As this is a smut story I am putting it after the jump
This is a recipe of my own invention. It comes from my general love of cake pops/cake balls (even if I can’t make them as pretty as others seem to manage). I didn’t come up with the recipe for the rum glaze. It comes from my family’s recipe they use for their rum cake (which is delicious by the way). Anyway I got the idea in my head for rum cake balls and those kind of ideas get stuck till I find a way to make them happen. I hope you like them.
Yellow cake mix
All the other ingredients based on box instructions, typically water, oil, and eggs
1 cup of sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick) of butter
1/4 cup water
1/2 cup Dark Bicardi Rum
2 bottles of Caramel Magic Shell ice cream topping
About 2 cups chopped pecans. I buy them already chopped into cookie piece size
Toothpicks (for dipping)
Foam block wrapped in plastic wrap (for putting the dipped balls into harden)
Make the cake according to directions for 9×13 inch pan size. Allow to cool. In a large bowl crumble the cake into very fine crumbles. There may be some corners that are too hard to crumble fine and you can throw those out. Set aside.
In a sauce pan melt butter and slowly add water and sugar. Bring to boil and boil for 5 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in rum. Mix glaze and cake crumbles (I only needed about 3/4 of the glaze I made) in to a dough like consistency (I wear gloves and use my hands.) Chill for about an hour or so. This makes it easier for roll into balls. Roll out approximately 1 inch diameter balls on wax paper or plastic wrap using the entire mixture to do so. Put one toothpick in each ball and place them into the freezer till at least mostly frozen. This helps keep the balls on the toothpicks when you dip them.
Take one of the bottles of Caramel Magic Shell and dump it into a narrow bottomed bowl (easier to dip in). This may require some heating to get entire contents into bowl. Microwave 30 seconds and stir till even consistency. in another wider bowl have pecan pieces ready. Take about five cake balls at a time out the freezer. Dip one at a time using a spoon to help coat if necessary. Drip excess of the the ball and then sprinkle pecans over the pecan bowl so as not to waste falling pecans. Coat entirety of ball in caramel and pecans then place toothpick into foam to harden. After the fifth one is dipped the first 3-4 are hard enough to remove the tooth picks and place on a plate or platter. Repeat this process adding more pecans and other bottle of caramel as needed. Doing only five at a time will keep the ones frozen while you work and you will have less balls dropping off the toothpicks. Basically it makes life easier.
That’s about all there is to it. Many of the steps allow for breaks in between so this is surprisingly easy to make based on a schedule. If you try it out feel free to come back and tell me how you liked them. They are alcoholic but barely so keep that in mind when serving.
I think I made it fairly of clear in the past that I lived with several families growing up. I was too young (what does that even mean) for the sex talk when I was raped by my step father. Too young to talk to about sex but not too young to be raped. I had already caught glimpses of porn flicks on the television though. I remember an orgy train sort of scenario that I had to piece together in my head many years later. Nonetheless, my mom never gave me the talk. My step father gave me the wrong talk. Then I was shipped off to my aunt’s and uncle’s house. They must have thought I knew enough or was too sensitive to talk to after my ordeal. I wasn’t even properly talked to about periods before I had one but that I learned from “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margret” by Judy Blume. I was prepared enough to expect bleeding out of my cunt when it happened, though no one is prepared for it to happen with movers in the house on moving day (embarrassing).
Everything else I learned about sex and my body came from my friends, their parents’ porn, and fiction books. I never had sex education class. I never had a parent sit down beside me and explain what parts go where. I never knew what to expect really. These are some of the things I wish someone had told me. Not the pain, everyone and their brother told me it would hurt at first. No, the little things. Things most people seem to take for granted. Things the movies try and hide because they aren’t pretty enough to show.
I wish someone had told me that my cunt would be inexplicably moist sometimes and dry others.
I wish someone had told me about lube (for those inexplicably dry times).
I wish someone had told me that a guy’s cum will leak out of you for like 24 hours after sex.
I wish someone had told me about the wet spot or why a towel was important (believe me it wasn’t enough to have read “Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy”).
I wish someone had explained the important stuff about anal before I tried it my self.
I wish someone explained masturbation was more than penetration with a brush handle or my fingers before sex.
I wish someone had told me what/where my clit was before sex.
I wish someone had told me about how and why to use a condom.
I wish someone would have explained that hair also grows in your ass crack.
I wish that someone would have told me it that my general cunt smell was normal (and pretty sexy to non assholes).
I wish someone would have explained an orgasm without the terms “explosion,” “bam,” and “OMG” as the primary descriptors (seriously peoples descriptions will make a girl wonder her whole life if what she is feeling is a “real” orgasm).
I wish someone would have told me it was normal for my clit to be super sensitive for a long time post orgasm when I was young and for that to suddenly change in my thirties.
I wish someone explained the term “multiple orgasm” and why that wasn’t achievable at first (see above) (also I thought it meant “at one time” which was very confusing).
I wish someone would have explained that sometimes your cervix can get in the way of a good banging.
I wish someone would have told me that sometime you get horny as fuck while bleeding.
I wish someone would have told me that rimming was pretty nice.
I wish someone would have told me that handcuffs hurt a bunch but soft ropes, wider cuffs, and neck ties are all pleasant ways to be bound.
I wish someone would have told me how to get around the jaw pain of a long blow job or how to give really good head.
I wish someone would have told me what a yeast infection was before I spent that night with a cold washcloth fills with ice cubes between my legs (seriously had no clue what the fuck was happening to my cunt).
I wish someone explained to me it was normal for my clit to be to sensitive to directly touch but that indirect stimulation was very nice.
I wish someone had explained how to have an orgasm.
I wish someone explained that not feeling a g spot was normal (then suddenly feeling it when older was normal too).
I wish someone explained how to use my hands during a blow job and tip vs shaft technique.
I wish someone had told me to pee after sex to avoid a urinary tract infection.
I wish someone would have warned me that just when everything is going good you might get a awkward foot cramp that kills the mood.
I wish someone would have explained that sometimes five minute sex is far better than five hour sex.
I wish someone had told me that water is a terrible lubricant and that piv sex in the water is not as hot as it seems.
I wish someone had told me that sex on the beach is a terrible idea.
I wish someone has explained that nipples on women are greatly varied in how they look and size.
I probably missed some of my questions that I had at one time or another. I hope as a parent I do a better job of explaining sex and their bodies to my children. Maybe this will help you to do the same with your children, nieces, nephews, and friends. Tell me some of the things that you worried most about because no one told you.
Just so everyone knows, I started a new job at the prison as a Corrections Officer (CO). It probably doesn’t surprise anyone that the overwhelming majority of new trainees are men. Even more so that there are even fewer women CO’s that have been there for a long time. I won’t say it is in the hiring though. Right now they are hiring all the fresh bodies they can get. Much the gender gap is in the recruiting and the perceptions that CO is a “man’s job.”
But the retention of competent females is another thing all together. I bet part of it has something to do with the story a woman CO told us as a class yesterday. The story tells of her own harassment in one particular area at the prison. The basics boiled down to men CO’s making sexually explicit jokes pointed at her and in front of the inmates. That last bit is important. The other CO’s were making the offensive and harassing jokes in front of inmates, some of whom are guaranteed to be looking for exploitative opportunities. One time that someone violates a boundary to that degree in such a dangerous manner is inexcusable. However, the jokes and harassment continued after she requested they stop.
She went to her superiors and asked to move and explained why. She specifically did not want to file a sexual harassment report about it but didn’t not want to be in the same department with people who were hurting her. She was moved as requested and nothing happened to her harassers (not that I am sure anything could have happened without her request).
All would have been fine if the woman telling the story had stopped there. Everyone in the room could have imagined her reasons for not reporting officially her harassment. But she didn’t stop. Instead she proceeded to recommend to the few women and sea of men that women think twice before officially reporting their harassment. Her reasoning was clear. That anyone who brings in outside help in handling their harassment, risks being ostracized from the group. That “everyone will treat” us “different” if we don’t handle this under the table. That our coworkers will be afraid to cut up and be friendly.
She basically told us not to report our harassment. She basically told us to run from it and do what she did so we won’t be friendless. She basically said let the next woman who works in that department handle it.
The funny thing is that probably everyone knows that last damaging nugget of info she chose to share. As women many of us have always had to navigate the very narrow corridor of what is considered the “proper way” to handle such things. Most of us women don’t report, know how much we risk by reporting. Most of us women don’t need another reason to hide our harassment.
We need a reason to bring it to daylight.
This is an especially pertinent topic right now in the atheist/skeptic movement. People in our movement have far too long been stifled, silenced by all the reasons to “keep quiet.” The status quo fighters have done their duty in hiding harassment from the delicate eyes of everyone else. Now however, women and men in this movement are speaking out about this. One person risking it all and giving her peers a reason to talk was enough to start a mini chain-reaction.
I wish the woman teaching us yesterday would have been like like you all who are fighting harassment tooth and nail rather than passing it off to the next victim. I wish she would have at least said that she had our back in however we choose to handle our own harassment.
This one requires a trigger warning about suicide. I have suicidal ideations. You can read some of my thoughts on suicide here. I wanted to talk more about this today since this seems to be a hot button discussion recently. I have thoughts and I want to get them out.
I think about suicide on most days. I consider myself committing suicide in such a variety of ways. But it is all the time. Sometimes it is worse. I don’t just think about it. Sometimes suicide isn’t just a crutch. Sometimes it is an urge. A drive. A desire. At those times I want to talk about it. I usually do talk about it. Unsurprisingly though the urge springs up at the worst times. When things are bad in life. The various stresses that cause fights to arrive in the family are also triggers for urges to commit suicide.
And that’s when I am afraid.
I can’t just talk about it. Then I am manipulating. I know it. I feel that dirty feeling deep inside my core. That sensation that I am a fucking horrible human being. Those are the times that I end up holding on to knives in the bathroom. Or the times that I punch myself in the legs till the pain makes my head less swimmy. Bite my knuckles till I can’t think of anything else but the sensation I feel.
The anxiety I feel when talking about my suicide when I most need to talk about it is the worst. Sometimes I still talk about it. Sometimes I don’t. I get to a certain point and I have no choice. Talk or risk.
I say all this because I am absolutely terrified that every time I talk about suicide I am using it as a weapon. I am terrified that the fact that I can think about it this much even when I want to kill myself means that I am definitely manipulating those I love. I am absolutely terrified I am the horrible person in my head.
But my sane self. The one who checks up one me and shares the rumination capacity of my crazy self, is there to remind me that this is always in my head. Suicide isn’t just there as a tool for manipulation. No suicide is real and present even when there is nothing and no one thing making me sad. Those are the times I need to remember when I need to talk about my thoughts.
That was a lot of rambling for the point I am going to get to next.
I am not the only one who does this, who deals with suicidal thoughts and fears talking about them because talking about it means you drag everyone else into your own horrible web of manipulation. A lot of people experience these thoughts and feels.
So keeping that in mind, accusing someone of using suicide to manipulate is a dangerous thing. Maybe they are using against others. Doesn’t mean they don’t internally struggle with the pain of doing so. I kinda don’t care if a person has a history of manipulation. I have “friends” like that. For them I don’t vest myself emotionally too much, but I would never accuse them of rigging the game.
I’ve only had one time where I confronted someone with their own threat of suicide. It was direct. It was public. That time took it to a whole new level of wrong. That time the person attempted to cause harm and did cause harm with their words. Even then my confrontation was such that I merely gave him outs from that which was causing him difficulty and explained the unfairness of his accusations.
And yes there are those who abuse through manipulation. But they don’t do it once. It isn’t an isolated incident. The threats aren’t “I can’t handle the deck life has handed me” but rather “I am going to kill myself if you don’t fix this.” There is a difference. It is surprisingly clear to an outsider even if it isn’t clear to the victim.
Maybe that was a longish point after all. Suicidal brains are tricky. They prey on our vulnerabilities. They make us shut up when we want to talk and visa versa. They convince us to do the thing we fear slightly less than what we fear the most.
I hope that people consider a little more the risk we play when we accuse someone of manipulating through suicide. Publicly no less. I am not saying that horrible people shouldn’t be held accountable for their horribleness. I just don’t think that questioning the validity of their depression, their suicidal ideations, is in anyway helpful to the person or the further reaching audience of your public post.
I don’t know if I have a good solution with all this but rather to ask people to try to be a bit more empathetic. Even to our enemies. Certainly to our friends and admirers.
This isn’t one of those “I know something” posts. So tell me your thoughts. Help me weigh the risks of pointing out perceived manipulation.
Today my instructor at the prison said that he didn’t like the term minority as he saw everyone as equal. I thought about it for all of a second and proceeded to write this tidbit down.
The fact that we see a disparity between PoC inmates and PoC employee makes it obvious that we engage in systemic, damaging, cultural discrimination against PoC. To say that you can’t see color or that everyone is equal is a lie. We all see color. By choosing to ignore it under the guise of proclaimed equality is to perpetuate injustice against PoC.
It was a short thought but immediate reaction my part.
Internet, you’ve taught me well. Thanks.
I’ve seen it called absurdist humor. The idea that rape is funny because it is unthinkable. I’ve believed it myself. Told jokes like “what’s better than twenty-six year old’s? Twenty six year old’s.” As a victim of child rape myself, I might have even found it cathartic at times. Laughing at the sheer wrongness of it. But that was an younger me and the older me tries to remember that my views on absurdity are not reflected in the culture I live in.
Absurdist humor works best if the subject is actually absurd. If the subject is universally (within its complete audience) considered unthinkable.
Rape isn’t absurd. People like to rape. People even like to videotape themselves raping others and displaying it for the world to see.
Rape is a reality for many, many MANY people. In all likelihood someone hearing your rape joke is either a victim or a rapist. Maybe a potential rapist, or an eventual victim. Chances are your joke about banging the passed out neighbor is going to influence your audience. If not the rapists listening then likely the victims into believing it was their fault.
The question is do you care? Are cheap laughs worth hurting others to you? Obviously some people think the cost is minimal when they knowingly encourage others to assault women on video for the world to laugh at. When they stand on stage and repeatedly brag about their prowess as a rapist pressuring the audience to see them as both protagonist and rapist. When they video tape themselves making horrifying jokes about how dead and raped a teen girl is.
All the above examples are of people just trying to be funny. Just trying to make people laugh. Recently we’ve seen Jim Norton attempt to defend people’s rights to rape humor* as long as the intent is to make others laugh. And don’t think for a second these jokes were unsuccessful to their target audience.
But who’s laughing at these jokes though? If you’re lucky, everyone is like me laughing at perceived absurdity. More likely, a portion of every comedy audience is willing to participate in sexual assault because they think violating others is hilarious.
And most importantly, while pandering to rapists, you may also be creating future rapists.
But do you care?
*as if targeting advertisers is somehow stripping someone of their rights to to create bad jokes
A little background is that Cary writes an advice column and he attempted to answer a bisexual woman’s question a couple of weeks ago. She is engaged and loves her fiance but feels she has:
barely had any sexual experience with women (or anyone else for that matter)
Cary attempts to answer the question by first musing on how much better everything would be if plural marriages were legally sanctioned. I have to agree. Allowing citizens to marry all the people they love is a desirable outcome. However, he doesn’t present this as just a wonderful solution to this woman’s desires for more experience. Instead he presents poly, and poly marriages as the solution for the bisexual conundrum.
We are that confusing.
It isn’t surprising that his post came under heavy criticism (mostly for being completely clueless). It isn’t surprising that he felt the pressure to apologize. Obviously he said something wrong but he doesn’t know what he said wrong:
I want to be kind and I want to be fair and want to admit that I can make mistakes. I hurt some people and I am sorry. I erred in not speaking to enough bisexual people to understand the sensitivity of the issue. I got swept away in the pure logic of it. For that I am sorry.
If you are wondering what getting “swept up in the pure logic of it” means, you probably won’t be surprised. Cary falls for one of the most common misconceptions about bisexuality there is:
If you are bisexual, you cannot be fulfilled by just one person, right? Because one person cannot be two genders, right? *
or further explained in the “apology”:
I am for maximum human freedom under the law. If being lesbian means one wants the right to be partners with women, and being gay means one wants the right to be partners with men, what does being bisexual mean if not that one wants the right to be partners with both sexes? Does that mean just one at a time? Doesn’t that mean either serially or concurrently as one chooses? Is there an unspoken rule there that says not concurrently but only serially? I am just looking at the logic of it.*
I am the conformation of that stereotype. I am both bi and poly. A bi-slut or someone who wants her cake and eat it too. I give zero fucks what you call me because my personal confirmation of the stereotype doesn’t matter. In fact three years ago I wouldn’t have fit into this nice little heuristic that makes thinking about bisexuals a little easier (would fit neatly into a invisibling heuristic though).
What would you have called me then? Confusing probably.
I get it thinking about us, putting yourselves into our shoes, is hard work. I am here to make it a little easier for you. To give you, Cary and everyone else who finds this all too perplexing, some help.
Let’s say I am only attracted to women and we will specify cis or trans women. Let’s just say I harbor an affinity for redheads with green eyes, but I’ve dated, been turned on by, and loved women with red, blond, black and brunette hair and all manners of eye colors. Is it confusing at all that I have married someone with brunette hair and have absolutely zero interest in finding a red haired women to completely fulfill all my attractions?
What about you Cary? Are you attracted to tall and short people? Are you bisexual if the poles of sexuality are deemed to be “can have children” or “cannot have children.” Could you be attracted to both and never feel the need to have both?
For a long time I felt attraction to men and women. I have felt attraction to people who are trans, who are cis, who are non-binary. I have felt attraction to people of multiple body types, hair styles and colors, multiple races, speak different languages, have different cultural backgrounds than me.
For a long time I only loved one person. In the past couple years, that number has grown to two. Not because I needed one woman and one man to complete the set. Instead I found that I loved both enough to work for both.
This isn’t that hard.
*Cary does some conflating of gender and sex here and it is important to note that they are not the same thing. For my purposes, I think marriage rights should have protections for gender as well as sex and of course poly.
Edited to fix name mistake
If the last two posts are any indication, I would like to start writing again. I work a lot anymore, and I highly doubt things will show up everyday. I want to write though. I think about writing a lot then get defeated and hopeless, and I never get it done. That is kind of what throwing yesterday’s post up was about. I figure that if the world if too much for me to critique for awhile, I will focus on writing something a bit more exciting. Maybe I won’t burn out. Maybe my readers won’t either. Anyways is good to be back and I hope to get lots of feedback on the smut pieces. I would love to turn them into stories one day.