms at the beach, with my parents telling me to be careful and to not hurt myself, but I’ve never rock-hopped. After a few rocks, it becomes abundantly clear that I’m no rock-hopper. Everyone hops happily past me, while I quiver and tentatively step from one rock to the next until I give in and wade.  

This is new and rattles me. Why can’t I rock-hop? 

The rocks become larger and further and further apart. The creek is filled with smaller rocks. I can no longer wade. I have to jump from large rock to large rock. I set myself up for the first jump. My legs become jelly snakes dangling uselessly from my body. My knees are shuddering pieces of flesh, useless to hold me up, much less catch my weight when I land. My stomach takes a nose dive to someplace as low as it can go. 

This is ridiculous. I have to move. I steel myself to jump. I call myself all manner of names. I tighten up my jelly snake legs and then Ed’s hand extends towards me. I hadn’t noticed him come back for me. 

“Problem, Mac?” he asks. 

“Just my knees.” I try to sound flippant but it comes out as a shaky whisper.


and then a little later:

 
“You have to have faith in your feet, Mac.” I nod and he goes on ahead, leaving me alone to leap and think. 

This question of my lack of confidence has come up again. First Jason. Now Ed. I didn’t realise there was a problem.  



When I read my diary, there were many many days spent rock hopping and I never did learn to enjoy it.

Here's some of the extracts from my diary:

Did quite a bit of horrific rock hopping. I guess I have to trust my feet more because there will be heaps more.

Heaps of bloody rock hopping again, and hills to climb. We crossed the river at one point and I swear the jump was about 2m wide. [two of the guys] have been fantastic pushing me along, pulling me up/across/along. I know I've only got to trust my feet but it's so bloody difficult to "fly" across rocks. 

...my spirits were failing badly. I was ready to sit down, bawl my eyes out and ditch out of the big trip. Then [one of the guys] coaxed me along, built up my courage a bit with heaps of encouragement and then we hit a good swimming spot.

 

  
I thought I'd made Mac unlike me... but looks like I snuck in there a bit too much! And I'm ashamed to say it, but Mac seems a lot braver than I was!

First Review

I saw the first review for The Virginity Mission this week. It's on GoodReads and it's lovely. And what's even more amazing is that I don't know the person!

I thought reviews waited until the book came out but I guess not. I didn't intend to read any reviews (much too terrifying). I was on GoodReads and looked to see if the hunky cover was there - it was :) - but all these people had it marked "to read" or "added" which was a little terrifying.

Anyway, thank you Jeannie for enjoying my story.

And that will be the last review I look at. A good one is such a boost. I'll stick with that.

Phallic Friday - Humiliation

I've read a couple of books recently with humiliation causing pleasure in them and it's not something that turns me on. I can't get my head around it. Humiliation makes me furious.

I can "get" that as a "slave" humiliation is part of the deal. But what turns a submissive on about that? What part of humiliation turns a dom/me on?

I've been trying to rationalise it, get inside what makes humiliation work. It's a really powerful "tool" and it's important I can understand it. I can't write it if I don't understand what's behind it, what motivates it and what pleasure you get from it.

I've no idea if I've managed to understand. This is my take but I'd love to know what you think.

Humiliation takes you to the lowest point. You're worthless. You're nothing but an object belonging to the humiliator - subject to their whims. You have no way of getting out of this yourself. You're at the bottom and no one is going to help you up. I think at this point you must give up all hope of self. There must be a total loss of you, a loss of your worth and a loss of hopes/dreams/future.

And the power of the humiliation is that you're lifted out of it. Even though you've given up everything, someone cares enough to pick you up from your disgrace/from your abject misery. Someone rebuilds you, puts you back together, cares for you.

Is that the rationale behind it?

I don't think I ever let myself get to the bottom. I think my fury comes from fighting to stop me landing at the bottom. And you know what... I'm not sure I want to reach the bottom. What if no one did pick me up?

Do you have a take on humiliation? Am I close to understanding the power of it?