E[lust] 83: One-stop shop

Elust #83

Elust 83 Header Holden and Camille
Photo courtesy of Holden and Camille

Welcome to Elust #83 

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #84 Start with the rules, come back July 1st to submit something and subscribe to theRSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

London Crows and London Kisses

I am Her. She is Me.

You Say You Want to Cook for Me

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Unusual Liaison

Community. Respect. Friendship. Fucking.

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Dirty Little Secrets

A male dom, a straight girl and a bi girl wait for Lynette

A male dom, a straight girl and a bi girl wait for Lynette 2

A male dom, a straight girl and a bi girl stop waiting for Lynette

Poetry

You Know
O

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

My Bed
Secular Submission
My therapy
from “hard limit” to “want”
We Measure the Nostalgia
The Cure and The Cause

Events

Smut in the 6ix – Porn Conference & Gala

Erotic Fiction

Typing Errors
La Belle Dame
Sex and chocolate
The Imprisoned of HIM-HER-THEM
The Gift
audience
Becca’s Story
Rope and Fixtures
As salty as his cum…
Dominating the Doctor

Erotic Non-Fiction

Teen Sex in Woolly Tights with 60s Beat Music
Dear Sadist: Your Cruelty Is Your Love
A male dom, the straight girl and the bi girl
Owned, Leashed, & Beaten
Jan 2015 Owned & Collared by Mistress Claire
Rinse The Days Filth Away
Power On
Keeping tally

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Formative Kink Epic Fail: “Buck Rogers”

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

If it was easy anyone could do it
What’s a service submissive?
Prescient Words

Writing About Writing

What if aspirational meant something else?

 

ELust Site Badge

Orlando thoughts: the bdsm and LGBTI communities

The rainbow flag

The rainbow flag

Sometimes people in the bdsm community – that would include me – talk about discrimination against people who are known to be involved in bdsm.

For example, there was a Cabinet Minister in New Zealand who was outed by right-wing nutters as belonging to a bdsm club. That ended his political career. 

Women who have any sort of public profile can’t afford to be open about being dom, or submissive. People wrongly think a submissive is a doormat, and no women who is outed as someone who enjoys getting a good flogging in bed, or being tied up, artfully, is going to get to have a political career. (There are many out lesbians in politics where I live, but no out submissive women.) They won’t get to be Businesswoman of the Year, either, no matter how great their achievements are. 

The BDSM Rights flag

The BDSM Rights flag

They’re also more likely to get raped, by guys who think that a submissive is a victim to be preyed upon. And in court, they will find that if they are submissive, they don’t have a right to complain about being raped or beaten up. There’s a British case where a woman was brutally raped, but her rapist’s defence established that she was into submission.

The judge said to the jury, “What was this young man to think, when he discovered a riding crop by her bed? When he saw those magazines?” The jury found the young rapist not guilty, and the judge commended their verdict. 

And so on. There are a lot of out gay men in Parliament where I live, on both sides of politics. But if I stood, and someone pointed out that I’ve been known to flog and cane women, and so on (see this blog for further details), the fact that it was for those women’s pleasure wouldn’t matter at all. I’d be de-selected as a candidate so fast it’d make my ears rotate. Widdershins. 

Adult couples outed for practicing consensual bdsm with each other, in private, have lost custody of their children as a consequence. 

So we are subject to discrimination.

And after Orlando, I thought, is it unthinkable that someone fired by by some mix of religious frenzy, hatred and (perhaps) self-loathing, could go and shoot up a bdsm club, mainly involving heterosexuals. And I had to say that it’s not unthinkable.

In the local bdsm club, I’ve seen submissive women fucked publicly by their masters (under the table, where the club staff can’t see them), men and women almost naked on the whipping frame, male and female doms leading their boy or girl on a leash, and so on. So, yes, I can imagine some holy nutcase with a gun deciding to cleanse the earth one pervert at a time, by blasting us all to hell.

Holy book (one of them) and Golden Shower

Holy book (one of them) and Golden Shower

We’ll politely ignore, for now, the fact that the holy books of the Judaic, Christian and Muslim monotheisms specifically endorse keeping man and women as slaves, and women in particular as sex slaves.

But, hey, they only endorse non-consensual, real slavery and rape. When there’s consent and mutual pleasure involved, that’s perverted.

Anyway, let’s ignore that.

 

But there are distinctions between the shit rained upon LGBTI people and bdsm people. For example, I remember when I was new to the internet, going to an IRC bdsm chat-room. An American woman took a fancy to my … typing, I guess, and enticed me into her own chatroom.  

A little later I started getting hate messages from Nazis, attempted hacking attacks, flooding and various other kinds of cyber-bullying. Then one of them looked at this chatroom I was in, and he apologised. The American woman had named her chatroom #bendover, and the Nazis had thought it was a gay room. When they realised that it was a bdsm room, and mostly involving women submissives and male doms, they had no problem with us. 

I can’t say I felt good about that. I feel better when Nazis hate me.

The rainbow and loving

The rainbow and loving

But it does illustrate that people into bdsm have various advantages over gays and lesbians, and so on, in relation to persecution. I can go out with a slavegirl, who is wearing my collar and a slavegirl anklet, and a flappy little tartan skirt with no knickers, so she knows she risks giving a flash of recently-caned arse of she isn’t careful, holding hands, and no-one will notice.

Except maybe someone else who’s into bdsm and can see and read the signs. We risk getting smiled at, in a conspiratorial way.

But if I were a gay man, holding hands with my loved one, outside the city and a few safe suburbs, would mean risking getting beaten up. The risk of getting killed just for that is small, but it’s not zero. A lot of people hate and fear all kinds of sexual differences. Gays, lesbians, transgender people and intersex people cop the worst of it; there’s no doubt of that.

So we, as fellow perverts in the world’s eyes, need to make sure we stand up for each other. That damn rainbow, we’re part of it whether we like it or not. 

There’s also the issue of cross-over. Gay men and lesbians make up a tiny proportion on the population as a whole, about two-three per cent. But they make up a bigger proportion of the bdsm community: about 8-10 per cent. So we need to be together, politically. 

The attack in Orlando, and other violent or repressive acts of homophobia are aimed at a minority sexuality that I’m not part of. But they’re still an attack on all sexual difference: I could have been in that club, or a similarly motivated killer could have come to mine. 

Gays and lesbians are fighting for equality, particularly in relation to marriage, and people involved in bdsm are fighting to remove ridiculous anti-bdsm censorship laws. Though boringly straight, I’ve written submissions to Parliamentary Select Committees in relation to gay decriminalisation, and marriage equality, and I’ve been on marches and so on.

The rainbow and living

The rainbow and living

I’ve written a book that (among other things) summarises the current state of research into the effects of porn, and of bdsm porn in particular, which tends to tear the ground out from under the people who want to censor and silence our media. I hope it’ll have some impact. Both kinds of activism are part of the same project, really.

Anyway, attacks on one of us, or one segment of us, are attacks on all of us. We need to share griefs, and share our determination and energy to fight back. 

Because the people who hate us, hate us all, more or less equally.

Orlando furioso

Some of the Orlando dead, from the Pulse Nightclub massacre of gay men and women and their friends

Some of the Orlando dead, from the Pulse Nightclub massacre of gay men and women and their friends

“Alas, good friend, what profit can you see

In hating such a hateless thing as me?

There is no sport in hate where all the rage

Is on one side. In vain would you assuage

Your frowns upon an unresisting smile,

In which not even contempt lurks, to beguile

Your heart, by some faint sympathy of hate.”

 

From “Sonnet”, Percy Bysshe Shelley, 

But that’s an ideal, of course. I’m not sure that I don’t hate that man, but he isn’t to be remembered. The beautiful, blazing lives blasted apart by hate because of who they love, are to be remembered and mourned. 

Visas and sex work in Russia

So, Russian bureaucracy is … frustrating. I don’t have my visa, and they took my passport, while they consider whether to issue me with my visa.

Russians and vodka.So if a Jerusalem Mortimer starts committing assassinations, etc, I’ll know it’s a Russian agent using his replica of my passport. Which will be a great consolation to me when I get arrested somewhere or put on a “no fly” list.

No wonder Russians turned to drink during the Stalin years, and haven’t weaned themselves off yet.

Mind you, Israel does that as well: taking the passports of tourists, or copying them, to be used by their agents when committing what Auden called “necessary murders”. I guess the US of A doesn’t need to: they have the resources to create their own fictitious passports.

My nationality is a country that doesn’t really have any enemies. So it’s useful to use our passports (or replicas) to commit state-sanctioned murders or espionage, because we are, by and large, innocent travellers who nobody minds, or pays much attention to. There are documented cases of this, some of which have led to open diplomatic rows: it happens. On the other hand, my country doesn’t really have any political, economic or military power, so there’s bugger all we can do about it. Beyond throwing the odd diplomatic tanty.  

Well, as Stanley Kubrick (oddly enough) said, “The great nations have always acted like gangsters, and the small nations like prostitutes.” He wasn’t completely right about the small nations though: we get screwed, but we don’t get paid. 

Sex workers protesting against unjust laws, police harassment and lack of protection in Russia

Sex workers protesting against unjust laws, police harassment and lack of legal protection in Russia. The guy in front is a sympathiser, enacting the role of pimp.

Speaking of Russian history, my first stop is Moscow. I understand my hotel is surrounded and besieged by sex workers, in a deployment based on the one the German army used in their encirclement of Leningrad just 76 years ago.

I wish them only well, because they have a rough time. Russia’s anti-prostitute laws are overseen by a Cabinet Minister who said sex workers are as bad as murderers. They risk theft, rape, violence and murder by police, customers and organised crime.

But I’m not a customer, for reasons I’ve set out elsewhere.

But if you’re interested in finding out more about the conditions sex workers face in Russia, here’s an interview with Irina Maslova, of the Silver Rose partnership of sex workers and supporters. She’s pretty damn impressive.

I’m going to be looking at architecture and art, mostly. I like those onion-shaped mosque things on the older buildings. And O Budgiegod, the art: a whole lot of stuff never seen in the West.

Mr Spank takes a short sharp trip to Lapland

laplaceThe dodgy headline for this post is from something the demented nurse said to Queenie, in Blackadder II.

It’s relevant because I’m off soon to the colder bits of Europe: Sweden, Denmark, Russia and so forth. While I’m in Sweden I’ll be going up to Lapland, in the Arctic Circle, and hanging out with reindeer, Laps, igloos, dog sleds and that kind of thing.

I don’t have any specific plans to take some poor freezing girl over my lap, in Lapland, but that’d be nominally neat and sweet.

So if I’m both charming and lucky I’ll tell you all about it. 

In five year’s time.

But today I’m off to the Russian Consulate, to get my visa for that leg of the journey. That’s virtually guaranteed to be a complete pain in the ass, because their bureaucracy doesn’t seem to have simplified, or sped up, since the demise of the late and unlamented Josef Stalin. Anyway, I’ll let you know how that goes.

Tomorrow.

images-11After that, I’ll write a bit more of Raylene’s story. It’s taken me twenty months, roughly, to write the first twenty hours of our acquaintance.

That makes me slower, as writers go, than Tristram Shandy, who took a year to write the story of the first day of his life. Bertie Russell pointed out that the more he wrote, the further he would get behind on his autobiographical project. Russell was making some mathematical point, but I’ve forgotten what it was.

Anyway, I was with Raylene for over a year, so at my current rate I wouldn’t finish telling her story until some time in the 25th century.

But my sweetheart will arrive when I get back from my travels, and this blog will take on a happy, satisfied tone. Maybe even smug, if I’m absurdly fortunate. I have teaching good behaviour in mind. Marking time till then, marking her from then.

Anyway, I’m heading into the Russian consulate. Wish me luck.

Humiliation of an ex-Nazi submissive 104: Three hearts, and two sisters’ asses, beat as one

This fine piece of erotica is soon to be published. So it has to come down from here.

I’ll add the URL where it can be bought shortly.

My brain on vasopressin. (A male arousal hormone. Noted for its brain-fuck capacity.)

My brain on vasopressin. (Vasopressin is a key male arousal hormone, noted for its capacity to reduce blood flow to the brain. My brain, anyway.)