The porn star gurn: photos in this blog 2

Still talking about how I pick illustrations for this blog.

4 Illustrate the damn story

Sometimes the story makes it clear, at least to me, what the picture should show. Let’s say the story has got to the point where the heroine is kneeling, at the top of a staircase, giving head to the anti-hero (that’s me). She has her hands tied behind her back. Also, she’s dyed some but not all of her hair blue, and she has a huge tattoo on her lower belly. She has fresh cane stripes across her arse. 

If you’re a regular reader, you’ll have recognised Raylene from that description. And perhaps you wondered if you missed an episode, because that hasn’t happened in the story so far. It’s something that happened a couple of months after the day I’ve been talking about. I’ll probably tell how that came to be, and what it meant, later.

But my chances of finding a picture that comes even close to illustrating that are pretty small. The blue hair and tattoo will have to go, for starters: too much to hope for. I’ll probably have to forget about finding a photo with stairs in it.

I’m going searching now. 

This one loses the blue hair and the tattoo, and it’s nowhere near any stairs, though at least it has a bedroom setting. It’s obviously a hotel room, which is wrong for the feel entirely. 

fellatio2But at least this girl has her hands tied behind her back, and she’s giving head, and she may not have cane marks, but the thing round her neck at least gives it a bdsm ambience. 

But it’s completely wrong for Raylene. Even in old jeans and a holey jersey she had far more style than that. And she would never, ever, not in this millennium or the next wear nothing but high heels, or wear high heels for sex.

Maybe no-one else cares, but I imagine Raylene’s disgust at the girl’s hair and heels, and I realise I’d be insulting her if I used that pic to represent her. 

So I keep on searching. I have to reject several pics because they’re all about huge cock pride first, and the woman only second, and that’s not what I’m thinking of either.

fellatio1So in the end, out of desperation I pick this one, because at least the woman’s hair is dark and straight, which Raylene’s was where it wasn’t blue. This girl may be Japanese, but she looks more like Raylene than the other girl.

And she’s not using her hands, which is important. I tied Raylene’s hands exactly because it made her task more difficult and forced her to work harder. 

So the pic illustrates almost nothing I set out to capture. But the search took me hours, and this was still the best I could do. 

I’m out of time. More tomorrow. 

 

The porn star gurn: photos in this blog 1

A reader commented that my gratuitous damn pictures aren’t safe for work. I don’t think she was seriously complaining; it was just that a pic of a pretty girl having a shower had popped up on my blog, and on her computer screen, just as her tutor was looking over her shoulder. And so she was outed as a reader of mildly kinky erotica. 

Anyway, I said I’d explain the rationale behind my use of illustrations. So here goes… 

1  Resemblance

The first thing is that all of the stories I tell here are true, except where I’ve indicated otherwise.

Cute socks. But the paddling should only happen to someone who has the right not to be paddled

Nice little kilt, cute socks. But paddling should only happen to someone who has the right to choose not to be in a relationship in which she gets her ass paddled. So I’ll never paddle a real schoolgirl: only fake ones.

I wrote a “spanked schoolgirl” story for a woman who really liked that story-universe. But I’ve never spanked a schoolgirl. Never would. An adult woman in a little kilt is a different question. And in a recent story I borrowed an incident that’d happened with a different woman, and moved it into the story I was telling at the time. I think those are the only exceptions.  

Qing is a real person, and so is Raylene. And so is Senimelia, Ana, Sa’afia, and so on. However, I’ve changed their names and anything else that might be an identifying piece of information, and I’m not going to use a real photo of them.

I look for photos that capture something of the way they looked, at least to me, but that are also different enough to misdirect anyone who actually happens to know the people concerned. I don’t quite know why I try for that kind of resemblance. It just feels right. But it can take hours, by the way.

2 “Realness”

Yeah, I know: “Like, what is Real?” asked Jesting Pilate. “What’s that even mean?”

A picture otherwise unlikely to appear on this blog

A picture otherwise unlikely to appear on this blog

I know that the women who work in mainstream porn are “real” people, and I don’t mean any disrespect to them. But I tend to avoid pictures of bodies that are too sculptured or fake tanned, and I’m put off by pictures that include breasts, eyes and mouths that look like they’ve had what’s called “work”. 

I prefer pictures – and women, in real life – who look “natural”. I know that straight men underestimate how much make-up it sometimes takes to make a woman look like she isn’t wearing make-up. I know that “real”, “natural”, and their opposites, don’t mean as much as we like to think. And “looks natural” means something very different from “natural”.

“Natural” is too hard to define, or recognise. That’s why I wrote “looks natural”.

Still, I tend to fancy a woman who works at a bookshop I drop in at, or who is doing check-out at a supermarket, or is just strolling down the street, much more than I fancy most porn stars. They seem more “real”. So the pictures I choose reflect that. Not out of policy; to me they just look better.

3 The porn star gurn

Demonstrating the porn star gurn

Demonstrating the porn star gurn: she may also make dry moan and say, “yes, yes, yes!”

I know lesbians – well, bi girls, mostly – who find girl-on-girl porn made for men depressing because the girls’ cunts are dry: they may have a lubrication glaze, but they are obviously not turned on. An equivalent is the face a bored model pulls to show she’s in the throes of sexual ecstasy.

Even if she’s an attractive woman, the porn star gurn shows that she’s not interested, which is a turn-off. And she thinks her audience is so stupid that they won’t know, which is an additional turn-off.

Anyway, I try to keep gurning, sex-related or otherwise, out of this blog’s Magic Toyshop of images. 

The non-porn gurn

Demonstrating the non-porn gurn

“Gurning”, by the way, is an Irish term that means pulling an extreme face to make the gurner’s head look very, very weird. It’s a kind of transformation that the heroes do, on a bigger scale, in many Gaelic epics. Anyway, gurning is a thing. They have competitions for it. 

I don’t how long other people take to select photos. Anyway, I’m out of time for this post, but have more to say about images. So I’ll continue this tomorrow. 

By the way, I had a great-uncle who used to go in for gurning competitions in the pub in his town, which had a lot of ex-patriate Irish. He won certificates for it, which was honourable if not profitable. To give a better idea of the type of guy he was, he also used to say: “Have a Great Day! Day, not Dane. Jesussss…” This will be his only mention in this blog. 

Crazy monkey attack woman!

This, apparently, is a Sexy Monkey costume. I'm not sure that real monkeys would recognise it.

This, apparently, is a Sexy Monkey costume. I’m not sure that real monkeys would recognise it.

Someone just found this blog by typing this into a search engine: نساء سس مع قرود.

So I put that Arabic phrase into Google, and it took me to a whole lot of sites about monkeys sexually attacking women. Hey, there’s porn of it! “Crazy monkey attack hot women!” “Two girls, one monkey!” And so on and suchlike. 

Which led me to wondering how the guy (we’ll assume it’s a guy, shall we?) who typed that got directed to my blog.

I’ve never posted anything that catered for his taste. I’m not into humans having sex with animals. Not just “not interested”;  I hate disapproving of things, but I disapprove of people fucking animals, or setting things up so the animal has to fuck a human.

If I was arguing the case against bestiality I’d say it’s wrong because it’s non-consensual, since animals can’t consent. (Ah-hah! Someone could say: you reckon animals consent to be killed and eaten?)

Then I’d say it tends to be cruel. (And someone could work out some arrangement in which the animal was neither hurt nor frightened, and the human was consenting.)

And then I’d fall back on the yuck factor. Bestiality squicks me. That’s no basis for making law and policy (plenty of people are still squicked by sex between men), so I don’t have a very strong case. Still, I can do what I like, and not do what I don’t like, on my own blog.

Anyway, I guess he found one of my posts about bonobos, which would have included the words “monkeys”, at least as in “bonobos are not monkeys”, “sex” and “woman”. And I hope he also found complete satisfaction. 

Apologia pro vita sua (my lousy excuse for a life)

Sorry about the lack of posts.

I’ve been unreasonably busy on life stuff, organising and hosting a munch, taking a half a ton of iron and wood to the tip, dismantling someone else’s carpentry (an old workbench) and doing some of my own (posts for a trellis, for growing loganberries, passionfruit and kiwifruit). Plus all that sordid earning a living stuff. The worst thing about work is that you have to do things you don’t especially feel like. 

And there’s something else that may make this a blog written by a more cheerful man, but it’d be, oh, you know, inappropriate to talk about that. 

I’ll get on with the Raylene story soon, so that she finally gets off the stairs, after getting off on the stairs, but I’ll only have time to write that in the next couple of days. 

So to prove this is still a live blog, and it’s about bdsm here’s … 

Nuns aren't my thing, so I'm never going to write about them. So if you like bdsm nuns, this is just for you.

Nuns aren’t my thing, so I’m never going to write about them. So if you like bdsm nuns, this is just for you.

Complete obedience to loving authority. Ah, it must be Wonder Woman.

Complete obedience to loving authority. Ah, it must be Wonder Woman.

Missing “Story of O” scene discovered!

An episode from the later life of O has been discovered in the pocket of an overcoat in the Department of Lost Documents. It takes place shortly before O’s notorious entry into Celebrity Rehab. The manuscript appears to be in Harold Pinter’s hand-writing.

bouncy!(First Bouncer, a man in a too-tight tuxedo, stands in a doorway under a discreet sign that reads: “Sir Stephen’s: All-nite Bdsm Club”.)  

First Bouncer: Quiet tonight.

(The club door opens and the Second Bouncer appears, pushing a naked woman, with “I Heart Sir Stephen” branded on her left buttock, out the door and down the steps.)

Second Bouncer: You shouldn’t be coming back, ma’am.

First Bouncer: I was saying, quiet tonight.

Second Bouncer: Mmf.

O (for the naked woman is she): Lemme back inside, you Nazi bastard!

Second Bouncer: You were bothering the proprietor, ma’am.

O: Look, all I said was, ‘Dominate me, Steve, you know, like in the old days?’ So what’s wrong with a girl asking for a bit of attention?

Second Bouncer: Sir Stephen says you’ve been stalking him.

First Bouncer: He said he can’t look out his window without you on his lawn, screaming for a flogging.

O: I belong to him! He must punish me.

070-02314_TFirst Bouncer: Rattling your pussy rings at him.

Second Bouncer: Most upsetting.

O: He put them on my body when he made me his!

First Bouncer: They’re not bloody castanets, you know.

Second Bouncer: Anyway, you were upsetting the patrons.

O: Patrons! I was upsetting his new slaveboi, more like. But, oh well… [Sighs.] You know, you’re kinda cute yourself, aren’t you? And you were pretty masterful, back there. A girl likes that.

Second bouncer: I’m gay, ma’am.

O: Oh. Well, how about…

First Bouncer: I’m submissive.

O: Men! You’re useless, the lot of you. I’m off to Anne-Marie’s. [O stomps off.]

Second Bouncer: Yeah. Pretty quiet.

[He holds the door for the proprietor, who leads another man on a leash.]

Sir Stephen: Coming, René?

René: No, Master, it’s just the way I’m standing.

[Tish-boom! Black-out.]