In the interest of fair debate, here, in its entirely is Katie's point of view recollection of our "casual encounter" as detailed in my two part series that precedes this post. And I'm even so generous as to not cut her off. Told you she could ramble as well as I can...
it started out the typical way. iming various pervy, "send me your pubic hair" posts back and forth with a friend. then i read dante's post which was a welcome break from the skeevy fetishists and sounded relatively sane. much more sane than one would expect on craigslist. i was feeling particularly lonely and particularly commitment-phobic so i responded with a similar list of 10 of my own and figured his response would be less intelligent, funny, and thoughtful and more "send me clippings of your pubic hair mixed with ketchup". unfortunately, it was brilliant, hilarious, and pensive. so i googled him like any self-respecting woman does in this day and age and found his blog, realizing that no, he's actually quite a creepy person and probably watches csi to laugh at the amateurs. i crafted what was intended to be a snarky response but ended up digressing myself with my own long winded verbosity.
so. over two weeks, 20 emails (20 emails?!), and a foolproof plan involving four friends in three separate states, i assured myself that the odds of becoming the next ripped from the headlines episode of law and order were tolerable. i told him to meet me at 1100 in the arena district at a low key bar designed for such tawdry trysts. of course, that was the night that all the middle aged, former hippies came out to play creating a loud, crowded, not at all low key atmosphere. so i left at 1110. yes, i know i told you 1115. what are you going to do? refuse to fuck me?
i came home and explained the situation to my friends. being nicer than i am, they pointed out that since it was late on a saturday night in the arena district, traffic was likely a bitch and he couldn't find a spot to park and i should have at least waited 30-45 minutes. in the comfort of my own home while wearing fuzzy slippers instead of four inch heels, i could admit to them that i might have acted a touch hasty in leaving. but i'd be a disgrace to my gender if i wasn't able to spin the entire evening to make it all his fault.
after only ten words:
wow. you sure fooled me. i actually showed up. whatever.
as you can see:
"Anyway, I do suck and you don't have to grant me anything except to believe that I had no intention of standing you up, or being late, or otherwise fucking up your Saturday night. Any degree of forgiveness would be great, but I think your "whatever" is likely a justified final word in the matter."
i succeeded.
so i wrote back to cut through the shit and say that after two weeks and a failed attempt to meet, it's ridiculous to continue as we had been. it may not have been the most erotic thing he's ever read, but honestly dante, would you have preferred to jack off to my email or actually come over to fuck me? ........... actually, don't answer that. so i gave him my number, told him to call me, and we'll see what happens. so he called. and since his voice didn't sound anything like a ketchup and pubic hair masturbater, i gave him my address, called my friends, and grabbed a bottle of vodka that i proceeded to consume while getting dressed and being berated by my friends.
so, he came over and we quickly realized that the combined strength of our will wasn't enough to force the sun to set at noon. and even though talking politics is the equivalent of talking dirty to me, the silliness of the situation just wasn't making me hot. now, granted i was pretty inebriated, and dante insists that this is an indication that my memory of the day won't be as crystal clear as his faulty memory, but i do remember that he was the whining about being sober. i perked right up with an offer of rot-gut vodka. three or four shots later, i did not say "this is as drunk as i'm going to get, so this is your last chance" and he did not "flinch" or "try to get comfortable". what happened is that i sat down and said "wow, i'm drunk" and he said "finally" and then grabbed me and started kissing me. i remember this because in my drunken frame of mind i thought that was a little shady and was going to shove him away. but, ahem, i opted against that course of action.
i'm sure most women will commiserate on some level the apprehension to allow a man you've just met to take a glance at your cellulite ridden, non waxed butt in the unforgiving light of day. however, now that the entire internet is under the impression that i'm a boring lay with mundane body image problems, it's unlikely that you'll need to worry about my quirks, anal or otherwise.
Alright, we'll have to agree to disagree as to who kissed whom first. I will concede that I made the motion for alcohol. And to be fair, I thought "wow I'm drunk" was Katie being sarcastically cute and trying to get something to happen--not honesty brought on by a third of a bottle of vodka. Maybe I was going for a hug, saw a vulnerability and made a move. I do remember that once we locked lips I was pretty determined not to let go until we were well underway, lest she realized how ridiculous the whole situation was. By the way, Katie is not and was not a boring lay, nor does she have body image problem, lest there was any confusion. And she's got a cute butt, shaved or otherwise.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
A casual encounter--seriously! Part II
The Internet is full of sex. That's what it's for. But can you use it to actually get some? That was my experiment. And when I last left off (Part I) I had seemingly missed my chance. I had meant to post part II right afterwards, but I've been far too busy having sex. And while Katie is a pretty good sport about most everything I've subjected her to, she's pretty adamant about me not blogging during sex. I can't even briefly check my mail on the laptop while she's going down. Consequently I've had to chose between the internet and sex, and while there's rapidly less and less that the internet can't replace, I'm less optimistic in my waiting on my 1990's promise from Dennis Miller:
Sunday, February 12 I wake up mid-morning after having gone out to a bar for a casual encounter that did not come to pass. I finish up the last 20 pages of "Life of Pi" and trying to decide whether there's something compelling me to get out of bed. There really isn't, but I'd drug my laptop to bed with me the night before to write Katie her apology for having inadvertently stood her up. So I decided to check to see if I got a response. For better or worse I had. It was neither forgiving nor accusatory nor reconciliatory nor anything useful. It was in summary this:
The plus side to meeting your potential insignificant other during the daylight is, as Katie pointed out, that CSI cases don't take place during the day. The downside, as became glaringly apparent throughout our encounter, is that the goddamn sun is shining. Now I don't know what your experience with blind dates is, but there is virtually nothing you can do to get around the fact that it will be really awkward. This was the first time for me to be on a casual encounter (well, a planned one). It was her first blind date ever. So how do we meet? I have to phone her to come out to my car because the visitor code on the gate won't work and then drive her in the Ohio cold back to her apartment. Really hot.
So we're sitting on the couch discussing Ohio politics, what we want to be when we grow up, and generic small talk. It's fun, but palpable sexual tension doesn't quite describe it. Again, the daylight didn't help. Then there's the issue of the fact that we were completely sober. Don't get me wrong, Katie's a cutie and I'm... uhm, fairly tall.
Unable to block out the sun, we attacked problem #2 with shots of cheap vodka while we talked. Aside from the problems aforementioned we were developing another one; we sorta liked each other. Not a liability, per se, but not very conducive for casual sex. Time was running out as her meeting for work was looming. We were very awkwardly cuddled on the couch and on our third shot of vodka. I'm not quite sure the direct quote, but her sentiments were something to the effect of "this is as drunk as I'm going to get, so this is your last chance to make anything happen." I think I flinched, or maybe was trying to get comfortable on the couch. Whatever it was, she was moving my way, so we hit face to face and started making out.
Not to "yada yada yada" through the sex, but it's not as if anything ever works well enough to commit the script to memory. It was good fun: nervous anticipation of kissing, stripping a partner's layer, kissing some more, repeat until naked. Nothing kinky, nothing to throw anyone for a loop, nothing out of a traditional order, and nothing that would cause anyone to flip out. That said she only flipped out a little.
She was, by her own admission, fearful of anal sex. Fair enough, it's never really appealed to me either. But now it appeared to extend to an entire fear of me catching a glimpse of her butt. Oh well, a few little quirks are cute. Anyway, we were having sex missionary position, the theme of the afternoon being nothing that would offend the sexual sensibilities of a devout Catholic (other than the random hook-up of two people who'd formally met 90 minutes prior). At some point however, she'd suddenly hit her limit and threw on the brakes mid-coitus. Not that the sex was bad, or at least that wasn't her complaint, but had just sobered up too much and was dismayed by the ridiculous situation she'd found herself in. (I would later find out that she'd finished off 1/3 of a bottle herself before I'd opened the door.) We stopped short, put on some pants (our own pants even... still keeping things customary), and went back in the living room to see what we could make of the mid-afternoon.
Sobered up and settled down, we decided that the sex was at least as fun as it was awkward, we liked each other's company, and that we weren't bothered with love or marriage or commitment. It was thus agreed that we should try our hand at the casual encounter thing again, and maybe mix it with date or something similar.
So is it a craigslist fairytale? Didn't quite fit the casual encounter ideal, but I'm counting it as a success story. Not only that, but one to be continued...
Scientists estimate by the end of this century, via the means of virtual reality, a man will be able to stimulate making love to any woman he wants through his television set. You know, folks, the day an unemployed ironworker can lie in his BarcaLounger with a Foster’s in one hand and a channel-flicker in the other and fuck Claudia Schiffer for $19.95, it’s gonna make crack look like Sanka, all right.Kinda makes you want to sing along with Conan O'Brien, "In the year two-thousand..." Damn scientists had better get cracking, as the demand curve for the Claudia Schiffer market get's a touch slimmer every year. Anywho, sex, craiglist, the promise made complete...
Sunday, February 12 I wake up mid-morning after having gone out to a bar for a casual encounter that did not come to pass. I finish up the last 20 pages of "Life of Pi" and trying to decide whether there's something compelling me to get out of bed. There really isn't, but I'd drug my laptop to bed with me the night before to write Katie her apology for having inadvertently stood her up. So I decided to check to see if I got a response. For better or worse I had. It was neither forgiving nor accusatory nor reconciliatory nor anything useful. It was in summary this:
This is getting vaguely ridiculous and we need to either meet in person to decide if there's enough of a spark to actually fuck or stop emailing altogether...Not exactly the most flowery of erotica and a strange ultimatum to say the least. But who am I to pick a fight at this point. She continues:
Ideally what will happen is you'll call before 11:00, I'll give you directions to my apartment, we'll meet, joke around, the sexual tension will be palpable, we'll fall into bed for a while, and I'll still have time to go to my meeting.The only way to make a casual sex ultimatum hotter and less stressful is to impose a deadline. But the ideal, as described, is what happened. Well, more or less--but as far as unrealistic ideals go, I'd say we came reasonably close. Okay, she did miss her meeting for one, but let me back up...
The plus side to meeting your potential insignificant other during the daylight is, as Katie pointed out, that CSI cases don't take place during the day. The downside, as became glaringly apparent throughout our encounter, is that the goddamn sun is shining. Now I don't know what your experience with blind dates is, but there is virtually nothing you can do to get around the fact that it will be really awkward. This was the first time for me to be on a casual encounter (well, a planned one). It was her first blind date ever. So how do we meet? I have to phone her to come out to my car because the visitor code on the gate won't work and then drive her in the Ohio cold back to her apartment. Really hot.
So we're sitting on the couch discussing Ohio politics, what we want to be when we grow up, and generic small talk. It's fun, but palpable sexual tension doesn't quite describe it. Again, the daylight didn't help. Then there's the issue of the fact that we were completely sober. Don't get me wrong, Katie's a cutie and I'm... uhm, fairly tall.
Unable to block out the sun, we attacked problem #2 with shots of cheap vodka while we talked. Aside from the problems aforementioned we were developing another one; we sorta liked each other. Not a liability, per se, but not very conducive for casual sex. Time was running out as her meeting for work was looming. We were very awkwardly cuddled on the couch and on our third shot of vodka. I'm not quite sure the direct quote, but her sentiments were something to the effect of "this is as drunk as I'm going to get, so this is your last chance to make anything happen." I think I flinched, or maybe was trying to get comfortable on the couch. Whatever it was, she was moving my way, so we hit face to face and started making out.
Not to "yada yada yada" through the sex, but it's not as if anything ever works well enough to commit the script to memory. It was good fun: nervous anticipation of kissing, stripping a partner's layer, kissing some more, repeat until naked. Nothing kinky, nothing to throw anyone for a loop, nothing out of a traditional order, and nothing that would cause anyone to flip out. That said she only flipped out a little.
She was, by her own admission, fearful of anal sex. Fair enough, it's never really appealed to me either. But now it appeared to extend to an entire fear of me catching a glimpse of her butt. Oh well, a few little quirks are cute. Anyway, we were having sex missionary position, the theme of the afternoon being nothing that would offend the sexual sensibilities of a devout Catholic (other than the random hook-up of two people who'd formally met 90 minutes prior). At some point however, she'd suddenly hit her limit and threw on the brakes mid-coitus. Not that the sex was bad, or at least that wasn't her complaint, but had just sobered up too much and was dismayed by the ridiculous situation she'd found herself in. (I would later find out that she'd finished off 1/3 of a bottle herself before I'd opened the door.) We stopped short, put on some pants (our own pants even... still keeping things customary), and went back in the living room to see what we could make of the mid-afternoon.
Sobered up and settled down, we decided that the sex was at least as fun as it was awkward, we liked each other's company, and that we weren't bothered with love or marriage or commitment. It was thus agreed that we should try our hand at the casual encounter thing again, and maybe mix it with date or something similar.
So is it a craigslist fairytale? Didn't quite fit the casual encounter ideal, but I'm counting it as a success story. Not only that, but one to be continued...
Sunday, February 12, 2006
A Casual Encounter...No seriously! Part I
Okay, it's not at all casual and it's not at all serious. But it is sex and it is due to craigslist. Cheers Craig.
Again I've been a little lacking in my posting, but it's been largely been because I've been hard at work to bring you this story. Yes a story of a craigslist casual encounter. It was by no means easy, by no means traditional, and there much much more story than sex. But the story is memorable, to say the least.
As you may recall, I posted a craigslist CE post under the title "If I'm Half as Good in Bed as I am at Long Winded Rants." It debut with little acclaim, aside from a few people trying to peddle internet porn who wrote me. But after a bit I received a bite from someone who seemed to be real, who wrote:
Your ad caught my eye. Was it because I like being spanked, bondage, oral sex, healthy sexual appetites, big dicks, tall men, or all of the above?
Extraordinarily promising, but it was not to be, as she never wrote back after my response. My theory is that she googled me and decided that she could do without the publicity of having her sex blogged. But some day 500 years into the future I'm pretty sure my uncovered blog will be the part of a graduate thesis paper with the title: "Mating habits of the early 21st Century American Internet User" and it will be Molly's loss to not be a part of it.
A week later though, a new someone named Katie dropped me off an email. And though I'd love to share with you the entirety of our email correspondence (and maybe will pick out some highlights for a future post) the total when I now copy and paste into Word consists of 20 emails, 40 pages, 17,438 words and 97,018 characters. So yeah, Katie and I have talked. Which is why I haven't been doing as much blogging. I know, it's a bit selfish of me to expend so much energy on one person when my writing was just starting to get a fan base, but this was an opportunity not to pass up... a documented successful story of a craigslist casual encounter. Oh yeah, and sex. Sex is cool.
I fought hard to gain Katie's trust as she was pretty sure I was going to turn her into a CSI or a made for TV movie where our innocent heroine succumbs to the vile temptations of Internet boys. Eventually we made plans to meet at her favorite bar on a Saturday night, with the caveat that either of us could nix the entire shebang at any time.
Sadly, the gods conspired against me, and like some horrendous teen coming of age movie, I was comically thwarted before I even had a chance to make my case. On the way out the door for our meeting, the house phone rang. A very uncharacteristic thing for the phone to do, as I'm not horribly popular (must be all the hours spent writing rambling blogs). It was a friend I'd been promising to not blow off, but had been blowing off anyway, who now was having some sort of sobby Valentine's season crisis with a lousy husband. I did what I could to console and make it out of there, but I was definitely running late. A mile drive later I realize I have no idea where I'm going and have left the directions and the name of the place in the printer. All right, turn around, get the directions, let's try this again.
I finally arrive at the bar, only about 10 minutes late and only mildly panicking that she's going to give up and flee--or hook up with some other guy. But before I could so much as get parked, I realized I had absolutely no cash on me, and the guy collecting for parking wasn't giving any breaks. Stupid, stupid! So I had to find an ATM. For those of you familiar with Columbus's Arena District, please explain to me why there are no gas stations and no ATM's anywhere within a mile of the whole area. I mean, hundreds of thousands must be spent there every week, and not a single bank? A disorienting drive around part of the short north and I finally found a bank... My branch even. And yes, I was a little excited at the prospect of saving $4 in ATM fees even as the opportunity for sex was slipping away. Of course there was no ATM. Son-of-a... Drive around Columbus a bit more, find a gas station, get the cash, drive back to park in the arena district, half trot over to our meeting place. It's 11:25, much less forgivably late, especially to make someone wait who thinks you're going to stand them up, kill them, or be a 40 year old pervert.
I get inside, and it's packed. Okay, I've seen one picture of Katie, and I know the vital stats, but I have no idea how I'm going to find her. So I do the only things I can think to do... pace up and down the bar trying to make eye contact with random women, hoping that at some point there'll be some mutual recognition and I'll be able to shmooze my way into a forgiveness. So I fight my way from one end of the bar to the other, blatantly making eye contact with almost every girl I pass. I'm pretty sure by my third trip back and forth I was probably less popular than I've ever been--and that's saying something. So I eventually gave up actively looking, grabbed a beer, and tried to enjoy the styling of the jam band on stage and the atmosphere of a pretty fun bar.
Alas, time passed, as did a few more beers, and it looked like the casual encounter was not to be. And though I had a few laughs and a few dances and a general good time, I was a touched bummed. The fear that it was my fault was verified when I got home around 3 am to find the most concise of Katie's emails to date:
"Ah, fuck me," I thought. Rather than crash I jotted out a last ditch apology explanation at 3:10 AM, hit the pillow and went to sleep. Today, everything is worked out. Which is to say it's also strange, improbable, funny, and a long story. Unfortunately it's late and this is already wordy, so I'm going to save it for another time. I promise though, the next message will contain some scenes of sex. Hey, if you think the suspense is killing you, try 20 emails over 13 days.
Again I've been a little lacking in my posting, but it's been largely been because I've been hard at work to bring you this story. Yes a story of a craigslist casual encounter. It was by no means easy, by no means traditional, and there much much more story than sex. But the story is memorable, to say the least.
As you may recall, I posted a craigslist CE post under the title "If I'm Half as Good in Bed as I am at Long Winded Rants." It debut with little acclaim, aside from a few people trying to peddle internet porn who wrote me. But after a bit I received a bite from someone who seemed to be real, who wrote:
Your ad caught my eye. Was it because I like being spanked, bondage, oral sex, healthy sexual appetites, big dicks, tall men, or all of the above?
Extraordinarily promising, but it was not to be, as she never wrote back after my response. My theory is that she googled me and decided that she could do without the publicity of having her sex blogged. But some day 500 years into the future I'm pretty sure my uncovered blog will be the part of a graduate thesis paper with the title: "Mating habits of the early 21st Century American Internet User" and it will be Molly's loss to not be a part of it.
A week later though, a new someone named Katie dropped me off an email. And though I'd love to share with you the entirety of our email correspondence (and maybe will pick out some highlights for a future post) the total when I now copy and paste into Word consists of 20 emails, 40 pages, 17,438 words and 97,018 characters. So yeah, Katie and I have talked. Which is why I haven't been doing as much blogging. I know, it's a bit selfish of me to expend so much energy on one person when my writing was just starting to get a fan base, but this was an opportunity not to pass up... a documented successful story of a craigslist casual encounter. Oh yeah, and sex. Sex is cool.
I fought hard to gain Katie's trust as she was pretty sure I was going to turn her into a CSI or a made for TV movie where our innocent heroine succumbs to the vile temptations of Internet boys. Eventually we made plans to meet at her favorite bar on a Saturday night, with the caveat that either of us could nix the entire shebang at any time.
Sadly, the gods conspired against me, and like some horrendous teen coming of age movie, I was comically thwarted before I even had a chance to make my case. On the way out the door for our meeting, the house phone rang. A very uncharacteristic thing for the phone to do, as I'm not horribly popular (must be all the hours spent writing rambling blogs). It was a friend I'd been promising to not blow off, but had been blowing off anyway, who now was having some sort of sobby Valentine's season crisis with a lousy husband. I did what I could to console and make it out of there, but I was definitely running late. A mile drive later I realize I have no idea where I'm going and have left the directions and the name of the place in the printer. All right, turn around, get the directions, let's try this again.
I finally arrive at the bar, only about 10 minutes late and only mildly panicking that she's going to give up and flee--or hook up with some other guy. But before I could so much as get parked, I realized I had absolutely no cash on me, and the guy collecting for parking wasn't giving any breaks. Stupid, stupid! So I had to find an ATM. For those of you familiar with Columbus's Arena District, please explain to me why there are no gas stations and no ATM's anywhere within a mile of the whole area. I mean, hundreds of thousands must be spent there every week, and not a single bank? A disorienting drive around part of the short north and I finally found a bank... My branch even. And yes, I was a little excited at the prospect of saving $4 in ATM fees even as the opportunity for sex was slipping away. Of course there was no ATM. Son-of-a... Drive around Columbus a bit more, find a gas station, get the cash, drive back to park in the arena district, half trot over to our meeting place. It's 11:25, much less forgivably late, especially to make someone wait who thinks you're going to stand them up, kill them, or be a 40 year old pervert.
I get inside, and it's packed. Okay, I've seen one picture of Katie, and I know the vital stats, but I have no idea how I'm going to find her. So I do the only things I can think to do... pace up and down the bar trying to make eye contact with random women, hoping that at some point there'll be some mutual recognition and I'll be able to shmooze my way into a forgiveness. So I fight my way from one end of the bar to the other, blatantly making eye contact with almost every girl I pass. I'm pretty sure by my third trip back and forth I was probably less popular than I've ever been--and that's saying something. So I eventually gave up actively looking, grabbed a beer, and tried to enjoy the styling of the jam band on stage and the atmosphere of a pretty fun bar.
Alas, time passed, as did a few more beers, and it looked like the casual encounter was not to be. And though I had a few laughs and a few dances and a general good time, I was a touched bummed. The fear that it was my fault was verified when I got home around 3 am to find the most concise of Katie's emails to date:
To: dante.hunter@gmail.com
Date: Feb 11, 2006 11:32 PM
Subject: Re: craigslist ad
wow. you sure fooled me. i actually showed up. whatever."Ah, fuck me," I thought. Rather than crash I jotted out a last ditch apology explanation at 3:10 AM, hit the pillow and went to sleep. Today, everything is worked out. Which is to say it's also strange, improbable, funny, and a long story. Unfortunately it's late and this is already wordy, so I'm going to save it for another time. I promise though, the next message will contain some scenes of sex. Hey, if you think the suspense is killing you, try 20 emails over 13 days.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Red State Nation
Sorry I've been a week without posting. And this post isn't new material either, I'll confess. I've been traveling, and I promise to have a new story soon. Anyway...
Every summer since 1999, the Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Newsgroup has held a summer short story contest, where amateurs are encouraged to submit a <500 word spanking fiction story. In recent years the quality has gone down, and the site administration has faultered, but the idea still seems good. Of course, there still haven't been awards (they're unofficial, non-financial) given from last summer, when we're now closer to the next. But there are reviews for essays on the site with an award ceremony planned soon. I invite you to read some, as there are a few gems, and they're only 500 words tops. And better yet, submit your own story when next summer comes around and raise the quality of the postings. Of course, if you just want to read my contribution, I've posted a copy of it below. It was inspired while reading "What's the Matter With Kansas" by Thomas Frank. A good book, but nothing to do with spanking, FYI...
Every summer since 1999, the Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Newsgroup has held a summer short story contest, where amateurs are encouraged to submit a <500 word spanking fiction story. In recent years the quality has gone down, and the site administration has faultered, but the idea still seems good. Of course, there still haven't been awards (they're unofficial, non-financial) given from last summer, when we're now closer to the next. But there are reviews for essays on the site with an award ceremony planned soon. I invite you to read some, as there are a few gems, and they're only 500 words tops. And better yet, submit your own story when next summer comes around and raise the quality of the postings. Of course, if you just want to read my contribution, I've posted a copy of it below. It was inspired while reading "What's the Matter With Kansas" by Thomas Frank. A good book, but nothing to do with spanking, FYI...
Red State Nation
A tiny part of Trisha considered herself lucky. Unlike her male peers, at least she wasn't being forced to die in some horrid war in Iran, Venezuela, China, Israel, North Korea or a dozen other countries not really on her mind at this moment.
"Trisha, you were found guilty of interstate distribution of illegal propaganda by a United States' court, and are to now be sentenced to 25 strokes of the cane. Do you have any comment before your sentence?"
"I love big brother," came to her mind, but she held her tongue and replied simply, "no sir."
Trisha was in fact guilty of distributing her manifesto detailing the history of her corrupted government, its culpability in corporate scandals, and the deliberate swindling of workers dating back to Ronald Reagan--now virtually a patron saint of American politics. The piece was a work in progress ever since her introduction to muckraking and a Gender Studies graduate degree at Harvard, one of the last holdouts of liberal academia. That combined with her doctorate in public policy barely qualified her to the life of another American slave, commuting in her Neon through 70 miles of suburbia to sit in a desk manipulating numbers for some insurance company.
Now she was carrying out her sentence as the first person convicted under the new federal American Patriotism and Loyalty Act. Corporal punishment had been recognized as neither cruel nor unusual by precedent set decades earlier, but few had predicted it ever being used in a non-violent case. But lest the desperately poor ever realize their candidates were mainly serving the pockets of the filthy rich, grandstanding must progress ever further against the alleged evils of liberalism.
Trisha was presently dressed in an orange regulation button top that barely covered her belly and red cotton panties. A few steps' climb was made to her metal podium and she was bound first by ankles, then folded across the cold top and wrists fastened to its front. She tried to humor herself in the irony that this nation of God-fearing Americans would likely soon be masturbating en masse to her martyrdom as they watched live on Fox-Span webcast her white curvy butt turn red and blue striped, contrast against her tan, long legs.
Trish's legs were bound just barely enough to permit a guard's single-motion removal of her underpants to her ankles. As she tried not to think about it, she inadvertently made eye contact with the camera, and her face flushed bright red. A microphone was placed in front of her to capture her anguish, displayed in the form of a moaning, "Oww!" as a thin cane deftly dug and rebounded deep into the meaty middle of her rear.
"One!" went up the cheer of the gathering of well-dressed businessmen, privileged to be well connected to Republican leadership for prime seats. Trisha projected a glare of outrage through her bangs into the camera and ground her teeth as a second stroke rebounded with a loud thwack.
The End
© Copyright Dante Hunter 2005
Reviews
Sir Hal
The author of this story really put a lot of work into it. This was not a easy story to construct. I checked by TV Guide channel but the station is not available in my area. What scares me, is this might not be fiction, the way things are going. I enjoyed the word pictures that the writer painted for us in this story. This story reminded me of a book by Angus Balfour, Shades of Singapore. I don't know if it still in print or not. I sure hope that this writer continues to write for us. I know that I will be looking for more stories from this writer.
SG <kitten_klaws(at)webtv(dot)net>
I read through this story a number of times and found the ending to always be a turn-on despite the unseemly realism of this fictitious fantasy. I wouldn't mind discovering Ann Coulter in a similar scenario in a story entitled Blue State Nation. Whip it good!
Poiesia <poiesia(at)gmail(dot)com>
I enjoyed this story. It was well written, thorough, satirical and maybe more dead on than is comfortable to think. The cynical truisms made this a very identifiable piece and the story is original in situation and setting. I really, really enjoyed this story.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Sugasm Volume #18
Odds are high that you've found your way here through Sugasm. Well now you can find your way back.
For the rest of you, Sugasm is a weekly compilation by Sam Sugar of Sugarbank.com of clever filthy musings by fellow bloggers. Well this week's featured my post, "Dante's Guide to Cybersex–Part II: Descriptive Writing" from last week. It also included a bunch of other folks' stuff. Though I haven't yet, I hope to read through all of them, and comment when I can. Anyway, without further ado:
T he best of the blogs by the bloggers who blog them (this week starting with the letter 'S'):
- Sex Type Thing (chaosnoir.blogspot.com)
- Six Girls Skinny-dipping on Abby Winters (iloveabbeywinters.com)
- Coach T…..Chapter Two ( whatsexmaycome.blogspot.com)
- Sometimes You Just Miss Having A Penis ( berkeleybiboy.blogspot.com)
- Strapping One On? (alwaysarousedgirl.blogspot.com )
- Tangled up (lumpesse.com)
- The Listening Brief ( gentlygently.blogspot.com)
- True Secret: A Night With A Star (secretbrain.blogspot.com )
- Vixen, In All Her Sultry, Devilish, Glory (tirepaddle.com)
- Brett and Hiromi interview themselves (sexblo.gs)
- Hot teen lesbian sex on Sapphic Erotica ( simply-sapphicerotica.com)
- Condom Conversation… (shayssexcolumn)
- Cherished (ambientstorm.blogspot.com)
- Dante's Guide to Cybersex–Part II: Descriptive Writing (damneddante.blogspot.com)
- Darkness (nyc-urban-gypsy.blogspot.com )
- Exactly where I want you… (emergingontheotherside.blogspot.com )
- Expectations (swelteringcelt.com)
- Father Knows Best (theholidaylife.blogspot.com)
- Fucking Wifey To Make Me Jealous (radicalvixen.com)
- How do you jack-off? ( whatsyourpleasure.blogspot.com)
- Join the Sugasm?
- How to Get a Killer Lapdance ( sugarbank.com)
- Hot teen lesbian sex on Sapphic Erotica (simply-sapphicerotica.com )
- I might like you bettah if we shaved togethah (realadultsex.com )
- KITKAST #1.12 - AVN 1/2, Howard Stern and Porn Battle Kits (kitkast.com )
- Masturbation (sexinga.blogspot.com)
- Mindfucking and Oral Service (talkingdirty.blogspot.com)
- Men: What Are Your Best Blowjob Tips? (sexeteria.blogspot.com)
- More angie6969 (eroticandy.blogspot.com )
- My best fuck (damnjezebel.com)
- Phone ( anyonesgirl.blogspot.com)
- My Fun Night at Work (MOCK POST) (tinastrangeworld.blogspot.com )
- Realizing Mortality (bikersballsandteacherstits.blogspot.com )
Friday, January 20, 2006
If I'm half as good in bed as I am at long winded rants...
Thus began my most recent posting to craigslist Columbus Casual Encounters . I don't expect it to work, but at very least I hope to lure someone in to responding and see what I can do from there. (I've been taking all of my advice from the Single women reading my blog, got any advice? Anyway, without further ado, my posting:
If I'm half as good in bed as I am at long winded rants...
Reply to: pers-126887406@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-01-20, 1:38AM EST
Date: 2006-01-20, 1:38AM EST
...well, yeah, you'll get the idea. Anyway, if you're looking for a CE, here's 10 things worth knowing about me.
10) I'm very literate--smarter than I am sexy even, which is not to say that I'm not good looking. I feel that good sex is at least half mental and that the brain is the largest erogenous zone in the human body and should be treated accordingly.
9) I'm 6'0", 175 lbs, 24, white, straight, single, and disease & drug free.
8) I have a 7.5" penis. I really don't know whether that's important to you (or any woman for that matter) but I can't see any disadvantages to letting you know.
7) I care about my sexual health (and yours) at least as much as you do. I won't have unprotected sex with a "casual encounter." And my history of casual encounters/one night stands in single digits... not a nympho.
6) I will spank you. I know, you haven't yet ask to be spanked, but in my experience there's a high percentage of women who secretly want to be spanked during sex/foreplay who won't ever confess such a fantasy. A quick slap to your bottom during foreplay will give you the chance to let me know whether or not you appreciate it. If you don't, I'll cut it out no problem, and there's still 5 more reasons to read.
5) You don't know me. Your friends don't know me. No one does, as I've only been in Columbus a few months and unless you're one of the people living in my building or at my job, anonymity shouldn't be a problem. I don't go to OSU and never have.
4) I'm not looking for a relationship, but am not such a callous bastard that I don't care about human beings, their feelings, or their needs. I'm looking for something casual without commitment, not fleeting or abusive.
3) Oral sex is fun, giving is fun, receiving is better, and both at once is hard to top. Bondage, whipped cream, tickling, teasing, role-play, and mild dom/sub are certainly part of my sexual vocabulary, so there's little you could have in mind that I wouldn't consider. Vanila sex is fine too, but
2) I have enough patience and free time for an email relationship with someone I find interesting and literate and wouldn't blame anyone who didn't want to rush in.
1) I'll do everything on agreed upon terms, accept "no" for an answer at any point, and always make sure everything's safe, sane, risk-free, mutually enjoyable, and consensual.
Thanks for reading this far. I hope to hear back from you. And yes, I can send you a picture.
"Panties for Books" exchange
I know, this post I found doesn't compare with posts on the craigslist Best Of, but it definitely merits a best of Columbus mention, and at very least is worthy of my blog. And who knows, by reposting I may put our pride of the Buckeye babe in touch with a panty-loving philanthropist interested in putting her through college. If so, I'd like a copies of a few of the pics.
Want to buy my panties? OSU college girl - 20
Reply to: pers-126739263@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-01-19, 3:46PM EST
I'm not sure if this is allowed here, so if it isn't feel free to remove it and let me know the correct place. I'd never even heard of craigslist until recently.
I'm a 20 year old early education major at OSU (originally from southeastern ohio so i'm a country girl). I've vowed to save myself for the "right guy" (if that ever comes along) but need to make some money quick to help pay for books and all that other stuff i am forced to buy for school. I'm wanting to sell my panties and will deliver them to your mailbox or mail them and will ALSO provide a disc with pictures of me wearing them :). If interested, email me
Date: 2006-01-19, 3:46PM EST
I'm not sure if this is allowed here, so if it isn't feel free to remove it and let me know the correct place. I'd never even heard of craigslist until recently.
I'm a 20 year old early education major at OSU (originally from southeastern ohio so i'm a country girl). I've vowed to save myself for the "right guy" (if that ever comes along) but need to make some money quick to help pay for books and all that other stuff i am forced to buy for school. I'm wanting to sell my panties and will deliver them to your mailbox or mail them and will ALSO provide a disc with pictures of me wearing them :). If interested, email me
- this is in or around Campus
- no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
Anyone else hot for teacher? By the way, what do you suppose "deliver them to your mailbox or mail them" means?
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Happy birthday to me
I'm not usually one to celebrate my own birth... hell, I really didn't have any say or role in the process. But in this land of blogs, a little self-hype now and again is to be expected. Plus, it gives me another day without contributing anything new.
So if you're wondering what to get me, all I ask is that if you've read something on this blog that you've liked then wish me a happy birthday. And if you haven't read anything you like, allow me to recommend:
Guide to Cybersex Part 1
Guide to Cybersex Part 2
Tickling your fancy
or My First craigslist Casual Encounter Post
Alright, so I've wished myself a happy birthday, shamelessly self-promoted my site, avoided writing anything original, and begged for comments. Not a bad day. Time to go spend the rest of this birthday like the first one... try to find a teat to suck and then sleep for 10 hours. (I might or might not spit up on myself and run around naked; we'll see.)
So if you're wondering what to get me, all I ask is that if you've read something on this blog that you've liked then wish me a happy birthday. And if you haven't read anything you like, allow me to recommend:
Guide to Cybersex Part 1
Guide to Cybersex Part 2
Tickling your fancy
or My First craigslist Casual Encounter Post
Alright, so I've wished myself a happy birthday, shamelessly self-promoted my site, avoided writing anything original, and begged for comments. Not a bad day. Time to go spend the rest of this birthday like the first one... try to find a teat to suck and then sleep for 10 hours. (I might or might not spit up on myself and run around naked; we'll see.)
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Bugs Bunny is such a horndog.
There is little doubt that Bugs was sexual. Whether he was ogling a robotic lady rabbit or planting a big smooch on Yosemite Sam or Michael Jordan he had no problem operating as a sexual being. I’m not going to attempt to answer whether Bugs was straight, bi, or gay because Bugs didn’t attempt to fit himself into a category. He simply displayed his sexual nature cheerful and proud, never limiting his options or censoring his self-expression.
Bugs Bunny not only demonstrated sexuality, he demonstrated it through an unparalleled comfortable attitude to a wide range of preferences. Not only did he have no problem expressing bisexuality, but also he had no reservations about marrying within his gender. On separate occasions he loyally and uncomplainingly dressed the role of Elmer Fudd’s bride then groom.
It’s no secret transvestitism always came natural for Bugs. He has been sporting skirts, wigs, and makeup to foil foes since 1939. He never saw masculinity as a barrier, but instead challenged the binary oppositions and gendered norms by subverting sexual identity. Or he just got a kick out of dressing like a girl.I’m sure the claim will be made that he is operating out of necessity. But seriously, how many crises have cross-dressing as the sole remaining option. I predict that you won’t see anyone in “Die Hard 4” eluding terrorists through the use of tight padded sweater and golden curls. But then again John McClane is no Bugs Bunny.
On top of cross-dressing, this rambunctious rabbit has also been known to engage in age/role play as he willingly dons diapers and sucks a pacifier in order to spend some cuddle-time with a gorilla. Kinky. And I don’t think I even need to mention the sadistic nature of a hare that shows no mercy in walloping his advisory when he’s done with his cunning teasing and mind domination.
And who can forget the most blatant scene of cartoon sadomasochism in all of history. This is the episode in which our hero gets even with opera singer Giovanni Jones by conducting him to hold the final note interminably. Jones’ face goes beat red with pain, his suspenders give under pressure, and he’s forced to submit to this pain and humiliation of flower pattern boxers in front of a fully packed opera house. Someone really should have taught Bugs about safe-words before he brought down the house.
But the era of political correctness has forcibly neutered Bugs faster than a stray on Bob Barker’s
porch. It began with Lola Bunny—Bugs’ cute love interest introduced in Space Jam. Not only did she serve as the sole legitimate outlet for Bugs’ lust, but she also came bearing her own politically correct warning: "Don't call me Doll.”In the new “Back in Action” Lola's gone and BB is left with only three seconds in drag—a mere homage to his more liberated past—before being shot down as no longer relevant. Bugs is still talented but obviously censored and when he's paired with stilted Jenna Elfman and honorary Toon/tool Brendan Fraser he has to pull out all the stops just to make this film bearable.
Watch for the next Looney Toons movie in which Daffy has lost his lisp and Pepe “smelly Frenchman” le Pew takes no for an answer. Thank God it’s still okay to make fun of rednecks. Though am I the only one wondering what it is Elmer Fudd’s gun is overcompensating for?
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Michelle shows off her sexy armpits
"Michelle" shows off her sexy armpits.
1:19:11 AM Michelle my name really is michelle... i won't tell you my last name though
1:19:22 AM Dante fair enough, i'm not planning on stalking
1:19:33 AM Michelle lol
1:19:58 AM Michelle i was intrigued by your posting... i've always found erotica extremely stimulating
1:20:11 AM Michelle but i suck at writing it! lol
1:20:32 AM Dante it is... and i don't want a "casual encounter"... sex is always trouble, albeit interesting
1:21:04 AM Dante fair enough, but you had my interest anyway when you said you've got a fantasy that your husband doesn't share...
1:21:10 AM Michelle i don't know what i can do for you in return though.... like i said i am not good at the writing
1:21:28 AM Michelle well... yeah there's that... i have two kind of offbeat fetishes or fantasies
1:21:39 AM Michelle the first is to have a man dominate both me and my husband
1:21:45 AM Michelle not like whips and chains or anything
1:21:54 AM Michelle but psychological... humiliation even
1:22:19 AM Dante always fun... of course don't knock the whips and chains until you've tried it
1:22:26 AM Michelle i don't know if you're into the bi thing... but i'd even love to see my husband get fucked... or at the very least to have him lick my pussy clean after another man fills it
1:22:34 AM Michelle like i said... a bit off the beaten path!
1:23:36 AM Dante i suppose everyone's a bit bi... wouldn't be a fantasy that would top my list, but it would be wild
1:23:45 AM Dante did you ever tell him that one?
1:24:01 AM Michelle i mentioned it... he likes me to play with his ass while i blow him... he said he wasn't into it
1:24:12 AM Michelle i think the thing that really turns me on is having a man dominate us
1:24:19 AM Michelle make him watch me get fucked... etc
1:24:39 AM Dante understood... control games are fun, from either side
1:25:16 AM Michelle and the second fetish is a big one.. you'll think it's weird until you think about it... or maybe even after you do think about it ;)
1:25:37 AM Michelle i absolutely love to have my shaved underarms kissed and licked and touched....
1:25:45 AM Michelle now hold on... don't freak out if you're not into it!
1:26:02 AM Michelle first of all... i keep very very clean... it's not a dirty thing at all
1:26:09 AM Dante is that it? that's not weird? i've done that before with women.
1:26:22 AM Michelle really? a lot of guys think it's weird and gross
1:26:44 AM Michelle i've had some boyfriends who were really turned on by my body there... said they loved the curves... loved the taste of my sweat when i was excited
1:27:10 AM Dante actually it's much less weird if they're left fairly natural... just trimmed & not full of deodorant, perfumes and all the chemicals
1:27:41 AM Michelle yeah... i shave very smooth and don't wear deodorant... i don't need to (lucky i guess) but like i said i keep very clean
1:28:04 AM Dante i don't carry many reservations about where i put my tongue, provided it's not old, bacteria laden, not recently washed filth...
1:28:15 AM Michelle :)
1:28:22 AM Michelle for me this is related to the domination thing i think
1:28:34 AM Dante so yeah, i would definitely want to lick your armpits, especially if i knew it was turning you on
1:28:39 AM Michelle it's such an incredibly private part of a woman's body.... so sensitive and secret
1:29:08 AM Michelle to be held down and licked there while i'm getting fucked is to be totally and completely taken...
1:19:11 AM Michelle my name really is michelle... i won't tell you my last name though
1:19:22 AM Dante fair enough, i'm not planning on stalking
1:19:33 AM Michelle lol
1:19:58 AM Michelle i was intrigued by your posting... i've always found erotica extremely stimulating
1:20:11 AM Michelle but i suck at writing it! lol
1:20:32 AM Dante it is... and i don't want a "casual encounter"... sex is always trouble, albeit interesting
1:21:04 AM Dante fair enough, but you had my interest anyway when you said you've got a fantasy that your husband doesn't share...
1:21:10 AM Michelle i don't know what i can do for you in return though.... like i said i am not good at the writing
1:21:28 AM Michelle well... yeah there's that... i have two kind of offbeat fetishes or fantasies
1:21:39 AM Michelle the first is to have a man dominate both me and my husband
1:21:45 AM Michelle not like whips and chains or anything
1:21:54 AM Michelle but psychological... humiliation even
1:22:19 AM Dante always fun... of course don't knock the whips and chains until you've tried it
1:22:26 AM Michelle i don't know if you're into the bi thing... but i'd even love to see my husband get fucked... or at the very least to have him lick my pussy clean after another man fills it
1:22:34 AM Michelle like i said... a bit off the beaten path!
1:23:36 AM Dante i suppose everyone's a bit bi... wouldn't be a fantasy that would top my list, but it would be wild
1:23:45 AM Dante did you ever tell him that one?
1:24:01 AM Michelle i mentioned it... he likes me to play with his ass while i blow him... he said he wasn't into it
1:24:12 AM Michelle i think the thing that really turns me on is having a man dominate us
1:24:19 AM Michelle make him watch me get fucked... etc
1:24:39 AM Dante understood... control games are fun, from either side
1:25:16 AM Michelle and the second fetish is a big one.. you'll think it's weird until you think about it... or maybe even after you do think about it ;)
1:25:37 AM Michelle i absolutely love to have my shaved underarms kissed and licked and touched....
1:25:45 AM Michelle now hold on... don't freak out if you're not into it!
1:26:02 AM Michelle first of all... i keep very very clean... it's not a dirty thing at all
1:26:09 AM Dante is that it? that's not weird? i've done that before with women.
1:26:22 AM Michelle really? a lot of guys think it's weird and gross
1:26:44 AM Michelle i've had some boyfriends who were really turned on by my body there... said they loved the curves... loved the taste of my sweat when i was excited
1:27:10 AM Dante actually it's much less weird if they're left fairly natural... just trimmed & not full of deodorant, perfumes and all the chemicals
1:27:41 AM Michelle yeah... i shave very smooth and don't wear deodorant... i don't need to (lucky i guess) but like i said i keep very clean
1:28:04 AM Dante i don't carry many reservations about where i put my tongue, provided it's not old, bacteria laden, not recently washed filth...
1:28:15 AM Michelle :)
1:28:22 AM Michelle for me this is related to the domination thing i think
1:28:34 AM Dante so yeah, i would definitely want to lick your armpits, especially if i knew it was turning you on
1:28:39 AM Michelle it's such an incredibly private part of a woman's body.... so sensitive and secret
1:29:08 AM Michelle to be held down and licked there while i'm getting fucked is to be totally and completely taken...
Dante's Guide to Cybersex--Part II: Descriptive Writing
This is part II in a series of indeterminable length about cybersex. I'm writing it after having found very scant electronic resources discussing cybersex in a positive light, and fewer still talking about the nitty gritty and the nuances of this form of writing. (Oh, and I'm also being spurred on by encouragement and links from "Talking Dirty" and "Sexeteria". Thanks Katie & Sylvia Miss Syl for linking to Part I!)
There are some web pages that talk about cybersex in context of a cultural phenomenon, some that abhor the vices that accompany easily attainable pseudosex. And their commentaries are perfectly valid, but they leave open the entire nitche of "how" to have cybersex. "So what?" you ask. There are plenty of electronic "how-to" pages available with advice on writing erotica, using phone-text message shortcuts, drafting a dom/sub contract, correctly using trivial grammar rules, practicing ethical polyamory, and having good (or preferably great) sex. But there's very few places to find any hits as to the norms and expectations of cybersex. Mock it if you will, but in skilled hands I feel it's a fun, albeit lower class form of shared erotica, and that it is an art form that will eventually see its heyday. But back to task, as I stand before you not to praise cybersex, but to dissect it. Here goes, class:
Today, we will look at description in cybersex. Obviously since our medium is text it is important to use descriptive writing to appeal to the senses as in "higher" forms of erotica. But particularly in cybersex it can be a double edged sword in the wrong hand. So here are some rules, concepts, and things to bear in mind while "typing" the "virtual" pants off the "alledged" ladies:
1) A line should never be purely descriptive. You need to be in every sentence, and you need to do something, even if it's just a reaction. That way your partner will be able to react in turn, and so on. So never just write: I'm wearing a beer stained t-shirt, sweatpants, and white tube socks. Instead write: From my spot on the couch, I roll my t-shirt and sweatpants clad bod onto my side, to see if you're back with my Cheetos." Okay, don't write that either.
2) Don't tell; show. Obvious rule for any form of writing, but it's an important one not to forget. You should never use the word "69" for example. Instead, describe where your mouth is, where your partners is, and how they got there. And probably not all in one sentence; build your way there. Same goes for "sex", "bondage", "spanking", "orgasm", or any noun that's better replaced by the descriptive verbs that build up the concept.
3) Less is more. I know, my blog tends to ramble, so I'm one to talk, but being concise is somewhat key. A comma filled list of adjectives only tends to slow and clutter communication.
4) Make descriptions match your partner's fantasy. Guys, this means don't whip out a 10" penis. That's your fantasy, not hers, and frankly your candidness is embarrassing. Women on the other hand, feel free to give us an oversized dick. In fact, the more you describe about yourself, simply guessing at your partner's fantasies, the less you will conform to your fantasies. If you tell just tell a guy you're taking your bra off, by default (in his mind) your breasts and nipples will be the "right" size.
5) Don't skimp on the decor. It's a good way to start early on, by setting the scenery you can set the game--be it romantic, erotic, BDSM, role-playing, or something else. It can also be a way to position props you want your partner to use. By alluding to a dewy meadow, a sturdy oak headboard, a hottub, a jungle gym, candles, shag carpeting, bucket seats, a vat of pudding, etc. Again, even in a sentence mostly describing the scene, put yourself in it. Example: I pass the rows of desks toward the blackboard near where you're at your large desk grading papers and I tremble realizing you've already taken 'the board of education' off the wall behind you, trumps In a classroom with rows of desks and a blackboard you're sitting at your desk with a large paddle in hand. Agreed?
6) Describe your reaction. A low level film trick is when someone is delivering a line, the camera will often be on the other person, capturing their reaction. You should never just type: I'm so turned on or any common variation. That may fly in phonesex, where good delivery can bolster poor dialog, but not here. Give yourself facial expressions, pants and moans, bite your own lip, tug against your restraints, or do anything else to show appreciation. This is also a good cop-out for not having anything to add to the story.
7) Mind your language. You probably think this is only a guy warning, but I've had a woman (ex-girlfriend even) who, although she'd never begun to talk dirty in bed, had no problem during cybersex referring to thecritter between her legs (really virtually anything would work better here) as her "cunt." "Oh really?" I wanted to respond, "And what did it ever do to you to make you speak so ill of it." (And don't even though you could cite Vagina Monologues and tell me that the word's now part of female empowerment. I know the lady, and god help her she ain't that bright or empowered.) Anyway, just because your partner's willing/wanting cybersex doesn't mean they're turned on by shear vulgarities. As a rule of thumb, try to mirror the coarseness of your partners language and err on the safe side--alright, especially if you're a guy.
That's all for now, class. For homework read the following pages and be prepared to discuss improvements that could have been made for each cybersex session.
There are some web pages that talk about cybersex in context of a cultural phenomenon, some that abhor the vices that accompany easily attainable pseudosex. And their commentaries are perfectly valid, but they leave open the entire nitche of "how" to have cybersex. "So what?" you ask. There are plenty of electronic "how-to" pages available with advice on writing erotica, using phone-text message shortcuts, drafting a dom/sub contract, correctly using trivial grammar rules, practicing ethical polyamory, and having good (or preferably great) sex. But there's very few places to find any hits as to the norms and expectations of cybersex. Mock it if you will, but in skilled hands I feel it's a fun, albeit lower class form of shared erotica, and that it is an art form that will eventually see its heyday. But back to task, as I stand before you not to praise cybersex, but to dissect it. Here goes, class:
Today, we will look at description in cybersex. Obviously since our medium is text it is important to use descriptive writing to appeal to the senses as in "higher" forms of erotica. But particularly in cybersex it can be a double edged sword in the wrong hand. So here are some rules, concepts, and things to bear in mind while "typing" the "virtual" pants off the "alledged" ladies:
1) A line should never be purely descriptive. You need to be in every sentence, and you need to do something, even if it's just a reaction. That way your partner will be able to react in turn, and so on. So never just write: I'm wearing a beer stained t-shirt, sweatpants, and white tube socks. Instead write: From my spot on the couch, I roll my t-shirt and sweatpants clad bod onto my side, to see if you're back with my Cheetos." Okay, don't write that either.
2) Don't tell; show. Obvious rule for any form of writing, but it's an important one not to forget. You should never use the word "69" for example. Instead, describe where your mouth is, where your partners is, and how they got there. And probably not all in one sentence; build your way there. Same goes for "sex", "bondage", "spanking", "orgasm", or any noun that's better replaced by the descriptive verbs that build up the concept.
3) Less is more. I know, my blog tends to ramble, so I'm one to talk, but being concise is somewhat key. A comma filled list of adjectives only tends to slow and clutter communication.
4) Make descriptions match your partner's fantasy. Guys, this means don't whip out a 10" penis. That's your fantasy, not hers, and frankly your candidness is embarrassing. Women on the other hand, feel free to give us an oversized dick. In fact, the more you describe about yourself, simply guessing at your partner's fantasies, the less you will conform to your fantasies. If you tell just tell a guy you're taking your bra off, by default (in his mind) your breasts and nipples will be the "right" size.
5) Don't skimp on the decor. It's a good way to start early on, by setting the scenery you can set the game--be it romantic, erotic, BDSM, role-playing, or something else. It can also be a way to position props you want your partner to use. By alluding to a dewy meadow, a sturdy oak headboard, a hottub, a jungle gym, candles, shag carpeting, bucket seats, a vat of pudding, etc. Again, even in a sentence mostly describing the scene, put yourself in it. Example: I pass the rows of desks toward the blackboard near where you're at your large desk grading papers and I tremble realizing you've already taken 'the board of education' off the wall behind you, trumps In a classroom with rows of desks and a blackboard you're sitting at your desk with a large paddle in hand. Agreed?
6) Describe your reaction. A low level film trick is when someone is delivering a line, the camera will often be on the other person, capturing their reaction. You should never just type: I'm so turned on or any common variation. That may fly in phonesex, where good delivery can bolster poor dialog, but not here. Give yourself facial expressions, pants and moans, bite your own lip, tug against your restraints, or do anything else to show appreciation. This is also a good cop-out for not having anything to add to the story.
7) Mind your language. You probably think this is only a guy warning, but I've had a woman (ex-girlfriend even) who, although she'd never begun to talk dirty in bed, had no problem during cybersex referring to the
That's all for now, class. For homework read the following pages and be prepared to discuss improvements that could have been made for each cybersex session.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
I never thought it would happen to me...
Somehow, I've become a submissive. No, not in real life, but in my fiction. Well, "our" fiction. If you've been following my blog from the beginning (don't feel bad, no one has) you'll recall Pamela, ruler of my pants, who responded to the craigslist posting that sparked this blog. Pamela and I have kept up a string of emailing back and forth erotica, using of the d/s theme. For some reason it has been migrating more the the macabre, femdom, gothic, hypnotic, and occultist. Which wasn't a kink of mine, but I'm really enjoying her style, and I've been feeding into her fantasy. Maybe it's a touch weird, but I'm enjoying it. So if this type of writing is a fetish of yours and/or you know any other good authors of the genre, let me know. Of course I'm a bit intimidated to write her back in what is obviously her field of expertise considering how much Wiki-research I had to do just to complete the reading (you'll see). Here's two excerpts from her latest piece. (I know it's in second person, but you'll just have to cope.)
"Over the years, Dionysus' cult has been kept alive by the most loyal of his devotees, and ever since the early 90's those numbers have been swelling." Judging by the front of your coat, something else is swelling. "I am a Bacchae, Dante, and before the night is over, you'll be one as well. Tonight is your initiation and some of my dearest friends are going to help me out. Don't worry, you don't have to do much...just pace yourself. That's what it's all been about Boy Toy. The enchanted jeans, the torturous teasing, the hypnotic suggestion, all preparation intended to build up your endurance for tonight's ritual under the full moon.""Ready the sacrifice!" I shouted. James and Rob took you by the arms and laid you on top of the black altar. Then, before permitting you to move of your own free will, they buckled you down. Two belts over the wrists, two over the ankles, and one over your waist. So there you were left, spread eagle on the black altar of Dionysus, wearing nothing but a skimpy speedo and a look of severe terror.
Quickly you sat upright, and trembled. I kneeled down and handed you a drink. Running one hand over your brow to brush the hair from your eyes, I began to explain. "You were possessed by the sexual spirit of the god, Dionysus. All of us Bacchae have done it once...just part of initiation. I'm
very proud of you Dante...you were such a good host for the spirit." I ran my fingers through your hair, down, to cup the side of your face. "Everyone was so satisfied with you, so now you're one of us. You're a Bacchae now Dante. A creature of pure carnal lust and insatiable desire." Your eyes glowed as they starred deeply into mine. "I'm going to teach you so much. Pleasure as you've never felt before, and all of the most secret of occult skills that the cult of Dionysus possesses."
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Tickling your fancy
I found myself writing a piece of erotica the other day that included a scene of female masturbation. Now, I don't post much of my actual erotica here cause it's either not all that good, quite long, too personalized, or possibly something the good folks at blogspot would prefer I keep to myself. But I'm going to forego those objections and present you with a small excerpt, out of context, that I wrote for Michelle. Enjoy.
...Molly hurriedly unzipped her fly, yanked down slacks and panties a single handful, and stepped naked onto the tile. In her mind she was again alone, now with a sole priority. A hand found its way between her thighs and slid inside her wet sex. She began to draw herself a bath, never pausing from hammering out a fierce rhythm against her clit.
By the time she slid into the hot water her climax was imminent. She sank her fingers deep inside herself and started rubbing her G-spot. That did the trick. From her head to hips to her toes her body contracted, splashing water onto the tile floor. The warmth of the tub radiated through her and to all parts of her body in tiny waves. An arm draped outside the side of the tub kept her from drowning while her right hand continued to pump out more pleasure than she remembered her body capable. Her string of orgasms culminated in a final violent spasm. Her legs clamped shut on her hand, she let out a deep moan, and slid down the tub, letting her whole body submerge...
Watching or, better yet, commanding a woman get herself off is a personal kink of mine. Ergo, it tends to work itself into a good deal of my fiction. But in working on the passage I found it not a very easy subject to write. There's a number of potential pitfalls in writing sounds too medical, too euphemistically colloquial, too abbreviated, or too much like Twister. ("Right hand index finger - left side inner labia.") Maybe the same pitfalls exist in all types of sex writing, but this seemed particularly laborious. The writing ended up okay, although I'd appreciate any thoughts to the contrary. More importantly it did prompt a fun google search and subsequent browsing that yielded such internet gems as:
This Wikipedia debate on the topic of masturbation. Wikipedia is cool, but the self-proclaimed expert volunteer writers are creepy. This guy sounds like some blowhard on the Senate floor--only this Wiki-article is far less serious an issue:
God, that sure took the fun out of masturbation, didn't it? Luckily I found Pinky's World of Female Masturbation Euphemisms. The dork in me is still snickering at "Bisecting the Triangle" and "Double-Clicking the Mouse."
And of course there's Chris Bridge's page from HootIsland--my favorite place for funny sex. His list of euphemisms is much funnier and includes such gems as, "having a sushi party," "enjoying a little southern comfort," "pitching in the bush league," and of course "'just reading, Mom!'"
That's it from me kids. Enjoy yourselves!
...Molly hurriedly unzipped her fly, yanked down slacks and panties a single handful, and stepped naked onto the tile. In her mind she was again alone, now with a sole priority. A hand found its way between her thighs and slid inside her wet sex. She began to draw herself a bath, never pausing from hammering out a fierce rhythm against her clit.
By the time she slid into the hot water her climax was imminent. She sank her fingers deep inside herself and started rubbing her G-spot. That did the trick. From her head to hips to her toes her body contracted, splashing water onto the tile floor. The warmth of the tub radiated through her and to all parts of her body in tiny waves. An arm draped outside the side of the tub kept her from drowning while her right hand continued to pump out more pleasure than she remembered her body capable. Her string of orgasms culminated in a final violent spasm. Her legs clamped shut on her hand, she let out a deep moan, and slid down the tub, letting her whole body submerge...
Watching or, better yet, commanding a woman get herself off is a personal kink of mine. Ergo, it tends to work itself into a good deal of my fiction. But in working on the passage I found it not a very easy subject to write. There's a number of potential pitfalls in writing sounds too medical, too euphemistically colloquial, too abbreviated, or too much like Twister. ("Right hand index finger - left side inner labia.") Maybe the same pitfalls exist in all types of sex writing, but this seemed particularly laborious. The writing ended up okay, although I'd appreciate any thoughts to the contrary. More importantly it did prompt a fun google search and subsequent browsing that yielded such internet gems as:
This Wikipedia debate on the topic of masturbation. Wikipedia is cool, but the self-proclaimed expert volunteer writers are creepy. This guy sounds like some blowhard on the Senate floor--only this Wiki-article is far less serious an issue:
Your backwards logic reeks of ignorance. I never asserted that the image was not bizarre, only that it was appropriate for the article. The first amendment of thc constitution of the United States of America was created SPECIFICALLY to protect unpopular opinions, including the most tasteless ones. There is nothing "peripubescent" about a photograph of an erect male penis (in fact it may very well be stipulated that such an image is quite the opposite.) THERE IS NO ROOM FOR MORALITY IN A FACTUAL TEXT. Your opinion on the matter, and in fact any opinion on the matter (be it 99.999% of the contributors) is completely irrelevant. Where does it end? Should we take all of the textbooks of human biology and remove any reference to genitals? Should we go and get a copy of the esteemed classic novel "Ragtime" and remove the reference to one character's "great filamented spurts of jism that traced the air like bullets and then settled slowly over Evelyn in her bed like falling ticker tape"? And so on, and so on... I cannot continue restating the same thing over and over again because you are going to continue to disagree and have a complete lack of understanding on the issue at hand, which is that the *ONLY* criteria for inclusion of material in a factual text are thus: A.Is it relevant? B: is it factual? C: is it's inclusion beneficial? - any other considerations are irrelevant. The fact that you don't understand this makes you the one who does not belong here, my friend, and lest you think otherwise, I have been a steady contributor for well over a year now and I am not exiting any time soon. And now, in all seriousness, I am done with the conversation.
God, that sure took the fun out of masturbation, didn't it? Luckily I found Pinky's World of Female Masturbation Euphemisms. The dork in me is still snickering at "Bisecting the Triangle" and "Double-Clicking the Mouse."
And of course there's Chris Bridge's page from HootIsland--my favorite place for funny sex. His list of euphemisms is much funnier and includes such gems as, "having a sushi party," "enjoying a little southern comfort," "pitching in the bush league," and of course "'just reading, Mom!'"
That's it from me kids. Enjoy yourselves!
Most of these ads seem like nonsense to me too
I tend to check the craigslist casual encounters pretty frequently. Moreso since I started trying to revolve a blog around it. Some how this posting fell through my proofreading, and it's by far and away the best one I've read in some time. I'm sure she's got plenty of email to wade through, but I'll have to see if I can't get her attention. Or at least get her to read my blog. In case you haven't noticed, women using words like "moreso", "likeminded", or "vice versa" really turns me on.
Most of these ads seem like nonsense - w4m - 28
I don't have a particular type, but that is not to say I am into everyone. Some things I am not looking for:
Bi-sexual men
Men who will sleep with anyone- yes, I get this is the casual encounter section
Someone who is seriously drug (alcohol and marijuana are okay) and disease free.
One night stands- I can't plan for multiple encounters, but going into it a one time thing is not my goal. Once I open up the flood gates it's hard to stop and I'm not looking to rack up the numbers.
Someone completely insincere- I don't want your money nor do I want to marry you, but if I want to be treated like just a pussy I can go to a bar and get that.
Someone who wants to meet after one email- preferably I want to exchange emails, talk on the phone and take it from there.
A guy who feels oral sex is only to be received.
Some things I do like:
- Men who can deal with the fact that I'm 5'9"
- Someone who knows what they want and are able to express it.
- A guy who understands I am busy and like to have my own life, but also realizes I can make time for him and vice versa.
- A person who gets that my mind is as big of a turn on if not moreso than my body.
I realize this is the casual enounter section, but that does not mean random and risky sex to me. I take my sexual healthy seriously (yeah, it probably seems humorous), but I want that in someone else. I know I can not be alone in feeling that masturbation gets old and completely anonymous sex with someone I know nothing about is unfulfilling. I don't know if I'll find something suitable here or not. However, I do believe the situation needs to be mutual. Therein, if upon getting to know one another if on either side there is not interest I'd rather we speak up and not play that game. I am not perfect nor am I looking for perfection. I want to have a good time with someone likeminded while lowering the risk factor a couple notches.
If you made it this far and think we might have a few things in common feel free to write.
And write her I shall. To be continued...?
Most of these ads seem like nonsense - w4m - 28
I don't have a particular type, but that is not to say I am into everyone. Some things I am not looking for:
Bi-sexual men
Men who will sleep with anyone- yes, I get this is the casual encounter section
Someone who is seriously drug (alcohol and marijuana are okay) and disease free.
One night stands- I can't plan for multiple encounters, but going into it a one time thing is not my goal. Once I open up the flood gates it's hard to stop and I'm not looking to rack up the numbers.
Someone completely insincere- I don't want your money nor do I want to marry you, but if I want to be treated like just a pussy I can go to a bar and get that.
Someone who wants to meet after one email- preferably I want to exchange emails, talk on the phone and take it from there.
A guy who feels oral sex is only to be received.
Some things I do like:
- Men who can deal with the fact that I'm 5'9"
- Someone who knows what they want and are able to express it.
- A guy who understands I am busy and like to have my own life, but also realizes I can make time for him and vice versa.
- A person who gets that my mind is as big of a turn on if not moreso than my body.
I realize this is the casual enounter section, but that does not mean random and risky sex to me. I take my sexual healthy seriously (yeah, it probably seems humorous), but I want that in someone else. I know I can not be alone in feeling that masturbation gets old and completely anonymous sex with someone I know nothing about is unfulfilling. I don't know if I'll find something suitable here or not. However, I do believe the situation needs to be mutual. Therein, if upon getting to know one another if on either side there is not interest I'd rather we speak up and not play that game. I am not perfect nor am I looking for perfection. I want to have a good time with someone likeminded while lowering the risk factor a couple notches.
If you made it this far and think we might have a few things in common feel free to write.
And write her I shall. To be continued...?
Sunday, January 08, 2006
I only made it to Level 6?
So I finally have some comments on my page. Guess that means I've got to keep writing something interesting... which I'll get back to shortly--famous last blogging words.
In the meantime, following a link-back from a passer by, I came across the Dante's Divine Comedy Quiz. Yes, it's one of those annoying quizes the internet is full of. The Inferno, from what I recall of freshman lit, was a pretty interesting read. And since the guy shares my name, I figured it was worth trying.
Five minutes later, I find that I'm going to the Sixth Level of Hell, AKA The City of Dis. According to the poet Dante that involves the following:
"You approach Satan's wretched city where you behold a wide plain surrounded by iron walls. Before you are fields full of distress and torment terrible. Burning tombs are littered about the landscape. Inside these flaming sepulchers suffer the heretics, failing to believe in God and the afterlife, who make themselves audible by doleful sighs. You will join the wicked that lie here, and will be offered no respite. The three infernal Furies stained with blood, with limbs of women and hair of serpents, dwell in this circle of Hell."
Bummer, but as a non-believer I'm not yet terribly worried. And it's the only level of hell with a city, so that sounds pretty cultural and happening. Probably has a good public transit system too. But I guess if I want to make it all the way to the ground floor I need to be a bit more treacherous. Hmm, not a bad new year's resolution.
So here's the link, plus how I scored (presuming their HTML coding works in this blog):
The Dante's Inferno Test banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Take the Dante's Inferno Hell
In the meantime, following a link-back from a passer by, I came across the Dante's Divine Comedy Quiz. Yes, it's one of those annoying quizes the internet is full of. The Inferno, from what I recall of freshman lit, was a pretty interesting read. And since the guy shares my name, I figured it was worth trying.
Five minutes later, I find that I'm going to the Sixth Level of Hell, AKA The City of Dis. According to the poet Dante that involves the following:
"You approach Satan's wretched city where you behold a wide plain surrounded by iron walls. Before you are fields full of distress and torment terrible. Burning tombs are littered about the landscape. Inside these flaming sepulchers suffer the heretics, failing to believe in God and the afterlife, who make themselves audible by doleful sighs. You will join the wicked that lie here, and will be offered no respite. The three infernal Furies stained with blood, with limbs of women and hair of serpents, dwell in this circle of Hell."
Bummer, but as a non-believer I'm not yet terribly worried. And it's the only level of hell with a city, so that sounds pretty cultural and happening. Probably has a good public transit system too. But I guess if I want to make it all the way to the ground floor I need to be a bit more treacherous. Hmm, not a bad new year's resolution.
So here's the link, plus how I scored (presuming their HTML coding works in this blog):
The Dante's Inferno Test banished you to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
| Level | Score |
|---|---|
| Purgatory (Repenting Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) | Low |
| Level 2 (Lustful) | Very High |
| Level 3 (Gluttonous) | Moderate |
| Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) | Low |
| Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) | Moderate |
| Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) | Very High |
| Level 7 (Violent) | High |
| Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) | Moderate |
| Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) | High |
Thursday, January 05, 2006
My Story to Anna - Still needs finished
Here's the story starter I wrote to Anna, unpolished and unproofed, and likely at 3 AM. Also included are the first couple of sentences in her reply. I'll send the whole unfinished thing (that she's abandoned for about 2 weeks as of now,right before the climax) to anyone who emails me, or better yet, leaves me a comment about the story or site. Yeah, I'm attention whore--isn't that the point of blogging? When you get the story, you'll also be allowed to pick up and write the ending (or next chapter). Yay! Enjoy...
(If you didn't know by now, the rest of this is for adult eyes only. You've been warned.)
Anticipation:
"Dante?" Anna called out. Her voice was meek, but it filled the silent room. She strained her ears for signs of his breathing above her own. No use--her reply went unanswered.
How long had it been since he had left her like this? Anna lay face up on her large bed, tucked beneath flannel sheets and a warm down comforter. Save a pair of white socks and a silk blindfold, she wore nothing else. Her wrists had been lightly bound together and fixed to the pine headboard. Her legs, slightly splayed, were affixed to the railings at her feet.
Exercising the mobility he had left her, Anna turned her ear to the pillow, listening like scout for distant footsteps--still nothing. Dante had meticulously secured her in her present state beneath the covers, kissed her passionately, buried all but her head under the covers, and then abruptly disappeared from her limited perception.
Anna had presumed initially it was temporary, but it had since seemed eternal. Where had he gone? And why? Or was he still in the room watching bewilderment and concern sweep across her pretty face?
These questions had been plaguing Anna now for twenty minutes. Paranoia, curiosity, and tiredness mixed in varying amounts to put her at an interesting dis-ease. The longer she stayed tied up, the more she appreciated her vulnerability and heightened her anticipation of his return. Would he return with a vibrator? A feather? A riding crop? A razor? Ice? A camera? Although she had known Dante, she couldn't speculate on all directions of his sexual appetite... nor her own.
Each fantasy caused Anna a shiver of fear and excitement. Internally her fantasies grew more elaborate, and more sensual with the passing time. With a gasp, she realized that her imagination had produced some very real results between her legs.
She gasped again harder when she realized that she was still at the absent Dante's mercy for sexual relief as her prisoned hands could be of no help. She was powerless to respond to the throbbing pleadings for attention from her clit. Slowly and slightly, she rocked herself back and forth on the bed, trying to mentally magnify the little friction she could generate between the furry flannel and her naked flesh. A deep blush overtook Anna momentarily, envisioning Dante hovering over her, watching her humiliating and futile attempts at writhing her way to orgasm. "Dante?" she cried out again in a hushed whisper. Nothing. She rocked faster. "Please?" she whispered, pulling hard against her restraints. Her late night squirming was failing to bring her near climax, but it was beginning to wear her out. With the blindfold on she had no idea whether her eyes were open or not. Or even if she was still awake. What would Dante do to her if he found her asleep? Or was he waiting for her to fall asleep? Fear, fantasy, and fatigue continued out of control, and she realized that any future torture he might have in store was no worse than what he had managed to put her through. At least she hoped so.
**Anna begins her part...
Satisfaction: Anna didn't know if she had succumbed to her fatigue and frustration and was dreaming or if she indeed sensed a change in the air around her. She chose to think that she was awake and her need for release would be soon at hand...
(If you didn't know by now, the rest of this is for adult eyes only. You've been warned.)
Anticipation:
"Dante?" Anna called out. Her voice was meek, but it filled the silent room. She strained her ears for signs of his breathing above her own. No use--her reply went unanswered.
How long had it been since he had left her like this? Anna lay face up on her large bed, tucked beneath flannel sheets and a warm down comforter. Save a pair of white socks and a silk blindfold, she wore nothing else. Her wrists had been lightly bound together and fixed to the pine headboard. Her legs, slightly splayed, were affixed to the railings at her feet.
Exercising the mobility he had left her, Anna turned her ear to the pillow, listening like scout for distant footsteps--still nothing. Dante had meticulously secured her in her present state beneath the covers, kissed her passionately, buried all but her head under the covers, and then abruptly disappeared from her limited perception.
Anna had presumed initially it was temporary, but it had since seemed eternal. Where had he gone? And why? Or was he still in the room watching bewilderment and concern sweep across her pretty face?
These questions had been plaguing Anna now for twenty minutes. Paranoia, curiosity, and tiredness mixed in varying amounts to put her at an interesting dis-ease. The longer she stayed tied up, the more she appreciated her vulnerability and heightened her anticipation of his return. Would he return with a vibrator? A feather? A riding crop? A razor? Ice? A camera? Although she had known Dante, she couldn't speculate on all directions of his sexual appetite... nor her own.
Each fantasy caused Anna a shiver of fear and excitement. Internally her fantasies grew more elaborate, and more sensual with the passing time. With a gasp, she realized that her imagination had produced some very real results between her legs.
She gasped again harder when she realized that she was still at the absent Dante's mercy for sexual relief as her prisoned hands could be of no help. She was powerless to respond to the throbbing pleadings for attention from her clit. Slowly and slightly, she rocked herself back and forth on the bed, trying to mentally magnify the little friction she could generate between the furry flannel and her naked flesh. A deep blush overtook Anna momentarily, envisioning Dante hovering over her, watching her humiliating and futile attempts at writhing her way to orgasm. "Dante?" she cried out again in a hushed whisper. Nothing. She rocked faster. "Please?" she whispered, pulling hard against her restraints. Her late night squirming was failing to bring her near climax, but it was beginning to wear her out. With the blindfold on she had no idea whether her eyes were open or not. Or even if she was still awake. What would Dante do to her if he found her asleep? Or was he waiting for her to fall asleep? Fear, fantasy, and fatigue continued out of control, and she realized that any future torture he might have in store was no worse than what he had managed to put her through. At least she hoped so.
**Anna begins her part...
Satisfaction: Anna didn't know if she had succumbed to her fatigue and frustration and was dreaming or if she indeed sensed a change in the air around her. She chose to think that she was awake and her need for release would be soon at hand...
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Collar Me Bad
If you, like I, happen to be somewhat interested in the practice of BDSM and lacking a real life outlet other than CL.I found this cool site (18+ ONLY) through something (probably craigslist) and just thought I'd share
Guess I should apologize too for being derelict on my posting and getting back to the subject matter at hand, but since I've installed a counter, I now have verifiable proof of what I've expected--no one has visited my blog. Blogger doesn't even seem to acknowledge my page yet either. Things aren't great, but I'm not crying yet. So spank me.
As the natives, myself included, around these parts tend to say to each other this time of year, "Go Bucks!" A 34 to 20 win over the Notre Dame Fighting Irish.
Guess I should apologize too for being derelict on my posting and getting back to the subject matter at hand, but since I've installed a counter, I now have verifiable proof of what I've expected--no one has visited my blog. Blogger doesn't even seem to acknowledge my page yet either. Things aren't great, but I'm not crying yet. So spank me.
As the natives, myself included, around these parts tend to say to each other this time of year, "Go Bucks!" A 34 to 20 win over the Notre Dame Fighting Irish.
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