Archive

Archive for the ‘sex’ Category

Childhood trails…

February 1, 2011 2 comments

Years ago, I wrote a post, cheekily titled “Masturbaticon I“, wherein I reflected on how I began my sexual journey and learned about my own body and my sexuality. I never did follow up on that post the way I’d intended, but I’ve recently found myself thinking a lot about my childhood influences on my emergent kinkiness.

This was in part sparked by an interesting experience I had while behind the counter at Wicked Grounds a few days prior. A rather disorganized college student walked up to the register and requested an interview for a school project he was doing on bondage and bdsm. It was slow enough that I agreed. I could devote a separate post on the interview alone, but for now, the question he asked that prodded me towards childhood reflection was in regard to how kink develops in people. Were people who had been abused or sexually assaulted more likely to be kinky?

Yes, well. My answer was much longer than anything he wrote down, and I get the feeling he was only half-listening, but as far as my personal experience goes, I was certainly never victim to either of those things. If anything, I was raised more sheltered than most, in a relatively conservative white town.

Regardless of whether I was able to disabuse him of the misconception that kink is a product of childhood trauma, the question of how kink develops in people is an interesting one. I know people arrive at kink from many paths; not everyone can pinpoint specific memories from their youth as kink precursors. And this was a question I also heard while in Australia, from my college friends.

Personally, the more I explore and experiment my kinky side, the more I am reminded of events, thoughts, and fantasies from when I was quite young that were definitely not straight-laced. And I think a significant chunk of those kink precursors can be found in what I was reading and watching as a kid. Besides the normal diet of age-appropriate books like The Chronicles of Narnia and Redwall, I was also inhaling my library’s supply of science-fiction and fantasy books. And between the highly designed book covers depicting scantily clad heroes and heroines (often wearing leather boots!) and frequently erotic undertones of these two genres, I was undoubtedly creating some highly charged erotic connections to alternative sexualities, rituals, protocols, and power exchange.

Still, it didn’t have to be sex-related or fantastical for me to take interest. There was definitely already a predisposition for kink in me. I remember reading the Nancy Drew books, for instance, and feeling a mixture of excitement and fear whenever the protagonist was in trouble – say, caught and bound by the bad guy, awaiting her fate, or being threatened with a weapon after making a climactic discovery. This was also true for many cartoons I watched that centered around the hero-villain battle. I was fascinated, utterly fascinated, by villains. The more devious and vicious the antagonist, the more thrilled and mesmerized I was by the show – especially if there was any kind of personal history between the characters.

The trend grew with me, and in high school, I met Iago in my sophomore English class. This villain enthralled me, and I’ve probably inflated his character in my memory since reading Othello, but I still love the dark, sinister imagery that appears in my head when I think of him. Darkly charismatic, devious, completely consumed with vengeance yet cool as ice…

I never actually wanted to either emulate or meet an Iago in person, of course. It was the darkness that attracted me – me, the good girl, the quiet one, the nice one. Villains were my outlet, my connection to a darker, more primal side I never dared to explore myself… Villains always sought power and took it by force if they had to (often enjoyed taking it by force anyway), and that above all hit a nerve in me.

I’ve held all these feelings tightly in check for years. But, little by little, and partner by partner, I’m not only getting to reveal some of these desires, but also fulfill quite a few of them.

And there are many more layers waiting for me to explore in the years to come.

Categories: life, reflection, sex

Inner Animal

July 10, 2010 Leave a comment

Given that I got only a marginal sexual education as a young adult, and given that sex was simply never a conversation my mother felt the need to have with me (at least until I was 19 and she discovered I’d started taking the birth control pill) I am rather surprised that I was allowed to watch regular, uncensored sex scenes on public television.  My mother even encouraged me to watch these weekly shows.

Of course, they usually looked like this:

I happen to find that kind of thing beautiful and eerie.  Growing up on a diet of nature documentaries (and, of course, falling madly in love with David Attenborough’s voice in the process) and a dearth of adult discussion, I didn’t even have a language for discussing sexuality outside of what I heard on these shows: words like mating, courtship rituals, and asexual reproduction.

Ever hungry for information, I eventually took my curiosity online and discovered sites like Sexuality.org, providing information on everything from anatomy to self-pleasure to bondage.

Now, a Biology degree later, I still find it fascinating how our sexuality is seen as a wholly separate entity from the sexual activities of the rest of the animal kingdom.  I also find it interesting that I personally never made the connection between the sexuality I was seeing on TV to my own burgeoning sexuality.

Humans don’t “mate”. We have sex, make love, fuck.  Our courtship rituals are “dates”.  We can fuck “like animals”, which suggests an inherent distinction between us and animals.  Of course, sex is just one of the many ways we strive to dichotomize our species from the rest.  When I talk to a close friend who is an evolutionary biologist about these kinds of topics, he always mentions his dislike for the differentiation of psychology as a distinct area of study from general animal behavior.

Whether or not you may agree with that sentiment, it is still an interesting thought process.  We are forever making a big deal out of what makes us unique, whether it be awareness of self (which dolphins, apes, and elephants have also exhibited), creating and using tools (Jane Goodall documented chimpazees using tools in the 1960s, and the same kind of behavior can be observed with dolphins and crows), or having sex solely as a pleasurable recreation.

As for that last one, I can only point to my visit to the Museum of Sex in NYC, which at that time had an exhibit called “The Sex Lives of Animals.”  It was fascinating and eye-opening.  There were videos of animals masturbating, photos of orgies, and plenty of evidence for homosexual behaviors and relationships across a wide spectrum of species.  While the exhibit reaffirmed for me the similarities and strong relationship between our behavior and those of all the species we share the majority of our genes with, it also helped me understand how our longstanding persistence in differentiating ourselves from animals are linked to the negative connotations of baser animal behavior, including sexual acts.

Of course, this isn’t meant to be a deep investigation of all the different ways the notions of our sexuality have been altered and influenced.  There are simply too many, and anyway this is all mostly just me thinking aloud and perhaps talking out of my ass (though I like to think even my ass can make educated guesses and hypotheses).  I won’t even touch on religion and politics.

As for me, I love rough, animalistic fucking, of course.  Teeth sinking into flesh, growling and snarling; I love using sex as a vehicle for channeling my inner animal.

Categories: links, memories, reflection, sex

Penis envy

June 22, 2010 Leave a comment

For as long as I have been sexually active, I’ve held a particular fascination for the male genitalia.  Even before I ever touched a penis, I would watch (bad, pixellated) clips of porn and wonder what it felt like for the guy to have sex.  I found it difficult to translate the stroking of a hand, penetration, or lips and tongue around the shaft, to what I felt while masturbating.  Did it feel the same?  Or similarly? I would wonder.  Do guys feel the same surges and sensitivity that I feel when I touch my clit, expanded over a larger surface area?

And once I did start having sex with a male partner, my curiosity just continued to grow.  I love hearing those sounds that lips, hands, and cunt can elicit from men.  I’m fascinated that I can make another person feel that way.  And I’ve always maintained a strong association between erection and power.  That admission probably makes me a very bad feminist, but I do find the erect penis to be an extremely powerful symbol.  I like the idea of being able to physically grasp at arousal – to feel it pulsing and hard and hot in my hand.  When I’m aroused, I’ve often wished I could grip onto my lust and desire as a physical object.

Despite all of this, I don’t own any strap-ons or even any realistic dildos.  I’ve certainly thought about it, but it doesn’t have quite the same appeal.  So for now I just deal with having, from time to time, a little penis envy.

Categories: fantasy, reflection, sex

Life update

April 29, 2010 Leave a comment

As April draws to a close, the tornado of activity that encompassed the last two weeks seems finally to be clearing.  After the three conferences, I immediately started packing all of my belongings, and over the weekend managed to move completely into the new apartment.  The couple of days after that have been filled with work during the day and helping my housemates move in during the evenings.  I love my new home, I love the new neighborhood, and I love my new housemates.

April has been the month of hectic but good changes.

Barely unpacked and having just installed a new bed in my room, I have to start packing once more, this time for a long weekend in Seattle.  The buildup of anticipation over the course of this week has been fairly deliriously heady, intertwined with flashes of memory of my last visit to Max.

Also, a couple weeks ago, a friend from college contacted me out of the blue and told me he was moving to San Francisco, having gotten a job here.  Said friend has now flown in and moved into a sublet in all of three days, and we got together for lunch yesterday.  And all of a sudden, I am struck by how few non-kinky friends I really have left, and I realized that I have to navigate with a little more thought and foresight around this one friend now.

The first flag came when he talked about where he was moving to – the Castro district – and he commented on “how many gays there were.”  I have a feeling he will be dealing with even greater a culture shock than I did when I moved here.  And as happy as I am to reconnect with a good friend from school, I have become so used to being open about my sexuality and kink that it’s going to be hard to censor myself around him.

Truthfully I have become rather spoiled – firstly by nature of being in San Francisco at all, secondly having both my employers be completely aware that I’m kinky, and thirdly now living in a very sexually open and kinky household.  It is easy in this environment to take that openness for granted, but my friend moving here is a good reminder that not everyone in my social circle will know and understand what the rope marks on my arms mean.

Perhaps this will be a good exercise in caution and awareness, because I cannot assume he will want to know about that part of my life, anyway.

In thinking of all of this, I cannot help but be reminded of my friend maymay and the recent attacks made against him by Citizens Against Human Trafficking.  Maymay, a strong sex-education advocate and organizer of the first KinkForAll, was labelled a “child molester” by Donna Hughes and Margaret Brooks for his belief that people of all ages should have access to sexual health and education.

Besides being blatant defamation, the newsletter (as well as subsequent ones, including one open letter to the president of Brown University) is specifically worded to incite rage and disgust and to sensationalize topics such as consensual BDSM and sexual health.  They take the concept of frank, open, and intelligent discussion on sexuality and its relationship to technology, culture, and society and twist it into an event open to sex offenders and children.

That this is happening back in New England, my childhood turf, is a sharp reminder of the conservative upbringing and society in which I was raised.  I am reminded of my high school, where safe spaces for LGBT students seemed like a radical new idea, though as far as I was aware no one was openly out.

Once again, I look at my current situation, living in a kinky queer apartment with amazing people, and it already seems like a foreign lifetime ago that I felt the need to hide my kinky interests, to myself and to others, out of feelings of guilt, fear, and shame.

I have never felt more relieved to have left the East Coast.

Categories: life lessons, links, reflection, sex

another archive round-up

February 28, 2010 Leave a comment

The last time I perused the archives, I focused on more fictional-type writing to dig out, in lieu of new reading material.  Right now I’ve got something new in mind, titled “intention,” but until I actually have the time to flesh it out, I’ve decided now is as good a time as any to pull up more writing from my archives.  This time around, the majority of the posts are inspired by actual occurrences – back in the distant past when I had a regular partner.  Rereading these posts brought back the memories as vividly as if they’d happened last week, and I was flooded with unexpected fondness and nostalgia.  The distance and time between these memories and my present life have allowed me to appreciate these moments without the tinge of bitterness with which I left each relationship.

There was, for instance, the delightful distraction M provided when he came to visit me over his break, despite my protestations otherwise.  I always loved the sleepy morning sex we often had when together – it really is the best alarm clock I could ever ask for.

Then there was this little plea for pain I wrote, back when I was first attempting the convert-the-less-kinky-partner-over-to-bdsm thing with M.  This was pretty significant; I was still hurting from Tim and dubious about what kink and power exchange had done to my well-being at the time, but I felt safe enough with M to start testing those waters again.

My little affair with frat boy SR was slightly less inspiring writing material, but there is this cute little moment we had together.  What’s a girl to do, indeed.

And finally: I was a little embarrassed to include this with the other fictional writing, but as much as it slightly mortifies me to have written something this ridiculous, rereading it still arouses me, and makes me laugh, so if nothing else it’ll hopefully insert a little humor into someone else’s day.

With that, I’m off to nurse aching arms from some pretty strenuous climbing as well as an afternoon lesson on throwing a person to the ground, Aikido-style.

Categories: life, links, love, memories, sex, writing

animal brain

February 24, 2010 1 comment

As is always the case this time of month, regardless of anything else that might be going on in my life, my animal brain has taken control, with its usual tinge of urgency and need.  It’s nothing I haven’t written about repeatedly before – it seems that, if nothing else, my menstrual cycle provokes an incessant need to write.

So tonight I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise in anticipation of a hungry mouth – of sharp teeth barely brushing against my nape.  I want to growl, to hiss, to scream, to grunt: to feel my voicebox thrumming with pleasure and with anguish, in equal measure.

Instead, instead, I am turning in early tonight in anticipation of early morning yoga.  I can only hope I will dream of running wild and naked under a cold, white moon, dry soft pine needles cushioning the soles of my feet.  Because that is the current, pit-of-my-stomach yearning of this animal brain; of this unbridled, chaotic heart.

Categories: fantasy, sex

October ’09

October 21, 2009 Leave a comment

October had been a busy busy month indeed, and there are still 10 more days left!  I’m really excited to celebrate Halloween in San Francisco, although I still have no clue what my costume will be.  And, to be honest, I am neither much of a party-er nor a trick-or-treater.  But I love the holiday nonetheless.  It will be weird to celebrate it in an area where the change in seasons is not as distinct, and there is none of the bite of upcoming frost in the wind, nor the crisp, spicy scent of apple, cinnamon, and pumpkin.

I guess I am just a little nostalgic.  In any case, I’ve had quite a month: battling the flu for a week, having my car broken into (and, once I got the car cleaned up, I discovered the GPS cord hadn’t been taken at all, just flung into the backseat),  starting to work morning shifts at Wicked Grounds, attending a Tom Petty cover band concert, spending the weekend with T, shoe-shopping, and attending the monthly rope peer workshop at Edges.  I seem to be spending very little time at home.

I’m not complaining.  It makes the time I do spend at home all the more valuable and appreciable.

So, let’s see.  I think the real highlight was spending this past weekend in San José with T and 3 of his other lady friends and sometimes play partners.  I went as his pet again, complete with the same collar I wore for our IKEA outing.  It was quite fun!  I met T after my work shift at the café, and we drove to Edges for a kinky yard sale/swap.  I found a couple of old books for free, including one dictionary and atlas from 1939.  T bought a ball gag from the table across from us, complete with alternate gags and attachments, which he insisted I try out.

Afterward we met up with the others for dinner and the concert.  I thoroughly enjoyed the company I was with, as well as the concert, though by the time it finished at 1am, I was pretty well spent.  I think even T was pretty tired, because after we’d dropped everyone else off and gone home, we went to bed after I gave him a brief foot rub.  I luckily got to sleep on the guest bed, albeit with my ankle chained to it.  It’s a very curious feeling and did wake me up a few times throughout the night, as I would move my foot and cause the chain to rustle around and sometimes slide against my other leg.

Sunday…ah, Sunday.  The morning was rather a delirious blur of orgasm after orgasm.  I was fucked into a mindless puddle with a metal dildo that has a large rounded ball at one end.  It was painful going in, but my God did I want to keep it in.  It got to the point where he was more or less forcing orgasms out of me with the dildo and his fingers.  Complete sensory overload.

And then we showered and it was time to go help a friend of his unload a truckload of furniture and belongings into a storage unit.

Then Monday I drove down again to go shoe-shopping with a mutual friend of T’s – I’m going to call her Jewel – and we managed to spend 3 hours in two stores trying on shoes.  I finally decided on two pairs of fairly tall high heels, which is a little ambitious given my inexperience with heels.  But after the post-Folsom dinner I attended with Max – in a restaurant with business casual dress code, and where I wore a more formal dress but only had my black Teva flip flops to wear with it – I decided I really did need at least one pair of decent heels for the occasional formal event.  Considering I never went to any formal events at college (I was more or less a social recluse), I’d never previously felt the need to own nice shoes.

Then Tuesday was the monthly rope peer workshop at Edges, which is always a good time.  I got to tie a couple people up, and everyone had fun doing microbondage with twine, yarn, string, and crochet hooks.  I also wore one of the shoes I’d bought the day before.  By the end of the night my feet were definitely throbbing, but it was fun clopping around in them for the evening.  And I even got treated to a foot rub by T when we went back to his place!  More rope play ensued, and some foot play as well.

Needless to say, I went to work this morning with lots of rope blisters.  But considering my current place of employment also sells bondage rope, I was not quite as worried about the marks showing.

And then there’s this upcoming weekend.  Jewel invited a bunch of people to a comedian’s show this Friday and has planned afterward to have a big slumber party at T’s place.  Yes, I have actually regressed 15 years at the thought.  I am thoroughly enjoying this mental picture I have of a bunch of giggling girls surrounding one hapless guy (yeah right).  Who doesn’t love a sleepover?

Sometimes, sometimes, I sit back a little, review these events and relationships I have become a part of, and wonder: Is this really my life?  How did a person like me end up so…happy?

Categories: life, sex, submission, sundry