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It's a beautiful summer day, and I'm whistling to myself as I rotate the can opener, dumping the contents into the metal bowl. I look at the dog bed on the floor- empty. I'm surprised that the sound of the opener isn't enough to begin a small stampede of one, but am grateful for small blessings.

If anyone had told me years ago that I would be training a puppy, and that I would be happy about it, I would have laughed in their faces. A cat person, bred and born, that was me. But sometimes the perfect puppy just falls into your lap, and then what can you do? Those big eyes, that excitedly wagging tail... you fall in love and it's all over.

"C'mere Pup! It's time for breakfast!" I call into the house, and from a distant room, I hear him coming. I hear the clunk of his body as it hits the floor (probably he shunned his dog bed for mine, again) and the scrabble as he struggles to gain purchase on the wooden floors. Then he starts to bark, joyously, and it echoes through the otherwise empty house. I laugh as he bowls into the kitchen, licking my hands, pushing his head against my legs, and begging for his breakfast. I put the bowl down for him, and it's all slurping noises and wagging tails.

My puppy isn't like other puppies, mind. I don't often take him to the dog park or out for walks, though I do sometimes let him run around in the back garden. He's stand out among the other puppies. He's 5' 10", brunette, with blue blue eyes and pale skin that looks so pretty when I cane him. He's not as furry as the other puppies, and he's generally naked except for some knee pads and his puppy mitts. At least I don't have to take him out to use the bathroom- Pup's potty trained!

I'm particularly excited about today because I've taught him some tricks and it's time for us to practice them. I want to enter him in the Dog and Pony show, and he needs to be in fighting form. We've been working on the basics- sit, stay, roll over, heel, fetch. He's still a little too excitable to heel properly, and he gets distracted when fetching, but we have some time. I make myself some tea, get a jar of peanut butter and some biscuits, and pick up my book, settling into the living room to wait for my Pup to be done with his breakfast.

I'm only a couple of pages in when his nose nudges my book out of the way, his big blue eyes looking hopeful. I smile and rub him just behind his ear- he loves that. Then I reach behind me and grab his collar, the tags jingling as I show it to him. He pants.

"Sit," I say firmly, and he sits promptly, his legs folded underneath him, his uncut cock peeking out between his thighs. I buckle the collar around his neck and kiss his forehead. "Good boy," I murmur, and he barks with pleasure. Now it's time for practice to begin.

"Present!"

He quickly obeys, on his hands and knees, back arched, his legs shoulder length apart. Pup stays perfectly still as I walk around him, examining his teeth, his muscle tone, his cock (which is getting harder by the second). Kneeling beside him, I tickle and tease his sides, watching him tense, wanting to squirm but wanting to please me. I pat his head. All this practice is paying off.

"Ok!" I cry brightly, and he relaxes and licks my cheek. Ugh. I'm still not used to that! But I can't help but laugh. I pick up a fuzzy squeaky toy from his dog bed and wave around. "Come on, let's go outside and get to work, boy!"

He scrambles down the stairs and scratches at the door, whining a little. I give him a warning look. "No whinging!" I scold, and open the door to let him out. Immediately he starts rolling around in the grass. There's not a lot of space in my garden so we've had to adapt. I toss the toy a few feet and say, "go fetch, Pup!"

I watch him hurl himself at the toy, picking it up in his teeth and dropping it at my feet, panting. Being my Pup is an active proposition! It's far more fun than the gym, though.I toss the toy another couple of times, admiring his ass as he scampers about. Then it's time for the commands. We have "sit" down, so I want to practice "heel" and "roll over".

We start with the rolling and I giggle watching him roll around in the grass. For a show it needs to be more controlled, not just flailing, so I use a clicker to tell him when he's doing well, and a rolled up newspaper correct him and keep him in line. Whenever he gets the move correct I click and feed him some biscuit with peanut butter on it. What? I've learned a lot from "It's Me or the Dog".

When I'm satisfied with his ability to roll on command, we practice heel. I love the idea of him walking just behind me, perfectly positioned to be my companion when out at fetish events, but he gets pretty overstimulated and gets under my feet. This time I start with him on a leash, telling him to heel and waiting until we're synced. There's something really special about our connection when we practice this together, a loving control that comes out more easily during these training sessions than any other time. And it really, really turns me on.

It doesn't take long before I decide I'm satisfied with his work and I'm wet and horny and want him on me. We've never taken this step, though, and I'm not sure how to ask my human puppy if he's willing to take this further. So I dip my fingers in the peanut butter, sitting on one of the gardening stools, and let him lick my fingers clean, murmuring "good boy, good boy" as I ruffle his hair. I decide to take a chance and dip my fingers in again, only this time I raise my skirts and spread the peanut butter over my inner thigh.

"Go ahead boy," I say softly, and, after looking at me questioningly, he begins to lick gently at the peanut butter, moving closer and closer to my panties. Pup sniffs them, unsure at first, then he gets into it too, nuzzling my cunt through the cloth. I moan, softly, one hand gripping a leg on the stool. Then he pushes more insistently, and I see that this is as hot for him as it is for me- his cock is rock hard now, and he's rubbing it ever so slightly on my boot. I stand briefly to pull the panties off, sitting back on the stool and spreading my legs wide to give him access.

His tongue teases my labia at first, slipping between my lips to probe my clit. I gasp. It's so intense, being outside, thegrass tickling my ankles, the sun on my thighs, my Pup licking and nibbling at my cunt. He flicks his tongue over my clit, little sparks of pleasure followed by long, sensual strokes that push me closer and closer to the edge. Finally I can't take it and I shove him away- he whimpers, confused, but I lie on the grass and reach for him.

"Come," I whisper, brokenly, and he does, mounting me and thrusting into me in one swoop. He fucks me there on the grass, hard, growling and biting my neck as I cry out and dig my nails into his back. I draw some blood and smear it on his face, feeling primal. We fuck, as you might imagine, like animals. I cum intensely, with a guttural growl of my own, biting into his shoulder hard enough to bruise.

He cums soon after, shuddering into my body as I tell him in his ear what a good puppy, what a filthy puppy he is, how proud he makes me. I feel overwhelmed by my love for him, fiercely protective. Mine mine mine.

We lie there, dazed, and watch the clouds- I mostly clothed, pressed against his naked body.

"With more practices like this", I think, "we're going to own that dog show!"

I'm all about rechargeable vibrators, eco-awareness, reducing your carbon bootprint, etc.

In theory.

But god, if I didn't regret that decision this morning! It was the first morning my uncle, aunt, cousins AND grandmother were all out of the house and out of the way. I had come home to a house that was armed with the alarm system my grandmother bought and never used. By the time I found out how to disarm the bloody thing, two sets of neighbors had been woken up at 11pm and the cops had shown up. Awesome. It was kind of stressful.

I haven't been able to find my hitachi anywhere- and I have two. It's ridiculous. I know one of them is in London, but I could've sworn I had one here and it's nowhere to be found! So I asked around for suggestions on the next best thing- and, I thought, maybe a rechargeable this time. Why not, I always get tangled in the cords and it'd be nice to be a little more flexible about where I use it.

Now keep in mind I have several rechargeable vibrators. And they're lovely, but I want need a vibrator with a little lot more oomph. I call the difference between styles of vibration "the bumblebee and the jackhammer". I'm a jackhammer kind of girl. So when I looked for something to add to my toy collection I wanted something that would really shake me to the core. My clit demands nothing less.

I had already tried the Siri, which I like a lot (and actually was my godsend today) but it can take a while. The vibration is strong, but it won't make my pussy close to numb, which is what I need sometimes, especially after stress. So I went to Good Vibrations to find something else. I considered the bigger (and waterproof) Mystic Wand, but it needed batteries and I thought "nah", figuring that I didn't want to fumble around looking for double AAs when I wanted a wank. Then I thought the Acuvibe, but it was a little more than I wanted to spend experimenting, and some of the reviews on Amazon suggested it might crap out after a few months.

I eventually chose the Mini Mystic Wand, figuring that even if it wasn't quite strong enough it was good for porn shoots and travel to have a small powerful vibe that charges via your mobile phone plug or your laptop. Sounds good right? And the price wasn't that much more than getting another hitachi, plus I figured it was different enough to be a worthwhile addition. Charging took only a couple of hours (and I skipped ahead and used it after 1 so). And it was good- strong vibration- but the highest setting wasn't as high as the low setting on the hitachi, which is what I wanted. So in a pinch, I can make it work, but not quite right. Plus   it has these weird annoying pulse settings- why, I don't know. Pulse settings never ever do it for me. Do they do it for you? Tell me in the comments, cause I've never met someone who said they loved the pulses. The Siri even has this one pulse setting that's musical... is it for novelty or is that what works for someone? I don't know. I'd rather have more power than bells and whistles.

So then I looked around further and found the Ideal vibrator (sorry, massager) from Natural Contours. I've tried one of their products before, the BonBon, and it was ok. I also remembered seeing the Ideal at Sh! in London. Plus it had a nice L shape so I thought it might not hurt my hands as much as my tension on the hitachi does. So I bought it and waited. Hoping.

It came today. "How convenient!" I thought. "I'm alone in the house!" So I ripped the packaging off and ran downstairs to plug it in, figuring that I could use it plugged in, and then let it charge fully as I lay in my bed panting, sweating, and happy.

No.

No, you can't. You have to let it charge first. There's even a sticker over the toggle that says "do not use this vibrator while plugged into the wall! You must let it fully charge the first time for 10 hours!"

Yeah. That's right. 10 HOURS. 10 hours! I was not pleased, that's for sure. I fussed a bit. Then I grabbed the mini Mystic, thinking "you'll do" and realized it needed to charge too. ARGH! So I dug around for the cord and eventually found it and plugged it in. So this became the scene of my "quick wank" I was hoping for- cords everywhere, little red lights (evil, evil!).

The Siri, at least, was still pretty well charged up so I went for it and eventually came with a frustrated "finally, for fuck's sake" muttered under my breath. What I had intended to be a 5 minute quickie became an hour long ordeal. It's ridiculous. 10 hour charge. It had damn well better be worth it when it's done!

Rechargeables. I love them, in theory, and they're often just so much more powerful. In practice I found myself wishing I had one of my battery operated bullet vibes at hand. I think in the future I will, for emergencies such as this. You have to be so organized with making sure everything is plugged in and charged up and I'm not the best at that- I have a hard enough time remembering to plug in my phone half the time.

Or maybe I just need a power strip next to my bed for all my sex toys. Hmm....

It was a lesson in patience, that's for sure. I was never a patient sort of girl so maybe this was a small way for the universe to slap me upside the head about that.

Still, I think from now on, I'll keep some spare batteries by the bed... just in case.

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With subculture events in existence to cover all sorts of things, it's really not surprising that my attention has been drawn to events focused on fat people. Of course, most of them would not say "we love fat people", because the word "fat" is still too charged for so bold a statement, but in various euphemistic terms- "celebrate your curves", the "beauty of size", etc, they say "yes, you're fat, and that's sexy too". Ok, cool. I like that. I don't see why I should have to celebrate all the time (seriously, most of these sites/events, somewhere in their text, they'll say that they celebrate something about being fat. Do we get balloons?) but I appreciate that people are trying to acknowledge that fat people can be sexually desirable beings with sexualities of their own. 

Oh wait, sorry, did I say people? I mean women, of course. These are almost always parties to say how sexy fat women are. Look at the above banner for one such party- mostly fat women, the occasional slender man. Fat men are not visible, except, perhaps, as admirers of fat women. And may I note that this is a fucking drawing, so it's not like they can use the excuse "we couldn't find a model". 


No, for finding positive, sexualized depictions of fat men you'd have to go to the gay community, where bears, like the Bearlesque troupe seen here, take up a comfortable sexual space of their own. Gay fat men have claimed some autonomy.Straight fat male bodies, like straight male bodies in general, are not here to be looked at, but to be the ones looking, objectifying, fetishizing, in this world of "sex positivity" and body size. Nothing new there, then.


Argh. No wonder my boy is constantly paranoid about his sexual value.


But these "plus sized" parties exist- there's not many, but they're there- and I do appreciate that most of them aren't seen as fetish events, either, which is good. Let's face it though: Big Girls Paradise (home of the corseted "kittens" below), Goddess Parties, Full Figure Dolls, Heavenly Bodies- these are  And then, even as a woman, these events are rarely about being comfortable in your skin- maymay makes an excellent point about that in his own blog:

The following night at the SF Citadel was the inaugural Luscious party, billing itself as being the first BDSM party at the SF Citadel “to welcome people of all shapes.” Inexplicably, the theme of this first event was corsetry. Let me make this perfectly fucking clear: it’s awesome that people of all shapes and sizes can and do enjoy corsets, but the fact that the first party expressly welcoming “people of all shapes” asks you to change your shape is just one more example of how deeply BDSM Scene power brokers have internalized and then re-express overculture oppressions, in this case equating hourglass figures to beauty.

Most of these parties, as I clicked links and looked at party themes, talked about corsets, corsets, corsets. Hell, I looked into shooting some porn for mainstream BBW magazine Voluptuous XL, and they told me that my breasts weren't big enough to balance out my body. I have never in my LIFE wondered if my 36E tits were BIG enough!

It's more of the same- being a sexually appealing fat woman means fulfilling a stereotype, molding into the "right" shape for far women, just as being a dominant woman means wearing the fucking uniform. This is why I should go to female dominant clubs in a fucking bathrobe and bunny slippers and top the hell out of someone, to prove that a corset and heels are not magic items that allow me to do so. Plus I'd be comfortable. Isn't comfort sexy?

I want to point out here that all this talk about "curves" as a euphemism for "fat" is seriously problematic, not only because it allows fat people who aren't curvy to continue to be humiliated, particularly in the media, or because it erases fat men, butches, and other people for whom "curvy" isn't a correct or desired term. No, I find it to be an issue because "curvy" in our society means something else. Jennifer Lopez is curvy. She's not fat. If we called someone a "curve admirer" we'd probably mean that they prefer Kim Kardashian to Victoria Beckham. "Fat admirers" are called that for a reason.

All of this is why I'm so fucking glad things like this event, Burger Queen out in London, exist, because what Scottee is doing is punching back against this attitude that fat is bad:

Flick through any prime time TV spot and you'll find a gluttonous array of programs designed to point and laugh at obesity - Britain Biggest Loser, Britain's Fattest Man, Supersize VS Superskinny, Gok: Too Fat, Too Young - the list goes on but do these programs help solve the 'obesity timebomb' (Sunday Express) or have fatties become the modern freak show?  

Scottee thinks its about time we had some healthy role models in chub culture and invites you to the very first Burger Queen contest. 

Over 4 weeks Scottee is looking to crown Burger Queen 2011 - a beauty pageant for fat people and their friends. Each contestant will endure three rounds designed to find the perfect fatty to enter the final - these include Trend (fat fashion), Taste (your signature dish) and Talent (light entertainment for heavy weights) - the competition is open to chub admirers too, anyone of any size can enter - fat is a politic not a dress size!

Just as an example: I was glad as anyone else when Lauren's shirt in "Born This Way" (Glee episode when they all wear shirts declaring something they're embarrassed about) said "Bad Attitude" and not something about her weight, or Mercedes' shirt, which said "no weave". But I shouldn't have felt so scared that Glee was going to actively perpetuate fat bashing- and yet, it's had some issues, never mind if look at the media buzz around "Mike and Molly". Don't get me started on the fact that "fat TV" is basically a genre now.

I think the way that Burger Queen is presented is what we need more of- irreverence and resistance. When Porn WikiLeaks was trying to get me to shut up about their smear campaign, the worst thing they could think to say about me was that I was fat. It deflated them utterly when I shrugged and said "yeah, and?" We need to stop letting out bodies be used as weapons against us.

So this is a call to pudgy arms. Let's show our bellies and stop worrying if we have a fucking muffin top over our jeans or if our thighs bulge out of shorts. Let's throw away uncomfortable, chafing "body shaping" tights and embrace sitting around naked. Let "fatty" become the "mary" or "molly" of our times.

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Some people go to one of those fancy leather shops in SoMa for their kinky gear.

Others swear by the Home Depot.

Personally, I'm happiest wandering the aisles at William Sonoma, my fingertips lightly dancing over the meat tenderizers and the pastry brushes, seeking inspiration. My lover's soft flesh had been massaged with the scratchy vegetable scrubbing gloves, reddened by spankings with the smoothest of cheese boards, pinched by the delicate fish tweezers. I gain a special sort of sadistic pleasure by pulling something out of a kitchen drawer and watching his eyes as he tries to work out how I'll use it on him.

But it had gotten to a point where the possibilities seemed exhausted. I had bruised him with rubber spatulas, fucked his ass with a pestle. I felt bored, restless. I wanted something new, and wasn't sure if I had finally perverted my last utensil.

That's when I saw the avocado cuber. A fist-sized cage of wire, shaped to fit the contours of an avocado's flesh. I smiled, wickedly, and put it into my basket. An idea began to swirl in my mind as I carried it to the counter and paid.

My lover was home when I arrived. I found him kneeling on the floor of the kitchen with his apron on, some herbs halfway minced on the counter. I enjoy having a submissive who is as in love with the kitchen as I am, a fellow foodie who revels in the novelty kitchen supplies I bring home. He delights my senses with meals that tantalize them all- friends always commented on how lovely our house smelled thanks to his cooking. And in exchange, when our friends have all gone home, those utensils that had often so recently been used to prepare culinary delights were used again to tease his body.

I smiled to see him there, his rounded ass peeking out behind the bow of his only clothing. I let my eyes linger on his bare feet, his pink nipples, his rounded belly. Nothing he ever made me was as delicious as he was. I kissed his forehead, bowed, eyes to the floor. I saw a smile touch his lips.

"Hello my love," I said as I opened the paper bag and put the avocado cuber into the freezer. "Can you spare me a few minutes or are you in the middle of something?"

"I'm available for you to do as you please, Sir", he murmured. Such a good boy, remembering that no matter how femme I am I prefer Sir to Mistress. I would have to reward him later.

"Good. Then go to our room and fetch the rope and a blindfold," I said, "and I will meet you in the living room. Off you go!" He stood, gracefully, and trotted off after I patted his ass. I took the avocado cuber, now chilled, and a few other bits, then walked into the living room. He entered, crawling to my feet with the blindfold and rope in his teeth, and knelt up to offer them to me. I tied the blindfold on, then helped him stand as I moved around behind him, my fingers wandering over his hips and tickling up his sides. He shivered but didn't move. I had trained him well.

Using the apron strings I bound his hands behind him then stepped back to survey my handiwork. The apron let his nipples peek out from behind, coyly. and it barely skimmed the shaft of his cock. I could see it beginning to stiffen, the foreskin beginning to pull back over the head as I traced cookie cutter patterns over his skin. Time for the cuber, then. Quickly I wound the ropes around the edge of the cagelike device, wrapping the rope around my submissive's waist and through again to create a sort of jockstrap. Grinning evilly, I tightened the ropes, letting the chilly cuber cup his cock. The intake of breath was worth the price alone as he tried to work out what I had gotten, what I would do, how long I would make him wear this cold cage.

I pulled out the fluted pastry wheel and began by rolling it over his neck, one of my hands in his hair to keep him still. He moaned, letting his head fall to further expose my neck to the wheel and I moved it up to the back of his ear, then back down, down to flick the edge over his nipples. They stiffened pleasingly under the stimulation. I darted my tongue over each one, nibbling gently, then firmly, my arm moving around his waist to hold him up as I bit. His knees buckled a little but he recovered quickly, his cock stiffening despite himself to press against its cage. I tsked warningly. My lover swallowed hard.

"Did you just move, my lovely?" I said, my voice dripping with sweetness.

He whimpered a bit, then nodded yes. At least he was honest.

Quick as a flash I grabbed my next tool, an icing spatula made of metal, and pressed it against his throat, gripping him close with one arm so he couldn't wriggle away. My lips brushed against his ear and I hissed, "don't you want to be a good boy for me? All I want is for you to stay still, you can do that, can't you my love?"

Another swallow, then a nod, more vigorously this time. "Y..y...yes Sir. I can be still. I'm sorry Sir."

I chuckled warmly. "That's a good boy." I left my hand slide over the avocado cuber, trapping his cock inside. It was beginning to look a little uncomfortably cramped in there. Good. That means this was working. I took my last tool, a brand new grillling brush, in my hand, and began to rake it across his flesh, watching it turn from pale to rosy red. He groaned, but stayed still. Little lines began to appear, some of them bleeding a bit as I rubbed him raw. I liked giving him a challenge. He had scars from challenges before.

A tear formed then fell from one cheek. I licked it off, then licked the sweat and blood from his back. "You've been such a tolerant boy, well done. I think you deserve a reward." He nodded, agreeing, and I laughed, untying his hands and removing the blindfold. "Get on the floor," I said huskily, sliding my panties off, leaving everything else- shoes, skirt, shirt- on. "On your back. Now."

He obliged, wincing as his raw skin rubbed against the carpet. I melted inside, my cunt wet with his willingness to submit to my cruelty. I climbed on top of him, pulling his apron up to expose the cuber. I wanted him, quickly, now, and untying the ropes felt too difficult. I groped for some scissors on the coffee table, cut them off, tossing the avocado cuber across the room in my eagerness to get to his cock. I spat into my palm, rubbing my wet hand over his shaft before sliding my cunt over and onto him. My lover's cock was perfect to me- not too long, but thick, rubbing me in all the right ways. I grabbed the icing spatula and held it against his throat, not letting him see it, letting him think it was a knife as I rode him hard.  My other hand held his arms down as I kissed and bit him in turns. His cock throbbed inside me, but this wasn't about him. My orgasm came fast and sweet, shattering my body with an intensity that felt almost painful in its brightness. Sated, I fell on top of him, discarding the spatula and embracing him as I rested my head on his chest, his cock still hard inside me. I sighed happily, and he wrapped his arms around me, smiling.

"So, shall I make dinner then, Sir?" he asked wryly, and I kissed him.

I apologize at the beginning of this review that I don't have appropriate photos to accompany it- it's pretty hard to hold a camera for a photo and pee through a stand-to-pee device at the same time! Who would've thought?

This is the GoGirl, a stand-to-pee device sent to me by Good Vibrations. Nifty, huh? I've always loved the idea of being able to stand to pee, particularly when camping, at a festival, or otherwise without access to a toilet. The idea is that you cup the device around your cunt , and it funnels the urine away from you. Then you can shake the device off (made of medical silicone, so you can boil to clean it, or use antibacterial soap) and stick it in the biodegradable bag hidden inside the tube. There's even tissues to wipe after, a nice touch. Then, you can pack it all up again by folding it and hiding it back in the tube for easy transport in your purse (just don't forget to put another couple of tissues in there for the next emergency). It comes in lavender or khaki.

The only thing I would suggest is give this thing a practice run before depending on it. You may need to control your stream a bit so it doesn't overflow! That didn't happen to me (yet) but I can see it being a possibility, so practice in the shower first. Or on your lover, if you're into watersports. ;) In fact, if you have a lover who likes to drink piss, this is the perfect way to direct your stream into their mouth, on their chest, into a wine glass or a sippie cup... I'm just that kind of pervert, what can I say?

Hell, you can use it in a fix to fill up a water bottle if you feel so inclined. Just wash it thoroughly first, eh?

Thanks to Good Vibrations for sending me this in exchange for an honest review! It's definitely made me interested in exploring other stand-to-pee devices, though with that handy little tube to store it in, the GoGirl may well come out tops anyway!

I was reading a post by maymay, along with a post he linked to, both about the devaluation of male submission. It's something that hurts me, deeply, because it hurts the boy deeply. And it has, as far as I can tell, for most of his kinky life. His female lovers get asked to pose for photos, while he's shoved into the shadows. I get paid to do kinky things while he would have to pay to have a similar experience. I get annoyed at feeling like my body is constantly on display because I'm female, while he feels crushed that his body isn't seen as an object of desire because he's male. We are made aware, all the time, of our gender differences and how that affects community reaction to us, as a couple and as individuals. And the kinky community perpetuates this nonsense.

When the boy told me about his experience being trained for the femdom club we go to in London, I was kind of saddened, though not surprised. Half the dommes training the house slaves were prodommes, for a start- which is fine, of course, in theory (hell, I do prodomming, some of my best friends, etc), but disappointing when female domination is so often characterized by professionals. Then add that the dommes would say things like how worthless the slaves were, how tiny their cocks were, etc, and I just feel sick. The night itself is invigorating and useful to him- the boy likes to be made useful and bustling about was good for him- but the training sounded like a perpetuation of these femdom/malesub stereotypes that I hate so much. And I see how they affect him, how lessened he feels by being a male submissive. It kills me.

I appreciate him greatly. In our time together, he has become a pretty good cook, an excellent service submissive, my delicious whipping boy, my escort. He's learned massage, he's learned how I like my tea, he's learned how to make my bed, and I can trust, now, that if I ask him to put clothes away he'll know where they go and how to fold them. He helps me throw events, even though it's not something he considers his skill and sometimes it frustrates him- but he knows it's important to me, and so he does it.

I can't imagine taking that for granted, or not appreciating him, or, worse, making him feel like he was useless to me. If anything, I acutely feel the loss of him now, alone in California! He is my pillow, my submissive Daddy, my ladies valet. He offers me so much strength, support, and love.

I love my submissive- I love feeling his weight over me, watching his eyes scrunch up when I pinch his nipples, his mouth open when I bite. I love fondling his flaccid cock as we watch TV, enjoying the softness of his skin, the tenderness of the touch. I love the way the pudge around his middle comes out over his waistband, like baking bread. I love resting my head on his chest, his arm around me, his lips kissing my forehead. I could never be the sort of dominant woman who doesn't have this kind of intimacy with her submissive, it means far too much.

Yeah, sure, I enjoy beating him, parading him around at parties, making him suck my cock, but if that was all I wanted him for we'd have split after the first argument. No, the services he provides me are more subtle and vastly more important to me than that. He offers me a shoulder to cry on, passionate arguments, endless laughter, a sense of home. He offers me willingness, openness, letting me do what I like to his body and trusting me to sculpt his mind. I adore that my queer friends embrace him as one of their own, that he is welcomed into spaces that are mostly women because he is conscious of his male privilege. He is precious to me, not interchangeable in the slightest, incredibly valuable and valued.

I can only hope that as his Sir I give him security, love, and strength in return. Because I don't want someone worthless. I don't want someone with no self esteem, who will do everything I say. What good is that to me? I would bore of them quickly- devotion is meaningless without a connection, a spark, something that clicks, and I want a submissive I can trust to take care of things for me, to represent me when I'm not around. Some sniveling worm would reflect poorly on me, not least because they're no challenge.

I wish femdom clubs reflected more of that sort of relationship- less parasitism, more partners moving in symbiosis. I never wanted a Severin in my life- I wanted Jeeves. And I think that's true a lot more often than is shown. When the boy was being trained, and on the night, a few Dommes noticed how good he was at serving, how dedicated he was to being made useful, how pleased that made him. And I couldn't have been prouder. *That's* what I want from my submissive- pride in service. I am always touched by how readily he says yes to the things I want to explore with him- that sort of trust is powerful.

I am flattered and proud at how much he's developed, how willing he's been to learn to become the submissive I wanted... and he has met that hope more than I ever could've wished for. What better demonstration of devotion than that- self-improvement to better yourself for your Dom? That seems to be far more reflective of a service than whinging about how small your cock is.

(Also, for the record the boy's cock is totally perfect.)

So I hope to see more reflections of that kind of tenderness and care between two people who compliment each other in BDSM, and less of this gender stereotyped bullshit.

Let's challenge this assumption that male submissives are useless. If female submissives went around saying half the shit that male submissives do, we would protest that their low self-esteem was an issue (and making them vulnerable), so let's equally say that for male submissives. I really don't see how putting submissive men down, not looking at them as sexually attractive, not displaying images of them on fetish flyers or at fetish shops, does anything but continue the idea that women are to be looked at, the product, and men are there to pay for the privilege to look.

Fuck that noise.

Before I left the UK, I wanted to do one more toy review with my boy. We decided to give the Foreplay Ice Vibrator a try, from Good Vibrations, as we've enjoyed playing a bit with various sensations before. I had meant to give it a go a lot sooner, but we accidentally left it in his mum's freezer- whoops! Glad she didn't find it and ask what it was!

What I liked about this toy, and why I chose it, was the fact that there's a layer of silicone between your skin and  the ice. The other ICE toys don't, and while the melting sensation can be fun too, I kind of wanted a toy with minimal mess!

Basically this vibrator has a 3-speed bullet vibe that blocks the opening you use to fill the silicone bit with water. You can then freeze the toy for later use! The bullet is a simple plastic one, nice to use on its own as well as with the silicone bit. I really liked pulling the bullet out after the ice had melted and using the cold plastic on the boy's skin. The silicone holds onto the cold really well, and is body safe and sterilizable. The vibe isn't too loud, either. I would love to give this toy a go in a hot tub to play with hot and cold sensations!

The silicone has some nubs on the bottom, which adds some additional nice sensation. We found this to be most enjoyable on nipples, though I've enjoyed it on my clit for a change of pace. As per usual, don't use silicone lube with this toy or it'll fall apart!

This is a very subtle toy, easy to leave out without worrying about what people will think it is. I'd recommend it for people who want to experiment with cold sensation play without puddles, to spice up a hot bath or hot tub experience, or to surprise a blindfolded lover.

Thanks to Good Vibrations for letting us play with the foreplay ice vibrator in exchange for an honest review!

It's that time of year again- time for me to leave my beloved London for my exile to San Francisco.

Before you say I'm being melodramatic, yes, it really does feel like that. In London I have great night buses, a lovely flat, my partner, a flexible job, health care... here, I have a basement in the hills with no way to escape. Ugh. But I'm stuck here til November and I'm going to try to make the best of it if I can.

Leaving the boy behind has to have been the hardest thing I've done in a long time. We're rarely apart, except for these exiles, and this will be the longest yet- twice as long as the last one. It feels like Victorian surgery to my heart, ripping into me, a scalpel with no anesthetic. Horrible, horrible. But then, he is my best friend along with being my lover and submissive, so no wonder it hurts.

He did ask me to marry him, however, much to my delight! I know we're playing a long game, really... we won't be getting married any sooner than a year, I imagine... but it's worth it. I never really thought I would meet someone I would feel so passionately in love with a year and a half in (forget 7 year itch, I had the 7 month version!) but I feel like I have met my soulmate. He is totally my other half (and sometimes, jokingly, my twin... people do ask if we're related, which adds a hot taboo edge to our kink).

I didn't anticipate when I met him at a female dominant club that I would be thinking about living together or whose name we're going to take when we marry. I figured we'd go on a few dates and things would be fun and then maybe it would all crumble, because I've never had a relationship work for any length of time, particularly with distance, and, I'll admit it, kink and non monogamy. I haven't found lovers in the past really devoted to working on the relationship, to working on issues around keeping the sex hot and fun, to be willing to discuss what works and what doesn't with nonmonogamy. And yet here I am, in couples counseling with my lovely boy sorting our shit out together, contemplating how I went from fiercely poly to weirdly emotionally monogamous. Far more than I expected from a night out, but god, am I glad I spoke to the pretty boy in the bunny ears!

Yeah, yeah, I know, mushy emotional stuff, let's all vomit in our mouths a little. But I'm allowed sentimentality. :) Plus, it was a very romantic proposal, in a gazebo by a castle in Whitstable, with him on one knee and everything. I'm wearing my engagement ring over my promise ring that he got me in December. I miss him dreadfully.

But I'm doing what I always do- unpacking my things, reading, buying food that reminds me of the UK, drinking buckets of tea. Thinking of stuff to keep me busy. Trying to be strong, even without my Daddy-submissive-foxboy.

I think I can do it.

For us, I can do it.

So recently (a couple of weekends ago) I got to host another Ladies High Tea and Pornography Society- one of the first in a really long time. I used to theme them- sci fi parodies, hentai, movie remakes- so this time I went with ethical porn, something I've developed a hard on for in the past few years!

For this High Tea, ethical porn was taken to mean pornography produced with the pleasure of the participants in mind- porn that did not depend on male-gaze shooting techniques- porn that showed body/gender/sexual orientation diversity- porn that allows the performers to have a say in how the action progresses and what happens.

With that theme in mind, we watched quite a few things- "Curse of Macbeth", "Bordello", "Roulette", "Billy Castro Does the Mission", "Post Apocalyptic Cowgirls" and  "Ladies of the Night". I had brought a bunch with me from my last trip to San Francisco and was excited to see what the ladies thought of it all! We got through so much porn that we ran out and ended up watching "Heads Up: The Official Guide to Fellatio" as well!

I get asked a lot what Ladies High Tea and Porn is like. Well, many of the ladies dress up, though it's not required, and everyone brings something to share- scones and jam, tea and cookies, cupcakes and cocktails. We've always had it as someone's house, so it's cozy and comfy!

This time we had a really lush place thanks to one of the lovely ladies, with a giant daybed that really made watching the films snuggly and relaxed. We had a great many cocktails, giggled and made fun of (or watched in rapt interest) the porn.

I had a fantastic time, giving a little intro to each film and explaining why I liked it or what made it special. It was really nice to have a space that was women-centred without it being serious or strictly political. I mean, I like those spaces too, but god it's great to have such a space where I'm chilling out, not angry!

Hopefully I'll be running one in SF and we'll run a webcam to one going on in London. That'd be awesome. I'm really grateful we got one together before I go back. It was a femme haven, and one that was sorely needed.

Of course, I can't tell you all that happened there. Let's just say it was a good time. ;)

(photos by AnaMorphic)

I always enjoy a new way to make ageplay a bit darker, a bit more sexual. And while I enjoy anal play, I'm still a little nervous about it. I've had some difficult experiences with anal play, and while I have metal, wood, rubber and silicone plugs, I tend to shy away from them unless I'm on my own and really, really turned on. And have almost a full bottle of lube.

Enter the pink, non-threatening, oh-so-cute Pop plug, which I got from Babeland in a large. What, don't laugh at me! I know from experience that small and medium plugs have a limited usage in my toy drawer. ;)

And how perfect is this? It's smooth, it's pretty, and it has a handy little loop for a lover's finger, or to attach a leash, or a little tail, or, as I did, a pink Princess pacifier clip. I have kind of a kinky Daddy, after all!

The large plug is about 2 1/2" of insertable length, and 1 1/2" at the widest point. It's made of body-safe, easy to sterilize silicone, and has a small, tapered end that makes insertion easy and controllable. You can clean this with a toy cleaner, soap and water, or pop it in the dishwasher (if you have that kind of household, obviously).

The Pop plug offers a lovely amount of fullness, a great design for those interested in exploring anal play but a little nervous. It's definitely good for beginners! Just don't use it with silicone lubricant (that'll ruin it); a nice, gel-like water based lube like Sliquid's Sassy Formula would be ideal.

I've tried a fair few butt plugs and this is definitely a favourite now. I really like the shape, I like that I could wear it around the house if I wanted to without worrying it'd slip out, and, well, it just looks really, really wrong on the end of a paci clip!

Whether you're into ageplay or not, the Pop plug in any one of its three sizes is a good purchase. Check them out at Babeland- and thanks, Babeland, for letting me try one out!