I Have Never…Eaten A Tushie Pasty!

Good morning, my kinky miscreants!

Today, like Sam Becket, I set right what once was wrong. You see, this blog is here to provide updates for the site, Just-Kinky. Now, I like to think I do a pretty good job in keeping you all informed. As we’re a very sociable site, we host many activities in the Chat Kingdom. And I feel I have done admirably well in cataloguing them all and highlighting them here. However, the other week, as I was writing up one blog post while practising my orgasm face, I realised that one had slipped through the cracks (well, haven’t we all slipped through the crack at least once?). Yes, I come here to inform you all of Cornish TUSHIE Pasty. Erm. Rather. Of Tushie’s Chat event. I could inform you all of Tushie, if you want…

It was a cold and desolate day in Cornwall – as they all are – when a man was born. He was, literally, born a man. That is the power of Cornish pasties, they can make the gestation period of women last far longer. 18 years longer, to be exact. And so, on his 18th birthday, Cornish TUSHIE Pasty was ejaculated from his mother’s stomach – much like those weird things in the Alien movies – butt first and amid all the ingredients that make up a Cornish pasty: beef, diced potato, assorted leftover vegetables, swede, onion and ears. And so it was thus that Tushie (variations of his nicknames are ‘Cornish’ and ‘Pasty’ (sometimes with the suffix ‘man’. Imaginative lot, aren’t we?!) was born – into a world of butt plugs, anal vibrators and gimp masks. After his mother left him for a sausage maker, he was rescued by several members of the Cornish Pasty Appreciation Society. Where they all made a pact to raise him as their own. It was in this most august and secretive society (headquarters can be found in the back of the pub, named ‘Cornish Pasty Lovers Secret Meeting Place’ – or ‘CouPLeS Make Pasties’ for short) that he realised that he only had one love. He wanted to head out into the world, and realise this love. ‘Yes,’ he said, crumbs from the pasty crust falling from his mouth, ‘I shall go forth and realise my love of social events and quizzes.’

And so it became that he joined Just-Kinky, and made the event of ‘I Have Never’.

But it was a very roundabout way of coming into existence. The game ‘I Have Never’ first saw day-light (on the JK, at least) during the Valentines Day ball, and a few weeks later Tushie decided to make it all official, and make it into a weekly event. The rules are quite simple – and if you’ve ever played this, go right ahead and skip this bit – everyone says something they’ve done, in turn, and everyone else who has done said thing types in :yep (That’s not a typo, but the code-phrase for a specific smilie). Tushie will keep score, and each month participants can find their scores in the corresponding I Have Never thread. The most innocent kinksters have lower numbers, and the naughtier ones have higher ones. You can also, if you want, make it into a drinking game! Every time you type :yep you have a shot of the beverage of your choice.

Welcome back to all those who skipped the last paragraph. Now, the particulars. I Have Never is played in the Chat Kingdom (found in the sidebar to the left) every Saturday night at 9pm UK time.

And there you have it! Now, in related news, the Murrican himself, Signs, will be hosting this week’s (Friday 24th June, regular time) JK & Sex Trivia Quiz!

That’s it for this week. I hope you have a great time, and join us in the Chat!

My Dyke In Shining Armour

It all started, for DDD, after she left the Masonic cult known as Lesbianism, where patrons are expected to build their orgasms according to the flowery temples of Lesbos. The entrance to their house is the vaginal entrance, the urethra tract the back door, the labia the window curtains, and the clit the bedroom, where the occupants settle in for some nuzzling all night long.

After she left this cult of clit worshippers, to which she belonged to for a good ten years, for the love of a good woman but very little sex – my heart goes out to her, for I could not live like that. Luckily I live next to college students, so it doesn’t much matter – and declared ‘my kingdom for a horse, because all she wanted was a good ride, and she started up her blog, then known as ‘My Decade As A Dyke’, to explore and examine why she did what she did. I can explain why. Breasts. All good men have turned to salivating children at the sight of a lovely bunch of coconuts. However, it turns out she didn’t do much writing about such a decade, the one, and perhaps only, blog of note detailing that era was Accidental Lesbian, where she went to give a girl a peck on the cheek but accidentally kissed her slit. I’m assuming.

It is then she turned to her first love, Dick. Not Nixon. I refer to the part of male anatomy which looks like an old man’s finger, wrinkly and with retractable skin, with the adjoining sac, the old man’s chin, hairy, flappy and aching when it gets too cold. Yes, she joined – or rejoined, I should say – for the first D in DDD also stands for Dick – the ranks of heterolysis by way of having a strap on welded on to her privates. This was just the initiation ceremony. She then had to spend a week admiring it, playing with it, learning how difficult it is to pee standing up, and how forgettable it is to lower the loo seat afterwards (or before, come to think of it), when it was pulled off her as part of her initiation into BDSM, the cult which worships pain – and Vishnu. It was later in this period that she met her current squeeze, her married Dom, who often features in her blogs. I think he gets royalties, a dollar every time he’s mentioned. Or a spank every time he’s mentioned, I’m not sure which.

One of our more popular bloggers at JK, she assigns her thanks for their help to several people, first, to a mysterious internet woman (I’m hoping she means me), Molly – to whom I am equally grateful for conducting this interview, KK and Joanna Cake, but strangely not herself. For she is a very talented writer, she has to be, as she is by profession, and her wit and puns are never far from her hands when she sits down to write. It is rather odd, then, that her family and friends don’t support her by reading her blogs. However, I think I know why. Exhibit A may make things clearer, but Exhibit B clinches the deal. It is because her posts soon became a lot saucier, raunchier, as well, she started doing something called Wanton Wednesday, in which she posts pictures of herself in various states of undress. Yes. I think I know why her family doesn’t want to read it. If my sister did that on a blog, I’d never read it again. ‘Course, I’d have a small problem actually seeing the blog afterwards…

‘And buying a tripod was the best investment I have EVER made’, she says. Not strictly true. I would have thought sex toys and food would be quite high on that list. However, she says this in relation to her taking photos of herself, to which, in the beginning, she was restricted to taking shots of herself in the bathroom mirror. She should have done my trick. Go to the traffic lights and pose naked. The speed camera will pick you up, and all you have to do to get the shots would be to request to keep hold of the evidence after the trial is over. I can’t really be too down on her trusted tripod, though, for it has brought us some very good shots.

It is sad, then, that she has spent most of her life not liking her body (I have seen the photos and spent many an hour and many a tissue to come to the conclusion that she has a very attractive body) when she has no reason to not be comfortable with the body that makes her look anything but the 47-year-old woman she is. I mean that in the good way, of course. It is perhaps best that I leave it to her to say why, then, in her own words:

I do feel the need to address an issue regarding the photos I post of myself. I got into a bit  of a spat with a reader who said that he understood that I was proud of my body, but wanted to know why I take the photos I do. Number one, I AM NOT proud of my body. Though I hope that someday, I might be.

As a recovering bulimic and serial dieter, I have spent decades of my life despising or being ashamed of my body. My first diet (mother induced) started at 10 and I began forcing myself to vomit at 16. I haven’t been bulimic in 14 years and I stopped dieting long ago, but I’ve never looked in the mirror and though, “I’m okay. Sexy, even.”

THAT’S what the photos are about. They’re my way of forcing myself to look at my body as others do. To provide the distance for me to find the beauty in it. Progress is slow, but I am coming along. I can recognize the sexiness of my body, THEORETICALLY now. Just not personally. That said, I think the pic on the post below is sculpturally exquisite: Sexy My Ass

I couldn’t agree more. DDD, you are quite beautiful, inside and out. Take it from a connoisseur of the feminine body.

For the writer, and for us readers, there’s a lot of good that’s come from this, but, for the writer at least, there is just one negative. She is a very important woman and, while you often see more of her body from the neck down, you sometimes see what’s above and, if you know her, then you’d recognise her, and if one of her colleagues discovers her blog, even though it’s anonymous, it could harm the reputation of her company an she’d have to leave it, or be fired, immediately. This is something many among the erotic writing community are familiar with, but that’s a subject for another time.

Well, that’s it for this week, and I bid you all, my kinky, sex-mad readers, adieu. I leave you with one last thought from DDD herself:

I used to think my blog should be more focused, that it should have a storyline and “characters” the way other blogs do. That it should have a “tone” and not jump from sexy to funny to poignant to smart ass. I mean you never know what to expect with my posts – spice jar labels to sex toy reviews, elevator conversation to erotica, typefaces to tongues, desserts to D/S, and bumper stickers to butt plugs. But people have told me that’s what they like about DickDykeDick. And actually, it’s kind of like being with me in  real life. Even I don’t know what’s coming out of my mouth next.

I’ll take a guess: saliva. And I just have a few more things to say. One very important thing; I’s lift. Not elevator!

DDD is currently rather unwell, sadly, with pneumonia. Hopefully next time I do a blog about her she’ll be suffering from an illness I can spell…I and the rest of JK, I’m sure, hope that you get well soon. Hopefully before the next Wanton Wednesday.

Here is the link to her blog.