Pleasure is my business, my life, my joy, my purpose.

Tag: pleasure

Jack Off

It wasn’t sexy or elaborate. Really it was downright mechanistic ((a fabulous old post from Ellie Lumpesse, read it if you have not before!)). It had been a while since I had rubbed one out alone and the fast-paced lives Onyx and I have been living lately haven’t lent themselves to as much sex as either of us would like. It was time to remedy this situation.

I didn’t even move the pile of freshly washed clothes from on top of the bed, just nudged them aside so I could lay down ((I have more in the washer and dryer, I will put them all up at the same time. What? Don’t judge me.)). I grabbed my Eroscillator, pushed aside my underwear, added a little lube, and arranged it to just the right spot. It had actually been a while since I’d gotten off with it, my Wahl has had preferential treatment as of late with its amazingly deep and strong rumbly vibrations. I had almost forgotten how much I love my Eroscillator, but tonight I was reminded.

While the Eroscillator has nothing on the Wahl as far as the bang you get for your buck (($12.49 on Amazon! Seriously! Go get one now! I thought this was such a good deal I even bought one for my best friend for no reason other than it is wicked cheap and she needs one.)) I forgot just how deep and different the oscillations are from normal vibrators. It still produces a different kind of orgasm than any other toy, one I can’t put into words even though I’ve been trying to finish this sentence for ten minutes.

Though I had contemplated my Eleven or Pure Wand, my go-to dildos, I decided to forgo the internal stimulation. It wasn’t needed when the goal was release but not effort or sexy intricate fantasy. It still wasn’t many orgasms until I felt the need to squirt all over the bed.

Yes, many orgasms. When I come I can’t just stop at one, I’ve never really been able to. Onyx has tried to stop me after one and discovered just how irritating I can be when not fully sated. Although I suppose that implies that I am ever fully satiated and I’m not sure that can be said. There are times when I am exhausted, finished, and needing a break, but sated? Those are usually the same times that my clit burns ((not from the chemicals in the lube, just from wonderful overstimulation!)) as if to say “I NEED MORE.” There is often a point where I am unable to deliver or even come anymore but I wouldn’t call this sated.

I contemplated squirting for only a few seconds before dismissing it. I didn’t have my Throe under me and I wasn’t about to ejaculate all over the clothes I had just washed. Plus, this was mechanistic so the effort to get it and position it just right before coming again so I could ejaculate just seemed like too much work. Although even now as I write this I can feel that delightful pressure inside of me telling me to release it, a sensation I used to compare to needing to pee but now I know the difference.

So I came and held myself back from squirting, which in and of itself made the experience slightly less satisfying. How many times I came I don’t know. I always used to lose count after three so now I don’t even attempt anymore. There’s probably an app for that ((Orgasm Counter for the iPhone?–or not, since Apple is all anti-sex apps, but it sounded good anyway)). I stopped, even though my clit was screaming at me to keep going, and stumbled out of the bedroom in a post-orgasmic daze.

30 Days of Kink: It Can Be Funny

This is the twelfth of my 30 Days of Kink I will be answering each of the thirty questions in different posts. I thought these would be interesting to answer and (hopefully) interesting for you to read. These will be posted in order, but not back-to-back.

Day 12: Tell us about a humorous BDSM/kink experience you’ve had. If you haven’t had one, talk about aspects of kink/BDSM you find funny.

Oh, man. I hate these type of “tell us a story about a specific incident” questions. I suck at them during interviews and I suck at them here. Have there been many humorous kinky experiences in my life? Definitely! Can I think of one when being asked to directly relate one? Never! My brain just doesn’t work like that, I guess. This is why I also suck at interviews and am self-employed.

I love to have fun kink and playful kink and think that humor is essential in all sorts of sexuality, kink included. Part of the reason why I enjoy the term “play” for kinky or sexy activity is because I really do play during sex. Onyx and I both love to do funny things, crack puns, and make jokes in the middle of otherwise serious play sessions. I love doing impact play to some music that is going on in my head, often random hilarious things like the Mario Bros. Theme.

As for aspects of kink/BDSM I find funny, mostly it’s taking things too damn seriously, or any of that “one twue way” thinking that so many people seem to subscribe to, particularly online. Both of those things aren’t “funny” in the sense of they always make me laugh, though sometimes they do, but closer to being absurd. That’s not to say there isn’t room for seriousness in WIITWD, because there are times for being serious, but there’s a line there that becomes humorous once crossed. Of course, these things can also be just plain upsetting when confronted with them as well, but I try to keep them humorous.

30 Days of Kink: Ethics

This is the eleventh of my 30 Days of Kink, coming after quite a long hiatus. I will be answering each of the thirty questions in different posts. I thought these would be interesting to answer and (hopefully) interesting for you to read. These will be posted in order, but not always back-to-back (as I have shown).

Day 11: What are your views on the ethics of kink?

I’ve been stuck on this question for a while now, partially because I don’t know where to begin there is so much that could be covered with this question so I’m just going to start anywhere and see where this goes.

First, I have to define ethics. Ethics are a type of moral philosophy. In the realm of kink/BDSM/WIITWD ((What It Is That We Do)) it can apply to a variety of things but mostly I’m going to talk about the moral philosophy of kinky activity in general. That is how we make sure that the play we engage in is itself ethical.

I’m a firm believer in RACK (Risk Aware Consensual Kink) and SSC (Safe Sane and Consensual) which are both familiar terminology in the BDSM/kink world. They are slightly different but essentially mean the same thing. Some people say RACK is better because some activities–breath play, for example–are rarely if ever “safe” but they can be done in a “risk aware” manner or you can do things to make them “safer” ((just as it is now referred to as safer sex rather than safe sex)). Basically this means not engaging in anything without consent or thought. The more you know about what you are doing the less likely you are to make a mistake and actually cause damage.

Consent and intent are what separates bdsm & kink from abuse. Which is also why I have a difficult time playing with anyone who is angry or who has been drinking, as it is far more difficult for the intent to be acceptable to me when either of those have occurred. Mollena wrote an amazing post about intent: “The intention of the person in a Leather or BDSM interaction is mutual satisfaction, whatever form or means that takes. Sometimes it looks so much like an abusive interaction that our only signal is context.”

I agree with her assessment, also, that intent matters far more than consent since so many of us, myself included, love to play with consent and push that line between consent and non-consent. However, if mutual satisfaction is not the intent of the interaction then where is the line between play and abuse? When does it become taking advantage of the other person? It’s called power exchange for a reason. Just like everything there is an exchange: an exchange of enjoyment, energy, pleasure, pain, satisfaction, power, etc.

There are outsiders who think of kink as horrible, wrong, terrifying, and so on simply because they don’t understand this simple difference. They assume that all participants must either have been (sexually) abused when they were a child or victims of patriarchal socialization (especially for female submissives & male dominants), that in order to engage in such practices there must be something wrong with us. Little do they know, playing with power and pain can be a way to empower ourselves, to break away from the socialization, to make up our own minds about what we want, to use a “base” tool (sexuality/sexual interaction) for a “higher” type of liberation ((I put those both in quotes because I do not necessarily agree with all that connotes, but I do not have better language right now to express those ideas without writing many more paragraphs)). Of course, not everyone is engaged in kinky activity in search of personal enlightenment but I do think it’s a by-product of it, or at least it can be. This topic is getting away from me a little bit, though, so I will bring it back to ethics.

Part of the appeal of kinky activities is often walking that line between consent and non-consent, between acceptable and too much, testing our limits and finding out if we can handle as much or more than we thought we could. The thrill of it is just as fun as the taboo. In order to play with the edge without going over it requires skill, knowledge, and communication. If the intent is negative or one-sided that makes it far too easy to cross lines that shouldn’t be crossed or do negative damage.

Lights, Camera…

Not too long ago near the beginning of this month I answered a post in the Seattle Area Personal Ads group on FetLife (login required) for a project titled Process of Pain for Raise Your Fist Productions. It explores masochism, giving a taste of what pain is, what masochists and sadists love about pain, how we play, and other various things. I was very interested in doing this and Onyx agreed to be part of it as well, as a part of being in the documentary was agreeing to do a scene on camera.

Last Monday Amanda came over and we shot a breast play scene. Onyx pulled and twisted my nipples, slapped my breasts, pulled my hair, slapped my face, and made me come on camera. He also used crops, a cane, and nipple clamps on me. It wasn’t a super heavy scene, though there was a good amount of pain, and we didn’t fuck on camera but I did come multiple times. Amanda said she got some very nice shots. She’s filming other couples for this as well and I’m sure I will post about it again when it is done. I’m very excited to see the finished result.

It’s brought up a lot of interesting things for me, as I’ve always loved porn and for a long time I’ve had a fantasy about doing it, though I’ve not always had the body-confidence that I have gained over the last few years. I’ve been seriously considering exploring phone sex work again in the last couple months, I made a couple NiteFlirt accounts but have not yet utilized them to their full potential, and now after this experience I’m seriously considering getting into ethical queer pornography as well.

I say ethical queer pornography because that’s the only type I would be willing to do. This documentary was a great first step, I think, it proved to me that it was something I could do on camera, and I enjoyed doing so. I have a lot of theatre background and have been on stage and in front of the camera many times so I always kind of new I would be able to do it, but there was always some doubt. Now that doubt is gone.

I’ve also recently been reconnecting with my Goddess Babalon after a slight deviation from her path and I believe that getting in to sex work and pornography would be a great act of devotion to her. She was part of the reason I started exploring phone sex work two years ago as well.

Since filming I came across this quote while reading Demons of the Flesh: The Complete Guide to Left-Hand Path Sex Magic for the Sacred Sexuality Book Club Onyx and I are hosting at our place which first met today.

“The moral pornographer would be an artist who uses pornographic material as a part of the acceptance of the logic of a world of absolute sexual license for all the genders, and projects a model of the way such a world might work. His business would be the total demystification of the flesh and the subsequent revelation, through the infinite modulations of the sexual act… the pornographer has it in his power to become a terrorist of the imagination, a sexual guerilla whose purpose is to overturn our most basic notions of these relations, to reinstate sexuality as a primary mode of being rather than a specialized area of vacation from being and to show that the everyday meetings in the marriage bed are parodies of their own pretensions. –Angela Carter

Ebb and Flow

Just like everything else the needs of poly people can change quite often. Since Onyx and I got back together and I returned to Seattle we have had quite a few casual play experiences but neither of us have really been interested in another new relationship. I think at least partially this is because we were both so burned by the last one, but mostly because of the change in our dynamic and activities.

We’ve both gotten considerably more involved in the local occult community than we ever really have been before while we’ve been together. Our D/s-slash-O/p relationship is also far more solid and working. Also we both are working a lot and I’ve been taking a certification class recently. Add all this up together and it means we have just about enough time for each other, let alone someone else.

This is one of the drawbacks of being poly: even with a desire for another relationship there is a point when it comes down to how much time you feasibly have for a new relationship. Now, all of this isn’t to say that either of us would be against a new relationship should something develop organically (the only way we would want it to anyway), but neither of us is actively looking for another partner.

That being said I do still feel the pang of desire for being with a woman. I need a woman in my life with which to have an intimate relationship, that is just a fundamental truth at this point. I’m confident, however, that I will find someone when the time is right. There are just too many things that I am working on and that Onyx and I are working on together so there isn’t much room for anything else. I am very much still poly, as is Onyx, but that doesn’t mean we’re out there actively looking for new relationships.

This isn’t abnormal for poly people, in fact while in the midst of writing this post I came upon the term polysaturated ((via Gabe on FetLife)) which describes what I’m feeling quite perfectly, except I only currently have one partner but many many activities.

This all said, not looking for a relationship also does not exclude the possibility of casual and play partners, in my opinion. Something with friendship and emotions but without being “serious” would be ideal for me at this point in time. I would love the opportunity for purposefully casual play with friends as we’ve already explored a little.

This desire has definitely encouraged me to get looking around more at the local kink community, which I am already making plans to get more into. Not just to find causal play partners but to friend friends first and foremost. While there is definitely bleed over between the occult and the kinky scenes here in Seattle it’s also not a ready topic to be broached with a new acquaintance at occult social events.

Anyone who is already friends with me on FetLife may have noticed that I’ve been on there more lately and I’ve especially been looking at events in my area and tirelessly ticking “going to” or “might be going to” when I find one that interests me. Onyx has been doing much the same. We already signed up for a Delving Into Power workshop with Lee Harrington in February which we’re both very much looking toward. Plus the weekend intensive class I’m taking is over next weekend so we will have more opportunity to go to events than we have in the last two months.

I’ve been slowly pulling our focus toward kink as well as everything else that we’re doing, as I’m sure you may have noticed if you’ve been reading this blog at all the last couple months. Whether or not this happened because of starting the 30 Days of Kink or I started the 30 Days of Kink because my focus was already shifting to kink-related areas is a definite chicken and egg scenario. Regardless, it’s happening.

I’m really looking forward to getting into the community here, and I’m sure I will share as that journey moves along. Perhaps the ebb and flow of poly needs and desires will change once again through this exploration.

Helpless

He straddles my waist where I lay and pins my arms against me. I’m still able to squirm but know that even if I tried to get free it would be difficult. Not that I want to try. I look up at him, helpless beneath him, and he just grins and slaps first my left cheek and then my right. I whimper my false protests as my cheeks turn rosy red and sting from the impact.

The same hand connects with each of my breasts in turn. I squirm and try to cover them but am unable to free my arms. He likes me like this: helpless, unable to stop his ravaging of my body as he chooses. I like me like this: helpless, without the ability to move or cover myself, knowing my protests will not stop him.

A few more slaps and he moves to unzip his pants, not bothering to take off his clothes or my own as he rises up a bit. He shifts enough to let my hungry mouth find his cock, or for him to shove it into my mouth. They both happen simultaneously. I try to move my head as best as I am able but for the most part he is just fucking my face. Yet he’s not just fucking my face, he’s telling me through his actions that I am his for the taking, and I’m lapping it up.

It doesn’t take him long to lean against the wall behind my head and really start moving his hips up and down, his cock gliding in and out of my wet mouth.

Occasionally as he fucks my face he presses all the way in until his balls hit my chin and I have difficulty breathing. Sometimes he pinches my nose shut when he does this. I fight my gag reflex for as long as possible before my throat contracts around his cockhead in the way I know he enjoys. I gag once and then twice at the minimum before he lets me breathe again.

He’s usually gracious and gives me a few breaths to recover with after gagging. I sometimes cough or sputter but always move my mouth toward his cock soon after, taking the initiative in a way even as I’m still trapped beneath him. Most often he will utilize this moment by slapping my face, or playing with my breasts or nipples.

Sometimes he will come in my mouth like this, but this time he moves down between my legs which spread easily for him and he slips his cock into my cunt, made wet from his rough treatment. My throat lets out a moan as I move to meet his thrust as best I can. He takes me effortlessly, occasionally grunting his own pleasure but mostly staying silent as my own sounds fill the air.

We move together for what seems like forever, I clench myself around him as he drives in and out of my wet cunt. I am able to hear my wetness with every movement, the realization of which makes me blush internally, my face already flushed from the activity. He moves my legs so they are up straight against him, my feet on his shoulders, changing the angle so his cockhead hits my g-spot perfectly. My moans change and hands start gripping the wall behind me for support.

Suddenly he pulls out and pushes my legs to the side, guiding me onto my knees. I catch a glimpse of his face which is devoid of expressive emotion. He is at once distant from me and present with me. He is treating me like his fucktoy and I am more than happy to receive it. I quickly move into the right position, backing my hips up against him until his hardness slips inside me again and he continues fucking me with renewed fervor.

I am in heaven for the next few minutes as his cock continues to stimulate my g-spot, the familiar feeling welling up in me, so akin to needing to pee yet not the same at all. I brace myself against the wall again as his movements become even more demanding, shoving my body forward with each thrust. I let my body move with the force of him while also pushing back. His hands are on my hips both to stabilize himself and to guide my movements, a constant reminder of his control.

He starts grunting even more, almost growling as he nears his orgasm, focused on taking his pleasure out on me, letting me feel the depth of his lust for me as I absorb it all into my being.

I am His in this moment, completely and utterly.

Soon he lets out a loud growl as he begins to come. I can feel him exploding in me and make sure to squeeze my cunt muscles tight around him, my feet move to hook around his shins as he kneels behind me, a small gesture.

Once movement stops we both pant for breath and he rolls us over onto our sides. Our clothes still separate our flesh from each other in most places. I can feel the roughness of his jeans against my ass.

Spooning, he wraps an arm around me, the other serving as my pillow. My hand entwines with his and my legs slip between his. My ankles rest on his shins. I am enveloped by him even as he is still enveloped by me. I am again trapped by his limbs, this time helpless against the love and comfort he provides.

Owning It

I seem to have gotten past the point of trying to nitpick my identities and settled into a space of simply sitting back and enjoying them. That’s not to say that I’m not still analyzing and overanalyzing my identities at the same time, but I’ve gotten out of the “but what does it all mean?” funk that I seemed to be in for the better part of the last year or more. Instead of being obsessed with being seen by others as whatever given identity I want them to see me as I’ve settled into the realization that it’s not a failure on my part if I’m not seen a certain way.

Gender was a great source of questioning and anxiety last year in particular, before that it was my power/bdsm identity, and it seems as with my switch identity I have settled happily into a fluctuating identity. My genders seem to fluctuate greatly, there are times when I feel extremely compelled to present femme, which has been recently, and other times when femme just doesn’t fit as well and I lean toward the boi and fagette. I’m coming to feel like fagette is my home planet and femme and boi are the two I take frequent jaunts to on my spaceship (see: Gender Galaxy), which kind of makes sense in that fagette feels to me to be more androgynous, something else entirely, and closer to my core genderfluid identity than the presentation of femme or boi.

Overall I’m genderfluid, genderqueer, or any of the other words used to describe a non-fixed-in-the-ever-pervasive-binary and non-fixed-in-general gender. I enjoy playing with all types of gender expression. My gender is play. My gender is drag. While gender is definitely more than the clothes we wear that is a huge identifier and I do tend to dress femme most of the time, mostly because skirts are just damned comfortable (especially when you have long labia and multiple labia piercings). I also find it easier to find plus size feminine clothes that I like than plus size masculine clothes that I like. I have these damned hips to thank for that.

Instead of looking at presentation as a way of limiting myself by being unable to present the multiplicity or fluidity of my being I’m simply letting go of those worries about what others might possibly think of me and contenting myself in the knowledge that no one can have a whole idea of who and what I am because that is constantly in motion and constantly changing. If someone chooses to latch on to the idea of me as a fixed identity that is their problem and not mine.

I can content myself in the knowledge that I can be the inspiration for new and ever changing thought processes in others and in myself simply by being myself and allowing myself to be at every moment. I allow myself to simply embrace my identity at any given moment without the hangup of what I felt the last moment or what I might feel a moment from now. It’s truly freeing and inspiring.

What Brings (Me) Pleasure: Hammocks


Number 410 from Adipositivity

This is going to be a new feature here on Purveyor of Pleasure, and I thought I would start it off! Normally the title would be “What Brings You Pleasure” (now a link in the navigation bar as well) but since I’m writing it this first one is What Brings Me Pleasure.

This post and this idea, really, is brought to you by the image above from Adipositivity, possibly my favorite photography site ever. I’ve posted many times about and many pictures from Adipositivity and I’m sure I will post many more. I was inspired by the photo to write about my love for hammocks, and that brought me to the idea of this new feature!

If you would like to submit a post for this new feature check out the info page.

I’m not really sure what it is about hammocks that I love so much. I’ve always loved gently rocking back and forth while being suspended in the air.

I remember when I was little my Aunt and Uncle had a little storage shed across from their house that my Uncle had built. On the poarch of the shed a gorgeous rainbow hammock was suspended in the spring and summer. Every time we went over there, if there was time, I would ask if I could play in the hammock. I would climb into it and just lie there, rocking back and forth, for what felt like an eternity. I was as at peace as a hyper child could be.

One of my favorite places on earth is at my family’s cabin on Lake Sutherland. It was passed down from my father’s father to his four children and all of their children have been visiting it since we were little. My family and I would take a trip from Juneau, Alaska to Port Angeles, Washington almost every summer while I was growing up, usually we would drive down through Canada and then Seattle. Back when gas prices were much more reasonable. A lot of the time when we arrived in Port Angeles we would stay at the lake cabin (as we call it), or at very least we would go out there all the time. One little moment of joy in my life was when my Aunt gave me a key to the lake cabin when I moved to Seattle.

Between the cabin and the lake there is a small area of grass and in that area there is a white stand-alone hammock permanently taking up space there. The last time I was there I took a picture of me in the hammock with it’s gorgeous view of the lake and other side. It’s one of the things I look forward to most about going to the lake cabin, that and jumping off the end of the dock into the water and swimming until my arms are tired.

Hammocks bring me pleasure to my core. I don’t know if I could ever be upset in a hammock; they calm me and fill me with utter joy. There is something just so peaceful about laying happily in a hammock, rocking back and forth, suspending all the problems and potential stresses of day to day life by just taking the time to breathe and rock.

Any time we see a hammock or someone references one I mention to Onyx that we need a hammock. When looking at cat towers for our four cats to play on I am always drawn to those with hammocks. Life is just better with a hammock to rest in and let troubles melt away. Someday I will have one. Until then hammocks will remain a once-in-a-while luxury.

What brings you pleasure?

Positivity

For the last few months especially I’ve been calculating a position regarding people in my life. Basically it’s this: if someone don’t make me feel good then I don’t want to be around them. Of course, there are times when life gets in the way and negative things happen, when I might feel sad or bad about something that is happening to the other person or a mistake I made, who knows. I’m not talking about those things, though, I’m talking about if, more often than not, joy is brought to my life because someone is in it.

Selfish? Maybe. But I’m such an emotional sponge that I just can’t stand to choose to be around negative people. When around those types of people I become negative and depressed, my life has less joy, and what’s the point of living life without joy? I realize it may not always be my choice, but when it is I will choose not to be around them.

It may sound simple and intuitive, and in some ways it is both of those. However, it has not always been simple or intuitive for me. I used to be attracted to people who were projects, by which I mean people I thought I could help or fix in some way. This also meant that I was, in many cases, the sole supporter or contributor in the relationship. I would give and give and give and the little scraps I got in return were just enough to sate me so that I could give some more.

It took a lot for me to realize this, and I can’t say that every relationship I’ve ever been in was exactly the same, but a lot of them followed this basic pattern. Of course, there is much more to this pattern than I have really mentioned and there were lots of other things going on too, and I guess that makes it sound like it was all the other people’s faults and that’s not really what I mean. Analyzing the patterns is more of a job for another post, however.

More interactions with he who I’m from now on referring to as Adam have lead me to believe that he is used to this type of relationship from me, even after a couple years of not speaking, which just reminded me of why I stopped talking with him in the first place. The curiosity and temptation have worn off for the most part and while I’m interested in interacting with him on some levels I’m just not sure how he fits in with my new philosophy.

I am focusing on pleasure, which is also evidenced by the change of this blog title to Purveyor of Pleasure. Along with pleasure I’m focusing on joy and positivity. I am, in fact, dedicated to the cultivation of all of these things, and hope my actions and writings can help bring them to others as well.

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