Many Primates Are Put In Enclosures For Public Eyes, And Shenanigans Always Ensue When The Public Instigate

Fuck You, Misogynists

Given today's U.S. election results, I can no longer conscience maintaining a kink blog with (fake) misogynist content.

I've previously been ethically uncomfortable about maintaining this blog as I know at least some (hopefully small) percentage of users who engage with this blog truly do believe in misogyny and male superiority, but I justified it as a fun sexy thing for MYSELF and for other women, nonbinary, and trans people who DESERVE to have fun, filthy fantasies.

Now women and other gender minorities are once again in a fight for our lives and not a single goddamn misogynist man deserves to get off on my erotic writing.

In my real life, I am a lawyer and an activist. I have power, I have money, and I am coming for you fucks. I will burn you. I will use every resource at my disposal to strip everything from you and leave you weak, groveling, and dying alone in your cum-stained underwear.

Know that if you've ever messaged me with the serious implication that you are superior to me or other women/gender minorities, I have laughed. I've looked at your lonely, pathetic, poorly-written feeds, cringed at your sins against grammar, and laughed at your braindead delusions.

For non-misogynist men: If you continue engaging in this kink space, please do it responsibly. Please make it known that you do not actually endorse misogyny in any form. In your real lives, donate to women and minority-led causes. Treat your partners with respect. Learn how to engage in dominance/submission play consensually. There are classes, meetups, and kink spaces where you can learn how to engage with dark kinks without being part of the problem.

For women, nonbinary, and trans people: I love you. You are beautiful, smart, and courageous. Your blogs are infinitely more sexy, interesting, and creative than the "real" misogyny blogs. Lean on each other. Know your worth. Don't feed the delusions of pathetic, lonely losers who couldn't dominate their way out of a wet paper bag. If you engage in kink in real life, find supportive feminist kink spaces. You do not have to settle for anything less than your wildest fantasies.

Signing off <3

Ceaser was pronounced kay-sir, not see-zer. The letter C was pronounced like a K, not an S, and neither was S said like Z.

Kay-s'r not Seezer.

The j was also pronounced like an I or Y

Yul-ee-os kay-sir or kie-sir, not jul-ee-us see-z'r.

Art by BlueSky user Adi Fitri

An important PSA to remember!

[ID in Alt]

The best bug is a dead bug

Can Biden or Harris speak to this?

Seems calling Nazis a Nazi is unpopular with the journalists and headline writers.

Make them quote you. Call them Nazis.

Fascism is here. Start punching Nazis.

"Human bodies are wildly unpredictable. Your now-fading memories of the terrifying might and power you recently embodied will make for a depressing comparison to the unreliable form you're now piloting. You might be able to run a mile and feel great, but then somehow dislocate your neck while you're sleeping."

—excerpt from The Demon's Guide to Human Possession

I heard what you did for us.

Do you need a hug?

yes a hug sounds nice

Entry 10-5786:

Since our last entry on entry regarding our human companion (Male), a lot has happened:

Starting the day after our last entry about him, he found the human section in our database and found that we had videos of people doing different types of work. "For studying your kind in their natural states," we told him.

After some time, he seemed to be fascinated with the art of heating metal up with fire and banging it with a hammer into different shapes; a craft that seemed to have been practiced by their species for many of their centires.

After looking into it myself, I discovered that one has to destroy a large quantity of valuable resources and burn the end result just to get the metal hot enough to work.

Telling my finding to Steve (what our human perfers to be called by), he replied with, "Yeah, that seems to be a pattern for my species; a lot of work to make something valuable."

A few weeks later, as we were gathering resources from Planet 115-X-18, we found him bringing in resources of his own into the ship, which was unusual for him. We didn't think much of it.

We should've asked what he was up to that day.

Over a period of several months, he renovated his living quarters to resemble the workshop of the person working metal in our database, fit with forge, chimney, a hunk of metal to hit in and a workbench with tools. His bed seemed to be moved to the neighboring quarters. "It'll be fine," he told us after we asked him why he moved his bed.

We lost seem for several days as we heard repeated banging and the faint smell of something burning coming from that area. Steve seemed to be happy, but he smelled like the burning smell every day.

"You'll appreciate what I'm up to," he told us at meat time.

The day after that, he showed up what he made: a knife

We immediately told him he wasn't allowed a weapon on the ship, but he insured us it wasn't what it was.

"Humans don't have sharp teeth or claws, so when we have time cut something, we need something to do it for us. A knife is one for those things. It's no different than the pencil you let me have," he told us, then demonstrated what it could do by removing a thin curls off the piece of wood he had with him. Where'd he had the desire to do any of this still make us wonder about to this day.

He seemed to make more and more refined knives as time went on; making more tools to help him to do so.

This seemed to both keep him busy and give us the opportunity to see his thinking process.

He seemed to like certain shapes of tools over others and seemed to learn how to shape wood while learning "blacksmithing" (what he called what he was doing).

These days, he's been hourding rocks and stones that were larger than his hand while we are out gathering supplies and seemed to be working them into a useful shape because the metal of the knife he keeps with him now resembles a mirror rather than the dark grey, black or dark orange look we see his tools in on occasion.

He's given us items we never knew we needed until they were in place. Just the other day, he gave me a hanger to hold my hand computer when it's not in use.

He's been staying dirty, but he doesn't seem to mind; he seemed to have found a source of joy in expressing his own species.

End transmission

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