The Novice - BDSM SESSION REVIEW

Written by phil and moved here, Mar 14 2016 

I lay naked face down on the floor as my nipple clamps were beginning to bite. I could hear a rummaging as Mistress Leyla searched out of my sight.

“I’m just looking for something for you to ride,” she muttered deliberately teasing. I remembered what I had put in my e-mail but was she really going to go through with it? Earlier I was surprised to go outside and for her to fulfill my first fantasy but surely the next thing I asked for was going beyond her remit.

It was if there was a refusal to believe that these fantasies could come true even though Mistress did nothing to hide her agenda. It wasn’t until I was struck on my buttocks for being late that I really believed I was going to be punished. It was not until I was naked outdoors did I believe that would happen, despite being on a lead indoors going through doggie commands.

The denial going through my head was absolute and even when Mistress Leyla said, “I’m looking for something for you to ride” I still didn’t believe what I was in for.

“Turn over she ordered and I obeyed the long nipple clamps catching on the floor and whipping around on release as my body turned. I lay on my back and looked up and caught sight of myself in an overhead mirror.

Yes it really was me, I had final submitted whole-heartedly to a mistress and was awaiting more torments. I was in a dream, I congratulated myself for making it to the world of my fantasies but was she really going to shaft me?

I looked to the side, still not daring to believe and I saw Mistress with a large pink tapered strap-on protruding from her crotch. I swallowed hard as she expertly rolled on a condom along its entire length. I began to worry a little; the strap-on was at least eight inches long and when a man is going to be on the receiving end of a phallus you don’t exaggerate.

Mistress strolled casually towards me stroking her cock slowly, either to tease or torture me mentally, or professionally ironing out any air bubbles. She stood upright between my legs.

“All of our strap-ons are cleaned thoroughly’ she announced, to ally any fears. I did feel better for that information but with it came the realization that I really was going to get shafted!

“First I want you to suck my cock!” she stated with relish and knelt to my side her knees in-between my arm and torso. I wondered how she was going to take me, was she going to do me missionary style where I was laying, getting me to pull my legs up so I would be in the diaper position or have me on all fours and have me doggie style? There was a bondage table waiting menacingly in the corner of the room and I thought she would take me there rather than join me on the floor.

She offered her cock to me and for the time being I would do my best to please her. I didn’t mind being humiliated, that didn’t hurt and as long as her cock was in my mouth it wasn’t going to be doing damage elsewhere.

“Suck it!” she commanded with authority and I quickly lifted my head to clamp my mouth on her strap-on.

Rethinking The Body in Pain

Michael McIntyre

Department of International Studies

(Download PDF here)

By most measures, Elaine Scarry’s The Body in Pain (1985) has been a stunning academic success story. Continuously in print for nearly thirty years, it still ranks among Amazon’s (2015) top ten sellers in literary theory and counts over six thousand academic citations (Google Scholar 2015). Reviewed upon its release by prominent public intellectuals in New Republic (Ignatieff 1985), Commonweal (Wyschogrod 1986), TLS (Byatt 1986), New York Times Book Review (Suleiman 1986), New York Review of Books (Singer 1986), and London Review of Books (Shklar 1986), it has nonetheless not been until now the subject of systematic retrospective. While it has proved unusually fertile as a source of fresh thinking, few have extensively engaged its philosophical argument, Moyn (2013) being one notable exception.

This brief paper can hardly make claim to such an extended engagement, but within its brief compass it will attempt to come to grips with the philosophical core of Scarry’s argument and critique it on home ground. That core, to recap with utmost brevity, is that the self is constructed through the linguistic cathexis between body and world. Pain destroys that cathexis and therefore destroys the self. There is a great deal to be said in favor of this core argument; no attempt will be made here to overturn it. It will be suggested, however, that Scarry makes a signal error at the very beginning of her argument when she suggests that pain is sheerly aversive (1985, p. 52). A more complicated phenomenology of pain will be suggested in its place, and some of its consequences explored.

The Argument Restated

The Battle for Self-Expression amidst #Transphobic Street Violence

Anna Kozak

RyersonUniversity

“What I Wanted to Wear”: The Battle for Self-Expression amidst Transphobic Street Violence 

( you can download PDF here)

On Sunday, July 12th, 2015 at 11:10 pm, Alok Vaid-Menon, one of the two members of the Trans South Asian poetry collective, Darkmatter, posted a picture on Facebook of themselves in a dress. The caption stated, “The story goes something like this: Every morning when I wake up and look at my closet I ask myself, ‘How much do I want to be street harassed today?’” (Vaid-Menon). Vaid-Menon, who prefers the pronoun ‘they,’ answers their own question with, “This means I usually gravitate away from the skirts and dresses and move begrudgingly toward the more conventionally ‘masculine’ clothing. I consider for a moment how peculiar it feels that I have been made to find safety and security in masculinity—this thing that has been such a site of violence and anxiety in my past.” This post was particularly salient in the social media world, receiving almost twenty-thousand likes and producing valuable dialogue on what it means to be trans and gender non-conforming in a world that demands conformity to gender binaries in exchange for physical and emotional safety. This post’s capacity for discursive production, however, was not limited to the world of social media. It also inspired a movement called “What I Wanted to Wear” on the website, Medium, which is a self-proclaimed online

“community of  readers  and  writers  offering unique  perspectives  on  ideas  large  and  small”

(“About Medium”). “What I Wanted to Wear” extends Vaid-Menon’s post into a project centred around trans and gender non-conforming subjects’ clothing selections, fixating on the disparity between what they desire to wear and what they ultimately choose to wear to avoid street harassment and life-threatening transphobic violence. Each contribution to the project follows a similar pattern: the user creates a post that contains two juxtaposing photos—one that resembles relatively cis-normative attire, representing “what I wore,” and one that reveals the individual’s authentic gender expression, representing “what I wanted to wear.” The term “authentic” in this context refers to the gender expression with which the individual most closely identifies, although the notion of authenticity is often used in dominant gender discourse to dismiss trans and gender non-conforming individuals’ identities, which will be discussed later on in this paper. Beneath each set of photographs are quotations from the trans or gender non-conforming subject that foster a discussion about the connection between clothing, gender fluidity, and transphobic violence. Each post ends with the individual’s preferred pronoun use and the statement, “Feeling deep ambivalence about how we dress is something the trans and gender non-conforming communities experience acutely, but it’s not just about us. We’d love to hear from everybody about how we navigate self presentation each day.” I use the words “trans” and “gender non-conforming” in accordance with the movement’s terminology, although many contributors have more specific identities, such as “transwoman” for Aaryn Lang or “agender trans male” for Pax Gethen. This combination of visual presentation and text depicts clothing choice as a symbol of self-expression and raises awareness about the daily struggles that gender non-conforming people endure, which are potentially life-threatening, to express a fluid gender that defies the

“two-sex model” of binary gender, “radical dimorphism, [and] biological divergence” that has dominated gender discourse since the “late eighteenth century” (Lacqueur 5-6).

Domme + sub. The most honest relationship you will ever have.

The relationship between a Domme and a submissive is probably the most honest relationship there is. There is no need for lies and half truths or secrets. This fact is not always on the forefront of my daily thoughts, but occasionally something is said or acted upon which reminds me just how open and honest a BDSM relationship can be.

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of one of my long term submissives kneeling before my feet. We had just finished an hour's intense session and we were winding down, discussing the session and catching a few minutes of calmness. 

My submissive looked at me and said. "Mistress, you are the one person on this earth that I can be truly myself. Be truly open and honest with you. I can talk about issues in my daily life which are problematic . Share my most inner thoughts with you. I don't have to pretend about who or what I am. I can be me."

I am not often speechless or void of an instant reflective comment.The brutal sincerity and openness between a sub and Domme is something I know well. His comments slapped me into remembering this much taken for granted fact, and like a long forgotten ache, I had the realisation that I had grown complacent to the wonders of such an sincere and straightforward relationship.

As Dommes, we are not singularly defined or characterised by our skill with a bull whip. And our subs are not simply our play things - to degrade, humiliate and hurt then throw away. We become their counsellors. Their trusted confidant. A friend whom they can trust without question. Our responsibilities as Dommes grows from safe, sane and consensual to encompass spiritual, mental and emotional wellbeing.

I am glad I was reminded about how special a BDSM relationship can be, how difficult if not impossible  it can be to find anything resembling this openness in the vanilla world,  because the vanilla world is the fictional picket fenced country house. Full of insecurities, lies and deceptions.  Bdsm allows one to be free - in thought and structure. Free from casual social restraints, cultural binds and moral servitude.  

The Novice - 1st hand account of a #BDSM session with Mistress Leyla

Written by Back2egg. This story is an account of a session we had together. It was a 2 hour, so a long piece of writing. Enjoy.

The original can be seen HERE:

I lay naked face down on the floor as my nipple clamps were beginning to bite. I could hear a rummaging as Mistress Leyla searched out of my sight.

“I’m just looking for something for you to ride,” She muttered deliberately teasing. I remembered what I had put in my e-mail but was She really going to go through with it? Earlier I was surprised to go outside and for Her to fulfill my first fantasy but surely the next thing I asked for was going beyond Her remit.

It was if there was a refusal to believe that these fantasies could come true even though Mistress did nothing to hide Her agenda. It wasn’t until I was struck on my buttocks for being late that I really believed I was going to be punished. It was not until I was naked outdoors did I believe that would happen, despite being on a lead indoors going through doggie commands.

The denial going through my head was absolute and even when Mistress Leyla said, “I’m looking for something for you to ride” I still didn’t believe what I was in for.

“Turn over She ordered and I obeyed the long nipple clamps catching on the floor and whipping around on release as my body turned. I lay on my back and looked up and caught sight of myself in an overhead mirror.

Yes it really was me, I had final submitted whole-heartedly to a Mistress and was awaiting more torments. I was in a dream, I congratulated myself for making it to the world of my fantasies but was She really going to shaft me?

I looked to the side, still not daring to believe and I saw Mistress with a large pink tapered strap-on protruding from Her crotch. I swallowed hard as She expertly rolled on a condom along its entire length. I began to worry a little; the strap-on was at least eight inches long and when a man is going to be on the receiving end of a phallus you don’t exaggerate.

Mistress strolled casually towards me stroking Her cock slowly, either to tease or torture me mentally, or professionally ironing out any air bubbles. She stood upright between my legs.

“All of our strap-ons are cleaned thoroughly.’ She announced, to allay any fears. I did feel better for that information but with it came the realization that I really was going to get shafted!

“First I want you to suck my cock!” She stated with relish and knelt to my side Her knees in-between my arm and torso. I wondered how She was going to take me, was She going to do me missionary style where I was laying, getting me to pull my legs up so I would be in the diaper position or have me on all fours and have me doggie style? There was a bondage table waiting menacingly in the corner of the room and I thought She would take me there rather than join me on the floor.

She offered Her cock to me and for the time being I would do my best to please Her. I didn’t mind being humiliated, that didn’t hurt and as long as Her cock was in my mouth it wasn’t going to be doing damage elsewhere.

“Suck it!” She commanded with authority and I quickly lifted my head to clamp my mouth on Her strap-on.

I sucked quickly noticing the latex sheath on my tongue. As my head motioned back and forth my teeth lightly chattered on Her cock and I forced my jaw to open wider not wanting to puncture the condom.

“Lick it!” She demanded and I instantly disengaged my mouth and went to sliding my tongue along the length.

“Suck it!” She quickly revised and once again Her cock was in my mouth slowly fucking away with tiny thrusts.

Again the will to please Her took over and I tried to gobble as much of Her pink strap-on down my throat as possible.

“Good boy” She praised genuinely pleased with my efforts as I quickly worked up the length. I started to gag and was quickly instructed by Mistress.

How to fly (as in airplane) with BDSM related gear

Although the below article is in relation to the USA, I think most Transportation bodies would be the same including the UK & Europe. there is also an interesting article on Prodomme.com

Hitting the Road - Traveling with Bondage Toys

Transexualism, Feminism, and Gender / The Great Transsexual Radical Feminist Menace

Exploring my pc I discovered a couple of articles I had saved on the feminist criticism of transexuals. They are dated 2008, so obviously some time ago. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to locate the original posts to refer to them. But, I'm going to post them here anyway....

Transexualism, Feminism, and Gender

" As aggressively vitriolic and hurtful as radical feminist criticism of transexuals often is, I believe that transexuals do themselves a grave disservice by dismissing that criticism as entirely rooted in blind transphobia. There is certainly a very strong element of transphobia in certain quarters of the feminist movement, but even a broken clock is right two times a day. It is hardly surprising that the majority of transexuals are heteronormative in terms of their chosen gender presentation and behaviour, but this becomes exceedingly problematic due to the extremely loud and highly active minority of transexuals who are militantly heteronormative.