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Playing the game

Posted at 00:23 on 3 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

One of the problems with being a good submissive at a kinky roleplay event is that well-behaved characters don't get punished, and can end up feeling a bit left out. (The exception is if the tops know you well enough to pick on you unfairly. Leia-Ann Woods would probably argue that this situation is not desirable at all, but I did find myself envying her, strange as it seems - I'd have found being singled out much easier!)

In private D/s scenes and social contexts like play parties and clubs, deliberately bratting, being disobedient or causing mischief in order to earn a punishment has always made me feel uncomfortable. I can't get over the idea that I'm being horribly self-involved, rude, demanding and attention-seeking. More generally, I've never really liked being made to feel "naughty" when I'm being punished. I much prefer to please my partners - and if I please them by being punished, so much the better!

But in a social roleplay like the Finishing School weekend, what's the best approach for a good girl who likes to play hard? Should I only roleplay with tops I can trust to set me impossible tasks, single me out unfairly, pick up on every little misdemeanour, deliberate or accidental? Not easy to achieve unless I only roleplay with my partners - and if every bottom in a scene needed such treatment, the tops would have their work cut out!

The first public punishments of the weekend were meted out at the Saturday morning assembly. Emma-Jane had organised matching Little Miss Trouble panties for everyone to wear instead of our regulation knickers. She'd made sure a pair was provided for me, but I agonised stupid amounts over whether to participate or not. I really wasn't comfortable playing a bratty persona and deliberately earning punishments. It's just not my style. But I didn't want to seem like some snotty goody-goody thinking she was better than everyone else, either. I'm more susceptible to peer pressure than I'd like!

In the end I decided that it was foolish to pressure myself to do something I wasn't comfortable with, and wore regulation knickers. I was in on the joke, but when Mrs Darling and Miss Hammond-Grant whacked their way down the line of naughty bottoms, mine was passed over (apart from a couple of over-enthusiastic, accidental swats from Miss H-G on her way past the first time, which was more funny than anything else!)

I think it was the right decision. I wasn't excluded from a big scene, and the teachers didn't go on about my abstention to the extent I felt embarrassed about it. But interestingly, as we stood there in assembly, skirts lifted to show Mrs Darling who had participated and who had not, I realised that despite my misgivings I probably would have felt comfortable if I'd joined in, after all. Okay, it would have felt a bit artificial, but it was no big deal and all in good fun. Next time, perhaps, I'll have the confidence to join in for the sake of the joke. After all, if my character doesn't misbehave somehow, my real kinky self won't have much fun.

I've already decided that at future roleplay events like this I definitely want to take a character, with a different name and backstory (I have a few ideas already...), to make it easier for me to indulge in this sort of play without guilt.

Being good out of character is great. (Being responsible and helpful, being nice to people, pulling your weight with chores, not being selfish or annoying). But my character and me have different aims. I like playing hard and want to be included in the kinky fun. My character, however, wants to avoid getting into trouble. Both of us want to please our tutors and get on with my classmates. But is being good in character necessary to be a good play partner?

The only kind of scene I've played for fun before involved crimes committed offstage, or unfair scenarios with sadistic tops taking advantage. An educational setting with fair, likeable teachers is very different. It's unfair to expect two tops to take responsibility for satisfying a whole group of kinky girls without any input from them - it's reasonable that we should help them along by giving them something to work with. Really, if you think about it, misbehaving is the right thing to do in this sort of context!

Outright bratting may not be my style, but creative mischief to amuse my classmates and enliven a group roleplay feels less self-involved - it enhances the experience for all. My teachers' characters won't approve, of course, but the real tops trying to pull together an entertaining and satisfying group scene will appreciate imaginative contributions (and are almost certainly finding it as funny as us). The consequences are an out-of-character reward as much as an in-character punishment. I favour active rather passive submission, and I think this sort of "misbehaviour" is the equivalent in certain types of roleplay.

One rule Adele Haze mentioned at the weekend which several classmates agreed with was, "don't commit the crime (in character) if you can't take the punishment". But I think it works the other way, too - if you want the punishment, you have to earn it somehow! Part of being a grownup, after all, is self-reliance - it's not fair to expect other people to do all the work for me.

There's a difference, of course, between the sort of imaginative, entertaining mischief which enlivens a scene, or cheeky retorts witty enough to make people laugh, and being genuinely annoying or aggravating. This line might be obvious to hardcore purveyors of mischief, but I'm just trying to puzzle it out - helped by following the good examples of my fellow Finishing School students.

Here's what I've got so far: think of this as Finishing School Etiquette (the unofficial version)...

  • Mischief and cheekiness are all very well, but unkindness and snideness are rarely justified. Creativeness and generosity of spirit aren't incompatible with rule-breaking!
  • Targets should be chosen with care - mean characters are fairer game than nice ones, and of course one should show solidarity with one's fellow students! Other people "playing the game" are better targets than those trying to be good.
  • Disobedience should be frivolous and entertaining for onlookers - attention-seeking behaviour is more justifiable if you put on a good show and raise a laugh.
  • "Naughtiness" shouldn't be an excuse to get out of chores or unpleasant duties, especially if this makes more work for your fellows. Same goes for bothering people while they're doing something difficult, unpleasant or necessary.
  • Just as tops can be expected to look after our limits, we should look after theirs. It's better to ease off when they're particularly tired of dealing with naughty pupils rather than demanding more attention from them.

What do you think? Is that a reasonable approximation of "bratting etiquette"? Are there any I've missed?

I think all my fellow players last weekend had an instinctive grasp of these rules. As well the teachers showing us how to be more ladylike, the other Finishing School pupils offered a masterclass in responsible naughtiness. Watching so much entertaining cheekiness and mischief has left me feeling much more confident that I could enjoy breaking the written rules, once I've got a better sense of what the unwritten ones are.

I've realised that so much of effective naughtiness is about confidence. Answering back is impossible if you're too tongue-tied to think of witty retorts. It's easier to cause trouble if you can trust that your play partners will enjoy the consequences. One of the reasons I default to obedience is if I feel shy or insecure and don't want to call attention to myself. I'm worried about seeming like one of those demanding, pushy bottoms constantly competing for attention. But this weekend offered a crash course in creative ways of getting into trouble that are fun for all involved, and by the end I was feeling more confident that I could join in without making a genuine nuisance of myself. Now I just need more practice - clearly, I'm just going to have to do more roleplay!

I'm not sure what Mrs Darling and Miss Hammond-Grant will make of the non-curricular things I learned this weekend. I'm sure Finishing School was intended to make me better behaved, not worse...

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Tags: dominance and submission, Finishing School, kink, learning curves, meta-analysis


We who would virtuous be / leave smut behind us

Posted at 20:04 on 7 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

Perhaps unsurprisingly when your starting point is a group of adult women indulging in erotic roleplay, sexual misdemeanours became a bit of a theme during the Finishing School weekend.

Of course, our tutors Mrs Darling and Miss Hammond-Grant wholly disapproved of any crudeness or wanton behaviour. Those of you who read Amy Hunter's blog will already have been treated to the Darling's Academy anthem, in which smut (and its dangers) takes centre stage. The words of our beloved anthem were strangely prophetic. It's almost as if our tops expected modesty to be the thing we would struggle with most.

Twice during the weekend, Leia-Ann Woods earned herself a vicious tawsing for not wearing appropriate underwear. (I cringed a little as Miss Hammond-Grant tawsed her hands for not wearing a bra during class, as I never wear the things, but since I didn't fancy a hand tawsing, I thought it would be foolish to own up.) Several girls were punished for having illicit liaisons with 'bachelors' - and indeed other girls, despite Leia-Ann's protestations in Sunday assembly that the lovebite on her neck was the work of an unseasonal fruitbat.

My first punishment of the weekend, in fact, during Saturday morning assembly, was for making inappropriately sexual conversation during the drive to the castle the night before. Amelie Hammond-Grant targeted Violet Kynaston (as played by Adele Haze) first. "Could you explain, please, exactly what you mean by shagging, Violet?"

Titters from the girls. Violet kept her cool. "Um, it's when you get a very hairy dog, miss, and you have to shave it so it's less shaggy..."

Nor had our polyamorous gossip escaped their notice:

"Two boyfriends, Violet? Why would one possibly need two?"

"Well, Mrs Darling, it's useful to have a backup in case one of them is indisposed."

I hadn't got away with it either. I was informed that talking openly about sex, especially with multiple partners, is quite unladylike, and mention of same-sex encounters was quite disgusting (a fiction I am perfectly happy to indulge when both my tops have been known to partake of girly fun themselves!). Amy Hunter played the outraged teacher to perfection. "What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Blake?"

"Oh," I quipped, shamelessly stealing one of Adele's lines from the bus journey, "I must have come over queer..."

I was rewarded for my uncharacteristic cheek with giggles from my classmates. Somehow keeping a straight face, Mrs Darling asked me to step forward for my first whacking of the weekend - six with the tawse, over my (uniquely sensible) knickers.

Finishing School included some hilarious, imaginative pranks from my classmates which not only earned them well-deserved punishments, but provided excellent entertainment for everyone else. My personal favourite was the conspiracy to serve chocolate willies instead of after-dinner mints on Saturday night, which earned Caoilfhionn and Head Girl Catherine Thomas a blistering double caning each that was astonishing to watch. I particularly enjoyed Caoilfhionn's response when Mrs Darling asked if she was responsible for this outrage: "Responsible is a very interesting choice of word, Mrs Darling..."

Afterwards, though, as various miscreants were punished for a sequence of creative misdemeanours (nothing, it seems, escaped Mrs Darling's attention), I started to feel a bit left out. I'd been surrounded by CP all weekend, but received very little of it. I hadn't planned any outrageous pranks in advance. I'd tried my best to do well in my lessons. In-role eagerness to please clashes badly with an out-of-role desire to see some action.

I turned to Zille, who was watching the canings with a similar envy in her eyes. "Bad girls get all the fun," I whispered, and she vehemently agreed.

We looked at each other.

"Maybe we should be bad."

Thus a plan was born.¹ We'd intended to steal some alone time either way, but had left open the question of whether we wanted to be caught at it. Suddenly the idea of being interrupted mid-coitus behind the curtain seemed like the best of both worlds. But as we edged discreetly over to the tea table in hopes of engineering such a scene, we were waylaid by her 'guardian', Lord Buchanan-Defeu, who had picked up on our need for mistreatment and was attempting to make it happen in his own way. Frustrating as it was to be hindered from executing the Curtain Plan, he did manage to get us into trouble first.

I can't remember whether it was Zillah or her guardian who first started fussing with his bowtie. Did he ask us to neaten it or did we take the liberty ourselves? However it happened, before we knew it his bowtie, far from being tidied, was hanging loose around his neck. "It's alright," we told him, "loosened bowties are the fashion after a certain point in the evening."

Apparently our claims that he looked 'cool' didn't cut it. The next thing we knew, Miss Hammond-Grant was marching over. "Lord Buchanan-Defeu tells me you have been taking liberties with his dress!" she cried. "Am I to understand you have been touching him in an over-familiar manner?"

Our protestations fell on deaf ears. Lord Buchanan-Defeu nobly opted to help Miss Hammond-Grant correct her wayward charges, and thus it was that I found myself over the Deputy Head's lap while Zillah was dealt with by her guardian. It was the first over-the-knee spanking I'd received that weekend, and I found it very hard to conceal my delight. Everyone watched as Miss Hammond-Grant raised my ballgown and spanked me hard over my panties. Yes, my body was singing, finally, yes. I know I was supposed to be in the role of an embarrassed and petulant pupil, but I was jubilant. It was just what I needed. Amy Hunter spanks hard - it was actually the first time I'd ever bottomed to her, and it was lovely to engage with her on that level after watching her get her domme on over the last couple of years.

After that I took a turn over Lord Buchanan-Defeu's knee, which struck me as rather more familiar than merely adjusting a bowtie, but I was hardly going to argue at that point.

I'm sure Zillah and I were supposed to be chastened and sorry after our punishments, but I'm afraid to say they merely encouraged us. Happy and pleasantly buzzing with endorphins, we giggled on the sofa as we watched the party unfold around us. I was more than a little tipsy by this stage - I'd been so run down with cold over the previous few days that I'd nearly had to leave lessons earlier that afternoon, but somewhere during this evening, aided by champagne and the excitement of the experience, my energy had flipped into a slightly manic euphoria which I knew I'd probably pay for later.

Cuddling up to Zille, we revisited our plan. As Leia-Ann earned herself yet another public punishment (I didn't even hear what it was for this time) I whispered to Zille that we could probably get away with a quick snog while everyone else was distracted watching Leia-Ann. A quick snog, of course, turned into an enthusiastic makeout session, which lasted glorious minutes before a shout from Mrs Darling cut across the room like a knife.

We were in it. Caught red-handed. Despite having willingly leapt into trouble, when I stood up and faced the wrath of the Head and Deputy Head of the Academy my heart began to pound and I wondered if this had been wise. The heat of their scolding was like an onslaught, and I felt my face redden as we were told how much we'd disgraced Mrs Darling in front of her guests.

Zille and I were instructed to stand facing the tea table and bend over with our hands on it. To lift our evening gowns and pull down our panties. This would be a double caning, and it would be on the bare. I would receive my strokes first.

The caning itself is a blur. Mrs Darling and Miss Hammond-Grant arranged themselves either side of me and pulled no punches. It was hard - hard enough to make me clench my hands and gasp, although I didn't feel like I was making much sound compared to the buzz of the gathering behind me. I can't even remember how many strokes I got - I wasn't asked to count - 12 or 18, I think; but all I remember is a haze of sensation, intense, delicious, exhilarating. I devoured every moment. Perhaps I shouldn't admit to this where my tops can read it, but for me the experience translated as pure pleasure. I was flying so high that every searing stroke seemed to pour energy straight into my spinal cord.

I was left with a sequence of delicious welts which hardened to scabs over the next few days, proof that my memory of those slicing, burning strokes is not exaggerated. The marks are still there.


The next day, I felt a bit nervous about the fact that the only mischief I could manage was sexual in nature. Compared to the pre-planned pranks and exuberant naughtiness going on around me, it hardly felt imaginative. In our room, Adele remarked that she was glad I'd managed to land myself in trouble in a way that felt comfortable and natural for me, and that the incident with Zille had been "in character". I suppose, since I wasn't really playing a character, that this is true; but I couldn't shake the feeling that playing a different role next time and coming up with something a bit less predictable would have been more entertaining.

It wasn't until I re-read the lyrics of the Darling's Academy anthem a few days later that I realised the extent to which they focussed on sexual misbehaviour. Sluttiness, it seems, is one of the worst crimes the Academy can imagine:

We who would virtuous be
Leave smut behind us
Hereby learn decency
With sore reminders.
To Darlings we are sent
Our tawdriness repent
It is our one intent
To be a lady.

Out of character, I'm proud of my 'tawdriness' - I don't see anything wrong with it and I know Lucy and Amy don't either. It's certainly an aspect of myself which I'm disinclined to curb even when I'm trying to be behave, and it's a type of wrongdoing I'm perfectly comfortable with. So I'm reassured that, rather than 'cheating' the system by not behaving in-role, my misdeeds were perfectly in tune with the script.

Clearly, when it comes to smut, my protestations of being 'good' are less accurate than I thought. In this area at least, I fear I may be a hopeless case.

1. While Zille and I were plotting, I did manage to earn myself six of the best with the aid of Leia-Ann, but I'll tell you that story later. Far from satisfying my appetite for punishment, it merely left me wanting more.

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Tags: Adele Haze, Amy Hunter, Finishing School, kink, Leia-Ann Woods, Lucy McLean, other pictures, Zille Defeu


The magician's (other) apprentice

Posted at 22:45 on 9 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

I've just received the images from one of the most exciting photostories we shot at the last stills shoot for my new site, with new photographer Daniel.

I knew that one of Adele Haze's favourite fantasies was a "magician's apprentice" scenario. We decided to shoot a set based on a story she was writing, in which the young male apprentice of a magician brings a wench home, with unexpected consequences. I wasn't modelling for this one, which left me free to direct - handy given the complexities of the narrative. It's a good 'un, though.

Our story begins with ceremonial magician Mr Sheridan, played by Thomas Cameron.

One night while out on the town, his young apprentice Giles (Jimmy Holloway) meets a girl called Sophie (Adele Haze). To impress her, he brings her back to his master's workshop.

Sophie is delighted, and soon she and Giles are engaged in some enthusiastic snogging in Mr Sheridan's chair. But as their kissing increases in passion, something very strange happens - all the candles in the room spontaneously burst into flame.


A moment later Mr Sheridan thunders in to investigate the cause of the magical flare which interrupted his very important working upstairs. He is not impressed to discover a strange woman in his secret workshop.


It was a real treat being able to bring Adele's fantasy to life - made even better by the fact that I persuaded Tom and Jimmy to do a rare M/m scene. They're such close friends in real life that it's not something they're usually comfortable doing, but they agreed to a formal, masculine six of the best for the sake of this scene. Much to the delight of me and Adele. She was enjoying herself so much that I had to crop her out of some of the photos due to her out-of-character lascivious grin - and she's posted some more photos of the caning on her own blog.


These are two of my very favourite boys, and I'm so thrilled that they had the guts to enact this scene to please us girls. Enjoy, ladies - it may not happen again, but I'm very happy I got to see it once at least!

This photostory, complete with an original fiction piece by Adele herself, will be available for download on my new site when it goes live sometime in the new year. But I'll post a sample from the second half before then. Jimmy and Sophie's ordeal isn't over yet - Mr Sheridan intends to get to the bottom of what caused the unexplained magical power surge, and he has a shrewd idea of where to look...

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Tags: Adele Haze, Fantasies, Jimmy Holloway, M-M, other pictures, porn production, Thomas Cameron


Little Crackers

Posted at 22:17 on 10 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

While I'm on the topic of M/m canings, Eliane posted an extremely tasty clip on twitter today. This is from a film coming out this Christmas starring Stephen Fry, which appears to be autobiographical in theme.

1969 - Christmas Term and twelve year-old Stephen Fry isnt popular with his headmaster; his sweet tooth, extensive vocabulary and sharp wit regularly earn him six of the best. Unhappy with the pitiful offerings of the tuck shop, Fry Secundus, as hes known, often ventures out of bounds to the village sweet shop. But when one trip to the confectioners too many catches up with young Stephen, and the headmaster threatens to exclude him from the Christmas festivities, Frys only hope lies with Bunce, the frightened new boy hes taken under his wing.

If that wasn't enough of an appetising setup, add this into the mix: the headmaster in question is played by Mr Fry himself, and the film appears to show him giving a stiff three of the best to his 12 year old self. Don't believe me? Check out this tantalising clip (sorry - the video isn't available to embed, but your clicking finger will thank you for making the effort.)

"The last boy to whom I administered twelve strokes of the cane is buried under that apple tree. Be advised. Now, bend over."

I am pleasantly shuddering with anticipation.

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Tags: Fantasies, M-M


Zille caned in jodhpurs

Posted at 22:34 on 11 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

Another taster from my forthcoming site. Zille Defeu has been hard at work editing photos from the shoot I did with her a year ago (almost exactly, in fact), and she's just posted this image on her blog:

Thanks to her partner Malc for the amazing photo.

Zille is currently in the running for this year's New Spankee award at the Spanking Spot, although she's not a new spankee - she's been running BDSM and fetish porn sites for years as a producer and photographer, and is only new to the niche world of pure spanking sites. Speaking as a producer/director myself, I can tell you that she's an absolute star to work with - totally professional, very talented and a complete sweetheart. Please do vote for her - she's one of the pioneers of queer and female-gaze porn, a total hottie and a gorgeous person to boot, and it would be great to give her credit where it's due.

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Tags: Photos, porn production, Thomas Cameron, Zille Defeu


That Bored to Death scene

Posted at 01:02 on 14 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

Everyone and their dog has probably seen this already, but just in case you missed it on Chross' blog, here's the recent scene from HBO's "Bored to Death" which is being hailed as the most authentic spanking ever aired on mainstream TV:

According to the TV universe, spanking is still only acceptable if it's presented as comedy, but the comedy scenes are certainly getting kinkier! This scene isn't particularly believable, but it's not unsympathetic, either. I think you're meant to enjoy Nina's enthusiasm, despite her weird timing and laughable inconsistencies. Extra props for mention of safewords, the focus on the spankee's desires and Jonathan responding as if this happened to him every day.

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Tags: films and TV, Videos


Both Cheeks

Posted at 22:10 on 14 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

Here's another audio piece for you, a kinky fairytale with a twist in the tail. It's by Jim, the writer who penned Towards Forgiveness and Halloween Switchery, and has kindly given me permission to share our collaborations on my blog. This is a bit longer than the other audio pieces I've posted so far and I think it's rather fun. Hope you like it.

Both Cheeks (10:06)
(Click to play or download)

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Tags: audio stories, other pictures


UK porn ban?

Posted at 17:59 on 20 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

A month ago, Tory MP Claire Perry called for British ISPs to implement an "opt-in" system for internet pornography based on age verification, to prevent under 18s from looking at sexually explicit content online, because she believed that "British internet service providers should share the responsibility to keep our children safe." Fortunately for us, culture and communications minister Ed Vaizey disagreed. "We believe in an open, lightly regulated internet," he said. "The internet is by and large a force for good, it is central to our lives and to our economy and Government has to be wary about regulating or passing legislation." Mr Vaizey suggested that taking responsibility for what your children see online and how they respond to it is kind of what parenting is all about.

Fine. Except that yesterday, Ed Vaizey made a dramatic U-turn by inviting ISP giants such as BT, Talk Talk and Virgin Media to a meeting to discuss how they might implement such a system. "I think it is very important that it's the ISPs that come up with solutions to protect children," he said, in a dramatic reversal of his stance four weeks ago.

This is worrying stuff for a whole host of reasons.

Firstly, there's the practicalities of implementing the scheme:

The plan is to allow parents to 'opt out' of the sites and they will then be blocked at the source, rather than using conventional parental controls.

Adults who wish to view the material would have to choose to 'opt in'.

Following their decision, homeowners would then be able to choose what sites they receive in a cinema style guide, such as U for all ages, or 18 for adults.

Got that? Unlike cinema style age controls, this wouldn't be an individual decision, but a blanket one across a household. In short, it falls into the same trap as the Digital Economy Act. In order to prevent their children from viewing porn, parents would have to give it up themselves. Adults living at home? Forget it - you're under your parents' roof, you follow their rules. Households of shared adults, like most Londoners who don't cohabit with a partner? You'd better have a good relationship with the housemate whose name is on the broadband account. What about students living in halls? Or adults who live with their landlords?

Either the system will impede the freedoms of adults across the country, or it will be so restrictive that no-one will use it. As Tom Scott writes for the Guardian:

Any "think-of-the-children" internet filter has a fundamental problem: if it's effective enough to actually block adult content, it will also be irritating enough that almost everyone will turn it off.

An effective filter would have to censor Flickr, which has a large amount of adult imagery. It has to censor every blogging platform: Tumblr, for example, has a whole swathe of porn blogs, and there are untold numbers of sex bloggers writing reams of explicit text. And it has to censor YouTube, particularly if 4chan decide to flood it with porn again. Facebook could probably be let through, thanks to its strong filtering policies although right now, most mobile providers block it for under-18s anyway.

If an adult content filter allows those sites through, it fails. And if it blocks those sites, then hardly anyone will use it and it fails.

The rest of the article is well worth reading, picking up on a number of reasons such an approach would be impossible to implement effectively.

Secondly, the 'research' and 'studies' cited to justify this idea are problematic at best. Violet Blue reveals how the study from Psychologies magazine quoted in most news repots was in fact conducted on 14-16 year olds from a single North London school - hardly comprehensive data - and Ms Naughty digs into Safer Media, the Christian group who believe whole swathes of modern media are "harmful", and from whom Ms Perry gets her "compelling evidence" that porn is damaging to under-18s.

I've written before about the myth that accessing pornography has a detrimental effect on young people and society in general. Bish Training, a sex ed resource for young people, summarises:

Even the briefest look on Google Scholar will show you that there is not a lot of rigorous academic research in this area. Arguments about porn, such as arguments about sexualisation, are usually values rather than evidence based. There is certainly no consensus in the academic world about young people and porn.

I would encourage you to read what I believe (Im a practitioner, not an academic) to be the most thorough recent paper http://www.springerlink.com/content/c1k7r32gj9q72248/ It points out the lack of evidence of the extent of porn consumption and harms from previous research.

So much for evidence-based policy making. Claire Perry is quick to claim that "We are not coming at this from an anti-porn perspective," but the sketchy nature of the research backing up her proposals suggests that this is an ideological move. Her next remark clarifies this ideology: "We just want to make sure children aren't stumbling across things we don't want them to see." This isn't about the fear of children's sexuality: it's about an angry controlling impulse on the part of parents who cannot bear that their children might like anything they don't like, or have access to anything they don't approve of. To people like this the internet represents an enormous ideological threat. A 'nanny state' approach is the only way they can shut down freedom of speech and information for those who disagree with them.

Whose ideology will inform this proposed 'blacklist' of forbidden sites to be referenced by ISPs? (And who will maintain the list of 'opted-in' households? Bet Wikileaks would love the chance to share that.) 'Hardcore' pictures and video - okay. Text? Usenet groups? Fanfic? Chatrooms? Any site posting user-generated content would find itself at risk unless it implemented strict moderation policies. What about humourous sites which include obscene language? Or sex education sites like the excellent Bish Training, which includes guidance for young people about porn? Queer and trans activists are concerned that any site providing support and information about LGBT issues will be blocked - the mental health effects of which on young people could be far more devastating than those claimed to be caused by porn.

And then there's the civil liberties implications. Once a Great Firewall exists, what's to stop its expansion to include other controversial sites, or anything the government disapproves of? Maybe Maimed has recently argued that the censorship surrounding Wikileaks has always existed around sex. Once porn is banned from the internet, you can bet that other problematic content would find itself caught in the same net.

Every week, I get letters from kinky people who are grateful to me for helping them feel they are not alone. I hear from mature individuals who are only just beginning to discover the vocabulary to think about their desires, or to start to come to terms with them. I am so lucky, they tell me, to have become aware of my sexuality so young, to have accepted it and be able to find so much joy in it, and help other people make peace with themselves. Alongside the self-indulgence of creative work that turns me on, that's why I do what I do, and I wouldn't have been able to do it without the internet.

I started having sex about the same time as I got online - when I was 13. By the time I was 15 I'd started using the internet to explore sexuality and kink in a big way, but it didn't take over my life - I had many other hobbies and interests, and most of my online time was taken up with teaching myself HTML and design and creating vanity sites. I had my first serious play relationship when I was 16, which was very informed by the BDSM community I'd discovered online, and I met Tom when I was 19. I am enormously lucky to have been able to streamline my sexual development with the aid of online resources and support. If I hadn't been able to access sexual content at home, I would have made different, less well-informed choices; I might have made some very bad decisions; and I certainly wouldn't have reached a point where I could offer support and reassurance to others by my early twenties.

If you're worried about what your child is looking at online, either install some of the parental control software which is readily available, or sit with them while they browse the internet. Either way, talk to them about what they're seeing; teach them about staying safe online, give them the tools they need to question and critique what they encounter. Unlike our legislators, most UK kids are internet natives - they will easily be able to get around any controls we attempt to put in place. Trying to prevent them from accessing porn will simply increase its appeal. Ultimately, the responsibility for what we look at and how we respond to it is ours, and it falls to parents to teach that responsibility to their children, rather than dumping the hardest and most important parts of parenting onto corporations or the state.


All these things remain true, and given my audience I have little doubt that most of my readers will agree with me. Perhaps I didn't even need to write this, since today senior officials from the ISPs themselves have condemned the proposals as unworkable. But this is not the first time this idea has surfaced, and I doubt it will be the last. Thanks to the anti-porn agenda of over-anxious mothers, we have already seen our government ban certain types of consensual porn entirely. When it comes to freedom of sexual expression, we cannot trust our legislators, and we must remain vigilant. I'm willing to bet that the idea of a filtered web will come back, and when it does, we need to be ready with our arguments as to why it will not work, and cannot ever be accepted.

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Tags: in the news, Politics, rant


Let the turkey burn

Posted at 18:09 on 23 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

D and I both seemed to be in odd moods last weekend. I, after being totally on top of things all week, was fragile, overtired and crashing, but desperately trying to brave it out and not be a needy little girl. Apparently it came out sounding like I was pissed off with everything, which suggests either that I'm not as good at braving it out as I think I am, or that D is better at reading me than I think he is. Or perhaps it suggests that sometimes, what I need is to be a fragile little girl. D, after all, is one of the few people I'm genuinely comfortable being small with, so I'm not sure why I was trying to fight it so hard.

Anyway, the resulting bickering was outdone by the truly electric make-up sex that came after it. Not normally a pattern D and I find ourselves in, but our emotional vulnerability lent itself to play of a remarkable rawness and intimacy.

At one point, being pushed with breathplay, my body suddenly went into an uncontrollable panic - emotionally I was alright but in three seconds I'd gone from turned on to hyperventilating, crying and shaking (and, okay, still turned on). Credit to D: he immedately stopped, held me, took my word for it when I said it was just a physical reaction and wasn't a big deal, and was perfectly happy to pick up where we'd left off as soon as I'd regained my composure. Sometimes, being pushed until I break can make me feel just as safe as my top taking care to push me without breaking me.

After a mutually satisfying, loved-up fuck he pulled three implements out of his toybox - cane, wooden paddle and belt. I'm looking at him half going WTF, we just finished, and half delighted that we aren't done yet.

"Pick one," he smiles.

Just one? I'm disappointed. I consider. We had fun with the paddle last time, so today I fancy something different. I suspect he wants to cane me - it's not an implement he plays with often, and the fact he's got it out suggests he's in the mood. But what I really want is the belt - the liquidy warmth of leather, the sharp but glowing sensation which wraps around my bottom like a caress.

"I'm surprised," he says when I make my choice (I think he was expecting me to opt for the cane), but he humours me: the belt is laid out on the bed, the other two put to one side.

Throughout a restful evening the belt is a teasing promise of what's yet to come. I was expecting to get it later that night, but tiredness overtakes us both and I fall asleep on him around 11pm.

The next day, dinner is in the oven and somehow we end up snapping at each other again. We talk through it but he needs some time to calm down, so I flop on the bed and distract myself with my netbook. Ten minutes later I hear him come in behind me. I'm wondering what mood he's in when I feel his touch, an affectionate stroke along my back. "Permission to glomp?" he asks hesitantly, and no sooner have I granted it I'm engulfed in a whole body hug. Well, there are worse ways to say sorry. I love the feel of his weight resting on me, and tell him there's no hard feelings by bumping my arse playfully against his hips from below.

Which is how I came to be facedown on the bed, jeans unbuttoned by him and tugged down over my bottom, which is lifted by a couple of strategically placed pillows and practically tingling with anticipation. The enormous mirrors alongside his bed had been making me feel self-conscious of my fuller figure all weekend, so I hid my face from them (as I had while over his knee the day before) and wondered if my over-emotional self would be able to cope with the thrashing I'd chosen.

Perhaps he was wondering the same; the first three strokes were light, testing the waters, warming us up. I breathed deeper and murmured my assent. The gentleness of his approach meant that when the harder strokes fell I lapped them up. I felt cocooned in love and security, safe to yelp and hiss through my teeth as the pain nudged against my thresholds, safe to moan into the bed when they hit that perfect sweet point of simultaneous pain and pleasure.

When the fire in my bottom was well and truly lit he paused and gave me a rub that almost made me purr. I felt like he could keep going all afternoon, except of course that dinner was still in the oven, and in fact I should have started putting the veg on ten minutes ago. "Shall we reconvene later?" he asked, not wanting to ruin the meal I'd started, but I had absolutely no desire to interrupt proceedings.

I was reminded of the Ann Summers ad I saw at Victoria station recently - a lady wearing sexy negligee and the slogan LET THE TURKEY BURN. At that precise moment I felt wholeheartedly in agreement with the sentiment. Let it burn. Dinner could wait. I had other priorities.

So D nipped out to turn the oven off, the veg was left sitting in cold water, and my bottom got cooked instead.

He re-appeared in front of me (I was still stretched out on the bed with my jeans around my knees and my arse glowing pink), grinning like a kid who's done something they shouldn't, holding up the two rejected implements. His grin widened as he waited for me to get the joke. "Pick one."

So that was his game. I hid my amusement and excitement with my best sardonic look. "Am I choosing what else I get, or am I choosing what else I get first?"

He beamed at me, delighted with his surprise and wanting to string it out, then relented. "First."

"Alright." I briefly compared the relative sensations and marking produced by belt-cane-paddle or belt-paddle-cane. The belt had left me nicely tender and the paddle is a very blunt instrument. I opted for nuance. "Cane."

He was surprised again, but given I'd thought I was done, that made two of us.

He made me thank him for the cane strokes, but not count them, so I don't know how many I got. They hurt, though, more than I'd expected after that languorous, sensual belting; every stroke a jolt of sting that fizzed and itched along the line of the welt, making me jump, making it impossible to relax. I hung onto the rail at the foot of the bed and gasped my way through a caning that pushed me more than I expected.

It had the desired effect, though. By the time he finished I was soaking wet. As he stood in front of me again and unzipped his jeans I pounced on his cock hungrily, eager and grateful. The pleasure of feeling it slide against my tongue made me close my eyes in bliss.

Skip ahead a bit (past me on my back with my head hanging off the foot of the bed so that he could slide deeper into my throat, stopping my airway - but not making me panic this time) and before long I definitely wanted to be fucked more than I wanted the paddle. I may have mentioned this aloud, because D tutted and thwarted my impatience with a reminder of earlier negotiations. "Mmm, not yet - you have to shave first, and put stockings and heels on, and all sorts of things."

He was referring to online chats in which we'd agreed that I'd shave my pubic hair for him over Christmas. I mildly prefer the appearance of trimmed hair, but I like to keep my labia and crack shaved for ease of access and silkier sensations. D has a strong preference for ladies and gentlemen who are completely shaved, a bias I'd find less forgivable if he didn't keep himself smooth in turn. It's too much faff for me to indulge all the time, but I enjoy variety, and I don't mind obliging him occasionally. If nothing else, I can usually expect to be rewarded with pleasingly enthusiastic cunnilingus.

I needed no further prompting. I jumped up to grab a razor and towel and headed to the bathroom.

It's strange - if you described this situation to me I might expect to feel somewhat indignant about having my pleasure forestalled until I'd corrected some lacking aspect of my personal grooming. Perhaps I should have been annoyed with his presumption. But as I perched on the side of the bath, shower foam mingling with the slippery evidence of my arousal, I felt supremely content. The act of revealing newly bare, sensitive flesh seemed remarkably like unwrapping a present for him, and I felt a similarly happy anticipation at the prospect of pleasing him. I hummed to myself as the razor slid delicately over my swollen labia, enjoying my awareness of the cane welts striping my arse. At that moment, cheerfully obeying his orders with a sore red bottom, I felt very, very loved.


We didn't get round to the paddle before dinner. Not that I'm complaining - events proved more than satisfactory (and so, when we eventually reheated it, did dinner). It wasn't until I was getting ready to leave that I was reminded of our unfinished business. I'd already missed one train due to not being ready in time, and was belatedly packing and trying to find my netbook case. I went into the bedroom to look for it. A little while later D came in to ask how I was getting on, and raised an eyebrow at the discovery of me on the bed, checking twitter on my netbook.

"You've packed all your things up already, yes?"

"Nearly!" I chirped, jumping up and hastily scooping up evidence to the contrary.

He looked at me. I looked innocently back, jamming netbook, socks and phone charger into my rucksack.

He picked up the paddle.

It was a fair cop. I bent over the end of the bed and lowered my jeans for my third and final dose of the weekend. I received several rapid, crisp whacks with no warm up which had an effect similar to that of a bucket of cold water. I squirmed and yelped throughout, a far cry from the submissive pleasure with which I'd taken the belt a few hours earlier. His raised eyebrows at my wimpy reactions made me wish I could turn my masochism on like a tap, but the paddling served its purpose. Suitably chastened, I tugged up my jeans and finished my packing with a smile on my face. I do like it when tops keep their promises.

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Tags: belt, cane, D, dominance and submission, kink, other pictures, paddle



Posted at 13:48 on 27 Dec 2010 by Pandora / Blake

Merry Christmas and season's greetings! I've had a lovely few days at home with the boys, making, eating and drinking impressive quantities of delicious things, enjoying (and gently mocking) the Doctor Who Christmas Special, sitting round the fire playing silly parlour games, inviting friends over and all those other traditional midwinter activities. Hope you've had a restful and cheering time, whatever you've been up to.

D and I have also taken advantage of the time off work to jump each other's bones at every opportunity. We've had late-night Christmas Eve sex when I was exhausted and in pain and he methodically and selflessly took his time in making me feel better; tipsy post-prandial Christmas Day sex, giggly and uninhibited after too many champagne cocktails; and lazy extended Boxing Day sex, dipping in and out throughout a long mellow afternoon (and amusing Tom no end when he unwittingly disturbed us a couple of times). I particularly enjoyed having my breasts slapped with a small piece of wood D found which remarkably resembled a ruler.


Wishing you all a happy holidays, however you're spending them, and that you get to enjoy some quality time with your loved ones. Hope you've had as much fun unwrapping your presents as we have ours!

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Tags: D, Photos, seasonal spankings


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