Update from real orgaxxfree life
Almost a year has now passed since my fiancée decided to keep me chaste. She has followed through with almost frightening consistency. Only at Christmas and Easter has she satisfied me with her hand. In addition, I had 3 near orgaxx because she irritated me so much that I simply came in the cage, which earned me punishments.
The first six months were really difficult. I was constantly frustrated and I had to think about my "little one" down there all the time. I asked you here in this blog in November for advice about this. In the meantime, things have improved a bit. As long as she doesn't tease or irritate me, I can ignore and accept the situation quite well. Here and there she still gives me some relief by stimulating my prostate. She's a big talent at this, because I reliably don't get an orgaxx with her technique. I just run out, but afterwards I'm more relaxed.
Now I had hoped that she would give me another orgaxx on the occasion of my birthday earlier this month. Admittedly, I really wanted to and told her my birthday wish several times. But on my birthday she gave me two packs of Rearz Alpaca and two onesies, but no orgaxx.
That annoyed me a bit. So I brought up the subject shortly afterwards in the evening. What I got as an answer was not nice to hear. She made it clear to me that she was not willing to allow me an orgaxx in the foreseeable future. Perhaps I would have to give it up permanently for her sake. Her main reasoning was that, from her point of view, our sxx had improved considerably since I was kept chaste and I was finally giving her the attention she deserved.
Of course, I can't completely escape the reasoning, because our sxx life had really changed a lot. I used to be the one who made an effort to get sxx. Often she didn't want to. And when I wasn't licking her, I was also the only one getting an orgaxx, as I'm quite a quick shooter. After the first few months when she saw oral sex more as an occasional treat for me, she's now the one demanding sex several times a week, either doing it to herself with a vibrato an let me watch, using my mouth or putting a head strapon on me to penetxxx her with.
The other day I brought her a normal strapon. She really wanted to try it out with a little role play. I was supposed to come into the house as a handyman with the strapon over my diapers and under my trousers, and she wanted to seduce me. A crazy evening, hard to bear for my little one, but the fact that she let me look directly into her orgaxx face in the missionary position made up for everything. We used to have no sex toys and did no role-playing before! And now every time she comes to orgaxx. The physicality between us has changed in other ways too. She enjoys it when I kiss and caress her feet, legs and ass. On weekends, she regularly joins me in the shower. I get to wash her body and dry her off afterwards too. We also cuddle more than ever before.
Her somewhat provocative question as to whether I wanted to jeopardise all this with male orgaxx egoism again, I could only answer with a shake of my head. In a fortnight, she has reserved a table for us in a michelin star restaurant to celebrate one year of chastity. I'm looking forward to it and want to resign myself to this fate with all my might, because I really love her and want to get married next year.
To all fellow sufferers: it's essentially a head thing. Concentrate on her, be happy when she is happy. If she is happy, you will also feel sufficient happiness.
If you have any questions, please ask!
German Version / deutsche Version
Update aus dem orgasxxxfreien echten Leben
Fast ein Jahr ist nun vergangen, seit meine Verlobte beschlossen hat, mich keusch zu halten. Mit geradezu erschreckender Konsequenz hat sie das durchgezogen. Nur an Weihnachten und Ostern hat sie mich mit ihrer Hand befriedigt. Zusätzlich hatte ich 3 Beinahehöhepunkte weil sie mich so gereizt hat, dass ich einfach im Käfig gekommen war, was mir Strafen einbrachte. Das erste halbe Jahr war wirklich schwierig. Ständig war ich frustriert und ständig musste ich an meinen "Kleinen" da unten denken. Ich hatte Euch ja hier im November auch diesbezüglich um Rat gefragt. Mittlerweile ist es etwas besser geworden. Solange sie mich nicht reizt oder neckt, kann ich die Situation ganz gut ignorieren und akzeptieren. Hier und da verschafft sie mir nach wie vor auch etwas Erleichterung, in dem sie meine Prostata gezielt stimuliert. Da ist sie ein Naturtalent, denn einen Höhepunkt bekomme ich bei ihrer Technik zuverlässig nicht. Ich laufe nur aus, aber danach bin ich entspannter.
Nun hatte ich gehofft, dass sie mir anlässlich meines Geburtstages Anfang diesen Monats wieder einmal einen Höhepunkt schenken würde. Zugegeben, ich wollte das wirklich gern und erzählte ihr meinen Geburtstagswunsch mehrfach. Doch an meinem Geburtstag gab es zwar zwei Packungen Rearz Alpaca und zwei Bodys als Geschenk von ihr, aber keinen Höhepunkt.
Ein bisschen ärgerte mich das schon. Und so sprach ich das Thema kurz danach abends an. Was ich als Antwort bekam, war nicht leicht zu verdauen. Sie machte mir klar, dass sie nicht gewillt sei, mir in absehbarer Zeit einen Höhepunkt zuzugestehen. Vielleicht müsste ich ihr zuliebe dauerhaft darauf verzichten. Ihre wesentliche Begründung war, dass sich aus ihrer Sicht unser Sxx deutlich verbessert habe, seit ich keusch gehalten würde und ich ihr endlich die Aufmerksamkeit schenken würde, die sie verdient habe.
Natürlich kann ich mich der Argumentation nicht ganz entziehen, denn unser Sexualleben hatte sich wirklich stark verändert. Früher war ich derjenige, der sich bemühte Sxx zu bekommen. Häufig wollte Sie nicht. Und wenn ich sie nicht gerade leckte, war ich auch der einzige, der einen Höhepunkt bekam, da ich ein ziemlicher Schnellspritzer bin. Nach den ersten Monaten, in denen sie mündlichen Sxx eher als gelegentliche Belohnung für mich ansah ist sie diejenige, die mehrmals die Woche Sex einfordert, die es sich entweder selbst mit einem Vibrator macht, meinen Mund verwendet oder mir einen Kopfstrapon überzieht, mit dem ich in sie eindringen darf.
Letztens hatte ich ihr einen normalen Strapon mitgebracht. Sie wollte das unbedingt mit einem kleinen Rollenspiel ausprobieren. Ich sollte als Handwerker mit dem Strapon über der Windel und unter der Hose ins Haus kommen, und sie wollte mich verführen. Ein Wahnisinnsabend, schwer zu ertragen für meinen kleinen, aber dass sie mich in der Missionarsstellung direkt in ihr Orgasxxxgesicht schauen ließ, entschädigte für alles. Früher hatten wir keine Sxxtoys und machten keine Rollenspiele! Und jetzt kommt sie jedes Mal zum Orgasxxx. Auch sonst hat sich die Körperlichkeit zwischen uns verändert. Sie genießt es, wenn ich ihre Füße, Beine und ihren Arsch küsse und verwöhne. Am Wochenende kommt sie regelmäßig zu mir in die Dusche. Ich darf ihren Körper waschen und sie anschließend auch abtrocknen. Auch kuscheln wir mehr als je zuvor.
Ihre etwas provokante Frage, ob ich das alles mit männlichem Orgasxxxegoismus wieder gefährden wollte, konnte ich da nur mit einem Kopfschütteln beantworten. In zwei Wochen hat sie in einem Sternerestaurant für uns einen Tisch reserviert um ein Jahr Keuschheit zu feiern. Ich freue mich darauf und will mich mit aller Kraft diesem Schicksal fügen, da ich sie wirklich liebe und nächstes Jahr heiraten möchte.
An alle Leidensgenossen: es ist im Wesentlichen eine Kopfsache. Konzentriert euch auf Sie, freut Euch, wenn Sie Freude hat. Ist Sie glücklich, fühlt Ihr auch ausreichend Glück.
Wenn ihr Fragen habt, bitte immer raus damit!
Fic: Between Eternity and Eritrea
@klaine-word-scramble: bravery (+ rave, bay, ray, very, rev, year, bear, ear, rare, are, bare, berry, brave, bra)
Words: ~2200 words
Rating: Teen and up
Summary: Blaine must control his thoughts. But he can't control his insights.
This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place directly after Dawning and before The Luckiest.
My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (More recent posts are in bold.)
Lunch was difficult. Kurt ordered berry gelato for desert, and it stained his lips red. He gave Blaine a taste from his cone, and Blaine thought it was okay, but not as good as his amarena. As they walked from the gelateria to the museum, though, all Blaine could think about every time he looked at Kurt’s face was how much nicer berry gelato might taste when combined with the warmth of Kurt's mouth.
So Blaine avoided looking at Kurt’s face the way the other missionaries avoided looking into the window of the bra store on Heiliggeiststrasse. Instead, he made slow, deliberate conversation with Elder Meeks and told him that he was doing great with his German, which was true. It was also true that his accent was incredibly American, that he kept messing up his word order, and his conjugations and declensions were all over the place. But he was doing great for someone who had only spoken the language for a few weeks.
“You're brave, Elder Meeks,” Blaine said.
“Yeah. You left home and flew across the Atlantic to teach people about the gospel in a language you'd never even spoken before.”
“I guess. But then you are, too. And everyone else in this mission.” Elder Meeks slipped into English. “Even the ones who didn't fly across the Atlantic. If anyone should get a medal of bravery, it's Elder Halberstadt for putting up with my terrible German. And all the investigators who have to listen to me talk about the law of chastity my very first day here. That must have been as painful for them as it was for me.”
“The law of chastity on your first day? That's rough. But I'm sure you did fine. And sooner than you know it, you’ll be fluent.”
“When did that happen for you?”
“Oh, it—” Blaine stopped himself. He'd been about to say that he still wasn't fluent come on but he didn't want to discourage a greenie. “I think I was about four or five weeks in when it all started to rev up—how fast I could speak, how fast I could think, how fast I could understand. I remember giving a lesson, and somewhere in the middle of the discussion I realized that I had used the dative case with an adjective correctly in a sentence without even thinking about it.”
Elder Meeks sighed. “Dative is the worst. Well, no, subjunctive is. Will I understand subjunctive a year from now?”
“Sooner than that,” Blaine said, and patted Elder Meeks on the back. “But for now, stop thinking about it. I mean, I know it's hard, since everyone around you is speaking German. But don't worry about doing it well for now. As long as people understand you after your third or fourth try, you're doing fine.”
That got a delayed laugh out of Elder Meeks. It took him a few seconds to understand it, even with Blaine speaking slowly.
The group split up soon after arrival at the Deutsches Museum. The museum was huge, and everyone had different priorities for what they wanted to see in their short time there. Blaine headed to the textile bay with Kurt.
The exhibit truly was as fascinating as Kurt had promised. Blaine wished they could spend the whole day there, peering in at the different parts of the looms and spindles and figuring out how everything worked.
But Kurt was more fascinating. As Blaine avoided looking at Kurt’s mouth, he noticed other things that he must have seen before, but somehow hadn't registered. He became aware of the shape of Kurt’s left ear lobe and the pale half moons at the base of his fingernails. He noticed how the lines around Kurt’s knuckles grew deeper as he straightened his fingers and then smoothed out when he curled them shut. He saw that Kurt’s face wasn’t uniformly freckled from the summer sun, but the color was heavier over the bridge of his nose and along his cheek bones.
Blaine tried not to wonder how many freckles were on the areas of skin that Kurt never laid bare to the sun.
Blaine listened to Kurt rave about each detail of the Jacquard loom, and he felt that same level of enthusiasm for all the little nuances of Kurt.
“I guess we should tear ourselves away from the textile machines and figure out where the heck our companions de jour have gone,” Kurt said as they came to the last piece in the collection. “I can hardly bear to leave, though.”
“We could come back sometime, on a P-day.”
Kurt smiled. “That would be fun. Still not long enough, considering how big this museum is, but fun.”
“Well, no one’s stopping us from coming back after our missions,” Blaine added recklessly. “I mean, besides budgetary concerns. But there are cheap flights sometimes, and we could stay at the YMCA again, or a hostel, or with members we've met here.”
Kurt gave him an odd look, but not displeased. “You're so much more forward-thinking than I am. I can barely imagine what I’ll be doing the week after I get home from my mission, much less when you get back from yours.”
“Well, first you’ll visit me in Arizona.”
“Will I?” Kurt was clearly doing his darnedest to keep from smiling, and he was sort of failing. It was cute.
“Yes. And I will introduce you to prickly pears. And then, if you let me, I'll visit you in Ohio. We'll drive to the Kirtland Temple together. How far it that from Lima?”
“Lima's northwest and Kirtland’s northeast, near Cleveland. So three or four hours, maybe? I'm not sure. I've never been. You know it fell into the hands of an apostate branch, don’t you?”
Blaine shrugged. “That may be, but it's still the first temple of the restoration. Jesus Christ and Moses visited there. The holiness can't be completely gone. and after that, will come back to Munich to really explore the Deutsches Museum. And maybe the Hofbrauhaus.”
Kurt laughed. “Oh? Planning to become a lush after visiting the apostate temple?”
Blaine’s face warmed pleasantly. “We can go to the Hofbrauhaus without ordering beer. It's supposed to be beautiful, you know. With vaulted ceilings and painted murals and leaded glass windows, like a Catholic church.”
“Well, beer is the local religion. Makes sense.”
They’d made a plan to meet in the piano room at 2 p.m., and though Blaine was eager to see all the different kinds of keyboard instruments on display there, he wasn't as eager to meld back into a larger group. He dawdled where he could, pointing out some new and unexpected thing to his companion. They got tiny tastes of marine navigation, electronics, X-ray imaging, bridge construction, and geodesy.
When they arrived in the piano room, the other missionaries hadn't arrived yet. Blaine was glad. He had Kurt and twenty pianos. He didn't want anything else.
They began to look around when, suddenly, a grand piano began to play all of its own accord.
“Oh my gosh!” Kurt exclaimed. “How is it doing that?”
In retrospect, Blaine realized he had seen a museum worker bending over that piano just a moment before. She must have set it to playing. The worker now stood off to the side, behind one of the harpsichords. Blaine and his companion watched the keys of the Steinway-Welte grand piano move as if invisible hands were pressing them.
It was eerie. It wasn't like player pianos that Blaine had heard before. It sounded like there was an actual human at the keyboard—not just a human, but an expert pianist, because he recognized this as a Chopin piece that he'd never even attempted because he'd been too intimidated by the challenge, and it sounded amazing—some keys pressed softly and others with more firmness, the pedals lowering at just the right moments.
They read the sign. Normally, Blaine would have asked the worker about it. But he didn't want to interrupt the flow of the music. It was a reproducing piano, capable of recording each aspect of a musical performance—not just the notes, but the tempo and phrasing and expression—and then playing it back. They were listening to a performance from a century before, by a woman long dead. The piano was so rare that the specialists at the museum still hadn’t figured out how it all worked.
But they could still resurrect the dead and help them live again.
The observation sent a domino chain of thoughts cascading through Blaine’s mind. “Do you ever think,” he asked, after the final notes had faded from the room, “that the Plan of Salvation seems too easy?”
Kurt laughed bitterly. “You're asking a guy who seems to be constitutionally incapable of falling in love with a member of the opposite sex, so I would say, no.”
Usually, this kind of comment would have filled Blaine with a sense of guilt. Guilt over Kurt’s pain, guilt that Blaine couldn't take that pain on for him, and guilt over adding to it by saying something stupidly oblivious.
But now, Blaine felt recognition. It suddenly made sense why the Plan of Salvation had never felt quite right to him. “No, I didn't mean that kind of easy. I meant … too straightforward. Too easy to explain. Because most things aren't easy to explain. Even this piano right here. Humans invented it, humans built it, and yet no one alive completely understands how it works. And there are spiritual things we don't understand, too. Like, nobody ever been able to explain the Holy Spirit to me. The Holy Spirit is deity, but also, you can't be a God without first having a physical body that gets tested and proven worthy of salvation and, later, godhood. So how can the Holy Spirit not have a physical body, but we still say he's a God? Or she's a God. I guess he, the leaders always refer to the Holy Spirit as he, but how can he be a he if he doesn't have a physical body?”
“The Family Proclamation says that gender is eternal, and that our spirits had gender before we were born. If our spirits had gender, and he's a spirit, then I guess he can have gender too.”
The answer didn't satisfy Blaine. What was the point of having a gender if you were never going to have a physical body, which clearly the Holy Spirit wouldn't, because he'd already ascended to godhood through some alternate path that not even the leaders of the church knew about? But that was a tangent Blaine would have to explore later. “I only brought up the Holy Spirit as an example of something that's confusing and not completely explained.”
“OK, so there's lots of things that we don't understand. But the Plan of Salvation—for some reason, our church leaders have totally figured out the exact steps that every human being on earth needs to take in order to become like God? Doesn't matter if you were born into a rich family in Mesa, Arizona, or live on less than a dollar a day in Eritrea. You're supposed to give ten percent of your income to the church and get married in the temple. It's all the same requirements even though the person who lives in Mesa, who has enough money to fly wherever they want in the world, could literally walk to the temple if they wanted to. But if you're poor in Eritrea and can't even feed your family three meals a day, you're expected to meet all the same requirements even though the temple is like—I don't know. Where's the closest temple to Eritrea?”
“I'm not sure,” said Kurt. “Where is Eritrea?”
“Next to Ethiopia, across the Red Sea from Saudi Arabia.”
“I thought the Red Sea was in Israel.”
What was wrong with Ohio schools? Blaine would have to give Kurt a geography lesson later. “Northeast Africa. South of Egypt, sort of.”
“Oh. There aren’t any temples in the Middle East.”
“Well, I know there's one in Nairobi. In Kenya. Which is in eastern Africa.”
“I know where Nairobi is,” Kurt said with a huff.
“OK. So let's say Nairobi. What is that? Maybe a thousand miles south of Eritrea, at least? So, you live on less than a dollar a day in Eritrea and you're a church member and you need to go to the temple. How are you supposed to get there? You can’t. And yet God expects the exact same key indicators from you, even though the sacrifice is infinitely bigger? It doesn't make sense.”
“God is just. He’ll work it all out in the end.”
“I know. You believe that. I believe that. Almost every single member of the church believes that. But that's not what we teach investigators. That's not what gets preached at general conference. The apostles tell us that they know the exact formula for getting to heaven. That there's one way to do it, for every single one of us, and … I don't believe it. Because if it's true, it condemns way too much of humanity.”
Kurt furrowed his brows. “I don't think—”
“Hey, elders!” Elder St. James came barreling through the doorway. “Did you see the weather satellites? Those were awesome. I always thought that if acting doesn't work out for me, it would be fun to be a meteorologist.”
It took Blaine moment to process what Elder St. James had said. His brain was still stuck somewhere between Eritrea and eternity. “You're an actor?”
“Yeah. Elder Hummel didn’t tell you?”
“Of course I didn't tell him,” Kurt said wryly. “What do you think, Elder St. James, that I regale every new companion with the details of your life?”
Elder St James shrugged. “I don't see why not. I'm very interesting.”
summary: caleb is not so sure that he deserves the kindness you've done for him. you're sure that he deserves so much more, and you plan to show him in small increments so that you don't scare him away. the shopping trip is only the beginning. (part 3/13 of the kindness series, a thematically connected series of c2/exu imagines)
word count: 2.1k
warnings: caleb's low self-esteem, mentions of political corruption, set early in c2
note: i am only on ep16 of c2 so that's where we're at folks, also my german is so so so rusty so uhhh hope it's right but any germans want to correct me feel free lmfao
masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3
Caleb Widogast is a jumpy, jumpy man. You assume it’s for good reason - he’d confided in the group that he met Nott in jail and, well, typically people don’t go to jail unless they’ve done something.
(Although, the more that you adventure with the Mighty Nein you’re not so sure that’s true. It seems like corruption runs deep in the Empire, and you’ve only scratched the surface.)
Still, he is far jumpier than even Nott, and she’s a goblin in the Empire. You watch him, sometimes, and cringe when he flinches. It’s not pity that makes you start being nice to Caleb, but that does color your actions in the beginning. You are of the firm belief that he is a good person, that all of the Nein are, and that they deserve kindness. Caleb most of all. He is so hard on himself and no amount of coaxing from the rest of the group can get him to ease up. Not even Nott, and she functions as his pseudo-mother. But you want him to loosen up, want more of those moments where he makes a joke with a straight face, only to crack a small smile when the group looks away from him. (You try not to look away, craving those moments where you can see the smile light up his face.) When your group arrives in Zadash, you make it your mission to get Caleb to feel some sort of positive emotions about himself.
Or some sort of positive emotion that’s not scarred by whatever happened in his past. You want him to be happy, to heal from whatever keeps him held back from joking with the rest of you. It doesn’t even matter if he reciprocates how you feel about him - you don’t really care. You can love him from afar, be kind to him, and that will be enough for you. He doesn’t have to fall in love with you like you’ve fallen in love with him, really, that’s not why you’re doing this. This being stopping by Pumat’s shop to pick up some more spell scrolls for him with your gold. He had been muttering to himself the last time you were all in about not having enough money, but you hadn't wanted to embarrass him by purchasing them on his behalf, so a separate trip it is. Pumats, all of them, seem to know what you’re doing because they smile when you tuck the scrolls under your cloak and sweep out of the shop.
Your next stop is an ink shop, where you pick up some more ink and incense for Caleb. You’re not really sure how his magic works because it’s not something he was born with or given by a God, but you know that he’s always looking for good ink, parchment, and incense. Just because you don’t understand doesn’t mean that you can’t be supportive. You hope that’s what Caleb will get out of your gift, and not anything else. After you gather the magic supplies - you’d asked specifically for the things that wizards use just to make sure - you make your way to the Chastity’s Nook. Maybe Caleb was joking about wanting to be titillated while he learns, but you feel better safe than sorry.
The worker there is incredibly nice, if not shy, and helps you pick out something educational, historical, and terribly smutty. It makes you blush when you glance through it, but it seems to be the right balance of the things that Caleb has expressed interest in before. (Even if that might be fake - you’re not totally sure. Still, it can not hurt to try.) She even wraps it up nicely for you, offering to wrap your other gifts too. That might be too much, so you decline, but you still pass her a few more silver as a tip. You’ve never been so nervous as you are when you make your way back to the tavern where you’re staying, but it’s almost easy to keep your cool and mask the absolute terror you feel when Caleb is sitting with the group, eating dinner. You were kind of counting on him being in his room, reading, but you don’t let his sudden appearance stop you. Jester spots you first, patting the empty seat between her and Nott, calling your name. You slip into it, easily concealing your gifts behind your back. “Where did you go?”
A sly smile slips onto your face as you reach forward, taking a portion of the food they’d ordered, “Oh, you know, around.”
“You smell like perfume,” Beau leans over Nott and sniffs you, making a slightly disgusted face, “Why do you smell like perfume?”
“I went shopping,” You cut in before Jester and Molly can interject with salacious theories, “That shopping happened to be in the Tri-Spire, thank you very much.” Caleb raises an eyebrow, sharing a look with Fjord, but you ignore it. “What did you guys do today?” You don’t really listen - only enough to hum or nod as they’re speaking - because you’re focused on figuring out a plan to get your gifts to Caleb without the others noticing or making him feel like you’re doing it out of pity, or that he owes you. You just want him to be happy that he’s getting a gift. It’s later, when everyone has cleared out, that Jester shakes your shoulder lightly, calling your name.
“Are you okay?” Her dark blue eyebrows pull down over her eyes, incredibly worried, “You didn’t talk at all during dinner.” You take her hand in yours, squeezing it briefly.
“I’m fine, Jessie. I think I might head to bed, though.” You give her a hug before heading up to your room, looking over your shoulder just before you hit the stairs to see if Caleb had gone to bed when you had zoned out. He’s easy to find in the corner, nose deep in a book, and you grin. That makes everything so much easier, especially since Nott is tucked into the booth next to him. That means that their room is completely empty and a perfect place to drop the gifts without any of the unnecessary baggage that might come with giving them to him face to face. You don’t even think about the fact that he might have warded his room until it’s too late. (That being until you watch the string snap around your ankles when you make it four steps into the room.)
But, damnit, you have a mission to complete. There’s at least a minute before Caleb makes it to the stairs and perhaps another half a minute before he hits the door. You set the things up on what you think is Caleb’s bed a little messier than you wanted but you’re running out of time. The door is a no-go to leave, and you can hear Caleb bounding up the steps. You whirl, tugging your cloak tightly around you as you debate jumping through the window instead of opening it. In the end that will just draw an entirely different reaction than you want, so you settle for slamming the window up and slinging one leg over the sill. Caleb’s room is on the second floor, so the fall might hurt a little bit, but Caleb is right outside the door, so you don’t have any other choices-
“Was machst du in meinem Zimmer!?” He bellows, hands already engulfed in flame, when he kicks the door open. It startles you off of the window sill, luckily into the room instead of out. You pop up, hands raised and already talking.
“Okay, I don’t know what you’re saying but I didn’t know you had your room warded, I was just trying to give you the things that I bought you today, and then by the time I realized it was too late because I couldn’t just leave without giving you the stuff, because then you’d be scared-” Caleb extinguishes the flames that had started to crawl up his arms, shutting the door as he comes closer to the bed. You scramble to your feet, snagging your cloak in your hands to twist it nervously. “-I should leave now, excuse me.” You do your best to skirt around him but Caleb holds up a hand, eyes on the pile of loot you’ve left on his bed. He wraps a warm hand around your wrist to keep you in place as he tries to process what’s happening.
“What is on my bed?” Caleb finally looks toward you then, eyebrows furrowed as he watches you nervously fidget with your robe, biting your lower lip. “I am not mad, but what do you mean things you bought me?” He gestures loosely with the other hand and you take a step closer to him and the bed. You weren’t ready for being confronted with Caleb, despite how much you thought about what you might say to him in a situation like this. You almost swallow your tongue trying to figure out what to say to him.
“I bought you things,” You blurt, “Because you deserve it. I’m not sure if it’s all the right things, but I tried and even if you can’t use them for, you know, magic things you can use them for other stuff-” You watch as he makes his way over to the pile and begins rifling through it, mumbling to himself in Zemnian. “I’m not doing this out of pity, or anything,” You move to his side, peeking over as he skims through the book you bought, “I did it because I want to, I promise.” You wring your hands and look off to the side, avoiding watching the way he’s pouring over what you’ve bought, “You weren’t even really supposed to know they’re from me, honestly, I just wanted to do something nice for you because you deserve kindness-”
“-I am not so sure about that,” Caleb turns to you, catching your attention. He smiles, but it’s weak, when he looks at the small pile you’ve bought for him, “The spells will be useful for the group, but the rest… You are too kind.”
“I’m not!” Perhaps on instinct, you reach out and clasp his wrists in your hands, “No, Caleb, please. I didn’t do this to make you feel bad, I want you to feel good. You’re so bright, Caleb, and so amazing that I just want you to feel a fraction of the happiness you make me feel.” He hesitates so you press on, taking the chance to step closer to him as your heart takes off at a breakneck pace in your chest. “Please, don’t feel guilty. I did this because I want to, okay? I want to make you happy and make you smile, and make you feel good because it makes me feel good. You don’t have to do - to do anything and if you want, I’ll stop. You just say the word and I’ll stop, but I see you, Caleb.” Your voice breaks off as your eyes mist over. He looks awe-inspired at you, not stepping away or pulling from your grasp, “I see you. I see the way you bite back jokes, and sometimes they slip through. I see the way you care for us, for Nott. I see the way you sacrifice yourself in everything you do because you don’t feel like you deserve to be happy, but you do. Please, you are such a good man - I can see it. I can feel it, Caleb. You deserve the world’s largest kindness, but if I can’t give that to you I’ll give you small kindnesses, if you’ll let me.” Your lip quivers and your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper when you decide to fling yourself off the metaphorical cliff you’ve found yourself on, “Caleb Widogast, I wish to give you never-ending small kindnesses not only because you deserve them, but because I love you. I am in love with you.” The difference sits heavy in the air between you as you watch Caleb process everything that you’ve said.
“You… Are you in love with me?”
“Undoubtedly.” You confirmed, whispering. He’s stepped toward you a fraction of an inch, but it puts the both of you nearly chest to chest. “I have never been so sure of something, Caleb.”
“I enjoy the way you say my name.” He confesses. You watch in wonder as red begins to crest from underneath his facial hair, coloring his cheeks a rosy, pretty pink. He tries to look away, but you duck your head to try and keep some semblance of eye contact. Your hands tremble in his.
“I’ll say it forever, then,” You try to smile, but you really only manage an upward quiver of your lips, “Every day, if you’ll accept my kindness.”
“Es wird schwer,” Caleb says under his breath as he shuffles even closer to you, “Es wird so schwer, aber ich werde es versuchen.” You’re not totally sure what he’s saying, but when he presses a terrified, hesitant kiss against your lips the message comes across loud and clear.
Still no touching
I asked Master @fridol today if I could edge myself, but he refused. He didn’t punish me for asking, but I came across a punishment idea and needed to write it down.
Since this is a lesson, I have to wear a school girl outfit!
I have write down a full page the following sentence.
My tiny cock is a clitty and tiny clitties belong into chastity.
to really internalise this I have to eat the paper 📝
If I can’t swallow the paper or have difficulties by eating it, I’m allowed to drink piss.
I have to wear an inflatable buttplug and everytime I struggle I have to pump 3 times.
Um hi there, I hope ya don't mind me popping in the ask box, but I have at least 3 question regarding flowers and I hope that you can answer them please. My questions are as follows, # 1:what are the meanings behind Black and White Roses? #2: what is the meaning behind sunflowers and Lillies (and the possible colors that lillies can come in?) And finally, what are the types of flowers that can be found within the French countryside or near the water in France? Thank you so much for taking the time to read all this! (And apologies if this is crazy long and misspelled.)
hOf course not! We’re happy to see you more than once! Let’s see what we can do for you. One thing we can already say however is that there is no meaning for black roses, but that just means that one could be made up for your story. There are no meanings because black roses don’t exist. We’ve gotten very close with dark reds, but those are much more recent developments, so they wouldn’t appear in Victorian Flow Language, or any traditional flower language that’s not contemporary.
Victorian Flower Language
rose (white) – I am worthy of you, silence, too young to love, I would be single, a heart unacquainted to love, innocence, purity, humility, secrecy
rose (white and red together) – unity
rose (white, withered) – transient impressions, death is preferably to loss of virtue
rosebud (white) – (a) heart that is ignorant of love, heart unacquainted with love, the heart that knows not love, girlhood
rose (white) – innocence, I deserve you, deep respect
rose (white buds) – too young to fall in love, girlhood
Victorian flower language
sunflower (dwarf) – your devout adorer, adoration
sunflower (tall) – pride, haughtiness, false riches, lofty and pure thoughts, smile on me still
sunflower – I look only at you, love, worship
Victorian flower language
daylily (yellow) – coquetry
lily – majesty, pride and modesty, majesty & honour, purity of heart
lily of the valley – return of happiness, the heart withering in secret, modesty, sweetness, tears of the virgin mary, happiness, humility
lily (calla) – feminine modesty, beauty, magnificent beauty
lily (day) – coquetry
lily (eucharis) – maiden charms
lily (imperial) – majesty
lily (japanese) – you cannot deceive me
lily (orange) – hatred, dislike
lily (superb) – splendour
lily (tiger) – wealth, pride, prosperity
lily (white) – purity and sweetness, purity, sweetness, virginity, majesty, it’s heavenly to be with you, youth
lily (yellow) – falsehood, coquetry, gaiety, I’m walking on air, false, gay, gratitude
water lily – eloquence, purity of heart
water lily (peltated) – wisdom
water lily (white) – eloquence, purity of heart, purity
carma lily – pureness, multi-talented person
easter lily – pureness, sweetness, dignity
himeyuri – pride
kanoko lily – mercy, beauty
lily of the valley – happiness will come again, pure, chastity, humility
lily turf – hidden heart, patience
sasayuri – elegant
tiger lily – sage, wealth and pride
yamayuri – majestic
yuri/lily – pure, innocent, dignity
yuri/lily (white) – innocence, dignity
yuri/lily (red/pink) – void
yuri/lily (yellow) – false, cheerful
yuri/lily (orange) – brilliant, fun
yuri/lily (Casablanca) – dignity, pureness, nobility
waterlily – innocent heart, trust, faith
zephyrlily – tainted love, letters, expectation
French Countryside Flowers (by the water)
fleur de lis – flame, I burn
iris – I have a message for you, message, faith, wisdom, promise in love, hope, valour
iris (flaming) – flame
iris (german) – flame, ardour
– Mod Jana
This blog is intended as writing advice only. This blog and its mods are not responsible for accidents, injuries or other consequences of using this advice for real world situations or in any way that said advice was not intended.
Hey everybody, Wolfgang here (yeah that’s my name no I didn’t make it up for the aesthetic of my boy lmao)! I’m 21+, GMT-4 and pronouns are they/them. Giving a warm welcome to all of you pleasant peeps and introducing my little devil!
Name: Bae Minhwan
Realm of birth: Earth, Seoul, Korean
Preferred Pronouns: he/they
Species: mixed-blood (Healer / witch)
Sexual Orientation: pansexual
Skin Color: warm ivory, translucent blue hue just under the skin
Eye color: dark brown
Scars: scar on the back of his left thigh
Piercings: both ears
Tattoos: howler tattoo on hip
Hair color: purple
Transformed form: Minhwan looks mostly human except for the blue coursing beneath his skin, which is more prominent in the dark or when he’s healing others
SINS: greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath
VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / patience / justice / temperance
KNOWN LANGUAGES: Korean, basic Italian, basic French, some German, some English, a little bit of Latin.
SECRETS: Minhwan has a dark rage simmering inside of him that he only ever uses when he needs to, pretends to be innocent and captivating but can be extremely manipulative. He laughs when he’s super angry but cries when he’s pissed.
SAVVIES: astrology, cooking, diagnostics due to his precognitive abilities, can read people like a book, sewing, gardening.
Powers & Abilities: Healing, potion creation, spell and charm casting only through science magic mixture, medical intuition, precognitive intuition, manifestation.
Traits: prideful, manipulative, forcefully kind, vaguely apathetic
THINGS TO KNOW:
Will do anything for peach soda
Runs his own healing, spell and astrology business: accepts cash for immediate bookings
Loves cats and feeds the strays every night
Will beat you up if you’re mean to cats
Loves sugary drinks hates sugary foods
Loves salty foods, feed him chips and he’s yours
Does charity work
Has a hairless Sphinx cat named Rebecca
Hello and happy Blorbo Blursday!
What is one of your characters greatest desires?
Which of your characters would risk it all to save everyone?
Which of your characters loves hugs?
Does one of your characters have siblings or is married?
Hello Leia, thank you for the ask - these ones were very good.
Happy Blorbo Blursday! 😊
Let's dig in; some answers are short, and some are long.
What is one of your character's greatest desires?
Warren Howard: Against every atom of reason in his body his greatest desire is very utopian.
For the most part (bar his abusive childhood trauma) Warren enjoyed his life as a mortal, up until it ended in 1932. After that, although he had to keep his vampirism a secret, he still enjoyed living amongst mortals in the worldwide society they created as earth's major race.
In 2008 when the world learned that mythicals existed, Warren mourned the loss of his freedom as war broke out. Existing in what remains of the world in the aftermath of that war is highly depressing for Warren. He misses the 'glory days'. Without masses of mortals to keep the wheels of the world turning, many things have ceased to be; everything is rarer, and nature is no longer tame; instead, it's wild and treacherous. Now that he has conquered the beast that is vamperic thirst via the breakthroughs his company has made in farming cloned blood, he wishes that the world could 'go back to normal'.
Which of your characters would risk it all to save everyone?
Karou Moran: Without a doubt. She's selfless to a fault, and it will one day bite her in the ass. (Tiny spoiler for my next spin-off series)
Which of your characters loves hugs?
Karou Morgan: yet again... She thrives off of physical affection.
Does one of your characters have siblings or is married?
He had a younger brother called Robert (Robby). The two were very close, and Warren often took beatings in Robby's stead to spare him his father's rage.
Sadly, in 1928, Robby and his partner Walter lost their lives. Although it was never confirmed or investigated by the police, Warren has always felt certain that the men felt victim to gay hate crime.
Engaged but never married.
Warren was engaged to the upcoming actress Camille Edwards in 1924. Tension grew in their relationship when Cammy insisted that she wanted to save her chastity for their wedding night. Warren had different ideas by the time he'd persuaded Camille to give into him he'd already taken and fallen for a mistress. When Camille found out about Warren's mistress; Ellis Denver, she miscarried their illegitimate child, called off the wedding and after a short separation ended their engagement too.
One Sibling, also.
A sister, seven years her senior, named Madrigal. She left the family home at the earliest opportunity when she was sixteen, though she wasn't able to take her younger sister with her. They were later reunited by Cambria Morningstar, when Karou was brought to Enoch. Cambria had sought out Madrigal before turning her search to the younger of the siblings when she discovered that Mad's didn't inherit the traits she was 'looking for' - her nephilim genes were weaker than Karou's.
Twice married. Between books Two and Three of the Gods & Monster's Saga, Karou bore two daughters (Alessandra and Cassandra), each by a different husband.
Husband number one: Eamon Victor Tourmaine was a nephilim noble of House Tourmaine. He was the Master Treasurer of the Enochian Council from 2013 until his death in 2046.
Husband number two: Remus Hoftstadt Hemlock was the head of German nephilim House Hemlock, the former 2nd Captain of the Enochian Royal Guard. He fought in the Mortal Mythical World War and was known as something of a hero within Enochian lore.
We've made this Bingo card! It's intentionally blank with a list of 48 Happenings that you can either write in or cut and paste in. Your challenge is to make 2 different Bingo Cards using the Happenings, submit them to a google form (posted soon) by 4/3/2021, at 9 AM Mountain Time (8 AM PST, 2 PM GBT, 5 PM CET).
During conference, fill them out!
By Friday, 4/9/2021 (one week from today) at 5 PM Mountain Time ( 4 PM PST, 10 PM GBT, 1 AM CET), send in your completed bingo cards.
Anyone who gets more than 2 bingos per card (vertical, horizontally, and diagonally), will win a special prize in the queerstake server!
-Manti temple murals
-COVID-19 vaccine encouragement
-"its good to protest.... as long as you follow the rules of the institution"
-Choir sings acapella
-Pioneer ancestors are mentioned
-German sheperd mention
-A bishop speaks
-Poledancinng is hereby a sin because of Lil Nas X
-Enforcement of strict gender performance
-Pictures on screen
-Indexing or Family History Resesrch is encouraged
-Someone mentions mission to South America
-"Suffer from same sex attraction"
-Quotes from the Book of Mormon
-Speaker awkwardly references the song just sung/played
-"Be like the little children"
-A speaker references either their or their child's struggles as a teen and how they found relief in the church
-Catholic or Evangelical churches mention
-Priesthood or baptism mention
-Encouragement of prepping for natural disaster
-Another week long social media abstinence plan
-Animation/video on screen
-The importance of ministering during COVID is mentioned
-Someone wears a green tie
-Satan is the real imposter among us
-Piano is mentioned
-New Utah temple
-"As my family read come follow me this year..."
-The importance of temple ordinances mention
-Mothers: the most special members of society
-The Karen or Debra haircut on a female leader
-Joseph Smith mention
-Announced weekly follow the Prophet vlog
-COVID is implied to be one of the prophesied plagues of the end of times
-Someone mentions Alma the Younger or the Prodigal Son
-"How firm a foundation"
-A white sister wears blue with silver accents
-Mission in Japan/China stories
Update from real life - new games
While the stories with Honey and Baby here are mostly from my imagination, I now also lead a real orgxxx-free and regularly diapered life with my dominant fiancée.
Life in a chastity cage has now become part of everyday life. In most situations I have no problems with the cage, only when I get hoxxx it still causes me problems - but that's how it's supposed to be.
A few weeks ago we had talked about where we could still save money, after all, prices in Germany have been rising sharply for some time.
More out of fun we came to the topic of toilet paper and she suggested that I could lick her clean when she only has to pxx, that would save two sheets every time.
Champagne had not been a topic with us so far, even though I had always wanted to try something like that. But I also never wanted to overwhelm her.
In this respect, I answered without hesitation to her suggestion, "Yeah sure, let's try it!"
Obviously she was surprised and a bit pleased, at least she smiled at me quite happily: "You don't seem to be able to wait".
She was right.
Since then I always go to the toilet with her, as long as we are both at home. I then kneel in front of the toilet, may watch her pxx and when she is done, she moves forward and I lick her clean.
She likes this very much and I also quickly got used to the taste of her pxx, so that at some point I asked her if I could drink her pxx. She fulfilled my wish by pxx into a teapot and then I drank the contents. Since a few weeks I come so almost daily once in the pleasure of her pxx.
She than tells me, that she wanted to try to pxx directly into my mouth. Fortunately we used the bathtub, because it was a pretty wet affair. Her stream is so big and firm that I am unable to swallow as fast as it gushes out of her. Unfortunately, she usually doesn't manage to stop again in between to give me a chance. So a lot of her golden juice is always lost and I need a shower. She finds this currently very unfortunate, because she imagined that I could be always ready to receive, even if no teapot is on site (even if we want to leave it for health reasons already at one time per day).
We practice more often. Always when there is enough time afterwards that I can clean myself up. I definitely want to get this done, but progress is small. Do any of you out there have any tips for me on how to reach my new goal?
Update aus dem wahren Leben – neue Spiele
Während die Geschichten mit Honey und Baby hier zum größten Teil aus meiner Phantasie entsprungen sind, führe ich ja nun auch noch ein reales orgxxxfreies und regelmäßig gewindeltes Leben mit meiner dominanten Verlobten.
Das Leben im Keuschheitskäfig ist mittlerweile zum Alltag geworden. In den meisten Situationen habe ich keine Probleme mit dem Käfig, nur wenn ich geil werde, bereitet er mir nach wie vor Probleme – aber das soll ja so sein.
Vor einigen Wochen hatten wir uns unterhalten, wo wir noch Geld sparen könnten, schließlich steigen die Preise in Deutschland ja seit einiger Zeit kräftig.
Mehr aus Spaß kamen wir auf das Thema Klopapier und sie schlug vor, ich könnte sie ja sauber lecken, wenn sie nur pxx muss, das würde jedes Mal zwei Blättchen sparen.
Champagner war bisher kein Thema bei uns gewesen, auch wenn ich schon immer Lust darauf hatte, so etwas auszuprobieren. Aber ich wollte sie auch nie überfordern.
Insofern sagte ich ohne zögern auf ihren Vorschlag: „Ja klar, lass es uns ausprobieren!“
Augenscheinlich war sie darüber überrascht und ein bisschen erfreut, jedenfalls lächelte sie mich ziemlich fröhlich an: „Du scheinst es ja nicht abwarten zu können“
Recht hatte sie.
Seitdem gehe ich immer mit Ihr auf die Toilette, sofern wir beide zuhause sind. Ich knie mich dann vor die Toilette, darf ihr beim pxx zuschauen und wenn sie fertig ist, rückt sie nach vorn und ich lecke sie sauber.
Ihr gefällt das sehr und an den Geschmack ihrer Pxx habe ich mich auch schnell gewöhnt, sodass ich sie irgendwann gefragt habe, ob ich mal ihre Pxx trinken darf. Sie erfüllte mir den Wunsch, in dem Sie in eine Teekanne pinxxx und ich den Inhalt dann trank. Seit ein paar Wochen komme ich so fast täglich einmal in den Genuss ihrer Pxxx.
Sie war es dann, die probieren wollte, direkt in meinen Mund zu machen. Wohlweißlich taten wir das in der Badewanne, denn es war eine ziemlich nasse Angelegenheit. Ihr Strahl ist so groß und fest, dass ich nicht in der Lage bin so schnell zu schlucken, wie es aus ihr heraussprudelt. Leider schafft sie es meist auch nicht, zwischendrin wieder einzuhalten, um mir eine Chance zu geben. So geht immer viel von ihrem goldenen Saft verloren und ich bin reif für eine Dusche. Sie findet das aktuell sehr schade, weil sie sich vorgestellt hat, dass ich so quasi immer empfangsbereit sein könnte, auch wenn keine Kanne vor Ort ist (auch wenn wir es aus gesundheitlichen Gründen schon bei einmal pro Tag belassen wollen).
Wir üben häufiger. Immer dann, wenn genug Zeit im Anschluss ist, dass ich mich wieder sauber machen kann. Ich will das auf jeden Fall schaffen, doch die Fortschritte sind klein. Hat jemand von Euch da draußen einen Tipp für mich, wie ich mein neues Ziel erreichen kann?
Fic: Reid or Romney
Klaine Spring Fling: ballot
Words: ~1700 words
Rating: Teen and up
Summary: Emma introduces some new terminology to the missionaries.
This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place directly after Flash Fire, which I posted yesterday. I am planning to post a follow-up scene to this tomorrow or whenever I get done writing it.
My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (More recent posts are in bold.)
Emma and Karl knew how to present a meal. There were entrée platters and salad plates and bread plates of coordinating Rosenthal china, an abundance of specialized flatware, and two wineglasses at each setting—one for water and one for soda. The white tablecloth was starched, and the Belgian lace on its edges matched that on their napkins.
The food was just as pleasant, a mix of German and contemporary dishes with the perfect balance of salt and savory.
Emma cheerfully told the missionaries about her work as a school psychologist, which more like a district-level administrative position than like being a school counselor in the United States. She said she worked one-on-one with students sometimes, but mostly she focused on educating teachers so they could better support their students. She was working on a series of pamphlets that used humor to address issues students commonly faced. “Not that much humor,” she said, “because the administration isn’t ready for that. But just enough to get kids wanting to read.”
Karl, for his part, was more congenial than when Kurt had met him at his dental office. He was more handsome, too, with frequent smiles and civilian clothes that fit more snugly than scrubs. He told stories about his year of military conscription, which sounded similar to missionary service in many ways: strict hours, uncomfortable beds, constantly pushing yourself (including through tedium), and bit of a fraternity aura about things—though with a tad more freedom. Conscripts had more time off, and were free to visit and make phone calls home or go party in the city. Under German law, they couldn't be sent to battle or even out of the country. It wasn't a terrible life.
“I made a lot of friends there,” Karl said. “Maybe because I was the base’s most reliable designated driver! But they didn’t get that my choice not to drink was for real. When your conscription ends, it's traditional to spend the entire weekend getting drunk and asking random girls to kiss you when, and they thought, surely, I would drink for that. I didn’t, and at first, they decided I was a pill. But then, when they realized I had to ask for all those kisses without the benefit of inebriation, they decided I was the cool one!”
Emma slapped Karl’s wrist affectionately. “I'm sure the missionaries don't need to hear about your conquests!”
“Oh, they weren’t conquests. It was a chore. The whole thing was a terrible chore. And then I got mono a few weeks later, so.” Karl shrugged and popped an olive into his mouth. “Besides, I would argue that the end of missionary service isn't that much different. Don’t your missionary presidents tell you to go home, date as many people as you can, and marry the first one who seems like a good fit?”
Elder Anderson nodded. Kurt slapped his knee under the table. Missionaries should never nod their heads to things that sounded ludicrous, even if they were true.
“It seems to me that's far more scandalous,” Karl said. “Jumping from mission to marital bed in no time flat.” He turned to Emma. “Have the sisters broached to the law of chastity lesson with you yet?”
“They've mentioned it.”
“And what have they mentioned?”
Schwester Wilde cleared her throat. “We don't have to talk about that right now. We're still eating dinner.”
“Oh,” said Emma. “I don't mind. It's not like Karl and I have anything to hide from each other in that area.”
That's what Kurt had been afraid of. Moving in together before you got married was dangerous territory. Emma had mentioned it having something to do with her rental term ending before the wedding, but Karl was raised in the church. He should have known better.
“So,” Emma said. “The law of chastity. It's like with the Catholics, right? No sex outside of marriage?”
“Exactly,” said Schwester Rose. She took a sip of her drink. Kurt thought he noticed her coloring go slightly pink.
“Well,” Emma said, “That's not really a problem for me. As long as we're not required to have it when we’re married.”
The sisters looked at Emma like she’d just said something in Chinese. So did Elder Anderson. Kurt, who tried not to let anything an investigator said surprise him, was pretty sure he looked the same way.
Meanwhile, Karl was looking down at his plate, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
“What?” Emma said. “There are requirements? Do you have some weird sex ceremonies like the Moonies?”
Wait, thought Kurt. The Moonies have weird sex ceremonies?
Schwester Wilde quickly regained her composure. “No. No requirements. It's between husband and wife. I mean, I suppose we would say that the married couple should carefully consider whether they are called to create a home for children, and one shouldn't withhold from their spouse in anger or bitterness, but … no requirements.”
“Oh, I see,” Emma said. “I don't withhold out of bitterness or anger, I'm just not very interested in that sort of thing. I’m asexual. Or maybe graysexual. I’m not completely sure. But, well, I'm not aromantic, obviously, or I wouldn't be in love with Karl! I guess we’ll try it eventually, if we both feel it’s right.”
Once again, the missionaries found it impossible to disguise their shock.
Karl set his hand on Emma’s. “Dear, I know I told you that Mormons are prudish about sex. But they're also prudish about not having sex.”
“What?” said Kurt. “We're not scandalized.”
“I hope not,” Emma said sympathetically. “I spent so many years being ashamed of sex and my lack of interest in it until I met Karl and he helped me start figuring it out. It's really nothing to be scandalized by. All the feelings are natural, whether you’re a person who's interested in sex or not. Whatever degree you feel—it’s just the way you are. You know, I think I have a pamphlet about it I can give you to look at. Or maybe you can only give pamphlets and not receive them? There seem to be a lot of rules around being a missionary.”
“We’d be happy to take any pamphlets you want to give us,” Elder Anderson said.
Kurt kicked his companion’s foot under the table. Elder Anderson knew very well they shouldn’t be taking pamphlets of any kind, especially ones about sex, or about not having sex, or— well, whatever Emma’s pamphlets were about. His politeness sometimes overruled his common sense.
The topic shifted to other things. Karl was a news junkie, it seemed, and he apprised the missionaries of the top headlines they had missed thanks to their sequestration from media. The European Parliament election was coming up, which led to Karl explaining the entire EU governmental system to the American elders. It was a good distraction from the law of chastity.
“How do elections work for you, elders, when you are in Germany?” Emma asked. “In Germany, we have absentee ballots for people who are traveling abroad. Do you have the same thing in America?”
“Oh,” Elder Anderson said, as if someone had just pinched his toe. “Yes, I think so. But we don’t vote while we’re on a mission.”
Emma set down her fork. “I’m sorry?”
“Well,” interrupted Kurt, because he was worried that Elder Anderson might be one of those missionaries who thought it was literally against the rules to vote while on a mission, “in America, you can get an absentee ballot if you're not in your district when you vote, but since we're on a mission, and we don’t have time to keep up with all the news from home, a lot of missionaries choose not to vote,” Kurt said. “Unless, of course, voting is required by law in their country of origin. We always comply with laws. But voting is optional in the United States.”
Emma frowned. “That's too bad. I think it's the duty of a citizen to participate in government. Religion shouldn't dissuade people from doing so.”
“Oh,” Kurt said. “The church doesn't dissuade us at all. It's a personal choice, really.” He wasn't sure he was being entirely truthful. When he'd asked his bishop back home if he knew where Kurt should have his ballots sent when he was in Germany, his bishop had asked him to reconsider. I didn't vote on my mission, and I think that was part of why my mission went so well. It was a presidential election year, just like it will be for you, and some of my fellow missionaries kept trying to sneak looks at newspapers to find out what the candidates were up to. It was very disruptive.
Kurt had thought that was weird reason. Kurt wouldn’t need to look at newspapers. A Mormon was running for president. He already knew who he should vote for.
But Kurt followed his leader’s counsel because that’s what you were supposed to do. He only found out, while a greenie to Elder Brody, that plenty of missionaries voted while on their mission. “What? Your bishop told you not to vote? That’s ridiculous! That’s disenfrachisement.” And then, pausing to look out the window. “Eh, maybe it’s for the best. You would’ve voted for Romney anyway, like all the other tools in this mission.”
“What’s wrong with Romney?”
“His politics,” Elder Brody said. “If you want a Mormon for president, get Harry Reid on the ballot.”
Elder Brody might have been right. Maybe it was for the best. Truth told, Kurt already liked Obama better than Mitt Romney, anyway. He’d just wanted to vote for Romney because he thought it would make him more righteous.
After dinner came dessert, and after dessert, it was time for Emma’s official discussion. Kurt and Elder Anderson weren’t sticking around for that, though; they had another discussion scheduled for the evening.
Before they left, Emma looked for the sex/not-sex pamphlet in her office, but couldn’t find it. “It must be at work. I can get a copy for the sisters to give to you, Elder Anderson. Or bring a copy to church, maybe?”
“That would be—” Elder Anderson started.
“No,” Kurt interrupted. “Thank you, but we're fine.”