AIG Creeps Get Bonuses

Let's hope that the money ends up in the right places...

The Small World Club

It's no secret that the Internet is making the world a very tiny place at times.

Recently, I've had a few occasions to cross paths with people in my "fetish life" -- "Porno Person" side of my life -- that I had never expected to see there. It's like laying in the gutter and finding someone you know beside you.

Per my posting of the other day -- "Be My Friend" -- I've been spending a lot of time on Fetlife.com and MySpace.com lately. MySpace is fairly dead but it's still nice to go poking around and seeing who's online in my local community. It was from popping from one profile to another via friends that I happened to run into a familiar face, someone I went to high school with. We didn't necessarily hang out in the same circle of friends but I knew her nonetheless and it was really nice to see that I wasn't the only one from my home town that grew up into a "pervert."

Meanwhile, Fetlife has proven to be a great site with lots of interesting and relavant discussions. Oddly enough, when I tried to register with it recently it told me that my handle was already being used. "What's this? How could someone else be slaveboy72?" Then, on a whim, I tried my usual password with that username and -- voila -- I was in. I had registered for Fetlife.com when it was in its infancy and had forgotten. I went there years ago when I heard that one of my co-workers had started up "some fetish site." Luckily for him, he's done a hell of a job with it and it's turned into something valuable to him and to the community.

Thus the question becomes... Do I talk to these people? Do I acknowledge them at all? I try to keep this side of myself locked away in a little box, like Dr. Jeckyl trying to suppress his Mr. Hyde. By speaking up, I'm putting Hyde out into the light, albeit little by little.

The answer in this case becomes "yes." I said my greetings. What happens next? I'm not sure. If this were a Penthouse Variations story, I'd be blackmailed and on my knees in front of either one of them in no time flat. Luckily (or not), that's not the case. "I never thought it would happen to me..."

Why don't I embrace this part of my life and separate it out with a pseudonym and a thin barrier of attempted anonymity? Probably because of my past and how chastened I was by my ex-wife and ex-therapist about my "proclivities." Also, no matter how much people may hope that BDSM is becoming more mainstream, it's still a sore subject amongst many. Hell, even within the community there are several hot buttons that can be pushed (see my earlier post regarding discrimination).

By the way, I don't have delusions of grandeur. I'm not under the impression that anyone reads this blog or cares about what I say here. I'm just aware that it's better and safer to only allow a select few to know about this side of me. When I write here, I'm okay with those people reading what I write and knowing "too much" about me. I've been diving deeper than I usually do lately and I'm okay with that, as long as I can maintain the self-delusion of being just another anonymous jerk blogging into the ether.

Got Milk?

Mother's Milk

I was looking at a posting from YourTango.com asking for people to tell their "Fetish story" and I thought, "Oh, I wonder if they'd be interested in mine...". Digging through this site, I thought for sure I must have written reams about my early fetish days. No, not so much.

---

When people ask me how long I've been submissive I always answer, "For as long as I can remember." I didn't actually know the terminology for what I was until I was 18. Before that, I just knew that I was different in some way, I just couldn't put my finger on it.

When I was a pre-teen I was inordinately infatuated with Cat Woman (the Julie Newmar incarnation) from Batman. I recall her tying up Batman and Robin with a Gordian knot and this stayed in my head for a long time. There was also a superhero made completely out of rope--the appropriately-named "Rope Man" from Ralph Bakshi's Mighty Heroes--who used to interest me.

Mighty Heroes also included the character of "Baby Man"; a tyke in a cape who was always suckling at his bottle. Though a toddler, he was still wise beyond his years. Something about him sparked my imagination, making me wonder what it would be like to be treated like an infant at an older age. Likewise, there was some television show or film where characters were age-regressed back to an infantile state. This seemed like both a devious punishment and a blessing as I was completely obsessed with breasts.

Those lovely protuberances were my first fetish object. I loved looking at breasts. Big ones, little ones, it didn't matter. I was always hungry for more. I think this thirst came from my need for nourishment; emotionally and physically. I wasn't breast fed as a baby and the idea that breasts could provide both something aesthetically pleasing as well as tummy-filling blew my mind.

My mind kept going to the idea of being reduced from my pre-teen self to a baby where I was completely dependent on a strong woman who would make me do what she wanted and who would feed me via her breasts. Not knowing much better, I thought that this would be wholly sexually gratifying to the woman. My suckling would be her pleasure.

Quickly this fantasy morphed into something where the breast milk itself brought about the transformation. This meant that I would be essentially seduced, feed, and changed, becoming increasingly reliant on the woman. And, eventually, the "magic breast milk" idea changed again to have different powers; different depending on the woman. Yes, this meant that I was fantasizing about multiple females, all in charge of me. I would be passed around from one to another, helpless.

These thoughts stayed with me until I started puberty and realized that, along with my own blossoming sexual organs, that women had things going on below the waist. Thus began my love affair with pussy and my burgeoning sexual fantasy life. I didn't think about infantalism again but I still entertained the idea of being helpless and being used by several women, almost like a commodity. I would while away the afternoons, flogging my "newfound" penis and imagining being traded amongst the women that lived on my block.

In the years afterwards, I didn't go back to the idea of being a baby again. I love Mommy/son roleplaying but don't necessarily engage in any kind of "age regression." Still, I never lost the lust for being used for pleasure and, in exchange, being taken care of. And, when it comes down to it, that's what my entire attitude of submission amounts to.

---

<panting> Whew. That was the first time I thought about some of those things since they were originally on my mind. I've discussed my love of Cat Woman and Mighty Heroes before but I'd put the whole infantalism safely away in a back closet. Even back then one can see my love of science fiction coming through with the different "formulas" for different effects. Kind of like the various forms of Kryptonite that cripple Superman.

BTW, it would be decades before I finally got my first taste of breast milk. You can read about that here.

Double Play

I was recently asked to write out my perfect evening of servitude to a Dom male if I had a "subbie magic wand" and could make my wish come true. I suppose it would go something like this. Not the "be-all, end-all" scenario by any means but this is what I see as a "typical" session.

I enter their home. They're James and Margaret but I know them better as Master and Mistress, Sir and Madam or, on occasion, Daddy and Mommy. It depends what mood they're in. I fit myself to them. I try my best to be whatever they need me to be. By being there for them, I attain satisfaction, completion. I'm like a lock without a key until I see them, until they fit their key into me.

There's no conversation tonight. No wine. No. Instead, they direct me to the basement where they have their equipment. I know what I'm to do. I kneel in my spot and wait for them. It's not long before I hear the clack of Her heels on the stairs followed by the dull thud of His boots. They approach me and I keep my eyes down.

"Stand up," he says. I do, keeping my eyes down.

He comes to me and begins unbuttoning my shirt. He throws it aside and begins on my pants. I came here with one instruction and he sees that I fulfilled it as he takes down my jeans.

"Oh, look what we have here," he says, laughing. "Look at what this little sissy is wearing." He says "sissy" with such derision that I shudder.

She steps to me and snaps the elastic of my pink lacy panties. They're the pair we picked out the month before on one of our shopping excursions but she plays tonight that she's never seen them.

"Oh, my. I thought you picked out a boy to play with, not a little girl," she sighs, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "Oh, well, she'll have to do."

With that, she grabs one of my wrists and lifts my arm high, shackling it above me with the cuffs hanging from the ceiling. She shackles the other one, leaving me helpless. Meanwhile, he puts two cuffs around my knees and attaches a spreader bar between them, pushing my legs wide and increasing the pressure above on my arms. Despite myself, my cock begins to get hard in my panties, thrilled at being exposed and bound.

He sees the bulge in my panties and puts his hand over it, standing in front of me, smiling. He massages me through the satin, watching the lust in my eyes, seeing me lose even more control. My knees lose their strength as the blood continues to rush to my member. He knows what he's doing to me and it makes him smile even more broadly. My mouth is open and I'm panting for breath. "Oh yes," he whispers, "You like this, don't you little girl?"

I nod.

He stops.

"This isn't about what you like," he says, turning away.

I feel her hands yank down my panties, down to my mid-thighs. And, without warning, I feel the sharp sting of a smack on my bottom, followed by a flurry of others. I gasp, going from such pleasure to pain within moments. Now I'm gasping instead of panting.

She stops for a moment and allows me to catch my breath. She reaches around to feel my cock. It's gone flaccid. "Yes," she hisses. "That's right." She begins spanking me again, more rhythmically this time; one cheek and then the other. I feel the heat rising on my asscheeks and I picture them getting redder, picture the imprint of her hands on me.

He steps back to me and begins touching my nipples, running his fingers around the aureole. He knows how sensitive I am there and sees them getting harder. He pinches them, gently at first, and then harder. This is like metal in a microwave, throwing sparks in my head. The pain in my bottom, the pleasure/pain from my nipples, making my mind twist.

She stops spanking me, reaches between my legs, and grasps my balls. She attaches something to them and I feel a tremendous pulling on them. I realize that she has added weights to my balls. It's not necessarily pure pain that I feel but, rather, a stomach-churning discomfort.

Added quickly to this new mix of sensations is her finger, greased and plumbing my ass. "Oh," she says, "this girl's pussy is so tight."

One finger quickly becomes two, and then three, and I feel as if she's tearing me open. All the while he keeps tweaking my nipples, making my cock get hard again, despite the discomfort, if not all out pain, I was in.

She pulls out of me and I moan out of frustration, wanting her in me. I hear the snap of her rubber glove coming off and disappointment washes over me. She undoes my shackles and my arms flop to my side. She undoes my spreader bar and whispers into my ear, "Kneel."

On my knees, steps closer and I rub my head against his crotch like a cat. I feel his manhood beneath my cheek, the heat of it, the shape of it. He runs his hands over my head. Usually he's the tougher of the pair but tonight he's good cop. He's allowing me to feel special, to be his little girl.

"Tell me what you want," he says.

"I want to please you, Sir."

"How?"

"Any way you see fit, Sir."

"Don't be coy, slut. I'm going to ask you again. Tell me what you want."

I whine. Though I've asked for this a hundred times, I still feel funny somewhere deep inside when I do. "I want to suck your cock, Sir."

"Good girl," he says, undoing his belt buckle. "Go on, take it out. Show me how eager you are, you little cocksucker."

I undid the button and zipper to his pants as fast as I could, hungry for his cock. Opening up his pants I saw that he was without underwear underneath. This made it easier to pull out his hard cock and hold it in my hands before looking up at him and asking, "May I suck you, Sir?"

"No, girl. Show me how much you want it."

I began rubbing his cock over my face, my cheeks, my lips, nuzzling it with my nose. I wanted him, all right. I wanted to inhale him. I wanted to feel his hardness in me. I massaged his balls, cupping them gently, while mine still ached from the weight.

"Suck it, sissy," he said, finally, and I took him painfully slow into my mouth, enjoying every millimeter of his length as it ran over my lips and tongue. I got him as deep as I could and felt a hand on the back of my head pushing me forward, taking more of him in.

"You can do better than that," came her voice from behind me. I held him in my mouth as long as I could. I began to pull back and felt I could only go so far until my head was blocked by her crotch. She allowed me just a few inches that I could move back before moving forward again.

In and out, I took him. When my head went back against her, I felt her push me forward. In essence, she was fucking him with my mouth. She began moving closer, pushing me faster. I could hear them kissing above me and began to feel the swing of his balls into my chin. They were getting tighter and his thrusts into me became harder. Before I knew it, he was cumming in my mouth and I was thirstily swallowing his load.

He removed his cock from my mouth and wiped it against my face before I felt her pull me down onto the ground before mounting my face, grinding her pussy against my mouth. I relished her scent and taste as my tongue lapped against her clitoris until she had a wondrous, shuddering orgasm.

She moved next to me and he kneeled on the other side. Surrounded by them, they took me in their hands and began masturbating me, telling me what a good little sissy I am and that I know well how to please them. He removed the weights from me and massaged my balls, feeling how tight they were, while she put the index finger from her left hand in my mouth, allowing me to suckle it while they brought me to orgasm.

They cleaned me up, had me get dressed again (in a fresh pair of panties), and sent me on my way. A typical night with James and Margaret.

Don't Know About Art

But I like this for some reason.

Discrimination

When it comes to serving, I've run into four roadblocks that just don't seem like they should be bad things at all.

1. Bisexuality - Being a bi male is a major turn off for some women (just as it's a major turn on for others). I'm not exactly sure why, other than it seems that some women feel that bi men are unsafe, not masculine, or just unsavory overall. I've never been given a really clear explanation, just a cold shoulder once this comes out. It's enough to make me want to hide this, but I don't.

2. Feminization - Even if it's not my "bread and butter," it still just turns some men and women off that I've ever worn panties in my life. This just pushes a button labelled "STOP" when I talk to them. Once they know I've been feminized they don't want to talk anymore. Again, this seems to talk to the "not a real man" idea. Apparently it's okay to be treated like a footstool or ashtray by some people, but not while wearing panties.

3. Switching - Again, straddling a middle line seems to put some people off. This goes for both Dommes and subs. Somehow, having had experience on both ends of the whip puts some people off. To me, it makes my experience richer. To others, I'm indecisive and likely to "top from the bottom" or "bottom from the top". I know my place when it comes to a scene and don't switch in the middle of things but that's just not good enough for some people who feel that once you're on one side of the D/s divide, you should never cross over that big slash.

4. Friendliness - Believe it or not but I've been told on a few occasions that I'm "too friendly to top" -- as if guys need to be a little bit of a jerk to be a "challenge". I honestly don't think that "friendly" in this sense should be taken to mean "creepily stalkerish". I just don't think that's me.

I suppose that "friendly" can be substituted with "agreeable" and one might get closer to the heart of the issue. I enjoy D/s and open myself to new challenges as much as I can. This gives me kind of a carefree attitude. Additionally, I talk to people like they were human beings -- trying to stand on even ground before the power exchange begins. By doing so, I seem to make friends more than making Dom/me or sub relationships. It's a very strange thing to be called "too friendly."

Open Up And Say, "Ahhh."

Freedom is Slavery Plugged in Pleasurists #19

Image by GuilleDes used under a Creative Commons License

Pleasurists is your round-up of the adult product reviews that came out in the last seven days from bloggers all around the sex blogosphere. Did you miss Pleasurists #18? Read it all here. Do you have a review for Pleasurists #20? Submit it here before Sunday March 15th at 11:59pm PST. Please re-post this list on your own blog if listed.

Want to win some free swag? All you’ve got to do is enter.

• Economy got you down? Closes at 150 comments.
• Pure Romance Contest Deadline: March 18th, 11:59pm.
• Win a Babeland Gift Card Deadline: Saturday, March 14th.
• Win a $20 Gift Card to Babeland! Deadline: March 28th 2009.
• Pleasurists Contest: LELO Toy Giveaway! Deadline: Friday April 10th at 11:59pm PST.

On to the reviews…

Editor’s Pick

• Pearl Cuffs by CarrieAnn

The second I saw them a fantasy bloomed, large and dark, in the recesses of my mind.

I had images of formalwear and candlelight, gourmet meals and decadent desserts. A meal served silently, these dainty pearl cuffs binding my wrists. Images of kneeling at his feet, being hand fed bits of his meal and sips of his wine - the pearl cuffs wrapping my wrists, hands helplessly still in my lap.

Madame Editrix
Scarlet Lotus Sexgeek

Vibrators

• Seduction by Evolved by Toygirl
• Symphony G-Harmony by Adriana
• LELO Elise by Beautiful Dreamer
• Sweet Spot by Vibratex by Sleeping Dreamer
• Laya Spot by HotMoviesForHer Sex Toy Crew
• Onye by Dangerous Lilly
• Hitachi Magic Wand by Domina Doll on Viviane’s Sex Carnival
• Tera Patrick’s Meta Jelly Heart-On Vibe by Adriana
• We-Vibe by Beautiful Dreamer
• Ducky by Domina Doll
• Fun Factory Twister by Epiphora

Dildos

• Brando by Scarlet Lotus Sexgeek
• Share XL by Ansley Agnello
• Curved Purple Swirl by Jezebelle
• Raquel by Ansley Agnello
• Johnny by HotMoviesForHer Sex Toy Crew
• Cyberglass Snake of Paradise by Bad Bad Girl
• Curved Purple Swirl by Ansley Agnello

Anal Toys

• Bloomy by Marla Singer
• Bloomy by Alpine Subdreams

Toys for Cocks

• Monkey Spanker by Sleeping Dreamer

Lube/Massage Oil/Bath Stuff

• Intimo Massage Oil by Thursday’s Child
• Wet Aromatherapy Oil and Wet Pheromone by Alpine Subdreams

BDSM/Fetish

• Leather Hogtie by Scarlet Lotus Sexgeek
• Purple Beaded Nipple Clamps by Eliot Bodem
• Bondage Tape by Vixen
• Black Latex Body Paint by Essin’ Em

Adult Books/Games

• Freedom is Slavery by Sommer Marsden
• Make Your Own Sex Toys by Curvaceous Dee

Adult Movies/Porn

• Superfreak by J.D. Bauchery
• Crash Pad Series - Episode 2: Johnny & Trouble by The Porn Librarian
• The New Romantix by Carnivalesq
• Hot Girls on Skates by Bad Bad Girl
• G-Spot by FrzKey
• Morphine by J.D. Bauchery
• Leather Sessions by The Porn Librarian

Storage

• FYN Adult Toychest by Thursday’s Child
• FYN Adult Toybox XL by Bad Bad Girl
• FYN Big Foot Case by Epiphora

Miscellaneous

• Amazing Hot Heart Massager by Scarlet Lotus Sexgeek
• Sex Clean Toy Cleaner by Thursday’s Child
• Fun Factory Teneo Uno by Sexorcism
• Kama Sutra Intensifying Gel (Warming) by Wilhelmina
• Edible Pasties by Coy Pink

X-Dressing History

I've done a pretty good job of blocking out a lot of my cross-dressing history.

Like many things in my life, I tend to only remember the most embarassing or awkward moments...

I was 18 and having a graduation party. One of the guests left her bathing suit in the downstairs bathroom. (Just because it's so improbable, I'll announce that her name was Candi. No, I kid you not. Remarkably, she didn't become a stripper, though she had the body for it.) I don't know what possessed me but I put on the still-damp suit, squeezing myself into it. Seeing myself in her garment really turned me on, especially the way it conformed to my crotch and emphasized my now-hard cock. So, yes, I masturbated; rubbing myself through the stretchy bathing suit material. Afterwards, I washed and dried her suit for her and gave it back the next time I saw her. I don't know why but I always liked knowing that she wasn't aware of what I did in her clothes...

While visiting a friend in West Virgina, I spotted her panties in the bathroom and stole them. I'd heard that female genitals have a nice scent and had never smelled it before (I was 19). I stuffed them in my pocket, transferred them to my bag, and waited until I got home to partake in her odor. It was strong but, damn, it was nice. Later I'd find myself wrapping those panties around my penis as I'd masturbate and, eventually, I put them on to see what they felt like. These weren't any kind of "sexy, dainty" underthings. They were the white cotton variety that Elvis liked.

Somehow I came into possession of one of my co-worker's brassieres. I think it was during a party in which there was a lot of drinking. Again, this was around the time I was 19. The bra didn't do much for me, sexually, though I did try it on once and masturbate while it was draped across my chest (she was far smaller than me and I couldn't have put it on if I tried). I seem to remember falling asleep while this was on and my step-father waking me up the next morning. Pretty darn sure he saw me with it on but he never said anything. The man barely talked to me, ever. I'm sure this was just one more black mark against me.

Otherwise, I stayed fairly clear of cross-dressing for many years. I always enjoyed the transformation stories I read in different dirty magazines but it would be years before I'd be dolled up. I'm still interested in feminization but it just doesn't happen as often as I'd like.

"Open Marriage"? Not Quite.

I used to say that I had an "open marriage" but I really need to stop that.

I met my current wife via Yahoo Personals (back when they were free). She was a Domme advertising for subs. We met for dinner and, rather than doing any D/s, she said that we should be on equal ground to begin. This sounded good and that set the tone of our relationship from that first time together.

We played... a bit... over our first couple years together. Unfortunately, I found it really hard to submit to her. I had been in a completely uneven relationship and giving up power to someone I wanted to respect me and treat me right just wasn't in the cards. Moreover, I just wasn't a fan of her style of Domination. She was really into tying me up and leaving. I'm not not into abandonment. If anything, I need to be coddled and talked to the entire session. Being left isn't a thrill. It pisses me off.

In short, it was a bit of a disaster.

As I was seeing someone else at this time, it was decided that I would sub to this other person while my girlfriend (soon to be fiance) would have submissives over on occasion. This became our "Wednesday Night Thing." I'd drive over to my Domme while she'd have subbies in. I'd come home around 10 o'clock and we'd be good.

After I broke up with my Domme, the subbies kept coming over so I'd stay out on Wednedsay night. Eventually, those subbies stopped coming but I'd still stay out.

This meant that our "Wednesday Night Thing" had turned into this: she'd stay home and rent movies--usually romantic comedies that I could do without--and I'd have my laptop at the local coffeeshop, writing for a few hours after work. So much for being big swinger, eh?

Even after we got married Wednesday nights were still our time to have away from each other -- everyone needs their space, right? I would kid myself that, if I wanted to, I could go out and tom cat around that evening and the Mrs. wouldn't mind. That's not necessarily the case.

We don't have the open relationship we once had, nor do I have carte blanche to fuck around -- though I still do on occasion. I need to stop kidding myself that I still have what we once proposed.

I miss my Wednesday nights.

Evan Rachel Wood

Insert joke about her last name here.