Thursday, February 28, 2013

The BOLD 2013 Description

Rather than posting to this blog, Lizzie and I did side-by-side discussions/descriptions of our experiences at BOLD 2013 on our blog, Black & Blue. Read the post here

And take a peek at the 2014 logo, which reflects the theme of the event next year: Our Leather Roots.


Sunday, February 24, 2013


I just got back from BOLD 2013. What an amazing experience! My mind is still swimming from it, but I think the best forum for my thoughts from BOLD will be on Black & Blue, where Lizzie and I can share our thoughts side by side. So look for our post on the subject in a few days, after we've had a chance to collect our thoughts.

Monday, February 18, 2013

Life is a Constant State of Aftercare

I was writing about one of my scenes with Lizzie the other day for our blog, Black & Blue. It got me thinking about aftercare and how, in a full-time lifestyle relationship, aftercare is, in many ways, a 24/7 thing. Some people would just call that "being attentive to the relationship." Granted, all good relationships require proactive nurturing. The moment they go to something else they stagnate and like an unused muscle, wither and atrophy. 

I've never been in a 24/7 kink-based relationship before. My BDSM relationship with my ex was never a fully realized thing. We had too much baggage. There were too many things that kept us both from fully allowing that to develop. With Lizzie, we have both the kink (it's nice, when the kids aren't around, to be able to randomly launch into an unexpected flurry of spanking that'll take her breath away, wherever we may be at the moment) and the D/s (a simple, stern look can do a lot in terms of communicating a message or even power exchange). Those things were well established in our relationship before love entered the picture.

But as that 24/7 lifestyle evolves, the care and nurturing that I find so integral to any good relationship is as much a part of our vanilla experience as it is a part of our lifestyle experience. [I just read that bit back to myself and I'm not even sure I'm making much sense at this point.] That's what I mean about "life is a constant state of aftercare." We owe it to our partners to continue that intimate connection far beyond the end of a scene.

In another way, sometimes, later in the night after we play, or even well into the next day, I can see that Lizzie is fragile. When we weren't together full-time it's something I wouldn't see. But being together, I notice it and I make sure to wrap my arms around her and "check in," hold her tight and let her know all is okay with the world. In that case, it usually doesn't last more than a day after a scene, that fragility, and it's not always there. But I feel better knowing I'm around to see it when it happens.

I feel I've really rambled out this particular blog post. Maybe it's the time difference (I'm in Europe on business and perhaps not entirely lucid). Maybe it's my own head trying to wrap itself around the subject I more sense than can articulate. 

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the above. 

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Happy Kinky Valentine's Day


No matter what you're predilection may be, chances are you get to exercise it in one manner or another tonight. Valentine's Day. So full of promise—romance, acknowledgement of love, fantastic sex and kinky fucked up stuff. 

It always cracks me up to see the poseur kink stuff that gets promoted around this time of year. Cheap wrist restraints, heart-shaped crops, Halloween costume quality blindfolds. Sooo kinky! It's like the people that show up at our local dungeon on Halloween or New Years Eve: lookiloos out for a little thrill. I'm no kinkster elitist. I just think it's amusing. 

But if you can find some twist on how to get off, particularly if your in a place where you need some spice in your stew, Valentine's Day can be an easy "entry drug" to get into something a wee bit more hardcore. Break out those fur-lined handcuffs, get out the silk scarves for your four poster bed and check the batteries on that battering ram dildo! There's some nasty shit to get done tonight!

But in all seriousness, on this February 14th I'm particularly thankful for the wonderful wrapped gift I've already received, my own particular Valentine's Day treat, this delightful bundle of lust:


Lizzie, you filthy little pain slut, sensation whore and sex-crazed goddess, you're the greatest gift I could have ever received. Hope you have a special day today. I plan on giving it to you.


Sunday, February 3, 2013

Walking Your Girlfriend

In light of my short story last week, a friend sent me an article from Britain's The Globe and Mail newspaper about a girl walking her girlfriend on a leash around the neighborhood. Here's the link as well as the text of the article:

The neighbor walks her girlfriend on a leash. What do I tell my kid?

The question

We live in a family-oriented neighbourhood in the heart of our city. Dozens of kids ride bikes, play soccer and so on while adults chat and watch. Last summer, oneo f my neighbours (with three sons) told me he saw a woman walking her girlfriend on a leash. I told him he must have been fantasizing. Sure enough, a woman with long dreads and multiple piercings (I'd seen her before; she rents a basement apartment on the street) came around the corner walking her girlfriend on a leash. We've seen it many times since then, in the middle of the day. My four year old daughter asked me why the lady was wearing a leash. I told her that she was pretending to be a dog and that the other lady was playing the owner. My daughter loves inventing her own play scenarios and easily accepted my explanation. This has been going on since last summer, so it's obviously a happy, long-term relationship. But I don't love having to explain S&M roleplay to my four year old and would appreciat if the dog-walking happened after, say 9 p.m. What would you do? 

The answer

Now I’ve officially heard it all. God, it’s straight out of Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot. Next Leash Lady (like Pozzo, to his manservant-on-a-leash Lucky in Godot) will be whipping her girlfriend as she walks along, saying stuff like “Basket!” “Pipe!” and “Dance, hog!”
Here’s one idea. Ask Leash Lady if you can “pat” her girlfriend, then tousle the girlfriend’s hair, scratch her behind the ears, then reach in your pocket and bring out a “treat,” like a piece of Brie on a toothpick, or some coconut shrimp, and give it to her, saying “Attagirl!” and “Good girl!” the whole time.
I kid, of course. The above suggestions are “for entertainment purposes only.” When you unpack this dilemma, it’s actually kind of a tough (or maybe I should say rrrruff!) one.
On the one hand, I understand the temptation to go up to Leash Lady and say something like: “Hey could you please, like, not do that?”
I mean, I think you’ve handled your daughter’s questions in a very elegant and clever fashion, so far. But as time goes by, she may come to doubt what you’ve told her – or some older kid will tip her off. And she may resent you for that – and why should you have to go through all that because Miss Knotty Dreads likes to parade her personal kink for all to see?
But here’s the thing: You can just bet – you know – Leash Lady is just dying for someone to come up to her. Parading your girlfriend through a residential street on the end of a leash is a classic case of “épater la bourgeoisie” – like when the Surrealist poet Gérard de Nerval used to promenade his pet lobster Thibault through the streets of Paris on the end of a blue ribbon. It’s a deliberate act of provocation and nose-thumbing to your “conventional thinking” and “bourgeois, materialistic values.”
Basically, I’d worry that if you approach her in any kind of confrontational fashion, what will be unleashed is not her girlfriend but a hostility-laced tirade, aimed at you, on her sexual rights, your right to judge, interfering busybodies, etc. And public discourse is already so full of hostile exchanges, I feel. (Last fall, my wife Pam was riding her bike sans helmet and a woman in an SUV pulled up, rolled down her window and said: “Did you forget your helmet or are you just stupid?” After that encounter I came up with an all-purpose riposte: Simply drolly cock an eyebrow and say “Been a while?”)
It sounds like you feel it’s a happy, consensual relationship, and there’s nothing dangerous going on in that basement. So if I were you I’d just relax, and enjoy/ignore Leash Lady’s exhibitionistic display. All part of the fun and pageantry of living in the big city, right? Smile and wave and act like it’s normal when she sashays past. It’s no fun to épater la bourgeoisie if the bourgeoisie acts all blasé, and maybe she’ll get bored of trying after a while.
In fact, why not approach and try to get to know this kinky couple? Find an opportunity to have a pleasant chat with them. Don’t even mention the leash. Prediction: She’ll want to talk about it (like the dad who transgendered himself into a mom in my neighbourhood: I let him bring it up first. After that the trick was getting him – or, rather, her – to talk about something, anything else).
She may turn out to be a nicer person than you may be imagining. Of course, she may not, but step one is to get to know her. Everything, including whether and what to say or do about her little “hobby,” will flow from there.
Meanwhile, if your daughter somehow discovers the truth – well, that’s no biggie, either, in the grand scheme. Just take her hand in yours, look into her eyes, and say: “Honey, it takes all kinds to make up this world.” Maybe it’ll help her grow up to be ultra-tolerant and hard to surprise.