Thursday, April 28, 2011

Boardwalk Badness, Here We Come!

Heading off super early to Atlantic City today to begin the Boardwalk Badness Weekend festivities. Implements packed...clothes padding the lot...plans starting to come together...hand hardened...and I'm ready to go!

Look for my usual Party Reports--at least one for each day from today thru Monday. Don't know if I'll have time to start posting during the weekend, but you can expect the first one to appear likely Monday night.

For those attending, can't wait to see all my friends and get to some fun hang-out time, spanking time and great camaraderie.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Iron Hand!

Marvel Studios have turned most of their Grade-A comic book superheroes into great (and not-so-great) blockbuster motion pictures over the last few years. Admittedly, there have been hits and misses. With Captain America coming out this summer they're officially reaching below the A-list and into a bag of some strange or difficult-to-adapt characters.

While trolling the internet late last night I came across this panel. Got me thinking, could a superhero called Iron Hand be far behind? (Get it? Behind? Get it???)

Monday, April 25, 2011

Brittanic Honeymoon: Collaborative Fiction Part 6

In this ongoing work of collaborative fiction being written consecutively by Lizzie and myself, Kelsey and Alec are on their honeymoon, taking an "off-world" cruise in a not-too-distant future. The two have made themselves at home in their incredible stateroom, enjoyed some OTK and then went to a dinner filled with erotic humiliation. Later, they dressed for the first night's Masquerade Ball festivities, Alec placing a rather erotic chastity belt on horny Kelsey, the two meeting up with other kinksters met on the social networking Wall. After a brief bit of discipline in the family bathroom, the two lovebirds are back to the Ball...

The main ballroom was awash in purple and green lighting, streamers hanging from the beautiful chandeliers and 3D projections covering the walls to create the illusion of Versaille.  The room was full of amazing people, each costumed in different and exciting ways. Kelsey and Alec walked into the room, dressed in their Victorian regalia. Alec walked in, cane in hand, feeling like a cross between Alex from A Clockwork Orange and the father from Mary Poppins. Kelsey looked amazing in her skirts, corset and beautifully arranged hair.

The two walked into the ballroom, eyeing the crowd and the outfits. “Over by a large portrait projected on the wall,” Alec said. “That’s where we’ll find the others.” Kelsey knew that meant the people Alec had discovered on the cruise who were “like minded” to them. She was excited to meet these other kinksters. Alec took Kelsey by the hand and soon they had woven their way through the room past Harlequin masks and beautiful people in powdered faces and powdered wigs and found an obviously large portrait.

There were a three or four couples standing around, sipping drinks, talking and laughing.  Alec walked up to the nearest couple he recognized from the profiles on The Wall and introduced themselves. “Hi. I’m Alec. We, uh, saw your profiles on The Wall. This is Kelsey.”

The couple was dressed in quasi-Mardi Gras costumes.  He had a facemask with an elephant trunk for a nose. Hers was decidedly…feminine. (Feminine in that it looked like she had a mask with a “nose” that more resembled a stylized vagina than anything else.) “I’m Ronald and this is Helena,” the elephant man said. “We’re from offworld.” Ronald and Helena introduced Kelsey and Alec to the others.

“Any of you know each other before the cruise?” Alec asked.

“We played with Ronald and Helena,” a Brit said. “Zero-g stuff. Very edgy.” The four laughed, Helena a bit nervously.

Kelsey leaned in to Alec and whispered in his ear. “Zero-g? Hot!”

“Was there an excursion pamphlet for that?” Alec teased.

The dancing began, Alec and Kelsey swept up into the crowd, the two doing a variation of slow dancing that was all the rage, incongruous to the setting and the costumes. Others followed suit. The dance floor was so full, Alec was able to reach around and spank Kelsey’s bottom as they moved with no one the wiser. It was hard with Kelsey’s hoop skirt but Alec found a way. “Mmmm,” Kelsey purred with each spank. Alec realized she was gyrating her hips as she moved—and it wasn’t a part of the dance.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Alec said.

“What, love?” Kelsey responded, her eyes glazed with pleasure.

“The idea of the belt was to hold you in, not release you, slut.”

“Oh, um…” Kelsey stopped gyrating and focused on the dance.

Alec pressed his crotch against her chastity belt and the inserts, knowing the pressure would press against her bits. “You’re not trying to get off just by dancing now, are you?”

“Um…well…” Kelsey stammered.

“I thought so,” Alec said, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her unceremoniously off the dance floor and out of the boisterous ballroom.

Out in the lobby, Alec led her brusquely to one of the “family bathrooms” between the men’s and women’s. There, he locked the door and pressed her up against the wall of the shiny white and gold washroom. He kissed her hard on the lips, then motioned for her to grab the railing next to the toilet. Kelsey did as instructed and Alec roughly yanked up her hoop skirt and finery, exposing the chastity belt. Without a word he spanked the back of the belt, hard and surprisingly rough. This caught Kelsey quite by surprise, to say the least.

“Perhaps you’re enjoying yourself too much!” Alec barked, slapping the belt again and again, causing the plugs to push up against and into her. Kelsey couldn’t help but to moan and present herself to him. “You are such the little slut, aren’t you?”

“Yes…” Kelsey barely breathed. “Please, Alec. Don’t tease...”

“Me? Tease? Who’s gyrating on the dance floor like a dog in heat!” Alec smacked each exposed cheek hard, open-palmed. The slaps were loud cracks that reverberated in the tiled room. The rosy aura of his handprint began to bloom on each alabaster cheek.


Alec pushed his knee into her crotch then, pressing the dildos deep into her. Kelsey let out a guttural moan. “You like this? Instead of dancing with me at the Masquerade Ball? Instead of socializing with our new friends? You’d rather be in the bathroom having me play with you?”


Alec pressed his knee against her again, pushing, his hands around her on her hipbones, pulling her into his leg.

“I want to cum, Alec,” Kelsey purred.

“No! Not yet!” Alec released the pressure and spun her around, slapping her across the cheek in the way they both knew would be surprising, yet not damaging emotionally or physically. It was part of their play. Kelsey stared at him wide-eyed. “Get control of yourself, straighten out your costume and meet me back in the ballroom. It’s time for our friends’ little masquerade-within-the-masquerade party and I’m curious to see what that’s all about before we go back to our room to ‘consummate’ our marriage.”

Alec turned on his heels, unlocked the door to the washroom and was gone, leaving Kelsey frustrated, blushing and incredibly horny.

Friday, April 22, 2011

The Ode to Boardwalk Badness Weekend

It's a strange, strange sight when the tops at night
Toil the Boardwalk for naughty buns
A spanking or two, a punishing pas de deux
And a weekend of chastising fun.

The Atlantic lights have seen weird sights,
But the weirdest they ever did see
Was that weekend of play, a spanking holiday
When I smacked all the girls with glee.

Now Atlantic City is dirty and gritty
(What being in Jersey and all).
But The Chelsea is great (unlike the rest, Kuwait!)
Compared to them all it's St. Paul's!
Arrive in quite early, meet your favorite girlie
And pick up your badge and a switch.
Some quick OTK before the soirée
Don't let them brat, moan or bitch!

Then pretzels and parties (it's all a bit naughty)
Discipline hearings and karaoke.
Tired and hungry, with tummies all grumbly
It's off to the Trop for some gnocchi.
Then late nights in suites, the day complete;
It's time to turn in--3 am!
Hand split and cracked, her bottom's all whacked
Looking vaguely like an old Easter ham.

Next day--more fun, some time in the sun
Pleated skirts, argyle socks and black shoes.
With carbon fiber cane that's all girls' disdain
Make 'em count and be sure to confuse.
Soon the weekend is spent, no discontent
Except for the time's gone too fast.
Three days of bottoms, so utterly awesome
Boardwalk Badness, a time unsurpassed.

Yes, it's a strange, strange sight when the tops at night
Toil the Boardwalk for naughty buns
A spanking or two, a punishing pas de deux
And a weekend of chastising fun.

The Atlantic lights have seen weird sights,
But the weirdest they ever did see
Was that weekend of play, a spanking holiday
When I spanked all the girls with glee.

(With a liberal nod to Robert W. Service's The Cremation of Sam McGee)

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Vaginamals. WTF???

Okay, just when you think you've seen it all, along comes Vaginamals. This is not a joke, people. Though I've Googled and can't find a single retailer with these out (not like I'm trying to buy one!), they look legit in the photos. Still, at "stuffed animal size," even kinky fucks with odd fetishes couldn't really, uh, stuff one of these...

Monday, April 18, 2011

Brittanic Honeymoon: Collaborative Fiction Part 5

Today marks Part 5 of the collaborative fiction between Lizzie and myself.

Today, Part 5 is posted on Lizzie's website here. Hope you're following along and enjoying the story. Every week we're both surprised by where the story goes. Hopefully you're enjoying reading it as much as we are writing it!

Thursday, April 14, 2011

A Strange & Painful Night: My Scene with Beth Part Two

(This is the continuation of my post on my scene with Beth Saturday night.)

After the scene, Beth slowly came back and I gave her a big bear hug and sat quietly with her until she was ready to get up. I packed the implements, fur blanket and speaker and we headed out. (Dark Musing Product Endorsement: audio in the Lair is a bit intermittent, at best, so I got a Jambox which pairs to my iPhone for Bluetooth connection and plays music from my iTunes. I built a Scene Playlist and played it with the scene. Damn, the sound quality from that tiny portable box is amazing!)

Later, when we got to the car, I opened the driver's side door and told Beth to put her hands on the car seat. Nervously, she asked why. I told her she was 22 minutes late so there were going to be 22 swats. She protested, but soon was bent over at my car in the parking lot getting spanked.  A few minutes later she was in the back seat, over the seat back as if looking for something in the cargo space of my SUV, the seat turned into a makeshift spanking bench. I swatted her rear heartily and she bratted as if we hadn't played in a day and a half, and goaded me on to really lay into her--which, of course, I did. This only lasted for a few minutes, but we were laughing the whole way through and really enjoyed the lightheartedness of it. If we had needed to shrug off the oddness of the evening this had done the trick.

I drove Beth back to her hotel and she invited me up to get a little Easter gift--some baked goods she had made for me and brought down from her home. (They were red velvet whoopee pies and homemade Girl Scout-style Tagalongs. OMG! Those Tagalongs were like CRACK and had just the right combination of sweet and salty. [Hear that Erica??? Sweet AND salty!]) We talked up at her room for a bit, going over the scene bit by bit, when suddenly we heard four or five loud cracks from outside the hotel, followed by a woman's panicked screaming and a man's muffled yelling. The screaming went on for a couple minutes and then stopped.

"Do you suppose those were gunshots?" I asked. Beth wasn't sure and neither was I. "I'm going down to see what's going on," I said. 

"Don't go yet!" Beth was afraid if they were gunshots, it might not be so smart to go to the lobby. (This proved a smart move.) We talked for a minute more and then we heard a helicopter, then to confirm it was the police, saw the bright light shining in her window. So something bad had gone down downstairs, but the cops were there.

I said goodnight, went to investigate and head home, thanked Beth for the goodies and, after all was said and done, a really great evening.

When I got to the lobby I discovered the hotel on lockdown, the minimum wage employee at the front desk terrified, a night manager in her pajamas talking to police and the entire hotel cordoned off.  I was told no one was going anywhere until the crime scene photographer had arrived. There had been a shooting in the parking garage just off the lobby. I plopped myself on a bench in the lobby, phoned Beth and let her know what was going on. "I'm coming down," she said matter-of-factly. I tried to tell her to go to bed, but with the excitement of the cops, the sounds of the gunshots and the screaming still reverberating in her head, she said she couldn't sleep and would rather keep me company until the police let everyone leave.

Minutes turned to hours. Everyone in the lobby watched out the huge glass windows in the front of the boutique hotel as cops first drew chalk circles around blood and shell casings, then other cops came in to add little white plastic table tents with numbers for each. Finally, the photographer showed up, flashed photos of every numbered and chalked area and left. We never saw an ambulance or coroner's office van. 

We heard from the kid in the lobby that there had been an altercation in the parking lot, two men fighting. There was a broken bottle behind my car that might have been used as a weapon. The police weren't sure. One man had been bleeding from the fight, went to a car (driven by a chauffeur according to the clerk!) and fired on the other man from the car with the driver. (WTF???) I don't know if the man who had been fired upon had been hit, grazed or missed. I assume the gunman missed since we never saw or heard a siren and the gunman (and driver!) fled the scene. But before he fled, the gunman turned to look at the hotel clerk standing in the open, wide doorway to the lobby of the hotel, pointing his gun. The kid slammed the door, used his master key to lock it, and ran and hid in the bowels of the hotel. Poor kid was terrified.

Crime scene photographer done, the cops pulled the tape, opened the doors and let people go, a huge R&B party spilling out to their cars to head off into the early morning. It was now 5 am and I said goodnight and goodbye to Beth, treats in hand, and headed home.

As I said, the evening was bookended by oddness, but the scene (and super-fun "afterscene") made it all worthwhile.

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

A Strange & Painful Night: My Scene with Beth Part One

Beth's bottom, Sunday afternoon.
(This is part one of a two part post.)

Saturday night I played with Beth again. We had a great scene, but there were a a couple of strange events that bookended the evening. 

It all started off late afternoon Saturday when I got a text from Beth telling me she'd forgotten her dress for the Lair and she was calling off the evening. For the next hour or so I tried talking her off the ledge. She was very upset, wanting everything in our scene to be perfect. I finally just went with, "I'm on my way," not sure if she'd want to play. I thought, at the very least, we'd go to dinner and talk and perhaps I could help her feel better. I met her at her lodgings, a new boutique hotel in Studio City, and she was stressed, upset and quiet, but she looked great in leggings, heels and a gauzy gold blouse. 

We went to dinner, which is something we found after playing the first few times, is incredibly important. We don't have an opportunity to see each other before we play, so that dinner time allows us to talk about the scene, see where our heads are, reconnect--rather than just jump into play which would be fun but could be a bit superficial. 

At dinner, Beth was still out of sorts. Conversation was stilted. Finally I said, "Look, if you're not in the right headspace we aren't going to play. I don't want this to end up a mess. Scenes that start out in the wrong headspace can end up a mess." Eventually we agreed to go to the Lair, but I was guarded.

At the Lair we found our usual room mostly unoccupied (the guy who wears a fishnet body suit with little flashing lights on his wiener [!] was there) and I began to set up. Beth seemed to be relaxing on one hand but, as always, was getting anxious about the play on the other. I gave her a big hug, held her for a moment and double-checked. Should we continue? She wanted to.

Rather than start with the usual OTK I bent her over the padded bench we use and began hand spanking her to warm her up. She seemed to start complaining early, probably because of the place she'd been in most of the afternoon. 

Beth has five play modes: 

  1. whiney
  2. begging & pleading
  3. resigned
  4. contemplative
  5. fighting
So instead of easing up I laid into her harder. I knew she wanted to be pushed--pushed further than we had gone in our previous scene--and I soon switched to my nanny paddle, a flappy small leather paddle that truly stings.

I stood Beth up, jumped up on the table and brought her across my lap. I used my reformatory paddle on her, a long, thick strip of holed leather to get good coverage across her bum. Soon her leggings were off and she was kicking, as she's wont to do when she's in her fighting mode and I was slapping the back her legs as I'm wont to do when she's kicking.

I returned her to being bent over the bench and brought out my dragon's tail, which has this super loud and satisfying crack! that reverberates through the small room we play in. That crack really gets my sadistic motor running. I moved on to straps, paddles, my antique razor strop, then brought out something new for Beth: my devil's tail (see pic), a nasty whip-like implement with an articulated arrow of leather at the end. I learned later that Beth really liked this painful thing that snapped at her backside. I pulled out my leather biker glove and my thuddy work glove and smacked her more. 

The scene was progressing nicely, so I moved her to lying face down on the bench, pulling out a suede flogger. I have to say, I really flogged the living hell out of Beth's back and she moaned and made her sexy animal sounds throughout. I wanted to do more flogging and had planned to switch to a stiffer leather flogger, but another couple had come into the room and set up at the adjacent St. Andrews Cross, so I was limited on space.

I moved onto sensation play, using fur, claws and a wartenberg wheel. Beth has a love/hate relationship with many implements, but the vampire gloves and my two knives really get her. She squeals, moans, groans and generally sounds like she dislikes everything I'm doing to her. But she loves it.

I moved on to canes, starting with a 1/2" thick thuddy red fiberglass number and moving onto a full-body wood caning, followed by my diabolical carbon fibre ultra-thin cane. Knowing Beth wanted me to push her, I opted to use that cane on the back of her legs, really delivering a set of rather excruciating blows in a line across both, from her bottom to just above the knee. She was barely able to absorb it. (I'm not saying this boastfully, merely communicating as it went with her own observations of the scene thrown in.) Almost immediately, welts on the back of each leg appeared (mostly on her right leg as I was on the left of her, try as I might have at the time to keep the blows even). 

Rice Paddle and Diabolical New Beth Fave
(I've overlaid a ruler for approximate sizing.)
It was on to the final act: heavy impact. Prior to the scene, in a few text message exchanges, Beth lamented how much she hated my usual scene-ender, a plywood-thick leather paddle. She'd pretty much begged me not to end the scene that way this time. So in a flash of mind-fuckery, I brought along a selection of implements. After I had really worked her up to a fervor with lots of paddling both with hand and leather, I told her we were at a cusp in the scene. 

"You said you didn't want the leather paddle, Beth," I whispered to her in the darkened room off the kitchen of the dungeon. She begged for me not to use it. 

"I hate that thing!" she replied with a nervous laugh. 

"Okay then, you get to pick." Then I held out three implements: the dreaded thick leather paddle she hated, a 14" aluminum paddle with 1/2" diameter holes in it and a 36" long industrial kitchen wooden rice paddle that Caroline had given me as a joke gift from Shadow Lane last year.  I knew the rice paddle would have the appropriate shock and awe, and it did. 

"Oh my God! What's that???" She looked them over and eventually reluctantly chose the rice paddle!

Based on prior "infractions" over the previous six weeks she had earned a total of six swats, and I moved into this deviant "finale" with a strong start. WHACK! Beth literally jumped up, getting actual air between her body and the padded table! She was on all fours in a heartbeat, begging me to stop. (In the blog posting from our last session ["You're my Bitch!"] I mentioned how Beth has invented this new stalling technique, these delightful little "breaks" in the scene--sort of pain intermissions--in which she gets on her knees on the table, wraps her arms around my neck and hangs on for dear life. This was one of those moments.) I had to yell at her to get her fucking body back down into the table to complete the five more she had earned. It took some talking (more like swearing, yelling and demanding), but eventually she complied.

The next two swats went light--I didn't want to have her run from the room! But the last was hard again. "How many was that?" 

"Five," she said firmly, her voice certain. "Um...six?" Wishful thinking. 

"You're not sure?" I asked. 

"Five." I could hear uncertainty in her voice and watched as she screwed up her courage for the final blow.

"Actually, it was six. You're done." And her whole body went slack. 

Part II will be up on the blog in a few days.  Believe it or not, things have only started to get interesting!

Monday, April 11, 2011

Brittanic Honeymoon: Collaborative Fiction Part 4

This is the fourth installment of a work of collaborative fiction between Lizzie and myself. The third chapter can be found on her site here.  Enjoy!

After looking over the pamphlets, Kelsey and Alec went back to their stateroom to get ready for their first dinner aboard the Brittanic.  They dressed in their best dinner-out attire and took the inclinator up to Queen’s Deck.  It was beautiful, replete in actual wood paneling, huge crystal chandeliers and gilded paintings. The throwback to old classic seafaring vessels made the dining level on the ship a one-of-a-kind place. Very few places on Earth were built with such extraordinary and authentic detail.

Kelsey was wide-eyed, spinning around to look at the high ceilings with the painted frescoes on them, some of them authentic. “This is amazing!” she told Alec, pulling him to her as they went into the enormous dining room and finding their seats. Introductions were made all around. There was a couple from offworld, another from New York and third from China.

Waiters in formal attire appeared and presented to each of them an amuse-bouche, a delightful little savory treat from the chef.  As soon as they stepped away, Alec presented Kelsey with a thick white padded envelope with her name neatly handwritten on the front.  “What’s this?” she asked, suddenly excited.

“It’s for you. But you aren’t to open it here. Why don’t you eat your amuse-bouche and go to the restroom and open it?” Alec responded, popping his in his mouth.

Kelsey did as instructed, finishing her little taste and taking the envelope to the restroom, curiosity and a bit of fluttery butterflies in her belly.  She tore open the envelope and was startled as a set of nipple clips on a chain accidently fell from it to the marble floor. Fumbling for them before someone walked in the door, she stuffed them in her purse and pulled out a small note and read it: Kelsey--Put these on and return to the table. And take off your panties. –Alec.

The butterflies in Kelsey’s belly suddenly tripled. What was Alec thinkingShe was to put these on and go back to dinnerShe’d be squirming from the pain and just knowing they were on under her clothesAnd then no pantiesNo wonder Alec suggested a top that was somewhat loose on her.

She steeled herself away into a toilet stall and took off her top and bra, carefully attaching the nipple clamps until they were firmly in place and put the bra in her purse. She put her top back on and adjusted the chain and then the fabric to make sure the clamps couldn’t be seen.  There were some poky bits, but she thought the fabric camouflaged them enough. The pain was surprising but also alluring. She removed her panties and went out to the sink to look at herself in the mirror, dropping the envelope and note in the trash.

She walked back to the table, feeling as though everyone’s eyes were on her, even though she knew they likely weren’t.  She sat down next to Alec, wide-eyed, squeezing his hand. In a stage whisper she said to him, “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Just getting ready for our first night as husband and wife. I thought you might enjoy a little…” and he lowered his voice even further, “…erotic humiliation.”

“Well, I…” She was about to say she didn’t, but then realized that wasn’t true in the least. She closed her mouth and folded her hands politely in her seat. The waiters returned and served soups to everyone and the group enjoyed casual conversation, getting to know one another while they ate. “And why no panties?” she asked.

“This is why,” Alec said, pulling up her dress underneath the long tablecloth and pinched her privates.


One of the other couples looked over to them at that. “Your first argument?” Everyone chuckled politely. Kelsey grew red.

“No. We’re just having fun.”

Dinner continued. Kelsey did begin to squirm from the clamps and from Alec’s probing fingers. Soon, dessert was done, complete with flaming baked Alaska. Stuffed, everyone said goodnight and headed on their way.

“You can go take those off now,” Alec said, gesturing toward Kelsey’s breasts.

“Oh, thank God!”

“And when you come back we can go get ready for the Masquerade Ball. I’ve arranged to meet some other people on board with our particular…interests.”

Friday, April 8, 2011

Ian's Back!

Perhaps this isn't news to all of you, but to me it was. I was reading Zelle's blog today and in it she extolls all things great about The London TannerIan Head's impeccable leather implements retail site. The site had been down for some time and getting hold of one of Ian's amazing spanko tools was a hard thing to do. But it's back up! 

From The London Tanner's Austere English Collection
Like I said, maybe it's been up for a while and I'm just behind the curve, but I was damn excited to see he's back in business. 

If you aren't familiar with Ian's work, you gotta check out the amazing craftsmanship of his corporeal leather implements of all sorts. For those who are, I'm sure you'll agree that it's great that The London Tanner, and Ian, are back in business, much to the chagrin of bottoms everywhere.

I have a few dastardly devices of deviant discipline and I can assure you that each and every one of them are thoroughly lovehated by those I play with. I may be late to the game, but welcome back Ian!

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Genetic Predisposition to Kink

I'm fascinated by why we do what we do. For example, I was talking Jada recently about sadism/masochism (as we're wont to do) and she was mentioning how some of her nieces/nephews seemed to have a similar predilection to pain. I've always felt that being a sadist or masochist is akin to being gay: you're just born that way (alright, some become sadists/masochists for other reasons but that's for another post). But thinking that her relatives might have similar interests it got me thinking: is some kink hereditary? Are some genetically predisposed to being a sadist or masochist?

With genetic screening to see if people have a liklihood for breast or prostate cancer, could you also learn if you're kinky? Or your kids?

I don't have a clue, but it's an interesting thought. What do you think?

Monday, April 4, 2011

Brittanic Honeymoon: Collaborative Fiction Part 3

Two weeks ago Lizzie and I began an experiment in writing a piece of collaborative fiction. We agreed to a basic scenario (a couple on their honeymoon in space) and began. Lizzie started the foray and I picked it up a week ago. 

Today, Part 3 is posted on Lizzie's website. Hope you're following along and enjoying the work. We'll see where this takes us. (On a bit of a fun note, neither of us put our heads together to work out where this thing is heading. We leave little "bread crumbs" of story clues in the writing for the other to pick up on (or not) and then continue. Hope you're liking...

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Kinksters, Be Very Afraid...

You have a FetLife account. You've decided to put your photo there, thinking your identity is safe within the confines of an exclusive kink "club." But, technology is coming soon that could put your private identity at risk. For years Google has been working on a technology that will allow users to highlight a face on a photo, website, blog--whatever--and have Google scour the internet to find other identical faces. That means you may have a vanilla profile on Facebook, but someone who's interested could have Google find other examples of your face and discover it on FetLife. When that happens, if you're not completely out of the closet, you will be. The moment that technology happens this author will pull all his real face photos off FL. 

Click the article below for more info: