Thursday, January 28, 2010
This Saturday we are back to the Lair again with Erica and J. My wife and J will play. It's been since early December-ish since Erica has had a good punishment (as opposed to the bad kind???). I'm eager and ready, feeling antsy in general to play but more specifically craving my hand on her flesh for a bit of good old fashioned corporeal discipline. I'm still breaking in my new toys purchased last year at Bizarre Bazaar...breaking them in on Erica's butt! Seriously, not having played much (due to my wife's writing schedule, business trips for moi and family commitments, it's long overdue).
Erica: get ready. I'm like a caged tiger ready to pounce this time...
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Years ago a contract employee at the company I worked for ran and hosted a cable TV show and website devoted to discussions on adult film. My friend considered himself the Leonard Maltin of porn (my description, not his). Maybe more the Harry Knowles of porn. He had a system for reviewing all the VHS tapes that came in, but he was starting to get a lot of DVDs. He hadn't yet invested in this newfangled DVD thing. I had a DVD player and knowing I was a writer I offered an exchange: give me the DVDs and I'll write porn reviews for your site. He took me up on the offer. It was a win/win. I had wank material and he got pithy reviews.
I didn't take the growing supply of DVDs home for fear my kids would find them, so I kept them in a box that I kept secret in my office at work. When I moved offices, that box went into storage at my company somehow and, to be honest, I forgot all about it.
Yesterday I get an email from a female employee at my place of business. "I found your box of porn," the communication said, almost like it was a blackmail letter. Immediately I felt the steely grip of nausea sweep over me. What do I write? What do I do? I wrote back, "You're right. That is my porn. But for the record, I only had it because I was writing reviews for a website." As if that somehow made it more legit. I had used a nom de plume when writing because...well...duh. Panic setting in, I decided to Google that pen name. To my amazement, a number of reviews still existed in the aether of the interwebs. I quickly copied and pasted the Google search results and sent it back to the young lady who had the misfortune to stumble upon EuroHotties #16 and Fists of Fury 4.
After sending her the links I didn't hear back. In my own twisted mind I figured the links to the porn site with the reviews of crappy adult films written under a pen name would some how legitimize that box of porn. Later that evening I paid a visit to the H.R. lady and had a casual chat, just to see if she had anything she needed to say to me. Fortunately, everything seems fine.
I should just track that box down and donate it before someone less--understanding?--finds it.
Friday, January 8, 2010
I've spent a lot of time on this blog talking about the differences I perceive between the BDSM and spanking worlds. I've talked about protocols, scenes, respect, intensity, communication, joy, fear, chemistry and a whole lot more. One thing I haven't spent much musings on is the mind. The differences between the two worlds are can be seen in this realm, too.
In the BDSM world, there is much said (and more done) with regard to mind games, mental supremacy, protocols to create superiority both physical and mental and much more. These can lead to some serious fucked up shit. There are those who chose to twist their own mental problems, disassociations, childhood issues or whatever into mind games they exert on others. This they see as part of the scene. Part of "the play." As discussed on this blog time and again, that's all fine and dandy when the two parties are consenting to play. Hey, if you want to be mentally fucked up, go for it! As long as you're lucid and know what you want, who's to stop you?
I'm not saying this doesn't exist in the spanking world. Not at all. Mind games are integral to a good scene. Essential. The psychology of a scene often involves carefully played discipline both physical and mental. But generally speaking, in this writer's opinion, in the spanking world the mind games are often just that: games.
When I plan on using mental play in a scene I'll tip off my play partner this is my intent, or check first to see if she is in the right place emotionally and mentally prior to going on to doing some kind of mind fuck. I don't use mind games at all in my play unless I think my bottom wants it or needs it, and never without inquiring first.
There was a scene with Erica last year in which she really wanted an intensely emotional experience. I knew there were some unresolved issues between us--a misunderstanding, really--that I could use to my advantage, to "tweak" her emotionally and put her in a raw state that would allow her emotions to come to the surface easily. Even as I was planning the scene, I contacted Erica in advance to let her know I intended on using that misunderstanding to my advantage and whatever I said to her during the scene should not be taken personally. I wanted to make sure she was okay with it and she was. The scene was one of our most intense. But like I said, I never would have introduced that mind fuck without consulting with her first.
But so many are manipulative, using mind games to try to take advantage of others, to not only mind fuck them, but to fuck with them in general, usually for their own selfish gain.
Be careful when you deal with individuals in the lifestyle. What often appears nice and friendly, or serious and toppy, could often be nothing more than an individual who's motives are less than genuine. A good top looks out for his/her bottom. Protects them. And when there's energy or chemistry there, it's something to be cherished, not manipulated or twisted for some petty mind game. Chances are, a strong, intelligent person will see right through it for it really is: nothing more than mental manipulation.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
I don't typically post things of a personal nature here, I try to stick to things on-topic. But today I'm sitting in the Atlanta airport, stuck overnight on my way home from a holiday vacation with my family. Our flight delayed out of a banana republic yesterday, we missed our connection and found ourselves stuck in Atlanta. With temperatures in the ReelFeel® range of 12 degrees, and each of us in t-shirts, shorts and sandals, our simple journey to the airport hotel was a physical challenge in and of itself. We'll arrive back in Los Angeles more than 24 hours after we were supposed to, missing a day to reaclimate ourselves back to Pacific Standard Time, relax, unpack, get the house back in order, perhaps even take down some Xmas decor.
But that won't happen. My son goes back to school, my wife on deadline for her book, and I have a plane out on business Monday morning, some 16 hours after landing.
I hope this isn't a precursor to the remainder of the year...