Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Always on

Recently, my girl had fallen ill two separate but closely spaced times. For a young lady whose immune system usually outperforms most customs officials, this was a rarity. Both incidents, she needed considerable amounts of recovery time, which resulted in her unable to attend to the duties she normally fulfills. Personally, i love these infrequent moments where i get to take care of her. She is at her most vulnerable when the nasties are riddling her insides with discomfort.

One might expect that my dominant side gets turned off when my girl is sick, in order to go easy on her and allow her ample energy to recover rather than submit. Unfortunately, i do not have the capacity to turn the urge to dominate off. That would be tantamount to mentally turning off the drive to respire fresh oxygen into my lungs. Domination is not a need, per se, but a component of my life. The same goes for my girl. Her submission is not a cosmetic that gets applied, but the foundation to who she is.

Now this is not to say that i demand, in between hacking coughs, that my girl drop to her knees and perform fellatio. I may be a sadist, but i'm also a gentleman. However, i am stern with her. I give her strict guidelines to the amounts of fluids and medication she needs to ingest, and when these are not followed (which invariably, they never are - her mental faculties are suspect during these bouts) i chide and reprimand her. Just like regular spankings can help guide a submissive - reminding her of her place, helping her feel that comfortable boxed sensation - insisting on discipline to a strict remedy to her ailments also guides her to a recovery.

All of this works quite well when put into application. There are a only a few disturbances that can short circuit it. Recently, one such snafu occurred in the form of a malady hitting both of us at the exact same time.

She awoke feeling crappy on a Sunday morning. I felt a little nauseous, but assumed it was residual effects of the previous evening's social activity. Whatever pathogen she had almost immediately took over her body. The poor girl was in great discomfort, barely able to stand upright, made worse by her having to vomit (which is even more rare than her catching the occasional cold). With as much as she was discharging from her insides, i knew she would need to recapture her fluids, or her symptoms would be exacerbated. As the queasiness in my stomach continued to gurgle on, i bundled up and went outside to go round up some supplies at the corner store. I hadn't walked more than 20 steps on the sidewalk before i felt a sharp pain in my abdomen. I knew instantly, having battled with it a few times before, that what she had and now i was food poisoning. By the time i shuffled myself to the store and back, i could barely hold in all that was fighting to come out.

For the next 14 hours, our bodies went through torment. Aches that made every position we lay in uncomfortable. I knew i needed to continue to consume as many liquids as possible, even though i was shortly sending it back into the city's sewer system. Unfortunately, because i felt like one of Mike Tyson's sparring partners, i could not remain as diligent as i normally would about my girl's own hydration. Her struggle with the food-borne affliction bookended mine, where i was back to normal the following morning, it took her several days to feel her pretty little self again.

At one point during the residual days of her health restoration, i felt an immense desire to take her over my knee. I'd been fighting it for the past two days, and just suddenly gleaned that the moment was right. When i called her into my bureau, she saw me sitting in my big, comfortable chaise, and knew instantly why i summoned her. She sighed vocally, and her shoulders collapsed inward, signalling her resistance to the idea. I held my stare on her face, giving her a clear indication that i had no intention to bend. She offered her compliance in the form of lowering her pajama bottoms and panties, then positioned herself over my legs.

Once i began, i knew this was the exact thing i needed. A sensation of organic creation grew inside of me. I rubbed her flesh, and my somewhat cloudy vision from the days before sharpened as i caught the detail from each ripple of the meat of her buttocks. The weight of her on my lap awakened instincts that had to be supplanted while my body fought the food poisoning, as did the familiar scents that arose from her naked flesh. When i began to swat her ass, i listened to her response, smiling as each shriek slowly produced notes of growing pleasure. When it came time to give her hard smacks to which she counted each out loud, the amount i settled on just materialized in my head. Once administered, she and i both knew it was the proper dosage required.

It gave the sickbed aura a sense of normalcy, indicating that we'd moved past the infirmity. In fact, the next day, my girl declared how much better she felt. And, when i reflected on it, so did i.

Sugasm #120

Sugasm #120

Suzie Carina courtesy of Badgirl’s Hotbox.

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #121? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
The Ache of Desire Unsatisfied
“J groaned in my ear, and I nearly pulled down his zipper then and there.”

“Tingles of electricity were set coursing up and down that side of my body.”

Part(y)ing shots
“I placed both my hands on the tiled wall in front of me, clammy and cold, holding myself up.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
The “Best way to make him felt hot”

Editor’s Choice
Who Is A Sex Worker?

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

BDSM & Fetish
The administration of pain

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Latex NOT sexy?

How could this be? In a comment to my liquid latex post, elle presented the notion that prior to my discussion about the paintable kind, latex had never appealed to her in a sexy way. I couldn't honestly fathom that. But i gave it more contemplation, eventually coming to the acceptance that for many people, latex must come off as a fringe, freakish material, worn by the most depraved and debauched.

While i agree that the rubbery textile can have its dramatically extreme and bizarre applications (i.e. like this), there are many examples of latex garments where they accomplish a sensuality and eroticism, yet still providing the edge of kink.

I present the following photographic examples of some very famous models and designers in the latex medium in the hopes of altering the opinion of those of you out there who don't find this kind of clothing sexy:

Two favorite Libidex dresses

great schoolgirl outfit from Skin TWO

Ms. Bianca Beauchamp (and Black Widow)

Stunning Syren dress

The gorgeous Rubberdoll

I rest my case.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Go to sleep

Every night, i have my girl ask me if she can go to bed. That wasn't always the rule. It grew more out of an impulse that i developed.

Once we moved in together, we noticed that our bedtimes did not coincide with each other. She's one that really requires a good amount of sleep, and i'm one who can do with very little. I've always been this way, never enjoying the act of sleeping. In fact "sleeping in" for me usually has me crawling out of bed at the late hour of 7:30 AM. My girl, on the other hand, really enjoys, but more importantly, values sleep. This is not to say that she is one of those marathon slumberers who can doze until 3 in the afternoon. But, compared to me, she might as well be Nip Van Winkle.

Very often, i would escort her to bed, and naturally felt an urge to tuck her in. I loved wiping the hair out of her eyes, speaking a few soothing words to her and giving her a kiss on her forehead. This urge came and went, until one evening she was lumbering off to the bedroom and i demanded where she was going.

"I'm going to bed."

"Don't you think you should ask first?"

"Is that something i need to do now?"

I'm not one of those dominants who demands a strict, micro-managed regiment of minute-by-minute approvals for everything that she does. In fact, i have nearly enough of that at work, i couldn't fathom trying to manage it in my relationship. However, something about putting a lien on the slumber ritual really stimulated me. It both calmed and excited me to tuck my girl in at the end of the day. At its essence, i wanted to put her away.

We do not use terms like "daddy" or "little girl". In fact, i believe we'd tried them, and they just felt false. But the sentiment behind those terms are very much at play here. I enjoy the idea that she looks to me for correction, guidance, and wisdom but that she also exposes herself to me so that i can soil her, debase her and suspend her idolatrous innocence long enough for me to use her, and then, send her off to bed.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Different strokes

It may not surprise the reader that i spent a vast amount of time in dramatic theater during my time in middle school, high school and college. I paid my dues both on and back stage, learning the ropes of lighting design, acting, costumes, directing and, my personal favorite, makeup. I poured over the available literature on how to accomplish, for instance, an old age transformation of a girl my age. I'd follow the step-by-step illustrations that showed how to mature her countenance until she resembled an octogenarian matriarch. I became well-acquainted with the magical salve that played a major role in most of these optical illusions:

liquid latex

Needed to create wrinkles? Liquid latex. Needed to smooth the edges of a bald cap? Liquid latex. How about erasing the actor's eyebrows in order to make a more dramatic visual statement? Once again, liquid latex. In fact, it became very clear, that this pungent, demanding munition could be employed to address just about any cosmetic need a production might have. I came to view this wonder material as some invincible merchant for metamorphosis, and secretly, as i scrutinized my staff of student makeup artists, i thrilled at the idea of wielding this tool to manipulate chair-fulls of willing female mannequins.

Years later, an endless internet connection introduced itself into my life, wherein i used this portal to search for any and every erotic appetite i ever possessed. I learned that there were others who sought the application of liquid latex in a sexual manner, sheathing the female form in layer after layer of customized rubberization.

Deviant was easily the most comprehensive site that demonstrated the potential applications of liquid latex as a full body embalming device. Going there again (in addition to seeing how little they have stayed with the times of slick, updated websites), i encounter images that simply poisoned my mind when i first saw them.

Here, for my eyes to feast on, was a girl who's incredible frame was unequivocally transformed into a shiny red rubber doll, wearing an outfit so tight and trim that she literally needed to be painted into it. Deviant actually devoted a good amount of time showing the models tearing the latex off of themselves, as if to say that no substance can contain the wild sexual creature this tight shininess conjures.

I scoured the internet every opportunity i had, to try to find more evidence of other girls succumbing to this desire to encapsulate them in multiple applications of latex. I'd fiddled with my captivation for cocooning the female form, but now i chose to expand my mind by grasping the idea of using her body as a canvass and a target for entrapment, which provided so much raw, visceral pleasure. In my mind, i fantasized about coating the female anatomy, from head to toe in liquid latex, turning them into galvanized capsules of sexual purpose. In application, i discovered this was much more difficult to pull off.

Over time, i would come to collect vats of liquid latex in multiple colors. One thing i learned as i used this supply was that in order to create long-lasting, aesthetically-pleasing liquid latex designs, you needed patience and an inordinate amount of time. This material, when coated over an entire (hairless - i must STRESS- hairless) body, takes several applications in order to build up the durability and attractive thickness. Each layer alone takes 10 minutes to fully dry (with the assistance of a hair dryer) and any decent outfit takes 4-5 layers at the very least. Your model must be patient and willing to endure the procession of strokes from the paintbrush (sponge brushes provide the smoothest and most even application). One of the wonderful properties of liquid latex is that it has a 4-5% shrinkage rate, meaning that the more layers you apply, the tighter it pulls on the flesh of the wearer, creating a remarkable firming sensation.

There is much thrill in slowly coating your submissive in a layer of liquid that dries in a rigid and stern manner. The way it emphasizes but also exposes their natural curves, all the while keeping them firmly trapped between a tactile barrier of latex satisfies so many of my aesthetical pursuits.

I think it has been too long since i employed this manner of entombment.

Friday, February 15, 2008

The Exchange

Very frequently, i find myself trying to relate my idea of a power exchange with those more customary relationship dynamics i encounter. It will happen while i'm at a dinner party with friends, and everyone around the table is coupled off in some measure of commitment. Or on the train, commuting into work, i'll observe the young couple sharing a pole, whispering to eachother. I think about what led to these affiliations, how it might differ from my own. All relationships begin with a single transaction. But is that where they cease to ressemble eachother? The terms of that transaction in SM is very crucial, if not the single denominator of what transpires following it.

The two opposite sides of the power exchange meet. A transaction occurs. The dominant makes a proposition. It is here that the next moment defines the structure of the dynamic. Does the submissive offer her consent by accepting his offer? If she does, this places her in control, not the dominant. Every subsequent decision he makes is within the realm of her intellectual consent. He may act like the overlord of this dominion but she is the Creator. Whereas, should the response to the initial transaction be one of silence, not rejection, but absence of an acknowledgment, the dominant may act on the terms he dictates and enforces.

What draws me to the type of a relationship that i am in, is that my submissive, masochistic partner, is as starved for power as i am. We are equals in that sense. Otherwise we wouldn't be compatible, and would not be able to fulfill each other as we currently do. She gets off on giving, and i get off on taking. Granting permission strips the equality in our pursuit. The grantor becomes the leader, the controller. One becomes stronger than the other without any attempt on the more dominant party at taking that control. This nullifies the need to create equality in our roles. It wouldn't be the same i'm afraid, it wouldn't fulfill either one of us if it were the other way around.

I've never outright asked if the submissive would consent to me doing the things i'm about to do. It's known. It's felt. The exchange occurs when a flow moves across the connection our bodies/eyes/souls make. This is The Gain i've frequently discussed. This is the currency that i use to purchase the pleasure i derive from her flesh.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

I like to keep her in suspense, pt. 1

I couldn't tell who was more enthusiastic about the potential: him or i. Our encounters, whether in person, over e-mail or instant message almost always landed on the planning of the evening of our quartet. I mentioned earlier here how K and i had been brainstorming on the possibility of taking our casual (if not very passionately pedestrian) conversations between the two of us (and sometimes those that included our partners) to a more interactive level. Me being the greedy, often horizon-before-the-foreground sort of person proposed an outrageous scenario wherein my girl would be the central focus of a great deal of erotic energy. K initially went along with it, but as time went on, he articulated reservations about it that i myself had not had the stomach (aka humility) to confess.

I still remember his course-changing offer. It seemed so simple yet so outlandishly exciting. In fact, the very subject of the evening was something i could never have hoped for him to present. I had aspirations that perhaps a dozen or more foursomes down the line he might present this activity as a possibility. The reasons for my reticence was because K is known not on a community-wide level for his expertise in this field of bondage, nor on a national level, but on an international scale. He has taught classes on the subject to audiences around the country. He has contributed his services to both breathtaking, commissioned works of arts and spiritual, holistic healing sessions. His talents in this avocation have exposed him to the elite of the elites within the fetish world. I literally held no water to him in comparison.

Nonetheless, i leapt at the opportunity. In doing so, i unknowingly left behind a great deal of issues i would eventually need to address. When the time came, i realized that i had uncertainty surrounding whether the chemistry of my power dynamic would mingle with that of another's, despite the levels to which i prided my ability to control myself and my girl. This is analogous to being confident in one's ability's to sing in the shower and not knowing if that confidence would travel to the "Gong Show" once you made your appearance there.

Another thorn i discovered in my jumpsuit once i landed from the thrill of the impending evening emerged in a rather provocative form. I do not like to share my girl, nor does she like to be shared. Granted, we have played on a large(r) stage, in front of multiple others (read: complete strangers) and amassed great thrills at these displays. But couple-a-couple, we had not yet attempted.

I wrestled with these existential questions in an atypical fashion. In large part, when faced with issues of great emotional contention, i come to my girl. However, in this case, i couldn't do so. It had been my decision from the very beginning of the negotiations with K:

my girl would be kept completely in the dark

It didn't make logical sense to go to her with the meat of my vulnerability but withhold the "bone" to which it clung. Anytime she asked (which was seldom because she knew she would not get satisfaction to her inquiries) about the logistics of the upcoming evening, her questions were met by a firm but playful "you aren't serious..." stare.

With enough to occupy my mental faculties, i satiated my need to organize the approaching scene. Relying heavily on K's guidance, i set myself to acquiring the necessary equipment. His expertise served as a (most likely too often-indulged) shopping spree of knowledge. Frequently, he would ask me questions about my specific wishes for each stage of the evening, and habitually, i would lean on his expertise for the answer. Quite frankly, it was like wandering into a rock concert without an instrument case and the drummer asking you how much tom-tom you felt the ampitheatre needed. "Are you serious? Oh, are. WOW."

The small but not insignificant details worked themselves out. Soon we had a date (is it really possible to coordinate four incredibly busy metropolitan schedules?) and a location (my place or somewhere else? does anyone have an animal allergy or an aversion to keeping their noise to a civil volume?). All that remained was to let years of fantasy and serious mental focus to take control of the evening, and all would be fine.


*this continues on here

Saturday, February 9, 2008


From Lamia: Part I

...Lycius from death awoke into amaze,
To see her still, and singing so sweet lays;
Then from amaze into delight he fell
To hear her whisper woman's lore so well;
And every word she spake entic'd him on
To unperplex'd delight and pleasure known.
Let the mad poets say whate'er they please
Of the sweets of Fairies, Peris, Goddesses,
There is not such a treat among them all,
Haunters of cavern, lake and waterfall,
As a real woman, lineal indeed
From Pyrrha's pebbles or old Adam's seed.
Thus gentle Lamia judg'd, and judg'd aright,
That Lycius could not love in half a fright,
So threw the goddess off, and won his heart
More pleasantly by playing woman's part,
With no more awe than what her beauty gave,
That, while it smote, still guaranteed to save.

Nature withheld Cassandra in the Skies

Nature withheld Cassandra in the Skies
For meet adornment a full thousand years;
She took their cream of Beauty, fairest dies
And shaped and tinted her above all peers;
Love meanwhile held her dearly with his wings
And underneath their shadow charm'd her eyes
To such a richness, that the cloudy Kings
Of high Olympus uttered slavish sighs -
When i beheld her on the Earth descend
My heart began to burn - and only pains
They were my pleasures - they my sad Life's end -
Love pour'd her Beauty into my warm veins -

From Ode On a Grecian Urn

When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,' - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

This is real poetry, the words of John Keats, a man i first read over two decades ago. These three passages, although not the only ones of his, are singlehandedly responsible for honing my approach to the female creation. I remember reading these words and reacting to them as if they were a long lost friend. They completed so many abbreviated thoughts and ideas that swam around in my head. This man, who'd written a century and a half before me, had enunciated my voice.

Recently, i had the wonderful opportunity to visit with a friend who i hadn't seen or spoken to in over three years. She, in the wonderful parallel circumstance of getting to see her again, gave me a surprise gift. I had lent her my well-used paperback copy of Keat's poetry, and she had returned it to me. I'd really missed the book, actually thinking that i'd lost it. He'd aged well, and the dog-eared pages quickly led me to these above poems. Reading them over brought a warm remembrance of the young boy who, when looking for a companion, found one named John.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

The administration of pain

The short answer to the question "Does a dominant want to hurt his submissive?" is:


However, i feel this subject truly deserves a longer answer.

This is a question that has been posed to me by several of the girls i've placed at the receiving end of my sadistic cruelty. I understand why they ask it. The desire to "hurt" someone is unethical, brutal, mean, indicative of a lack of respect for the person you hurt. The submissive has always hoped when asking this question that i utilize pain to affect some other measures rather than just physical duress. After all, inflicting pain on someone else can be illegal, depending on the intent, and no girl wants to believe that after she's consented to this treatment she's ultimately become the victim of a crime.

I think the clarity in this discussion can be discovered by drawing the distinction between 'hurting someone' and 'causing them pain'. I have left my submissives' flesh bruised, scratched and bloodied. Were these signs of force purposeful or just convenient side effects from another leading agenda? No. I hit them as hard as i did to cause damage to the flesh. Did i want to injure the submissive, to maliciously send her to the hospital? Not at all. I didn't want to abuse her, but i most certainly wanted to cause pain.

Pain affords many possibilities. It is a medium that is rich and diverse, and insists upon a quick and immediate response. When you slap a leather strap across her thigh, you don't want to hear mechanized or artificial groans of suffering - lest a yelp that sounds rehearsed. You want to inflict something that genuinely shocks them, causes them to jerk their head towards you and offer you their curled, tortured brow. You want their look to connect the path of this burning sensation to your dominant position that allows you to dispense it. You want to hear a cry that is the result of your judicious sentence. You want to hear her pleading for release, you want to push her to a point of discomfort where her body fills her flesh with endorphines, exacting her from the regular droll routine of daily life.

I get off on the sounds of feminine struggle. The whimpers as they are formed through curved female lips. The grunts that express her acceptance of her irremovable bondage. The screams that roar out into the air a ballad of pure vivacity. Nothing arouses this concerto of noise like the all-immersive qualities of pain.

In the late 19th Century, when ether was discovered, the world erupted, jubiliantly declaring that humanity had conquered pain. I personally do not see this goal as ever being beneficial. Pain is as crucial to the human existence as love is. And i have found, because it has received such a poor social stigma, great feats of physical exploration can be accomplished when pain is used carefully, surgically and intelligently.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

How to build your own mummy

What you'll need:
10 ft. of shrinkwrap or palletwrap

15 yds. of colored 2" wide duct tape (color of your choosing)

set of Surgical/bandage safety scissors

4" piece of PVC pipe (2" diameter) - optional

Start with a nude submissive. Depending on the intensity of the mummification, you may want to position her over her final resting place. Position her limbs as you would like her to remain during her internment. It is best to wrap her arms individually then to progress to the rest of her body. This added layer serves as a quality adherent, strengthening the immobilization of the bottom.

Once her limbs are well coated with shrinkwrap (while wrapping, pull the layers tight), begin securing these to her torso by layering plastic across her upper body. Pay attention to the manner in which you apply the plastic to her mid-section, if pulled too tightly, it will have the tendency to roll upward. Make sure all entombment happens evenly and pleasingly to the eye. Again, depending on how extensive the mummification, one may continue to encase the rest of the body.

Only until her entire body is securely imprisoned do i suggest that you move to the head. At this point, the excitement for both you and her is at a height. It is very easy to lose place of the necessity for safety and pragmatism. With the plastic wrap, begin with a layer under her chin, going behind her head, then back around over her eyes. Without fail, pulling a layer of plastic over your submissive's eyes is always an exhilarating achievement. Proceed slowly, making sure to smooth each new layer as tightly to the head as possible. Depending on what design you have for her breathing, it's always important to secure an unquestionable method of airflow for her. It's at this point where one can enlist the PVC piping, but otherwise, ensure that the bottom's mouth (and nose) are completely unobstructed.

By now, the submissive is adequately immobilized. However, as the dominant, this is not enough. We want to encase her more. This is where the duct tape comes into play. Grabbing a roll of tape, pull off a strip about twelve inches long, and tear it from the spool. Apply this across the chest, taking great care in smoothing it to the layer of plastic covering her bound frame. Proceed in this manner, tearing off strips of tape (as opposed to wrapping a continuous ribbon of adhesive). This will secure her to the fullest extent, while also ensuring not to cut off circulation to her limbs and joints, allowing for a longer entombment.

Again, i like to finish with the head. For whatever reason, silencing this part of her anatomy accelerates my excitement. Pay close attention to her breathing and any noises she makes. She is at an incredibly vulnerable position here. It is important that you remain aware of all of her vitals, and if you leave her (which i frequently do), check back often, to make sure her breathing is unobscured, and that she hasn't lost (too much) feeling in her extremities. It's here, at this point, where the safety scissors are crucial.

Now, enjoy your very own mummy.

- While wrapping the submissive, you can take note of her erogenous zones, leaving them exposed, or later cutting through the layers to reveal them to the outside. It is a very efficient way to play with her genitals without her say or input.

- You can add a vibrator underneath the layers, positioning it strategically to stimulate and further disembody the bottom.

Make sure to be careful when cutting the submissive from the folds of plastic and duct tape. Pull the layers away from her skin when cutting with the scissors, making sure none of her flesh gets caught in the blades. Take your time releasing her, as rushing can lead to careless injuries. The worst thing that could happen would be to injure or harm your toy.