Welcome to e[lust] – The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #57? Start with the rules, come back April 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
– This Month’s Top Three Posts –
Trick of the Light
What Does Porn Lead To
The Posh Life of a Sex Toy Reviewer?
– Featured Posts (Molly’s Picks) –
Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Sadists ← This is me!
– Readers’ Choice from Sexbytes –
*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
Its official: NatWest now censors academic work
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy! Continue reading
You know the way you can hate yourself after an extreme scene?
Well, Shakespeare did too. And, of course, he describes it better than anyone.
Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame
Is lust in action; and till action, lust
Is perjured, murd’rous, bloody, full of blame,
There’s an ache in your chest that hits sometimes when you’re a sub without a dom. I mean a real, physical ache.
You want to grovel, you want to be cared for, you want to be done to.
It hurts like hell. This has been heartbreakingly documented by Unspeakable Axe, who truly deserves his happy ending. And also by the following talented authors:
Later, though, I lay awake in the dark and listened to him as he slept: the slow measured breaths of a man at ease with himself and his world. I wanted to press close into the weight of him, the warmth of him, that strong and supple and determined body that so matched his strong and supple and determined mind. I wanted to, but I didn’t dare. If he was a light sleeper, if I roused him, he might be angry. The first duty of a house slave, always, is to please the guests of the house; if a guest complains about a slave – a boy, say, who woke him up by being restless or stupid or needy in the night, forgetting his place and his duty – Mistress’s first reaction, always, is to reach for the whip. Continue reading
My friends and I were not brought up to discuss sex, and so kink does not come up in conversation. But this has changed a little since I wrote my coming-out letter, because I have now come out to five more friends and one more brother (which is enough for now).
As I expected, everyone was supportive. But they still managed to surprise me. Here is the executive summary for your entertainment, presented with the consent of all parties not-quite-quoted.
Phew I was worried that something was wrong.
I have read that American women feel obliged to seem cheerful and friendly to strangers, even when they’re actually grumpy or scared.
Not being American, this was difficult for me to believe until a domme friend told me about something terrifying that happened to her, just walking to the train station.
Maybe you’ll think it was nothing. All that happened was that a man came from nowhere and gave her a bear hug. He hit on her, she laughed and got away, and he probably still thinks it was okay.
I was horrified. “I would have screamed!” I told her.
“That’s what I should have done!” she agreed. And she clearly felt guilty for not being assertive enough.
There is no shame in weakness and fear. Or in power and privilege – if you learn where the whip lands.
But my reaction comes not from courage or confidence, but from profound awareness of weakness.
And unashamed fear. My grandmother barricaded the door every night after her stepmother remarried. Continue reading
The morning after I signed up at CollarMe.com, I happened to start daydreaming about one of my favourite books, and a bolt of arousal shot through me.
Normally this would not have been such a surprise, but I had believed I was dead between the legs due to exhaustion. Evidently not. I tried thinking about my own life again and was able to confirm my new hypothesis. CollarMe is the best ‘off’ switch for my submissiveness ever.
The stories had not prepared me. Yes, I had fully expected to be told “Slave, here is your new master, now masturbate like a slut” after saying no thanks. That’s what happened to me on Bondage.com ten years ago. Frankly, the FetLife groups Return to Sender and Profile Pitfalls have no idea what they missed. Kinky men really are more clued-in now.
But no, the first problem was the sheer volume. I took maybe half an hour to fill out my profile, then noticed that the Who’s Viewing Me? button was highlighted. Click. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It just kept scrolling down. I hadn’t even known the profile had gone live.
In three hours I received about 100 messages. Among them were three plaintive one-liners asking why I hadn’t replied yet, one of which alluded to “disrespect”. There were obscene messages, one-word messages, and un-prefaced requests for friendship or chats. I am so grateful to all those guys for making my decision really straightforward. I want to give them efficiency awards or something, but they would probably take it the wrong way.
BDSM: bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism.
What does it feel like to need that kind of thing?
One of my friends said, “It’s about fear, isn’t it?” Well, no, it’s not. I’m afraid of contact lenses and rollercoasters and they don’t do a thing for me. And I have been genuinely afraid that my partner wanted to hurt me. I can’t remember ever feeling more frigid in my life.
Possessiveness. Contempt. Wisdom. Kindness.
So then I thought it was vulnerability that did it for me. But I kept noticing all kinds of other things that worked. Possessiveness. Contempt. Wisdom. Kindness. Really, anything which says power does it for me. Looking back, I’m amused how annoyed I was that other people were right about my own kink and I wasn’t.
But the reason I was trying to identify a more specific turn-on is that power just doesn’t sound that sexy. With fear, you can completely see how the raised pulse and endorphins could contribute to the, ah, fun. With vulnerability, think of all those sensitised nerve endings. But power?
When I was a sleep-deprived undergraduate, the only thing I got out of The Romance of the Rose was the lover finally getting to pluck the rose – yes, that’s exactly what you’re supposed to be thinking.
Somehow I managed to miss this wonderful meeting point between medieval fealty and courtly love. And then I read The Eternal Dungeon by Dusk Peterson, which begins with this quotation.
Roman de la Rose (excerpt)
Then straightaway Love came toward me with quick steps, and as he came he cried out: “Vassal, you are taken. There is no chance for escape or struggle. Surrender without making any resistance ….”I replied simply, “Sir, I surrender willingly, and I shall never defend myself against you. May it never please God for me even to think of ever resisting you, for to do so is neither right nor reasonable. You may do with me as you wish Continue reading
I had always believed that playing with a brilliantly competent stranger couldn’t be as good as playing with a loved one. But Friday’s class shook that belief.
You see, I thought it would be impossible to go from “Wow, you’re nice but I don’t know if I can do this” to “Your laughter shifts my world”. But if there was one theme of this class, it was taking the sub from point X to point Y so gently and unerringly that the sub doesn’t know she’s moved. (Male dom and female sub pronouns in this review, as in the presentation.)
I was also struck by the 2-in-1-ness of his technique. Getting the sub to relax and be invaded at the same time. Praise and humiliation in the same breath. The reassurance of the question “How are you feeling?” paired with dead neutral intonation.
That goes with the other theme of the evening: contrast. Continue reading
Poor Robert Frost would be turning over in his grave. He probably wasn’t writing about masochism.
And yet he said it for us. How the good stuff makes you feel real and alive and more.
Love at the lips was touch
As sweet as I could bear;
And once that seemed too much;
I lived on air
That crossed me from sweet things,
The flow of – was it musk
From hidden grapevine springs
Downhill at dusk?
I had the swirl and ache