50 Shades of Grey next steps


I know that many people in the sex positive, bdsm, kink scene are coming out against 50 Shades of Grey. I’ve heard the countless arguments against it and I’ll admit I was unable to get in to the story. I did buy the box set but halfway through the first book I just couldn’t put myself through it anymore and I gave up. I found it slow, badly written and too unrealistic. However, THERE IS A BOOK!! Let’s take a second to get really excited about that shall we? It might be a poor representation of the lifestyle but it’s bringing the idea to the bedrooms over over 100 million people (seriously!) and I’m guessing many of them enjoyed it. Why? Because 50 Shades speaks to a very common desire – the urge to control or be controlled.

The argument can be made that Grey did this in an abusive way, I’m not here to argue that. I just want to take advantage of the hype to get a little deeper in to the whole concept of dominance and submission. If you read the book and enjoyed it you’re probably wondering how to proceed safely in to the next steps. Hopefully this helps.

I have to reiterate just one more time that this is not a new or rare fantasy. There is evidence of this dynamic in sex for as long as we’ve been keeping records.

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Lots of people are in to at least some aspect of it (spanking, hair pulling, choking, being held down, called names etc etc etc) without knowing it has a name. 50 Shades of Grey brought that name and that idea to the forefront of pop culture. It made it in to something you could talk about over coffee at your suburban book club – maybe a bit risqué but no longer taboo. It wasn’t complete though – no work is, fiction or otherwise. Now that we’ve started the conversation it is time to touch on the very basics that you have to know when you’re starting on your kinky journey. Safety first!

So, you’ve cornered your partner with sexy passages from the book (or hot pictures, good porn scenes, whatever) and he or she is willing to try and play out your fantasy. Lucky you! Now what?

Set boundaries
Everyone has limits and the first thing you need to do is make and categorize yours.
Hard limits – these are the things that are a definite no in any circumstance. Nobody is allowed to push these during play no matter what. Ever. No exceptions. If they do continually try to push your hard limits this is a huge red flag. It breaks trust and I wouldn’t suggest continuing to give them chances.
Soft limits – these are trickier. They are the things that make you a little uncomfortable or scared but you will allow under specific circumstances if caution is used. For example, one of my soft limits is face slapping. It can cause a very emotional reaction from me (as I found out the hard way, but that’s another story) so if a partner wants to attempt it he would have to be very attentive to my reaction and take it very slowly. I do not allow new partners to even try.

Safe words
These are not optional. If you are going to play you need to have a safe word. Why? Because “no”, “stop” and “please, no more, I just can’t take it” can mean the exact opposite when that paddle hits your soft fleshy ass. Your partner isn’t a mind reader. Pick a word *in advance* (or you’ll end up with my most recent one, “safe wording”). You can also use the light system (red means stop, yellow means proceed with caution) or a gesture if you’ll be gagged or playing with bondage. The safe word ends the scene immediately. I cannot stress this enough. You don’t slow down, you don’t guilt or whine, you don’t try just once more. You stop. Right away. You should talk about what happened but only after everyone is calm and feels safe. There is no shame or blame in using a safe word, any reason is a good one if either party is uncomfortable.

Communicate
Talk more than you think you have to. Before, during and after. Rules and comfort levels are constantly changing so don’t be afraid to voice what is and isn’t working for you at any given time. Enter with an open mind but realize that you have every right (and even a responsibility) to tell your partner when something doesn’t feel right.

Just like any fetish, BDSM isn’t the same for everyone. It should never be used in a malicious manner. No matter how you play you are no more or no less than any person you play with. It’s a fantasy, it should be fun. You have the right to a safe, sane and sensual time without pressure or bad intent.

What intrigues you about BDSM? Do you think I missed anything that absolutely needs to be discussed before beginning?

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St Valentine’s Day


Hot pagan sex and lustful gods and ancient wolf goddesses and potential marriage and more sex and more than a little crazed giddy divine animal blood sacrifice. All followed by some nice light whippings administered by nearly naked grinning boy-men, casual flagellations by goat-skin, some joyful thrashing in the name of fertility and purity and, you know, sex. Ahh,
Valentine’s Day.
The original, that is. Before it was called Valentine’s Day, back when it was called Lupercalia, a big Roman festival in honor of the fertility god Lupercus, before the ever scowling church got a hold of this ancient and rather odd and blood-pumped Roman lustfest, stole it and desexed it stripped it of its more spicy and admittedly libertine joys, as the church is so tragically wont to do. Tried to convert it into a mildly consecrated (read: bland, not naked) day, the church did, “Christianize” that naughty pagan fest, and failing that because no way are you going to trump ancient sex and lust with uptight chastity and faux-purity, they tossed in Saint Valentine to the mix, invented some nice legend, tried to turn this most funky of pagan holidays into an homage to romantic love and cherry nougat chocolates and Hallmark bullcrap.
Did they succeed?
Sort of.
Basically, it went something like this: In ancient Rome, on the 15th of February, in an altar called the Luperci sacred to the god Lupercus, in a cave in which the she-wolf goddess nursed founding twins Romulus and Remus, Luperci priests gathered and sacrificed goats and young dogs, the first for strength, the latter for purification and in honor of their strong sexual instinct and because it was a fertility deity and this is just what you did if you were a happy pagan citizen a couple thousand years ago.Some hunky boys of noble birth were then led to the shrine, where the priests would dab their foreheads with a sword dipped in the animal blood, after which our baffled youths were apparently obliged to break out into a shout of purifying laughter because that’s what the ceremony called for and no one is quite sure why and, well, what would you do in the same situation?
Then, a feast. Meat. Wine galore. Followed by the slicing of goat skins into pieces, some of which the priests cut into strips and dipped in the blood and then handed to the boys, who would take off and run through the streets, gently touching or lashing crops and bystanders (especially women) with the skins along the way to inspire fertility and harvest and because hey, half-naked laughing boys wielding bloody goat skins – what’s not to love?
Actually, the women eagerly stepped forward to be so stroked, believing that such a blessing rendered even the most sterile of them , and brought them ease in childbearing, and made them look all gothy and cool and sexy.
“This act of running about with thongs of goat-skin was a symbolic purification of land and men,” says one rather dry, scholarly website on the topic. “For the words by which this act is designated are februare and lustrare, and the goat-skin itself was called februum, the month in which it occurred Februarius, and the god himself Februus.” So, you know, there you go. February. Purity and lust and sex and gods. Really, what else do you need?
Then came the sex lottery. Oh yes. Say it once more, with feeling. Pretty much only have to say the words, “sex lottery,” and already you’re like, hell yes, count me in, sure beats dinner and a movie. And all the young ladies in the city would place their names in a large urn, and the city’s eligible bachelors would choose a name out of the urn and become paired for the year with his chosen woman, often resulting in marriage. You know, sort of like the Mormons. Only with actual sex. And booze. And without the creepy undergarments. But if there’s one thing the sexless butt-clenched church really hates, it’s sex lotteries. And free thinking. And good porn. Condoms. Margarita enemas. Literature. But especially sex lotteries. Go figure.
So along comes Pope Gelasius around 486 A.D. and declares, let’s say, oh, February 14 to be dedicated to a saint, and we’ll call him Saint Valentine, who might or might not be an actual martyr whose true history is murky at best, given how church records show at least four martyrs with the name Valentinus, whoops, oh well. Maybe they were being efficient. And of course, they outlawed the yummy sex lotto, changed the names in the urn from lusty single women to the names of pious saints to be emulated, because that’s what everyone wants, and jammed their new holiday right up against the February 15 date of Lupercalia. Which also had the added bonus of stomping all over the normal February 14 day of honoring Juno (Roman Goddess-queen of women and marriage), and focused it all on the makeshift Valentine, and voila, here we are: Hallmark cards and candy. But of course, the modern V-Day isn’t all bad. And this is not to say we should necessarily return to the old ways, a little bloodletting and lashing and animal sacrifice and random sex lotteries. Because everyone knowns that right under the cheap veneer of Valentine’s Day mega-marketing and hollow churchly romance is yet another delicious excuse to have more sex and indulge in fleshly pleasures and lick chocolate syrup off any combination your lover’s orifices. If you’re good.
In other words, the church both succeeded in their hostile takeover, and failed miserably. Sure Valentine’s Day is all romance and sentiment and made in China stuffed teddy bears on the outside, but it’s all raw oysters and sly spankings and groping in the movie theater and whipped-creamed nipples and soft divine bedroom cooing, inside. Which is exactly as it should be. Which is exactly how we still, without even realizing it, manage to recall our delicious Lupercalia, take a big lick of the pagan ways, regardless of everpresent churchly frowning and ‘Be Mine’ twittering and chubby Cupid. Because it’s always good to know where your manufactured holidays really come from. It’s always good to pay homage to the true origins, realize how much calculated deceit has happened along the way. Just like Christmas and Easter and Halloween and any major holiday worth mentioning that the church gutted and renamed and from whose soul they tried to suck out the joy, you just have to give props to the old gods, throw a kiss to Lupercus and Juno and the she-wolf.
So, buy those giant red balloons. Nab that $29 heart-shaped diamonelle necklace… but don’t forget to acknowledge that deep-down, gnawing, sly urge you’re doubtlessly harboring to rush out into the streets and wait for the laughing naked boys and get yourself gently lashed with bloody goat skins and then go have sex. Just like the pagan lust-monkey you so wish to be.
You go, Lupercus.

Two guys walk in to a bar


We met at a shady bar in a shadier neighbourhood. I had spent the day worrying about all the things that come along with meeting 2 guys at a bar. I hate uncomfortable situations, what if I didn’t mesh well with both of them? I was scared but a few drinks out me at ease. One of them was sweet and quiet while the other one… Well, he was not. The small talk started to flow as easily as the drinks and it wasn’t long before I invited both of them home.

I expected it to be more awkward but by the time I had thrown some music on we were having a good time. I couldnt resist sneaking a touch, lightly at first, but the intensity grew. I wasn’t in the mood for games and I was growing impatient. He took off his pants while the other man watched. My mouth went to work. Slurping, sucking, taking as much in as I could. It was so thick. My throat was so full. Heaven.

I took off my dress and he quickly undid the clasp on my bra with one hand. My panties were ripped off and thrown to the side. Strong hands forced me to take him deeper. I felt so little as I was thrown around to my hands and knees. A condom is taken out and a thick cock forces itself in to my tight, wet hole. He’s rough but I’ve made it known that I like that. I begin to moan as he builds his rhythm. It feels fantastic. I scream. He forces me in to position after position. I don’t fight him. Why would I when it feels so good?

The other man voices his approval and I remember the audience. I glacé up and see him happily watching so I put on a show of arching my back. My screams get louder. “That’s it! Take it! Break her pussy” oh yes, please do. Make me beg for it. Make me need it. Make me wish it’ll never end.

He fucks me harder and faster until I force myself off of him and get on my knees. “Where do you want me to cum?” “Everywhere. All over. Cover me – please”. He doesn’t disappoint. The first load of the night lands all over my face and chest, a wet, sticky mess that I created.

I clean up and come back down to show the other guy some attention. His cock feels good in my mouth as I get him hard. It seems the first guy had recovered enough to join us. I can hear him jerking it as I concentrate on the cock in my mouth. Another condom is opened and he pushes himself back in. His thrusts force me to take the other mans dick deeper in my throat. We get a rhythm going. I’m lost in the feeling. So much pleasure that I barely feel like I’m even involved, I’m floating above the scene. I try my best to make sure they get equal attention but I can sense the first guy is going to cum again. I pull out and turn around. I take him in to my mouth while the second fills my pussy. I’m thrust back and forth between them. My face is wet with spit and sweat. I’m screaming. I’m cumming. I can’t stop. It’s a blur. The second guy cums down my throat. The first guy pulls out and starts jerking it again. I wait anxiously for his load. The anticipation builds as I maneuver to my knees, I’m shaking. I’m spent. He lets off another load on my tits as I collapse.

Ready for another round?

The challenge


Blind dates are probably the closest thing to hell that is readily available to us. They’re awkward, they’re boring and they very rarely lead to success. I often ask myself why I even bother, but then, every once and a while it clicks.

After exchanging a few texts I decided to bite the bullet and meet up with another tinder guy. I figured I had tweaked my screening enough that I should be mostly ok, nobody too weird could make it through. After I had committed to the next evening he let slide that he was a “hipster at heart” well fuck, so much for my fail proof screening. But, it was too late to cancel so I decided to make the best of it. At the worst it was a night out…or another backdoor escape.

I arrived at the bar, a pretty classy place, and we see each other. He was wearing skinny jeans, perfect. I figure this is going to be a pretty short night. We sit down, he smiled and it just … Clicked. He was sweet and charming and all the regular stuff but, let’s be honest, nobody cares about that enough to blog about it right? So, what makes Mr. Hipster so special? He is the biggest tease I have ever met. I’m talking the kind of tease that makes you want to grab his hand and force it between your legs just to get some sort of release before you explode. The kind of tease that makes you want to get down on your knees and beg. The kind of tease that frustrates you but you can’t let go of. Even now, looking back on it fills me with equal parts excitement and embarrassment, it is rare that I let myself need something badly enough that I’m willing to do anything to get it.

The evening progressed over drinks while we played at asking each other random questions. It didn’t take long before the questions were dirty enough to make me blush. His arm was around me but he had been showing restraint. Then he casually leaned in so close I could feel his breath on my ear and whispered “I’m not going to fuck you tonight”. Excuse me? Challenge accepted. I spent a good hour with my hand on his cock but he held firm. No amount of touching or neck licking or sexual promises were going to make him budge. To make it that much worse I had found another dominant. He would tell me all the filthy things he wanted to do to me while simultaneously forbidding me to grab his dick. I tried to be good but the temptation was overwhelming. The more he denied me the more I needed it, I was becoming frantic. If Hipster could make me this wet without doing anything more than tugging on my hair, what would he accomplish with me naked?

I couldn’t stop imaging the scenario. We could sneak in to the bathroom without anybody noticing, there were private stalls. I was in a dress with no panties, it would be easy access. He seemed the type to throw me up against the wall, just a bit too hard, grab my hair with one hand as he forced my dress up with the other. “Quiet” he would order but it’s a command I doubt I could have obeyed. No time for foreplay, just a quick lick so he could ram his cock in. Pounding me hard with my face slamming against the wall. Tasting blood as I bit my tongue in a futile attempt to stay quiet. Ecstasy coming over me in waves as he finally neared climax. He would pull out in time to cover my ass in his warm, sticky mess then pull my dress down on top of it.

But fine, if he wanted to deny me I could play that game. I made sure that my touch made him hard, and kept him that way. I didn’t stop for a minute, I refused to give him time to calm down. A firm touch juxtapositioned with a soft tongue at the base of the neck. Two could play at this game and, if I’m being honest, I started to enjoy myself.

Too soon it was time to get the bill. I thanked him for a fun evening and promised I would see him again. We walked out of the bar and I asked him to get me to a cab. He insisted he drive me home, so we got in and I gave him directions.

I looked up and realized he was heading the wrong way, but when I brought it to his attention he replied “you’re coming to my place, I’m not finished teasing you yet”

Oh yeah Hipster? Challenge accepted.

Sexual exploration within a relationship


Trying new and crazy things when you’re single is hard enough. You have to suck it up, admit you want to try new things and go get them. It can be a scary experience but, at least you only have to worry about yourself. When you are within the confines of a relationship you have all those issues, plus your partner, plus their issues. It can be extremely overwhelming to try and balance all the emotions on one side and the fun new sex on the other. I’m by no means an expert at this but I have learned a few things to keep in mind when you are trying to be more adventurous in your sex life with your significant other.

1. Talk about it beforehand
You’re not going to be able to guess every future scenario you and your spouse will face in the next 20 years. That much is obvious. However, you should know what the “hard limits” are, these are the things that are a no go no matter what the circumstance. Hard limits can change but they should never be effected by the mood of an encounter, talk about them, talk about them often, be open.

2. Drunk is a bad time to try something new
I know you think I’m lying, a glass or two of wine loosens everybody up right? Maybe, but it causes more trouble than it’s worth. People who are under the influence are not exactly famous for making sound decisions. You will also have a harder time reading the dynamic of the situation and the mood of your partner if you are intoxicated.

3. Check in
It won’t ruin the mood for you to ask if your partner is okay occasionally, especially if it is your first time experiencing something as a couple. It is better to figure out if there is an issue early (even if it causes you to have to stop doing whatever you’re doing) than it is to have to deal with the anger, hurt feelings or embarrassment the next day. It is nobody else’s job to communicate but yours. If you are bringing in other people, if it was the other person’s idea, if it was yours – it doesn’t matter. You cannot make a person open up but you can communicate your own feelings and encourage them to do the same. The number one thing that keeps a couple together is communication, don’t forget that just because you’re naked.

4. Patience
Couples are often on different points on the sexually adventurous scale. Someone is usually more excited about a particular new activity than the other person, that’s a good thing. You can support each other and push each other at the same time, but be patient. Go slowly and you are more likely to be able to play again – this is one time that it is better to ask permission than beg forgiveness.

5. You are going to fuck up
Nobody is perfect, mistakes will be made almost every time you try anything new. You’ll get swept up in the moment and the rules will be a vague memory that you can’t quite grasp. You’re not off the hook but you are human. Forgive each other for the little mistakes you make – remember how lucky you are that you’re still trying new things. Move on.

Pain and pleasure


After many bad dates, tinder finally came through. Try to contain your shock.

Enter Mr. Grey, one of the finest specimens man has to offer. He exudes confidence and when he enters a room you can’t help but take notice. I don’t know what it is about him that ties my stomach in knots but it’s been a long time since a man made me nervous. I like it.

I ended up at his place the day after our first meeting. I think the agreed upon lie was that I needed a drink. He started off slowly, his mouth found mine and we made out more and more desperately. Finally, he put his hands between my thighs and started to explore just a little bit. After all the lead up it didn’t take long until he brought me to a loud, satisfying climax. He loved it, you could tell. It’s rare to have a guy who enjoys giving pleasure as much as receiving it but when it happens you better watch out – it’s a thrilling ride.

He let me keep my dress on as he started to kiss my thighs. Anticipation. He mixes pleasure with pain as he starts to bite me. I cry out. It’s been too long since someone has treated me like this. I try holding out as long as I can but Grey orders me to stand and, with minimal resistance, I comply. He removes my clothing and smiles as he takes me in. I blush. I’m shy at being examined by him but the urge to please is strong enough that I fight through it. Hands glide across my body but it’s evident he wants my ass. He pays special attention to it as he lays on the compliments. Does he know I’m putty in his hands?

He leads me to the bedroom and throws me on the bed. It’s a weird paradox… I can feel his dominance in every move but he is still smiling at me in such a lighthearted way. As he forces my legs open I cum again, I’m that turned on. He doesn’t even have to touch me and I’m shuddering in rapture. He’s certainly done this before. His tongue brings me to climax again and again. I lose control completely. I scream out my pleasure. I pound on his back. I try to close my legs. He keeps licking. He’s not even trying and it’s obvious that he is the one in control.

I push him off me in a feeble attempt to win some back. Im thrown back down. I take aim and hit him. Hard. In hindsight that might not have been the best move… or maybe it was. Judging from the names I’m being called it was safe to say I’m about to be put in my place. He lifts me off the bed by my hair and forces me to bend over on to the bed. Smack. Fuck. Smack. I’m not used to this anymore. Smack. It hurts. Smack. Smack. Smack. I can’t do it. I turn over to see him smirking. “That’s all you can take, slut?” I’m ashamed but I nod my head. I’m allowed up just to be put back on my knees. He forces himself down my throat and I gag. Me! I never gag! Tears in my eyes, he fucks my face harder and harder, accusing me of not trying hard enough.

Then the clamps come out. Crap. I lay on the bed as he fastens the first one on to my pert nipple. I gasp. The bastard is getting too much of a kick watching me writhe. The next one hurts even more. I fight the urge to pull them off myself, being a good girl is so hard. I can’t even describe the pleasure on his face at my pain. I call him on it and he just tightens the clamps as he calls me a brat. He takes my nipple in to his mouth and licks. Fuck that feels good. He pulls gently and my body feels like it’s on fire. Every time I get used to the sensation he tightens them, just a little bit. I’ve lost count of how much I’ve cum. All I know is, with him, it’ll never be enough.

I need him inside of me. I need to feel that cock fill me up. I tell him as much but he isn’t sympathetic. He makes me beg him. He’s won. He knows that. After he’s satisfied that he’s beat enough pride out of me grabs a condom. He pulls my legs up and rams in to me hard. I can feel my nails slice in to him as I beg him to fuck me harder. I can’t get enough of him. He takes me in every position. It’s a blur of arms and legs and kisses. I’m in absolute ecstasy.

Suddenly he pulls out and throws me on too the floor again. He rips off the condom and I start licking and sucking greedily, taking special care to give his balls enough attention. I’m rewarded. Fuck he has so much cum. I open wide and I still get it all over my face.

“Now you look like a used up little slut”

I couldn’t be more proud.

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Mr. Grey,
I know you’re reading this with a huge smile on your face. Remember that the next time you’re punishing my bratty behaviour.

Xox,
M.

Halloween meet and greet


A week isn’t exactly a long stretch but it sure can change everything. You may have noticed that I was slowly getting my feet wet in the swinger’s scene and I was quite enjoying it. It doesn’t quite scratch the itch of my cheating fetish but it is an interesting way to get some variety. I love me some variety.

On Saturday I went to a “meet and greet” in the community for like minded individuals but unfortunately I did not meet anyone. There was someone there I knew and we had a good time. I won’t go in to any details out of respect for the individuals involved but let’s just say I’ve never been groped by a man in a cape before. The incident has made me rethink my feelings about open relationships and made it painfully obvious that I need a refresher course on this lifestyle and the different dynamics in it so, expect a few more swinging posts in the weeks to come.

Until then I’ll just post a few pictures of my Halloween costume.

I was catwoman in a latex catsuit and leather corset. I spent the night covered in silicon lube and sweat. Yum!

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