To explore strange new kinks, to seek out new implements… January 21, 2010
Posted by Bean in Cool stuff, Fiction.Tags: actors, fandom, found porn, lulz, non-tmi
1 comment so far
Ever since reading Ranat’s post, “Pon Farr and Other Ways to Get Away With Non-Consensuality,” I’ve been sort of [shallowly!] intrigued by the idea of watching Trek TOS. Pon farr, after all, is a hot concept that pushes my buttons in just the right ways…and while it’s been “liberated” for use by other sci-fi fandoms (I’m talking fanfiction here, not canon that I’m aware of), I just can’t ever quite believe it when it’s not in the Trek ‘verse.
(Doctor Who, for example. I’m supposed to believe that a race as long-living and egotistical as the Time Lords would have allowed themselves some ruthless biological drive to procreate? Seems unlikely.
And in that situation, it’s even more unlikely that the Doctor and the Master wouldn’t have killed each other mid-coitus well before this point in the canon.)
The idea feels a little weird, though. Even if TNG was an early source of some of my first bondage fantasies, TOS was my father’s show. (And I can really only handle fanboying one decades-old sci-fi franchise at a time, thanks.)
Still, this (arguing not just for Kirk/Spock, but kinky Kirk and Spock – with and without the slash) is totally awesome and worth a good laugh.
“Gamesters Of Triskelion”: Kirk spends the whole episode acting naughty so he’ll get whipped some more. God, he looks hot in his harness. If Kirk can’t mate in captivity, someone forgot to tell him. The Providers are so impressed with his uppity spirit that they brand him with pink triangles. At the end, he fondly keeps the harness as a souvenir.
*snorts* Maybe I do want to watch this show… Maybe when I have less on my plate.
In the meantime, I have my sources for kinky, geeky goodies.
Yeees.
Pause, rewind. Pause, rewind. Pause, rewind...
Shall I Tell You What I Think of You? January 18, 2010
Posted by Bean in BDSM community, Fetlife, People suck.Tags: geekery, non-tmi, omgwtf, peeves
1 comment so far
Okay, a question: who the hell can get away with saying that they, say, hate rock music?
Where and when in the Western world would that be considered a palatable opinion by a majority of people? Where and when could you say that, and have everyone in the room laugh and nod their agreement?
Nowhere, right?
Look. I know large swaths of the kink community are really attached to things like metal, punk and goth…or so seems to be the case, observing the playlists people list on kink-related forums. And hey, that’s cool. Some of that music is pretty good.
And you shouldn’t listen to any music you don’t want to. Nobody’s going to tie you down and force you to listen to Chopin’s Nocturne or Carmen, or any sissy music like that.
I mean, unless you consent to that.
But if, in your Collarme/Fetlife/kinkypersonalswhatever profile, you list an entire fucking genre of music as a “hard limit,” I don’t particularly care whether or not you’re joking.
I still think you’re a total dick for thinking that’s funny.
Even if it’s “show tunes.”
Especially if it’s “show tunes.”
…Yeah. Aren’t you cute.
May karma find you the dom of your dreams…who prefers to listen to nothing but traditional Indian music and Swiss yodeling.
It is a truth universally acknowledged… January 15, 2010
Posted by Bean in Family relations, Musing.Tags: adhd, childhood, kink, my mother, non-tmi, service
5 comments
Several weeks ago I was running around trying to get my things together to go out. For anyone with ADHD, this can be a ridiculously elaborate back-and-forth process of “where’s my”s and “have you seen”s; and also frequently involves leaving and coming back at least once (if not several times) for things forgotten and left behind. I am no exception to this rule.
So my mother (who I live with – our house is in a very convenient location for a local university student) was standing by the front door asking her usual ticky-box list of “do you have”s. (She doesn’t have to do this – and in fact, I rather wish she wouldn’t – but she frequently does it anyway.)
“Keys?”
“Yeah.”
“Wallet? Upass?” That would be my combination student ID and transit pass – it would be a disaster if I left home without it. “Money?”
“Yeah, yeah, got all that.”
“Gloves, hat?”
“I can’t find my hat, Mom.” I was hopping around trying to get my Chuck Taylors on. Putting on high-tops without untying the laces is a bit of an art, and I’m no artist.
It was then that she said something which seared itself immediately into my brain with the indelible burn of, Oh my fucking god, Mom.
Watching me attempting to catalogue anything I might still be missing whilst balancing on one foot, my mother said, “My darling son. You know I love you, but you really need to get yourself a wife.”
After a moment’s pause, she added, “Well, what you really need is a keeper. But I suppose you’ll have to make do with a wife.”
Now.
I love my mother dearly. But in that moment, I truly could have strangled her.
Leaving aside any gender preferences or lack thereof I might have for a future long-term partner, leaving aside my misgivings about the institution of marriage and culturally enforced monogamy, even leaving aside the question of whether or not I can even get a date –
Where the hell did my feminist mother go?! I realise that any future LTR of mine is a bit of an abstract, but it’s still bizarre to me that my mother managed to cut said potential future prospect down to the image of a woman trailing me through my life, picking up my socks and making sure I have my wallet.
If I were her daughter rather than her son, surely she’d be frothing at the mouth at the thought of that being my future? Surely she’d want more for me than a life of picking up after someone else?
I suppose you can’t expect much better of the person who insists on saying things like, “But you’ll always be my baby.”
But that brings me to the concept of service. (Thumper’s post on service reminded me that I had a draft on this topic kicking around. His post has no relation whatsoever to mine, but it’s interesting.) It’s something I wanted to write about because my feelings on this are influenced by my experience as someone with ADHD; and I haven’t seen a lot of people talk about how neurological disorders affect the expression of their kink.
(Even though, oddly, almost everyone I know who is either an ADDer or on the autism spectrum is also kinky.)
On a few ADD forums I’m on, some people have discussed how submitting in a kinky relationship can actually work as a form of treatment (because BDSM can provide the sort of external structure that most ADDers badly need); but I don’t believe I’ve seen anyone discuss how ADHD affects them as a dom.
Admit one (but only with a penis) November 28, 2009
Posted by Bean in BDSM community, People suck.Tags: bdsm fuckery, gay leather, non-tmi, trans issues
add a comment
Since I joined Fetlife, I’ve spent time link-hopping between groups, members of groups, groups that those members belong to, things that people in those groups link to, etc.
And so it was how I found The Next Guard – apparently a blog about the future of BDSM.
Ironically, the blog appears to have simply died in the summer of ’07, and I can find no indication that it’s just moved. Still, I clicked through some of the posts since it looked somewhat interesting.
I found this post, which opens with a link to another post (now defunct) about
[…] the recent controversy with the ban of partly transitioned Female to Male (FTM) transsexuals from participating in the Chicago Hellfire Club
Now, I don’t even need to hit Google for the news stories posted at the time to know what “partly transitioned” means. Every FtM knows how to read between the lines on that one:
No dick.
It means you don’t have a dick.
You could have legally changed your name. You could have legally changed your sex. You could have taken testosterone for many months, and grown a full beard. (Although I have no idea why you’d want to do that last.) You could have had a double mastectomy and chest reconstruction. You could look like Buck Angel. You could be undetectable as anything other than a shortish guy, and you could have been living that way for more years than you ever did as a female.
But if you don’t have a dick…well, to paraphrase Edward Scissorhands, you’re not finished.
This is (not) a recorded message… November 28, 2009
Posted by Bean in BDSM community, Fetlife.Tags: lulz
2 comments
I finally signed up for Fetlife – I’m not sure I wanted to (and the more I think about the logistics of how I’m going to get a picture on it anyway, what with a broken scanner and my camera’s battery charger, cord and software missing, the more it seems like a bad idea) – but I got really sick of never being able to see what people were linking to on Fetlife.
Stupid Fetlife. Why the hell do I have to join it to see it? For me, that doesn’t inspire confidence in the service. (“If you could actually see this before you were committed, er…”)
But, well, whatever, I did it.
Shortly thereafter I got this message:
Hiya; I’m Nikki, one of the greeters here on FetLife- We’re kind of like the neighborhood welcome wagon, here to give a personal greeting, rather then an auto-reply.
Oh. Gee. That’s nice, right?
She explains that she’s there to answer any questions, and tells me to fill out my profile, write some journal entries, etc… It’s sounding awfully canned, but whatever.
Then I get to this:
There are great groups that you can join, and you can look for other kinksters based on your fetishes and location. Check out the Under 35’s groups for starters.
Now, what’s particularly amusing about this is that a quick glance to the left sidebar would have provided evidence for her that I had already joined the Under 35’s group at the time she sent me the message.
So this message is just what it sounds like: a copy-and-paste job.
Rather than send an auto-reply to new members, Fetlife has someone copypasta nearly-identical replies into messages which are automatically sent to all new members.
Yeah. That’s funny.
The human time wasted here is also why most sites have auto-replies.
Ready, fire, AIM! October 9, 2009
Posted by Bean in Kinky technical stuff, Random thoughts.Tags: geekery, impact play, kink, safety stuff, too much time on my hands
add a comment
This whole hitting-people-with-stuff idea. It’s potentially kind of dangerous, yeah?
I’ve heard of people practicing on pillows and whatnot. Which is not bad, but most pillows are not people-shaped. How do you know for sure how much you are or are not wrapping on a pillow? Pillows don’t say, “OW, NIPPLE!”
I’m not speaking for other people, but I’m pretty damned clumsy. It can take me time to learn physical skills. It’s not impossible for me to be good at physical skills – I used to be a pretty decent soccer player, for example – but it takes me loads of practice.
So a while back, I was mulling over how I could practice some of the hitting-people part – without actually putting any hapless victims in the line of fire – and I came up with this idea. It’s messy, and it might very well be completely and totally unworkable – I don’t know, I haven’t tried it. It would also be a pain in the ass to set up if you don’t already have at least most of the materials I’m about to list.
But this is how it works (in theory). You need:
- 1 large, clear area totally free of anything that cannot be easily cleaned, or anything of value. (A garage might work here.)
- 1 large tarp, or a bunch of old newspapers.
- 1 dressmaker’s dummy (gender of your choice).
- Something to weight the base of the dummy, because butterflies can tip them over. (I have no ideas here. It’s a work in progress?)
- 1 or 2 garbage bags and some tape. [OPTIONAL]
- 1 (minimum) plain white t-shirt, not too large. [SEE PROCEDURE BELOW]
- 1 permanent marker
- 1 can of paint – in some color other than white – and a paint tray. (I recommend red for best effect.)
- 1 cheap flogger you’re willing to destroy, in a material that will absorb paint. (I’ve heard that there are instructions out there for making a flogger from an old bath towel. If I find those, I will add the link here. And yes, different implements are obviously different to throw, and so on…if you’re already confident that you have enough basic skill that you won’t accidentally bash your partner in the back of the head with whatever you use, this exercise is surely pointless.)
- 1 rubber glove
- 1 set of paint clothes
- 1 pair of well-fitting splash goggles that don’t impede your vision. (Note: chemical splash goggles and impact goggles can look much the same, but they are not interchangeable. Proper splash goggles should not have uncovered vents, no matter what someone tries to tell you.)
If you haven’t already got a clear picture, here’s where I spell it out
Well, naturally September 28, 2009
Posted by Bean in BDSM community, Musing, Sex negativity.Tags: bdsm fuckery, misogyny 'r' us, non-tmi
add a comment
There’s a little something I wanted to clear up.
This blog, it’s not very old yet; doesn’t have a lot of posts. But I know that a lot of those posts touch on the idea of my possibly being sexually dominant. I mean, I know I’ve brought that up a few times.
But what you have to understand is that I created this blog just to talk about that, really. So I might come off a bit overly-focused on the idea or something. A little one-dimensional.
I’m just saying, I’m not naturally dominant.
In fact, I’m not dominant in my day-to-day life at all. I work in the service industry. I spend the good majority of my time in the “real” world running my butt off for other people, trying to fulfill their whims and doing it with a smile.
And I’m damn good at it, too. Efficient, accurate, clean and thorough. And above all, pleasant. My boss once told me that one of our regulars asked about me on my day off; she apparently said that when she has a bad day, she takes time out to come to our mall, our food court and our store specifically because I can cheer her up. I talk to people when they’re bored or upset, and I try to think of anything they might need so I can get it for them before they have to ask. “Anticipation is the key to great service,” I always say.
(Or I would always say that, if anyone asked my opinion. Which they don’t. But whatever.)
None of my co-workers get any dominant vibes off me, either. At least, I don’t think they do. I’m a supervisor, but I make sure everyone knows that we’re a team. I know the staff under me consider me approachable, and that I don’t make decisions for the store just on the basis of what I would prefer.
We’ve had staff members before who were very, “me-me-me.” They were bossy and pushy, and wanted everything done their way. They caused a lot of stress for everyone, and everyone resented them. I feel pretty confident saying that people in real life would laugh at the idea of me being anything like that.
I just wanted to clarify this.
In case anyone got the mistaken impression that I’m naturally dominant.
Bad habits September 24, 2009
Posted by Bean in Blogging, Feminist discussion, People suck, Sex negativity.Tags: anti-kink, daily grind, non-tmi, radfem nonsense, the sex police, trans issues
1 comment so far
When I started this blog, I was well aware of the fact that I might have trouble maintaining it during school; even though it felt like I had a lot to get off my mind and out into a space where I could look at it, and make sense of it.
If that was true last year, it’s even more true this year. All apologies to anyone who feels like they signed on just in time for dead air. I’m taking both a human anatomy course and a medical terminology course this semester (among others); so if I don’t post anything for long stretches, it’s probably because I’m off buried somewhere beneath a pile of Greek suffixes.
I’m still learning how to juggle.
On that note, actually. I have this tendency when I’m stressed to turtle to a rather alarming degree. I don’t know if this is because I’m introverted, or if this is some other dysfunction unique to me; but when I’m stressed I generally just stop interacting with other people almost entirely.
(The most extreme example of that would probably be when I was depressed at 16, and I lived in my bedroom until I reached the point where I discovered that I was no longer able to speak above a whisper. That scared me enough to decide to rejoin the human race.)
So I know I can take the social withdrawal thing pretty far, and I try to catch myself at it.
Okay, so I suck at catching myself at it. People can go for weeks without hearing from me.
In the meantime, I have this tendency to spend my time on the internet reading…well, stupid stuff. Stuff which disgusts me, which makes me roll my eyes, or which makes me deeply angry. Stuff that lowers my general opinion of humanity.
I don’t just read things which I disagree with – in the face of a really good argument, I can and have been swayed – but read things which I loathe, and which will do nothing for me but rob me of sleep as I turn over in my head all the things I could say to my opponents.
…Which would, you know, not convince them in the slightest.
I have no idea why I do this. I’ve speculated for a while that this serves as “high-stim” (as the neuro-atypical like to casually call it), but I know it’s a pretty emotionally unhealthy way of serving my high-stim needs.
Much like a smoker who knows they’re destroying their body, I nevertheless don’t really want to stop. This is obviously gaining me something. I’m just not sure what. I keep telling myself when this happens that I won’t do it the next time I get stressed out. I will stay engaged with people, seek out my friends, and avoid nasty things on the internet. Inevitably, I fail to keep this self-promise.
And naturally, when you combine social withdrawal with reading things I dislike, I get things festering inside for weeks at a time. God, ugly.
So I’m going to get out a couple of things that are rotting within right now. One is old, one is fresh, but they both stink.
And then when I’m done, I’m going to go do something else. Hopefully with a clearer head.
Rotten stuff (and really, there’s no need for anyone else to bother reading this grudgespill):
The hard part July 23, 2009
Posted by Bean in Backstory, Family relations.Tags: childhood, the worst of me
8 comments
As I mentioned last, there are plenty of things I want to post. Handfuls of things bouncing around in my head, yes. But I can’t post about any of them.
Something’s in the way. It’s been in the way for weeks.
Unfortunately, my talking about it is now unavoidable: I won’t be able to continue posting anything other than YouTube videos in this blog if I don’t.
So. Okay. This has to be as vague as possible, but let’s just say I’ve seen this guy around, a dom, and he posts about his scenes with his partner.
Recently, he’s said that he and his partner had a scene that wigged him out (after a very long dry spell, which I gather he thinks was part of the reason the scene went this way). He said that he discovered that “dominant” headspace and “sadistic” headspace are two separate things, and that he’s never felt the latter before.
Although his partner reassured him afterward that the scene they’d had was fine (albeit heavy), this guy was deeply upset by it; he said he felt horrified by that headspace, and didn’t have much desire to revisit it. That he didn’t really like himself that way.
And that’s about the point where I had to get up and walk away.
I never relate much to his descriptions of how he feels when he doms; they’re interesting, but I think our individual personalities and styles of…interpersonal approach?… are too different.
But when he started to describe this new headspace, I sort of felt like I was having an out-of-body experience: it was completely familiar, and I seemed to know everything he was going to say next. And obviously, I empathize with his sense of horror.
What drove me around the bend for a while was trying to figure out: when have I felt like that? If it seems so familiar, I should surely be able to remember the last time I felt that way. Or the second-to-last time. Or whatever. But I can’t.
My memories are weird – not ever really repressed, but certainly inaccessible at times. Things come back to me, or they don’t. I can’t always call them up when I want to.
One thing I did remember: the first time I felt that way.
Heck, I don’t know. It’s a strong enough memory that maybe this was actually the only time.
::
Just a quick note here:
This is backstory. This is not pretty backstory. I’ve told only highly abbreviated versions of this story before.
This has been so difficult to write precisely because, like a lot of people, I prefer to subtly frame things so that I will look likable. I can omit my nastiest, most uncharitable thoughts; I can own up to mistakes with just enough self-depreciation to be charming. I can present myself as just human enough to look good.
Even if I cannot do that (such as when I talk about my personal opinions, or talk about things that irk me), I can be fairly confident that someone will agree with me and like me.
I can’t do that right now. There’s not much to like about me in this story.
As the main character of this narrative, I am not good. I’m selfish, manipulative, cowardly and ignoble.
I am possibly the villain. I am certainly not the hero.
Walken here July 9, 2009
Posted by Bean in Cool stuff.Tags: actors, found porn, non-tmi
5 comments
There’s at least a dozen posts swirling around in my head, but I’m admittedly posting this first.
Have you ever seen a man tap dance and strip at the same time?
If not, stick with this (or just skip to about 1:45):
Bean 