Saturday, March 6, 2010

Yes, Virginia, there IS a Satan.

The state of my birth, Virginia, has decided that it's going to inform all of its state universities that they're no longer allowed to have anti-discrimination policies that mention sexual orientation. Not that they're no longer REQUIRED, but that they're actively PROHIBITED. And presumably, any college that doesn't rescind their offending policy is going to lose funding.

If anyone is reading this, if anyone gives a shit, please do something about this, or at least stop and think for a minute about how this is going to affect YOUR life. The LGBTQ folks in your life are basically being slapped in the face by a government that says that their pain and problems mean nothing.

I mean, earlier this year we saw a U.S. congresswoman say that she didn't think gay marriage should exist because anal sex is gross. That's basically saying that someone's human rights are worth nothing because you personally are grossed out by what they like to do in their free time. Not even that--by what you IMAGINE that they're doing in their free time.

If you're at all interested in my blog, I'm guessing you're kinky. If the government can come after queer folk, they can come after you. These policies are reactionary, intended to undo decades of work on the part of activists. This is, for Virginia, a last-ditch attempt to get anti-gay policy back on the books. If this fails--maybe we can finally be done with this nonsense.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

The Vagina Monologues, or Sisterhood! Yeah! (A review of sorts)

So I went to the Vagina Monologues tonight. Because my friends all chickened out, I went alone. I mean, what kind of self-aware young feministe am I if I can't even go to a play by myself, right? I'm kind of embarrassed that I even considered not going if I was going alone. But I went, and I had a blast. It was standing room only in the theater, and I found a seat on the aisle stairs just above a butch girl with an afro. Just me and my vagina, taking in a show.

The Vagina Monologues isn't a problem-free work. There's a pretty heavy emphasis on this imaginary "they": i.e., the they who make tampons, thong underwear, and douche sprays. And I think this imaginary they is male. It's strongly implied. So there are some anti-male sentiments, but luckily some pro-male as well. There's this one monologue at the beginning called "Because He Liked To Look At It." And it's about a woman who meets a guy for a one-night stand, and this man LOVES her vagina. He spends easily an hour just examining it and looking at it with an expression of total reverence, and this experience changes forever the way she sees her body.

And I can get behind that. I know that if I'd had some of the negative experiences described in the Monologues, even some of the more minor ones like getting rejected by a guy for having a wet vagina, I'd probably not be anything like as enlightened and body-satisfied as I am now.

The stories they told were incredibly moving, and I encourage people to check out the YouTube videos of the different acts if there's no show in your area. Some of them are painful, and some of them are funny, and some are both. The music acts are the only part of the show that didn't seem to fit. There are three songs, and none of them are vagina-centric enough for me to feel like they fit the theme. I spent the song sequences trying to read my program in the dark and thinking about my vagina.

Maybe that's what those interludes are for. The quiet acoustic guitar, the warmth of the cramped theater, and me, staring at my crotch, thinking about how neat it is that I'm finally beginning to appreciate this strange, magical thing I've got. I never really appreciated my vagina until recently, and this show couldn't have come at a better time. I feel energized, and happy, and ready to go on new adventures in life. Me and my vagina (cunt, coochie snorcher, pookie, pooter, pussycat, snooky), taking on the world.

P.S. This production of The Vagina Monologues was raising money for RAINN (The Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network.) If you want to donate to them, you can do so at

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Basics of BDSM

This is the piece I put together for my friend Em's presentation on sexuality for a bunch of teens and young adults. While I'm totally unqualified to speak to them (I have maybe six months of experience with kinky shit), I think that I've absorbed enough helpful advice to compile the basic Safety Tips list. So here it is:

BASICS OF BDSM
(A thoroughly non-comprehensive guide)

Okay, so what about non-traditional sex, you ask? What about the weird stuff with the whips and the chains and the women in the spiky boots and the…well, the S&M? You can get all kinds of information about it on the Internet, but what do you really need to know before you can start trying it out for yourself? If you’re gonna be swinging a riding crop around, here’s some basics of how to hurt people without, you know, HURTING PEOPLE.
1. Consent. Don’t spring this on anyone. Talk about it beforehand. It doesn’t have to be a scary discussion. Just say what you wanna do and see if they’re all right with it. This is true for all sex, but especially for the kinky stuff.
2. Safewords. At first, I suggest just using “stop”. Have something that means “this is too much and I need it to be over NOW.” Respect it.
3. Get informed! Mistress Matisse at thestranger.com is one of the friendliest dominatrixes on the Internet and she often writes columns about the basics of BDSM, and answers questions like “how do I talk to my partner about kinky stuff?” Scarleteen.com, a site for teen sex ed, has some information about BDSM as well.
4. NO CHOKING. I can’t stress this strongly enough. The people who beat people up for a living, who do all kinds of crazy stuff? Most of them won’t do choking or asphyxiation. No ropes around the neck, no plastic bags on your head, no hands on anyone’s throat. It’ll kill you dead, and then you can’t have sex anymore. And that’s no fun at all.
5. Start easy. Want to spank someone? Don’t just haul off and whack ‘em. You can always go for more intensity later.
6. Stay away from vital organs. If you don’t know where they are, check a medical chart. If you can’t find one, stick to the butt and upper thighs. Also, don’t cut off anyone’s circulation. If you can’t fit two fingers into a binding, it’s probably too tight.
7. Fun stuff. Get an outfit together. Practice your dirty talk. Try walking in your thigh-high boots beforehand. And wave your implements of pain with confidence, knowing that you’ve got a partner who’s willing to try something new and exciting with you. If that last sentence doesn’t apply to you, see step one.

I hope this is useful to the lil' ones (and by lil' ones, I mean kids from probably 16 to 21 or so.)

Man, I don't even know when this event IS and I've got performance jitters. But that's okay, because I'm now the proud owner of a HOLLOW STRAP-ON. It's a pretty neat idea; you put it on and use your man or male-organed partner as a human sex toy. AND it has very elastic straps, so it fits me AND my beloved (but giant) Tim. I've been hankering to try it out...

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Not that I've been here recently, but...is it too late to try again?

So, the blog and I have been taking a break. Seeing other projects/project-doers, you know how it goes. But I think it's time I return.

I've had a weird month or so, between school and trying to venture out into new territory socially, and the blog fell by the wayside. But I think it's time to start saying sexy, sexy things again. And dear (abandoned, loyal) imaginary readers, the things I can tell you now!

For example, I just got my first job writing about BDSM. Well, not that it paid. My dear friend Em is one of those people who likes to educate young folk, and she's planning a sex ed discussion, Q&A event in her own city. She's invited me to come and lead the discussion on the kinky stuff, and I wrote her up a little blurb talking about the dos and don'ts of BDSM which I'll probably post here soon. So I have a day trip in my future.

Tim and I have been up to shenanigans, and we finally went back to the fetish club last weekend. The weekend before I'd told the frightening lady who kissed him that she'd overstepped her bounds, and this weekend she wasn't there, so everything went smoothly--er, except for the part where it took me three trips between the club and my house to get my ID. Important lesson, children: if you're wearing clothing with no pockets, give your housekeys to the person you're going home with, not your dancing-happy friend.

More news is on the way, I promise. There will be sexcapades, and humorous anecdotes, and probably a list of what I'm reading now that I'm reading again. Well, maybe. This is a trial reconciliation between me and my blog. We'll have to see how it goes.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

The Incredible Busyness

So in the past week, I've been up to my ears in new classes and have generally had no time to write. On top of that, my next blog post will feature me in a submissive role (super sexy, I assure you) and that's not something I quite know how to write about yet. So in the meantime, I'm going to talk about time.

Time is an odd thing. It's elastic, in that an hour can stretch out to last an eternity and twelve hours can pass in a blur and leave you saying "You have to go? So soon?" Time has been running oddly for me since I got back to school. I'm constantly exhausted for no particular reason and can't remember why, until I realize that I've been up for at least 18 hours and it's really time that I was sleeping again. Tim's schedule runs almost diametrically opposed to mine, so that as soon as I'm ready to sit down and relax, he's packing his things to head to work.

Hopefully soon the gods of Time will line up and give me what I need, which is a little more stretchy time. Blocks of time where I can sit down and write, or actually have a conversation with my boyfriend that doesn't end in one of us saying "I've got to sleep" or "I've got to leave." Time to go and buy some textbooks, and get out to the store and pick out some new socks.

I have it much better than my roommate, of course. She's working 40 hours, taking classes full time, and she just bought a dog. But right now, and for the next week or so, it feels like there's simply no time for anything but collapsing into sleep.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Baby's First Fetish Gathering

So on Saturday night, I went to my first-ever fetish club. A good friend of mine isn't particularly kinky, but he has a membership because he's realized that it's a great place to meet nerdy women (further discussion of the overlap between nerds and kinksters can be found on Mistress Matisse's blog.) I was, of course, there to meet kinky people, talk some shop, and maybe get to watch someone play. I've always been interested in public play (something Tim is NOT into) and so this was my chance to see a little of that.

Well, for a first impression, I think I did okay. Especially since I think I got hit on by at least four different people, most of whom are part of this sprawling polyamorous family. I met Jack, easily the world's most charming and handsome trans man, who apparently grew up going to the same comic book shop I did.

And I got to watch a guy get whipped, flogged, and paddled. Of course, I also got to watch him pass out from low blood sugar.

What I noticed when this man hit the ground was this: instantly, he had six or seven people at his side, lifting him, checking his breathing, getting him orange juice from the bar and a plate of cheese fries. His dominant, a woman in a floor-length red dress, sat him down and held him and told him that if he was going to diet (which apparently he was) he needed to actually eat, and he needed to warn her before he got to the point of fainting.

And then of course there were the people rushing in to assure me, the new kid in town, that this was not at all normal and that the man would be fine and that I shouldn't worry about this happening to me. I'd say that about 90% of the people there were personable, charming, and fascinating. Although they all seemed to be under the impression that I was very submissive. Maybe I'm just shy.

The only thing I didn't like about the evening was this pushy older woman who tried to convince me to bring Tim inside when he came to pick me up. She followed me outside, and when I told her that he was incredibly shy and wouldn't want to come in, she asked if she could at least talk to him. So when he pulled up at the curb she got INTO THE CAR, kissed him, and basically got all up in his spot.

I'm angry at this woman for a variety of reasons. First, she didn't listen to me the first time I said no to her. Second, she didn't ask Tim before she touched him, which is a standard rule of politeness in any circle and even more so in the BDSM world. But I'm more upset with myself than with her. I should have been firmer with her, should have told her that she needed to not get in his space, and I didn't. Why? Because I didn't want to be rude. But setting clear physical and mental boundaries is so important in this kind of situation that I feel like an idiot for forgetting it.

Overall, I had a great time. I liked the people. But if I'm going to go back, and if I'm going to try to get involved in this community, I need to teach myself how to say no, how to say it firmly, and how to stick to my guns.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Come v. Cum

All right, I have a confession to make. The word "cum" irritates me to no end.

I know it's meant to distinguish between the action and the substance produced. "I felt myself beginning to come" versus "The cum ran down her upturned face and into her hair." And yet, every time I look at it, I feel like the person who wrote it is illiterate. It sounds like text-speak at best.

And yet, as a word, I have to admire it. "Cum" has seized a position of prominence as a word, becoming widely-used and regarded as the correct word almost simultaneously. Hardly anyone anymore says "The line of white come shot from his member as he gasped out her name." So until the language changes again, perhaps to an even simpler term, I guess that "cum" is here to stay.

As Tim points out, the word "cum" has a nice visceral look to it. It's short, to the point, and is pronounced exactly the way it's spelled. Cum, and words of its ilk, are the wave of the future. As our language becomes more straightforward, more coded and less nuanced, more technical, words like cum may crop up everywhere. And in the name of simplicity and ease of use, I may have to concede.

But I blatantly refuse to say "cumming."

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Being a Long and Unsexy Post on the nature of Reading and Writing

I'm a writer. Or at least, I try to be. At least once a day I pull up a manuscript on my handy dandy computer and stare at it, trying to make more words appear with the sheer power of my mind. Quite often, it works, but there are some days when the amount--and quality--is pretty pathetic.

Right now I'm working on a story idea that I love. And yet, each paragraph is taking me about a year as I look over it and go "no, that's not quite right...maybe if I--huh." It's like pulling your own teeth at the dentist while heavily anesthetized.

I'm thinking that what I may need is more fuel. But what is fuel for a writer? Bagels and coffee? Worry? These usually work for me, but today, not so much. I think what I need is to read more.

There are some horrifying statistics out there on reading. For example, 1/3 of the people who graduate from high school never read a book again. 42% of college graduates don't read after they close their last textbook. While I'm an English major, who's probably going to make reading and writing into some part of my career, I'm worried by the idea that I'll never read just for funsies again.

So I'm reading. I'm easing myself in with a new book by an author I like, and then I'm going to read Water for Elephants, which I understand was written during National Novel Writing Month (always one of my peak periods of productivity. More on that at some point.) After that, I'm wondering what's next. I just finished Beloved by Toni Morrison, which was apparently inspired by Faulkner's writing, so maybe that's a place to go.

How do you choose a book to read for fun? Until this year I had a lot of disdain for reading books for their "literary merit" rather than for sheer enjoyment, but I had an English professor who turned this opinion on its head: who says that literary reading isn't pleasurable, or that fun reading can't be literary? It was so simple that it bowled me over. So, my new quest: to savor difficult books, and look for the complexity in apparently "fun" ones.

Monday, January 11, 2010

On Restraint

So, dear readers, I owe you an apology for not posting for a week. Since last Monday, I've had all kinds of amazing sex and have purchased a face dildo, but the problem with having sex is that you don't have all that much time to write about it.

So today, class, let's talk about restraint.

I don't necessarily mean in the bondage sense, although that's certainly an aspect of it. I'm talking about the tension that is deliberately created between what you want to be doing and what your instincts tell you is acceptable, and the sex acts that grow out of this tension.

I was talking to a friend of mine about bukkake, that thing where a group of men stand around in a circle and masturbate onto the face of a young woman. This friend said that he liked to look at it, but probably couldn't do it in real life because he felt like it was a "passionless" act. I immediately felt myself starting to disagree. Now, normally when this happens it's just because I'm a stubborn contrarian.

But in this case, I spotted something kind of subtle and wonderful about bukkake. It's a symbolic sex act if there ever was one. A crowd of men stands around a woman and covers her in semen, often without touching her. It's a gesture of mass violation that doesn't require any bodily contact. Under the surface is this teeming mass of sexual feelings, concealed under an act that looks impersonal, even offhand (if you'll pardon the pun.) It's the restraint, the NOT turning the act into a gangbang, that makes it so powerful.

And it's fascinating to me that this act, intended to be a symbol for something else, has, in its bottling of intense emotion, become a desire all on its own.

So, what about you, dear reader? Can you think of a situation where the symbol of an act is more satisfying than the act itself? Or where holding off is more exciting than letting go?

Monday, January 4, 2010

What what? (Sexual Content)

So it turns out that when you separate me and Tim for three weeks and we don't get to have sex, when we come back together we do EVERYTHING. In our first 24 hours together we've had sex five times and knocked a whole litany of things off of the List. This afternoon we did a schoolgirl roleplay where I was the good little Catholic girl and he was the dirty headmaster. I told him I was a virgin and he accused me of touching the other girls. It was so wicked and cute at the same time.

My hopes for the evening were pretty specific. Tim is pretty touchy about taking anything up the ass, but it's one of those things that I find incredibly hot. He's pretty much always worried about poop, which I suppose is a valid fear, but today he agreed to let me use some anal beads on him. I think that purchasing him a black face-mounted dildo clinched the deal. (Oh, kinky Christmas gifts...)

After we got back from our sex shop run, after a lot of getting up, going to the bathroom, sitting back down, getting up and getting water, and every other distraction I could think of, I got him naked and curled up behind him under the blankets with my arms around his waist. I got out some anal beads we'd bought a while ago and never used.

"You want to do it like this?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said. Tentative, nervous. I like that.

I spread his ass cheeks and pushed the first bead inside. This convulsive shiver went through him and I stroked his back, told him how good he was. Then I reached down and did another, and another.

"Stop there for now," he said. He had that tone in his voice that he uses when he's feeling submissive, soft and gentle and sweet. It makes me want to do awful things to him.

I wrapped one arm back around his waist and grabbed his cock with the other. He was rock hard, which normally doesn't happen when I play with his ass.

"Oh my god," I said. "You like this, don't you? You little slut."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. He was gasping; I've never seen anything like it. "Yes, yes. Your little whore."

"Can you take more?"

"I think so."

I slid the next three beads in, and he groaned and rubbed his ass up against me. It turned me on to see him thrashing, grinding, begging, filled up.

I flipped him over and he tried to jerk off but I slapped his hand away.

"No," I said. "I want to fuck you."

"Oh, please," he said. "Please fuck me."

Where's a condom when you need one? I fished around in the sex box and finally came out with one, ripped open the packaging, and unrolled it onto his cock while he thrust his hips up and down. I pulled up my skirt and slid myself down onto him. I hadn't realized until then how wet I was.

Now, in order to fully appreciate what happened next, you should know that while Tim is a brave man, he's been very hesitant about his ass, especially my ultimate hope for it: fucking it with a strap-on--and more than that, he doesn't usually like the idea of gender play. So what happened next was pretty extraordinary.

"Oh, God!" He thrust up into me from underneath. "Oh god, oh--we're going to buy you a strap-on, and you're going to fuck me in the ass, and I'm going to suck your big cock!"

I concur.

Friday, January 1, 2010

The (Second) List Arriveth

This is Tim's list of things to do in 2010. Some of them may have been influenced by talking to me, but I'm kind of surprised by how much they overlap. And I think this proves that he's as inventive as I am, and probably way kinkier--a point of much personal dispute. Enjoy.

TIM'S LIST

Get seduced/sexually distracted away from a game.

Teacher Student role play we did that freaked me out

Sitting in a chair. Why haven't we done that yet?

Prostate milking

Anal sex by both parties (not at the same time)

Clothed female nude male

I want to be a doctor or scientist and get to experiment on you

Rape you

Drug&rape me (alcohol will work for "drug"). Just taken advantage of when I am not all there mentally.

I want to have sex in a field. Like of flowers or wheat or something. Or in a forrest. Either/or

A whole day of you being the dominant one, not limited to sexual or non-sexual. Like a whole day.

Same as above, but opposite roles.

Angry sex. Or simulated angry sex. Something along those lines, I want to try it. This might go in to the whole "me raping you" thing.

Minor suspension bondage. If we can't find a place/way to do this, then we won't worry about it though.

School girl roleplay.

I want to be the dirty uncle/priest/teacher/authority figure

Somebody else watching. Either from a video tape or in the room or something.

Hot wax or hot glue gun

Some sort of interrogation scene.

To be quite honest, just reading this list makes me want to fuck him in at least three of the ways listed all at once. Sunday cannot possibly come fast enough.

The List Arriveth

Ah, the first of the year. The time for epic resolutions, new beginnings, and watching the relationships in my family devolve into petty squabbling over the TV remote. (Seriously, grownups?)

As it is the first of the year, I'm going to post my epic list of things I want to do in bed in the coming year. Other lists may follow soon, including the ten books I want to read in 2010, but this list has been formulating for a long time and gets priority. Greta Christina has a great list over at Blowfish of her sexual resolutions as well. Hers are more broad principles to apply, whereas mine are pretty specific. So without further ado, let me present to you--the list.

THINGS TO DO IN BED IN 2010
1. Sleep with a woman
This has been big on my to-do list since my sophomore year of high school, when I licked birthday cake off of the face of a six foot tall bisexual German Amazon. Now, thanks to Tim, it looks like it may actually happen.

2. Take the submissive role in a teacher-student roleplay

This is something I've wanted to happen for a long time; in fact, it was the first "kinky" thing I ever tried to talk someone into doing with me. It's high time it happened.

3. Fuck, and be fucked, in the ass
Tim and I have been dancing around this for a long time. It's happening, dammit.

4. Be worshiped.

This ought to be fun, in a practically vanilla kind of way. I want to be bathed, pampered, and fussed over, brought grapes and drinks and basically adored, all while being scornful and dismissive myself.

5. Do some medical roleplay
Rubber gloves, sponge baths, and maybe some "tests." Yes.

6. Make a porn.
What more explanation do you need?

7. Get more aggressive with hurting Tim
He can handle more, and I need to stop being such a wuss about it. Included in this is greater psychological suspense. He handled the last scene so well that I think I can definitely push him farther.

8. Get tied up and "molested."
We've played with this a little, but never for more than a few minutes. I'd like at least a half an hour of it.

9. Have semi-public sex of some kind.
A bathroom in a cafe? The pretty secluded roof of the building next to mine? Watch this space for further developments.

10. Go to at least one kinky or fetish event.
I'll probably be doing this one without Tim, because he's a pretty shy and private person, but I want to get out there and meet some other kinky people and see if there's something there for me. A good friend of mine has some contacts he's willing to help me explore.

And that's about it for my list. When Tim gets around to e-mailing me his, it'll go up too. Until then--imaginary readers, feel free to chime in with your lists for the new year, sexual or otherwise.