“Zen? Why would you want to believe in Zen? They don’t believe in anything!“- My stepmother, circa 1985 “Surprisingly, the height of both the arousal and the meditative state seemed to come for both the top and the bottom when the rope was coming off – that is, in the negative space that was being[…]
RACK, SSC, PRICK, YKINMKBYKIOK (that’s Your Kink Is Not My Kink But Your Kink Is O-K), WIIWD (What It Is We Do), there are so many clever acronyms and sayings we use in the community to try and make sure that everybody has a good time. My favorite, though, is simply this: Don’t Yuck My Yum.[…]
Pussy. Cunt. Vagina, if you want to sound like a 14 year old. “Gash” is simply rude, and any of the supposedly descriptive ones – hairy clam, for example – just seem at best ludicrous and at worst scary. If you use “vajayjay” I forbid you from reading this blog ever again. Seriously. Just leave.[…]
Tension is the love child of anticipation and uncertainty, those breathless moments just before lips meet for the first time, before hand meets skin in that first happy stinging slap, that moment of hesitation before the signature is finally put on the dotted line.
Seriously. Have you ever been with someone when they sign their first mortgage? That is the epitome of tension-release. It’s a high, it’s an endorphin rush, and it is inevitable that whatever relieves the tension – no matter how sweet and luscious – is not as much of a thrill as the tension itself. So we seek it, again and again.
In kink we have the advantage, because there’s always a new kind of tension: Will they ask me to play? Will he let me do that thing? Will they like my class? Will they read my blog? Will that feel the way I imagine it does when I’m masturbating furiously to the thought of it?
In rope bondage, however, tension has another meaning. Oh, sure, we get all the normal exciting bits, and I myself am guilty of artificially manipulating the pace of a tie to increase the “tension” of the scene.
I suppose I could have tried to come up with some clever reason not to have R stand for Rope, but it would be a bit disingenuous. Rope has been the vehicle through which I have traveled further than I ever thought possible, loved deeper than I ever knew possible, and benefited more than I ever[…]
@graydancer Why do you prefer PRICK over RACK? They’re both fun to say (but I like playing with one better). Nuance?— Roughinamorato (@Roughinamorato) April 19, 2013 Good question, Rough! And also, thanks for giving me something to say for “Q”, as I was almost driven to the last resort of “qlitoris”… The Problem with RACK[…]
Some BDSM folks will tell you Stay away from anyone who’s not SSC: Safe, Sane, and Consensual! They’ll claim anyone refusing to abide by those three cardinal rules is at best misguided and at worst predatory. Well, hi. I’m one of those people. For starters, the word safe is, at best, highly subjective. If you go by[…]
There has been a huge amount of debate over the female orgasm. Whereas men tend to have only one type, women’s climax comes in two different varieties: vaginal and clitoral. – “The Clitoral Truth”, Vivian Bailey It was about this point that I had to stop reading the book. I’m all in favor of the[…]
While this may seem like a pretty obvious and cheap way to fulfill the “sexy subject” challenge, it actually has some personal relevance. Not simply that I enjoy nipples – of all shapes, sizes, colors, textures, etc. I have fond memories of “Perky & Crinkles”, the pet names for a certain partner’s nipples.
I love playing with them for myself but derive much more joy from the stimulation it can give my partner. I’ve had an encounter or two where the person has basically shrugged their shoulders and said “Go to town…” while admitting that they didn’t actually derive much pleasure for themselves from any nipple stimulation. In those situations, I usually will simply forego the lovely little knobs and find out what she does enjoy.
There was one partner who had the most lovely nipples, but didn’t enjoy having them touched at all – “annoying” was, I believe, the term she used. However, we found a happy compromise – she loved having the rest of her breasts touched, stroked, suckled, etc. So as long as I was doing something to the rest of the happy globes, the nipples were enthusiastically invited to the party. In the words of a certain great rocker, “Now that’s fuckin’ teamwork!”
The Story of My Favorite Nipple
However, my favorite nipple story has to do with the framing of a certain nipple. Naiia, who has been a demo bottom for many a class, really pushed through her comfort zone at the Fetish Flea one year by volunteering to be a “human canvas” on which people would write words. These were words that, to her, implied beauty, and by having people write them on her body she was deliberately torturing herself.
Yes, that’s right. For Naiia, calling her a “cum-hungry round-heeled cock-gobbling trollop” will bring a happy grin to her face. Telling her that her “blue-gray eyes in the moonlight piercing through the long dark falls of her lustrous hair silhouetted against the night sky is love made liquid silver” would make her squirm, cringe, and try desperately to find a rock to hide under.
Twisted girl, that Naiia. That’s why I love her.