Yura: Japanese Dominatrix

YURA: Japanese Dominatrix

I first met Yura at the very beginning of 2007, February I believe. Stereotypically enough we met at a bar in Shinjuku, a busy area in central Tokyo. When I first Yura the initial point that caught my eye was her height. She is about 176 centimeters tall, this is quite tall in Japan. So she was towering over all the other women in the bar and at least half of the men. The next thing to further catch my attention was her confident posture and the way she moved from point to point. Graceful but with a kind of power…the way powerful swimmers move. It’s also worth noting that Yura is not a small girl, neither in height or build. That’s not to say  she is chubby or fat. She is just strongly built. This woman can move her own furniture.
I honestly dont know if I saw her first or if she saw me but it was clear that we had seen each other and nature did what it does along with the help from Mr. Vodka and Ms. Long island Iced tea the two of us fell into an interesting and easy conversation. I had come with a friend and so had she but in the end we spent the better part of the night just chatting, laughing and flirting. Having a good time at a bar in Shinjuku, a busy part of central Tokyo.
After that night she and I dated a few times. We had dinner. We went for a walk. We had a lunch. It wasnt untill dinner at my place, I cooked Italian, that while discussing her very promising career in city planning did the topic of her “part-time job” came up.

Me: “Really? You have time for more work? Your so busy.”
Yura: “Well my part time job is actually my passion…I love it.”
Me: “Ok so what are you doing then?” I was stuffing pasta into my face at this point, I distinctly remember because I nearly choked.
Yura: “I work at a club in Higashi Shinjuku, Im a professional Jyousama.”

Jyousama is the Japanese term for Queen in the dominatrix since of the word. Internally I nearly choked but I had managed to remain fairly cool, externally anyway.
Needless to say the nights conversation revolved around her part-time job and SM in general. I will say to you now with some measure of embarrassment that I have and have always had at the very least SOME measure of interest in this darker side of sexuality and that nights conversation was extremely interesting to me. She explained patiently and articulately that she was totally sadistic. A true Sadist not simply someone who plays around sexually. She told me that through her entire life she had found pleasure both sexually and beyond when controlling and dominating other people, men and women. In school she had excelled at academics and at sports. Later on, despite having rather plain facial features and a body and height that most men find intimidating in Japan she would often be dating with a popular, well off man. Her friends expressed jealousy and people that did not know her well expressed out right surprise.
Over the year’s she had found out that many men, succesful, smart and seemingly strong men have a desire to be controled, owned and dominated by a woman who can truly do those things.
After that night we met a few more times and often discussed the SM world and her work within it. I was astounded to hear about some of the thing’s she had witnessed and been a part of. Aside from working in the club in east Shinjuku and from entertaining private clients she had also been involved in a movie. “Full throttle Queens” volume 20 the “SADS CLINIC”.

That world of control and submission, fetish and acceptance, pleasure and pain….it is a world in Tokyo and all over Japan that often operates outside of normal laws and limitations and the authorities happily turn a blind eye toward it when they can get away with it. Knowing Yura led me to meet other people that both were orbiting this intense body of places, people and desires as I had come to do and others who were fully immersed in it. Completely addicted and imprisoned by it.
Over time, a short time just a couple months, Yura and I fell out of contact. This had to do with both my schedule and life and hers as well. Perhaps there was more behind the scenes psychologically on my part that played a part in it, I am unsure. But ties were for the most part severed.

2 years later
It was with some difficulty that I got in contact with Yura again.
I had decided that I needed to catch up with her and I wanted specifics. I had since become a bit more serious about writing and I wanted to catalogue and make sure I could REMEMBER all these people and places and things and feelings that I had experienced during my time here. It had all become very serious for me. I didnt want to miss anything. Not anymore.
Yura had changed a bit. I contacted her first via mobile email and she was a bit stand offish but warmed fairly quickly. I learned that she no longer worked at the club but was only meeting a few elite private clients and she was focusing on her new ambition: Law.
She had begun attending Law school just after she and I had stopped talking and was also working as a legal clerk at a  well known law office in Downtown Tokyo. It took some time emailing, chatting, a couple coffees before I could approach the subject of an interview and her reaction had actually made me nervous.
She had smiled, the smile a wolf might have remembering something unnecessary and cruel it did to some sad little piece of prey sometime in the past in some forest someplace, in the snow, and she had said “Id love to do an interview with you.”
There were however conditions.

1. I could not use her real name. Fair enough.
2. I could not give specific names regarding her office etc. ok.
3. I could not show a clear photo of her face….huh?

Number 3 confused me as her photo is all over the Japanese area of the internet and she is IN A MOVIE for Petes sake.  She would not explain her motivations, she just insisted on these three point’s and I, obviously concurred.

We ended up having our talk at a coffee shop I know in Kabukichou. It’s just past the big MacDonald’s and up on the 2nd floor, an all night deal. It’s never to busy before midnight and they get all kinds. Privacy is something that is hard to find in Tokyo but this cafe isnt bad. Ive often had somewhat sensitive one  on ones there and its a little alcove of quiet in one of the most notorious red light districts in Asia.

Yura came to the Cafe wearing a purplish dress, fitted enough so that one could make out the lines of her bust and hips but not excessively tight. Not unlike what she wore the night we met at the bar. Her shoulder length black hair looked good, A stylish cut but conservative enough for her Law firm clerks position.
I had prepared a few questions and I had them in my notebook, I also was recording our conversation on an MP3 and I promised her before hand that It would be deleted as soon as this was written. Our table was right next to a window that overlooked that busy cobblestone street leading into Kabukichou and it was getting dark and people were funneling in.
We had some small talk. She looked nice. Thanks, you too. That sort of stuff. Then lamely I said “so…shall we begin?” It was then that it occurred to me that Yura had probably been interviewed before and I hadn’t interviewed anyone in YEARS let alone someone I had a personal history with. I wondered who was going to be holding the reins on this one…

Me:” So, you quit the club?”
Yura:”Yes. I am too busy. I don’t have a time for that now. No time.”

Me:” That mean’s your just meeting private clients now?”
Yura:”Hmmm Maybe. Yes I am meeting a few of the good private clients. I kept a few of them around. The Shachou (CEO) and a couple of Doctor’s and some ( she leans in and whispers a little smiling) Yakuza type of men. Like these type.”

Me:” Private clients pay better right? And you know them well so it must be more comfortable no?”
Yura:” It is like the club. Of course there is pay but also gifts. The gifts are good and sometimes they are better than the pay. Like all my bags…see this bag today is Hermes you know? It was gift from client.”

Me:” Which client?”
Yura:” I think from the Doctor from Saitama. Im not sure though.”

The waiter came at this point and we ordered. I had a cappucino and Yura had red wine.

Me:” OK….(I looked at my notes) I have a few questions and…well they are all pretty graphic and straight forward. You think its ok?”
Yura:”What is meaning “Graphic”?

Me:”Ahh… Detailed. Like very detailed.”
Yura:” It’s fine. Detail is no problem for me. What would you like to know Eric-san?”

The politeness from her now….is she flirting?

Me: “Ok…I remember we talked about this before…but please tell me at the club who was the strangest or most extreme client you ever had?”
Yura:” eeto…well I had three. They were all very hentai (kinky, strange..not a bad meaning in her line of work) but they were all different kind of hentai.”

Me:” Right…so can you explain? Can you tell me about all three and what was different about them? Wait first, so when a man comes to the club there is no like, set menu or anything? I mean they can make requests for things?”
Yura:”Hahaha Set menu…hmmm nanka ne…we have it. For someone who is a beginner. But if someone has an idea of fantasy, they can explain and then we can do it. If it is very serious or hard play it can cost more or maybe the Jyousama will refuse and they will ask another person working at the club but both is ok. Set menu or not set.”

Me:”Ok so please, tell me about these three men.”
Yura:” Ok…first man…It was about 1 year before meeting you. It was the most difficult client I ever had. For me it was so difficult. I had seen that I had a large appointment that evening, 3 hours time and there was a note of “Special case” on the email. I had no idea about it. I did not know the detail of Special Case but I had met many client so I had no worry. When I went to this room I was shocked to see two people. One oba-san (middle aged or older woman) holding a bag and also a very slim young man in a wheelchair. His body was hurt, I mean it was not the normal body. His legs were strange and he sat in the chair a little strange. I was standing in front of them in sexy black thigh boots and latex SM costume and both of them just are there in front of me. It was too strange.”

She stopped now and had some wine and looked out the window.

Me: “ok…so what did they want from you?”
Yura:” The man he could not talk so well. He used a kind of computer key board and also the woman that I learned was his mother, helped him speak to me. Because he is sick and his body is strange his whole life people give him pity. Always so much pity. When he uses the train all staff of train help him and people move for him and look at him with sad eyes. Sometimes people move away from him silently because he makes them feel bad. He knows this. Nobody has even been hard to him and he came to the point in his life where all he wants is someone, a woman to treat him badly. He wants to be bullied, insulted, smacked and hit…seriously…insulted as a cripple and strange figure person!”

Me:”Jesus.”
Yura:” Yes right! I had to ask them to give me a moment alone and I went to other room. I though maybe I cant do this. It is wrong! I really felt its wrong. Then his Mother came to speak to me. She explained that he had been dreaming of this for years. She had tried to convince him not to do it or to think of it for so long but he could not be changed. She begged me and offered me more money…and almost she was crying. I gave up to her and I said I would do it.”

Me:” Ok so what did you do to him? How did he react? What did his mother do?”
Yura:” I had to have a drink vodka before going back! but then I made decision to be professional and I felt that maybe if this is what he needs then it is not bad. So in the room my mind changed and I looked down on him so hard. I called him many names like cripple and pig and weak and bitch. I pulled his hair and slapped his face. I looked to his mother often because I did not want to go over the limit of this…”

Me:”Wait wait…his mother STAYED in the room???”
Yura:” UN! Okashi kunai!?! (yeah, its so strange right?!?!) She stayed in the room. She just stood to the side of the room and was staring so hard and breathing very loud.”

Me:”That is so weird…”
Yura:” yes yes weird. Then he is saying to me like “More more” in strange voice so finally I knocked him from wheelchair and he was on the floor I put my boot into his mouth and told him to suck on it and he did it. After than he just laying there and I looked at his mother and she just nodding the head yes yes to me. So then I left.”

Me:” You didnt help him up into the chair?”
Yura:” No. I think that would be against his fantasy. I just left. His mother left a money gift for me with the manager. It was quite alot.”

Me:”God thats heavy.”
Yura:”un sugokunai?? (yeah amazing right?). The next strange client I felt was strange but not so much. Do you want to hear it?”

Me:”Oh yeah…please, do tell.”
Yura:” He was Yakuza member. He had all the tattoos and he had quite alot of money and he came to see me often. He was bigger man, almost as big as you Eric-san. He told me that he was secret gay. It was secret because he had a fear to tell some Yakuza member of his group but he want to be slave for men…its all he thought about. Often when he would visit me I would wear a penis belt (strap on dildo) and would have anal sex to him. I did Shibari (japanese rope work) and gag ball and anal sex to him very hard to make him screaming. It was almost always like this. Finally on one visit he came and he seemed a bit different. Before we began our play as usual he handed me a gift. Nice box with wrapping. He always did like this. Usually it was a chocolate or sometimes necklace or something. Todays box was heavy and I felt excited. He was sitting like Seiza (Japanese sitting position, feet under the body sitting on the legs) and I was standing over him and I opened the box. I was shocked to see that the inside was a large shiny knife. It had a curve blade and gold handle and was very sharp. I grab it and hold it up and ask him “What is this??”

Me:”What did he say?”
Yura:” He told me…it was so strange…he told me that he could not hide about being gay anymore and during drinking with some other member of his group, they went to drinking and sex with girls at a soap land in Ikebukuro, he had told one member that he would like to have sex with him. He said that member was drunk so he did the anal sex to him in front of prostitute girls and 2 other group member! This is not good for him because now some member of his group knows he is gay and he is afraid they will tell others and it will be bad for him.”

Me:”So why the knife??”
Yura:”For me to kill him! He said he wants to commit suicide but he is too weak, so he begged me to kill him…that day. he begged. He offered money. He even had a note he wrote, suicide note and he had planned it so I could cut his nantiu onaka?”

Me:”Stomach.”
Yura:”Sou! stomach. cut it like a Seppuku style. So I would not get the trouble. Actually he offer to give me 2,000,000 yen. (about 20,000 dollars)”

Me:”So..?
Yura:” Of course I cant do it! I am not a killer. And in my mind I began to feel excite to think of his gang member knowing he is a weak bitch. It was pleasing point for me. I told him this and I ordered him to not kill himself. I told him I would keep the knife as well.”

Me:”So what happened with this guy?”
Yura:”Im not sure but I introduced him to very Sado Gay yakuza man I know. I have not heard about it since then.”

Me:”Yura, Im glad you didnt kill him haha…”
Yura:”yes of course I dont it. Im not killer. Some Mazo man is so crazy. Cannot think like a normal human anymore.”

Me:”Ok ok….you said three men. Who was the third man?”
Yura: Smilin big “Ah! it was not SO strange only who he is its strange and fun for me! He was a man who loved to be tied and beaten and anal sex when I wear penis belt.”

Me:”Right. It seems like that is pretty normal for you and your clients so…”
Yura:”Yes yes but he was American Navy officer!”

Me:”haha you’re kidding right?”
Yura:”no way. Really he was American Navy officer from Yokosuka base. And he would come to see me, because Im also speaking English, and he loved to be slave for me. Often he wore his uniform too. The play was not so strange but it was him being Navy man that was strange. Anyway thats the number 3 man.”

Me:”Navy. Thank god he wasn’t a Marine. Yura, thanks for talking to me tonight I know your busy.
Yura:”It’s no problem. I like to meet you and I want to help with your writing.”

Me:”So we can meet again, maybe another interview in the future?”
Yura:”Of course…maybe I can interview YOU after we have play session??”

There is the big Wolves grin again…big sharp looking white teeth…

Me:”haha…Let’s stay in touch.”

We paid and left together and after saying goodbye on the street went seperate ways.  The reoccuring thought in my head the whole evening was: God help that womens future husband….or depending on the man, maybe God already has.

Yura: Japanese Dominatrix

Club Fetish Nation Raises the Dead in October

9/28/2009

13:14 PM PST

–press release

Hollywood, California – Club Fetish Nation raises the grateful dead Saturday, October 10, 2009, for a night of twisted debauchery, featuring haunting hostess Hollie Stevens and a sideshow of necrotic delights presented by ‘Girls and Corpses Magazine’.

Stevens is looking forward to the event, “I’m thrilled that I was asked to be a featured guest for a Fetish Nation shindig. Everyone is talking about this party! When they asked me to be a part of it, I had to come down from San Francisco to attend. I’ll be signing my hit cult adult film ‘Clown Porn’, and my stuff from Girls and Corpses Magazine. Don’t miss out!”

As Executive Producer for the event, Cameron laid out the entertainment plans for the evening, “We are kicking off the Halloween season with an extravaganza of oddities. Along with our beautiful hostess, Hollie Stevens and the strange sideshow that Girls and Corpses is staging, we booked daredevil aerialist Leigh from Bound Lotus, stilt walkers, contortionists and scary clowns, sexy clowns and silly clowns heading to Fetish Nation this month. It is a dark carnival of epic proportions.”

After experiencing the depraved displays under the big top, denizens of Club Fetish Nation can catch their collective breath amid the art installations and vendors in the Dark Arts Corridor, or partake of the visual stimulations provided by legendary fetish artist Eric Kroll, who will unleash his latest video offerings in coordination with American Fetish Films.

Club Fetish Nation is powered by the generous sponsorship of www.Stockroom.com, Marquis America, Fetish Nation, Porno Dan and Immoral Productions and Vamps and Tramps, among many others.

Club Fetish Nation is located in the Circus Disco, at 6655 Santa Monica Blvd, in Hollywood. The doors open at 9:00 PM, and the party doesn’t stop until 4:00 AM.

For special discounts and other information on the event, please visit the official club website, www.clubfetishnation.com.

BDSM without being mean

This was the best way I could come up with describing what I was looking for to my husband last week and really started the ball rolling.

Last month we started doing some role playing – something a bit more intense than our usual bedroom antics but still pretty tried and true.  There were elements of degradation and of his knowing that I wanted to be spanked and dominated and lording it over me.  We played out these scenarios for a few weeks on those nights when we weren’t too exhausted from work and kids.  It was very satisfying, but a little off as well.  While playing the whore who needs to be told just how bad she is for wanting to be dominated is fun, there’s good reason why that scenario is a cliche.  Something didn’t quite ring true for me, and I knew I wanted something different.

I tried very hard to find the right words to tell my husband what it was that I was looking for.  I wanted the dominance and the physical discipline but without the play acting.  Fun though it was, I felt like it was a bit of work to keep up that facade.  I wanted desperately to be dominated, but I didn’t want to be called a whore or a slut for wanting it.  I wanted there to be lovemaking rather than just fucking.  There was something that I was searching for, but I still couldn’t define it.

I was able to get across some of what I was looking for in a way that made sense to him, and the experience was so close to what I wanted.  We did a lot more talking and soul searching but still couldn’t quite define what we were looking for.  I finally read something on a message board that really helped me gather my thoughts – just a simple request for advice that finally turned out to have something to do with a very simple D/s scenario involving what clothing to wear.  This thought bubbled in my mind for several days and I tried to find the words to describe what I wanted to my husband.  He could see it meant a lot to me, but he too was unsure of exactly what we were looking for and afraid of going too far.  We knew right off what we weren’t looking for so that did help clarify things a bit.

I finally got up the nerve to contact someone so I could ask questions and get some guidance.  In one of my messages I told her that we were looking for BDSM without being mean, if that made any sense.  Thankfully, she knew exactly what I meant and with that connection I was able to better solidify what it is that I was looking for.  I want to be dominated, but without verbal abuse.  I want to completely submit to my husband and feel safe in my complete trust in him, knowing that he will always do his best to protect me.  I want the dominance to be more than just the bedroom but to keep on being the woman that I am – smart, funny, mother of two, and the wife I’ve been to him for the past ten years.  Most of all, I don’t want this to be work, because nothing would kill it faster than it being something that requires significant effort from either of us.

We did a lot more talking and started to define what it was we were looking for.  I was surprised by some of the discoveries I’ve made about what I am looking for sexually and just how deep my need to completely submit is.  I think my husband has been the most surprised by the thought of wanting his dominance to extend to our everyday lives and not just as a precursor to sex, and that’s really the pivotal point.  We found out just what an expression of complete trust this is and how huge it is for me to be able to completely let go and truly be his.  I was able to reach that point last night and was almost sobbing with the joy and frankly a bit of terror at the prospect during orgasm.  Spooning in bed with him afterwards, being stroked and calmed by him was one of the sweetest moments of my life.

I am his, completely.  He realizes that his ownership is a sacred trust and the biggest gift I could ever give him.  While I know that the intensity of our feelings will die down a bit as our new understanding of each other looses it’s newness, I want to hold onto the feelings of a second honeymoon for as long as I can.

Do Bad Guys Always Get the Girl?

When Mr. Nice loses out to Mr. Naughty in the dating game

If we are to believe the movies, the ruthless tough guy always gets the girl. And didn’t it seem that the bad boys at school always had the hottest babes? The best looking girls always seem to love the bad guys. Maybe because the best looking guys always became the bad guys? Everywhere we tend to see bad guys and nice girls. We see fools and meatheads with the girls of our fantasies. In the mall we see our flaxen haired goddesses with America’s Most Wanted. Is it nature at work, is it us, what has gone awry?

Men are confused. We like to refer to stereotypes and work from them. Men are told that we need to be a hero and a tough guy. But then we are told we need to be in touch with our sensitive sides. Meanwhile the man down the street who treats his girlfriends like crap, never calls, is rude and disrespect appears to have a fan club developing. Life, my friends, can seem unfair. But let’s look at what is going on with this scenario.

Interest. Bad guys are interesting, they do interesting things. They have strayed from the straight-and-narrow and have developed their own code of conduct. They do what they want. They go where they want. They answer to no one. They are, in other words, fascinating. Tow the line, do as you are told and inevitably you will be become dull. Mavericks are interesting, straight guys are not.

Bad guys are confident and self assured. They know what they’re about and don’t really care what others think. They are their own men and don’t need others to prop them up. Bad guys don’t have to be in shape, just look at James Galdofini from The Sopranos, who is immensely attractive despite his rotund appearance. Some can become almost caricaturesof themselves, but that doesn’t make them any less attractive.

Plus bad guys are a challenge. We all love a challenge, and women may love a challenge even more than the boys. If something is a challenge, the end results must surely be worthwhile, right? The girls who go after bad guys want to find the pot of gold at the end of crazy rainbow. They will go to great lengths to solve their mysteries. And once they have them, once they’ve conquered the challenge, they don’t want to let go. Plus it makes for an exciting rollercoaster ride because the bad guy could walk away at any moment. The greater the danger of loosing a bad guy, the greater the effort they’ll put forth to keep them. And there may be a lesson there.

What do we have if we combine these facets? Power, strength of character, confidence, a maverick nature and an immensely interesting personality equals sexiness. That is exactly what the bad boy is, so it’s no surprise that this type of guy often get the gal. It doesn’t mean to say that we like them, and it doesn’t mean it is fair or even a good thing, but raw attraction can be nature’s way.

I am not in any way suggesting that we should all be Mr. Bad Guy. Not at all. What I am saying is that there are lessons to be learned here. What is attractive can be modified and added to our arsenal of dating weaponry. How you perceive yourself that matters the most. If you can increase your confidence levels, get your career on the right tracks, excel in what you do and be your own man within the confines of your working life, then you’ll get that bad boy confidence. And that attitude will boost your attractiveness. You don’t need to go around being bad, but you can be a bit more deliberate in your actions, a little less available and a little more enigmatic. This will boost your interest factor and again help in your attractiveness.

The modern dating game is highly complex and courting rituals can be a minefield. Go back to basics, analyze what is it that you think potential partners would like and think about how can you match of yourself to those qualities. Changing just a few small things could make the world of difference.

Fuck Saint: Kimberly Kane

Another Saint whose candle is lit at in alter of the Swellco & Swellco members of the board is Kimberly Kane. Kane is a porn performer, director and protege of indy alt porn mastermind Jack the Zipper. Her work is gritty, grainy, dark and filthy with an intense masterful sexuality that is both creative and artistic. At Swellco and Swellco, we make no distinctions between art and sex. Neither does Kimberly Kane.

Visit Kimberly’s site

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BDSM Events This Week: 1 in Real Time and 1 in Virtual Space

I wanted to bring to your attention two events that I recommend and will actually be attending. The first event is the BZ Conference in cyberspace. My girl has mentioned these before, but with what is coming up on Thursday, I thought I would mention it again. Master Black Zeus has been running these conferences for years now. He has won the BlackBEAT community award for providing these services to the community. (As a note, while Master Black Zeus was away attending the Masters and slaves conference in DC, he asked me to fill in for them for him. Had a blast doing it for the last 3 weeks).

I think that this experience is a great way for novices to get some experiences with some people who have a lot of real time knowledge. It is pretty good for more experienced players too. And tomorrow (Thursday the 24th, for those of you coming here later), Catherine Gross is being interviewed. I have spoken of her stuff before, and those of you unfamiliar with her should check out the links. If you want to attend, the password is “gifts” (without the quotes). It should be fascinating, and I hope to see some new faces there. Bring a mic so you can really participate (the software supports both a camera and a mic, but you can type if you are feeling shy or don’t have the equipment). Both myself and my girl (unless things change) will be there!

The other event, the Charlotte Fetish Fair Flea Market, will be in town this weekend. I am planning to attend this weekend, so if you want to catch me in person Saturday is the date to do so. In case you haven’t heard, the Fetish Fair Flea Market is:

What is a Fetish Fair Fleamarket(tm)? The Fetish Fair Fleamarket brings
togther top national vendors with local crafters and businesses to
create a showcase of fetish, leather, latex, and BDSM shopping that is
unmatched. The exhibits are accompanied by a full program of classes,
demonstrations, and meet-ups, gala nighttime events, and other fun.

Here is the class schedule for this weekend. It looks interesting. There is even a FetLife meet up (and LifeJournal? People still use that? lol). Hope to see you there. Look for the big bald guy in the leather vest… er yeah that might not be a good description for a leather event. LOL. Well try to find me and say “hi” anyway.

I hope to hear from you guys in the comments.

MV

Giving the people what they want: Inaugural edition feat. boob-gropin' Megan Mullally

There has been nary even ONE SINGLE search for “Maggie Gyllenhaal” and “bdsm” on this blog (which I expected to see and find the lack frankly disappointing), but “boobs” and “Megan Mullally” tip the scales dramatically, even coming in ahead of “Asia Argento,” “gay batman,” and “Drew Barrymore.” So, heck, here you go, awesome internet party people: a little bit o’ Miss Megan Mullally lezzin’ out with Debra Messing a couple years back at an awards show:

And a quickie of just some topless Megs, cause she’s my fave from the sitcom Will and Grace, which I pretty much never watched so I guess it is pointless to say I have a favorite, but I will say whatever she did on that television thing, she is onstage a damned fine singer to boot.

Enjoy! Eskimo kisses to you all!

The View From The Bottom

Kneeling                                                  

Radiance above

My being so true

I feel at home

At peace

Belonging

Accepting

This is who I am

Submit

I came again. Dammit! That means another weight on my balls. Mistress said I’d get a weight added every time I came. Damn things hurt so bad. Sucks being a masochist.

I submit because I need to. I’ve heard all the philosophizing and discussion. I’m not really interested in the deep dark secrets about why. I just know I need to. Powerful women make my dick hard. Case closed. End of discussion.

Dating Rules for Women

The Do’s and Dont’s of dating for the modern female

Guys: If you don’t like this, look away now.

In another dating article on this site, you will find a general set of rules than men should follow when dating. In the same way, women have some general rules that they should contend with when entering the dating jungle. Now I know everyone is different, so don’t take things too seriously here. There has been some controversy over some literature published in the USA that lays out in detail the rules a woman should follow to get her guy (or gal). Ellen Fein and Sherrie Schneider’s 1995 bestseller “The Rules,” explains how women should play hard if they want to get their guy. I can understand why some groups would be hostile about this, but the fact is that when we grow up, there are a predefined set of dating rules. What happens is that we forget most of them after the age of 21, and then realize we need to relearn them.

I wish there weren’t any general rules, but courtship is a ritual. There are things that we make happen that excite, stimulate, create interest and confound. Dating is a long test of compatibility. Are we perfectly matched? If we just threw ourselves together, then the chances of long term happiness might be compromised. And yet previous generations managed to succeed on a far less complex courtship criteria list. Many arranged marriages work all too interestingly.

In every society there are a predefined set of social rules we follow, from the way and timing of eating to the way we behave in public. The issue here is that when women date, there are some things that can help them be more successful. If we accept that dating is a game, then there are rules to that game. There are winners and losers. If you know the rules in advance, it gives you a head start. If men know the rules by which you are playing, you may change the rules to suit the situation to keep the man guessing. Men love a challenge, so feel free to adapt rules and add them as you feel inclined.

You can separate rules out into two parts, dating and online dating. Both areas have distinct rules that a woman should follow for dating success.

General Dating Rules

• Always look great, whatever your income. Gorgeous hair and some lipstick with rags will still turn his head. You have the advantage. You are the woman. Look your best as you could meet a potential Mr. Right anywhere at any time.
• Never reveal information you don’t have to. An enigmatic woman drives men wild.
• Keep dates brief, but your men interested. Less is always more.
• Try and stay in shape and involve some fitness regime at a gym. However much you hate it, your Mr. Right loves your body as much as your mind.
• Let your man pay. If he is interested, he is interested enough to ensure you eat well and get home safely in a cab.
• Ensure you receive flowers. If he doesn’t know what a florist is, dump him.
• Never ever sleep with a guy until he has fallen for you. Sex early in your dating game plan will ruin everything.
• Always keep a guy waiting and never turn up early. It is a lady’s perogative.
• Never be available when he wants you to be. Never be at the end of a phone when he calls and always let him leave a message or two first before replying.
• If he is available Tuesday, you are available Thursday.
• Weekend shopping trips with girlfriends are sacred and not available for dates.
• Keep your man standing on quicksand by shifting landmarks and goalposts constantly.
• Ensure you are a good kisser. Men will walk away if you cannot kiss. Practice on a mirror if you have to.
• Never ever talk about previous boyfriends, particularly their prowess in the bedroom. Your ex-boyfriends are your business only.
• Never assume anything about your date until you choose to know him better. You cannot always tell by looking.
• If any man shows the slightest signs of possessiveness or insecurity, run like the wind. Life is too short for boys.
• If his shoes or hygiene are a disgrace, dump him.
• Never talk too much about your father and how your date measures up in comparison.
• Never ever come across as too available or too desperate. He will run a mile. He is the one doing the chasing.
• If the guy in the corner is gorgeous, go get him and create the need in him for you. Never wait for men to come to you because you may watch him leave with someone else.
• You may well have all the bodily functions of a man, just try not to demonstrate them early on.
• If you want a child, don’t mention it on the first few dates.
• Never ever criticize his mother unless you want to remain single.

Online Dating Rules

• Always let them come to you, don’t chase them via email.
• Block anyone who annoys you instantly.
• Post the best and most vampish photo you can find.
• Don’t reply to instant messages with clever opening lines.
• Remain aloof and let yourself be chased.
• Always reply to emails at least 3 days after receipt.
• Never provide your real email or phone details.
• Always date safely and protect yourself at every turn.
• Make sure your login name is stunning and sexy, as well as enigmatic.
• Do not login for hours on end. Short, rapid visits are best.
• Do not assume the person you are talking to is destitute or sad.
• Never ever reply to emails on weekends. Wait until a weekday.
• Never state how good your sexual performance is in your profile.
• If you don’t want to date married men, spell it out in your profile.
• A man who doesn’t reply to your email within 3 days should be ignored.
• Make sure your humor levels come across in text.
• Do not chat to hundreds of men at once. The delay in replying is a dead giveaway and your Mr. Right will be off.
• Don’t even think about misrepresenting your size or description. They will find out.
• Come across as cool and sophisticated for best results

Ladies, always remember that you are a sexy, desirable woman and the world is your oyster. Always let men do the chasing and always allow yourself to be the chooser. Always stay safe and never risk yourself for the sake of attending a date. Always use a safe dating Website.

KinkLab Leather Leash

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Pony express

La mia borsa è sempre pronta, di fianco al telefono. Perchè quando mi chiami io possa venire di corsa, prima che posso. Resta ferma lì, con la zip chiusa come se trattenesse il respiro, in attesa di essere afferrata da un momento all’altro.

Dalla prima volta che mi hai detto “piegati”. Dalla prima volta che ti ho detto “sì”.

Da quel giorno, nella mia borsa ci sono: il portafogli, le chiavi di casa, della biancheria pulita che non si sa mai, uno spazzolino da denti, due salvaslip, delle salviette umide, 4 preservativi, fazzoletti, un plug con vero crine di cavallo, del lubrificante e un morso da pony in gomma. Me li hai regalati tu, perchè fossi sempre pronta, ogni volta che vuoi, dove vuoi, ogni volta che chiami.

E adesso ho così voglia di te e di essere tua che aspetto per ore di fianco al telefono, immobile, finchè la polvere non disegna la sagoma del mio braccio sul tavolino di legno. Aspetto solo di sentire la tua voce che mi dice: “vieni”. E io arrivo, mi metto giusto la giacca se tira un po’ d’aria. Mi metto giusto un paio di mutandine fresche di bucato, solo per il gusto di toglierle bagnate.

Detto, fatto. E mi trasformo nel destriero da educare a suon di strigliate, frustino e ricompense in zollette di sperma.

Da quel giorno, mi basta sentire quello squillo, acuto e tintinnante come uno scroscio di pioggia, e mi eccito così tanto che il lubrificante diventa superfluo. A dire la verità lo uso solo per prepararmi ancora più in fretta.

Detto, fatto.

Da quel giorno, una volta alla settimana mi trasformo in un quadrupede con il pelo tirato a nudo. Vuoi che vada al trotto? Detto, fatto. Vuoi che vada al passo per farti guardare meglio come i miei capezzoli puntino al terreno e oscillino lentamente come piccoli pendoli di Foucault? Detto, fatto. Vuoi domarmi stringendo il morso e imbrigliarmi nel piacere? Detto, fatto.

Sono tutto quello che vuoi. Tranne quando inizio a scalpitare cercando di ribellarmi ai tuoi ordini, perchè vorrei arrivare subito al punto dove tu mi stai conducendo con gli sguardi e la voce, con lo schiocco di quel frustino che mi marchia il cuore e mi vibra dentro: essere scopata alla cavallina, come una bestia da soma e da sodomia. Perchè sono un animale e non desidero altro. Perchè siamo animali e il pensiero è l’ostacolo che dobbiamo saltare. Perchè siamo animali e ci amiamo solo d’istinto.

L’altro giorno mi hai presa e mi hai detto di farti vedere cosa avevo imparato e che se avessi superato la prova avrei avuto qualcosa di speciale in premio. Ero eccitata, e avevo un po’ paura del tuo giudizio, ma mi piace sentirmi dire che sono brava. Che sono la tua puledra puttana preferita, quella che sproni con più violenza solo perchè sono quella che ami di più. Non si può sottomettere qualcosa che non vuoi avere Tuo.

Ho accettato con un cenno del capo, e ho lasciato che fossi tu a prepararmi. Hai iniziato a spogliarmi, accarezzandomi lentamente, con le tue mani così grandi. “Mettiti a quattro zampe”. Detto, fatto e io ho chiuso gli occhi, sentendo tutti e quattro gli scatti metallici delle manette attaccate alle sbarre che usi per farmi mantenere la posizione. “Stai dritta”. Detto, fatto: braccia e gambe larghe, testa alta, schiena dritta. Sguardo fiero. Hai iniziato a premere con le tue carezze lungo tutta la mia schiena, partendo dalla testa e arrivando oltre il culo, per bagnarti le dita nella mia fica smaniosa e lubrificarlo risalendo in contropelo. Poi hai preso il plug e hai bagnato anche quello nello stesso modo. A quel punto, il lubrificante è stato solo lo zuccherino che aspettavo per sentire la mia coda che si ricongiungeva con il resto del mio corpo. Hai allacciato con calma accurata tutte le mie bardature, il morso e i paraocchi che nascondevano i miei occhi neri di fame. Allora, quando sono stata pronta, mi hai dato un unico bacio, prima di iniziare.

Il primo schiocco mi ha fatto male. E’ arrivato freddo e secco come un foglio di ghiaccio. Sentivo il sangue che accorreva svelto al dolore, arrossando la pelle. Ma gli altri sono arrivati come una benedizione di fuoco bagnato, che mi si scioglieva tra le gambe sentendo che ogni colpo che ricevevo mi rendeva più vicina al mio traguardo, a te. Ma l’attesa sembrava non finire mai. Ti sei allontanato, ma io ho continuato ad andare avanti, con le ginocchia segnate dai fili d’erba del tuo giardino, con i muscoli impazienti e contratti ad aspettare il tuo ritorno.

Quando sei tornato ho sentito il tuo sguardo sulla mia coda, che oscillava ad ogni passo. Sul mio culo strigliato, sulla mia fica nuda e sempre più lucida, sulle mie cosce che si sfregano, ad ogni passo. Mi hai detto “fermati” e mi sono fermata. Ho sentito le fibbie degli stivali che tintinnavano mentre ti avvicinavi e lo strisciare ruvido di un accendino quando ti sei fermato, vicino a me. Hai iniziato ad accarezzarmi la schiena e ti sei abbassato per infilarmi un sussurro nell’orecchio, dicendo che avevi visto quanto mi ero impegnata, dicendomi che brava ero stata, infilandomi una mano tra le gambe, infilandomi la tua mano nella mia bocca. E io sento il mio sapore sulla lingua, il tuo amore nella disciplina di ogni gesto, il mio amore in ogni desiderio assecondato, ubbidito, donato.

Perchè ogni cosa che faccio è un dono per te. Anche soffocare un lamento quando la cenere ardente della tua sigaretta tocca la mia schiena. Una, due, dieci volte. Poi schiacci il mozzicone a terra, vicino alla mia mano, sleghi il morso e inizi a esaminare la bocca: la morbidezza carnosa delle labbra, la reattività della mia lingua, la profondità della mia gola. E io posso finalmente baciare il tuo cazzo, finalmente posso avere il mio zuccherino da succhiare, da far sciogliere di piacere sulla lingua. Mi scopi la bocca lentamente, permettendomi ad essere io a torturanti con i colpi morbidi della mia lingua, obbligandomi a tenerla bene aperta, domandomi con le carezze e con le parole. Mi dici “Brava”. Mi dici “Sei la mia preferita”. Mi dici “ti amo”.

E io sento una lacrima che tu non puoi vedere affiorare con la felicità incredula di un’eletta reginetta.

E io sento ancora una volta che ti allontani da me e per qualche secondo non ti vedo più, prima di capire che sei solo dietro di me. Mi esamini ancora. Tocchi il mio culo a mani larghe per saggiarne consistenza e calore, lo allarghi per guardare ancora una volta la mia pelle chiara, mi rigiri il plug per farmi godere. Mi lasci aspettare ancora, mentre ti sdrai sotto di me, tra le mie gambe a osservare la mia eccitazione, a constatare il risultato del tuo lavoro, mentre accumulo frammenti di orgasmo sottopelle.

Quando mi tocchi per la prima volta sobbalzo e sento le mie gambe, le mie braccia e i miei nervi che iniziano a tremare mentre sfiori con la punta delle dita la spaccatura della mia fica nuda, mentre sento il tuo respiro che le sbatte addosso, poi l’aria fredda della tua distanza quando la apri come un piccolo libro di carni sopra i tuoi occhi, la tua mano che la stringe e il tuo dito che entra. E esce. Lentamente. Bagnato. Lucido. Appena nato.

Appena sento le tue tre dita dentro di me inizio a non trattenere più i gemiti e inizio a muovermi, ad assecondare e a cercare disperatamente tutto il piacere che posso avere, tutta la libertà che posso urlare mentre rubi i miei segreti. E quando sento che sei proprio dietro di me e la tua punta carnosa vicino al mio vuoto, quando sento che si precipita dentro di me, cado anch’io in una vertigine che mi fa girare la testa, formicolare le gambe, annebbiare il pensiero. Sento il plug che mi riempie il culo e tu che mi riempi la vita, sento le tue mani che mi afferrano i fianchi e il tuo cazzo che esplode, sento il mio urlo e la mia carne che gode.

Respiriamo. Sento la tua testa oscillare, appoggiata sulla mia schiena. Sento le nostre vite umide che scorrono lente e soddisfatte lungo una gamba.

La mia borsa è sempre lì, pronta di fianco la telefono.

Sento uno squillo, afferro la borsa e sono già fuori. Sto già venendo.

Atlanta Police Raids Atlanta Eagle

Last Thursday, the Atlanta Police Department decided to stage a raid on the Atlanta Eagle. For those not in the know, the Eagle is a leather bar in Atlanta. While I haven’t been to it, Eagles are usually nice places (all independently owned) for those interested in Leather Men or the like to hang out. I was disturbed to read that the Eagle was raided on Thursday. A great writeup by the Atlanta Progressive News was written by someone who was there.

The present writer for Atlanta Progressive News–who had come to the bar to dance–witnessed as several bar staff and male dancers were arrested between approximately 12:30am and 1am and taken away in paddy wagons, but it is not immediately clear why. One source stated he believed it was because the bar did not have a license for the dancers. (CORRECTION: A previous version of this article stated patrons had been arrested; no patrons were arrested).

About ten police cars and about 15 cops raided the bar, allegedly looking for drugs.

However, the police were said to have ordered all patrons to get on the ground–including patrons who were just dancing or standing at the bar–and numerous patrons said people were handcuffed indiscriminately.

Bar patrons were furious at the aggressive and indiscriminate treatment and called the incident “harassment.”

(There are a lot of details in the article that I would recommend that you read.) Politicians running for mayor have criticized the raid. And the NCSF has condemned the raid.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE National Coalition for Sexual Freedom

NCSF Condemns the Atlanta Police Department’s Raid on the Eagle

September 15, 2009 – On September 10th, the Atlanta Eagle was raided by local police who used excessive force and voiced anti-gay slurs while handcuffing 62 patrons and 8 employees, forcing them to lie face- down on the floor for over an hour. The strong use of force included the presence of the “Red Dog unit” which typically deals with crimes such as gang violence.

Atlanta Police Chief Richard Pennington held a press conference yesterday afternoon stating that the gay leather bar was raided because of anonymous complaints that came through the mayor’s office. One undercover officer stated in a September 11th report following the raid that it was the “conclusion of a several week investigation involving indecency and the club was providing adult entertainment without the proper permits to do so.”

“It’s a clear violation of the civil rights of those who were detained without cause,” says Susan Wright, NCSF Spokesperson. “Instead of making an arrest at the time of the alleged offense, the Atlanta vice squad spent many hundreds of thousands of dollars in taxpayer’s money to raid the gay leather bar and persecute Atlanta citizens.”

NCSF demands a full probe into the alleged misconduct and the allocation of resources by the Atlanta police department. NCSF also joins state and local representatives in urging anyone present the night of the arrests to step forward and file a formal complaint. Please contact NCSF for additional assistance to ensure that this matter is investigated in an open process.

A rally on Sunday at the Eagle drew a large presence in support of the victims by the LGBT community. Another rally is tentatively scheduled for Saturday, September 19, 2009.

National Coalition for Sexual Freedom (NCSF)

The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom is committed to creating a political, legal, and social environment in the United States that advances the equal rights of consenting adults who practice forms of alternative sexual and relationship expression. NCSF advances the rights and advocates for consenting adults in the SM-Leather-Fetish, swing, and polyamory communities. We pursue our vision through direct services, education, advocacy, and outreach in conjunction with our partner organizations to directly benefit these communities.

National Coalition for Sexual Freedom (917) 848-6544 media@ncsfreedom.org www.ncsfreedom.org www.twitter.com/ncsf http://ncsf.wordpress.com

Personally, I am horrified that this kind of thing goes on. If you actually live in Atlanta, I would suggest that you contact your city government and let them know how you feel.

There was a protest in Atlanta this past Sunday, I wish I lived close enough so that attending the protest would have practical for me. Hundreds showed up. That is a good start. The inquiry is expected to last until at least December or January. I only hope that this doesn’t get brushed under the rug in the mean time.

Let me know what you think, in the comments.

MV

Facing the Day(s)

I fear that I’m disappointing Master and Mistress by not posting, but I have been having a lot of trouble concentrating lately.  I try to be a good object, to wait patiently on the shelf until He calls for me again but the fact is, I’m a person…more than that I’m an addict.  I’ve never done any hard drugs, but I imagine I know exactly how a heroin addict feels.  The need inside me is excruciating.  There is nothing I wouldn’t do just to hear Him murmur, “good girl.”  Just to feel the ropes on my skin and the sting of the pain that pleases Him so well.

I know he needs me to be a good girl and wait.  I wish I could be a good girl and wait patiently, thinking only of His needs.  I believe I will come to that some day.  But the sensations are still so new, the strong desires so long unfulfilled that now they are being unleashed and I have little control over them.  Part of the joy of being a sub is to allow myself to be out of control.  But I fight, trying so hard to function in the vanilla world with this empty hole inside of me that can only be filled by His desire for me.

Master, if it pleases you please send me another assignment so that I may please you even when we cannot meet.

Gaffadronning hører In Your Face

Jeg har oppdaget et multimedia pin-up performance band, og jeg er imponert over mer enn bare betegnelsen. De er The Hungry Hearts, og de har laget en potensiell landeplage som jeg både hater og elsker. Den heter In Your Face, og du finner den om et par avsnitt.

Jeg er imponert over at gruppen har klart å lage en sang som spiller på hjerte-smerte samtidig som den er eksplisitt om seksuelt savn – ikke som en motsetning, men som den naturlige helheten det er. Jeg kjenner den helheten godt, det er en sterk følelse, og likevel virker det nesten latterlig å synge om. Kanskje formen bidrar til det, den er flere hakk for fengende, dansbar og irriterende.

For det er en forferdelig sang. Den har en dans. Jeg gjentar, den har en dans. Og jeg er ødelagt av for lang tid bak den ironiske distansen, for samtidig som de parodierer en stil opplever jeg at de beærer den og gjør den bedre.

Jeg setter stor pris på postironien. Jeg liker å gå i meg selv og finne ut hvorfor jeg virkelig liker de tingene jeg ikke liker å like – noen ganger har jeg til og med en postironisk tilnærming til BDSM. Men jeg savner lag på lag med ironi når jeg både liker og misliker noe på samme tid. Hva skal jeg gjemme meg bak nå?

Nei, her finnes ingen gjemmesteder, her det bare en ting å gjøre: Lære bevegelsene og danse med.

Bi-sexual

I watched Sex: how to do everything last night and it was very interesting. There were a couple on it (man and woman) who used to also be with a woman. Thus making them a threesome. I found this very interesting. Apparently they all used to share the same bed and just carry on like ‘normal’ couples. The woman was more than happy to have another woman live with her and her man. She said she is bi-sexual. They are also in BDSM and swinging, orgies etc. I thought they were a great couple very open minded and the woman obviously getting the bext of both worlds. Apparently the couple fell in love with the other woman but she is now their ex.

I so wish my boyfriend was more experimental but the furthest we have gone so far is anal. He says he would like me with another woman. However, after a few questions from me all was not as it seemed. What my fella really wanted/wants is me and another woman with him. I play a bit with the girl as she does me and then he gets to bang the other girl. That is actually what he wants not just me with another girl. I asked him if he would let me sleep with another man. He said no. Thus I told him it would be very unlikely I would let him do another girl in front of me. I would go with another girl in front of him, if I really liked her and thought her beautiful (which for me is the apperance and the soul), but as I said to him she would have to be ’special.’

I place a high value on sex and you may be surprised to know I have had very few lovers. This is because:

1) I am fussy

2) I can be shy

3) I used to spend too much time at work

4) I do not cheat on the men I give myself to

5) To me sex is important and wonderful and I wouldn’t just do any fella that comes along.

6) I have to really trust the man

This may all sound a bit precious and over-the-top and stupid but that is the way I am.  When it comes to food I will pretty much eat most things but I won’t eat many men. LOL!

Speaking of food I am doing some filming for a lovely chappie and I am soooo on a diet now. I look like a bloody hippo. I chatted to my fella and he said yes I had put weight on since I had been with him. I asked him why he didn’t tell me. He just shrugged. I suppose you can’t really say much to apease a raging rhino can you!

what's more degrading?

What’s more degrading: engaging in a sex act that some people think is gross, or being told that regardless of how you feel about it, someone else is qualified to tell you what that sex act means?

(Warning: if you’re not comfortable reading about some of the things I do in bed, stop here. I’m not worried about you garden-variety perverts; I put this disclaimer in because I do have family members who read this blog.)

Not too long ago, a friend of mine pointed me to a blog post at pandagon.net, entitled “If it’s so great we can be honest about it,” on the topic of semen facials. No, not the latest fancy beauty treatment – I’m talking about the standard porn-flick shot of a woman getting a shot of jizz in the face (generally at the conclusion of a blow job). The short version is, the writer, Amanda, objects to people (starting with another blogger, specifically) who feel that semen facials can be anything other than degrading to the person on the receiving end of the jizz. She argues that enjoying degradation is fine and dandy if you’re honest about it, but when you pretend something’s not degrading when in fact it is, you’re being intellectually dishonest and that pisses her off.

Needless to say, I find this pretty problematic. It’s a model that assigns exactly two options to the act: degradation and honesty, or degradation and dishonesty. No room for a variety of meanings to the act itself.

I personally don’t have any strong feelings about facials, and my experience in the realm has been minimal and, if memory serves, accidental, so hardly a strong basis from which to argue on any personal level about the relative degradation of such an act. Plus, I don’t much like the taste or feel of jizz (produced by people of any sex/gender) on its own merits, and I’m not personally into being degraded. So I really have no personal investment in this one as far as the act itself. But I do take issue with the general idea that anyone can decide what the universal meaning of a sexual act might be.

It’s been interesting to read the comments thread in which a number of very articulate people challenge Amanda on exactly this point—the idea that she, as a feminist, can dictate or judge the emotional qualities of people’s experiences within a given sexual act, and that if anyone disagrees with her classification system of what’s degrading and what’s not, that person is necessarily being dishonest with themselves (and by extension with the world at large) about what’s really going on.

One of the comments, in that vein, reads, “… it’s not that the association is wrong, it’s that it’s not necessarily universal, or even close to that.” In comments 37 and 38, Amanda reacts to that as follows:

“I’m skeptical of that, sorry. It’s not universal, because admitting that it is brings up a lot of uncomfortable questions that might involve men getting to do it less and think about it more. We don’t disagree that peeing in someone’s face has a very specific meaning, but mostly because women can do it to men, and so avoiding the issue isn’t an option. (Comment #37)

Which, by the way, I think peeing on someone is a fine way to spend your time. If it gets you off, go for it! But it’s interesting that people can be honest about the psychosexual issues being brought out by watersports. The honesty of it makes it a lot better all around, because you can say no with a clear conscience if being degraded isn’t your thing, and if someone asks for it, you’re allowed to acknowledge where they’re coming from.” (Comment #38)

Of course, this makes the whole thing even worse. Now, rather than just focusing on facials as unquestionably degrading, she’s adding piss play to the mix. I’m willing to believe that she’s got some first-hand experience of the facial, or has at least seen some porn that upset her, but as soon as she starts to wade into the murky waters of BDSM play, by her own implication—as in, I assume she isn’t a BDSM player or piss enthusiast herself or she’d have been (intellectually) honest and said so—she’s out of familiar territory and by all evidence she’s out of her depth.

For starters, her statement (in comment 37) assumes that we don’t disagree—when in fact “we,” by and large, do disagree on the meanings of peeing in someone’s face.

She seems to think there’s a universal view of what watersports are about, even just among enthused practitioners. I’m not sure where that idea comes from, but as a longtime BDSM player and as someone who enjoys watersports, I gotta say, the narratives through which players understand their play in this realm are incredibly diverse. For some, piss is degrading and that’s why they like it, with all the “intellectual honesty” Amanda praises them for—and, for the record, I am one such person. But for others (including me at certain times), that’s just not what’s going on, and I simply can’t buy that this makes them, or me, intellectually dishonest. Here are a few of the narratives I’ve heard:

For some, piss is a rich and flavourful bodily fluid and a person can feel intimately connected to their partner when they smell it, drink it or feel it on their bodies—like feeling the cooling of wet saliva on the skin, like tasting someone’s come or even menstrual blood, like smelling the sweat in someone’s armpit—as in, for some people it’s an intimate treat that signifies closeness. (People even play with the types of food and drink they ingest before piss play to make the taste sweeter and more enjoyable for their play partner. Pineapple good, asparagus bad.)

For some, it’s about age play, returning to an emotional state that’s reminiscent of childhood or infancy and peeing in their diapers—and this is often psychological play that’s not sexual, but rather, about playing with trust and care and vulnerability (baby/nurse infantilism scenarios, for example).

For some, it’s a way of mutually breaking social taboo in a “public but secret” way (potentially an extension of the “intimacy” paradigm but combined with some mild exhibitionism or the thrill of getting caught), such as someone I know who took her date to a restaurant, took a wine glass into the bathroom and filled it with piss, and then brought it back to table for her lover to enjoy without anyone else nearby knowing. This would be a similar thrill to using an under-the-clothing remote-control vibrator at a board meeting.

For some, it’s a solo pursuit that’s purely a sensual pleasure: the act of enjoying the smells and textures of the fluids our own bodies produce is forbidden in polite company, but some indulge in playing with their own urine for the sheer enjoyment of the human sensuality of it, as an act that’s about natural curiosity and self-love, much like basic masturbation.

So in addition to having no concept of the array of meanings—some degrading, some not—attached to piss play, Amanda also attempts to draw a false gender comparison. Basically she seems to be saying that patriarchy has us arguing about the potential for a non-degrading facial because it’s in men’s best interests to have women believe facials are not degrading so they can spray their girlfriends’ faces with jizz and get away with enjoying it as degrading. But, by her logic, because girls can pee on guys too, that equalizes the playing field, and so there’s no patriarchal motive for stating it’s non-degrading, and so we all agree it’s degrading. I’ve already argued this one. But this further element of the piss comparison fails to hold water (hah!) in that this implies that while men can ejaculate on women’s faces, women can’t ejaculate on men’s faces—which just isn’t true. The amount of ejaculate a woman can produce is staggering, and female ejaculation happens sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. I’ve certainly had the experience of accidentally shooting a half-cup of fluid straight up some poor cunnlinguist’s nose, not with any degradation in mind, but just because that’s what my body did. (I’ve also had the experience of using ejaculate to degrade, and of allowing someone to drink it as a treat—very different energies in each of those scenarios too!)

Now let’s insert all this into the larger context of BDSM play as a whole. Amanda also wrote, in the original post, “I don’t disagree that people can bracket off their sex life and otherwise be good to each other—S&M types swear they do it all the time, and I believe them. But what’s great about them is they admit that the degradation is the point.”

Again, Amanda demonstrates her lack of familiarity with the BDSM community and its mores. She once again assumes universal agreement—this time among BDSMers—about all of our acts, and that such a universal agreement is also all about degradation. And again, I beg to differ. For starters, BDSM isn’t necessarily a question of “bracketing off” a “degrading” sex life from everything else and otherwise behaving completely differently—that implies an awfully bipolar way of engaging in relationships and sexual acts, and the assumption that all BDSMers manage their lives and relationships this way simply isn’t accurate. Not to mention, every conceivable BDSM act has a vast array of meanings.

Take spanking. For some—many, in fact—it’s degrading, absolutely, and therefore hot. For others it’s the fastest way to get to a really great endorphin rush based purely on the physical sensation. For others it brings blood flow to the genitals and is a great route to sexual arousal. For others it’s only fun if the spanking is done with a specific fetish object, and in that case it’s the object, not the spanking per se, that’s really working for them. For still others, it’s a reciprocal thing—I’ll whack you, you whack me—and a form of competition. For others it’s about discipline, and isn’t hot as far as the act itself goes, but is satisfying as a consented-to form of punishment within a D/s dynamic. And so on, and so forth.

Or take toe-sucking. For some it’s degrading (and therefore hot) to be forced to take such a dirty, low-down body part into the mouth. But for others it’s a fun sensual pleasure with no big psychological explanation. For still others it’s an honour to be allowed so close to such a customarily hidden part of the body, much like they’d be honoured to be invited to go down on a gal—an intimate, private act. For some it’s something they will do as an act of service to please someone who really likes it—and pleasing is their kink, with no attachment to any inherent degradation (i.e. they might take as much pleasure in balancing her chequebook or cooking her dinner), and much like many vanilla lovers really get off on pleasing each other (whaddaya know!). For some, toe-sucking is an act of (consensual) dominance, with the dominant getting their tongue in places that make the submissive uncomfortable, whether physically or psychologically or both, and enjoying making him/her squirm—works especially well with submissives who are ticklish or hate having their feet touched.

One of the big reasons BDSMers do so much darned negotiating is precisely because our sexual and kink desires span such a vast spectrum of meanings. It’s never safe for us to assume that a given act holds the same meaning for all of us. Thus, extremely intensive communication about those acts, and the potential for extremely deep intimacy as a result. (Read clinical sex therapist Peggy Kleinplatz’s essay “Learning from Extraordinary Lovers: Lessons from the Edge” in the Powerful Pleasures anthology if you’re curious about that.)

So back to the facials. With this whole argument, it sounds to me like Amanda is really invested in a paradigm in which facials (and piss, and BDSM as a whole) mean only one thing—and you can choose to enjoy that thing if you want, but you have no option to script different meanings on it. I’d agree with many commenters in saying it’s just not that simple.

I definitely agree that porn scripts one really specific set of meanings onto the act of a facial, and that porn has far-reaching effects on everyday heterosexual sex scripts. But it’s awfully depressing to think that you believe our only options for cultural scripts come from porn—hetero porn, no less—and that if we choose to refuse that model and explore other ones it’s both intellectually dishonest and, as she argues in the original post, necessarily oppressive to the next gal that comes along as it sets up men’s expectations that all women will go for it. (You could also argue that it’s the other way around—rather than shaping people’s desires, porn shows us what people already want to see, which is why people buy it—which in this case is even more depressing.)

Either way, seems to me that way of universalizing the meanings of sex acts went out of style when mainstream feminists stopped believing that all penetration is rape à la Andrea Dworkin, or that dildos were a tool of the patriarchy and made one “male-identified” (we hear the echoes of Adrienne Rich’s 1980s lesbian separatist wisdom there).

Universalizing logic about the meanings of sex acts is dangerous. Sure, it’s easy to say that when feminists do it, it’s okay, but in truth that same logic is used by people and governments all over the place to oppress people who engage in “non-normative” acts that, by their outside logic, cannot be interpreted in any way other than “bad.” This is the same logic that has teens thrown in jail for “sexting” because obviously that’s degrading and should be punished, even when the teens do it for their own fun and not in a way that exploits anyone else at all (for all that it is pretty unwise from a privacy standpoint, in my humble opinion). It’s the same logic that has gay men sitting in jail in England, right now, for the crime of assault—in some cases against themselves—for engaging in BDSM even though they vehemently argued they fully consented (the famous Spanner case).

In this case, Amanda is saying that you think both options, good and bad, are fine as long as honestly stated, so there’s no question of punishment—but that’s about the only difference here. There’s still a false binary being created, and the narrow and value-laden judgement of one option in that binary still remains.

Finding my Inner subbie - Part III (Receiving His First Collar)

i walked through airport security looking around nervously. Despite my best efforts to control it, my hands were trembling. “i must be crazy,” i thought to myself as i slipped off my shoes and placed them onto the conveyor belt. Thoughts were flying through my head so fast that i didn’t have time to process them, let alone dwell on them.

It was 4:36 a.m. according to my cell phone. i had almost an hour and a half before my flight took off. Breakfast was definitely an order.

As i sat there, eating my bacon and egg sandwich, i wondered what they were like in person. i had chatted with Him every night lately, and i had spoken to them both on the phone on an almost daily basis now. She seemed sweet, with a soft voice that matched the milky skin in her pictures perfectly. His voice was unusual, deep and firm but with a tone to it that sucked me in. There was something so intriguing about Him, something so magnetic. From our first conversation He had been in complete control, without my full permission. i couldn’t figure out why. That was why i was flying there, over 600 miles away, to find out why. Why did a man, whom i had never met, have such an incredible power over me? i wanted to please Him, to do exactly what He said, to the letter, and make Him proud of me. i wanted to hear Him tell me that i was a good girl, and i hated upsetting Him. The night before, when i had to phone Him to tell Him that i missed my flight, my hands had been shaking uncontrollably as i dialed. i knew He would be disappointed in me and it devastated me. i dreaded hearing the unhappiness in His voice, and i absolutely feared His reaction to my plight. But He was gentle, concerned, and helpful. He was definitely disappointed, but He believed me, which was all that really mattered to me. i did not want them to think i was lying, that i was just another girl who made empty promises and let them down. i wanted to be there, i had spent weeks mentally preparing and 2 days physically preparing. i was ready. But unfortunately, i had to delay my trip by 7 hours.

But here i was, finally, throwing away the styrofoam remnants of my breakfast and getting ready to board a plane to Denver. On the other end of that plane ride was an entirely new world waiting for me. A world that consisted of a lifestyle that i had yet to explore. He was her Master, and she was His slave. And they wanted me to be a part of their lives. Permanently.

An index finger lightly jabbed at my shoulder. “We’re here,” the stranger next to me said. i rubbed my eyes and looked around. i was on a plane. i was on the ground. i was in Denver.

i immediately grabbed my cell phone from my messenger bag and turned on the power. i scrolled down to His name and opted to text. i did not want to call. i was too nervous.

“i just landed,” i sent.

Within seconds He replied, “You are early.”

“Yes, 10 minutes,” i sent back.

By now the plane had parked and everyone was gathering their belongings. i stood up and glanced around, smoothing out my brown cotton dress in the process. If these people only knew, i thought to myself. If they only knew why i was here, the real reason that i was here, they would recoil in horror. Even the pretty long, brown cotton dress i was wearing had a naughty purpose. He had specifically requested that i wear a skirt and bring a vibrator in my bag for the car ride home. “Yes Sir,” was always my answer. It never even occurred to me to say no.

i smiled to myself as i stood there staring down at my freshly painted toes. i gave myself a little wiggle with them and inwardly chuckled. i was nervous. i was giddy. i had butterflies. It was euphoric.

We filed out of the plane and headed like cattle towards the tram. i popped into the first bathroom that i passed. After using the restroom, i stood in front of the full length mirror mounted to the tile wall and stared at my reflection. i was a mere shadow of the glorious vision i had been the night before. my hair was no longer sleek and smooth but unkempt from sleeping on it. The large brown flower in my hair was cock-eyed. my eyes were red and puffy and my dress was wrinkled. i shook my head at my disheveled reflection but shrugged to myself. There was nothing i could do about it now. i took out my flower, shook my hair upside down, re-attached the flower and again smoothed my dress. It wasn’t much better, but the effort made me feel like i had tried.

On the tram, i bypassed the steel poles that were there to hold onto and i opted to sit in the handicapped spot. The lack of sleep from the night before was taking its toll on me. i needed sleep, more sleep, but my blood was pumping hard and fast and my brain was shooting in a thousand directions. What if i displeased Him? What if she was threatened by me? What if i wasn’t what they expected? What if they loved me, but i did not love them back? What if everything was perfect for all 3 of us, and i had to come back to Las Vegas alone, leaving all 3 of us feeling lonely and incomplete?

i made my way to baggage claim and saw my bag. my phone rang. It was Him. my heart jumped up into my throat as i watched His name flash across the screen. i paused before answering it, trying to give myself a split second to gather my senses. i answered the phone and while we went over the necessary information about where to go and wait for Him, i struggled with my broken bag. We laughed about the fact that i had finally made it despite the previous night’s fiasco, and as i exited the airport and made my way to the first empty bench along the curb, i began to calm a little bit. i was here. He was pulling up any minute. There was no turning back. The weekend was officially in motion.

He stated that He was pulling in and i told Him that i had a flower in my hair. He saw me and pulled up to the curb. i struggled with my broken bag and met Him at the trunk of the car. He was smiling, a big excited smile. It put me at ease. As He reached down for my bag He kissed me a couple of times on the lips. It was slightly awkward but i liked it. He immediately made me feel at home.

i sat down in the passenger’s seat of His car and He in the driver’s. He grabbed something out of the middle console. It was black and large. i looked over and He was unlocking a good-sized silver lock from a large 2-3 inch black leather collar. my heart skipped a beat. i knew that He was going to collar me at the airport. This was our agreement. i had done some research on collars and knew what it meant. i was going to be His property for the next 3 days. i was to call Him Sir and follow His instructions without hesitation or argument. It was thrilling, exciting and scary. But i had every intention of fulfilling my role to the letter. It was just something i had to do.

He opened the collar and moved it towards me and i leaned into it, turning my head so that He could see to clasp it. He re-attached the lock and flashed a huge smile. He put the car in drive and as we pulled off, i gingerly touched the large black piece of leather strapped tightly around my neck. There was a ring attached to the front of it, intended for a leash, and the silver lock on the opposite side holding it in place. There was no taking it off, although i wouldn’t have even if i could.

As we drove away from the airport i took in the scenery while we made small talk. After a few minutes He asked me if i had questions for Him. i said no, but He reminded me that i had asked Him previously about their rules. Every swinger couple has rules. He stated that they had 2 rules. Their first rule was no sex with a new person they are trying to build a relationship with alone. First time had to be together. This meant that Him and i would not be having sex until she was with us. This was helpful information for me, because it is nice to know what the expectations are. Their second rules was always using condoms. He asked me what my rules were and i stated the same condom rule and that was it. i really don’t have rules, at least not any that apply to their situation.

After a little more small talk, He said that it was time to break the ice, and asked me where my vibrator was. i stated that it was in the suitcase in the trunk, and He sighed, disappointed. “Well, that’s why we have fingers,” He stated matter of factly, and pulled up my dress.

i put my legs onto the dash and made a comment about the scenery. He made a comment about me stalling. i smiled, laid back and ran my hand along my thigh and gingerly touched myself. He rubbed my thigh which simultaneously held up my skirt and ordered me to look at Him. i did and smiled. i continued to touch myself and we talked about the landmarks we were passing. i grabbed His fingers and intertwined them with mine and slid them in between my moist pussy lips and gently moved them back and forth.

As we pulled into His driveway i sat up and let my dress fall back down. We walked into the house and He led me into the back yard. They had two beautiful dogs that ran around outside. He led me to the fence at the back of His yard and lifted me up to see the mountain. As we walked back toward the house, He gently grabbed my hand in His. my heart leapt.

Inside the house, we got a glass of water out of the kitchen and then headed to the couch. i sat down and He stood in front of me holding His hands out. i grabbed His hands and He stood me up and lifted my dress over my head and tossed it aside, exposing my completely naked body, except for His collar around my neck. my heart was pounding, but i knew that He was not going to fuck me yet, because of the rules He had stated in the car. He admired my body and turned me around to get the full view. He sighed and smiled and pulled me close to hug me tight. He grabbed my ass and we both chuckled and sank into the couch. i snuggled into His shoulder and immediately relaxed. i was tired. my breathing quickly became heavy. He recognized my exhaustion and stood again after a few minutes, holding His hands out just like before. i stood up and He led me down the hallway and informed me that they had one more rule. They never have sex with other people in their bed. He led me into their room and pulled back the covers and i laid down on the bed and He stared at me for a moment, ran His hands down my body and then grabbed the sheet and pulled it over me. i snuggled up with a full length brown velour body pillow. He pulled the comforter over the sheet on top of me and kissed me on the cheek and left the room. i could not remember the last time i felt so comfortable, content and peaceful. i was asleep in seconds.

i woke up sometime later and it took me a second to remember where i was. i smiled and rolled over and snuggled back down into my amazing nap. i gingerly fingered His collar again and wondered where He was and if she was home yet. Not hearing any noises, i closed my eyes and fell back asleep.

my eyes flew open. The covers were sliding off of me. i was naked. i was not in my bed. i rubbed my eyes and looked up. He was standing by the bed, hands held out again and i grabbed them, standing up. He pulled me in for yet another hug and kissed me. It was not awkward this time. He turned me with my back towards Him and laid down on the bed with my naked body above Him, my back still pressed against His chest. He slid His knees in between my legs and snapped them apart. my heart was racing. He grabbed my neck firmly with one hand and ran His other hand down my abdomen and over my alert pussy. As i started to writhe around and instinctively began to close my legs His grip on my neck tightened and His legs snapped mine back apart again. His fingers began rubbing my clit firmly and i began to relax and become aroused. i whimpered and moaned and squirmed underneath His firm grip. He kissed my neck and told me that He wanted me to cum. i was getting close, and felt my body start to tighten. His rubbing became faster and more aggressive and His grip around my neck became tighter. He was firmly whispering in my ear to give it to Him; over and over He said this. i felt myself stat to climax and let out a growling moan and felt my body tense completely. my orgasm started in the pit of my stomach and shot down to my pussy in one powerful, fluid sequence. i was gripping His arm with one hand, the arm that held His hand around my neck, and the bedspread with my other. i shook and moaned and my body flooded with euphoria. He asked me if that was me cumming and i whispered, “Yesss.”

Satisfied, He released me and i stood up. my knees were weak and my body was quivering. He smiled at me and asked me if i wanted a tour. i nodded and He took my hand. He showed me the closet, His bathroom, their sex toy drawer in the dresser, her bathroom, and the baby’s room. As i exited the baby’s room, He instructed me to close the door. i did, and He showed me the soon-to-be office.

He then led me downstairs and showed me the basement. He called it the playroom, it had games and a TV and a large black leather couch. He led me into the hallway and showed me her office, the storage room, then a bedroom. i stood there as He explained that this would be my room, and that this was also where the “magic” happens. i was nervous, trying to imagine what would happen to me on that bed later. All at once, He grabbed me, picked me up and threw me onto the bed. i laughed, but not for long. He slid my head off of the side of the bed, face up. He unzipped His shorts and pulled out His cock and pushed it towards my mouth. i opened my mouth and He slid it in, slowly but firmly, pushing it against the back of my throat. He moaned and thrust it into my mouth a couple of times and then pulled it out, zipping himself back up. He stepped away from the bed and i sat up and then slid off the bed. He exited the door and waited. i did as He did, closing the door behind me per His prior instruction, and He gently grabbed my hand and led me down the hallway where He opened the door to the bathroom and explained that this would be my bathroom. He closed the door behind us and suddenly grabbed both of my wrists with His hand and shoved my arms up above my head, pressing me into the wall. He pressed against me, kissing me firmly and eagerly. i could feel His hard cock pressing into my naked body. After a couple of eager kisses He released me and moaned, staring at me with a mixture of desire and satisfaction. i knew that He wanted me, and i knew that He was thrilled to have me at His house finally. i asked if i could shower and He said that i could. i was suddenly aware of His collar around my neck and touched it, asking if it could get wet. He chuckled and said that it could and He went back into the bathroom to get me a towel and a washcloth. He laid them out for me, gave me a firm kiss on the lips and instructed me not to get dressed until He told me to. He then turned and headed towards the stairs. i went into the bathroom and proceeded to shower.

As i showered i thought about how much i wanted Him, how exhilarating it was, the whole situation, and imagined what it would feel like when He entered me for the first time. i wondered what His wife would do, where she would touch me, and how rough they would be with me the first time we played. i knew that she was usually on the receiving end of their rough play, but i also knew that they were going to switch it up with me at times. It was all so new for me, and i found the entire experience and anticipation thrilling and exotic. i couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

[Via http://thecollaredblogger.wordpress.com]

Hypnose-Workshop für dominante BDSM Fans, für Dominas, Doms und Fetischsklavinnen

Hypnoseworkshop als Erweiterung der Möglichkeiten für Dominas und Doms aus der BDSM und Fetisch-Szene

Für dominante Persönlichkeiten, die auch über eine rhetorische Begabung verfügen, gibt es ein faszinierendes Instrument für die Gestaltung einer Dom-Sub Beziehung :

Aus der Gegend von Erfurt kommt die Hypnosedozentin und Femdom Lady Magic, die mit ihrer Kollegin Mistress Petra aus Stuttgart mehrmals jährlich einen Wochenend-Hypnose-Workshop anbietet, z.B. im SMotel in Forbach, einer Location die speziell für BDSM Fans eingerichtet ist. Das Thema Hypnose wird speziell für Femdoms, Dominas und Doms aus dem BDSM und Fetisch Bereich angeboten und ist Insidern seit längerem bekannt.

Anfragen über noch freie Teilnehmerplätze und Termine sind durch eine Mail-Anfrage an ladymagic@arcor.de und mistress452000@yahoo.com möglich.

[Via http://bdsmszene.wordpress.de]

Toys.

Until I find someone with whom I enter a relationship, most of this journal will deal with scenes, so I thought it appropriate to show off my toys before I begin talking about them.

First off, I have a bag full of clothespins.  Additionally, I have tied 20 of these clothespins into 4 ‘zipper’ strands – 2 strands of 4 clothespins, and 2 strands of 6.  I used the twisted-pair wires out of an ethernet cable to tie them together.

Next, I have 2 leather floggers, both made by Dragontailz. They each have 25 20″ falls. The Red/black one is made of cowhide leather, and is significantly lighter than the black flogger, which is made of an unknown leather (the clerk who helped me with my purchase on that one was significantly less knowledgeable than the first).

Next, I have a cane-like item that I refer to as a Multicane. It is made of 7 acrylic rods that are bundled together by the handle, and by 2 o-rings that can be moved on the multicane, or removed entirely, to change the way that the rods interact upon impact. Included here is a shot of the tip of the multicane.

Additionally, I have two paddles, one with 3 heart inserts cut out of it, and one that is somewhat inspired by the tawse.

Furthermore, I have 200 feet of rope that I am learning to tie, and several candles that I hope to use soon in a wax scene, as well as a pair of clover clamps.

Anyone want to try any of this out? wink

[Via http://themonkeygso.wordpress.com]

Domina <a href="http://www.bdsm-oohlala.de/Avalon-Domina-Kira-Page-Berlin/setcard.html" title="Lady Kira ist die verführerische blutjunge Femdom mit viel Erfahrung und stilvollem Lack Leder Latex Fetisch Outfit">Lady Kira</a> im Studio Avalon Berlin

Noch blutjung, aber schon eine erfahrene Femdom – das ist die verführerische Herrin Lady Kira im Domina Studio Avalon in Berlin

Lady Kira ist eine respektable Mistress mit beeindruckend mystischer Ausstrahlung und einer facettenreichen Lack Leder Latex und Fetisch-Garderobe.

Mit dieser attraktiven und jungen Femdom ist eine Session ein besonderes Erlebnis, denn mit diesem reizvollen Vamp kann der submissiv devote Fetischist und/oder Masochist mit Leib und Seele in eine Welt eintauchen, die nicht nur lustvollen Schmerz für ihn bereit hält.

Dem eingefleischten Clinicfetischisten läßt auch Kira’s Erfahrung als bizarre “Ärztin” keine Wünsche offen.

Ein stilvoller Escort Service als Begleitung auf Fetish Events oder SM-Parties rundet das Programm von Lady Kira mit einem bizarren Escortservice ab. Dass man(n) da leicht zum Wiederholungs”opfer” wird, liegt auf der Hand…

[Via http://bdsmszene.wordpress.de]

Kitten's Bonus tips regarding Sex toy reviews

• Don’t try to experiment with $250 worth of sex toys in the space of about 10 hours. Oh, yes… you will be tempted, but at some point you’ll become severely desensitized and wonder if your sex organs will ever work again. The first symptom is extreme crankiness toward the inventor of silicone. The second is a perverse paranoid suspicion that your lover may be related to the inventor of silicone. The third is a sudden craving for food that isn’t consumed from your lover’s body.

• If you don’t heed the above advice, the only cure is a deep rejuvenating sleep and several days of actively refusing to consider the sexual implications of each and every item to which you are exposed. Force yourself to quit thinking of new uses for feather dusters and shower mats! Not to mention staplers and scotch tape.

• A girl’s best friend is her dropcloth. Before you embark on your erotic adventure, dig up an old heavy quilt to drape over your expensive and easily-soiled sheets. It’s like birth control, you’ll be glad you thought of it in advance.

In closing:

The only sex worth having is sex with a really communicative, considerate, fun partner. As it turns out, I had as much fun with $0 worth of sex toys as I did with $250. That said, there’s still no one other than my Daddy Dom, that  I would rather blow a quarter of a thousand dollars with.

~Kitten

[Via http://enaexousia.wordpress.com]

First Challenge

Hello Girl On The Side readers….

How are you this evening?

I am a little nervous. I’ve received my first challenge.  It seems pretty tame on the surface but is making me fret a bit.

What is it?

The directions are to bring myself just before the point of climax, and then stop and calm down. Repeat again. And then at then on the third go, let myself go.

I am to make notes, on how I feel… and at the end what I taste like.

As you will know, if you have read any part of this blog, self-restraint is not a strong point for me.

Enough dallying though, I should get to my task, lest my task master figures this dalliance requires further punishment.

Your Girl.

Yay! figured out how to get the audio file to work!: Click Here

[Via http://yourgirlinoneyear.wordpress.com]

I am a Christian, You got a problem with that?

I am on a tear, it happens. Most of the time I try to ignore people when we disagree, especially in our little corner of the world. But every now and again, walking away just doesn’t work.

I’m not sure I am adverse to suffering fools. I seem to be open to at least entertaining them for dinner, but bullies? That is another issue entirely. Hold my peace, turn the other cheek, riiiight. I’m a city girl from the ‘Don’t start none,won’t be none’ school of thought. Now when I have turned all four cheeks, I find myself forced to provide the Lord yet another forgiveness opportunity. A blogger I read put it this way, ‘Trying God’s Patience Since 1965′ that’s me.

For some reason, the idea that one has values, morals or standards seems to set you apart in this neck of the woods and not in a good way. Every perversion under the sun is A-OK, any accommodation to moral relativism is fine but when you say you actually have a moral foundation and try to do the right thing, every criticism imaginable is leveled.

Well I know I am not alone, I know I am not out-numbered and more importantly, I know there is a woman reading this blog who needs to know she is entitled to her dignity and her self-respect within a power exchange relationship. She needs to know she is worth drawing a line in the sand.

Hear me my sister, don’t sell yourself short, you are better than that nonsense. Don’t drink the koolaid or get on the ‘everyone is doing it’ bandwagon. If they all jumped off the roof would you do that too? (sorry, flashback)

This life-style is not about victimization. It is not about pouring your brain out of your ear. You do not have to lower yourself to the standards of some deviant because he says this is how power exchange is supposed to operate. I’ve quoted dominant men extensively this week and have a few more to share later but the bottom line does come down to standards and expectations.

If you have no standard, no bottom line, no non-negotiable standard for when and where you will enter a relationship; you allow someone else to decide your bottom line. If you don’t stand for something, you will fall for anything. That includes infidelity, dishonesty or abuse disguised as training. That is what you will receive.

I do not believe in moral relativism. I believe we set goals and strive to meet them daily. If you have no goal, anything is acceptable. And as many of you know from your own relationships – moral relativism hurts like hell when decisions are made that do not take your best interest in mind and accountability is one-sided.

This post is part of a series that started with the lying thing and will go on for a few more. What has sparked this are some comments, not about DD per se, which was bad enough but about Christians in general. As a believer, I take exception to much of it, particularly in how it has been tied to the mistreatment of women. Everyone is not a believer – I get that, but it seems quite acceptable to lay every demeaning, controlling behavior at the feet of Christians or practitioners of DD. This is a lifestyle that includes scat among it’s illustrious fetish options and lying among many is apparently com se com sa. Self-deception? It’s what for breakfast. But Christianity is a problem, riiiight.

Using what I know very well, I am going to try to extrapolate basic social constructs. I like to think we have an intelligent virtual coffee clutch here, so, starting with a snapshot Christian theology, I am going to draw a line across all our fetishes and see if it doesn’t make sense. I think it will but some people will never let good sense stand in the way of agenda — here goes.

Christianity is not the only religion utilizing a patriarchal structure. Please note the following taken from Wikipedia

Complementarianism is a term used to describe a conservative theological view held by many in Christianity and other world religions that men and women have different roles and responsibilities, as manifested in marriage, religious leadership, and elsewhere.

Limitations of women’s roles on the basis of religious beliefs are not unique to conservative Christianity or Western culture.[11] For example, Arab American women of Jewish, Muslim, Christian, and other religions are socialized to be supportive of their husbands’ role in the family hierarchy. Their roles are said to “complement” the roles of men, and their status and power in a family are derived from that of males. Within Islam, “a tension exists between the egalitarian view that believers are judged on the basis of merit and the inegalitarian view that women and men should fulfill distinct, complementary roles in the family and society”

Now if you remove the religious justification from the above, it sounds a lot like what Wikipedia says of BDSM.

BDSM activities and relationships differ from conventional activities and relationships in that they are based on the concept of partners taking on deliberately unequal but complementary roles, in an eroticized – but not always sexual – context.

CLUTCH THE PEARLS!!! Unequal but complementary!

That covers DD, CDD, D/s, M/s, Pony Girls, Women As Cocktail Tables, Public Nudity, Crudity, Prudity; along with Women Who Haven’t Made a Decision This Millennium and all the rest. Unequal.

There you have it. Remove the historical religious context preserving the dominant role for men and Complementariansim reflects the structure of BDSM and likewise. I guess if I wasn’t a Christian or at least relatively intelligent I would not understand the similarities in theory but it isn’t that difficult when they are presented next to each other.

Now, let’s drill down to my personal kinky favorite and the seeming golden-haired child of kink, Domestic Discipline.

‘Cue Angels Singing’

This excerpt and definition for DD is taken from the Mission Statement of the Discipline and Love Group:

A fully consensual agreement between two loving, committed, monogamous, (usually) heterosexual adults, in which (most commonly) the male partner takes the leading role as ‘Head of Household’ (HOH) or ‘Head of Relationship’ (HOR). This may, or may not, include the introduction of a mutually agreed upon set of rules and conditions of conduct intended to promote connection and harmony within the relationship. These may, or may not, be enforced by means of a form of discipline, most commonly spanking, by the HOH on the generally female partner.

We are fully aware that in an adult intimate relationship, any form of constructive control by one partner over another, especially one that involves the use of physical discipline, often has sexual connotations, and we do not exclude the discussion of this element of the dynamic. However. this site is not about erotic role-playing or sado/masochistic pleasure, but about the serious and meaningful use of domestic discipline as a means to improve and enhance a loving relationship.

Yeah, yeah, consensual. So you say, I heard all DD people were born in Kenya!

But I digress, we do care about the role of submissive women in the power exchange dynamic (sorry female-led and same sex couples, this food-fight is over sub women, no offense, I love y’all, HUGGS!).

Let’s examine information from a good resource on Slaves and Submissives, The Submissive Guide. Here is an excerpt on self-identity.

The Psychological Submissive

The physchological submissive begins his or her submission in their mind. This submissive is submissive in and out of the bedroom. They generally have a need to submit or surrender to a Dominant. The act of submission is mental. S/he can give as much or as little as they wish ot or need to give. They then become the responsibility of the Dominant to determine the direction of the relationship. The surrendering is the power exchange. Once the surrender occurs they can become an empty vessel for the Dominant. Love is not required, as this is a mental and psychological submission.

The Slave Heart Submissive

This submissive wishes to surrender everything without becoming a slave. In comparison with the psychological submissive, a slave heart submissive craves the love of the Dominant they submit to. The act of submission is full of emotion and love. S/he gives all they have for the return of love and trust from the Dominant they serve.

The Slave

Unlike the submissive, a slave must surrender completely and be in complete control of a Master. The slave must feel completely owned. The slave usually feels like nothing until Masters gives them a slave identity. When Masters is happy the slave is happy. Many slaves I have talked to feel this way. They feel most complete when with Masters. The slave beams when s/he brings Master pleasure. The slave must surrender, and the slave is not happy until s/he has surrendered. The slave feels completed when surrendering to a Master.

There you have it, DD in the words of a group promoting DD. Slave and Submissive definitions from a woman who writes a extensive newsletter on the subject in the BDSM arena. She could be considered a guru of sorts since she shares her ample resources and knowledge on the subject with others, but she may just like willing resource better. She was recommended to me by someone many of us remember; Constance, the blogger of My Dabble in the Middle End.

Now considering the charges leveled at DD recently, the admonishment about people living in glass houses throwing stones comes to mind. These definitions don’t exactly sound, er, ah, flexible,,,,,accommodating,,,,,uplifting and all such stuff. I mean, I don’t feel all empowered and authoritative but maybe I misread them,,,

NOT!

However, I don’t want to make the same offensive mistake others have made when attacking DD so I will revisit that dichotomy later this week.

And you don’t have to take my word for any of this. I have a blog roll full of couples who practice DD, pick one. You won’t find this indictment of manic emphasis on control that has been propagated by some bloggers. Likewise if you read the blogs listed there written by women who are self described slaves and submissives, you will find the something else very interesting.

They all sound the same. DD submissives, significant others, Submissives, Slaves, Wives (lol), et al.

They sound like women who chose to enter exchange relationships with dominant men and love it.

All of them.

I like respect, integrity and reality on my blog roll so that is who I tend to link too. I try to share examples of strong power exchange couples or people, no matter their title.

What matters to me? People I can learn from, who either live or are headed in the same direction I am headed. I prefer women who do not use power exchange as a means of abdicating responsibility for their ability to think. I prefer men who do not use power exchange to advance self-serving agendas. The fight should be towards each other, not away. I prefer men who actively love and lead their partners. Maturity? Yes Self-delusion or destructive behavior? No

Now, if I felt like it, I could go into an offshoot of DD called CDD. When coupled with a misinterpretation of scripture, this school of thought veers into rigid constrictive roles that rival the Taliban in Afghanistan. However, most Christians who practice DD do not hold that the scripture requires these rigid interpretations of sexual roles. Since I have given you quite a bit of unhappy CDD talk in other posts I will share a credible CDD link with you.

http://www.christiandd.com/

Nice ladies, nice blog. I suggest you read their review of Mr LDD and his books, quite eye-opening if you are unaware of his background and beliefs. While I don’t believe the Bible addresses DD at all, I do not begrudge people who practice it their beliefs. My issue is and always runs to consent. There are some, the above noted board excluded, who believe once consent is given it non-revocable. Ever. Never. Under any circumstances. This is indefensible, unjustifiable and has no basis in scripture.

Now if I was into BDSM and I knew the internet had the ABUNDANCE of information regarding abuse and misbehavior in that lifestyle, I would not throw stones. Ever. But apparently there is this school of thought that DD looks down on BDSM and considers it a stinky, ill-mannered, amoral, bastard relation (it’s the piss play y’all, sorry). I disagree. I think that the line in the sand is drawn differently and nomenclature has nothing to do with it, so hold that thought.

Every now and again there is this march of the wooden soldiers about all that is wrong with DD, how it is comprised of self-important meanies with superiority complexes. Those DD rascals are all gurus and frauds, (note to Ally, in addition to my creepy t-shirt I will need to order both guru and fraud t-shirts, please don’t let me forget, ok?). The fact of the matter is yes, there are some people who’ve established boards and blogs with no real life experience to base their writings upon. But this has and continues to happen in every arena of power exchange.

Nuh Uh, not BDSM.

Hold that thought, be right back,,,

Does that discredit an entire lifestyle? No. Particularly when you have REAL-LIFE examples of people who live DD daily at your fingertips to reference. I would refer you again to my well-researched blog roll but I will start feeling superior, therefore I press on with an alternative.

Here’s a board full of happy DDers of every stripe:

OTK_DD_Living_Alternatively@yahoogroups.com

The primary moderator is Lynn, you can tell her Dana sent you. She will happily share with you the limited history and evolution of DD – there isn’t much but she is encyclopedic in experience and historic knowledge. Credible. Honest even. Must be the DD in her. A real class act. Enjoy.

Now, BDSM is older and the amount of information available is far more comprehensive. Let’s pop back over to The Submissive Guide for help.

http://www.submissiveguide.com/resources/

This link takes you to her resources page. Chock Full. Lots of gurus, experts, therapists, books, movies, magazines, links, prompts, guides, pictures. You name it, she has it. Information on meetings, gatherings, mixers, munches, trainings, tools of the trade. Hang me, slice me, dice me, clean me, cut me, chain me, drain me, cage me, corral me. She is nothing if not comprehensive.

That’s right, experts. In BDSM. Who’d a thunk it?

Now I could be small and petty, or at least smaller and pettier than I’ve already been and take a trip over to FetLife but it is late and I won’t be able to sleep after I burn my eyes on the pics, so no FetLife tonight. However a casual (meaning unlike the comprehensive, and well-done I might add, research found here, you can just read any random message) review of the boards will reveal all sorts of controlling misogynistic behaviors among those practitioners. Horrible, demeaning, spirit-killing activities in a wild submissive race to the bottom.

Does this make BDSM, the M/s or D/s dynamics in some way more offensive and reprehensible than DD?

In a word, No.

It makes some practitioners of M/s and D/s offensive, reprehensible, abusive and threat to the mental and physical well-being of their partners. But definitely not all.

As pissed-off as I am over the blanket indictment of Christianity and the wholesale slander of DD couples; I can’t return the favor.

Well I could have but I was dragged off the ledge and they took my rifle.

F-in’ commie bastards.

OK no,

That did not really happen.

What really happened was cooler heads prevailed and I was guilted into not posting the broadside salvo I intended to hurl.

Freakin’ Guru Lady, hmph,

Plus,

I know better.

Damn my moral upbringing and quality education.

I read some fairly extensive sites. And unlike many, I read for comprehension not titillation, (Hey, Mrs. Ford!). Seems like a rare occurrence in these parts but it is doable.

I actually respect and admire men across the full-spectrum of power exchange. I cannot in good conscious return an ignorant, ill-advised, biased, poorly worded attack on DD and Christianity with the same. These men, who I have come to admire and respect, don’t deserve it.

It would be character assassination and just plain wrong.

I know,,,

Freakin’ moral code

’sigh’

It is a burden I must bear.

Damn my quality upbringing, ’snarl’,

So, enough for tonight.

Hopefully, this information is enough for you to follow my trajectory and see where I am going here.

No more cutting asides and thinly veiled aspersions for this post. I will do more of that tomorrow. We will get into legalism, protocol, training and all such stuff over the next few days. Discipline, punishment, limits, fear, strength and courage. Choice, confidence, maturity and self-discipline. Semantics – the joy of semantics. All too often we are talking about the same things but using words to either inflate our own or deflate our opponents perceived self-importance.

How lame is that.

And for putting up with this hissy-fit, some real and some fake sex stuff on Friday. CD

[Via http://cultivateddiscipline.wordpress.com]