It’s been a few weeks since I’ve posted, and I’m gearing up for a few more demonstrations and performances coming up in the next few months! Stay tuned for more details!
In other news, I’ll be celebrating my birthday this year at Torture Garden Toronto – at Toronto’s Fetish Weekend as it falls on the May long weekend! So this is an informal invite to come out and party all weekend with me!
I finally had a chance to shoot with my good friends at Kink Engineering – makers of custom fetish latex gear! I even took home a little gift with plans to make some of my own fetish latex wear! I’ll definitely update my adventures with playing with latex! Adventureseeker2 graciously hosted us at his downtown studio while we messed around with latex, rope, suspension, and some hot shoe bondage! Keep an eye out for photos!
The blog is going to be going under construction in the next few days, please bear with us as we evolve and make this kink-friendly space more fun!
Last night I played with the guy I met last week. It was incredibly anti-climactic. He is 20 years older than me, and is not in the same mindframe. I wanted to just go there, play, and leave. He wanted to wine and dine me, and have intimate conversation. When we were done he asked me what my tattoos meant. I told him that it was personal. And he was just like, well we just fucked, that’s personal. But it’s personal in a different way. You know?
Anyways, so I got to his house, which was in a brand new apartment building, which was kind of weird. It made me think of those people who have like one play apartment and one normal one. Although I knew this was not his play apartment since he had a bed for his 5 year old daughter there in the same room as his bed.
After I got there, he gave me some wine, and we had some awkward and forced conversation. He wanted to order some food but I wasn’t hungry. Then we went into the bedroom. He had asked me to not wear a bra, so I wasn’t. He just took off my shirt and started caressing my torso and breasts and kissing my neck. Here is the thing. Especially in VERY casual situations like these, I’m not into kissing, or intimacy such as snuggles, hair rubbing etc. I just want to play, get tied up, tossed around, teased, a little beat up, fucked and be on my merry way. So immediately when he started intimately kissing me I was weirded out.
Not to mention that, in the tiny bedroom, near his bed, separated by a sheer curtain, he has a bed for his 5 year old daughter complete with pink flowery bed clothes and flower decorations on the wall. FUCKING Weird.
Anyways, so he starts by caressing my breasts, I wanted him to pinch my nipples hard, but he was too gentle. Then he told me to lie on the bed. He held me down and started making out with me. As long as I closed my eyes the making out wasn’t too bad. (terrible I know) Then he tells me to get up and undress. He puts these cheesy wrist cuffs on. They were leather and stuff, but kind of bulky. He attached them by a clip. It was annoying though because I could still do anything with my hands. Anyways, then he put a blindfold on me and started teasing me. He would tickle my clit, rub my vaginal area, and tease my actual vaginal opening. He slapped my thighs a little, and my clit, and my tits a few times. I was a good little girl and kept my legs spread and my hands above my head, even though I could have done anything I wanted really. I was turned on, but it wasn’t like awesome or anything.
Then he shaved me. Which was annoying. He obviously didn’t really know what he was doing. It took a really long time. I mean it felt alright, but when I saw it after I was pissed off. It was uneven and terrible looking. Also when he finished up and wiped me off, he lifted up my legs like he was wiping a baby’s bottom. Then he went back to teasing me a bit. He flipped me over and clipped my hands behind my back. This was more like it! I felt a little better being more helpless. But after just a few minutes, he removed the blindfold and unclipped my hands and pulled me up next to him. He wanted to snuggle. UGH. He wanted me to rub his chest. He wanted me to suck on his nipples. blah blah blah. I obliged. He kept teasing me being like “oh will you get to come or not?” I know guys like this. They always let me come. I tell them I want to be teased. What I really want is to be told NO, you can’t come. But they always let me/tell me to. They are pushovers.
Finally, he removed his pants and had me suck his dick. It was kind of small and circumcised, although his balls were unusually large. I like a nice big cock though, and this was not really satisfactory. I sucked him, then he fucked me. It was kind of interesting when he fucked me, he was doing it from behind. I was on my stomach. He clipped my hands together behind HIS back. I thought that was kind of hot.
Then afterwards, he got me off. I knew it. He was weak.
We awkwardly ate Thai, and he tried to ask me all these personal questions. Just because you fucked me does not mean we are like BFF now! I didn’t have a personal connection, or even a good sexual connection with this guy. Being with him just made me miss G, who has like fallen off the face of the planet or something.
To make matters worse, afterwards he sent me a message that just said: good job tonight. Like wtf! What does that even mean?
This guy may have been a “dom” but he didn’t do it for me. I like to be tightly and intricately restrained, I like to be completely helpless, I don’t like it when I feel like I still have SO much power over the guy. I mean obviously any guy should respect your limits, but within that, I would like to be without choice.
This is a film directed by Stuart Gordon based on a short story by H.P. Lovecraft and starring Jeffrey Combs. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? This certainly isn’t the first collaboration between Gordon and Combs, and it certainly won’t be the last. I believe this is actually one of five movies Gordon has made based on short stories written by Lovecraft, which makes reviewing any of them tricky. If the movie is bad, who do we blame? And if it’s good, who do we commend? As much as I would like to blame H.P. Lovecraft for writing awful stories and being a racist, it’s hard to be mad at a dead guy who wrote The Call of Cthulhu. Sorry, Stuart, but I am going to blame you for the this one.
She chose THIS over Ken Foree in his underwear?! Ugh, WOMEN
I think to simply call this movie “bad” would be unfair to all parties involved. Rather, I think this film suffers from a case of split personalities. One thing I noticed about Gordon, which I actually think is pretty effective, is using the opening scene to set the tone of his films. True, most of his films have the same tone, so maybe it’s easy for him to recreate scenes that get the desired effect, but I suppose that’s debatable. The film opens with Combs, playing Crawford Tillinghast, and Ted Sorel, playing Dr. Edward Pretorius, using some sort of device that is glowing and doing wacky stuff. The device causes Dr. Pretorius’ head to explode, but then a dog comes in a licks it. Gordon uses special effects to gross you out, but then brings in comedic relief to avoid frightening you completely. That’s hod most Gordon films are; rather than terrify you, he tends to juxtapose the grotesque with the light-hearted, leaving you unsettled. Turns out this machine was used to manipulate an unused part of your brain that is essentially your sixth sense, seeing more than is actually there. Another doctor finds out about this, and wants to attempt using the device with Crawford there to help, and then the hilarity ensues. There are weird leaches coming from the machine, Dr. Pretorius keeps showing up in stranger and stranger disfigurements, Ken Foree is running around in his underwear, ladies are wearing BDSM outfits, and Crawford is running around with an antenna popping out of his head. The insanity that is the plot can probably be blamed on Lovecraft, but since he was a weirdo freak anyway, I’m sure it made sense in his head.
To be fair, this eyeball sucking scene was pretty touching
The reason I feel this movie suffers from multiple personalities is based on the special effects. I mentioned that Dr. Pretorius keeps showing up and is becoming more and more disfigured, which is where most of the special effects come into play. The effects look like Stuart Gordon had just watched both The Thing (Kurt Russel version, duh) and Videodrome the day before filming this movie and demanded those props be used again. I mean, I don’t blame him, the special effects in both of those movies were awesome, but seeing them used in a different context just a few years later was just a little underwhelming. I mean, there were definitely moments where the effects were cool, which is why I am rating this movie a little higher than I wanted to, I can admit that. But even then, it still appeared as though the effects didn’t work as well, as it seemed there was less movement with the effects than what was achieved in the aforementioned film. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the Gordon/Lovecraft/Combs project that was released a year earlier, Re-Animator. From Beyond, however, just really didn’t do it for me. If you are going to take a short story as bizarre as this one, I would really have liked to seen it go even more bizarre than using recycled effects, sex appeal, and the familiar faces of Ken Foree and Jefferey Combs to try to gain cult credibility.
I generally think that coming out is a bad idea. Anytime you have to articulate your identity you are giving credence to the ideology of heteronormative behavior. When was the last time someone came out to you as straight?
Coming out presupposes a world of coerced conformity. A world where nuclear, heterosexual, two person, monogamous relationships are the prescribed norm. Coming out states that you acknowledge this and are stating your identity as something other than this. Making an apology. Telling people that you understand that everyone is presumed straight, until they say otherwise. This fosters an ideology of reinforced heteronormative behavior patterns. Expecting that people will love you, even though your queer, puts the burden of tolerance, and the power to represent the default identity, on straight people.
I never really thought much about coming out. I grew up in San Francisco. Everyone was queer, queer friendly, out and proud. There were more gay flags flying in my childhood than bigots screaming slurs, a lot more. I’m thinking about this a lot this week as last week I was chased out of a party being called gay. How is it possible that “gay” is an insult? I’m living in a very scary world where heterosexuality is presupposed, expected, and thought to be desirable. I’m living in a world where people use heterosexism as a weapon.
I have issues with coming out, with having to come out and with the problems that you cannot undo once you come out. I’m all about being yourself and not having to explain it to anyone. I’m gonna come out though. Not that you don’t know I’m queer. I’m sure I have said it before. I talk about my girlfriend and about how I prefer to be in non-traditional relationships with people of non-conforming gender identities.
I’m gonna come out as a parent. I have offspring. I almost never mention it to people who don’t need to know. I want to protect my children from the bizarre world of professional perversion I live in and love. I want to keep my worlds separate. I want to have a modicum of privacy. I want to have my cake and eat it too. If I never told you I have children don’t take it personally, you have to be very close to me to have been brought into my world. I don’t trust most people with this part of my life.
I’m in a position where I feel I must come out though. Being silent about my children on my blog and in my art is no longer advantageous. The man who knocked me up when I was a teenager is not giving me any choice. I must come out if I am going to write about the full spectrum of a major problem I am dealing with. If I am going to not censor my writing, I have to come out.
Alright, so now you know I’m a mother. You might be asking how this is relevant. I’m getting to it.
The father of my children, after our brief high school fling, became an evangelical Christian. Once he was into kinky sex and drugs. Now he is married in the suburbs slandering my queer intellectual identity. His wife is a stay at home bleached blond who has nothing but time on her hands. She is reading this blog.
The two of them have a real problem with the way I live my life. They want to throw stones and suggest that I’m not allowed to have more fun than they are. It has been a long time since I have been able to deal with the father of my children in a way that is indicative of adult communication. I’m tired of being called the antichrist. I’m tired of the threats and the hostility. I’m tired of them trying to keep my children from me because I’m a queer, kinky, sex working academic.
The shit has to stop now. I can’t really process things without writing about them. When the wife started posting hate mail to this blog I realized that I could not tell you what I was doing without these crazy Christians knowing too.
I sat stewing for a while. I was going to post my upcoming travel but I didn’t want to tell them what I was up to. I thought I would be covert about it, telling you that I’m having problems with the right wing and that I can only tell you vague details of my trip. I’m sick of trying to dance around their bullshit so I figured it might be easier to out myself as a mother than it would be to deal with them holding this over me, trying to harm my family, playing games. I’m sick of it.
I’m coming to New England to attend a conference, visit some family, and play. I’m bringing my teenage son who wants to look at colleges in the area. I’ll have a little bit of free time to play. Hopefully you want to play. I’m really in the mood to have some fun, get off this crazy coast, away from the Christians, out of the vapid self-loathing monotony of southern California.
I’ll have time to play March 13th – 16th in Western Mass. I might be heading to Cape Cod on the 13th and I will be in NYC for a day but I’m not sure which day. I’ll be in Cambridge with very limited availability March 19th – 21st.
I hope I get to beat you, piss on you, and write a dirty story to anger the crazy Christians. Help me have some fun, pay my increased tuition, and get out of the funk that is becoming the essence of my life. Come on, let’s live a little!
In the midst of a particularly hectic time for me and Sir alike, it is always so comforting for me to come home at the end of the day and find Sir sitting at his desk. I walk up to him, kneel beside his chair and put my head in his lap while he strokes my hair. It isn’t long until I’m the one doing the stroking, unzipping his pants and taking his cock in my mouth.
There hasn’t been much heavy impact play, which I both miss and am grateful for, as I’m incredibly busy and more often than not just want some intimacy and some satisfaction from pleasing my lover, my master, my best friend.
I also love the quick jaunts home for lunch, when we meet, shovel food into our mouths and have a hard, rough, sweaty quickie before running back out the door, all smiles from the nasty secrets dampening our pants.
After two years, I think I’m even more passionate and even deeper in my submissive mindset than I was early in the lust stage of our relationship. And that makes me smile. I’m sitting here naked, in my collar, just finished fucking myself and…happy. I hope everyone feels that ray of sunshine-y goodness today. At least for a moment.
It’s been a hard week filled with good and bad. I am a lucky woman. I have some amazing people in my life and the fact that I am so blessed sometimes scares me. I am scared of it all being taken away. I feel silly talking about it now because the zen thing to do would be to enjoy, be happy and just bask.
My grandma tells this story… she was out in a friend’s orchard with the family, picnicking. As they sat there eating, a dog comes by. In that area, the dogs are semi-stray. The farmers feed them but they are not pets. They fend for themselves as well and when they aren’t out on their own they stick around and guard the area. So my grandma, seeing the dog, throws him some food at which point the dog grabs it and promptly runs in a corner and buries it. Then he trots back and stares expectantly. My grandma throws him more food and he performs the same routine. This gets repeated quite a few times and the dog never takes a bite of anything, opting to save it all for later.
I feel like that dog. Like sometimes, I get so scared of future I completely forget to enjoy today. I’d like it to be otherwise and I am slowly teaching myself to live life with more tranquility.
That aside, did you all see canucks kick American butt in Olympic hockey? Our girls and our boys did us proud! The men’s game was really a good match to watch too. We were on the edge of our seats the last half an hour. Now you think having an American around the house to tease and taunt would be fun but Luke wouldn’t play. He thinks Olympics are frivolous and over rated and he simply met my taunting with, “I am glad Canada won.” The man can be so aggravating!
Otherwise, I am so bogged down with work that I can hardly look up. I’ve been dreaming of sucking Luke’s cock and we just don’t have enough time. When I have a moment he is busy. When he finishes up, I am sleepy. It’s just ridiculous. I have been so focused on my desire to suck his cock that today I was in passing telling him I liked his cock and he asked, what do you like about it, and I replied that I love how the skin moves over the shaft when I suck it. He countered with, “how about the way it stretches your cunt open” and for a second there I was thinking what?!!!. And a split second later it occurred to me that yes, his cock can also be used for fucking my cunt and not just my mouth. I suspect I have an oral obsession.
Long and short of it, I have to clear my schedule. Can you believe I still have not received my spanking related birthday surprise I was promised? And I need to be hurt so badly. I want his hands on me not in the nice blissful way. I want to feel how hard and heavy his hands are. I want him to be cruel. I need him to make me scream. I NEED it. The little masochist girl in me is getting close to start begging for it. And I hate begging for it. It’s one of the very few things that still have the capacity to make me shy. But I can’t help it. Any second now I am going to make a tray of a ginger plug, his biggest butt plug, nipple clamps and his belt then strip naked, go down on my knees and kneel somewhere noticeable and wait for him to ravage me.
Puhhhhleeeeeeaaaaaaasssse. Hurttttt meeee.
Ok, that’s just sad.
*laughing*
You know what is stoking my fire by the way? I usually tend to maintain a slow burn for a long time without complaining. What is making it worse is that he wants to hurt me and I can see it in his eyes and feel it in the way he touches me. He wants to bruise me and when he wants, I go into a frenzy. He can give me a hungry look and walk away and I go from a mild state of horny into wet, flushed and begging for it in 2 seconds. His desire is my aphrodisiac.
Ok, I am going to go schedule myself some sex. Or at least a blow job and a spanking.
