Category Archives: Porn

Bedroom Eyes 31

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I entered Maires’s ass, easily. Maires was turned on and relaxed, and Stephanie was trying to show she was a good girl: told to lubricate Maires’s ass, she’d been diligent. I pressed forward, less abrupt than I sometimes am. I was in a gentle, loving mood.

Maires usually prefers me to be a Dom who makes things happen, and if some of them hurt, that’s more than OK. Steph also seemed to prefer me to be a hard man, not just in terms of my cock, but in my conduct towards her.

Being loving was self-indulgence, and too much would make them both unhappy.

So gentleness is not an unmixed blessing, but I felt loving towards them both. Slowly and reprehensibly gently I fucked Maires’s ass, my hands on hers as she grabbed a handful of the bottom sheet and some mattress protector, my cock hard but moving comfortably, I hoped comfortingly, in her rectum. 

Maires put her calves and ankles on mine as I buggered her, so I knew she was starting to feel the emotion behind this. I kissed her shoulderblade, and reached back and smacked the side of her ass, so that she could know all was well in the world. We moved together after that, Maires tightening her rectal muscles as I withdrew and relaxing as I pushed forward. I’d trained her to do that, long ago, with a lot of use of the riding crop and cane, but she knew what was right, now. We made love.

Stephanie watched us fucking. I’m sure she desired us both, and we made a stirring, hot, sight: a gentle, sensual buttfuck. But she was left out.

This was an odd thing. I wanted her to feel excluded and only a spectator to pleasure, because I believed she would discover that that sensation confirmed her deeply enslaved status, and therefore it’d be sexual for her.

That was my goal, but doing that sort of thing is always a risk. I desperately didn’t want to make her genuinely unhappy. I just wanted her to find an even deeper level of submission to fall into and occupy.

Ignoring Stephanie’s sexual wants was my way of giving her love. I don’t say that to make excuses: it was what I hoped I was doing, and that she’d take pleasure in. She’d showed herself to be more deeply submissive than Maires was, and I was trying to make her happy by putting her in a position that objectively seemed miserable. BDSM is about emotion, and it’s rarely simple.

Maires said, “Fuck, fuck me, fuck,” low and gutteral in her throat. In answer I smacked her again, harder, and sped up. Now we were fucking like a Master and slave, faster, and she began to squeal, while I made deeper, bear-growl noises.

Maires gasped, “Can I come, Master?”, and I shook my head, then remembered to say no.

Eventually, when I was ready to come in her, I said, “Yes, girl: now!” and she was wailing, beautiful and distraught, before I’d come.

Afterwards we were both out of breath, and Maires rolled onto her side, dislodging me. She was still puffing when she said, “I really want your cock, Master. Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

I said, “Jesus, Maires. I mean, yes, but I doubt if I’ll be up again for …”

Then I remembered Stephanie. I was being cruel to Stephanie, and I hoped she was enjoying that, even though I wasn’t touching her. I said, “Scallop.” That was her new slavename, given her no more than half an hour ago.

“Yes, Master?”

“Your Mistress wants to suck my cock. So clean my cock first, Scallop. Warm wet cloth. Fast!”

“Of course, Master!” She meant, I can do so much more than that: why don’t you tell me to? But she hurried to the bathroom, Maires and I both watching her cane-striped bottom as she moved.

Maires put her hand on Stephanie’s face when she returned, rubbing my cock with the toweling cloth in a way she hoped I might find worth my attention. When she’d finished the cleaning part of her task, though she showed no desire to stop, I knocked Maires’s hand away and said, “Back to your place, Scallop.”

She was disappointed, I knew, but she obeyed. “Yes, Master.” She stood alone, naked, legs parted, hands on head. Of course she was beautiful, and Maires and I were both in love with her. But Maires had begun to understand what I was doing. She ignored Stephanie, and lowered her head to take me in her mouth.

Two lovers made love. Stephanie, the third, stood apart, alone. Neglected, though she was the centre of my attention and perhaps Maires’s. I had to take it on faith that this was hot for her.

But her ordeal would have to last a while yet.

UK law removes anti-bdsm rules, recognises “full and free consent”

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There’s been a major break-through in the UK’s frankly insane and stupid censorship laws. 

Books, films and sites – such as this one – that depict bdsm in a consensual context can now freely discuss bdsm, and depict it in text or images.  

These marks were, technically, unlawful in the UK. Not inflicting or enjoying them, but showing them. Shades of “hide your shame, woman”

One of the oddities of the UK law was its bigotry. Acts like face-sitting or sexual spanking between adults are perfectly legal, but they couldn’t be depicted in erotic media. The purpose of law is supposed to be to protect people from harm. It’s not supposed to protect people who don’t like the idea of some sexual activities from thinking, “yuck”. 

For example, if Theresa May and Jacob Rees-Mog, say, were to film themselves having consensual sex and release the footage to the internet, I’d think that was yucky. I’d find it repellent if I saw it. However, I don’t need the law to fix my problem. That’s easily solved by not seeking out images that I don’t want in my brain. I’d avoid seeing the May-Rees-Mog tapes, which is easy to do. 

So, what are the changes?

Certain types of “violent” porn are now permitted so long as the sex acts are consensual (the wording is ‘full and freely exercised consent’,) do not cause serious harm to participants, are not ‘inextricably linked with other criminality’ and are not likely to be viewed by anyone under the age of 18.

Obscenity lawyer Myles Jackman, who has campaigned for these changes for a number of years, said that the change had wider implications for the law. He said: “It is a very impressive that they’ve introduced the idea of full and freely exercised consent in the law. Even for people with no interest in pornography this is very important for consent and bodily autonomy.”

Media superhero Pandora Blake, in her civvies

Activist and queer porn filmmaker Pandora Blake, who also campaigned to have the ban on the depiction of certain sex acts overturned, called the news a ‘welcome improvement’. 

“This is a happy day for queer, feminist and fetish porn.”

It means, incidentally, that one of my own books, that had been legally problematic – because I described a consensual caning that left welts that lasted a few days – can now be published in the UK. So, even though I don’t live in the UK, I am significantly better off as a result of these reforms. I’m not the only one.

Acts that were banned that can now be depicted include:

  • Spanking
  • BDSM
  • Female ejaculation
  • Urinating (also known as watersports)
  • Strangling
  • Face-sitting
  • Fisting
  • Humiliation

Thanks to…

Myles Jackman, legal superhero

Myles Jackman and Pandora Blake both worked hard, sometimes under huge stress, to get this change through. We owe them a huge debt of gratitude, and admiration beyond all measure, for sticking to this cause and ultimately winning it for all of us. 

I dare say non-kinky civil libertarians are pleased too. Because government control of public speech always – always – begins with speech about sex. But, unless the censorious forces are stopped in their tracks, it never ends with sexual content. 

And every country affects every other country, so this has world-wide significance. I’m living in Australia, also Antarctica, and this victory in the UK means that similar, chilling, legislation is less likely here. 

So thank you, with respect and admiration, to Pandora Blake and Myles Jackman!

Go back to the five and dime, Jimmy Deen, Jimmy Deen

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Stoya

This is Stoya. I picked this shot since it’s as close to a demure pic as I could find.

I‘ve never met Stoya. And, weirdly, I’ve never seen a porn with her in it. But I decided a long time ago that she’s cool, because she did a song and video with Amanda Palmer.

And I’ve read interviews, in which she comes across as smart and funny. She isn’t just intelligent and savvy, though; she’s remarkably beautiful.

Therefore (for the other reasons, not the beauty), if she says something about conditions in the porn industry, I’m inclined to think it’ll be the view of a sensible, smart person.

So when she said she was raped by James Deen, I didn’t think that on its own was legal proof, but that it was more likely than not to be true. 

I haven’t met James Deen, either. He’s a male porn star, maybe the only male porn worker to be a star in his own right, right now. I haven’t seen any of his videos either. I mean, I do watch porn, but I don’t have time to keep up with all of it. 

But I knew submissive women who thought James Deen was supremely good news. He was much more fanciable than the tattooed, muscle-bound caricature that the porn industry thinks is an attractive man. Deen looked like a regular guy, someone a woman might meet and decide to take home and fuck. So, over time, his videos became starring vehicles for him. The naked women got equal or second billing to a man, which is incredibly rare in porn. 

James Deen is almost always clothed in his porn and publicity shots.

James Deen is almost always clothed in his porn and publicity shots.

In the bdsm-flavoured porns he did, I’m told the vibe was both rough but also playful. He’d be savage, but politely so, and he’d manage to communicate the idea that he didn’t hate the woman performer, or think she was bad. They were just playing a sexy game. 

So a lot of people were reluctant to write him off when Stoya complained. He’d managed to make himself an acceptable face of porn. And it’s a “he said/she said” scenario. What can you do? 

Well, you can follow the balance of the evidence. When Stoya said he’d raped her, and not stopped when she used a safe word, I thought that was probably true. Short of legal-standard proof, of course, but enough to decide that he’s probably not a nice guy, and not what he seemed to be.

But then the balance tipped dramatically in Stoya’s favour: there are now eight other women with similar stories about Deen. So it’s not “she said/he said” any more. That’s nine women with similar stories: of course it’s true. That is, of course Deen rapes women, and he can’t be trusted to respect a safe word. 

Which takes any potential pleasure out of watching any of his old videos. I’m not going to look at the bloody things, I’m afraid. 

His career is effectively over, I hope. The one thing is that I’m pleased about is that it seems the porn industry didn’t fuck around on this, like other media have with their rapist creeps (e.g. the BBC and Jimmy Saville; American media and Bill Cosby, and so on). 

Anyway, sometimes you just have to let someone go. He may have looked like an “acceptable face of porn”, but it turns out he wasn’t. Now’s the time to drop James Deen. 

And Stoya had things to lose by reporting her experience publicly. That took courage. But assaulting women, using the ambiguities of the setting and your own fame, doesn’t take courage: it’s bastardy. What else may happen depends on the women concerned, but it’s to be hoped his career stays over. .

Falling off horses, and gate-keeping at bdsm meetings

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Falling off horses

Even bad holidays are holidays, and holidays end. So I stood on the road with my suitcase waiting for the country bus that would, eventually, take to the airport that would take me home. My uncle and aunt waited with me, not overwhelmed with grief that I was going. Samantha was there too, not grieving either, but giving me the full force of her disdain. She was good at disdain. She wished me a good trip, going home.

So I was sadder, though not much wiser. Still, I had two new pieces of knowledge.

The first was that girls didn’t pick guys for their niceness or their intelligence or whatever. It was something subtler, that Greg had and I didn’t. He was a shit, and he was sexy. I could whine about that, or I could try to work out ways of being sexy myself, while still being me.

“Thou wilt never come for pity;

Thou mayest come for pleasure.”

If I really liked girls, and it was clear that I did, then I’d have to be someone girls enjoyed hanging around with. I had no idea how to go about that, but at least the project was clear.

Ruth is stranger than Richard.

Ruth is stranger than Richard.

The other thing I learnt was even more depressing, because there seemed to be nothing much I could do about it. It was that there was no reason to think that even I met a a submissive girl, or woman, and we got on well, she’d want the same things as me.

Bdsm is a big tent, and it includes all sorts of tastes, desires and practices. They’re not always going to be compatible.

At the time that seemed like bad news.

Of course, as you know, you can almost always find common ground with a lover, and you can pervert them in your direction, and they can teach you a few of their own favourite things. I just didn’t know that yet. 

Bdsm meetings

Girl in fishnets

Girl in fishnets

So – and now I’m going back to something I said in those posts about running bdsm meetings, especially this one – the fact that bdsm is a big tent  also means that it’s hard to draw lines about who is and who isn’t into bdsm. And that woman Ruby, who came to my bdsm meet’n’greet wearing a fishing net, and who got dissed for only being interested in getting spanked and fucked, is definitely inside the tent and under the umbrella. 

If anyone wants to identify with us, it seems to me that (except for people who advocate non-consensual practices) we don’t need gatekeepers to keep them out.