The Birth of Bondage, Part III: King Dong

           This final installment in my bondage trifecta comes to you courtesy of a 1933 black-and-white epic with a large, hairy protagonist. The sexy horror story of which I speak is, of course, King Kong --- everybody gets off on 1930’s King Kong! Right? Right??

            Embarrassing as it is, that black-and-white ape gave me a ladyboner to (nearly) surpass every discomforting erection experienced in a septuagenarian high school teacher’s classroom.  

How can you resist that face?

            I was spending the rare couple of days visiting my father on the other side of the country --- my parents aren’t together so I don’t see him very often nor know him very well. I was sixteen years old and didn’t really know much about what tickled my clit pickle other than the occasional well-placed banana. We decided to test out his brand new in-home surround sound with a(n) (a)rousing screening of King Kong, which my dad had recently checked out from the library.

            Sandwiched between him and my aunt, also visiting, we set out to enjoy the film. Things were going swimmingly until the beautiful blonde Anne Darrow was tied up as bait to capture the monster. King Kong stomped into the scene and she writhed desperately in her binds, unable to escape the hairy beast’s grasp. I wiggled in my seat. Things were happening in my pants that were not supposed to be happening during 1930’s cinema. He grabbed the dame; I came. She screamed; I creamed.

Kinky!

            Of course, I didn’t really orgasm at the mere sight of a helpless woman, but I did begin to feel slightly uncomfortable wedged between family members. My arm itched to crawl in my pants; my dad’s arm was around my shoulders. I sat there trying to orchestrate subtle pelvic gyrations to assuage the monstrous maw in my pants.

            A bit later, King Kong was captured. A couple of hours later, I could concentrate on the movie. At that point, King Kong had long unleashed his wrath on New York and was in fact sitting back in the DVD case.

            “Did you enjoy the movie?” my father asked.

            “Yes, very much,” I hurriedly replied and skittered to the bathroom to regain composure.  

He's a grower, not a shower.

   

           

Lady Porn Day

          

  Happy Lady Porn Day, everybody! This is a day to celebrate the porn you love. Check out the link, it has a whole list of sweet lady-geared porn/porn info for those staunch feminists among us with sticks (butt plugs?) up their asses. I will most certainly do some exploring, as there’s only a certain amount of times I can watch the same video of two ladies tying each other up before I have to move on to another video of two ladies tying each other up.

            Yeah, I’m pretty one-track with my porn consumption. It was shocking even to me when I realized, while traversing an exceptionally complicated porn site, that all I wanted was the girl-on-girl rough bondage. WHERE IS THE GIRL-ON-GIRL ROUGH BONDAGE SECTION OF THIS DAMNED SITE.

            (…I was slightly frustrated.)

            When I realized that all I wanted was bondage, it blew my mind a little. Really, I had absolutely no interest in your water sports or your threesome or even your sweet, romantic lovemakin’. None of that had enough ball gags for me.  

            And while I’m still fascinated by my own psychology/physiology--- what makes me turn to rope every time? --- I’m beginning to own it. I don’t just watch numbly, letting it get me tingly without acknowledgement of what’s going on on the screen. I let it register in my mind --- this is what gets me off. “oh, that’s hot,” I say to myself. “she’s so trapped!” and on occasion, “damn it, why the hell is she so happy? She’s freaking tied up! Come on!”

            Yeah, yeah, I’m a filthy filthy bastard who doesn’t want women to be happy. It’s called fantasy and I’m going to go ahead and enjoy it, thanks to those women on the screen who act like they don’t. Good times and orgasms all around! Nobody is hurt and my clit is happy. I love hardcore bondage --- even rape fantasies --- and I’m going to take pride in it, not let it shame me as a powerful woman. They may involve submission, but I dominate my fantasies -- they don’t dominate me.

The Convenient Lover

            There is a breed of person who will love you only when it is convenient for them. They will love you ardently, compose sonnets to your nose, your pinkies, your breasts, bemoan the day that you dare love them back less--- but still they will love you only when it is convenient.

            A man from out of state loves me like this. On days that he is wounded and drowning in Jameson in an orchestrated performance of his own perfect misery, he loves me so. My plucky notes play to the tune of his woes and my very existence, for him, is a savior. Right then, he loves me. It just works.

            He loves me after watching a romantic tragedy, so that I may validate him.

            He loves me after a night of picking up other girls goes sour, so that I may give him purpose.

            He loves me when he catches a glimpse of me for the first time in months, so that his heart may swell at the sight of perfection. 

            He loves me as an enigma from afar and as a goddess up close. And for the brief times when he loves, he truly does love.

However, for him to love I must be elusive or within a ten foot radius. And either way, I am not an image of myself but the image of whatever ideal he has created today.

It is a love of convenience. A love of fervent yet transient emotion, ebbing in and out with his loneliness. But most of all, it is not a love of me. It is a love of me as I pertain to him.

This breed of person will worship you. But as much fun as it is to be a goddess, it is not so fun when you realize that your feelings never matter. You are there purely as an instrument of their personal destruction.

House Bars Planned Parenthood From Federal Funding

WOMEN. MEN.

This is not acceptable. This is not allowed. Nobody is allowed to endanger your right to your body like this. Without the right resources, sexuality can lead to disrespect, disease, pregnancy. What this bill does is make sexuality, in particular female sexuality, dangerous.

This is NOT TRUE. It is not inherent of sexuality to be scary. It is not dangerous. Sexuality is healthy. It is a tool for empowerment, self-respect, and love. Of course, it has consequences, and those need to be heeded. But this bill does not prevent these consequences--- it fuels them. It makes sexuality the criminal when it is in fact every congressman who signed this bill and condemned sexuality to a place of fear and shame.

Most of all, without resources, sexuality becomes scary, confusing, and uncontrollable. And it loses its ability to endow its owner with positivity and power.

Why are we denying something so crucial to ourselves? How can any human do this to anybody else? It is not right. Planned Parenthood says it best:

How could you?
How could you betray millions of women — and men, and teens — who rely on Planned Parenthood for basic health care?
How could you condemn countless women in this country to undiagnosed cancer, unintended pregnancies, and untreated illnesses?
Your vote was not only against those who seek care at Planned Parenthood health centers, but against every one of us who has ever sought care there, and against every one of us who knows that when we are healthy, when we are in charge of our lives, we thrive.
It was a vote against me.

Please sign the petition, for the sake of all of us. 

Bondage Bias? (More Terrible Alliteration?)

Oh man, this (NSFW) kills me. The woman could go to a cocktail party in that leash, that’s how classy it is.
Also, I know some people are into this, but it drives me nuts when i’m watching porn trying to get off and all i see are cocks being stuffed into loving, submissive mouths. I wanna see you tie her up and ram her, not just stuff your junk into her face.
None of that here! This fuckfest is all about her helpless nether regions and i love it. And the way he tugs her leash back makes me wish it were socially acceptable for me to be walked by my man friend just like his golden retriever.


Do other women enjoy watching oral? Seeing/reading about a man being sucked does nothing for me, and I feel like it's so prevalent in BDSM porn because they assume the primary audience is dudes. I always get blue ballsed as I have to stop to fast forward through that inevitable part of the smut.
But maybe I'm just missing the eager dick-lickers out there. Not that I don't like the occasional taste in real life, but I'm not really into it getting in the way of my fantasy.

Again, trying to keep the pictures on this blog somewhat classy. So here's a perfectly innocent teddy bear. With some long, hard stems in his hands.

Bangin' Beats

Jason Mraz is way overplayed. Still, whenever I hear this song my clothes immediately begin peeling off. I mean, come on, totally sexy slow hip grindin' beat, and the words "you're dancing naked there for me" are in the lyrics. Which tells me that I should not be sitting at my computer drinking coffee and eating cheetos while I listen to it. Instead I should be fondling my breasts rhythmically and making kissy faces at myself in the mirror (or a lucky paramour, if available). If you're not down to start your foreplay with a rousing rendition of Salt N' Pepa's "Push It" or the like, this is a softer, more luscious exercise in striptease. It practically wills my panties off.

Lest I strip to a broken record, I need some recommendations. What are your favorite bangin' tunes?

Orgasm Santa

Today, I sent off a vibrator for a friend who has never had one and couldn’t afford one. She has had far more sex than me, so imagine my surprise when she told me that she’d never had an orgasm!

            It not only surprised me --- it made me sad. Here was this woman who had men practically orbiting around her, but had never put her sexuality into her own hands. She had always allowed men to dictate it for her. I wanted to put the power of orgasm in her hands, to make her feel like she merited it. I wanted her to own herself.

            Tossing aside the feminist rhetoric: she is my best friend. And it made me sad to know that she wasn’t experiencing this amazing feeling that I was making happen for myself every night.

So, I partook in jack-off philanthropy. Because every woman should have a right to (and take advantage of her right to) hone her coming. Perhaps it’s a stretch, but I think that if more women were encouraged to own their orgasm, there would be more peace in the world.

That there is your corniness for the day.

corniness, vibrator. All in one.