Just to show ya'll that I have not abandoned you: a repost of a scene Jae and I reminisced about the other day - spanking the Bicycle Man. The photos are not for the faint of heart.

***

Smack

Now, not everybody I see is into heavy intense sensation. But I do have a handful of boys who like it as heavy as I can dish it out.

I’ve written about this kind of scene before, and that may have been what prompted a gentlemen I’ll call the Bicycle Man to come see me. Like the guy in the column, Bicycle Man also likes impact on the ass, just as hard as I can do it. (I can actually get him to the "enough" point, though.)

There are so many different pleasures in BDSM - I could never settle for just one. But there is something viscerally satisfying about hitting something as hard as you can, and since I’m a sadist, I particularly like it when that something is a nicely responsive human body.

And since I’m a generous person, I decided that Jae should meet Bicycle Man, too. I'm strictly a gym queen when it comes to athletics, but Jae played softball in high school and college. Golf, too. She’s got a serious swing.

The three of us had a great time. Wanna see? (The usual disclaimers apply…)

Me lining up the stroke.

She swings and…

The bounce-back.

I do sort of bat like a girl, though, don't I? Jae has great follow-through.

We did catch one stroke just at the moment of impact.

But Jae and I are sure we could capture still more spanking art, so the Bicycle Man will just have to come see us again sometime…

(Original Post: Tuesday, April 17, 2007)

The latest Stranger column, about unproductive behaviors that certain types of male/female couples fall into, when seeking a woman to join them. How Not To Be A Dunning-Kruger Couple.

I have a new Stranger column up, and I’m expecting some blowback from it, either on the Stranger page or elsewhere on the web, because I am pushing a hot button: I am suggesting that the BDSM instructors should not teach – or even demonstrate – high risk practices in short, beginner-accessible classes. So you should read that column first, because the rest of this post discusses it.

This column sprung from attending a breathplay class taught by Lee Harrington here in Seattle recently, part of which made me uneasy. Let me emphasize here that Lee showed us a lot of fun, no/low risk ways to limit or change the way someone breathes. Lee is a very engaging speaker/performer, and has a lot of good things to say about the psychology and theatre of breathplay. It was only part of the class troubled me, and that was the part with demonstrations of strangling, and the part where Lee put a plastic bag over his head and taped it around his neck.

The good part of this was how well Lee Harrington – with whom I’ve been acquainted for some years – took my criticism. He listened to my opinion thoughtfully and without defensiveness, and we had a really good dialogue about it privately. For now, he’s not teaching the class as a stand-alone offering. Handling criticism well takes grace and maturity, and Lee displayed an impressive level of both. I respect that a lot.

Breathplay is a touchy issue for BDSM people. Even the mere word breathplay is tricky. It’s a bit like the word “bondage” – it covers a very broad range of activity. Let me reiterate that I have no problem with the milder end of breathplay, either doing it or teaching it.

However, as with every kind of BDSM, there is a scale of intensity and risk in breathplay. And there are specific practices at the high end of the overall activity where the risk of harm is so high and so uncontrollable that I don’t think they should be taught to a general audience. Strangling people unconscious, or suffocating them unconscious with a plastic bag or some similar thing like plastic wrap, is very high risk. I think BDSM educators should be actively discouraging those behaviors.

And I don’t think it’s repressive, or a waste of time to do that. This is not about shaming people for their turn-ons, or preaching a just-say-no sermon. It’s no different than bondage instructors teaching people not to suspend people by just their wrists. Yes, it looks cool, you see it in the movies, and there are porn pictures of it online, but in real life, that’s likely to damage someone’s hands in a severe and/or permanent way, so he instructs people not to do that. There are other ways to tie people up that are hot and sexy and far less likely to result in physical damage.

In the same way, there are ways to play with breathing that are far less likely to result in someone being harmed. That’s what we should be teaching people to do. I have no illusions that everyone will stop doing intense strangling and suffocation. But I believe that the BDSM community can and should influence some people towards safer types of play.

For some people, the idea that they are deliberately and purposefully risking death is part of the thrill of strangling and suffocation. They feel it’s the ultimate expression of trust, although I don’t quite understand how it expresses trust when a lot of risk is beyond the conscious control of the top. Doing a scene like that - one where, if things go wrong, someone dies on the spot - is called edgeplay, and I admit openly it’s not my kink. But obviously if you like playing with the possibility of death, then safer breathplay will not appeal to you.

Fans of strangling like to invoke martial-arts masters as examples of how choke-holds can be done safely. To them I say: if you and your partner are, in fact, both martial-arts masters who have been trained in this, then yes, you can assess your risk differently. (I say both because being schooled in how to respond to a choke-hold in a way that minimizes damage is part of why that works as well as it does.) And doing even a properly-executed chokehold while alone with a sexual partner is still a different situation than doing it in a ring surround by judges and officials, and with emergency medical help standing by. But I acknowledge that some people have superior training.

However, the vast majority of people in the world - including me - are actually not trained martial-arts masters. For us, using martial-arts masters as an example for what’s safe in breathplay is a bit like using professional racecar drivers as an example of what’s safe to do while driving I-5.

So to my mind, if you want to be educated in how to apply chokeholds, then go to martial-arts school. It will take longer than two hours, for sure, and it will involve more effort than you just showing up and sitting on a folding chair. (And way more than - sweet Jesus - reading about it and watching porn of it online.)

But guess what? Gaining true mastery of any BDSM technique takes work. If you want to do high-risk play, but you care so little for your partner’s safety that you’re not willing to spend time, effort and money to learn as much as you possibly can about how to do it, then I don’t have much respect for you as a player.

I have some other thoughts about the culture of breathplay as a part of the BDSM community – there are a few curious anomalies about it that I want to discuss with some people I know and respect who do breathplay. And I’m actually pondering a follow-up column to this one, if I can get a Seattle-area martial-arts instructor to answer some interview questions for me about learning and using chokeholds. So look for more questions and analysis about this in days to come…

EDITED: I think free-diving school would be the best way to learn about suffocation. Obviously it's slightly different being in the water versus having a bag over your head, but it's my opinion that the science of it would be similar enough to make that practice slightly less high-risk.

BDSM techniques, in today’s new podcast: Monk and I answer a reader letter about putting Altoid mints and Listerine Breath Strips in female pink parts. Naturally, I talk some about boy bits as well. Plus, why you’ll want some milk on hand for this type of play. About nine minutes, not work safe!

(A note about iTunes: some helpful folks have told me that iTunes is pulling from the from old hosting URL, and that's why my podcasts no longer show up there. That is indeed the case. What I haven't had time to puzzle out is how I change that. This is the only thing I can find about it on iTunes, and these instructions don't make any sense to me. Unless some brilliant person can tell me what I'm missing, I'm thinking I'll just have to re-submit the podcast as though it were new. Annoying.)

Today I'm running an article that was originally published in online magazine Filthy Gorgeous Things. It's on how I feel about the space in which I play.

***

They say you remember lessons best when you’re in the place where you learned them. I believe that, because when I walk into my dungeon, I always remember the lessons I’ve learned about who I am, and what I can do.

I said “dungeon” – but actually, I rarely use that word, because it isn’t one I much care for. I’m a dominatrix, a consensual BDSM player, not a priest in the Spanish Inquisition. The rooms where I play are not cold, hard, impersonal spaces. They are an extension of me, of how I play, and what matters to me. I’m not a cold woman, and I am not distant. I’m not interested in trying to scare you with a space that looks like a jail cell. If I frighten you with anything in a scene, it will be with the heat and the intimacy of my gaze.

So rather, call these rooms my salon, my boudoir, my private chambers. The walls are deep red, and the ceiling is black. When I told the painter what colors to use, he looked at me quizzically and asked, “What kind of room is this going to be?” The thick carpet is black, too. When I bought it, the salesman said, “Black? You’re sure you want black carpet?” I gave all of them the stare I use to quell unruly submissives. They didn’t question me further. My word is law in these rooms. I do not apologize for who I am, nor do I have to justify my wishes. You don’t challenge me here - you do as I say, or you leave.

I have heavy curtains over my windows, because I want the outside world to go away when I’m here. I have large mirrors on my walls because I want to see everything, and I want you to see it too. I will not allow you to think that your desires are ugly and should be hidden. In these rooms, we will speak of them and look at them and love them.

There is furniture of a special kind – furniture that’s tautly upholstered in slick, shiny black and trimmed with gleaming metal. A table large enough to lie down on, a tall chair with a seat that forces you to sit with your legs spread wide apart, and something that looks like a particularly large and sturdy prayer kneeler. I designed all these pieces, and they were built especially for me by a man who wanted to occupy them.

I was already an experienced dominant when I met him. But in the scenes I did with him on the furniture he crafted for me, I went deeper into my capacity for sadism than I’d ever been before. He trusted me enough to tell me where he wanted to go – right up to the brink of unendurable pain. I trusted him enough to take him there. My challenge was to listen to him and not to the disapproving voices in my head that said Stop! You’re going too far! On these pieces of furniture, I learned how to really call forth, direct, and trust my talent for taking people’s bodies and minds through intense sensations.

I carry a sense of power and an awareness of what I am capable of with me everywhere I go. But I am told by people who know me that a subtle change comes over me when I walk into my space. In the rest of my world, I can be as polite and correct as a diplomat. Here, the filter of socially acceptable behavior comes off me. I feel utterly myself in these rooms. I do nothing I don’t wish to do, I say whatever it pleases me to say, and I indulge myself in whatever pleasure take my fancy. Paradoxically, the more license for selfishness I permit myself in these rooms, the more generous to my partners I become. When you call yourself “Mistress”, most people assume you’ll be a mean bitch – and I can be. But when I am freed from any expectation of kindness and compassion, I find that I also have much of those traits to bestow.

I can play in other places, and I do. But this space is special to me. I’m proud of what I have created here. These are not just rooms. When you’re in my space, you’re inside my head. And if you’re in my space, it’s because I want to get into yours.

Letters To The Mistress

Dear Mistress Matisse,

I am in a poly relationship with a man I’m engaged to. We’ve been together almost three years. He is very, very vanilla and I consider myself “mocha chip”. I’m not overly kinky but it is a very important part of my sexuality.

The problem is this: we have a “no marks” policy. The rule was created back when we first started dating and he was still with his ex-girlfriend. She would get extremely jealous at any hint that I existed so bite marks and scratches were a huge no-go. We’ve kept the policy since she left, although I’ve tried to revisit it a bit lately. I have recently found a man who has…one particular toy I’m interested in trying, a violet wand. The wand can unfortunately leave a bit of a sunburn-like burn.

My partner says he’s okay with marks as long as he doesn’t have to see them; which basically means that if I play with the wand, I can’t have sex with him until the burn has gone. His argument is he doesn’t want the reminder of the things I’ve done with other guys.

Now, I have found traces of his other girlfriends in his room. Once I had to point out a necklace one of his girlfriends had left on his bed. This happens fairly often given that he’s a messy person (so am I) and I’ve gotten used to it. The necklace was from a girlfriend I didn’t like so I had some trouble with it and he told me I’d have to get used to it as it would happen from time to time.

So I’m seeing a double standard here. He can leave traces of other girls in his room and I have to get used to it (which I have) but I’m not allowed to leave traces of other men on me (which I haven’t, yet). I’ve tried to broach the subject with him and he doesn’t seem to get the double standard. Recently when he brought up the no-marks policy I flat out told him “so I’m not going to find any more necklaces then?”

I’m getting to the point where I’m thinking of refusing to have sex with him whenever he leaves traces of his other partners in his room. I don’t want to do this as I know its passive aggressive and silly; especially since it doesn’t bug me that much.

I worry that this is a sign of things to come. I went to a kink-themed party at a local bar and he refused sex with me for almost a week after, citing it felt “weird” to have my sexual energy from the party transfer to him.

Is having sex with a t-shirt on my only option to have my kink and fuck him too?

Here's the technique part of my reply to this: Violet wands do not always leave marks. Occasionally they do. But - especially if you keep moving the wand around, and don’t keep it in one place for more than a few seconds - it probably won’t. I bet you could have this man test your skin someplace inconspicuous, like your lower leg, and see if you seem terribly prone to being marked by it. That would inform your future play choices.

That said: your fiancé needs to get right on over himself. This is indeed a double standard. And yes, you’re right, it’s a bad sign for the future, so draw a line in the sand. I don’t think you should refuse to have sex with him over things that don’t really bother you. I think you should just do whatever kind of kink you want, and if Mr. Vanilla can’t handle the “energy”, then he just won’t get to look at (or have access to) your pretty naked self, will he? The loss is his, not yours.

It is rare for anyone to willingly give up a situation where they are getting everything they want (like: having sex with more than one person and not having to hide anything), and nothing they don’t want (like: seeing some evidence of your partner doing the same, and having to handle some feelings of jealousy about that). Some people would rather field irritated remarks from a lover than relinquish such an arrangement.

Luckily, you have complete power over the only thing that matters: your behavior. Tell him, calmly and kindly, that you are going to do BDSM play that may occasionally leave a mark or two. If he is offended by looking at you, you can fuck him with the lights off. Or you could blindfold him. Or – and I think this is the best option - he can just grow up, work out his issues, and give as good as he gets.

I'm still getting caught up with Real Life. So, a look back at some of Mistress Matisse's Greatest Blog Hits.

From the last few years:
Nazi Play
S/he's A Lady
The Bank Job
Bad Approach
The Bra-Fitter
D/s And Relationships
Must One Bottom Before Topping?
My Wedding Photos
Getting Your Partner Into Kink
Getting Started In Life As A Kinkster
And, my favorite: What Not To Say - The "Puffy" Man.

And, from the dusty vaults: Older Greatest Hits (Hint: Lots of Silly Phone Calls in this list.)

Fresh material soon!

I love this fun and informative graphic about men's sperm. I have only one thing to add: pineapple. For men and women, pineapple makes all your body fluids - and trust me, I mean all of them* - taste sweeter. I love fruit, and I eat a lot of it, and I think pineapple has a much more noticeable effect than any other fruit. So if you want to taste better, eat pineapple, or at least drink the juice.

(*Okay, I guess I don't know about the taste of one's blood. But sweat, spit, girl secretions, and piss? Absolutely. I also have a theory that drinking lots of diet pop makes one's piss sweeter - all that aspartame, sucralose and acesulfame potassium coursing through one's system. That's based only on remarks made to me about my particular flavor though, so I have no real evidence whatsoever to support this idea. However, if some scientist wants to do a controlled study, I can certainly supply taste-testers.)



View this image full-size, in a new window, here on the OnlineSchools site.

Link via The Sexademic

You’ve Got Questions, I’ve Got Answers

Dear Mistress Matisse: I have listened to a couple of your podcasts and enjoy them, however I was wondering if you might know if downloading the podcasts to my ipod is possible through the program you use? I listen to the Savage Love podcast (downloaded from ITunes) while walking the dog or working out and would love the opportunity to do the same with yours! If it turns out that there is a simple fix to this I apologize, I am techno challenged...

I’m mildly techno-challenged myself, so I understand, but there is an easy fix for this. Go to the iTunes store and search for Mistress Matisse’s Podcast. I’m there.

Dear Mistress Matisse: A couple years ago you wrote about a man who enjoyed getting kicked in the balls. A man I like revealed that he is looking for someone who can do this for him. I don't remember the actual post, but I do remember you writing something about how you have to be very careful about how you impact so as not to do actual damage. So, as much as I want to be able to do this for him, I am nervous that actual damage can be done. I am generally pretty vanilla when it comes to my experiences, but this man makes me feel safe and comfortable to explore and I want to try this. Can you point me to this post again? Or any advice you may have would be really appreciated. I wasn't able to find a search function on your blog. Thank you for your time and consideration in this.

Well, I’m using Firefox and for me, the search box is in the upper left hand corner. A better way to search is to use the advanced search function on Mistress Google.

Also, if one is looking for my words of wisdom on any given topic, one should remember to look through the Stranger archives.

The real answer here is: I can’t teach you ball-kicking electronically. Some things that I know how to do are so tactile, so experiential, that even though I love words, words alone simply do not convey them adequately. If I had you in the room with me, I could show you. Since I don’t, what I can say is: yeah, you can damage someone if you do this wrong. Every man’s body is a little different, so you have to start lightly and be very careful. Some people can handle a light tap - about the level of force you’d use to push a beloved-but-annoying cat out of a doorway so you could get by. Other people, if you do it in just the right area of their groin, can handle a kick that would do David Beckham proud. I once did a scene where I kicked someone so hard and so many times that my foot was bruised and quite sore afterward. I’m serious. I wasn’t sure I hadn’t broken a little bone somewhere. My victim? “Eh, I was a little sensitive the next day, but not much.” So, results vary.

Start like this: have him lay on the floor, spread his legs, cup his balls with his hands and pull them upwards towards his stomach. You stand up between his knees, hold onto something for balance, and just tap the top of your foot, above your toes, on his taint. See how that goes.

I haven’t read these for awhile, so I’ve forgotten if they get into kicking. But education is never a waste, so try these books: The Family Jewels and More Family Jewels. (I am highly amused to see that they are available on Kindle!)

Happy kicking!

...One more thought: you can kick women, too, and it's also fun. Same advice - you can do damage if you don't do it properly, so be very careful, and start very lightly. Have her put her hand over her clit to protect it and her pubic bone, and just tap the top of your foot below it, on her perineum.

A Question For The Kinky Neurologists

Yes, it's a letters sort of week. But on this letter, I am putting out a call for suggestions. It's a tricky one, and I'd like to help this reader if I can.

Dear Mistress Matisse,

(Edited a bit for length. She said some very sweet things about my writing that made me smile.)

Thank you for helping to lay the groundwork that allowed me to come to a more fully actualized possession of myself as a masochist.

...I developed epilepsy due to a small laundry list of complications that occurred during my pregnancy. I have grand mal seizures and intense migraines now both of which are brought on primarily by too much stress; mentally, emotionally, or physically. I am being treated by a neurologist and I am medicated. My seizures have limited what I am able to do or the extent to which I am able to engage in a range of activities - I am contacting you in regards to what is perhaps the most viscerally frustrating.

My appetite for pain (bloodplay, floggings) and psychologically intense scenes (like rape fantasies) now far exceeds what I know I should really be putting myself through. Watered down scenes leave me restless and unfulfilled and while I can occasionally find satisfaction in primarily submissive play, in my heart I will always be a painslut. I enjoy being physically overpowered and it is nearly impossible for me to find my own pleasure without pain.

I suppose my question is simple yet infuriatingly vague - what should I do? My primary partner is new to BDSM (not that I'm exactly a veteran myself) so while he is wonderfully attentive and willing to learn, he doesn't have the experience or the intuition to be overly helpful. I'm almost always sexually frustrated now, and I'm at a loss as to how to reconcile my new limitations with the deliciously cruel treatment I crave.

Wow, this is a tough one. I get a lot of questions like this, from people who want to do BDSM, but who are challenged by various medical conditions. Usually I can come up with some suggestion. If you can't be hit with anything, if you can't have your skin broken, if you're not very strong, if your hearing or your vision or your speech or your balance are compromised - there are ways around most things. I've done BDSM with people in wheelchairs. You have to be creative, and it may not look just like the porn movies, but there's usually a way.

This one, though? I'm rather stumped. If you just flat can't be in any sort of pain or stress, regardless of how it's induced, then - my dear girl, you have my profound sympathy, but I don't know what to tell you.

Have you talked to your doctor about this? I think that's important, although I think you should go very carefully with that conversation. I would not use words like painslut and masochist. But you could certainly talk about how you and your partner like very vigorous sex, very intense sex.

But here's the one thing I can do for you: I can ask everyone else who's reading this: what do you know about this? Medical people in this field, and and other kinky people who have epilepsy - talk to me. What can this woman do? My email is MistressMatisse at aol.com, or at gmail.com.

I'll post replies here, and/or cut out the text and send it to her. Either way, everyone's anonymity will be preserved. Help me come up with some suggestions for this girl!

I’m working on a Stranger column about my overall experiences of shooting with the Kink.com site, EverythingButt.com. But today I’ll just answer some of the questions that people have emailed me about it.

Why EverythingButt.com? Because the director, Lochai, is a pal of mine from the BDSM scene. I ran into him at Folsom Street Fair, and he asked me to come model. And I actually do a lot of ass play, so it seemed like a good fit, if you’ll pardon the expression.

What exactly did you do in the shoot? There’s some spanking, and a lot of really pretty ass-fucking. I think it’s a very sexy shoot that will appeal to people who like sensual dominance, and even people who may not think of themselves as having a specific fetish for anal play, but who like to see beautiful women having kinky sex.

Did you know the submissive? No, I had never met Bobbi Starr. I’d seen pictures, so I knew she was quite lovely, but I had no idea what to really expect from her, and from the overall scene. I did not know what the theme of the shoot was going to be until that morning. That’s how it usually works in porn. But it was a type of scene I like, and Bobbi was great.

Will you have pictures/video from the shoot? Yes, I’ll have some images. I don’t think I get video clips, although kink.com always has free trailers.

Are you going to model for of the other Kink.com sites? I don’t know. I haven’t been invited to. If one of the other directors asks me – or if Lochai asks me back - then I suppose I’ll decide when it comes up.

Are you going to model for any other BDSM porn sites? I might, if someone asked me, and I had a good feeling about the company, and the concept of the shoot. I’d be hesitant to do a BDSM porn shoot where I didn’t know any of the people involved in the production. So I don’t say “I would never…” But I’d have to be quite sure we were all on the same page about things.

I want to be a porn model! How much did you get paid? How much I got paid is between me and the IRS. But Kink.com posts their general pay rates here.

Did you see lots of other hot and kinky things happening while you were there? Nope. I saw a few other models walking around in the halls and such, but nothing kinky. It’s not like being at a play party.

One random thing I noticed: porn people seem very, very concerned about santorum. Like, very. I myself have been playing with people's asses for a long time, and I am a little casual about it. No, I am not into scat. Yes, if you want me to play with your ass, you should definitely clean it up. (I cannot tell you how many boys I have seen over the years who did not even wipe themselves properly. I’m serious. I think little boys do not get trained about wiping themselves as much as little girls do, or something.

Here’s how you do it, gentlemen. While you are still sitting, wipe, and then look at the toilet paper. Is it dirty? Drop it, get a fresh handful and wipe again. Repeat this until the paper shows no smudges. Is that clear? The while you’re sitting part is important because it means your ass is more spread open and thus easier to clean.)

So we’ll assume that the outside of your ass is clean. If you just want a few fingers or a smallish buttplug, not too much deep, serious fucking, then cleaning the inside is pretty simple. One of those disposable enemas is probably fine. They’re in the drugstore, usually less than a dollar. They have some chemicals in them, and some people don’t like that, so if you don’t, dump out the fluid and refill it with lukewarm water. Do this at least an hour or so before you want to play, because sometimes small amounts of water don’t come out right away. So if you do the anal-douche and then immediately fuck, that water will come out on your partner. Not the end of the world, but not what you planned.

For more advanced fucking, more advanced cleaning techniques are required, but that’s beyond the scope of today’s post.

But Ms. Bobbi Starr clearly knows those techniques, because her ass was as clean as a whistle throughout a four-hour shoot - and some very large toys. I would not have been surprised or upset by a little bit of schmutz. Shit happens, you know? It's not the goal, but it’s sometimes the price of admission. You do want to be aware, because shit can be gritty and make anal fucking uncomfortable, but otherwise – that’s what black towels are for. Change your gloves, change the condom, wipe it up, whatever – and keep fucking.

(And yes, wash up carefully afterwards. But you should be doing that anyway.)

So that’s my philosophy. But not in porn, no no. Every time a toy came out my co-star’s ass, there was a whole little flutter with the director and the camera crew about "Is it clean? It's not dirty, is it?"

I was like, “No, it looks fine, but hey, it’s no big deal.” However, my view was clearly the minority. I briefly wondered if it was a legal issue of some kind. I know there are some elements in porn that, theoretically, make prosecutors more likely to tag you with an obscenity charge.

But that seems unlikely. I was left with the assumption that kink.com – and porn people in general - know what their viewers like, and they know what the viewers get turned off if they see. And seeing anything brown was clearly a no-no.

Which would explain why the bathroom in the Armory has shelves and shelves full of disposable enema kits – both the pre-filled kind and empty single-use bottles – for free use by the performers. Art does not imitate life when it comes to anal sex in porn.

This may surprise you, but there are still some kinky things I haven’t done yet. Not many, but some. However, that list has gotten shorter lately. What new experience have I tried? Fisting boys.

(If you’re not into reading about boys being on the receiving end of anal penetration, this would be your cue to leave.

Still here? That’s consent in my book. One more thing: If you’re someone who plays with me, but is never going to get fisted in his whole life, I don’t want you to read this and think “Oh god, I can’t do that, she must not really enjoy playing with me.” That is not the case. I don’t want to do any one thing to the exclusion of all others. This is not a competition - everyone I play with brings something special to the scene. Okay? Okay.)

Now then… I am not new to the idea of getting my whole hand inside someone - I have fisted quite a few women’s pussies. But I hadn’t done any anal fisting. Why not? Well, I have known some anally-accomplished boys, and a couple of them were game to try it, but they were all as cherry at handballing as I was. For my first boy fist-fucking adventure, I wanted someone who’d done it before - someone who knew his own ass very well, and someone I could trust to tell me exactly what I needed to know, moment by moment. To include, “We need to stop now.”

Because anal fisting is not something you just (pardon the expression) plunge into. There is a distinct difference between my hand and a dildo. (Even a big dildo.) Fist-fucking is one of those kink things where, if you don’t do it right, you can damage someone. I don’t mean damage as in “Ow, I’m kinda sore,” I mean damage as in peritonitis. That's bad.

There is also the matter of preparation. I’ve done a lot of anal play, so I’m not freaked out by a little santorum. But I knew that for fisting, someone needs to know how to clean themselves out appropriately. It’s a matter of safety and comfort as much as esthetics. Shit can be gritty. You do not want to rub a gritty substance into delicate tissue.

So I’d read books, and I’d seen some very lovely demonstrations of the art, and I’d talked to knowledgeable people, but the perfect person just hadn’t come along yet.

And then - he did. (Hey there, darlin’!)

So we made a date, and I spread him out and lubed him up and did various pervy things to get us both in the mood, and then I popped on the glove and said “Okay, talk me through this.” I kept pushing - slowly, slowly – and asking questions. “Is it better if I put more pressure this way, or that way? Does it feel good when I do this?” He was exactly what I needed to him to be: communicative, enthusiastic, confident in his own abilities, yet displaying a charming awareness of his vulnerability.

It’s really quite something to watch your hand vanish into someone else’s body. As with many things about BDSM, it instantly re-sets your understanding of what a human body can do. The inside of a woman’s pussy feels, I don’t know, muscle-y-er? That’s not a word, I know. But once you’re past the anal ring, the inside of a boy’s ass feels softer, more velvety. (At least, this boy’s does!)

You can definitely feel the prostate gland, and that’s nice to stroke, but there are other fun places to touch, too. It’s delightful to just wiggle your hand the slightest bit - and elicit a big reaction. It’s tremendously intimate, too. I could feel his heart beating. It’s sort of amazing to feel that and think, Well, yeah - your hand isn’t that far away from it!

And that’s why I do BDSM: I like to play with people’s bodies, and I like it to feel very, very intimate.

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!

Believe. In Gravity.

Last night Elvis and I got to observe something you don't see very often: a very high-budget, high-tech Las Vegas strip performance go spectacularly wrong.

Apart from this incident, I could review the Criss Angel/Cirque Du Soliel show, Believe, in two words: don't go. It's pretty bad. I don't like to say that about performers, because I know what it's like to put yourself out there, but - yeah, it's just pretty bad.

I've never seen Mr. Angel before, so I don't know what he's like on TV. But he doesn't really do much of anything in the show. I mean, he pulls some doves out of his sleeve, and otherwise he mainly runs around the stage and strikes poses while dressed like a Hot Topic store blew up on him. The whole thing was sort of like a bad homage to Nine Inch Nails videos, only without the music. Occasionally he'd put drapes over things and make them disappear - which is really not an awe-inspiring feat on a stage fitted out with wires and trapdoors. We could see the lines sometimes. Sloppy.

And there were giant bunnies. Very creepy giant bunnies. Matisse no like weird giant bunnies. Uh uh.

But Elvis and I were having fun anyway, because we always have fun, so it wasn't tragic. We were seated in the second row, right in the center, and we had cocktails, and we were cracking jokes to each other. And some of the Cirque Du Soliel dance numbers were okay. (Although, only some, and only okay, which is highly unusual for Cirque Du Soliel.)

And then Mr. Angel started gearing up for what was obviously The Big Trick. They put a white leather straitjacket on him (I liked that) and hoisted him up in the air by his ankles, a la Harry Houdini. I'd say he was about, oh, maybe thirty feet up in the air? Or more.

Then they flew him out over the audience, so he was actually behind us, more or less centered over the house. And they shone a spotlight on him as he dramatically wiggled out of the straitjacket. Ta-da.

So that was fine. Then the house and the stage all went dark for an instant, and then... Things went wrong somehow. There were some voices yelling, and the house lights came up to show us Mr. Angel still up high in the air, still upside down by his ankles. He was closer to the stage, but he was still out over the seats. And he was not happy. Not at all.

The obvious end of the trick was: they were supposed to fly him back to the stage in the dark, and drop him into a waiting trunk, from which he would then triumphantly emerge a moment later. "Ha ha! Look, here I am!"

However, something went wrong, and what we heard Mr. Angel yelling was: "Don't use the automation, don't use the automation!" It was not the voice of a man making a casual suggestion. I inferred that he meant: "Don't move this line I'm hanging from." I don't know what happened to make Mr. Angel think he was in imminent danger of falling thirty feet straight down onto his head, but that is clearly what he was afraid was going to happen.

At first we thought it was part of the show. But after a minute, it was clear that no, this was serious. A voice came over the loudspeaker, "Ladies and gentlemen, please remain seated while this problem is taken care of...." A dozen tech guys with headsets swarmed around the edge of the stage and the house floor, barking orders at the booth and reassuring Mr. Angel, who managed to stay reasonably calm.

But I myself have done a lot of inverted suspensions with Max. I have hung by my ankles with my head at least twenty feet from the ground, and I know what it felt like when I was afraid that I was going to fall. No one I have played with has never dropped me, or even come close. But still, it was really not a pleasant feeling. Elvis and I were close enough to see Mr. Angel's face, and he looked like he felt exactly the same way about it as I did.

I looked as carefully as I could, but I could not tell what was wrong with the rig. I don't think it was the ankle harness, and the hardware connecting him to the line looked okay. But all the techs seemed to agree with Mr. Angel that something bad might happen. This was not an: "Oh dear, Mr. Angel's trick went wrong, how embarrassing. But he's perfectly safe." No, the energy was definitely: "Criss, don't move, we're going to get you down, but do not move."

To rescue him, they dropped two more lines down to the techs, who hooked them together into a U-shape and put a big wide padded strap on them. They flew that up to Mr. Angel, who instantly seized it in a death grip, slipped the strap around his torso, and unclipped himself from the bad line.

The whole incident took about six or seven minutes. That's a long, long time when you think you're about to fall. To his credit, when Mr. Angel landed on the stage, he turned and thanked us for our utter silence and stillness during the rescue. He cracked a joke about the joys of doing live entertainment - but he had that pale, cold-sweat look to him.

There was a brief "intermission" and then - they went on with the show. Because that's what you do. I thought, "Well, it was already pretty bad before, so at least they don't have to worry about it being bad now."

But it makes you think. I've heard about a couple of bad suspension-related falls lately in the national bondage scene. Not fatal, luckily, but bad. This is a Vegas production costing millions of dollars, and employing highly trained people who lift things up in the air professionally. And still, something went wrong - something I suspect had the potential to be very bad indeed. Thank god it didn't, because whatever one thinks of Mr. Angel as a performer, one would not want him to fall on his head. He didn't seem to feel that his magic powers would save him if he did fall. I don't think yours would either. Be careful, people. Be very careful.

Here's the new column in The Stranger, about kink bloopers... Just about everyone I talked to about this column had a lulu of a story for me. It was hard to pick just a few. Enjoy reading about the painful errors of other good tops - as long as you don't repeat them!

The new Stranger column, in which I discuss mean dirty talk. As opposed to nice dirty talk. Enjoy it while I get ready to zoom off to Portland!

Let's see, I have a bunch of notes about different things.

There's a new episode of Family...

Classical music fans will enjoy it.

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Also, I know I twittered about it already, but Alien Trespass was great, and you should all go see it when it opens! Yes, I admit, a dear friend of mine is involved with it, so this is naked propaganda. But I'm quite fond of him and pleased for his success with this, and I'm doing what I can about it. Plus it really is just a delightfully fun movie.

Side note: there's an actress in the movie who so reminded me of a pal of mine, local diva Miss Indigo Blue, that when she came on-screen, I had to look sharply for a moment to be certain that it wasn't actually her! It's the character named "Lana", if you see the film - both her look and her manner are very Indigo Blue-ish.

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In other film-y notes, I'll be attending this event Tuesday night: the Seattle launch of the arts and culture site The Rumpus, with a screening of the horror film Pig Hunt. (At least, I think I am. I like shoot-'em-up movies, but sometimes I am not so fond of gory horror movies. But I'm going to go prefunk at least, and I'm sure it'll be a cool event overall.)

***

Congratulations again to my pal Lamalani, who just won the International Ms Leather Contest!

***

And speaking of leather events, I am going to Portland for Kinkfest this weekend. So I'm out of town Friday March 27th through Monday the 30th. It should be a very kinky good time for all...

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.

I had an email exchange with someone lately that reminded me, for one thing, how happy I am that I don’t have to see anyone new unless I think we’re really well-suited to each other. Because this man and I were clearly not a good match.

Essentially, he wanted to do a boxing/punching scene in which I punched him, in the face and head, until he went unconscious. (He would not fight back.) His exact phrase was “The session ends when I am knocked out, or just can't get up.”

Now, there’s nothing inherently wrong with this as a fantasy. Chester French videos aside, this kind of masochism isn’t as sexualized as often as, say, spanking. But there are men around who like it, and I know of women who do it. Still, it’s not my specialty, and so I do not have vast experience doing boxing and punching.

Thus my response was that I was willing to discuss a scene where I hit him, but I was definitely not willing to beat him unconscious. That is not a safe thing to do. Frankly, I’m not sure that I would feel comfortable punching someone in the face, period. That doesn’t make a lot of sense, given that I do other painful things to people. From what I have seen, one generally wears boxing gloves for scenes like this. And people box and get hit in the face every day. But still, I have no training in how to hit someone in face, and even if I did it lightly, it just seems like a really easy way to damage someone. And my personal limit is that I will hurt you, in ways you consent to, but I will not consent to damage you.

There’s a big difference, to me. Pain = sensation in the moment. Or at least something that’s short-term and that will heal. A bruised butt is painful in the making and sore for a while afterwards, but it’s not damage. I define damage as: a permanent change to your body that impairs normal function and/or causes ongoing emotional distress. A big scar that you didn’t want, for example, is damage, even if it doesn’t impair your functioning.

So in the course of my response to him, I said, “Any scene with me ends when I say it does.” Meaning, I wasn’t going to keep hitting him if I judged it to be a bad idea. Even if he wanted me to.

Well, he didn’t want me to have that limit. So, he and I are not going to meet. It’s funny, when people talk about consent in BDSM, they always talk about bottoms getting pushed past their personal limits. You don’t hear as much about a bottom trying to make a top hurt him/her beyond the top’s boundaries. However, my right to safeword out of a scene is just as valid as a bottom’s. Consent has to be present on both sides. The minute that's not there, what you’re doing is no longer anything I consider healthy BDSM. So I think we’ll call this negotiation a Technical Knock-Out.