The End. The Flap. The Interview.

Good morning, my freaky darling. My kinky miscreants.

I have some good news, and some bad news. The good news is, I’m doing an interview! With SJ! The bad news is, this’ll be the last blog post. The good news: There’ll be a new one! You see, the Just Adult Blog site is almost up and running, so we’ll be doing the blogging thing on that site instead. This will mean a whole new blog, a new name, new writers, new content. We’re doing this because the Just-Kinky site is almost ready to open again, and will have a new logo, just as the JE will have a new theme and logo. Not only this, but the story site will be taking new submissions and publishing them. We’re also currently half way through transferring all the old stories, and we’ll be finished with that at some point in the near future. So, really, this blog can’t do all of that justice, and thus the move over to the JAB site. And, remember, that for all these sites you only have to register one, and that one log in will work for all three sites.

Throughout my time on this blog I have worked hard to avoid doing one thing, something I view as quite heinous. I’ve attempted to avoid nepotism. I’ve strived to be as neutral as possible, and I think I’ve succeeded (apart from a time or two where it was suggested to me that I do a post that allows me to divulge my nepotistic side). This post, however, is very special, and I thought I’d give in and just embrace it. So this post is dedicated to my wonderful SJ, author of the blog SJ’s Journey. I was lucky enough to sit down with her for an interview, where we talk about her blog. So, without further ado, here it is, smilies and all.

JV: Okay, well, let me start with the first question (because it’d be wholly revolutionary to start with the second question). Are you wearing any panties?

SJ: Ha! At this precise moment? No, I’m not. First thing I did after walking home was change, and the panties were discarded with quite a gleeful flourish. It was hot, you know.
JV: *Checks* I’m afraid it feels quite hot, down there.

SJ: The weather, I mean. You know, summer.

JV: *Looks outside, at the overcast sky and wind-blown tree* Yes. Summer. Ahem. So, let’s start (for the second time) with a bit of history. How did you get into blogging?

SJ: Oh. Goodness that requires some remembering. Well, I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, and posting stories and poems to websites for … 7 years or so, I guess. A few years ago I was a regular visitor to an erotic blog written by a British fellow, and I used to correspond with him quite a lot and discuss his blog. That was when I had my first thoughts of trying my own blog, but I was far too much a scaredy cat to make it happen.
JV: So what changed?
SJ: Jules. She’s a bossy fuckin’ thing, isn’t she? The idea was always in the back of my mind, and after a while Jules brought it to the front again.
JV: Ah, yes. I’m reminded of another time she brought something else to the forefront.
SJ: *Raises eyebrow*
JV: Your tush picture.
SJ: Ah. Yes. I remember that.
JV: Hard not to. I remember her plugging your bum on the JK forum.
SJ: I remember that too. Damned position. Position? Damned television making me write position when I meant petition.

JV: Maybe you should turn over to a less subliminally suggestive TV channel.

SJ: No. 😀
JV: :P. [Back on the topic of blogging] My understanding is that you were hesitant to do it. Could you elaborate on your thoughts, feelings on the matter?
SJ: Fear of commitment. Starting a blog would mean being committed to producing a piece of writing to publish regularly. And not only something to publish, something GOOD to publish. Something interesting, thought-provoking, or erection inducing. Part of me worried that I might expose myself as a terrible writing fraud, with cliché ideas that dried up after a few weeks.
JV: You didn’t, though.
SJ: I didn’t. I still have the same fear though. Every time a post something new I fly into a mild panic about how it may be received and whether it’s good enough. I don’t want to post for the sake of it, or bombard people all the time with stuff they don’t care about. I don’t want to be that person. So I still worry that I may become boring to people, even though I try very hard not to!
JV: Trust me, you succeeded. Something you said intrigued me: ‘or bombard people all the time with stuff they don’t care about’. Surely the advantage of a blog is that you can write about what you care about, regardless of what your readers think?
SJ: Definitely. The first person you should write for is you, I firmly believe that. However, if you take that writing to a public forum, and ask people to read it, then you do need to consider them. Once you take it to that forum, you are in part writing for an audience. If it were solely for your own pleasure, your private journal would suffice, no? 🙂
JV: Indeed. Let’s talk about content. You do stories, poems, talk about your own personal life, and do toy reviews.
SJ: I do yes I do!
JV: What is it you enjoy writing (about) the most? Do you have preferences?
SJ: Well, the research leading up to toy reviews is especially enjoyable …
JV: I’ll bet. Actually, since I’m sometimes privy to the research, I can vouch for that.
SJ: *Blushes* I like when you help me research.

JV: As do I 😉 

SJ: But the writing that I enjoy the most, just for writing, I’d have to say stories.

JV Howzat?
SJ: Stories are something different. They take on a life of their own, and I find myself immersed within them as I write. There’s this wonderful air of mystery, because I don’t really know where they’re going, or who my characters will be. It’s exciting to find that out.
JV: Tell me about your current story.
SJ: Oh, I couldn’t possibly. It’s a secret. *Shifty eyes.*
JV: *Pouts*
SJ: *Kisses your pouting lips* Top secret. National security, you understand.
JV: Well, could you at least give me a brief summary of what has transpired in this series of stories so far? Explain – as much as you can – what it is?
SJ: The Confessions series?
JV: Yes.
SJ: It’s a series of short stories following the personal life of a young woman who prefers casual relationships over long term committed ones. She’s a busy woman, she hasn’t the time, energy or inclination to commit to a relationship, but she’s also a very sexual person and unwilling to ignore those needs.

There’s a mix of fiction, fantasy, and my own experiences within the stories and within the main character, which I am having a lot of fun with. I’m using her, and her way of living to explore sexuality in society- what’s acceptable and what’s not, why that differs for certain people in society and how our choices affect us. At the beginning, she’s not a very sympathetic character, but as I write more, we begin to see more than just her sexual practices, and understand her a little more. I hope. That’s the plan anyway. And, of course, it’s about hot steamy sex. ‘Cause I like the hot and steamy sex. Very much. Ummm. Have I bored you to sleep?

JV: 🙂 Nope. I’m here. Wide awake. Surfing eBay, but wide awake.
SJ: lol

JV: I want to discuss your sex toy reviews, because that’s a relatively new thing.
SJ: Mmm-hmmm.
JV: I was hoping for more than Mmm-hmmm.
SJ: *Giggle* Is it new? I can’t remember when I posted my first one.
JV: The first was Ina.
SJ: Ah, sweet Ina. She’s a keeper.
JV: She is indeed. How did you start? Maybe a better question would be why did you start?
SJ: I think I sort of fell into it. I was finally rebuilding my toy collection after an ex threw my stuff out in a fit of anger a long while before, and I was really very excited to be doing so. I always enjoyed toys, though I lamented the fact many of them were not very nice to look at, or seemed … tacky. So when I ordered Ina, one of the first building blocks in my new collection, I was thrilled. She was a toy that was special; sleek and beautiful with great features to boot. I wanted to shout it to the world, that I had discovered what sex toys for women should be. Also, I wanted to brag: Ha ha! Look what I have! Weeeeee!
JV: *Snorts* I may discard that long paragraph, in favour of that last bit. Just so you know.

SJ: Ha ha.
JV: What? It’s more you.
SJ: Guess so.
JV: And things just kind of snowballed. Ina good way.
SJ: *Snigger* Yes, they did. I started doing a review for every new thing I got. It was fun! And people seemed to be interested, because they not only got all the techy details but an idea of the more … personal side of a toy review. Plus, I had an excuse to have more orgasms. Woo!
JV: *Shakes head, smiling* And then you did some for EF [EdenFantasys], too.
SJ: Yes, and another company too. I danced all about the house singing (badly) about how wonderful I am.
JV: Go on.
SJ: Free toys. Did you hear me? Free. Toys. FREE FRICKING TOYS! They were going to give me a toy, for FREE and all I had to do was what I had been doing all along anyway, and throw in a few links to their site. And the toys were free. Make a note of that.
JV: *Makes a note*
SJ: Essentially they sent me a list of products, I selected three or so, and they would send me one of those three to write about.
JV: This is EF or the other site you’re talking about?
SJ: The other site. But then EF got in on the act too. I was a bit of a slut, whoring my blog out to any company willing to give me free toys.
JV: Well, who can blame you? They’re free toys, after all.
SJ: FREE! And all mine! Mine! Mwahahahahahahhah
JV: 😀
SJ: I enjoy doing the reviews, and it seems people enjoy reading them. I’ll do them until I bore of it … which I cannot see happening in the near future. I’m going to investigate buying my domain name, so I can be free to run my blog as I please.
JV: That’s a very good idea. Do you have much to tell about that, or is it more a case of vague unformed (as yet) ideas?
SJ: Let’s just say I am researching my options and considering what I can to do improve my blog. I am of course open to ideas.
JV: And open to other things, too?
SJ: Oh yes, yes indeed.
JV: Good. What about in the future? Are you looking forward to any toys coming your way?
SJ: Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes! Oh gee golly whiz hell yes!
JV: I think that means you’re excited.
SJ: On December 28th I placed an order as a Christmas present to me. By some miracle I had money left over at the end of my pay period, and so I promptly set about looking at ways to spend it. A few days earlier I had spotted a new toy by a company I had not heard of. I fell in love .. so much so I actually dreamt of it that night. I also spotted a second toy that looked quite marvellous, so I bookmarked them, because I first wanted to ask a certain someone’s opinion …
JV: Oh? Whose?
SJ: My imaginary friend Freddy.
JV: Ah, yes. Freddy. I’ve seen him about, hanging out with Charlie the imaginary ghost.
SJ: Anyhoozelbees, they are in transit and I am giddy with excitement. I am hopeful for them to be here tomorrow, but definitely by end of week. If not, I shall be complaining loudly.
JV: (Yay!) I’m looking forward to reading about them. And seeing you play with them. [Post-interview edit: the toys have arrived, so you can look forward to some colourful reviews, readers!] In your blog you talk about, well, you. Do you have a problem with sharing some aspects of your life? Be they the sexual bits, or the non-sexual personal bits?
SJ: When I started the blog I had every intention of being completely open and honest and writing everything I felt like. I was excited about the freedom anonymity gave me. But it hasn’t turned out like that. I’m not anonymous, not really. A lot of my readers are people I have chatted to online for a long time, and there are several of whom I know in ‘real life’. And to be quite honest, even if I had perfect anonymity, I think I would still hold back the more personal things. It’s not me to throw it all out there, to lay myself bare. There are pieces of me, little bits of my soul in my blog because they are in my writing and I cannot avoid that. but for the most part I guard it, much like in the outside world.
JV: I can understand that. Do you think you ever could let go? Let your guard down?
SJ: On my blog? A little at a time. When I post a poem, that tends to be very unguarded. I think I am more likely to reveal myself in stories and poems than in a blog post talking to my readers.
JV: Fascinating. Why are you unguarded in poems? What is it about them that gives you that chance? Or do you choose to be so in poems specifically?
SJ: Poetry is not a choice for me. I bottle things up, that’s how I was raised. We do not show emotion, SJ, and most certainly not in public. Keep it to yourself. My poetry is the result of bottling one too many things.
JV Go on.
SJ: Poetry is that moment when what I am feeling, or what I have refused to feel, takes over. It’s not a thought process, the way stories are. There’s no going back to re-write or edit, I don’t stop and re-read constantly. It flows from me … quite often it feels like it is ripped from me, if the emotion is particularly strong … and writing it releases me from the hold that feeling has on me. Does that make sense?
JV: It does. And thank you for speaking so openly about it.
SJ: Ahem. You’re welcome.

JV: What else, if you have anything planned, can we look forward to from your blog?

SJ: A ‘lift the flap’ edition! Not really. But I do love ‘lift the flap’ books, and the term could be amusingly dirty on my blog.
JV: *Rolls eyes*
SJ: Except computer screens, they no have the flaps, you see?
JV: Well, you can get an accessory for iPads that offer you a flap.
SJ: My blog is not an iPad. I’ve been pondering what I might try next on my blog, but to be quite honest I can’t stop thinking about that package [sitting on the bed, as I edit this, being a numpty, causing troubles with the adapter and chargers – but there’ll be a blog about that from SJ, soon], and the fun I shall have in opening it and reviewing the things inside! I do have some new stories coming up, too, and I am hopeful of perhaps getting a guest poster, just for fun. 🙂
JV: Oh? Do you have anyone in mind for this guest poster?
SJ: Perhaps I do.
JV: Can you tell me?
SJ: No! Is a secret.
JV: 😦 Is it someone I know?
SJ: 🙂 It may be.
JV: Gah! I want to know!
SJ: *Chuckles mischievously*
JV: You’re mean!
SJ: I know.
JV: Hmph.

And this concludes the interview. I’d like to thank my dear, lovely, sublime SJ for taking the time to answer my rather mundane questions with riveting answers.

That’s it, it’s over now. I hope you enjoyed the interview, and the blog as a whole.

This is JV – signing off.

Subspace – The Final Frontier

Good morning, my kinky bedfellows!

I’d like to share with you something that happened to me, the other day. And by ‘the other day’ I mean an indeterminate time over a week ago. I like to keep my posts current, you know. This happening can actually be read about in my darling SJ’s blog, SJ’s Journey. I’d highly recommend you read it (not just because she’s boinking my brains out), but I’ll also give you the gist on here. For word count purposes, you understand. What happened was that we were playing with a new toy, and introduced an old toy into the mix (the two, I should note, got on like a house on fire. They’re to be married), and after her climax, my darling girl started crying. This was cause for great concern for both of us, as SJ is not typically one who cries. After, we sat there, on our respective beds, wondering just what in the blue hell had happened. I worried, for a split second, that the cam that had been acting up during the session had turned on and shown her my orgasm face, and that made her cry. Or it may have been that her computer has been updated with smellovision, and she could smell my garlic breath.

It could be all these things, but one idea that she came up with to explain it was that she had entered her headspace, called subspace. When she brought this theory to me, I felt immediately that it made sense, that it fit the events. And then I immediately forgot what subspace means. And voila! I have my next blog post subject! So I thought I’d do a little post on what exactly is subspace, in the hopes of enlightening those of you who don’t, as well as myself re-learning what it means.

Simply put, subspace is a psychological state in which subs enter after an act, or series of acts, which are mentally and/or physically straining. This could be anything from an excess of pleasure, or pain, or the committing of acts which make the sub feel emotionally bare – but that’s a thing which is specific to the person, and so I can’t altogether elaborate on here what they may be. What happens next is quite fascinating.  These intense experiences then cause a chemical response, which enables greater pain tolerance, which means the acts can then become more intense. It’s an ongoing circle, and the Dom/me must keep a close eye on things, otherwise things can get very messy. And not in the fun way. These chemicals can cause a trance-like state in which the sub feels detached from reality, their own body, and their environment.

Afterwards, as they come down from this high, something called Deep Subspace can kick in, where they become incoherent, deeply exhausted and recessive. Thank you, wikipedia. It should also be noted that sometimes the trance like state is bypassed completely, and subs enter this state instead. And, indeed, Deep Subspace can have no presence at all. Though I view this instance as rare.

At all times, care must be taken by the Dom/me. Rather, I should say that extra care should be taken, since a Dom/me is probably already keeping tabs on their sub, but this is a situation which could end badly. Luckily, the situation my SJ and I found ourselves in was handled well (if I do say so myself) so things turned out well for us. Without proper aftercare – in the form of emotional support, comfort, reassurance and physical tenderness – though, things might get out of hand, and acute mental pain and emotional scarring can be inflicted. Though those are extreme cases, and not likely to happen.

This particular event did cause us great concern, but it also brought us closer, in a way. It seemed to signal that our relationship was entering a new level. A greater bond of trust and openness was afforded us. Now, I have a little treat for you all. As I showed this to SJ, she asked me if I’d like it if she wrote a little bit, to explain her reaction. I jumped at the opportunity, for obvious reasons. Here’s what she had to say:

In the moments before the leakage from my eyes, I was consumed by the feeling of being stripped bare. Raw, exposed and vulnerable to a point I had never been before. If not for the intense pleasure I was feeling I would say I felt broken, and perhaps in a way I was. It scared me at first, and embarrassed me. It was the next day I recognised it for what it might be.

Very intriguing, and my thanks to her. And so much more well iterated, since she’s able to actually experience it, and for me it’s merely an intellectual study. Well, I’ve run out of things to say. I could maybe make a joke. But I think I’ve conveyed as much information as I’m able to, on this particular matter. I can only hope that people who didn’t know about this before come away from reading this enlightened, and that those who already knew about subspace don’t come away from this writing long emails correcting me.

This is JV – signing off.

If you have any thoughts on this post, feel free to post a comment, or join the JE to have your say! If you have a topic you think is worth covering, then you can leave a comment here, or on the JE, too. Basically what I’m trying to say is: join the JE!

Happy New Years!

Happy New Years!

That’s all I really have to say! Well, I was thinking about one that discusses just what exactly is Subspace, and wondering, since a Swiss company is making small condoms for teenagers, just how young is too young? And should I have really shaved my nether regions, so that my cock looks like a clock (it’s always 12 o’clock now)? But I realised that it’s New Years. Nobody probably wants to read about shaving disasters, or crude jokes, at this time of year, where you have a little time off to yourself (ironic, isn’t it, that when you have time off, you probably don’t want to waste it reading this?), and can go shopping for bargains. Spend time with your family. Torture your loved one with teasing kisses and slipping ice cubes into their vagina. Maybe that’s just me. No, actually. I’m sure other people would want to do that, too. It’s quite popular. I hear there’s a whole sport around it. So I’ve decided to keep it short.

So I say again: Happy New Years! I hope everything goes splendidly for each and every one of you!

An Old Rubber Mouse

Hello one and all!

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Yule, Happy Kwanzaa and happy Holidays!

It’s the Christmas time again and, whatever you celebrate (or don’t), it’s a time of giving, of family, of joy, and most of all: presents!

Now, don’t worry; I’ll keep this short and sweet. I know you’re all busy and I don’t want to keep you too long. So I’ll just give you a quick JE update: We have a new feature! It’s called The Honey Pot, and, according to the blurb, it’s an online erotic magazine style blog, where any member can post content, like blog excerpts, snippets of stories, pictures, news or anything you think noteworthy, and it’ll be published on the front page. It can be found here

Now, then! Last year I posted a poem for the Christmas post. This year, I’ll do the same. Before I do so, I should point out that they’re not written by my hand, but I don’t know who originally wrote them. They’re just ones that I’ve known for a long time. Now …

May your holidays
Be happy days,
Filled with love
And laughter.

And may each day
Bring joy your way,
In the year
That follows after!

Last year, I posted The Night Before Christmas. This year I’ll post a slightly different version:

A Puppy’s Christmas

It’s the day before Christmas
And all through the house
The puppies are squeaking
An old rubber mouse.

The wreath which had merrily
Hung on the door
Is scattered in pieces
All over the floor.

The stockings that hung
In a neat little row
Now boast a hole in
Each one of the toes.

The tree was subjected
To bright-eyed whims,
And now, although splendid,
It’s missing some limbs.

I catch them and hold them.
“Be good”, I insist.
They lick me, then run off
To see what they’ve missed.

And now as I watch them
The thought comes to me,
That theirs is the spirit
That Christmas should be.

Should children and puppies
Yet show us the way,
And teach us the joy
That should come with this day?

Could they bring the message
That’s written above,
And tell us that, most of all
Christmas is love.

That’s it for this week! I hope you the very best of days!

This is JV – signing off.

Bald Headed Neanderthals

Hello! Good evening, good morning and goodnight!

Yes, my kinky bedfellows, today I continue on with the topic of sexual trends, and trends to make you more sexually attractive. Although, if you’ve read the last blog, then you’ll know how I feel on vajazzling, and that I don’t really consider it making you sexually attractive. In the last post, I discussed waxing, so it seems only natural to talk about hair removal in general.

Again, I have to go back to 30,000 BC. You’d think that, since it was the middle of the ice age, it would be fashionable to keep as much hair as possible, since it would keep them warm, but no. The need to make ourselves sexually desirable has won out over the need to keep ourselves alive has been going on for thousands of years. It’s a wonder we’re still here! Though I suppose with all that fucking then of course some of us would survive. And it makes me happier. Now, when I tell people that one of the things on my bucket list is to go to the south pole and prance about naked, I can say it’s just in my nature. Back then we men used our flint multitools. Gillette disposables hadn’t been invented yet. Women, however, made the first depilatory creams, from harsh substances like quicklime and arsenic. These abrasive materials burned off unwanted hair, but would frequently harm skin in the process. So like modern creams, then.

Jump ahead 27,000 years and some of the first non-disposable razors were used in Egypt and India. Possible through advancements in metalworking, these copper razors were often customized and decorated with carvings and designs. Even then it was popular to remove not just pubic hair, but hair from everywhere. And I mean everywhere, dude. Alexander the Great’s shaving obsession increased the practice’s popularity, leading to the construction of some of the first barbershops. Did those barbers talk incessantly all the time, too? At this same time, Roman women were starting to use shaving razors too, as well as tweezers, pumice stones and depilatories. It wasn’t uncommon for women to go bald. But this practice seemed to die down – at least, there were no notable bald women, or evidence of such – until the early Middle Ages, where it was very fashionable for woman to be completely hairless — even on their heads, which allowed them to wear the large, ostentatious wigs and headpieces that were in style. To remove hair on their eyebrows, heads and necks, women plucked and shaved nearly every day. Sometimes, even the eyelashes were plucked out. Had they never heard of taking a pause for the cause?

1500: The Aztecs in Central and North America were using shaving razors fashioned from volcanic obsidian glass, which was sharp and effective, but sometimes fragile.

1600s: European women kept their faces, foreheads and eyebrows plucked or shaved, in the trend of Queen Elizabeth.

But, again, fashions ebbed and flowed.  It became fashionable again to be quite hairy. Sort of – the concept of the safety razor was introduced in the 1700s, and women still tweezed and used home-made depilatories, yet it was scaled back, oddly enough, so that they preened the areas society wouldn’t see, and left the face relatively untouched (though I’m sure they tweezed their eyebrows a little). In 1915 American women were influenced by ‘a marketing campaign in Harper’s Bazaar magazine that painted underarm hair as unfeminine, unhygienic and completely unfashionable for the latest sleeveless women’s styles’. This led to women going back to the more hairless beauty regime their ancestors used. Which is funny, considering some women who go hairless today say they do so in an act of defiance of an oppressive ritual. Whereas, in fact, as you can see, such a practice has been done by un-oppressed women for literally thousands of years.

As I’ve already observed, male grooming goes back quite early, as far back as female hair removal. Although beards often symbolised manhood, health and wisdom, the Romans adopted the trend of Alexander the Great and other Greeks, by removing their beards in times of war. A clean-shaven man thus represented progress and civilisation, while a bearded man became the symbol of slavery, servitude and barbarism in the Roman Empire. From then to now, the trends are difficult to follow, but what I’ve found I’ve included above. To recap, it was considered manly to have a lot of hair, except on the face – where opinion changed every now and then.

To take this topic into modern times, the 1990s saw a rise in the metrosexual. That is, a man who grooms himself, removes most of his body hair, and uses lotions and other grooming practices. One article I went to for research stated that it is socially acceptable, which shocked me quite a bit. up to now, in this post, I’ve merely been writing what I’ve researched, but now I venture into opinion. The opinion being: what utter drivel. Most recently, I remember, was the one-time Aussie cricketer Shane Warn, who was seen looking preened, puffed and sparkled, and the press absolutely tore into him! He was ridiculed by every man I know (yes, we men do gossip about these things, too. We’re just more manly about it!), even the ones who take care of themselves. That may be because the term ‘metrosexual’ is synonymous with those who overdo it. to groom, but not overdo it, is acceptable, in most circles, but to overdo it, no matter your gender, I think is not so.

Speaking of overdoing things, that brings me to my next subject: foot binding. Foot binding is the act of breaking the feet of little girls repeatedly and binding them so that, as the girl grew, the feet didn’t, and stayed very small. This was started when the girl was between 2 and 5, and the feet would be washed, toenails trimmed (to prevent infection – though some also put shards of glass next to the toes, to encourage infection, and thus lose their toes), their bones broken and curled inwards and under, then wrapped up in wet cloth (which would tighten further). They’d then be required to walk about on their broken feet, because their weight would add to the crushing. For the rich, this was done daily. For the poorer women, only a few times a week. This was seen as sexually appealing, and lasted in China (depending on which source of origin you follow) for over a thousand years. Indeed, it was only until the last century that saw the end to it. This is one of the more extreme cases of sexual trends, as I’m sure you can appreciate.

Bet you thought I wasn’t going to go there, did you? Well, I’ve run out of space to go into more detail, though I encourage you to look up foot binding for yourself. If nothing else, it’ll count towards your new fact of the day (if you do such a thing). That’s it for this week. Happy Holidays!

This is JV – signing off.

If you have any thoughts on this post, feel free to post a comment, or join the JE to have your say! If you have a topic you think is worth covering, then you can leave a comment here, or on the JE, too. Basically what I’m trying to say is: join the JE!

Vajazzling The Strip

Good morning, My kinky miscreants!

It’s now December the something or rather (note to editor: change this to the date of publication) and I don’t know about you, but it’s certainly feeling a lot like Christmas!  The town decorations are put up and lit; the Coca Cola truck makes its rounds (and in one case tells a little girl she’s on the Naughty List. Ironically, this is something a good few adults later aspire to); you buy your Christmas trees and bottle of fake snow; and get a light vajazzling.

I’m sorry, what? If you’re not familiar with such a term, vajazzling is the act of placing little diamonds and/or glitter on to your nether regions for aesthetic purposes. Vajazzling has sky-rocketed after high-profile actresses – most notably Jennifer Love Hewitt – commented that they’ve had some vajazzle work, as well as it being at the forefront of one scripted reality show. My dear SJ brought this topic to my attention, for the use on this here blog. Now, here at FOTB we (meaning me) try to be as neutral and accepting of other people’s wants and desires in mind. So having said that: Are you freakin’ nuts?! Ahem. What I meant to say was … Are you nuts? I’m sorry, I just don’t see the appeal. It’s fine if you, whomever you are, do. That’s absolutely fine. But it does mean I’ll have to terminate our friendship contract! But as SJ and I talked about this, it spiralled into the wider topic of sex trends at large.

So what others are there? Well, for vajazzling (not sure if this is the correct word, since I’m not familiar with its different grammatical forms) to be applied, the vagina (I refuse to call it ‘the vajajay’) must be fully waxed (so no vajazzling the Landing Strip)- this, as I’m sure you know, is called a ‘full Brazilian’. Interestingly, there is evidence, according to wikipedia, of this type of waxing going back to 1500 AD, with Pero Vaz de Caminha writing ‘their private parts were so exposed, so healthy and so hairless, that looking upon them we felt no shame’. Which, even taking away the surprising fact that this has been going on for 500 years, is quite interesting. That they felt no shame? Maybe it’s not the actual vagina that people got so hung up on, all those years, but just the hair? Maybe if everyone had shaved their pubic areas, then there’d have been no sexual oppression at all? I think I just solved two thousand years of cultural debate. But what were these Spanish explorers doing that they were looking upon a woman’s hoohoo – and apparently, several women’s hoohoos? That’s what I want to know. But I do understand the lack of shame. As I look on the wikipedia page for bikini waxing, I’m very thankful that I can look upon several women’s vaginas and say I’m merely researching. What’s that, officer? I’m not allowed to look at porn in public? Well, of course I can’t. I’m merely researching the history of female grooming. It’s very important for my research into the philosophical debate on sexual awareness and our coming to terms with our sexual heritage. Suck it.

But I’m also surprised as to the different varieties. A lot of these I knew about, and had seen up close at one point, but I never knew someone had taken the time to classify them. Too, it’s apparently different depending on which country you’re in. Such as:

• American waxing is the removal of only the pubic hair that is exposed by a swimsuit, depending on the style of the swimsuit. For a bikini, it would be hair at the top of the thighs and under the navel. It is also known as a basic bikini wax, or a bikini line wax.
• French waxing leaves a vertical strip in front (sometimes called a landing strip), two to three finger-widths long just above the vulva, and 4 cm (1½ inches) wide. It is also known as a partial Brazilian wax. Hair of the peri-anal area and labia may be removed. Removal of hair from these areas is also known as the Playboy wax or G-waxing. The landing strip wax has become popular with models who must wear garments of an extreme narrowness in the crotch region.
• Brazilian waxing is the most known of bikini waxes, and involves the removal of all hair in the pelvic area, front and back, while sometimes leaving a thin strip of hair on the pubis.It can be used by those who wear thong bikinis. It is a form of bikini waxing, and involves the complete removal of hair from the buttocks and adjacent to the anus, perineum and vulva (labia majora and mons pubis). If a thin vertical strip of hair is left, it may be called a landing strip. Brazilian waxing is also known as a full Brazilian wax, full Bikini wax, Hollywood wax or the Sphinx. The Sphinx variety involves the complete removal of all hair in the pelvic region. The name is derived from that of a naked breed of cat from Canada. The smooth-skinned, hairless Sphynx cat was a genetic oddity discovered in Toronto in 1966. Some salons refer to the Sphynx as the Hollywood.
• Some women trim, but keep hair on their labia, while removing the pubic hair on the mons pubis.

And is expanded upon, according to Anthropologist Desmond Morris, with other waxing styles:

• The Bikini Line: This is the least extreme form. All pubic hair covered by the bikini is left in place. Only straggling hairs on either side are removed, so that none is visible when a bikini with high-cut sides is being worn.
• The Full Bikini: Only a small amount of hair is left, on the Mound of Venus (the mons pubis)
• The European: All pubic hair is removed “except for a small patch on the mound”.
• The Triangle: All pubic hair is removed except for a sharply trimmed triangle with the central, lower point aimed at the top of the genitals. It has been described as “an arrowhead pointing the way to pleasure”.
• The Moustache: Everything is removed except for a wide, rectangular patch just above the hood at the top of the genital slit. This is sometimes called “The Hitler’s Moustache”, sometimes “Chaplin’s Moustache”.
• The Heart: The main pubic tuft is shaped into a heart symbol and may be dyed pink. This is a popular style for St. Valentine’s Day, presented as an erotic surprise to a sexual partner.
• The Landing Strip: A cultivated pubic hair pattern in which the hair is trimmed to a narrow vertical strip or rectangle, and all other pubic hair is removed. The landing strip starts from anywhere between the natural pubic hairline to within two inches from the top of the vulva, and ends just above the clitoris.
• The Playboy Strip: Everything is removed except for a long, narrow rectangle of hair, 4 cm (1½ inches) wide.

To read it like this, you’d be forgiven (by others, not by me. I’m a hard bastard to please. Ooh, look! Pennies *plays contentedly for hours*) for thinking that, with the exception of Brazilian waxes, female grooming is a modern thing. In actuality, it’s not. It’s merely that it’s more widespread, and easier to do. Even back in the stone age, evidence suggests, women were scraping away their hair by stone age tools (see second to previous post on stone age multi-tool dildos) and seashells. The ancient Egyptians had developed hot waxing techniques (no word on whether or not they attached diamonds. Maybe they used sand? Might be a bit painful for the man. Though for early BDSMers it may have been a rite of passage. Maybe that’s how sandpaper was invented?) and Cleopatra is even rumored to have created a depilatory concoction containing arsenic tri-sulphide as an ingredient. Yep. It wasn’t an asp that killed her. It was excessive hot waxing.

Early Arabian women used threading and created the ‘bandandoz’, the precursor of the modern epilator, which consisted of a cotton thread laced between their fingers. In the early 18th century, American women prepared poultices of caustic lye, which, when applied to legs, burned away unwanted hair. And, in the future, scientists will develop little lightsabres to get rid of excess hair, as well as tackle the forces of evil, and to make toast. I wonder if they’ll do stylistic patterns in their pubic hair? Like stars, or lightning bolts, like an adult film version of Harry Potter?

Well, I’ve somehow written more than my limit for this topic, and I haven’t even finished! I suppose I could carry on in this thread next week. Shall do! 

For now, though, take care!

This is JV – signing off.

If you have any thoughts on this post, feel free to post a comment, or join the JE to have your say! If you have a topic you think is worth covering, then you can leave a comment here, or on the JE, too. Basically what I’m trying to say is: join the JE!

World AIDS Day

Good morning, my kinky miscreants!

Today, I bring to your attention a very noble day – that of the 1st of December. It is a noble day not just because you get to start eating the chocolates of your Advent calendar, but also because it’s World AIDS Day. World AIDS Day was the first ever global health day, started in … the past … and dedicated to people uniting in spreading the awareness of AIDS and HIV, and to help combat these diseases. In general, to show their support for the cause, people wear a red ribbon – the international symbol of HIV awareness – and some raise money for charities, like the Nation AIDS Trust, through various activities like fundraiser events, a bake sale or do crazy things like bungee jump naked or vote Lib Dem to raise money.

Of course, this isn’t the only thing you can do. Indeed, you can do nothing. If you know all there is to know, and don’t feel like giving money, then you can go about your business. But if you’re not all clued up on the facts, then it presents a marvellous opportunity to learn something new. So if you want to hold off on learning these facts until Thursday, then you can always log off now and then return here, then! If you do, your fact of the day is: Mars is not red, but brown. The landscape is a very dreary brown. It is the particles in the atmosphere that make it look red. Your fact of the day for Wednesday is: I like chocolate. And ‘Samhain’ is pronounced ‘so’wen’ (sorry, but I’ve been pissed off about this fact ever since it was mispronounced on Supernatural).

So what are these facts that I speak of? I turn to the World AIDS Day website:

HIV stands for the Human Immunodeficiency Virus. It is a virus which attacks the body’s immune system — the body’s defence against diseases.

HIV can be passed on through infected bodily fluids, most commonly via sex without a condom or by sharing infected needles, syringes or other injecting drug equipment.

There are now more people than ever living with HIV in the UK — more than 90,000 — with around a quarter of those unaware they have the virus.

Here are a few more facts about HIV in the UK:

• Over 90% of people with HIV were infected through sexual contact
• You can now get tested for HIV using a saliva sample
• HIV is not passed on through spitting, kissing, biting or sharing utensils
• Only 1% of babies born to HIV positive mothers have HIV
• You can get the results of an HIV test in just 15-20 minutes
• There is no vaccine and no cure for HIV

Put so bluntly it does make for very grim and shocking reading, and while there is no cure for HIV, people are given meds like antiretrovirals, among other things, to keep the amount of HIV in the body at a low level. This stops any weakening of the immune system and allows it to recover from any damage that HIV might have caused already. It can stop people from becoming ill for many years. For further reading, I’d recommend HIVaware. In particular the Common Myths section. It makes for fascinating reading. It busts the myths that only gay men get HIV, and daft things like that. AIDS (Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome) and HIV are non-discriminatory. Anyone can get them. And you can do so by:

HIV can be passed on through infected blood, semen, vaginal fluids, rectal secretions or breast milk.

The most common ways HIV is passed on are:

• Sex without a condom (all forms)
• Sharing infected needles, syringes or other injecting drug equipment

Indeed, 30% of sufferers in the UK are women, and at the end of 2009 over half of those living with HIV worldwide were women. The most common symptoms of early HIV infection, usually occurring around ten days after infection, are fever, rash and severe sore throat all occurring together. This combination of symptoms is unusual in healthy people and indicates the need for a HIV test.  70-90% of people experience symptoms of early HIV infection but some do not experience any. After two-three weeks these symptoms disappear, and someone with HIV may then live for many years without any further symptoms or indicators that they are HIV positive.

However, it isn’t all doom and gloom as you may think. As of 2009, the number of people living with HIV and AIDS (two connected, yet different diseases and viruses) has increased from 8 million to that of 33 million, with over 30 million people having died since the beginning of the epidemic (I perhaps shouldn’t have started this sentence with ‘it isn’t all doom and gloom as you may think) the overall growth of HIV and AIDS has stabilised in recent years – and the annual number of new HIV infections has steadily declined and due to the significant increase in people receiving antiretroviral therapy, the number of AIDS-related deaths has also declined. While, yes, there is still no cure, this decline is indeed great news.

I hope this blog has provided some enlightenment on the matter! 

This is JV – signing off.

PS: Your fact of the day for Friday is: There are 10 million bacteria at the place where you rest your hands at a desk. Mwahahahahaha!

If you have any thoughts on this post, feel free to post a comment, or join the JE to have your say! If you have a topic you think is worth covering, then you can leave a comment here, or on the JE, too. Basically what I’m trying to say is: join the JE!

The Swiss Army Dildo

Good morning, my kinky miscreants!

The other day, I got to talking to my special someone about, well, random things. We talked of contingency plans in case of a zombie apocalypse, the idiocy of people on forums, cyber fucked our brains out, and the weirdness of people having sex with food. Can you guess which one I’m going to talk about here? And keep in mind I’ve already talked about cyber sex, at length. I’m talking about sex with food. As I lounged in my bath, contemplating the mysteries of the universe, I wondered why people turn to fruits, vegetables, sausages and other such things to satisfy their lustings and desires, needs and aches and wants. It was certainly food for thought.

Using food in sex is certainly nothing new. But, also, to broaden the topic: using sex toys is nothing new. There is evidence that our ancestors, in the Upper Palaeolithic era (roughly 30,000 years ago) were using dildo not just for worship, but for use as a sexual aid, as well as sharpening their flint tools. What? There was an ice age going on, and they couldn’t afford to make things specifically for one purpose. That flint knife? That was for hunting, eating, making things, and as a pillow. Arrows were both an arrow, and a toothpick. Deer horns were carvers and used for getting early morning gunk out of your eyes. If they had to make something, it was most likely used for many purposes, like a Swiss army dildo. Of course, with that specific dildo, it’s always possible that the husband, Ugg, couldn’t find his multi-purpose sharpener/toilet paper and decided to use his wife’s, Ugh, dildo without asking, and so it was a one time (maybe twice if he thought he could get away with it) occurrence.

Does that seem far-fetched? Perhaps. Maybe they didn’t. Want to know who did? The ancient Egyptians. I kid you not. Evidence has been found that they used these sex aids as far back as 2,500 years ago. Of course, they would have polished their wood. I don’t think they’d use them if they looked like the one in that link. Just imagine the splinters! They’d have to use their pyramids to get them out. Wait, wrong era. Oh! Maybe that’s what the pyramids were used for?

But I can see the same hole (ahem) in that, too. Maybe it was just used for worship, and not as a sex toy? In that case, I turn to my old friends, the ancient Greeks. their art is littered with erotic depictions of threesomes, of people having sex with animals, and of people using dildos. Like here:

This (I think it’s a) woman appears to not only be holding a dildo, but has a box full of dildos. And is also stepping into it, for some strange reason. Maybe that’s what really was in Pandora’s box? Instead of all the evils being let loose, maybe it just seemed like that, because Pandora was annoyed that someone had been snooping around in her things?

Greedy Pandora Never Learned To Share

And to top it all off, you know what else the Greeks did? They made a dildo out of bread. Yep. Think on that next time you chew on some bread sticks. Do you think, when they used hardened bread dildos, that they got yeast infections? And that brings me right back to my original thought – that of food in sex. To be honest, I don’t know why people do it, why it has a certain prominence in porn, but there it is. There are even fetishes around it. From Sploshing – the act of rolling around in food (and other substances of high viscosity) and generally being wet and messy with food – to Sitophiles, who are sexually turned on by food, be it from consumption, or rolling around in it, or direct sexual contact. Does that mean that everyone who watches such things are Sitophiles? Perhaps not. I’m not, and I’ve seen a few women stick phallic shaped foods into holes they weren’t originally intended for. I think it’s more a case of enjoying seeing the woman play with herself, rather than the toy – though I suppose some like that they take ordinary things from around the house and bend them to more sexual acts. Maybe all the bumps from the peas of a sweetcorn are more pleasurable than a scientifically designed dildo?

The use of sex toys didn’t stop, when we came out of the Classical age, though it did become less open to discussion. Whereas in ancient Greece you could openly go to the market and buy a dildo from one of the shops (they’d often carry them around, openly, wherever they went) such sex shops became less commonplace – though I should point out that it was still acceptable to talk about sex, to an extent (the Church clamped down on such open displays of sexuality).

11th-15th Century Chinese Dildo. Talk about taking the bull by the horns.

A number of plays (even one, or perhaps more, by Shakespeare himself) talked of sexual aids, and the Victorians even had book clubs dedicated to erotic novels, which they’d read, out loud, in ordinary coffee shops. But it wasn’t until Victorian England the sex toy itself saw a full resurgence. I speak of Female Hysteria. Oddly enough, this dates back to those pesky ancient Greeks again, where Plato, in Timaeus, compares a woman’s uterus to a living creature that wanders throughout a woman’s body, ‘blocking passages, obstructing breathing, and causing disease’. but I digress. Basically, hysteria was a medical illness – one no longer recognised today – with the symptoms including faintness, nervousness, insomnia, fluid retention, heaviness in abdomen, muscle spasm, shortness of breath, irritability, loss of appetite for food or sex, and “a tendency to cause trouble”. Or, more basically speaking, a woman who wanted to get off. The prognosis for this affliction was simple: masturbation!  Okay, technically it was to have sex if you’re married, get married if you’re single, and only as a last resort, go to your doctor for a pelvic massage until the woman reached ‘hysterical paroxysm’. An orgasm. The words ‘ta da’ pop to mind, right about now.

In the latter half of the 19th Century, doctors were growing tired of giving these vaginal massages to their female patients – literally. It made their arms and hands ache. To combat this, one doctor (I’m really hoping his name was Dr. Strangelove) made a vibrator. There is some contention as to when that took place – some say in the 1880s in England, others the 1890s in the US – but the result is the same. Steam powered thrusting machines, wire coils and clockwork driven vibrators became the norm. In a time when most households had very few electrical appliances like the vacuum cleaner or electric iron (indeed the vibrator was on the market roughly a decade before these) the vibrator was enjoyed widespread popularity.

Until one idiot had to screw things up and point out that it was actually a sexual thing, rather than a medical thing. In those days, people either truly believed hysteria and the hysteria relieving device to be a purely medical thing, or they merely pretended as such, and not, in fact, a pleasure-giving device. It continued to be thought of in this way until it hit its peak in the 1920s, where it came to a head (tehe), when it appeared in a porn film, entitled Widow’s Delight, where a woman comes home with her date, chastely pushes him away, and then rushes into her bedroom, rips off her clothes, and pulls out her vibrator. At this point doctors and husbands at large seemed to realise that it really was something of a pleasure device, and thus unacceptable.

There, it went into decline, until in the 1960-70s, where people started referring to clitoral orgasms, ‘Our Bodies, Ourselves’ trailblazers like Betty Dodson and Joani Blank began to teach women how to give themselves real sexual satisfaction, and coupled with an explosion in the manufacturing industry, when – according to wikipedia – Ted Marche pioneered the manufacturing and distributing of rubber dildos and other sex toys. And the rest, they say, is history.

Of course, this doesn’t explain the fact that I once saw a woman use the two heels from her pair of stilettos, despite having a whole host of sex toys to choose from. Just be thankful it wasn’t 17th Century Venice, where women’s high-heeled shoes could be over 12 inches tall.

That’s it for this week. I hope you had fun reading this.

This is JV – signing off.

If you have any thoughts on this post, feel free to post a comment, or join the JE to have your say! If you have a topic you think is worth covering, then you can leave a comment here, or on the JE, too. Basically what I’m trying to say is: join the JE!

Ravishment Play

Good morning, my kinky darlings.

Today I write not about something whimsy, or fun, but something far darker than in previous posts. Today I elaborate on something called Ravishment Play. Or, to use the more common name – Rape Play. This is brought about by a thread on the JE that talked about Forced Sex. I found some irregularities in the opening post, indicative of possible misunderstanding by the public at large, and so I thought it should be discussed on here. First, let me be clear, Ravishment Play and rape are too distinctly different things. I myself do not practice either, and am not turned on by either – but I do know enough of ravishment play to act as a teacher, for today. At least, to a certain extent. Beyond that, you’re on your own, dude.

Ravishment Play is where a couple (or even group) enact a role play scenario where one is forced to endure sexual manipulation by another person(s) – but it is done by consent. That is key to the whole thing. If at any time anyone in the role play decides he or she doesn’t want to do it (by using a predetermined safe word), then it’s game over. To continue beyond that turns it into the heinous crime of actual rape, and thus wholly wrong. I think it safe to say that nobody wants to be raped; but people do want sex with a ‘consensual force’ edge to it. The terms of ‘play-rape’ and ‘rape fantasy’ aren’t ones that are favoured by these people (Though some do, I should make clear, perhaps because that’s the phrase it was called when they came to know about it), because that implies that it is anything but consensual, and such terms often confuse people into thinking that some people really do want to be raped. This, I believe, is what happened in that thread. So what is it these ravishees want? I turn, as ever, to the internet. Because we’re already on the internet. It seemed to be the smartest place to look.

•  Primal passion – Ravishment fantasies appeal to primal emotions of lust, aggression and fear, which are often intertwined with one another.
• Physical intensity – Many ravishment fantasies and scenes involve highly physical restraint and resistance. Sex is, after all, a physical act, and intense physicality often expresses and feeds into emotional intensity.
• Paradox and contrast – There is an innate paradox to fantasizing about being “forced” to do something you want done, not to mention the contrast of desire and pleasure with fear and aggression.
• Sweet surrender – For some, it is not resistance or struggle that is the turn-on so much as submission. Being helpless and overpowered allows a “letting go” of anxiety, guilt and inhibition, and an opening to sensation, pleasure and trust.
• Simply irresistible – There is also the desire is to be desired oneself, of the ravishee seeming to overpower in terms of her or his allure, and the ravisher the one who “surrenders” to overwhelming passion.
• Catharsis and closure – Some survivors of sexual assault may find a sense of resolution or healing with a ravishment scene. Such cathartic release is not limited to survivors, however. A person who feels guilty about sexual pleasure, or is troubled by what they consider a “dark and dangerous” fantasy, may also experience this sense of release once their fantasy is made flesh. (from ravishmentinfo.blogspot.com)

That last point you may find very surprising. But it really is true. I frequent a sex toy site, where this has been discussed at length, and one thing that surprised me was that a lot of those who came out and said that they enjoy ravishment play are ones who have been raped in the past. (Though it should be pointed out that this isn’t the case for everyone. Many rape survivors just don’t feel comfortable revisiting such a traumatic event in such a way, and that’s absolutely fine, too.) One thing that we can be certain of, however, is that it’s not just done by people who don’t have a clue. While these points talk mainly of why a ravishee wants the experience, it probably extends to why the ravisher (man or woman) wants to do such a thing, too.

Ravishment play is thought of as the seedy underbelly of the BDSM world. Is it right to think of it in that way? Perhaps, or perhaps not. I don’t know. That it does share common traits with actual rape is not in contention, but I have to be absolutely fair and point out that there are key differences. Above all is consent.

It’s difficult to write this. I’ve known friends, in the past, who have been victims of sexual assault, so it’s hard to look past that aspect to it. But I just ask that you try, because it’s not as simple as thinking that those who are into ravishment play are fools, or that they really want to be raped, or what have you.

This is just the absolute basics of it, but that is the key difference that a lot of people get confused upon. I hope I’ve lessened that somewhat.

This is JV – signing off.

If you have any thoughts on this post, feel free to post a comment, or join the JE to have your say. If you have a topic you think is worth covering, then you can leave a comment here, or on the JE, too. Basically what I’m trying to say is: join the JE.

It’s Nice To Remin-Ice

It’s been over a year since I’ve started this blog. Did you know that? It’s funny, but in some ways it feels as if it’s only just a few months old. I know that’s a cliché, but it’s really true. Though, to be fair, that may be because I’ve got a terrible memory. I even had to ask my SJ, the other day, what month it is. Is it my fault that it feels Christmassy? No! And, in other ways, it seems longer. Far, far longer. Whenever I forget to think up a good subject, and trawl the internet for the tiniest snippet of information that will cause my thought-box go flying with wild thoughts.

But I thought I’d take time away, to look back on my time here. And, no, I’m not using the one year anniversary thing as an excuse to not think up a new subject for a blog post. Well, not much. In the beginning, I didn’t want to do it. Okay, that’s not exactly true. I did want to. I thought it would be cool to be a blogger. There were problems, however. For a start, I didn’t even know how to write a blog! I’d read one or two friend’s blogs, but that was about it. I didn’t think I could do it. But, with no less than three women … persuading me to take up the position. I gave in. Secretly, I was pleased, but a lot less secretly, I was bricking it. I could have made a house with all of those bricks.

As I look back (wondering just how many pages I’ve written. Marvelling that it’s more than one) I can’t help but smile at my writing. I was rather long-winded, including personal stories that had a very tenuous connection, at best, to the subject I was supposed to be talking about. For example, I Wandered, Pondered, As Lonely As A Cow, begins with my talking about a slight accident, where a group of friends (I may have been one of them) wandering around a farm, lost, in the dark. And what was it about? Fucked if I know. I think it was about a thread where members could post tidbits from upcoming stories. I also seem to remember writing about using some bubble bath, but then not realising I’d run out, and then pouring into my bath some mouthwash instead. I suppose I should explain the name. It’s an homage to poem. Yes, I’ve read a poem. Try not to be so surprised! But I’ll not say which poem. Make it a little competition. Yes, I’m making it a competition because I’ve forgotten the name of the original poem. What of it?

Those were quite heady early days. I would ramble on and on, with no real end in sight, about things of in-consequence. I did happen to bare quite a bit of myself, though. Regaling you, my kinky readers, with rather embarrassing stories. And, on one occasion, baring my bare bum. All in the name of prostate cancer awareness. I’m surprised I wasn’t kicked out, after that. Perhaps my behind isn’t all that impressive? But the idea of anal play is one that’s stuck with me, and has been a recurring theme throughout the entire blog. Not just men’s anal health, as I expanded upon recently in Jingle Balls, but sex play, too. For me, it’s just another way of gaining pleasure, and not really all that terrible. So I champion it, on here, in the hopes that others will stop thinking of it as a gay-guy thing.

Though, speaking of gay issues, I am reminded of another duology of posts that I’d written recently. Let’s Get Married … (part one) and Let’s Get Married … (part two) delves into the rather inflammatory subject of gay marriage. Usually, I prefer to be as level-headed and impartial as possible, but in those I couldn’t resist. I embraced the snark. And embraced google images, too. Previously, I’d not included images so much, because I’m quite useless at searching for things, but on that occasion it turned out to be very useful, and I was very pleased with the results. Make no mistake, though, just a simply search query can provide some freaky deaky results:

I dare you to guess what I used as my search query. Go on. I dare you.

One of the greater pleasure I have in doing this blog is the Blog of the Month post. Which means I get to look at other naked women and not feel guilty! Not that I enjoy it. Or like it. I – I have only one female body that I need, want and desire, and as such I’ve no need to look at other women. Still, it is nice …

And there are quite a few blogs that are like that. To name them all would be far too time consuming, and I’m busy looking at naked ladies. But there is one that I should point out. My Dyke In Shining Armour is the first, and indeed only, one to actually have an interview with the blogger. I love interviews (or rather, I enjoy interviews without the actual blogger there!). I love getting other people’s perspectives on their writing, yet I’m terrible at actually setting it up, so more often than not I’m left without such insider knowledge. But that doesn’t stop me from conducting interviews! In This Could Get Sticky, I interview not the author, but one of the characters, instead. Yep. I’m a maverick, that way. It was so very good, for I didn’t have to ask anyone else to join me and very rudely speak for themselves. Honestly, must people do that? Alas, people must.

My penchant for textual conversations doesn’t end there. Apart from one interview I conduct with Molly and her now husband, Signs, on long distance relationships, I also conduct a rather terrible chat between two cyberers, in How To Not Pop Your Cyber Cherry. Looking back, the most fun I have is doing those sorts of posts. There’s just something so bare about them. So naked and to the point, which is quite appealing to one who is often quite terse and laconic with his replies. But that’s not to say that I don’t like to think on things. Absolutely not. As I look back and see all of my posts – and note some of the passing fads that stayed and went; like saying ‘y’all’. Seriously. Brits should not say y’all, y’all. It sounds great in an American accent, especially a lovely southern accent which often makes me swoon (in a manly fashion), but with mine it just sounds I’ve been watching too many Westerns. It’s on a par with southern Brits called people ‘luv’. Too, there was my hot dickety phase, and my monkey nuts phase, and my making up rhyme phase – which is probably best left dead! Then, there was the post with the Male Masturbatory Instruction Manual, and the Story of the Month post, Let Them Eat Cake From My Nipples, where I draw comparisons of Zena’s story with the Babe film, and Tom Selleck. But, really, it makes my favourite list simply because of Tom Selleck. And that glorious moustache. After all, it is Movember. But for him? Every month is Movember. 

But I do like to think on things. Words in particular. Like my The Vanilla, The Neapolitan And The Kinky post, where I think about the different definitions of each one, prompting me to realise that they are, on their own, too limiting, and thus inaccurate. Which then prompted me to make up a few words of my own. Which I’ve forgotten. Oops.

For When Epic Fail Isn't Enough.

It has been a marvellous road that I’ve travelled, with this blog. I hope, too, that I can continue down it for a long time to come. I want to thank everyone who has helped me on this here blog. The behind the scenes people, like Molly and Jules, and Zena for stepping in when I had to take leave, and to everyone else whom I’ve neglected to mention (it doesn’t mean you’re no less important. It just means I don’t like you). But most of all I want to thank you, my dear, kinky readers for listening to my rambles week after week, after what? 57 posts? Who’s up for another 57?

Thanks!

 

This is JV – signing off.

If you have any thoughts on this post, feel free to post a comment, or join the JE to have your say! If you have a topic you think is worth covering, then you can leave a comment here, or on the JE, too. Basically what I’m trying to say is: join the JE!