On a blustery Friday afternoon not too long ago at all, some of the AoS delegates convened at a coffee shop for some hot beverages and scintillating conversation. The discussion turned to the question of whether or not one can tire of kink (be it personally, professionally, or both). We can probably all recall when BDSM was still a new-fangled, glittering fortress full of those bookcases that are actually secret passageways. Or, to kill the metaphor, I’m sure it’s not difficult for you to recall a time when every spank and slap administered was a thrill, something new and exhilarating in both its novelty and sensation of perversity. Maybe you discovered that scenarios and implements you never thought would turn you on, in fact did. Your ecstasy reached great heights. The feeling of exploring boundaries and fulfilling fantasies with beloved partners both old and new was unparalleled.read more
Ah, it’s that time of year again. The feasting, the merry songs, the gift-giving… the interrogations. We all know how little there can be to discuss with relatives you only see on the most special of occasions, so it isn’t altogether surprising when your elders swoop in with a line of questioning focused on your career path. Mercifully, the only two winter holidays I [vaguely] celebrate – Thanksgiving and Hanukkah – overlapped this time around, so all the family nonsense was at least condensed. My relatives generally fancy themselves to be a pretty liberal, open-minded clan; nevertheless, I think they would have preferred if my response to their innocent “so what are you doing these days?” query was a little more banal and relatable.read more
As with any BDSM advocate and provider, I like to think I always practice and support SSC play (safe, sane and consensual). The reality is I made a mistake last week. While under my watch, I let a friend be violated. While it may not be enough to scream bloody rape, any small lapse in SSC play can cause a resounding echo of pain through the soul. And I watched it happen and did nothing.read more
Well, it happened. I have the ruler marks on my ass to prove it. It’s now more than a week later, and I’m still not completely sure how I feel about my training session. I wish I had a conclusive epiphany to report, but no such luck.
If all goes according to plan, I will have my first training session this week. As the date of this event looms nearer, I find myself besieged by concerns of varying relevance and importance.