pantryslut: (leather girls)
All the adult copy I'm currently writing for pay has me thinking about that ubiquitous vibrating egg fantasy I kept encountering at FriendFinder (and elsewhere). You know, the one where a remote-control vibe in the pussy brought women to their knees with pleasure, all at the touch of a button. So many different men, all with the same fantasy (and ignorance/wishful thinking about the anatomy of female sexual pleasure, but that's par for the course).

I really should write a story where someone tries to do that with the protagonist, who is merely annoyed at the incessant distracting buzzing and finally slips into the bathroom to drop the egg down the toilet. Shenanigans ensue etc.
pantryslut: (leather girls)
Asking people to preemptively police their speech about any and all kink topics using the rubric of consent, and especially acting as if talking about a scene is the same as *doing* a scene, is uncomfortably close for me to the sorts of arguments that ask people to stay in the closet, please, we don't mind queers as long as they're not so *obvious* about it.

Not that I am so keen on the "everyone observing an actual scene must consent" standard, either (she said understatedly). But extending that to just talking about it, too? Alarm bells, big and loud.

I know I've said this before. I will keep saying it until my tongue falls out. It's that important.

(And while I'm here, I will note in passing the link to spoilers and triggers and all that good stuff that drives me up the wall, too. And reiterate a point someone else made in the place that inspired this post: it is always, always, always OK to say "I am uncomfortable with this conversation" or the equivalent. What is to be done after that point depends a lot on the particular circumstances. Context counts.)
pantryslut: (leather girls)
The more time I spend on FetLife, the more I begin to revert to my idea that (despite any play or publishing or other professional or volunteer credits to the contrary) I'm not a member of the 'scene,' I just really like rough sex.

And spanking people.

And knives.

And...oh, forget it. But you know what I mean.
pantryslut: (work)
My job is such a learning experience!

For example, I just discovered that there is a chastity device called "Lori's Tube." (here, if you're curious.) No, it's not named after me! I just want to state that for the record...
pantryslut: (safewurd)
Someday, I will work up enough dudgeon to launch a proper devastating critique of the term "alpha male" (and similar usages, including but not limited to "alpha female"). For now, though, I will just mention that if someone uses it as a descriptor of their role in BDSM, I immediately mentally chalk them off the list of people worthwhile talking to, much less playing with.
pantryslut: (work)
I just had a mini-meltdown at work over the capitalization preferences of certain BDSM practitioners.

Specifically:

a) The preference for Dom/sub versus Dom/Sub;

b) The fondness for constructions such as "W/we," "O/our," etc.

I finally just started ranting along these lines:

"Those uppity submissives should just stop asserting their independence and allow themselves to be subsumed under the capital letter of their Dominant, already!"

Yeah. OK. Maybe it's time for a break.
pantryslut: (work)
Someday, I am going to write a long essay on the trope of the vibrating egg in BDSM fiction. (That would be the egg-shaped insertable vibrator, remote-control-wise). They sure do make the women go weak-kneed in the stories I read. And all that without any direct clitoral stimulation at all!

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