Tag: Photograph

Flicking

Flicking is one of those things that seems like a pretty mild sensation but can actually build to something really intense.The trick is not to aim for a single strong flick, but use a repeated series of flicks to the same spot. The exact periodicity or rhythm doesn’t matter, you just want to get a small group of nerves constantly singing.

From a psychological perspective it’s a bit like an itch or someone constantly poking you. After a bit you just want to yell ‘Goddamn it! Stop that.’ From a physical perspective focusing in one spot can really exaggerate the sensation. I’m not sure what the underlying mechanism in the nervous system is, but it seems to be a cumulative one, where the pain gradually builds. This is particularly the case when the spot is a sensitive one to start with.

FlickingI’m afraid I don’t know the source of this image, although if I had to guess, I’d say it was one of the kink.com sites. I found it on the Please Take My Control tumblr.

Updated: Thanks to a very helpful comment from François I can confirm it’s a kink image, specifically from Men In Pain and features Miss Brooke and Andy Mann.

A moment of self-reflection

There are times when I find my sexuality odd. Just occasionally I take a step back and go ‘Wow. You’re really strange.’ I suspect if most of my friends read this blog they’d agree with that assessment. They’d look at at posts about piecing, whipping, pegging or piss drinking and think ‘Yes. You’re pretty damn strange’. Yet for me the strangeness doesn’t correlate with that type of activity. Kinky freaky stuff is just kinky, freaky and fun. Nothing strange about that. What I find strange is the odd reaction I have to some less obviously kinky material.

Take for example the image below. I’m not into horses, boots, humiliation or mistress/servant roleplay. Yet there’s something about the look on her face that pushes buttons deep in my brain. I’ve absolutely no idea why, but for me this is probably the sexiest image I’ve featured in months. I can understand when someone gets hot and bothered over a lady in a skintight catsuit branding a whip. People are supposed to be excited by that. But why does a haughty backward glance in a poor quality photograph leave me feeling distinctly tight in the trouser region? As I said, strange.

TheLook

Famous idiots

Hollywood celebrities have been making themselves look foolish in the press again this week. That’s not really an unusual state of affairs, although this time the subject matter is a bit more serious than a badly chosen dress or getting drunk and punching a photographer.

Amnesty International just voted to support the decriminalization of sex work. They did this despite a number of celebrities kicking up a fuss in the press. Famous names such as Meryl Streep, Kate Winslet, Emma Thompson, Lena Dunham and Anne Hathaway were all opposed. So on one side we have a global organization that has spent years studying the issue and helping people affected by it. On the other we have a bunch of actors whose qualifications include looking good and delivering scripted lines in a believable manner. Those are handy attributes to have, but I’m not sure they really qualify you to lead the debate on this issue.

I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised. After all, I’ve vented on celebrity idiocy in the past. I just wished they’d stick to selling silly diet books or crazy religions, rather than sticking their nose into policies than can have life or death implications.

While Ms Hathaway may be abusing the power of her celebrity, I will admit she does look good as catwoman. The movie may have sucked, but she was one of the (rare) highlights

Catwoman

6 Colors or 7 Colours?

Interesting cultural difference of the day: British rainbows are more colourful than American ones. It seems there are only 6 colors in the new world rainbows, where good traditional British ones have 7 – Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo and Violet. There’s even a rhyme that British children use to help remember them – Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain. Richard in this case being Richard III, the last Plantagenet king of England. When I mentioned this to my American friends the general response was “What the hell is this Indigo bullshit?” Despite moving here 15 years ago I only just discovered how shabbily Indigo is treated here. That discovery is another thing to thank pride week for.

I mention all this random nonsense because of this colorful new chastity toy, which clearly follows the American convention for colors. The British one would obviously be just that bit longer. It’s nice to see a BDSM toy that isn’t in the usual shades of black, red and chrome. Kink is often fun and why not use a cheerful toy that can put a smile on your face?

The device worn below is in the more traditional design. It still seems to be putting a smile on his face however.

Gates Of Hell deviceI’m afraid I don’t know where this photograph is from.

Horsey

I typically do a reverse image search for most of the pictures I post in an effort to trace the original creator. While the success rate of that is erratic, it will consistently find me a bunch of femdom tumblrs and pinterest sites that have already featured the picture. When it came to the example below, I was amused to also stumble on a bunch of sites from female horse riders. Clearly the idea was not unappealing to them.

Several had posted it with the comment – ‘Where can I find a mounting block like that?’ I think I can safely say that if you attend a munch or play party and mention you possess jodhpurs, riding boots and crop there should be no problem finding willing volunteers.

Mounting a HorseSadly, despite my image searching, I’ve still no idea who originally created this image.

Update: Thanks to a helpful comment from François I can now attribute this image to Belgian photographer Kurt Stallaert. You can see more from him here.

The end

I played with Lydia for the final time last night. Unless she’s going to retire in the manner of a 70’s rockstar, with endless comeback tours, I’m going to have to adapt to life without her.

Our sessions are usually intense, but this last one was particularly so. Layering sensations is traditionally a big part of our play. Last night in the space of about 30 seconds I was screaming in pain, struggling for oxygen, moaning in orgasm, laughing in relief and crying at the finality of it. Being sweaty, sticky and teary makes for an interesting post session clean up.

She has left me with a lot of memories. I remember her look of concentration when trying to get a needle in just the right place. I remember her professionalism. In hundreds of sessions she was always on time, always prepared and never ever cut corners. I remember her gleeful sadism. She could always channel her inner child playground bully to magical effect. I remember her imagination. Elaborate bondage or interesting predicaments were often the result of ideas she’d dreamed up days earlier. I remember her creativity and the great dynamic we shared. Most of all I remember her laughter. We laughed often together, but the commonest reason for her was my growling or snarling at some particularly sadistic thing she’d done. I might scream or moan in the really intense parts, but it was afterwards, in the quieter moments, that a pinch or a squeeze could trigger a growl from me and a happy laugh from her. I’ll miss that most of all.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to curl up on the couch with several stiff drinks and binge watch Buffy Season 2. I feel in the mood for some teenage angst and heartbreak featuring vampires. I’ll leave you with an image of Lydia very much as I remember her. That’s obviously not me with her in the photograph, but it does show her smile and the kind of play we so often enjoyed together.

LydiaSmiling

One careful kinky owner

I received an email the other day asking advice on selling bondage furniture. Somebody had a large item they wanted to sell and wasn’t sure where to do so. They didn’t think eBay or Craigslist were suitable. I’ve never actually faced this problem so I couldn’t help. Instead I thought I’d throw the problem to my readers. Where do people sell BDSM furniture? Do the standard sites deal OK with kinky items? Are there any specialized alternatives? Feel free to leave a comment if you’ve experience in this area.

For an image I thought I’d feature a scene with an amazing amount of fancy equipment. This looks like a kinky mad scientist raided a 50’s film set and a modern fetish store. Judging by the white plastic chair, a garden supply store also featured in the shopping spree. The lovely lady is Mistress Eleise De Lacy from the Femme Fatale Films site.

Extreme Femdom Bondage

Keep it down in there

Stories about noisy kinksters scaring the neighbors and getting a visit from the local authorities are not uncommon. I featured the story of Mistress Evilyne and her nosy neighbors a few posts back. The latest example is this story from Germany featuring a vocal kinky couple. I’m not sure whether to be impressed or scared that the police had to force the door down to get their attention.

This kind of thing might seem amusing, but it can have very significant consequences. In many US states, including mine, the police have a mandatory arrest law for domestic violence. What this means is that the police will always arrest someone if they believe there is probably cause that any kind of domestic violence occurred in the last few hours. It doesn’t matter what the ‘victim’ says or what the context was – somebody is going away in the back of the police car. The word of a neighbor, marks on a body or just an anonymous report of suspected violence is enough to get you arrested with no discretion allowed.

I understand the rational behind the law. A genuine victim of domestic violence needs the opportunity to escape from his or her abuser. They might not feel able to speak up until they’ve been separated. Yet for kinksters it can have serious consequences. It’s one thing to have your friends and neighbors know you’re kinky. Quite another to have them think you’re a domestic abuser after seeing you taken away in a police car.

I actually know (indirectly) of a Seattle couple this happened to. They thought their playroom was more soundproof than it actually was. The end result was not only an arrest after the neighbors reported the noise, but a full blown court case featuring their friends called as witnesses. It didn’t matter that the submissive repeatedly told everyone it was consensual activity. Justice is not only blind, but also slow and frequently stupid.

WhipMarksI’m not sure who these lovely whip marks belong to, but I hope they were inflicted in a soundproof space. They look like they’d have resulted in some serious screaming.