Posted on | July 22, 2014 | No Comments
My semi-regular roundup of interesting reads, found from all over the place.
Content Notes: Discussions about physical injury; harrassment; mental illness
Tips for My Fellow Late in Life Leg Shavers: “Be prepared to feel like a traitor: Maybe this is just me living in a very pro-leg hair community while also carrying Jewish-Catholic guilt but as great as I feel about my decision I can still hear every person with leg hair I pass think, “Wow, look at that sucker caving to patriarchal standards of beauty. I might be a plagiarist who steals old ladies’ purses but at least I’ve remained strong.” Honestly most people aren’t judging you and those that are judging you are forgetting that You Are Allowed To Do What You Want With Your Body In Order To Feel Happy And Safe And Comfortable so you can throat kick those people as well.” (Constance Zaber)
How to Orgasm with Spinal Cord Injury: “What matters is whether or not we enjoy living our bodies. What the descriptions of orgasmic experience tell us — descriptions that are indistinguishable between the women with SCI and the able-bodied women — is that spinal cord injury doesn’t impact the pleasure a woman can have.” (Emily Nagoski / Medium)
The Genderbread Plagiarist: “Trans and gender-non-conforming people weren’t asked by Mr. Killermann to take the lead to speak on any of this. None of the people who’d worked on the concept long before he tumbled onto it on Tumblr were asked whether they’d consented to his unattributed use or interpretation(s) of their work for his own self-branding/self-promotion benefit (which is more the Samuel Killermann Show than it is anything resembling community-based social justice work or advocacy). This is a classic case of intersectional appropriation, if not outright intellectual theft.” (cisnormativity / Storify)
F___ censorship: “Maybe the answer’s simple. We must debate what cannot be debated. Discuss what is forbidden. Consider openly what is blasphemous. If words are all we have left against our entrenched leaders, then perhaps we should wield words as creatively and daringly as possible – through satire or parody, in novels or on the Internet, over Twitter and on the streets, in songs and poetry that prove our minds still independent. Let them know we are watching. That we will not be disrespected and infantilized. That we own our own thoughts, because we own our words.” (Miguel Syjuco / Rappler)
Curbing Online Abuse Isn’t Impossible. Here’s Where We Start: “To truly shift social norms, the community, by definition, has to get involved in enforcing them. This could mean making comments of disapproval, upvoting and downvoting, or simply reporting bad behavior. The best online forums are the ones that take seriously their role as communities, including the famously civil MetaFilter, whose moderation is guided by a “don’t be an asshole” principle.” (Laura Hudson / Wired)
Mental Illness: Not a Flavor, Not an Excuse: “[RPG] Players treat mental illness like a topping on a character, a bit of sprinkles to add to make them more ‘interesting’ with hardly a thought as to what that says about mental illness.” (Shoshana Kessock / Imaginary Funerals)
Posted on | July 20, 2014 | 18 Comments
New Zealand isn’t huge on flags like some nations – but there are still a few around. Enough that you know you’re in New Zealand and not Australia (who have a similar flag – we have four stars; they have six). Places you’re always guaranteed to see the New Zealand flag in Auckland (provided it’s not too windy) are on the top of the Harbour Bridge and in Cornwall Park. Oh my! That’s where Modesty Ablaze, her hubby, and I met up for lunch
No way were we going to miss this opportunity. You’ll have to imagine the glee, but it was there.
Of course, being Cornwall Park there were a fair few vehicles and people around. Not that it’s a problem – we just made like tourists until the coast was clear!
Wind? Check. Hair everywhere? Check. Clothes pulled up/aside/undone? Check check check!
There are more great photos of this location on Modesty Ablaze’s site – Katie’s hubby takes excellent photos!
Posted on | July 15, 2014 | 3 Comments
The first night of Kinky Camp there was (as there was every night) a play party. As there were a number of spaces to play in, Hylas and I had some choice, and both being a) somewhat overwhelmed by crowds and b) rather knackered from presenting the Rubber Workshop that afternoon, we went for the smaller space – the room we’d presented in, and which was usually colonised by the rope players.
However with the exception of two other people it was deserted: everyone else was out in the courtyard watching a full-on single-tail session. So we made the most of the (relative) quiet and had some play.
Hylas is very good at service topping – while I am definitely still Boss, I am happy to put myself in his hands. To start things off he did some excellent bastinado on my feet, using various wooden implements I’d brought with me. I lay back, blindfolded, and relaxed into the thuddy sensations as he slowly built the firmness up.
When he was getting sore hands (and I was satisfied) he lay down the implements and went fossicking in my toy bag. I’d put all sorts of things into it when packing for camp, and I had no idea what he was hunting for.
Now I had no idea what he had planned. I knew he was putting pegs on my belly, and that there was plenty of pinching and tugging (and just a tiny bit of tickling) going on in the process. But I was unaware that they were all strung together in a line, attached and reliant on one another.
And while I knew he’d put on quite a few, my counting skills were rotten – between floatiness from the bastinado and an increasing pinchy burn from the pegs on the belly I was losing it utterly. Some! I knew there were some!
I definitely did not know there was a length of string left free at the end, for Hylas to pull on when he decided he was ready. Well, I started to get the idea when he began to tug on it and everything moved. Practice runs, apparently.
When he decided the time was right? He lifted up that string on an angle and pulled hard, and everything unzipped. Nine pegs in a row came flying off me, held together by that string.
It HURT. Fire across my belly, and I lost my breath before catching it again and then losing it and coming so hard that my whole body bowed up as I spasmed. Behind my blindfold fireworks shot everywhere, and my heels pressed down into the floor before I finally started to unclench, uncurl, relax.
When I could talk again:
…That was awesome.
I hate it when he knows before I do that I’m going to love something. But he was, most definitely, correct
Posted on | July 9, 2014 | 5 Comments
Since I first got my own computer - shortly after moving out of home at nineteen – I’ve chatted online. From the early days using ICQ, through to MSN and Google Chat, I remain a nearly daily chatter, currently making use of Pidgin (PC), Xabber (Android) and various XMPP accounts.
When I first started to use chat I learned very swiftly what my comfort limits were. I liked talking with with friends – not strangers randomly bothering me, or the occasional bot. Hence I’ve always set things up so a request needs to be accepted first, and then we’re off
Whether it’s been for querying Apollo if we need milk; catching up with what Kiana’s been up to; saying hi to Hylas; or talking dirty with m’Lady, my chat focus is on the people who are important to me in some way. Currently my Pidgin has all of 20 people in it, arranged into four groups. (In days past, I’d have easily over 100, but I’ve gotten pickier over the years.)
Random ‘A/S/L’ queries have never done it for me, whether in a message on a dating site or elsewhere. So if I’m chatting with you, you know I value you in my life: you’re someone that I want to keep up with more than regular Twitter updates, and definitely more than (very sporadic and mostly missed) Facebook news.
If I seek you out on chat? You’re important to me. But if you’re in my life and you seek me out? Even better.
Filthy chats from the past
Why chat is so important
Want to chat with me? Drop me a line and I’ll give you my address.
Posted on | July 1, 2014 | No Comments
My semi-regular roundup of interesting reads, found from all over the place.
Content Notes: discussion of triggers; insulting words; water sports
Let’s Call Sex Work What It Is: Work: ” For every escort who would never give up her privacy by working in a strip club, chancing that someone she knew would come in, there’s a stripper who would never give up her privacy by working in porn or having her image posted online, and there’s a porn performer who would never have sex for money outside the context of a porn shoot.” (Melissa Gira Grant / The Nation)
Scott and Scurvy: “They had a theory of the disease that made sense, fit the evidence, but was utterly wrong. They had arrived at the idea of an undetectable substance in their food, present in trace quantities, with a direct causative relationship to scurvy, but they thought of it in terms of a poison to avoid.” (Maciej Cegłowski)
Triggered: “Speaking about trigger warnings as though they exist for the purposes of indulging fragile sensibilities fundamentally misses their purpose: To mitigate harm.” (Melissa McEwan / Shakesville)
Ten Words to Use Instead of Insane, Crazy, Lame, Gay or Retarded: “I’m ashamed that – as someone who has bastioned the use of “gay” to mean homosexual, fabulous, happy or any of its actual definitions instead of an insult, and who quit using “retarded” a long time ago – it took a conversation I only by chance happened upon on Twitter for me to take a moment to even notice the issues with lame, crazy and insane (crazy and insane are words that degrade people with mental illness, and lame is an ableist term).” (Queerie Bradshaw)
The Most Important Thing Teen Girls Should Do But Don’t: Masturbate: “I’ve never talked to my daughter about masturbating, because, well, we simply don’t talk about female masturbation. We talk about male masturbation. Movies, TV shows, jokes, pop culture references. There is a near endless list of slang terms for men getting themselves off. We talk about teenage boys doing it, adult men doing it. Boys and men talk to each other about doing it. But when it comes to women, it’s near radio silence.” (Jenny Block / Jezebel)
Posted on | June 8, 2014 | 25 Comments
What else are you going to do when you have a very cold room (aka chiller) just off the industrial kitchen at your campsite? That’s right, I’m going in!
Thanks to Hylas for taking photos both here and in the kitchen (still to come)!
Posted on | June 1, 2014 | 25 Comments
Seems like I am so slow to get around to writing about my amazing experiences, these days! Earlier this year Apollo and I took a much-needed break and travelled up to the Hokianga, which was an area of New Zealand neither of us had been to before. We stayed at a friend’s holiday home for 5 glorious days, with absolutely nothing planned except relaxation time.
Relax we did! We slept in, fucked (on the very very creaky bed), read a whole bunch, fucked in the sunshine, played Scrabble, watched out-of-date TV shows, and fucked some more. Oh, and spent one day exploring the Hokianga area, too, but the photos from that exploration are for another post.
These photos are from after our outdoor sex shenanigans, as I was post-orgasmic, relaxed, and very very happy. It’d been a long time since he and I had fucked outside, and as a bonus, he’d helped me to realise one of my long-held fantasies – so I was like a cat in cream! (As the prompt for today’s Sinful Sunday is black and white, you can see colour versions if you click through on each image.)
Everyone deserves relaxing holidays with the people they love.
Posted on | May 31, 2014 | 2 Comments
Tomorrow is the day that I’ve been waiting for: it’s the day where I fly back over to Melbourne.
Tomorrow I will be back with m’Lady, my owner, for two whole weeks.
Tomorrow I will be on an aeroplane for four hours, wearing my knee-high boots, a short dress and no underwear. My tag will be shiny in my ear. My face will be bright with smiling anticipation. My aroma of arousal may possibly be noticeable, if you’re close enough.
Tomorrow my hand luggage will contain:
- my collar, ready to put on after customs
- a comfortable buttplug
- smartballs for my cunt
- two single sachets of lube
Tomorrow, after I have been through customs in Melbourne I will visit the airport bathroom to put in my smartballs and plug, filling two of my three holes. I may masturbate, just a little. Then I will go and catch a taxi to m’Lady’s house.
Tomorrow I will be tempted to offer the taxi driver oral services in return for the journey. I will definitely be tempted to show them what’s under my dress. I will want to wank as they drive me to my owner. Of course, I can’t get the passenger’s seat damp … that would be wrong. So mostly I am just tempted. Still, who knows where the conversation will go?
Tomorrow I will arrive at m’Lady’s after dark, wearing my fuck-me boots and my use-me dress and my you-own-me collar and tag. I will arrive in a waft of my own arousal, wet with cunt juices and mouth juices, ready to drop to my knees in the hallway and worship at m’Lady’s crotch. I will orgasm as my owner slides eir cock into my mouth.
Tomorrow all my holes will be used and filled and fucked by m’Lady. Tomorrow my face will be slapped, over and over - something I have masturbated to the thought of for weeks.
Tomorrow will be intense. And tomorrow will be just the beginning.
Photographed by m’Lady during my last visit, a year ago.
Posted on | May 18, 2014 | 22 Comments
Content Notes: Feet; Needles; Blood
I do some pretty weird shit with my feet. I adore having them regularly beaten by Hylas (so much so that bastinado is a category all of its own), have had patterns scratched into them, and late last year had them set on fire.
But when I was at Kinky Camp over Easter, I tried something new. What was it that made me laugh like this?
Posted on | May 16, 2014 | No Comments
My semi-regular roundup of interesting reads, found from all over the place.
Content Notes: Disability; Grief
Know Me Where It Hurts: Sex, Kink, and Cerebral Palsy: “Old Pain I’m used to: the tightness in my hips when I don’t stretch in the morning, the pressure where my legs meet my back when I walk too far. It’s not that I don’t feel it; it’s just been there for so long that I know not to get nervous about it anymore. New Pain is where it gets scary because it stops having a name. I can’t immediately catalog it or diagnose it as benign. At best, disability allows you to create a tenuous peace with your body, and anytime it decides to violate that mutual agreement can be terrifying. You take the time to figure it out — what it likes and dislikes, where it functions best — and stick to that routine, until New Pain reminds you that you’re never quite going to have this figured out.” (Carrie / AutoStraddle)
Generation XXX: Why we’re afraid of internet porn: “When it comes to anyone or any body attempting to restrict our rights, Walden says the burden of proof always lies with those trying to restrict content, “not on those trying to exercise our rights”.” (Liat Clark / Wired.co.uk)
Women Who Have Rough Sex: Why It Can Be Liberating: “Of course, rough sex isn’t for everyone, but that doesn’t mean it should be taken off the table entirely or derided. Nothing is for everyone, after all, not even sex itself (just ask an asexual person). “I’m not always in the mood for it,” Kate attests. “And I would never be comfortable getting thrown around if it wasn’t my idea. I would certainly never advise someone to have rough sex if it didn’t genuinely turn them on. But I’m all for respecting an adult’s agency.”” (Anna Pulley / AlterNet)
Rituals, or, Why Poaching Elephants is so Awful: “Of even greater interest to the living elephant are the ivory tusks of their fallen bretheren, which are visible throughout the elephant’s life and perhaps recognizable after death. As they say, an elephant never forgets. Herds will even steal body parts or bones that poachers, tribesmen, or scientists have moved and return them to the place where the elephant died or bury them. Any way you look at it, they have some connection and relationship to the remains and bones of the deceased. To elephants, remains are, in a word, sacred. Elephants may not process religion or ritual in the exact way that humanity has come to define them, but there is nevertheless importance in the dead.” (Caitlin Doughty)
Pain: “But it’s not just pain I’m after. It’s what that pain comes with. It’s the dopamine surge, it’s the exquisite ability to come out of my own head, it’s the connection to another person and the way we have to open up to each other. Pain is a route to this, and to the bruises (which I love).” (Switch Studies)
JackPotMatt and Honey, photographed by HeatHawkkeep looking »