Edging Changed My Life

That post title sounds like hyperbole, but it really isn’t. Edging did change my life. I don’t think I’ve shared this story here before, but it seems an appropriate time to do so. After all, it is a holiday tale, albeit one with a touch more masturbation than is traditional for that genre. It starts sadly, but in common with most holiday stories and self pleasuring, has a happy ending.

The year was 2009 and I was grumpy. It was the week of Christmas and my friends were all out of town or busy with their families. My dating life had been non-existent all year and I was stuck at home, bored, alone, watching the Seattle rain. My life wasn’t particularly bad, it just felt like I was spinning in place, achieving little.

These days I’d tackle the holiday blues by arranging some hot kinky play. Sadly, back then the idea of actually exploring my kinks with another real life person seemed impossibly scary. I knew dommes existed, I just couldn’t imagine myself interacting with one. So instead I whiled away my vacation hours wandering through some of the stranger areas of the internet. It was there, on some obscure femdom forum, that I found a link to a series of femdom audio hypnosis files.

Hypnosis isn’t my kink, but one of the titles caught my eye: The 12 days of Christmas. It was an edging challenge. 12 hypnosis tracks based around edging at the end of each day, with no orgasms allowed until the last track. The accompanying blurb promised that the final days orgasm would be the most spectacular one of your life. I can’t speak to the truth of that – I only made it to day 10 – but the week or so of edging leading up to that did crazy things to my brain chemistry. I don’t think I was ever hypnotized, but I was so pleasantly frustrated and happily horny it broke down all my natural shyness and fear of reaching out to a domme. With a brain awash in endorphins, I resolved to shake things up and actually do something about my desires. In January 20210 I scheduled a session with a local pro-domme. My kinky self was finally out and has been flying high ever since.

To my eternal shame I don’t remember who produced the audio tracks. I only used them that one time, the disk they were on has long since died and all the similar examples I’ve found online aren’t quite the same thing. The bits of the hypnosis that were supposed to enthrall and dedicate me to their creator clearly didn’t stick. But that singular 10 day edging experience really did trigger a change in my life.

I’m not sure this shot of Mistress Madeline is strictly edging, but given the look on Parker London’s face, the build up has been pretty tortuous.

Mechanophilia

I’ve heard plenty of dommes complain about slaves slobbering all over their feet or shiny boots. The human tongue is rarely an effective mechanism to polish leather or clean a leg. However, I’ve never heard of a domme complaining about a slave ignoring her and licking the grill of the car she arrived in. Are they expecting him to lick the whole thing clean? Or did he take one look at the attractive ladies in fetish gear and decide that a fly splattered BMW grill was more his cup of tea? Also, at least one of the people there in very confused about how handcuffs work.

The image is from the classic British femdom magazine Cruella. This is one of their odder examples, but their magazine and site in the 90’s was very formative for the young paltego.

Suzi Quatro

The theme of female rock musicians who write, sing and play bass – as yesterday’s post featuring Savannah Sly was so obviously about – gives me the perfect excuse to feature Suzi Quatro. Her string of hits in the 70’s made her signature leather jumpsuit look famous. I’d always assumed it was chosen specifically for its sexy and fetishistic overtones, but according to this Guardian article it was originally because she thought Elvis looked good in leather and a jumpsuit would be practical for leaping around on stage. Only later, after she was photographed, did the other aspects because obvious.

Her main hits were all before my time, but I do remember as kid in the 80’s having my attention caught by her photographs. This early image is probably the most well known, but I prefer the later shot shown below. This was taken by famous rock photographer Allan Ballard in 1981 and is now in the UK’s National Portrait Gallery collection.

Hangover Cure

Apologies for the lack of content in the last couple of days. It’s holiday party season. Which also means it’s holiday hangover season. The combination of the two pretty much wiped out my weekend. The days of me bouncing back from a good party by lunchtime the next day are long gone.

Fortunately tonight I had a session with Savannah Sly scheduled, which quickly made me forget all my various aches and pains. After all, it’s tough to concentrate on lingering sensations from 2 days ago when a whole new dose of fresh and vibrant sensations have just been delivered. I wouldn’t typically recommend shock therapy, urethral sounds and beatings for a hangover, but Nurse Sly insisted, and it seemed to work out pretty well. I was still a crumpled heap at the end of it, but it was the good, happy kind of crumpled heap.

This is Savannah playing with her group Savannah Sly and the Session Players, promoting their new album Independent Means. You can get a copy from cdbaby and if you’re a fan of rock music and supporting sex workers then it’d be well worth doing so. I’ve been enjoying listening to it over the last couple of days, and proceeds to go to help Aileen’s of Seattle.

Use Your Words (revisited)

My safeword post from last week generated a number of thoughtful comments. The general consensus seemed to be that simple open communication was a good way to go and that safewords didn’t need to be particularly original.

poe2600 raised the interesting point that most submissives are very resistant to using safewords, even when they probably should. I think there’s a good deal of truth in that, although there always exceptions. I remember one pro-domme telling me about a client who she call the traffic light guy. He thought he should accompany their entire session with a constant stream of  ‘green… green… yellow… green… yellow… red! red!… yellow.’ Needless to say that wasn’t exactly conducive to a good D/s dynamic. Exceptions aside, I think it is true that there’s a natural inclination to try and avoid breaking the flow of play with a safeword. Which makes for another good reason to use your words and communicate in a more graduated and subtle way than a simple go/stop approach.

The trickiest situations for me are those where I see a possible problem arising later in the session and have to make a judgement call on when or if to call it out earlier. Typically this is when complex bondage and layered sensations are involved. For example, playing in NYC earlier this year I had a situation involving some particularly painful nipple clamps, a straitjacket and a lot of leather straps. Nipple clamps are usually painful going on and off, but become numb when on. These were not reacting like that. The pain was high and not diminishing, but it wasn’t yet at my stop point. However, the domme was about to tighten the straitjacket over them and I could see a lot of leather straps ready to go around it. Adjusting the clamps when they were hidden under all those layers would be a significant undertaking.

My solution in these situations is always the same – given the domme the information and leave the decision to her. I might be misreading her plan and adjusting later will be easier than I expect. Or she might prefer to push on and deal with any adjustments if it becomes necessary. In this case I told her that they were intense and bearable for a short period, but possibly not something I could handle over an extended period. She then elected to swap them for a different pair before pulling all the bondage into place. The remainder of the session then unfolded flawlessly.

These situations are always tricky because they’re not a simple binary choice. I also don’t want to be another traffic light guy and overload the domme with feedback. It’s ultimately a judgement call based on the the likelihood of needing to adjust something and how difficult it looks like that adjustment will become.

I’m fairly certain this shot of bondage and nipple torture is of Domina Yuki. That’s not me in the photo, but I’ve done a very similar scene in that space.

Final Gift Suggestion

For anyone still searching for that perfect gift, and not into the boots or books from my previous two posts, how about cushions? The one below is from Regards Coupables, a french artist and is available here. If the obviously Lichtenstein inspired art doesn’t do it for you, there are alternatives from the same artist that retain the humor and sexiness but substitute a cleaner style of drawing.

More Gift Ideas

If the handmade Italian leather boots from my last post aren’t quite what you’re after for the holiday gifting season, then perhaps I can direct your attention to something considerably more affordable and practical – a new book from Ferns. It’s called “How to Handle Disobedience” and comes complete with a handy acronym at no extra cost. By way of SLAPS you can get control of your unruly submissive and bring harmony to your D/s dynamic. Links to buy the book are located at the bottom of her latest post on it.

In the highly unlikely event that the wisdom of Ferns and SLAPS doesn’t work out for you then Dan Savage has another acronym to keep in mind – DTMFA.

This is a happy shot of domestic harmony and obedience. I’m afraid I don’t know the original source.

Lick Me

I’d seen these butt plug heeled ‘Lick Me’ boots before, but always assumed they were an art project rather than a real item of footwear. More fool me, because Madame Li Ying just posted a short clip of her modelling a pair. Their created by ainsley t (twitter here). It’s probably too late to get a pair for Christmas, but if you want to splurge on kinky fashion in 2020, they’ll make you a pair by hand in their Italian factory. I’m frankly surprised that I haven’t seen more dommes sporting boots from them.

Nubian Nympho Anna Amore’s Encore Pee-formance!

Despite the cesspool that is social media and the dangers of SESTA/FOSTA, I think it’s fair to suggest that the internet has generally been good for sex workers and pornography. The explosion in both the creation and consumption of porn would tend to confirm that. However, there have been causalities. One of them is the coverline writers for pornographic magazines. For example, take this copy of Nugget magazine from Dec ’98. Twitter, blogs and clipstores just don’t deliver writing like “Sommer Rain! Public pisser gushes gold on her front porch!” That’s a writer who obviously grew up reading the British tabloid press.

I’d never heard of Nugget magazine, but apparently it ran from 1956 to 2006. Over that time covers changed from examples like this one from 1959 featuring a new story by Jack Kerouac to the one above. I’m guessing that the article on Mistress Paris, the Big Titted Terror, isn’t quite up to to the same writing standards as the ’59 piece by Kerouac.