Latex – Page 9 – Femdom Resource

Any excuse for kink

I often enjoy getting annoyed at things I read. Which makes the internet pretty much the greatest invention ever. I’m never more than a few clicks away from something enjoyable.

50 Shades of Grey has been quite a blessing in that respect. It seems that no news or opinion site is complete without a regular article on the book and what it tells us about society (hint – nothing. The existence of Dan Brown had already proven that millions of people will buy badly written books). My ‘favorite’ article on the book so far is this one, which is so stupid you might actually getter dumber just by reading it. Apologies if you follow that link and then discover you can no longer complete a coherent thingy. You know. Lots of words all lined up.

The other common spin-off article, other than a review or social comment, is the “My hour/day/week as a dominatrix” confession. This typically gives the author a chance to titillate readers with some kinky fun, prove that she’s edgy and interesting, all while maintaining an air of superiority over the freaks. Here’s a pretty good canonical example of the genre.

These articles all follow a similar pattern. They start with “This’ll be fun! I get to boss men around. And I love dress-up!” Then they move into “Oh, there’s like all this equipment and stuff. This seems hard. Can’t I just look pretty and sneer at the clients?” After this comes the realization that not all men paying for a sexual experience look like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman. Finally, it ends with a “Wow, it’s not like I’m judging or anything, but people who see pro-dommes are weird.” That may or may not be true, but coming from a person who appears to have made a career choice on the basis of wearing a sexy costume, it’s a little hard to take seriously.

I’ll leave you with a picture of someone who can definitely pull off a sexy costume, but also knows it takes a hell of a lot more to be a great domme. This is Domina Nyx, a NYC based pro-domme. This shot was featured on her blog.

A fetish diversion

I’m not normally big on posting simple fetish shots. I appreciate an attractive latex or leather outfit, but I always treat them as a bonus to D/s or s&m play, not an end in their right own right.

One possible exception I’ll make for this is the Dutch model Ancilla Tilla. I’m not quite sure why, and what it is about her look that appeals, but something about her photographs always really grabs me. She often manages to pull off an elegant classical look, even when wearing some pretty fetishistic outfits. The fact she reminds me of a kinky Scarlett Johansson doesn’t hurt either.

Nice equipment

After a post featuring a lot of naked me, it seems only fair to provide a contrasting post. This one therefore features 0% scrawny naked English guys, but is 100% packed with hot dominant red headed women. I’m not sure if that’s constitutes a fair rate of exchange, but it’s the best I’ve got to offer.

On a personal note, I have to admit that my first thoughts on seeing this were not about the beautiful woman in the skintight catsuit. Instead they were more along the lines of “Wow, that’s a really cool bondage chair. I’d love to play with that.” I’m not sure if that means I’m turning into a BDSM equipment geek, or I’ve just seen too much femdom porn for my own good. Possibly both.

This is obviously a shot from Club Dom.

The joy of sucks

I got to play with a latex vacuum bed a few nights ago. For those of you who have never seen one of these interesting toys, it’s essentially a big sealed latex bag hooked up to a vacuum cleaner. The submissive lies in the bag and as the air is sucked out it seals around him or her, holding them tightly in place. If you’ve never seen one before then I’d suggest browsing this kink engineering page, which gives a pretty good overview.

This was actually my first time in a latex bed, but not my first time in a vacuum bed. Lady Lydia also owns a neoprene model, which is the same material they make wetsuits out of. We tried that late last year and it was a very different experience. The neoprene version is heavy and opaque, very claustrophobic, and the thick material grips tightly around the body. It’s an extremely intense sensation, high on adrenalin and low on relaxation.

In contrast I found the latex model a far more floaty and trippy experience. The latex was thinner and lighter, feeling more like a tight second skin than a sack of imprisonment. It also let some light through, making the world an abstract pale blur, rather than an inky pit. It very quickly put me into subspace, where time seems wonky and my conscious thought processes go on vacation somewhere outside my head. Of course being sealed away in a latex bag wasn’t going to stop Lydia having some fun, and she layered on sensations, using electrical shocks to the genitals and clips on various delicate bits of flesh. I quickly discovered that anything that hurts a little when first applied to my body inside the bag, will soon hurt a hell of a lot once the latex is squeezing tightly down against my skin. Electrical contacts are particularly ‘fun’ in this respect.

I had a hunt around for some good latex vacbed images to illustrate this post, but sadly couldn’t find anything. Everyone just ends up looking like a fetishistic version of Han Solo encased in carbonite. So instead I just decided to riff on the latex theme, and use these two latex heavy images from Jim Weathers bondage cafe (found on the Lipstick & Latex tumblr). The first shot has a little bit of a flirty teasing air to it, which creates a nice contrast to the second. That has much more of a sense of “What the hell!” and “You thought I was joking?” about it.

Love hurts good on a bed of nails

Here’s a very usual item of BDSM furniture – a bed of nails. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of these in a dungeon or studio space before. This particularly one is the property of Domina Liza, an English pro-domme. She’s shown in the third photograph below, looking particularly elegant and striking in her black latex catsuit. She also featured in an earlier post, back in 2010.

I’m kind of intrigued to know exactly how this would be used in a scene. I know the theory of a bed of nails is all about spreading the load across many points, ensuring no single one creates enough pressure to break the skin. So I guess it could be used in a type of predicament play. Once the submissive is resting on it start some tease & denial, CBT or NT and watch them try not to squirm. Any excessive movement would presumably create an unbalanced load and increase the pain from the nails. I also image it’s quite psychologically powerful, given how fearsome it looks. Not sure if careful trampling would be possible, but what a headtrip if it was!

$Domina Liza in latex$

If you’d like the chance to try it out for yourself then Domina Liza is based in Derby, England and her contact information is here. It looks like she has a beautiful studio space, and if I still lived in the UK I’d have loved to have the chance to session there with her.

A delightfully devious device

This looks like a particularly exciting device for nipple torture. I think it’s called a nipple tree. There’s a name which conjures up a fairly weird mental image. I’ve seen them used before, but this is by far the prettiest, with its chrome and perspex design. I imagine it must ideal for very carefully inflicting just the perfect amount of pain via the clover clamps.

As for the mistress in these shots, I could swear I know who it is, but I just can’t connect the face to a name. It’s driving me slightly nuts, and reverse image searching hasn’t helped. So if you can help me attribute correctly then please leave me a comment with the lady’s name.

Updated: Thanks to a comment by Downlow I’ve finally identified the mistress as the talented Dante Posh. She’s a NYC/NJ based pro-domme, although she also travels extensively. I believe this is from a scene she shot for the English Mansion.

I found these two images on the appropriately named Tortured Nipples Tumblr.

A helping hand

I like this picture for a kind of odd reason. It’s not the beautiful mistress, although that’s certainly a bonus. It’s not the latex outfit or boots, although I am partial to an authoritarian uniform. No, what appeals to me is the fact that he’s holding the rope for her. I’m not sure if he’s trying to untangle it or just make it easily available, but I do like that he’s helping out.

When I used to just fantasize about BDSM, I was always attracted to the idea of forceful control. Not non-consensual play, but not quite fully consensual either. I never really enjoyed corporal punishment movies if it looked like the guy could simply stand up and walk-away. It didn’t make sense to me. Why would a more powerful man put up with being beaten unless he was held in place? How would he be able to stop himself resisting?

Now that I’ve got a little experience under my belt, I finally get it. In fact these days I love being a partial architect in my own demise. It’s fun to give up control a little piece at a time. To position myself as I’m asked. To hold the instruments of torture. To accept the gag or the hood. To push my back out towards the swinging whip. Each little helpful action is a pleasurable reaffirmation of the D/s dynamic between the mistress and myself.

This is Domina Sreni, a pro-domme based in Milan. If you are lucky enough to live in the that part of the world and wish to pay her a visit, her contact page is here.

Evil Twin

This image made me laugh. I don’t think it’s at all hot, but it does make me smile. I’m not sure if that’s because of his glare at the camera, his package peaking out like a swollen sausage or his evil twin (from an alternate universe) beard. She’s also contributing a jaunty sailor salute to the humorous ensemble. On the plus side, she does at least have the figure to pull off that tight latex number (although silly boots in my opinion).

I found this on the In a Humbler tumblr site.

Guilt. Loathing. Anger. Shame. Sickness.

I enjoy getting annoyed at an article or book occasionally. Gesticulating in the direction of the screen and muttering “What the fuck is this guy thinking?” can be cathartic. Fortunately for me, thanks to the Internet, there’s an inexhaustible supply of such articles close at hand.

The latest one to trigger my WTF reaction was one in GQ on hard core pornography and the authors reaction to it. The post title gives a little hint as to what that reaction might be. Or maybe this little snippet, when he’s talking about Max Hardcore.

I needed to know we were different. I needed to know I wasn’t him. I needed to know that whatever the hell was wrong with me was not as bad as whatever the hell was wrong with him.

A couple of thousand miles, I decided, wasn’t too far to go to find someone I hated more than myself.

….[ then immediately after talking to Max ]….

It had been over two hours. I didn’t hate him nearly enough. And it made me hate myself even more.

As far as cathartic emotions goes, this article was pretty successful. I managed to get annoyed, bemused, puzzled and incredulous all in the space of four pages.

I read a wide variety of kink and sex blogs, with all sorts of wild behavior in them. There are people getting whipped, trampled, cuckolded, spanked, diapered, caged, stabbed, burnt and pissed on. Yet somehow they all seem more emotionally healthy than this ‘normal’ guy. Guilt and self-loathing must be horrible emotions to have to live with.

For an accompanying image I tried to find something that I felt guilty about liking. It wasn’t easy. There’s all sorts of freaky stuff I like, but I don’t feel guilty about any of it. Finally I settled on this image. It’s completely ridiculous. There’s a cliched classroom setting, a pastiche of a school mistress outfit in latex and a woman posing as a student in latex underwear. But for some reason I think it’s kind of cute.

Image is from the Captive Culture site.

It was a dark and stormy night…

Thumper made a comment in a recent post that struck a chord with me.

It’s interesting to me that I can post pictures of my junk online but writing down my fantasies like this makes me feel more vulnerable and nervous. I guess that’s because it’s a peek into my head while all the HNT in the world doesn’t give you much more than a surface view.
Thumper

I’ve posted a fair number of onlink junks shots (purely as an educational resource of course), along with shots of naked me in sessions, but publishing my erotic fiction always creates a far greater feeling of vulnerability. Even commenting on my fantasies in blog posts, or saying what I like about certain images, seems far safer then crafting fictional porn. Of course there’s the natural fear of failure and ridicule that comes with any public creative endeavour. But on top of this I think erotic writing has its own particular issues.

For one thing, I give up any plausible deniability. A reposted image or a blog comment can easily be written off. I can just claim it was interesting rather than personally exciting, or I posted it because it was weird and made me laugh, or it raised important questions. There’s no chance of that with a carefully crafted ten thousand word short story. Everyone knows I spent hours writing, editing and proof-reading it. Every paragraph is there because I want it there. It’s impossible to distance myself from the ideas it contains.

Writing also gives immense power. Photographs of me in a session are constrained by physical, legal and moral laws. I know I’m publishing something that thousands of people have described and attested to before me. There’s safety in those numbers. As a writer I stand alone. I don’t have to limit myself to any particular physical or moral constraints. I can create something uniquely depraved if I wish, and I’ll have no one to share the stage or the blame with.

Finally, I think there’s often an implicit chain of reasoning that runs as follows. An erotic story is designed to excite and arouse people. The author based their ideas on what excited him or her. People like to do what excites them. Therefore the author wants to do whatever is written in the story. Nobody thinks Stephen King wants to dress up as a clown and lurk in sewers threatening children. Or that he’d really enjoy going insane in a deserted hotel. But throw a sex scene into a book and it’s impossible not to start wondering what it reflects about the author and their particular sexual quirks. Where do they draw the lines between their achievable, unachievable and undesirable fantasys?

Some of the things I’ve written or enjoyed reading would be truly horrendous in real life. In some cases I wouldn’t even want to see them filmed or photographed Hollywood (i.e. fake) style. They work in the abstract. They distill out the nasty underlying emotions into sexual heroin for my reptilian id. They’re like a sexual horror movie, drawing on primitive responses to short circuit the intellectual bit of my brain.

There’s really no blog post or picture I’ve published that I look back on and regret. I can’t say all of them were successful, but there’s none I sometimes wish I could take back. I’m not sure I could honestly say the same thing for the very limited amount of fiction I’ve written.

I’m afraid I can’t think of any particularly appropriate image that would go along with this post, so here’s a very attractive lady in latex. You’re welcome.

$Woman in latex catsuit$ I found this on the Stuff I Like tumblr site.