I Should Know Better By Now


No, really, at my age, I should really know better than to engage in to an argument with a woman I don’t even know.  I’m not saying that an argument with a woman is unwise, or even unwinnable, I’m just saying a person needs to bring a sack lunch because he is going to be there for a while, that’s all. I’m sure there are a few people who know my predicament, or not, that’s really not the intended point. Yes, I’m about to fill y’all in so you can see my innocence in this particular argument. But then again, if only one side is allowed to speak, is it actually an argument? We’ll see I guess.

So, I was at the mall, yes an actual mall, where I was in the process of fulfilling a very specific list given to me by my wife, who figured if I was already going to Sears (in the mall) that I should save her a trip and me some money. Seemed fair enough at the time. I started in Sears, looking specifically for a certain kind of cutting bit for my router. I bought one like 15 years ago and it is just worn out, so I need an exact replacement to continue making the moulding I was making. Standing in front of the bits I took mine out of my pocket to compare it with a new one. When I believed it to be a successful match I put mine back in to my pocket and headed to the cashier. Before I get there I’m cornered by two Loss Prevention Officers who demand to see the contents of my pockets. After show and tell was over I was released to go pay for the bit I came to buy. As I’m leaving and heading into the mall I hear a woman telling someone that the man who was stealing tools is getting away. She jumped out of nowhere and ended up in front of me, pointing and yelling for me to stop. “Bitch, what in the everloving fuck are you doing?” Was about all I got out of my mouth before the manager showed up. Meanwhile, with this bitch still going strong I showed my bag, receipt, and my worn out bit. Finally I was free to leave.

Next I went into Sephora to get make up powder for my wife. Easy enough, I have a picture of what I’m getting and luckily I happened to walk in right where it was being displayed. Boom, bam, done, heading to the register. When I am paying I look up to see the same dumb bitch from Sears staring me down. She was now following me I think, but I could be wrong, maybe. But now she’s creeping me out a bit. So, I leave there and headed over to Bath and Bodyworks.

After a few minutes in this store I look up and this crazy stalking bitch is right in front of me. Me being me, I engaged in a somewhat sarcastically polite conversation about stepping in dog shit and how the smell seems to still be around even after a thorough cleaning. She asked me why I would tell her something so disgusting and I explained that it how I’m feeling right now with the way she just shows up where I’m at, like the stinky shit smell. Well, those would be the last words I ever got in. I waited in line with her explaining what an asshole I was and how I don’t fool her because she watched me steal from Sears. The sales lady even offered to call mall security for me because she just would not shut up, I declined, apparently because I was afraid of being busted.

I walked around the mall for a while, not really looking for anything in particular, just heading back to Sears so I could go home. As I passed the greeting cards store I see her in there so I ended up right beside her. I see she is looking for a condolence style card and I couldn’t help myself when, outloud, I said “I’m not sure if they sell I’m sorry for being a cunt all the time cards here” as I smiled and left. I don’t think I have ever heard such a big sigh in my entire life as I did at that moment in time. And then, wait for it, silence, nothing but silence. In turn, I chose not to poke the beast more and went to my car to go home.

A Late Valentine’s Day History Treat

It was recently bought to my personal attention by a very eager contributor to The Scorpion Army that I skipped anything about Valentine’s Day yet another year. It’s true, I do skip it, it’s a stupid “holiday” in my opinion. I truly dislike absolutely everything about it, especially the commercialization of how one is to show love or affection. It just blows my mind the amount of money dole out, and for what? I could mention Christmas and Easter as well, but we’ll get back to those another day altogether. Since I’m way behind on the whole email reading thing I’m just now getting to this one, I hope she understands. But, this is an interesting look at the iconic Valentine’s Day heart’s origin, or at least one opinion, and if nothing else it sparked my interest a little. I’ve said for a long time that the worship of the ass of females should be a religion. Anyway, I don’t know where she got the information below or how accurate it is, but it made me smile, so I chose to share.


The familiar double-lobed heart symbol seen on modern day Valentine’s Day cards and candy was inspired by the shape of human female buttocks as seen from the rear. The twin lobes of the stylized version correspond roughly to the paired auricles and ventricles of the anatomical heart, but is never bright red in color and its shape does not have the invagination at the top nor the sharp point at the base. The ancient Greeks and Romans originated the link between human female anatomy and the heart shape. The Greeks associated beauty with the curves of the human female behind. The Greek goddess of beauty, Aphrodite, was beautiful all over, but was unique in that her buttocks were especially beautiful. Her shapely rounded hemispheres were so appreciated by the Greeks that they built a special temple Aphrodite Kallipygos, which literally meant, ‘Goddess with the Beautiful Buttocks.’ This was probably the only religious building in the world that was dedicated to buttock worship.

What the traditional “heart shape” actually depicts is a matter of some controversy. It only vaguely resembles the human heart. The seed of the silphium plant, used in ancient times as an herbal contraceptive, has been suggested as the source of the heart symbol. The heart symbol could also be considered to depict features of the human female body, such as the female’s buttocks, pubic mound, or spread vulva. The tantric symbol of the “Yoni” is another example of a heart-shaped abstraction of a woman’s vulva.

A Married Woman’s Confession


A long time friend of my wife contacted me over the weekend to tell me she had an email waiting for me if I wanted to run with it on my blog. She mentioned that it didn’t really “fit” into any of my categories but thought of me when she started writing it all out. Going in blind I told her to go ahead and send it to me. After reading it, my wife tells me to just post it, fuck a particular category, because this was just a great reading experience. She is right, my wife always said she thought Sarah was a little kinky but could never put her finger on why. So, here we go! The material in the following paragraphs is for informational purposes only, and is not a substitute for medical advice, diagnosis or treatment provided by a qualified health care provider. In other words, consult your doctor or mental health professional before trying anything you are about read next.

I am 28 years old, very happily married, and I have a successful career. I am also a sex addict. To give some background, I was a virgin until 19. I had ZERO interest in sex or boys or anything all through high school. I also come from a very good, healthy, loving home. I was never abused or raped growing up and have an amazing relationship with my parents – especially my daddy. I have always been daddy’s little girl and I always will be. I was a very good girl growing up, and I always had good grades, took school seriously, and I have never done any drugs. I’m not even a big fan of swearing. A very straight laced girl right? 

Well once I lost my virginity at 19, it all changed. I don’t know what it was, but something in me exploded and I knew that I loved sex. I moved away to college soon after high school and studied hard. By day I was in class, earning amazing grades and a near perfect GPA. By night I was having sex with men I met at the clubs. 

Now let me be frank about this. I am a self-proclaimed slut. I am really not sure how many men I have slept with for certain, but the number may easily be 100. I have done a lot of wild things. Group sex, public sex, strip shows for fun at parties, sex with much older men (when I was 19 I had an on\off sexual relationship with one of my father’s coworkers who was 51). But the thing is, I am not in any way ashamed of anything I have done in my past. I was always safe, and never put myself in any dangerous situations. I was on birth control, and I always used condoms on top of it. I also got regularly tested as an extra precaution and piece of mind. My friends and family always knew that I was a very level headed and independent woman. But sex was my outlet.

Without sounding like I am being conceited, I am very tall (6 feet) and very attractive (considered one of the pretty girls in high school, even though I was not really into that clique or even cared at that time). Getting male and some female attention was never really a problem for me. Men were quickly drawn to me. I am also openly bisexual and have been romantically involved with both men and women. In my life, the only two times I ever truly fell deeply in love with anyone has been with my, now husband, and a woman that I dated for a while in college. 

I am also very obsessed with my sexuality and femininity. I dress incredibly feminine and sexy at all times. Not trashy mind you. I am talking, very tasteful dresses, skirts, a lot of vintage inspired outfits, and always high heels. I am so obsessed with wearing high heels that I wear them around the house at all times. I plan the next day’s heels out in advance and place them by the bed, so that when I get up in the morning, the first thing I do is slip my feet into my heels. They are such a crucial extension of my femininity and I feel so naked and uncomfortable without them. I am so triggered by feminine sexuality that I am obsessed with admiring and surrounding myself with beautiful women who embody femininity. I am also attracted to feminine women like myself and my romantic female-female love relationships were with women who were tall, had soft-skin, long beautiful hair, and were feminine like me.

I dress sexy at home and at work and I love it. I am always in a skirt or a dress and obviously I love my high heels, which easily pushes me up to 6’5” tall and turns me into a walking pair of legs that turns a lot of heads. I am obsessed with being a sex icon. While my work attire may be close to the line of inappropriate, I always manage to stay with sexy, sophisticated. I work with all men and they don’t seem to mind and no one has ever sat me down and complained. I am still always professional and they are all very respectful. In fact, if I actually didn’t come in too dressed up, everyone would wonder what was up. On the rare occasion that I change out of my heels, everyone comments on it and is shocked to see me, since they are used to seeing their leggy office girl. I enjoy being the eye candy in the office and I feel that for some of them, I can be the best part of their day. And for the record, none of them treat me with any disrespect or have ever harassed me and I am friendly with all my boys at the office. Plus being the only female makes me queen of my department.

Now on to my marriage: I am in a loving and wonderful marriage and I could not be happier. I am infinitely loyal to him in every way and never have and never will cheat on him. Our marriage is a bit different though, because we are a Dominant\submissive couple. I love being submissive to him. I wear sexy lingerie, or costumes, and other erotic outfits and high heels around the house at all times, and I live under a set of rules that he has for me. Now this is not in any way an abusive relationship. Far from it in fact. I feel the safest ever in his control. He never hurts me and we, of course, talk about bills and finances like equals just as any other couple does. I have input in our relationship, but in all other facets, I am submissive to him. This is a lifestyle I chose to live and I am happy this way. I can’t imagine living a life any other way.

When I have sex, I like it frequent and I like it rough. We often engage in bondage- nothing extreme or that causes injuries, of course, and I like him to dominate me and use me as he pleases. I love being his as he wants me. Submission is my outlet. Its liberating to me. We have been married for 3 years and our marriage is stronger than ever, thanks in part to our lifestyle, which we both enjoy immensely and because we know each other so well. No other man knows my limits for pain as well as he does, and can respect my boundaries without every breaking them. This is the ultimate relationship of trust. We also talk about our lifestyle every week and discuss things as a couple, and we are very serious about always keeping communication going no matter what. We are always checking in with each other.

I know this is all a lot of information, but sooner or later i needed to let some of this out. I seem to be a very rare type of woman. I am into very rough sex, I have slept around with around 100 men, many strangers, and I love exhibitionism. On the other hand, I come from a good home, am a sweet girl to everyone, and I have very high self-esteem and ambition. These things seem to be at odds. I read so many awful stories of how so many women become sexually compulsive because of early childhood abuse, or bad relationships with their parents at home, and are usually miserable and have low self-image. I had an amazing family life growing up, I am still close to my parents who are still married, I am happy with my life and all of my choices in it, and I have very high ambition and high self-esteem. I am happy in my marriage and my job. I love myself. And on top of it, I am not at all ashamed of my past and in fact resent the stigma that being a slut is a bad thing at all as long as you are safe and smart, which I always am.

So what is going on here? I don’t wear panties under my skirt because I masturbate at least three times a day and panties get in the way. There is also the thrill of people potentially getting a peek at me. I’m obsessed with being an object of sexual desire, and I am happy with it. My husband can barely keep up with me, the poor guy, because I just need so much sex but he does his best. I masturbate at work when I am alone. How did I go from never even thinking about sex or even boys up through high school turn into full blown sexual addiction at 19? What makes a good sweet little daddy’s girl with good grades, like me, go out at night and have sex with four men at once at a party? How did I manage to find random men at a club or a bar and so easily feel comfortable having sex with them against a wall around the side of the building or in his or my car? How was I able to have a “no strings attached” long term sexual relationship with my male roommate in college, and not ever develop feelings, but then became clingy and loyal to any boyfriend or girlfriend I became romantically connected with? 

On top of everything, why am I so emotionally stable? I have never had depression and have always been a happy and confident woman. So why does “rape role-play” with my husband arouse me so much? How exactly after losing my virginity at 19, did I get so sexually confident that I seduced my dad’s 51 year old coworker at his home and never once had a second thought about doing it? How can I, on one hand, have sex or give oral to nearly any man that was interested and I found half way cute without batting an eye, yet still have enough sense to use birth control, condoms and get frequently tested? 

How abnormal is this?

For the record, I do have a therapist who is baffled. He says that one hand I am definitely a sexual compulsive based on many factors, however I am an anomaly in that I somehow manage to avoid putting myself in dangerous situations, or letting it cause any problems in my life or negatively affect my life. Though he isn’t too happy to know that I am masturbating in my office at work, and considers that a bit risky.

Does any of this make sense to you? I am not asking for advice because of shame. I actually feel no shame, and as long as I am happy and confident, then I will continue to live a great life. I am asking for advice, I suppose because I just want to understand myself better. I want to get into my own mind and understand what drives me.

To leave you with just one more recent scenario, my husband and I recently visited and old college friend of mine who I reconnected with online and turned out to live nearby. We both dressed up and had dinner at her place. We had wine and some laughs, but I noticed she was getting flirty with my husband. She’s always been the flirty type, and I’m a bit of the jealous type, so when I saw her finding excuses to touch him, like slowly brushing bread crumbs off his shirt sleeve, the green eyed monster came out and I immediately started doing ownership moves toward him. When we got home he went to the bathroom and when he came out he found me, nearly completely naked, and bondage tape next to me and I told him that I needed him to tie me up and dominate me hard. My jealousy had turned into rabid desire at the thought of my friend wanting him and it made me so insanely horny. While he was aggressively thrusting inside of me, I begged him to spank me, harder, and harder, and harder, until we were way past our usual threshold. I don’t know why, but I wanted it hard that night. After more begging, I had him finish by holding me by my throat and spanking me until my butt was beet red and tears were running down my face. And, by the way, I had one of the most intense orgasms I can recall in probably years. This happened just last night, and my butt is sore to sit on still, and…goodness help me, but I love it, and I loved him spanking me to that needed emotional release. I’m glad he is my husband and knows that crying during rough sex is an emotional outlet for me, where most men would freak out. 

How am I so well adjusted as a woman, yet in need of such extreme arousal? How does a confident and independent woman in a great career and a great salary, also feel alive to be a sexual object for man to lust after? Am I weird for wearing high heels everywhere except when I shower or go to bed? Am I weird that I lose a bit of my confidence and femininity if I don’t have high heels on? Where does my obsession with my own sexual femininity come from? And why I am so happy with my life and have such a great, wholesome childhood, yet still become a complete slut in college? 

I just need to understand my own mind here. I was thinking of making my own blog one day, I wonder how that would go over.

Posted From Scorpion Sting’s Motorola Droid Maxx!

Are Tattooed & Pierced Girls Broken?

Before y’all begin reading the paragraphs below I would like to give credit to the writer, but I can’t, because I don’t know who it is. The paragraphs below belong to someone and if that author would like to lay claim to it I will be more than happy to give proper crediting. Now, I appreciate the fact that members of the Scorpion Army provide me with great material such as the topic below, but more often than not we forget to provide me the source so I don’t get accused of theft and/or plagiarism. In turn, I am obligated to use a disclaimer to remind everyone it isn’t my own personal work.

With that being said, this article made me think about my own tattoos, my wife’s tattoos and piercings, and my oldest daughter’s tattoo. Strangely enough, I am the artist of the combined 8 tattoos of ours. One of my secret talents is doodling well enough that some people think it’s halfway decent. Anyway, my point is simple really, I’m a very firm believer that the tattoo is a personal choice for personal reasons. As a society, we judge people for their choices, myself included, because we only think we understand it all. I’m a tattoo fan, that’s all I can say. So, anyway, if nothing else the article below is, at the very least, entertaining.


********* The Article Begins Now *********

“No girl has ever improved her looks with a gaudy mural injected under her skin or a piece of metal dangling from her nostrils. There’s no man on Earth who has ever thought about his girlfriend or wife, “Man, you know what would make her even sexier? A butterfly emblazoned just over her ass.” Yet despite this objective reality, thousands of girls continue to mutilate themselves at an astounding rate, to the point where more girls now have tattoos than men. Here are the reasons why you should shun these girls like they’re lepers.

1. They’re sluts

What kind of girl would be comfortable lying down half-naked in public for two hours while some fat dude with a dirty beard jams a sharp needle into her skin? Answer: the kind of girl who takes sharp objects in her vagina as a hobby. Girls with tattoos and/or piercings (aside from earrings) are slags who fall in and out of guys’ beds at a moment’s notice. If you’re unfortunate enough to commit to a girl with ink on her body or metal in her face, she’ll cheat on you at the drop of a hat. Tattoos and piercings are the mark of the whore, which is why in more traditional countries like the Philippines, only whores have them.

One of the first girls I ever banged was a self-styled “piercing addict.” She had multiple ear piercings, a stud in her nose, a tongue piercing, and both nipples pierced. While we were dating, she was also bragging about how she was going to get her clit pierced (oh lucky me). In the time that I knew her, she went on to bang two of my friends, as well as at least four other guys I knew, within a span of two months. She would later get busted by campus police for turning tricks on the side.

2. They have no foresight

Even in our degenerate society, people with visible tattoos and piercings have difficulty getting jobs. Not even minimum wage employers will hire them, because no one wants their Big Mac or Double Crappuccino served by an Apocalypto extra. Girls who get inked or pierced are showing that they can’t be trusted to plan for the future. They don’t care that their stupid choices will consign them to living off their parents for the rest of their lives: all they care about is theirindividuality.

Not only that, but girls with tattoos specifically have no idea that their cool designs will be destroyed by aging. Gravity and Father Time work their magic on us all, and your taut flesh will eventually sag and wrinkle like a raisin in the sun. A chick who can’t comprehend that the awesome Narnia scene tattooed on her back will look like Technicolor vomit when she’s 40 is too dumb to be the mother of your children.

3. They’re selfish

The reasons girls get tattoos and piercings—“I’m doing it for ME!”—are indicative of narcissism and mild psychopathy. Girls get tattoos for the same reasons they cut their hair short: a desperate attempt to assert how unique and special they are. A girl who willfully disfigures herself like this will never attempt to please you or do anything nice for you. She won’t care for you when you’re sick, will refuse to sleep with you for completely arbitrary reasons, and will generally be a moody, unlikable cunt.

4. They’re boring

Girls’ logic when it comes to tattoos is best described by paraphrasing Lena Dunham’s character in Girls: ”I have a tattoo, and that just makes me naturally interesting.” Nothing could be further from the truth. My experience shows me that girls with ink and/or metal are the most boring, conformist chicks you’ll ever come across. To be fair, most girls are dull as dirt, but tattooed and pierced girls are aggressively dull, assaulting you with the most hackneyed left-wing tripe you’ll ever hear.

My “piercing addict” girlfriend, for example, identified as a Marxist (I shit you not) based on one class she took on Latin America and was constantly talking my ear off about some “injustice” or another. The joke was that before she took that class, she was so tuned out to current events that she wasn’t even registered to vote. I derived incredible pleasure from shoving my cock in her mouth to shut her up.

5. They’re mentally ill

This is the clincher. Any girl who thinks that a getting a ring in her nose or a Bible verse on her back is a good idea is going to be off her rocker. In my entire life, I have never met an inked or pierced girl who wasn’t sick in the head, whether they had depression, “anxiety” or a full-blown personality disorder. While girls with facial piercings and tattoos on the arms or legs can at least feign normality, chicks with piercings or tattoos on or near their erogenous zones (breasts, labia, ass) are the kinds of broads who will cut you with a knife.

Going back to the “piercing addict,” she was a complete masochist who would burst into tears every time after we had sex, crying about how I wasn’t banging her hard enough. Another girlfriend of mine who had a tramp stamp was a full-on borderline, starting fights for no reason to try provoke me into hitting and slapping her. She also casually referred to black people with the n-word in mixed company despite being a racial minority herself. Both girls were absolute maniacs in the sack—we’re talking nails-digging-into-my-back kind of sex—but outside of the bedroom, they were one bad day from a complete breakdown.

The only good thing about tattoos and piercings is that they signal which girls you can bang with minimal effort. If you’re looking to make a girl wince during anal on the first date, pick the one with a tramp stamp or a tongue piercing. But if you’re looking for a girl you can wife up, go for the ones who haven’t mangled their bodies beyond repair.”

********* End Of Article *********

I Do Really Hate Getting Caught


I do really hate getting caught, especially when what I was doing wasn’t actually wrong or Illegal. But, as it stands, last night I got caught getting my tips from the club last week ready to go to the bank so I could pay some bills today or tomorrow. I will explain the money part of that in a bit because I know someone is going to ask about it. So, yesterday evening all the kids were gone, dinner was on the grill, and I remembered I needed to go to the bank. Now, I don’t keep secrets about money from my wife, she knows I make a decent amount in tips bartending. She knows I also get a paycheck, she knows I’m a 10-99 employee as well which means we save 20% of my earnings to pay Uncle Sam in January. What she has yet to figure out is why a bartender in a full nude strip club is paid what I get paid. But, the money is the reason I am there. I can’t help it I am able to negotiate what my time and services are worth. A while back, when I started back, I agreed to work Wednesday and Thursday nights, roughly 30 hours between the two days, for $1200.00 since I knew I would be paying my own taxes.

Plus, as bartender I keep ALL of my tips, but I also get 5% of the tips to the waitresses, and 1% of the tips from the dancers. Doesn’t sound like much does it? The stack of money on the table represents my tips plus the additional tip outs from the dancers and waitresses. The bundles are $100.00 if you are counting. Since I report and pay taxes on this as well, it all stays well documented. Which, is what I was doing last night when my wife came strolling into the dining room, home early from work. She had a surprised look on her face, like I just showed her a sasquatch body laying on the table after varmint hunting. Needless to say, she wasn’t ever aware that at anytime during the week there is a similar amount of money tucked away in the safe. Then the conversation got ugly. Supposedly I am hiding it from her because she has been unaware. I tried to explain it all goes to our joint checking account, minus what goes to a separate joint savings account for taxes. Still not believing me I had to get my tablet so we could explore the last few months of Wells Fargo deposits. A new bit of information came to light that I was unaware of, she doesn’t pay attention to the account balances. How the hell not? Well, seems that since I have always been the monthly bill payer that I would let her know if there is a problem so she never worried about it.

Yet, I am the one being told I’m hiding money from her. I still can’t wrap my head around it because it seems like a bizarre way of thinking. Then, this morning it hits me, its because I am the man and she is the woman, therefore I am automatically wrong. But, I have a frugal wife, she is not a spend-o-holic, she believes, as I do, that we will want to take trips, pay for college, and still one day retire. So, I have no complaints in that department. No other department either really, perhaps the jumping to conclusions part, but we argue and communicate very well with each other. In the end, we spent a few hours in the hot tub drinking margaritas and not talking about work, money, or our worries. We just sat there butt-ass naked enjoying each other’s company under the partly cloudy sky listening to the hum of the margarita machine churning out the next batch. All and all, after dinner, the hot tub, and the excellent margaritas, we went to bed with smiles on our faces. She mentioned this morning that I’m still an asshole but she still loves me.