Posted at 23:25 on 1 Mar 2011
by Pandora / Blake
Hello! I've had a brilliant few days away, including several kinky escapades which I will describe to you in due course. In the meantime, I have a growing collection of links I want to share with you in the wake of Lady Porn Day, so I thought I'd shove them all in a single post so I don't get overwhelmed by blog drafts.
I really like this mini-comic Dirty Magazines by Heather Bradley about a young woman's first encounters with porn.
Obviously, I don't agree with the "no-one gets hurt" item in the narrator's definition of porn she's comfortable viewing, but I like the emphasis on the development of personal criteria. And you could more or less re-formulate it as "no-one gets harmed", using conventional BDSM distinctions between "hurt" and "harm".
MayMay has written an excellent article unpacking the concept of "gaze" in porn, titled Breaking Pornography's Fourth Wall: Erotic Satisfaction as a Function of Gaze. Both article and comments are well worth reading.
Put simply, a gaze identifies a viewer, or a gazer. When a womans curves linger on-screen, as they so often do in cinema, or when a picture of, say, a skinny white womanbaring it all is shown, as it so often is in pornography, the viewer is commonlyand often rightlyassumed to be a heterosexual male.
However, this conceptualization of gaze is limiting. Knowing who the gazer is tells us very little about how they are gazing. Part of understanding a persons pornographic tastes relies on understanding whether their gaze is objectifying or embodying. An objectifying gaze is one in which the gazerthe consumer of the pornographic artifactimagines themselves as observing the model in a pornographic image, while an embodying gaze is one in which they imagine themselves as being the model. Read more »
3.The Irrationality of the Anti-Sex Lobby
by Brooke Magnanti on Freedom in a Puritan Age
The notion that exposure to sexualised imagery is a) different now than it has been in the past, and b) causes damage to children as a result, is widely assumed but not proven. Most of the reviews on the topic rely on data from adults viewing pornography, which is clearly not the same thing as children seeing a Bratz doll. In any case the results from adult studies are mixed, with a tendency to indicate that pornography may somewhat exacerbate, but does not itself cause, negative effects. The hype about sexualisation seems to assume a slippery slope that might not even have a fulcrum in the first place. Read more »
Finally, here's a refreshingly balanced take on porn legislation on the Guardian's Comment is Free, by Kristina Lloyd
- Why doesn't Jacqui Smith take a relaxed view of pornography?
And what might happen if people watched porn for hours on end? The implication is that this would be personally harmful and socially destabilising, a conclusion based in part on the notion that sexual pleasure is inherently corrupting. A great deal of lazy thinking, myth making, poor research and anecdotal evidence surrounds debates on the sex industry. A recent Cambridge debate asking "Does pornography provide a good public service?" saw prominent, anti-porn campaigner, Gail Dines, taken to task for supporting her argument with shoddy stats from unreliable sources. The Lilith report of 2003 used inaccurate statistics to conclude that an increase in lap-dancing clubs in Camden led to an increase in rape. The report, challenged by Brooke Magnanti, remains influential, presumably because to many people it sounds right. Read more »
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Posted at 20:17 on 2 Mar 2011
by Pandora / Blake
Welcome to e[lust] - Your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether youre looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, youre going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #24? Start with the rules, check out the schedule and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!
~ This Weeks Top Three Posts ~
Roadmaps of Consent - I fucking love consent. I love safewords. I can be much more cruel, and push much harder, if I trust my partner to tell me when I go too far.
Staying Safe - One cock, from one man, missing one condom, ultimately led to my brothers death. And that sucks.
Flying the Friendly Skies - One button on her sweater was undone, there was a rip in her hose, scratches on her boots, and her hair was carelessly pinned back with stray wisps of hair escaping. There was a curious flavor of soiling about her, something a bit dirty and unkempt.
~ Featured Post (Lillys Pick) ~
Labels and my thoughts... - In the past year and a half I have gone from being someone that was lost, without identity that fit, rattling around inside myself to someone that has names for what they are.
~ e[lust] Editress: Dangerous Lilly
See also: Pleasurists #116 and #117 for all your sex toy review needs
Kink & Fetish
5 Kinky Toys from the Dollar Store
Alive in my Skin
Digitalized for Posterity
He ripped a string of orgasms from me, and then ramped it up
Orgasms, Spoons Rests, and Fishnets! (The Play Party)
Punishment, humiliation and bondage
Schoolgirl in Saturday Detention
Steeling The Show
A Little Night Music
Crisp White Linens
dancing with (& then kinkily fucking) the dj
In the Mirror
My First Anal Sex
Schoolgirl Part 1
You're Gonna Keep My Soul
Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships
A Doggie Kind of Love
Ashamed?! Are You Kidding Me?
Giggles, Groans and Panting
I Can Imagine How You Feel
Sex As Love
6 Moves Men Need to Be Sex Gods in the Bedroom
The COME HITHER QUIVER -or- How To Squirt
What I Want
Sex News, Interviews, Politics & Humor
Kink Network Announces the Opening of Their Adult Blog Host Kinky-Blogging.com
Porn, degradation, and Khan Tusion
Women With Two Vaginas
Kink, virginity and big-tittied whores
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Posted at 19:50 on 8 Mar 2011
by Pandora / Blake
Today I spent an hour scrubbing wooden floorboards, naked.
This was an intersection of many different aims. Most pressingly, the floor needed scrubbing. I also have a client who wanted to see a video of me cleaning floors in the nude. This was pretty convenient, as usually when I'm doing tedious chores I fantasise about being a hapless slave or scullery maid, mistreated and virtuous, forced to do boring housework rather than chasing her dreams. Ironic, really, that I have bucketloads of freedom, and my dreams mostly consist of making porn in which I am rather less free.
I decided that scrubbing the floor naked would be much more fun if I'd recently been beaten, so I may as well make a short film for my own site as well as the custom clip for my client. Sadly, radiators and plug sockets around the walls meant an actual Victorian maid scenario would have been somewhat unconvincing. But that's okay, because it gave me an excuse to break the fourth wall and make a film about the act of fantasising, not the fantasy itself.
Fittingly, today is International Woman's Day - a good day to make consensual D/s porn in which my boyfriend makes my fantasies come true. In the story, I'm meant to be scrubbing the floor on Saturday, and am not looking forward to the prospect - but when I come downstairs to start work, I discover that Tom has already cleared out the furniture and swept the floor for me, and is waiting looking rather dashing in a period waistcoat and cravat. My Victorian maid's uniform is waiting on a chair for me. It's his present to me, knowing how my mind tends to wander while I'm doing housework and wanting to make the chore more fun for both of us. I get dressed up in my maid's outfit, he gives me some lovely marks with the cane, and then I get undressed again (so as not to soil the costume) and set to work feeling warm, floaty and very loved.
I scrubbed for an hour, and the work went by ever so quickly - distracted by the rough wood under my bare knees, the cool air between my thighs and the glowing welts on my bottom. I can definitely recommend this as an approach to housework, if you can manage it!
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Posted at 23:13 on 10 Mar 2011
by Pandora / Blake
My discipline deal with D (how's that for an alliterative beginning?) has been revealing so far. To my surprise, I've pretty much kept within my drinking limits, apart from one week which included two birthday parties and two other boozy social occasions.¹ And my gym schedule has been easy to maintain, at least when I'm at home and not gallivanting around the country. But the daily physio exercises I'm meant to do to help my long-term back pain - day after day, despite my best efforts, I'm failing to find the time.
I tried doing them last thing before bed; but then by the time I've finished for the day, I'm flattened and just need my sleep. We haven't tried first thing in the morning yet as my morning routine is already longer than it should be, and I don't want half the day to disappear before I get down to work. I tried fitting them in as and when, but my schedule is already squeezed to bursting and I seem to never have a space of time when there isn't something urgent needing doing. D and I sat down and talked about it and agreed that a mid-afternoon break might work, since an excuse to get up from my desk and move around will help my back in any case. I have an alarm set for 15:00, but it always seems to go off when I'm in the middle of something super-important. My new idea is to set the snooze on it to half an hour, rather than five minutes, so chances are I'll have finished whatever I was busy with by the time it goes off again.
I'm encouraged by my success in the other areas, and determined to break the back of this one (as it were). In the meantime, however, my record is fairly shoddy. The last time D and I settled the account, I was due 48 whacks with the bathbrush for missed physio exercises; a bonus 6 for missing a number of days in a row; plus 12 for going a week without a booze-free day. Hardly a glowing report. We talked about ways I could try and do better, but I did feel genuinely disappointed with myself, and D, while gentle, was not exactly impressed.
So the tone was very different from our last punishment session. He asked me to undress completely, and as I lay on the bed I knew this wasn't going to be pleasant. D's manner was calm, but a little cold. The strokes for missed back exercises were so numerous that he didn't give them to me in sets of six, this time; just one extended application that did not care how much I wriggled or cried.
I did cry, before we were halfway through. The tears squeezed themselves out onto the pillow and it felt good to surrender to the pain, to our collective disappointment, the shared sense that this punishment was thoroughly deserved. The last six, bonus strokes for missing my back exercises too many days in a row, were hard, and if I hadn't cried I might have screamed.
But the worst came last: twelve hard whacks with the brush on my thighs. He delivered them with a clinical, even pace, starting at the top of one thigh and working down it for six, then back up the next. The pain was incredible. I gripped the rail at the head of the bed for dear life, willed my legs to stay still and not kick, and sobbed.
I felt better afterwards, though. Admittedly rather sorry for myself, but less burdened by the knowledge of my failure.
I'm sorry to say, however, that after all that the intervening weeks have been even busier, and my good intentions have continued to fail. I'm still not giving up - I want my health to improve, and I'm determined to find a way of making this system work for me. But the next accounting is likely to be another painful one.
1. I could perhaps blame Emma-Jane for the jugs of mojitos, but that would go against the spirit of spankee solidarity.²
2. Which is, of course, Bacardi.
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Posted at 22:19 on 17 Mar 2011
by Pandora / Blake
I've just been doing a bit of catching up on spanking blogs after a week or so in which my vanilla life completely took over. It's not been a long break, but I haven't really thought about kink much at all, and despite my extensive collection of drafts and post ideas I'm finding it a bit tough to get back into the blogging headspace.
So, by way of easing back into it, here's a round up of spanking photos which have recently caught my eye for one reason or another...
Chelsea Pfeiffer spanking Sinn Sage on Spank Sinn
I love Sinn's posture of surrender, her bowed head and the elegant line of her back. I love the natural light in these shots (as in much of Sinn's work), the subtle lines of light and shadow across the thighs, and the way the sunlight catches the line of the strap, naturally calling attention to it.
Irelynn Logeen spanking Leia-Ann Woods on Triple A Spanking
Who doesn't like old-style Girl Guide uniforms? I love them, and I also love candid shots of actors having fun in between the serious posing. Spanking shoots are mostly, in my experience, extraordinarily camp, silly affairs, and it's always nice to get a glimpse of the fun reality behind the fantasy.
Mr King spanking Ivy and Brooke at Real Spankings Institute
I'm not so keen on the composition of this one - a landscape picture would have worked better to get all three figures in - but I love the facial expressions of the two girls.
Unnamed top (man, when will companies learn not to do this!) spanking Sophia Nova on Dallas Spanks Hard
The first thing that struck me was the perfect bubble curve of Sophia's pinkened bottom. Once I was looking, I noticed her shapely legs; the elegant lift of one foot; the intensity in the top's expression, and the incredibly real look on her face. Flushed, slightly sweaty - breathless - absorbed - overwhelmed. It's halfway between distress and ecstasy. I love feeling like that.
Ashley spanking Kay Richards on My Spanking Roommate
I love the impression of motion in this one, the sense that Kay has just been tipped, indignant, over Ashley's lap. Kay also has the most deliciously rounded bottom which is shown off perfectly by this low angle. Lovely!
Unnamed models on Cutie Spankee, in "The Teacher's Humiliation"
Like all the photography to come out of Cutie Spankee, the lighting, colouring and composition in this shot are exceptional, a cut above most of the images that come out of the UK and US spanking studios. But this image leapt out at me, not only because of the beauty of the models, but because of its surreality. Clicking through and reading the scene synopsis I learn that one teacher is being humiliated by another by being forced to wear tight student gym shorts. But at first glance, it's deliciously weird: the inexplicable stepladder, placing the spankee's bottom almost level with the top's head; the bizarre combination of tight shorts with smart jacket; the dramatic yet completely unnecessary pot plant in the background. Out of context, it's dreamlike in its weirdness, and I find that very exciting. Anything could happen!
Leia-Ann Woods spanking Kami Robertson, Emma Bishop and Donna Davenport on Northern Spanking in "Behind the Bike Sheds". I didn't initially realise that the first photo was from the same set as the second two, since it didn't include the distinctive purple blazers (I would have been SO happy if those had been the uniform at my school).
There's lots of things I like about these pics. The atmospheric, nostalgic set and props really work for me. I love the wooden chest under the desk and the red leather teacher's chair.
The first shot is a great three-figure composition - the cane slicing a line across the middle, pointing from Ms Woods (who is given classic cinematic right-hand dominance in the frame) to the two girls. Kami's gracefully vulnerable body language. Donna's curious, slightly tense over-shoulder peek.
Ms Woods looks stunning in the second photo, directing a witheringly beautiful "you're next" look at Donna over the hapless girl across her lap.
And the third one caps it off - a between-takes candid shot of spanker and spankee grinning at each other while Leia-Ann blows on her hand to cool it. The implication of the hard hand spanking she's just given makes this behind-the-scenes shot, for me, one of the hottest of all.
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Posted at 18:01 on 23 Mar 2011
by Pandora / Blake
Room 33 Erika Lust from boolab on Vimeo.
This is another acclaimed short film from Erika Lust, the talented feminist producer who brought us Handcuffs. Minimal, tantalising, the film follows a couple checking into a hotel with a difference. This five minute short is a conceptual piece - it's more about stimulating the imagination than gratification on camera - and the concept is absolutely delightful. I want to stay in that hotel! Doesn't everyone?
It also includes some hot F/m moments, highly erotic glimpses of an MMF threesome, and enough subtext and charged glances to fill a fair few fantasies. I'd love to have seen the extended version of this film, but I admire it for what it is - a condensed, lust-provoking snapshot into an extremely hot, and rather kinky, idea.
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Posted at 01:39 on 25 Mar 2011
by Pandora / Blake
Frustrated by not being able to run any other processes while editing video, I recently souped up my four year old Dell to a whopping 4GB of RAM - the maximum I can get without replacing the motherboard. It's much more capable of multitasking as a result, but file conversions and rendering still take bloody ages. I set the "Scrubbing a floor naked for 60 minutes" video I was putting together for my client rendering at about midday, and it's still going now. Admittedly that's an hour's film at DVD quality, but still. I need a new PC.
Since I'm not going to be able to sleep as long as my computer is whirring fit to take off, I may as well tell you about the spanking I got this evening. D and I left it far too long between dealing with my accumulated misdemeanours. It's been a horrendously busy month for me, so I've had little time for exercise; that, combined with snatched, tired time together meant that I'd built up a hefty score to settle. As he was doing the maths I groaned and asked if we could deal with some of it next time. I didn't expect him to go for it, but he did, and when I discovered that the total was over a hundred swats with the brush, I was relieved.
He let me go over his knee this time, and I was grateful - the physical contact made me less afraid, although it didn't really make it hurt less. I was due 42 this time for missed exercises, with 48 still to come; plus 12 for two missed check-ins. The 42 came in long, brisk sequences, more than six at a time, at least it felt like it; possibly in tens. Although I had the reassuring warmth of his thighs under my hips I didn't even get a rub inbetween sets, or a word from him, until we were most of the way through. I am developing a healthy fear of that brush, I can tell you; he doesn't even have to use it hard and it stings like hell.
I found myself experimenting with ways of processing the pain. Holding my breath. Clenching my teeth. Stuffing the duvet cover in my mouth. Kicking, yelling, cursing, hissing through my teeth. Taking deep breaths. Howling. Nothing helped me get through it except time and endurance, and then I was hanging limply over his lap, out of breath, amazed at the ability of that piece of wood to break through all my experience and enthusiasm to render me completely helpless.
The last twelve, for failing to make my daily check-in twice, were hard. I opted for the "yelling" approach this time.
Then it was over, and after a very welcome rub I got an affectionate smack, which my whole body responded to by going yes! That's more like it! That I can deal with! I communicated this to D, and got a lovely short, firm hand-spanking in return which, bizarrely, felt like balm to my blazing cheeks.
D reminded me that my health is more important than almost anything else, and when I'd conceded his point we settled into some serious cuddling. My arse was glowing hot with two hard round spots in the middle of each cheek. I huffed and exclaimed and took the piss out of myself for being such a wimp, and he tried to make me feel better:
"Whhhyyyyy did I sign up to this, I am so stupid."
"Because you're a good girl. And you want to be a better girl."
I bemoaned the strange effect the brush had on me - it's so weird that I can take canings so readily and this just flips me out, I have no way of processing it calmly. "Actually," I said, half in jest, "I could do with a caning right now, that'd make me feel like less of a wuss."
"Well, there's one right here," he observed.
So I lay over a pillow on the bed and offered him my throbbing arse, and D took advantage of my already being warmed up to thrash me soundly with the 12mm dragon cane that had been standing by the bed.
I didn't count the strokes - 24? 30? My whole body welcomed the familiar, beloved sensation. I breathed into it, bathed in it, until I was awash with pleasure.
And all was well with the world.
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