Mar 092009
 

ispank-2

I don’t have an iPhone. I’m not connected with this company and I’m not making any money off of this.

 

But I find it terribly delightful that iPhone has a kinky app.

 

From their site:

  

Need to keep your minions in line? Have an unruly co-worker that you’ve always wanted to smack with a frying pan? Looking for something fun to break the ice and start a conversation? If so, iSpank is for you.

Whether at school, in the office or on the dance floor, there’s always a need for discipline – and iSpank puts the power in your hands. Use it as a prank or just to get a quick laugh. Choose from an array of spanking toys such as a paddle, a whip, a bottle – yes, even a chicken. Each ispank3toy makes its own funny noise sure to turn heads and grab attention.

To spank, simply swing the iPhone (or iPod Touch) towards your target and flick your wrist. Be sure to hold on – you may be laughing too hard to keep a good grip.

The Deluxe version includes the awesomely fun Spank-o-meter which measures the strength of your swing strongman style. Compare your swing with your friends. Who spanks the hardest? It’s loads of fun!

 I was at a  show on Friday and after playing catch up with some fellow pervs, I mentioned that I’d just found out about this app and wondered aloud if anyone had in iPhone so we could test it. Within minutes a woman behind me was cracking a virtual whip over my head and we passed it around, giggling like fucking maniacs at the little screenshots and envious that, as a member of the iLess unwashed hoi polloi,  we couldn’t irritate friends and co-workers with this crazy fucking app.

 

But you can.

I’ll upgrade to an iPhone when they make an “Aftercare App” that brings me virtual chocolate and tells me what a good girl I am, and how beautiful is my agony.

Oct 252008
 

I often felt kinda guilty about the raw nasty sex I used to foist upon my dolls as a kid. Did you know that the original Star Trek play-set was smartly fitted with a “working transporter” had the capacity for 2 figures if you 69ed them? No, no you didn’t!

Lego your ego and SUBMIT.

Lego your ego and SUBMIT.

Yeah, Barbie got it from Kirk too. Ken wasn’t my style. But mostly Captain J. Tiberius Kirk was all for Lt. Uhura. After The Kiss That Changed Television, all I wanted to do was grow up to be a switchboard operator wear a short skirt and glance in surreptitious longing at the shiny boots of the Captain of the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701.

Oct 092008
 

I will blatantly pimp today.

I have been a pervert for a long time.   My High School boyfriend and I liberally applied handcuffs and hogties in the bedroom. Back then, it was pilfered clothesline from his Mom’s laundry supplies. That very first relationship was, for a while, a triad.  Yeah, I had it goin’ on, even back in the day when a date meant going to see Under The Cherry Moon and sneaking into Nell‘s with our fake IDs.

I hit the online milieu back in the late 90s, and never looked back.

There are many, many sites on the intertubes where perverts can go lounge around in virtual splendor. From Gorean chat-rooms where red-silk kajira kneel & serve & hump their slave heats all over cups of paga, to FurCon discussion boards, there is something for everyone.

Before you start capping on the Furries, know that I find them adorable.

Before you start capping on the Furries, know that I find them adorable.

There also are eleventy billion people profiting obscenely over the deluge of obscenity. Lots of companies make a shitload of money catering to the kinks and funneling off the wallets of the perverati.

I should know. I work for the biggest.

Working for a huge ass company for whom your personal, precious perversion is merely an exploitable demographic is, to say the least, mentally discombobulating. I feel a bit like a turncoat triple agent pervy mole.

But at least I get to watch men putting huge things up their asses first thing in the morning.

You gain some, you lose some.

When I started my new job Editing and wrangling content for 2 ALTernative, fetish and Bondage sites, I was a somewhat nonplussed because I had a long history on one site. I’d been blogging there for several years, it was my Very Fist Blog, and now here I was through the looking glass!

Except on this side of the looking glass there aren’t very fucking many perverts.

A few weeks ago, I was in a conference call trying to disabuse several people of the notion that giving out site-branded flyswatters at the Folsom Street Fair was NOT going to provoke confusion. Non-con smacks, possibly. Cluelessness as to their intended use? No, not really.

So where does a Perverted Negress go when she wants to perv out and NOT have it be a site owned by The Man?

FetLife, that’s where.

It is the best game going, in my Not At All Humble Opinion.

The dude that runs it, John Baku, has a bunch of pervs running a tight ship. The site is free. The discussion are lively. Unlike some places-I-could-name-but-won’t, you can hotlink to whatever the fuck your nasty, sick, deviant heart desires from anywhere on the site. Further ingratiating me to it,  John gives no  leeway to people posting stupid ass blinky sparkly shit all over the site. It will never be FuckSpaced into horror.

MOST critically, it is privately owned and operated by kinksters.

And Mr. Baku says he won’t let that change.

Fuck yeah.

I hope so.

I dig his site. Oooo, and watch this, biotechs! I even support it financially.

If you happen to be on FetLife, and can hold off on a latte for a goddamned day, donate $5. If you can skimp back on a couple of dinners out, donate $60.00, Hell, iffen you ain’t a member, just donate in the name of the RNC Memorial Pervert Fund.

With that donation, you get a dope little banner on your profile, and as well, you have the happy warm fuzzy of knowing you put your money where your fuckin’ mouth is. And therefore can feel justified when you start ranting on the FetLife Rant Forum about how frustrating it is that you can’t reply to threads and e-mal from yer mobile phone.

When someone takes the time to build a resource by perverts for perverts and it is bloody fucking well done, give it up!

Plus, today I got two notes from two sexeh men with accents on FetLife, so mad props for bringing me today’s “LDR Fantasy Dom & Wank Fodder”! W00t!

Oct 082008
 

I fucking love vanilla ice cream. It is my favorite flavor. And by ice cream I mean frozen yogurt as I am violently lactose intolerant. I love frozen vanilla yogurt.

There. I’ve said it!

Vanilla pudding, vanilla cake….when I was a kid, I used to love adding a capfull of vanilla flavoring to my milk.

Vanilla is a rich complex flavor. Aside from saffron, I don’t think there is any more expensive spice around.

How then did the term become a snarkysnide put-down among the Alternative Community cognoscenti?

Oh yeah, it is.

You might not even know this, but somewhere, in a Dungeon near you, some pervert is probably cracking wise about how sorry they are for “Vanillas”, since they’ll never ever know how much more wonderful, awesome and more betterer it is to be kinky.

“Vanilla” is a term commonly used to convey the idea is that your straight-up missionary style un-creative sex is “vanilla” and, by definition, boring, uninspired, and not awesome.
Delicate, Tremblig Flower of Vanillaness.

Delicate, Trembling Flower of Vanillaness.

Maybe.

Sure.

Whatev.

Some of the best sex I’ve had has been in the dark, in the missionary position, and heterosexually oriented.

This does nothing to compromise the spontaneous orgasms I have experienced while being suspended and beaten with floggers and canes.

Sex: it are a smorgasbord, and I enjoy sampling everything from pad-thai to pierogis.

Where I get less thrilled is when the pejorative slant comes in.

BDSM people will often have a defensive “Us vs. Them” approach, not uncommon to many marginalized or special-interest communities. Some dyed-in-the-faux-fur-Burners tag those who are less-hardcore-than-they as “civilians”, for example. It can be protective, as in “Let’s help those civilians in the next camp with their shade cover!” or it can be less so, as in “I am so tired of these fucking civilians treating the fucking Burn like a fucking frat party!”

It does not rankle me to apply the label of “vanilla” to a sex act, a flavor of cupcake, or porn. It DOES bug me to apply it to people, and it REALLY chafes my pawpaw when it is derisive.

See folks, you don’t know what the hell your co-worker is up to in their bedroom!

Your uptight pain-in-the-ass Project Manager might be a closet scat-fiend sploshing Anthro pig. You just wouldn’t know it, because he maybe considers his sex life private. And your Admin COULD be an Empress in the Other World Kingdom. And, as happened to me, your Sales Guy could be a former International Mr. Drummer. But it did not come up in conversation until he spotted me flagging a bondage ring!

People in the public community all have one thing in common: they are comfortable with a degree of publicity and advertising about their sexual deviance.

That doesn’t make you special. It makes you a bit of an exhibitionist. Or perhaps a huge attention whore. *cough*. But I fail to see how it gives you the right to assume anything about anyone else’s fuck-lives.

If you need a way to separate yourself from the mainstream, how about leaving it to people to decide for themselves where that breakaway occurs?

When referring to people who:

· are not publicly involved in leather.

· have not declared their sexual preferences to me.

· are my Mom.

I call ‘em “Non Kink-Identified”.

That leaves them room to identify as such IF THEY FEEL LIKE IT.

That removes the pejorative sheen from the dialogue, and leaves us open to find our commonality.

That lets us dialogue with anyone, without prejudice or arrogance.

That lets them explore a dialogue with you rather than feel defensive about your labeling them “boring” and “unenlightened”

And that puts you in a better position to educate, illuminate and, ultimately, seduce them to The Dark Side.

Whaddya think? Pervs? And NKI peeps: DOES it rankle you to be so labeled?