If you have a cock and a tape measure, I need a little favor from you.

No, I do not want to know the size of your cock. What I want to know is: what the measurement from your mouth to the base of your groin? And here’s the important part – I need the measurement of it taken while you are lying down.

That’s an odd request, isn’t it? Let me explain… You see, I am having a charming piece of kink equipment made for me by some superb local craftspeople. This is a vacuum bed. (Click through for a larger image and an explanation of how it works.)






I’ve been thinking of getting one for years, but I’ve always been put off by the fact that the person inside, while rendered truly immobile in a fashion that does induce an intense psychological response, would not sufficiently accessible to me.

However, lately I have seen examples of vacuum beds with, shall we say, greater access. So I asked Seattle latex designer Tonya Winter if she could create something like that for me. She’s hard at work on it, and her design incorporates a gusset with a flap of latex at the crotch, a few inches around, that could be either opened, to provide access, or smoothed shut and secured in some fashion.

So essentially she is creating an envelope of latex for me, and it will have two holes in it. One to breathe through, and one for access to those nicely sensitive places. So the question becomes: where does one place those holes relative to each other? Latex does stretch, but one has to have some idea of the average distance from mouth to groin.

Naturally I have some boys on hand, as it were, that I can measure. But I’d like a greater sample. Who knows, if that number turns out to vary quite widely, I may end up having more than one envelope made. But I wish to start with the measurement that’s more or less in the middle, statistically. And I’m sure that my lovely readers would enjoy knowing that they had contributed to this design.

So if you'd like that as much as I think you would: lie down – because that’s the position people will be in when they are in the bed – and measure from your mouth to where your cock joins your body. Send that to me, and just for good measure, tell me your height and approximate weight. I’ll be ever so grateful to each and every one of you.

It's time for... a fresh podcast!

(The page formatting continues to show the headline all wonky. I don't know why, but ignore it. Click on the little icon, and it'll play just fine.)

Now, I must warn you, I think this one gets to a new high in completely non-serious silly riffing. So just disregard all that talk about Monk parking a Buick in someone's ass.

Also, there's a whole bunch of insane nonsense about doing an all-musical-version of the podcast. Do not try to make any rational sense out of that. And do not follow Monk's instructions about emailing me, imploring me to do an all-musical-version of a podcast. Because I will not.

Then we get to letters. A reader asks us about making kink toys out of everyday thing – so we talk about pervertables, always a fun topic. And Monk offers us all the reasons why rope is so wonderful.

Then we read a letter from a kinky reader asking us why BDSM people don’t like to kiss. (We kid the guy a bit, but then, we do that to everyone.)

Meanwhile, I’m off to get my hair done, and then get massaged and generally pampered. A little pre-Christmas treat. Bye!

I was going to write something clever, but the Stranger column ate my brain. So I'm not.

However, I got a sweet email asking me about buying one's first flogger, and that's a question I can answer even with no brain. Nervous beginners, what you want is a deerskin flogger, with tails that are not too long, no more than sixteen inches.

Deerskin is very light and soft, and I swear to you, you are not going to really hurt someone with a deerskin flogger. (Unless you poke them in the eye with the handle or something, so don't do that.)

I recommend this one. The Bare Leatherworks guys make lovely floggers. I’ve bought a number of them over the years. I find them very well made, pleasing to use, and they have held up very well to frequent – and often not gentle – action.

One step up in intensity from deerskin would probably be this one, the cowhide flogger. Still pretty soft and pleasantly thumpy, though.

Anything with rubber tails is going to sting and be more intense, and be more likely to leave marks, so I generally don't recommend rubber floggers for a beginner.

Happy thwacking!

I don’t blog about specific kinky products very much, just because every time I do, I get a flood of email from people wanting me to "review" and promote their kinky product, whatever it is.

There’s nothing wrong with marketing. But if I did a plug for everyone who asked me, there would be nothing but ad copy here, and that’s not what I want.

However, I am going to mention these, because I’ve been playing with one lately: Bodyhose. Now I know, this looks like an inexpensive version of the Wolford Fatal dress. I have that dress is three colors and I love it, but this is not a fashion post, it’s a bondage post. Because these tubes work very nicely for an encasement-bondage scene.

There’s something fun about covering up all of someone’s skin. I’ve tried saran-wrap bondage, duct tape, vet-wrap, spandex body bags, all the usual things. But these tubes are cool for several reasons.

They are easy to carry, and they are easy to put on someone – certainly way faster and easier than wrapping a person all in duct tape, let me tell you. (Not that it wasn't fun.)

And it’s easy to adjust the level of constraint. For someone new to bondage, or nervous about it, that’s a bonus. Basically, the more you stretch the tube out, the less pressure you put on the skin. Scrunching it up, or folding it in half, makes more pressure on the body. On the other hand, stretching the tube out covers more of the person – but thinly. You can see them, they can see out even if it’s over their face, they can breathe, all those things. But assuming you’ve restricted them in some way underneath it, they can’t get out. Big fun.

I will note that I have only put these on men. (I have seen a girl about my own size wearing one of these as a dress, and she looked as cute as could be.) But they are all one size. So a five-foot-five, 120-pound person is going to be less restricted in one of them than a six-foot-two, 200-pound person. Not that it couldn’t work, it’s just going to be a different experience.

If you have the tube stretched over them from head to foot, clearly your own access to them will be somewhat limited - although impact, clamps, and lots of other mean things work just fine through nylon. But if you want direct access to certain bits, then I advise getting two – one above, and one below, and the interesting parts exposed in the middle.

Have fun!

Another podcast! Now with extra perviness!

In this episode, Monk and I do letters from readers, and talk about smaller-top/bigger-bottom strategies. Then we branch off into discussing our favorite BDSM implements: canes, staplers and boot-mounted dildo harnesses. As a finish, we argue about whether tits trump all other weapons. Lots of dirty words and graphic descriptions on this one!

Fun quote:
Monk: "You had a glass of champagne in one hand, a stun gun in the other, and a line of boys with their pants pulled down."
Mistress Matisse: "Yeah. That was the best night of my life."

Enjoy!

Occasionally I am reminded that some newer kinky people don't know stuff about BDSM culture that I take for granted. Like the Hanky Code.

I read a lot of online forums about BDSM, and I regularly see someone - usually a heterosexual person - talking about how they wish there was some subtle but clear way that BDSM people could signal to each other in public: "Hey, I'm kinky." Hmmm, what about a lapel pin? Or maybe - a necklace? Lots of options are suggested, and then rejected for various reasons.

And I have to smile, because this is a perfect example of reinventing the wheel. As with many sexual things, the gay men got there way ahead of the rest of us and figured all this out. Thus - the hanky code: a color-coded bandanna tucked in the back pocket of a pair of jeans that indicates sexual preferences.

To indicate that someone is wearing a hanky, we speak of them "flagging" and also of "flagging left" or "flagging right." A hanky (or flag) worn in the left back pocket - or in any way on the left half of someone's body - means they are a top. A hanky on the right means they are a bottom.

Sometimes people tie the hankies around their arm, or thread them through the epaulets of a motorcycle jacket. Same principle applies.

You can flag more than one color at a time. However, if you have, say, eleven different hankies hanging off your body, people may think that you're a bit... indiscriminate.

Now, over time, the range of colors listed in various hanky codes has grown to a truly absurd degree. And there are some differences between the gay men's lists and the lists used (although not very much) by lesbians. One sometimes sees some variations regionally, too, although I think the internet has erased a lot of the old East Coast/West Coast differences.

In my opinion, the important ones are: black and gray, which always mean heavy SM and bondage, respectively.

Red is also easy to identify, although for men it means fist-fucking and for women it sometimes means bloodsports, so you're going to want to be clear about that before you go home with someone.

Yellow is a good one. Three guesses what that color is for.

And then there's about a hundred other colors. But if you can tell the difference between "Air Force blue" and robin's egg blue" - especially in a dark bar - well, you've got better color sense than I do. You should definitely ask.

I don't know if there ever was really a time and place where simply wearing a hanky meant someone could just walk up to you and start doing whatever. But that's definitely not what you should do, or expect, now.

It is, however, a perfectly reasonable way to start a conversation with someone at a party - or after exchanging a few significant glances with them in the produce department of the grocery store, for that matter. "Nice hanky. Is that apricot, or orange?"

So in the wake of yesterday's post someone - who shall remain nameless - sent me a teasing email about how, oh, did I need a power tool to deliver a serious fucking?

And the answer is no. I don't.



Click me, baby, and I'll get bigger. Much, much bigger. And I'll stay that way as long as I want. Someone is going to get reminded of that really soon.

A number of alert readers sent me links to some version of this story. Yowch!

I posted a little over a year ago about how I do indeed have a reciprocating saw with a dildo on it - a "Fuckzall," as they are called. (I think Monk has it, actually. I loaned it to him to use on some lucky girl, who did not wind up in the hospital.)



That poor woman! I'm glad she's recovering, but sweet Jesus, people: take the blade off! That's a good place to start, right there!

Then there's a special attachment you can buy to put the dildo on. I would not advise trying to DIY on this one, kids. Seriously.

Good lord. Some people should really just stick to deerskin mini-floggers.

So I'm mostly all about shopping for stuff for the house right now, since the Great Remodel of '09 is soon to begin. Thus, most of my recent shopping bookmarks look like this, or this, or this.

But I am thinking about kinky stuff too. I've long wanted one of these, for example, and have had trouble finding one that was sized for a MAN and not a five-foot-five, hundred-and-twenty pound woman. I'd need to go find a looooong hose extension for a vacuum, though, because I don't want the dang thing roaring away next to me while I play. I imagine I'll be in Home Depot-esque places a lot the next few weeks/months, that seems like an opportunity.

This, however... I don't know, part of me thinks it's very ingenious and cleverly made. But it's also sort of disturbing, somehow. I suppose that really, it is simply the equivalent of a strap-on dildo, and god knows I'm a big fan of those.

But there's just something a little squick-making about these images. I think I'd respond to it better if they'd pictured it ON someone. Or even a dummy. As it is, there's just something very Silence of The Lambs about the photos. Do men feel that way when they look at hyper-realistic dildos? I had not thought so, but...

Nonetheless, I'm sure it will sell like crazy. Not my fetish, but just fine if you're into it.

Letter From a Reader

(Greetings and nice compliments...) I have a question for you about toy care. I recently got my dream paddle. It's a leather paddle (ping-pong paddle shape, but larger) with sharp spikes in a circle pattern with two spikes at the bottom. Because of the amazing spikes its nearly impossible to have a satisfying spank from it without my skin being punctured and blood becoming involved. I really enjoy it, but am concerned when it comes to safety. I know you have spanked people with many different types of objects so I was curious how you clean the toys if blood is involved. Because of the blood should the paddle be a me-only toy (i.e. I can sterilize it)? Should my partner use gloves while using the paddle on me?

Now, I always get uneasy answering questions like this because I'm not a medical person. My answer would have been, "There's no way to truly sterilize a toy like this. So no, don't use it on anyone else." But I decided to consult a couple of fellows I know who are medically-trained kinksters. Here's what they said.

***

Dr. Moreau: I haven't actually done a complete search of the medical literature to ascertain whether any randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled, multi-center studies or meta-analyses have been done to evaluate the spiked leather paddle as potential vector of infectious disease, but off hand, I'd say, "yes, it's a one-person toy."

I'd say that gloves or not is a matter of the personal boundaries of those involved. Body fluid contact is probably inevitable to some degree for the hand holding the paddle. If gloveless body fluid contact is not part of this relationship, then don't go gloveless.

Dr. Strangelove: I'm sure this isn't a surprise, but the paddle in question can't be truly sterilized, at least not with the equipment your writer has access to. While the metal can be cleaned, a porous leather surface would be considered to be potentially infectious even after being wiped down with alcohol...

Regarding gloves...I would treat this like any other play that might involve fluid contact. If your partner would put a needle in you without gloves, then go ahead and let him/her spank you without gloves. If on the other hand you practice barrier use in all your other play habits, it might be wise to extend them to this toy.

***

So there you go. An opinion, and then a second opinion, can't do better than that.

Remarks On Different Topics

READ: I meant to post a link to this writer, Savannah Lee, earlier in the week, and I forgot, because I am thinking about too many things at once. She wrote some good stuff about the “Marry Him” article, and she’s a good writer on any subject, so check her out.

***

KINK: A pal – who is not nearly as sweet and innocent as she looks – wrote me and asked me for help assembling her own Pink Box For Pink Bits. (And no, this has nothing to do with breast cancer.) I told her that in addition to the items mentioned previously, there was a new one: electric toothbrushes. A wonderfully evil man brought some over for Jae and I to play with recently, and when I pressed it on Jae's clit, she just about came off the table. Delightful. I liked alternating the bristle side with the smooth side, and the tip, and so forth. Great fun. 4 out of 5 dominatrixes say you should brush after every orgasm!

***

SHOPPING: If you’re one of my good boys, and you’re going to be in one of the following cities soon, you should talk to me: Ala Moana, HI. Bal Harbour, FL. Beverly Hills, CA. Chicago, IL. Costa Mesa, CA. Las Vegas, NV. New York, NY. Palm Beach, FL. Waikiki, HI.

Why those cities? Because those are the cities that have Chanel Boutiques, and I have decided that I really need one of the Chanel Ultra rings. (Yes, I could call them and order it by phone, but it’s hard to pay cash over the phone. I like cash.)

Speaking of shopping, I really want these shoes. In gold, not pink. Are they not gorgeous? I think gold is my new black.

***

EVENTS: Note to sexy women in the greater Seattle area: The Bang For The Buck party is this Friday night. Miss K wants to go, so we're going to go together. (Although I am not looking, I am just socializing. But if you’re a butch looking for a femme top, I’ll introduce you to Miss K.) It should be a rockin’ party, so I’ll see you there…

So, I was the the Bondage Is The Point party Sunday night at the Wet Spot, and while in conversation with a groups of pals, I remarked, just in passing, that I owned a fuckzall.

"A what?"

"A fuckzall. A reciprocating, variable speed power saw - often referred to as a sawzall - but instead of a blade, there's a dildo on it. You see them a lot on the bondage-porn sites, they're fun."

Much was the amusement and incredulity. (What, doesn't everyone have one?) So I promised to upload a photo.

Lo and behold...


Bigger image, if you're a size queen.

It's fun, but boy, it's a teeth-rattler. For both people! And did I feel a bit like Bruce Campbell when I fired that bad boy up for the first time. "This is my boom-stick!" Yeah, that's about right.

There's only thing you have to know about the fuckzall: back spatter. Even at the slower speed, the action of this thing is such that the operator is going to get sprayed with - well, with whatever is wet. Lube, bodily fluids, whatever. So you need to be okay with that. Or you need to build a nicely kinky scene around a top in a haz-mat suit.

Because You Asked

Answers to several questions in the comment box lately…

Pussies in bondage...The link to the cat-suspension post, complete with photos of kitty-shibari. Well, just one, actually. And one picture of a fussy and demanding feline dominatrix, who has successfully brought not only me, but other famous dominants to her furry heel.

Advice on buying a strap-on harness… Well, I have several. The one I use most often is the one in the picture below, a plain black leather model with a strap around the waist and two separate straps for around the legs. I don’t like the ones with just one strap between the legs, but that’s just me. Some people claim you get better pivoting that way, but I prefer the higher level of control you get with the two-strap models.

It’s a toss up between d-rings and buckles. Buckles are easier to adjust one-handed, no mean consideration when you have lube all over the other hand. But with d-rings you get more precise adjustments and the shafts don’t jab you in the side if you’re rolling around acrobatically with it on. The one I use most has d-rings.

If you’re having any fun with it, it’s gonna get really messy. I have put mine through the washing machine many times. Yes, a leather harness, through the wash, really. This is not a Hermes Birkin bag, it’s fine. Or I just put it in the sink with hot water and scrub it with a big ole scrub brush and soap.

The best strap-on, by far, that I ever had was this latex-panty-thing that had the dildo built into it. I mean, it was all one piece. So you couldn’t change sizes, but man, I could fuck with that thing as if I’d grown it, the control was excellent. I’ve never seen one like it since then. It was years ago that I had it, and I’ve seen a few things since then that were sorta similar, but nothing that was nearly as well-made and solid as that one. Unfortunately my ex-girlfriend stole it when we broke up. I think she ran over it with her car and then chopped it in half. She was really hot and rather crazy – why do those two things so often go together?

So that’s what I think about strap-on harnesses.

What squicks me? Not much, but there are a few things…. I’m turned off by adult baby play, also called infantilism. I’m not real big on serious age-play in general. I mean, a fun little role-playing with say, naughty teenage boy/girl, okay, that’s fine. Deep headspace games, with people way into the role of being small children…hey, if that’s your kink, that’s fine for you, but it’s not for me. I’ve been around people doing it at conferences and parties and such, and it just unsettles me a bit.

Animal role play, now, doesn’t bother me at all, although it doesn’t especially schwing me, either. But I’m fine with giving someone a scratch behind the ears if they are roaming about on all fours, woofing or meowing or whatever. And sometimes people are just so obviously enjoying themselves in their animal role that it makes me smile.

Other than that? Well, the idea of scat play makes me wrinkle my nose. It’s not emotionally a problem, but just…esthetically. I like piss-play, though, so go figure.

I can’t think of much else.

Tomorrow – Why I don’t have non-kinky friends…

Furniture Musings

Every Mistress needs nice furniture, and I'm very fond of the stuff I have. Just three really well-made basic pieces - the bondage chair, the bend-over bench, and this, my table. I don't like my dungeon to feel crowded, and I have found that most of the time, one doesn't really use the super-specialized pieces all that much. Stocks, for example. They look nice in porn pictures, but in real life, many people have a hard time staying bent over at the waist with no torso support. And I don't like any bondage position that relies on a fragile area like the throat as a lock-down point.

So I stay with what works for me. It makes me sad that the brilliant twisted man who built all my furniture has since hung up his carpentry hammer. It’s been about seven years since I commissioned my bondage table from Mr. Wood, and I love the piece, but it’s starting to show its age a bit.

I had it re-upholstered about a year ago and that helped. But eventually I’m going to need a new one, and I cannot imagine where I’m going to get one. I know exactly one kinky carpenter and she’s extremely busy.

And plus I’ll have to think about design. This one, as you see, has two inserts that come out. I wanted to be able to lay someone down on their stomach and still get access to the fun parts. Sometimes I lie on the floor and do CBT on boys from that angle. It’s more scary for them when not only can they not see what’s coming, they can’t even see me. Once I draped the bottom with fabric and had Jae hiding underneath there like an evil little sprite under a bridge. Wasn’t that boy startled when he saw me standing several feet away and felt…someone/something… touching his bits. It was delightful.

But perhaps something different for the next piece. I’ll often be playing and think, “Gee, I wish I could do X right now.” And I try to make notes about what I find myself wanting to do and design accordingly.

However, my next piece of bondage furniture will probably be a new addition: a stand-up frame. I have points in the ceiling to tie people's hands up to, but I want something against a wall. Not a St Andrews cross, I don’t care for those. A lattice-work frame, one heavy enough to take a real beating. If you’ll pardon the expression…

I had a mostly-lovely weekend. I spent a lot of Friday with Monk, and then Saturday night I went to a private party at a pal's house. Being a party-thrower myself, I do appreciate it when other people put out the time and energy to have their own, so I enjoyed myself.

It was also an an opportunity to wear a fabulous new dress - a white Herve Leger "bandage" dress. This dress has convinced me that Herve Leger has both talent and good business sense. With some designers, you try one of their outfits and think, "This dress is uncomfortable, it makes my figure looks stumpy, and the color gives me the complexion of a three-day-old corpse. Why would I spend money on this?"

Mr. Leger, however, knows how to make a woman's figure look good. Really good. And the stretchy knit is comfortable to wear, how amazing. My female friends told me how nice my dress looked, and my male friends told me how nice my ass looked, so that all worked out just like it should have.

I didn't really play at this party, being in a fairly mellow mood, but I watched some lovely scenes. Candy was also there, making like a trapeze artist on a bar hung from the ceiling. (Photos may follow, if I get permission to post them.) Jae showed up and brought me a little gift - she's always so thoughtful when she sees things she thinks I'd like.

Aren't they cute? And I'm glad no little mice will die in them. They'll serve a much happier purpose in my dungeon.

A handsome man was generous enough to try one of them on his nipple for me, and we agreed that the level of static pressure wasn't too bad. The smack when the spring was released, however, was noticeable. They'd work nicely on cocks or pussies, too. Jae refused to have one tried on her tongue, however.

So Saturday was lovely. Sunday, however, brought...some stressful news. But that's all I can say at the moment because it's actually not my news. More on that as information becomes public.

Edit: The information is now public. Monk had an accident on his motorcycle yesterday.

The new column...Letter from a reader answered.

Also: I got quoted in Esquire magazine, which is charming. (Of course, now I wish I'd said something much more witty and insightful, but that's what I said, so....) My thanks to the writer, Litsa Dremousis, for including me!

Pink Box
God, where is my pink box? I thought. I want to find it. I need it.
Monk came into the bedroom and looked at me curiously. “What are you looking for down there?”
“My pink box,” I replied. “I put that pretty glass dildo in it, and I now I want it, and I can’t find it.”
“Well, that sounds like a problem.”
“It is. Will you help me find it?”
“Sure, darlin’…”

Oh, wait. Are thinking I mean something dirty? Well, as it happens, you’re right. But probably not the way you think.

This is what I was looking for: my pink box! (It was under the bed.)

I keep a lot of my toys at my dungeon space, but there’s a certain amount of my stuff kicking around the house where I live, too. Some of it lives in this pink box. I often refer to it as the pink box for pink bits because a lot of what’s in it is small stuff I use for genital torment.

Want to see? I'll give you the tour.

The top layer: Needles. (Not just for genitals, but yes, I do put ‘em there sometimes.) Lots of chopsticks and the corresponding elastic bands, held together by a spring clamp that can serve many functions. I rarely get to actually put that puppy on someone, but often just brandishing it will instill an appropriate level of fear in a bratty bottom.

A cock ring. It's the male equivalent of a push-up bra. Holds everything nicely together and out there.

A toothbrush. Toothbrushes made great abrasion-play toys. You may think, oh, a toothbrush, that doesn’t hurt. Hah. Take that thing and start scrubbing your clit, or the corona of your cock. Keep going. No, don’t stop. Oh, starting to get uncomfortable now, are we, smarty-pants? Too bad. We’re not stopping. Scrub, scrub, scrub. You know, you’d pay big money to get this done to you at a fancy spa, you should be thankful to me. Look how red and sensitive you’re getting! Have I convinced you to fear the toothbrush? Good.

What else do we have? Hall’s Mentholated cough drops. I put one of those in Jae’s pussy once and it was like I put ants in her pants. Big fun. Altoids also work well. (Yes, yes, I know you could get a yeast infection. Get some cream and use it afterwards, if you’re that worried about it, but you’re actually not going to die from a yeast infection.)

That black thing is called a bite blocker and I stole two of them from a dentist’s office. It holds one’s mouth open, and sometimes that’s a terribly intimate way to scare someone.

On the second level: A wartenberg wheel, bamboo skewers - so nice and pointy and disposable - various sizes and shapes of clothespins, a small tube of toothpaste - which tingles nicely on your bits, try it – and those Listerine breath patches, which also tingle really nicely. If you like intense tingles.

And some eighteen gauge needles, I have no idea why those are there, I don’t think anyone of my acquaintance is crazy enough to let me punch railroad spikes through their bits. But if I’m wrong, do let me know.

But where the heck is my glass dildo? Hmmn, maybe I should look in this drawer...

Bingo. There it is. The one with the big knobby end - I saw it when I was doing the podcast for the Blowfish people down in SF and had to have it!

Oh, and there’s that pretty metal butt-plug Monk bought me, and some rope, and another vibrator. (That purple one – it’s lavender-scented. I mean, really, really lavender-scented. Why the hell would someone make a sex-toy that smells like bath salts?) And that blue thing is some skin-care gizmo that’s supposed to suck blackheads out of your pores. It does suck, all right. I don't know what it does for blackheads. But did you know it’s possible to give someone little tiny round hickeys on their labia?