Sugasm #113

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #114? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
A Different Kind Of Authority For Sex Bloggers
“As we sex workers, sex bloggers, and adult business folks swim in our ponds or spin in our micro universes & connect with others, we continue to build authority.”

Of sex and strippers
“At one point she was straddling Girlfriend’s right leg, grinding her thigh against Girlfriend’s clit through her jeans.”

Wink Wink, Nudge Nudge
Her comments were something to the effect of, “No one wanted to see me twirl with tassels ~ on fire or not ~ when some girl was going to sit on stage and insert things into herself.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Kofola

Editor’s Choice
Interview with Paul Festa about circumcision

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Aurel Sex. - The Husband
Cock Whore
Decibels
Dreams are funny things
The Erotic Review
I Love A Rainy Night
The night I was initiated on Frat Row
Opera Glasses
Score
Skin, breath, desire, rhythm
Uninvited
Yesterday’s Sweet Blowjob

Sex Work
Catalina loves Giving Spankings

NSFW Pics & Videos
Mizuki Horii
Andie Valentino (Twistys)
Half-Nekkid Thursday: View from MY Back Row
Mindy Main Sexy and Topless
A Very Shibari New Year From Marky D. Sade

Sex Advice
13 Ways To Use What You Have To Build Intimacy
Celebrate 2008: The Year of the Pussy!
Just Seeing My Girlfriend Turns Me On! Is This Normal?!
Resolve to Improve Your Sex Life in 2008

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
2007 Wanking Totals
Discovering the Art of Masturbation
Hair-B-Gone
I fucked this guy once …without dirty talk!?!
Taking One For the Team

Sex News, Reviews & Interviews
The Hello Kitty Vibrator - Battery-Powered Evil!!!
Panties Second Only To Auto Industry
Real Doll Rentals
Working Sex: Sex Workers Write About a Changing Industry

BDSM & Fetish
All Tied Up and No Where To Go
Am I A Masochist?
Daddy Play
The Descent Begins
More piss slut practice
Rough Fuck
A Seven Orgasm Day
Two-thirds
Who knew Uncle Sam was kinky?

TRUE EROTIC TALES - Series 2

TRUE EROTIC TALES - Series 2

TRUE EROTIC TALES are non-fictional erotic essays written by authors of today.














WHAT TURNS YOU ON? WHAT TURNS YOU OFF?

Jeremy Edwards
Jeremy's MySpace

Like most writers, I respond very strongly to words. They can be so evocative and powerful--and, of course, erotic. So one of the things that really turns me on is to hear a woman talk about things that are sexy to me. When the context is directly sexual--e.g., hearing my wife tell me, in bed and with recourse to the frankest language, what she wants or how good something feels--then the erotic effect is no-brainer.

But words can also turn me on when I'm out in the world, hearing the incidental speech of friends, acquaintances, and strangers. I'm so easy that just the word "sex" often turns me on. (I suppose this would make me the ideal consumer, were it not for the fact that I hardly ever buy anything.)

Moreover, the speaker's intention doesn't necessarily have to be sexual for erotically-charged words, concepts, or even figures of speech to titillate me. For example, I am a great admirer of the female behind, and if I hear a woman refer to her ass, even in a nonsexual way, my ears (etc.) will likely perk up. Something as mundane as "I need to get off my ass and do it" or "Fresh-squeezed orange juice, my ass!" can make me think, "Mmm . . . her *ass*."Though it's just an expression, the imagery is sometimes too strong for me to resist (or to want to resist).

I also happen to find peeing sexy (yes, there's a hint of that in my fiction now and again). Here too, casual use of the relevant vocabulary can be a turn-on for me. So if a woman describes how funny or exciting something was by saying, metaphorically, "I was wetting my pants," she's guaranteed to have me thinking about the image she's thereby evoked rather than whatever she was really trying to tell me about. (I should emphasize that I do realize actual loss of control like that would, in most circumstances, not be sexy or pleasant; what I'm responding to erotically is the choice of words when the speaker is *not* talking literally.)

I don't think I've ever actually heard a woman exclaim "Fuck me!" as a nonsexual expletive, though I know from the print world that people sometimes do so. If I ever encounter that in real life, I'm sure that a movie will immediately begin rolling in my mind.



Rachel Green
Rachel's website

My cheek is pressed against fur. Mink, rabbit, ermine - it doesn't matter; it's the texture of the fur against my flesh that counts. I don't care that it's not PC. My vegetarian, waste separation, plastic recycling life has nothing to do with my bare-breasted bondage sexuality.

This does.

This is sex. This is hot, sweaty bodies writhing naked on a pile of antique coats thrown carelessly on the bed. I need this. This is my relief, my refuge from the daily mundane.

I said we were writhing. That's not strictly true. She was writhing, I was pretty much staying in one position. The ropes and leather made sure of that.

Maybe it's a hang up from a childhood of forced Catholicism. I can't relax into it unless I have the freedom of bondage. "It's not my fault. I can't help it." It's an illusion of course. I asked for this... begged for this...but in the guilt-expunging bondage I can pretend. "I'm a good girl really."

My arms are bound in a sleeve behind my back, my ankles to the bed posts with my soles flat against the tailboard. She touches me, sending a shiver through my body and a flicker of the wave on the edge of consciousness. The wave will build if she continues, reaching a crescendo that will leave me sobbing and wet and replete and grateful and, probably, sore.

It doesn't matter. I can feel the waves lapping against the shore of my orgasm. Muscles tense. She knows I'm close because my legs become taut as bow strings; toes pressed against the tailboard and my pelvis lifted into the air as her thumbs dig into me. In. In. In. Her palm beats against my mound. My muscles shake with the ninth wave and I sob...please... through the gag.

As the beach is washed away by the tsunami I collapse onto the fur. Soft fur.

It doesn't matter what kind.


Bobby Michaels
Bobby's website

What Turns You On?

First of all, a man who is just who he is, who is comfortable in his own skin, who doesn't "put on airs" or try to impress anyone. A man who exudes the confidence that says, "I know who I am and I
know what I want." A man confident enough to lay in my arms, seeking comfort just as I do in his.

The first physical thing I notice is his eyes. The eyes tell you everything. Cruel, cunning, gentle, kind - it's all there to read. I love the looks that come from those eyes: The almost pleading look when he's about to cum; the shy but proud look when he shows you his most prized possession - his hard cock - for the first time; The commanding, dominating look when he wants sexual relief - now! Most of all, the overpowering look when you see love and desire for you in them.

His deep voice, especially with a soft southern or southwestern accent.

His gentle stroking of my head and hair as I worship his cock with my lips, tongue and mouth. His hands grasping my head, not so gently, as he reaches orgasm. The deep groans of intense pleasure when I do something that particularly pleases him. His teeth, gently (or not so gently) nibbling from the back of my neck and down the back of my arm or biting all over the cheeks of my butt. His mouth, sucking hard on my tits. His tongue burying itself in my hole or mine in his.

Him fucking me, hard, deep and long, grabbing my shoulders for leverage as he uses me. His deep voice saying dirty, sexy, nasty things while he fucks me, while I suck his cock, while I eat his ass.

Him taking a long, hot piss all over me. And letting me do the same to him.

Above all, his scent - at his neck, in his pits, his groin, his balls and his ass. The rich raw scent of a sweaty man. His personal body scent. When I lie in his bed alone, I wrap myself in his sheets and push my face into his pillow to be surrounded by it.

What Turns You Off?

As much as I love a man's scent, too much of a good thing is bad - no going a week without a shower. The worst scent of all, however, is bad breath - the kind that can knock a buzzard off a shit wagon.

Arrogance. Confidence is a turn on but arrogance is a deal breaker.

Flowery, overblown compliments. Just say, "Fuck! You suck dick good!"

Effeminacy in a man, except for small, slender males between eighteen and twenty-five.

Summation

I didn't mention his eye color, hair color, body type, hairy or smooth, muscular or not, or the size of his cock. These are meaningless to me. The real "turn on" is the man himself. The real "turn off" is the man himself.

Brenna Lyons
Brenna's website

What turns me on? Eye contact is important; the eyes are the windows to the soul, and as long as your eyes are locked, you know you have his undivided attention. Deep kisses. They can be slow kisses or involved ones, but deep is a must. Skin to skin touching. There's nothing quite like getting really involved, mind and body. If we're both immersed, it's nearly a given that I'm going to have a great time. Being experimental is fun, and I'm all for a little adventure,but neither is as important as that simple connection.

What turns me off? I'm not a fan of pain. That's first and foremost. If I get hurt during sex, it's nearly a given that my arousal is going to end right there. By that, I don't mean any pain, since I get off on the occasional love bite, nips at the earlobe, the pull of restraints and such. What I absolutely do not get off on is real pain. I'm not the kind to enjoy lashing or spanking. Sorry. Had enough of the real thing, in my life, so I don't want to incorporate it into my sex life.

Since I like us to be on the same page and engaged in each other, if my husband is out of sorts, it's going to kill the mood for me. If something's not working, I'd rather just move on to something else and not have him upset about it. To paraphrase Wanda Sykes, "Men get off easily. Sometimes women get halfway in and realize it's just not going to happen for them tonight." Women have to be there mentally/emotionally, as well as physically. That's nothing for a man to get irritated about. Just accept that she's giving you a good time and take it gracefully. A woman does not have to orgasm at every sexual encounter.

Bryn Colvin
Bryn's website

I've been accused of being an ice queen by people who see my surfaces but do not know me well. I am not immediately physically responsive. Bodily arousal doesn't happen for me in a conventional way. Then, I'm not interested in the quick kicks and releases of purely physical interaction. Perhaps if I was, it would work for me. I burn slowly, but very hot and very fierce, given the right circumstances. For those who can turn me on, I am a wild and generous lover.

Arousal begins in the mind for me, and in the ever shifting world of my emotions. I can remain utterly unmoved by physical contact if my head and heart aren't engaged. In fact, the idea of anything sexual without that mental and emotional action turns me off completely. Hot sex is only ever scorching for me if my intellect and feelings have been thoroughly stimulated first. Don't even think about touching me if you don't know how to melt me with words, seduce me with skills, passions or actions that do not pertain directly to my body.

What raises my pulse is contact with other people. By this I do not mean anything slight or superficial. It has to be deep and profoundly meaningful, bringing me in so close I almost know what the other person is thinking. Often it takes me years to forge this kind of relationship, but it's worth waiting for. Intense interactions, brought about through shared creativity, ritual, music, walking, dancing, - there are many possibilities. Make me laugh, or cry, or really think and you're in with a chance of bedding me.

The other thing that fires my imagination (and therefore my desires) is trust. I'm fascinated by power exchange scenarios, but not by traditional Dominant/submissive roles. Having my life entirely in someone else's hands arouses me. Equally, taking control for someone else is a powerful aphrodisiac. It doesn't have to be an overtly sexual situation either. Play fighting turns me on, especially with swords. To do that safely but still have it be exciting takes a lot of trust and mutual knowledge. It also requires the participants to really focus in on each other.

Turn offs for me involve sex with no mental or emotional fireworks. Consequently most porn is a non-starter. I've had some strange propositions in my time - offers to buy my used underwear, to participate in threesomes, to urinate on people - which I hurried away from because it was just about the sex. I'm the same with what I read. If it sounds like 'insert body part A into orifice B' I'm out of there. There are plenty of other unconventional things I've enthusiastically agreed to because they've been driven by passion. I can get off on all kinds of kink and depravity so long as it has soul and take considerable sexual pleasure from emotive but non-physical exchanges. Apathy leaves me cold but I respond in kind to true passion.

Jacqueline Applebee
Jacqueline's website

Arrogance is a huge turn-off for me. When the possession of power makes people treat others disrespectfully, I just shrink away. The stereotype of a wealthy businessman or woman, ordering their minions about as if they were nothing, makes me want to run in the opposite direction. Money may impress me, but it has never, ever turned me on. So with that said, I find that dignity, and a sense of nobility is a big turn on for me. People don't have to be high-born, or well-connected, but if they know how to be gallant, and want to treat me like a goddess, it just does something to me, and I melt into a gooey mess.

The spoken word is something that can turn me on unexpectedly. A close friend recently read "My love is like a red, red rose" by Robbie Burns, whilst we spoke on the phone. We had previously been talking about everyday matters, when he suddenly broke into a Scottish accent, and read that beautiful poem to me. I found my mouth going slack, and all coherent thoughts simply left my mind. I was a goner.

On the physical side, I find eyes incredibly seductive. A shy gaze can turn me on, like flicking a switch. When someone looks at me, as if they haven't eaten for three days, and I'm a big sticky chocolate cake, I want to drag them off and ravage them. Intense desirous looks from someone across the room, makes me want to sink to my knees, and open wide...

Gwen Masters
Gwen's blog

It started out with the guy in high school, the one with the dark hair that was long enough to fall over his dark eyes, the biceps that were too big to be contained by the sleeves of his t-shirt, and the torch-red Vette in the parking lot. He was gorgeous, the perfect bad-boy, almost unattainable.

I didn't care. I wasn't in love with him. I was in love with his car.

My first lustful thoughts all involved horsepower. A man who could handle a big-ass truck was sexier than anything else. I loved the sleek little sports cars, but they were nothing compared to that big farm trucks, the ones with the tall tires, the dirty beds, and the bench seat big enough for two...even if those two bodies were horizontal and generating some horsepower of their own.

When I turned twenty or so and discovered Nashville, those guitar slingers were what got under my skin. I chose carefully -- they had to not only know how to handle the axe, they had to have the attitude to match. There was nothing like taking the show behind the scenes, fucking him until daybreak, then listening to him compose another song -- the physical meeting the spiritual.

Those early experiences taught me that my big turn-ons aren't necessarily bedroom techniques, toys that make me drool, or even those muscles that make me take a second glance. It's all about the attitude. Show me a man with enough confidence to be called cocky, a love of experimentation, an openness about what he likes, a creativity that keeps things interesting, and I'll show you my intense appreciation.

What turns me off? Again, it comes down to everything that matters before we hit the sheets. A lack of responsibility, a boatload of lies, a dismissive attitude -- all of these things will make me
ignore even the most gorgeous man on the planet. If there's nothing of integrity inside him, I certainly don't want him inside me -- in any way.

Once we do get into the bedroom, the turn-ons are endless. If I already want everything that makes up who he is inside, then his body is going to become an addictive playground, and nothing is off-limits. With a man I respected and trusted, I learned to love leather and ropes. I learned the thrill of a single rose petal, the shiver value of a whispered endearment, and on the flip-side, the delight of a harsh order or a good, hard spank against my thigh. I learned not to be turned off by anything, but to embrace everything as a possibility.

That kind of sensual freedom comes from trust, and I suppose that is the biggest turn-on of anything else I've explored in my lifetime: Absolute trust. Trust is the one turn-on that makes all the other turn-ons possible.



Beth Wylde
Beth's website

...flesh on flesh...heavy breathing...hands reaching...muscles clenching...backs arched...bodies straining. The scents of sweat and sex filling the air as two consensual adults strive to reach the ultimate goal. Climax!

Nothing gets me hotter than a well written sex scene. Some people prefer the visual stimulation that an adult movie can provide but for me the biggest thing I need to have stimulated is my mind. The use of sensual language to describe a scene of absolute carnal abandon can get me heated up faster than a good round of lengthy foreplay ever could.

Soft and sensual or hot and heavy. Whether it's a girl's first time or a couple's fiftieth, a gentle introduction to intercourse or some seriously kinky BDSM. No matter the situation or the gender. I like it all if it's done right.

The same goes for when I'm writing a love scene. It has to keep the story moving and add something to the overall plot. Sexual tension is good too. Sometimes I enjoy it more if I've had to wait for it.

As for my turn offs, once again it's the written word. If it's distasteful to me you won't find it in one of my books. I write what I like. Funny nicknames or overly technical language can turn me from hot to cold in seconds flat. I'm not looking to read a medical dictionary or sappy dialogue where the author is terrified to call a cock a cock. I need a writer willing to push the envelope. One that can use believable imagery and prose to pull me into the moment until not only the character is on the verge of coming but I am too.

MJ Williamz
MJ's MySpace

There are so many things about women that turn me on. To me, every inch of the female form is arousing. There is no such thing as a physically unattractive woman. So then, what turns me on about the women I'm intimate with?

Confidence without arrogance. I love confidence. I abhor arrogance. I respect, admire, and am drawn to women who are comfortable in their own skin. A woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it makes the best bed partner. If she knows what pleases her and lets me know, the encounter is better for both of us.

How she tells me doesn't matter.

"Oh, God, MJ, a little to the left, please," whispered huskily will not only get me to move to that perfect spot, she will also find that I will continue with a renewed fervency.

A shifting, however slight, of her body so I'm where she needs me will make my juices flow as hard as hers. The feel of her hand on the back of my head directing me will force me to straddle her leg while I continue, pressing myself into her.

All three at once will likely bring me to an earth-shattering climax with her.

Physical attributes that can ignite my desire are eyes and lips. Eyes truly are the windows to the soul. They show so much about a woman and can captivate me at first glance.

The smoldering look that sears my soul, telling me now's the time and I'd better not wait, is one of my favorite stimulants. I'm even aroused by that cold stare that attempts to convey to me that I don't stand a chance. That look is both arousing and challenging since I've never been one to take no for an answer. The eyelids fluttering, half open is my favorite by far.

Of course, to see those eyelids flutter as I look up from between her legs spurs my lust every time.

This brings us to her lips. A full set of firm lips makes a woman impossible to refuse. A coy smile to tease me will ensure she has my full attention. If she bites her lower lip, she'll bring me to my knees. A nice, firm, confident kiss will melt me.

When these qualities are combined, I'm putty in her hand. A confident woman who looks at me, eyes smoldering, lower lip slightly obscured by her top teeth, can just turn and walk away without a word. She should have no doubt that I will be following close behind.

Donna George Storey
Donna's website



The biggest turn-on for me is passion. When a person is passionate about something, that energy and focus usually translates into an easy confidence and mastery that is extremely attractive. This could be a passion for writing, music or even computer programming. Of course the most exciting thing is if this person's passion is focused on me! I find it--strangely?--erotic to see a skilled editor at work, excavating the true beginning of the story, the true ending, slashing adverbs and teasing out connections lying buried in the first draft. When a lover brings this total dedication to bed-his hands, tongue and cock pleasuring me with knowing skill, his whispered words weaving fantasies that seduce my imagination--nothing in this world is sexier.

While I'm confessing, I might as well mention my secret garden-variety turn-on: fresh fruits and vegetables at peak season. My pulse quickens and my breath comes faster when I stroll through a farmer's market and treat my senses to the plump, blushing apples, the wine-scented, golden-skinned Asian pears, the entrancingly smooth, maroon-and-white marbled skin of a Listada eggplant. I adore sniffing melons to tease out the hints of tropical perfume in their dimpled stem end. Better still is when the first tiny spoonful of its sweet flesh ripe proves I've chosen well.

When it comes to encounters with human beings, I love hands. Nice, solid-looking, thick-fingered male hands. Apparently some guys are concerned about penis size. For me, unless it's too tiny to feel or too huge, which has actually been more of a problem because it makes walking painful for a few days, the penis is so much less important than hands with sensitivity and stamina. Hand action, the way he uses them, will make the difference between lame sex and great sex. I find watching a man typing at a keyboard and clicking a mouse very suggestive! I also like necks and shoulders. Deep, warm eyes and and deep, warm laughter. For women, I get wiggly-kneed over shapely legs and asses, especially in tight-fitting black pants or mini-skirts with boots. I like boots.

Turn-offs?

People who let other people's opinions control what they do and think. Conforming to peer pressure is for high school.

Most male models and actors who are supposed to define good-looking in our media-saturated culture. I just find their faces incredibly bland to the point of revulsion. I like the process of discovering what makes a person uniquely interesting and sexy for myself. I don't need Vogue to do it for me.

Lovers who treat my body like a machine.

Old guys who lecture ME about Japan or writing once they find out what I do, especially when they aren't writers and they learned all they know about Japan from articles in Newsweek. Really knowing what you're doing is sexy. Pretending you do when you don't is not.

Jean Roberta
Jean's website

I might sound like a lecturing feminist from the 1970s, but this is what turns me on. I like mutual interest and respect between characters in the erotica I read, and I try to include it in the stories I write - unless I am deliberately describing a Bad Fuck in order to contrast it with something better.

Mutual respect is actually easy to include in Dominant/submissive scenarios. Consider the real implications of an Interrogation Scene in which the Tough Cop or Father/Mother Confessor demands the whole truth from the suspect or prisoner. The real purpose of that scene is to find out what the bottom or sub really wants so as to torment hir (him/her) with it! Threats like "If you don't beg for it, I won't touch you" are an extreme way of asking for consent. If there's no consent, the logical answer would be "See ya later, alligator." (But of course, in truly erotic writing there's always consent and encouragement – from the author to the reader and vice versa as well as between characters.)

From the time I began reading Pat Califia's queer, whimsically-funny BDSM erotica in the early 1980s, I fell in love with the paradox of polarized roles and over-the-top drama on the surface, and deep mutual curiosity and an equal desire to please underneath. A message of mutual interest, desire and even love seems especially convincing to me if both/all the characters were born into the same gender and brought up in similar neighborhoods. In this case, unequal roles seem freely chosen.

I am turned off by sexual cliches, stereotyped characters and a lack of convincing consent, and all these things seem related. I can enjoy M/f erotica, but a writer who describes an Alpha Male sweeping a pouty woman off her feet or literally tying her down needs to work harder than a writer of queer/pansexual fantasies to convince me that this is all good fun, and based on honest lust from all sides.

Not only cartoon Men from Mars and Women from Venus but racist stereotypes squick me to the point where I can't go on reading. Lately, I've run across a parade of fictional Asian dragon ladies who sexually torment helpless straight white men so that they (the bitch-goddesses) can go on
running the world. Gahh.

For better or worse, I can't read any sex fantasy simply as an "escape" from the frustrations of real life. Writing about sex, like writing about anything else, always has a viewpoint, a message and an agenda. I can't get off on the message that straight white men are an endangered species who are entitled to put everyone else back in their traditional place, or that certain people are just naturally more worthy of good sex (and every other desirable thing) than others. I'd rather escape from the monotony of stereotypes into the juicier complexity of something that more closely resembles the real world.



Day
Day's MySpace

One thing that I know about myself is that, "I like what I like and I want what I want when it comes to the enjoyment of sex." Nothing turns me off more than a man assuming that he knows what I want and what feels good to me, or what women in general want based on past sexual experiences. As we all have probably had at least once in our life time, I knowingly engaged in a one night stand with a guy that I will call Mike. Mike was sexy as hell in physical features, but arrogant beyond what would be considered normal as far as arrogance goes.

All week Mike called giving me little titillations of what was to come. I was excited, as well as horny and was ready for what I knew was going to be the best sex I had encountered for some time since I was just three months out of a very loving and sexually fulfilled relationship. Mike showed up, the atmosphere was sexy, and I was ready to seduce and be seduced. Mike looked and smelled like the Adonis that I had always thought him to be. It was first hard for me to even see sexing this guy since he was eight years my junior not to mention he was my best friend's little brother, however tonight being my junior or the fact that he was my friend's brother had no bearing on what I wanted and that was hot, sweaty, orgasmic, mind blowing sex. Everything was perfect! Then it happened. After undressing me, Mike went for it. Pushed me back on the bed, put one arm under my leg, raised it and entered me and went to pumping. "What the fuck," I thought. Being the person that I am did not stop him. When he came I got up, put on my clothes and asked him to leave. He seemed surprised and asked what the problem was. I asked him what the fuck was that and he stated, "I just figured you were the kind of woman that just wanted to get right into the sex." It took me days before I could actually calm down enough to tell this young brother that he had a lot to learn about women and that he should not base his successful experiences to come on the women he had been with in the past. After a month we tried it again after talking extensively and needless to say he got it just right. DAMN RIGHT!

What turns me on the most is a man or a woman who is not selfish and who is open to listen and try different things for the heightened sexual pleasures of both parties. One who takes the time to find out what makes ME feel good. If a person does that, he or she can have my goodies all day long.

Winnie Jerome
Winnie's blog

I have a weakness for bondage. I think I developed a taste for it after reading the WWII era Wonder Woman comics. I know, it sounds a little unusual, but I used to spend a lot of time reading them, and one of the things that fascinated me was the Golden Age era.

Things were a lot different then. For one thing, the comics code didn't exist. So there was no one to tell the artist that he couldn't depict his lead heroine getting tied up. Repeatedly. And in a lot of different positions: hands behind the back, hog-tied, hobbled. Sometimes she was gagged, sometimes she was chained. I found it incredibly sexy. Needless to say, it rapidly became my favorite comic.

Another thing I love is dirty talk. Unfortunately, dirty talk is one of those things that can sound goofy if you use the wrong phrasing. But if it's done well, it sets my imagination soaring, and it just makes sex that much better.

I also have a voyeuristic streak, which is also why I love watching two men having sex. Really really love it. If I see two men getting hot and heavy, I have a reaction very similar to a Tex Avery cartoon -- eyeballs bugging out, heart thumping out of my chest, tongue dragging on the ground... Add in the other turn-ons I've listed to the mix and I'm a very happy camper.

Now that I've talked about my turn-ons, I should talk about my turn-offs. One thing that never appealed to me was playing with candle wax. Which is funny, because getting my eyebrows waxed doesn't freak me out. I guess my dislike has to do with the fact that I really hate burns, and there's no way for me to tell if the wax coming from the candle is at a tolerable temperature or a "Oh my God, that hurts!" temperature. And frankly, that sort of pain is not the type I like to receive. Spanking and pinching are great, but not candles. Having sex outdoors is another turn-off. I'm an urban girl -- if you mention camping, my first reaction will be to wrinkle my nose and go inside to enjoy my creature comforts. Between the dirt or grass getting into places it shouldn't, shivering because it's cold outside, and the bugs; being one with nature gets a big thumbs down from me.

Jolie du Pre
Jolie's MySpace

I'm turned on by the inappropriate, the unconventional and the untidy. The business executive who uncovers his tattooed arms and spikes his hair after he leaves the office. The black woman who stuffs her big ass in a pair of tight jeans and walks proudly down the street. The middle aged woman who doesn't cover her cleavage. The young girl in a thrift store creation when all the other girls are wearing Hollister. The young black man in Ralph Lauren when the rest of them are wearing Phat Farm and Sean John.

Angelina Jolie may be hot, but I'd rather sleep with Queen Latifah. Brad Pitt is clean and pretty, but give me the alcoholic Jonathan Rhys Meyers. Monet leaves me dry. Pollock gets me wet.

What is her personality like? Can she make me laugh? Is her brain the size of Jupiter? Does she look me in the eyes when she talks to me? Or is she just a perfect size 1 who talks about dieting and Oprah?

He's tall and good looking? That's nice, but what else? Does he like books? Music? Is he sensitive? Or is he just a jock with a remote in one hand and a beer in the other?


Graphic - Glitter Graphics

Be on the look out for Series 3 of TRUE EROTIC TALES, where authors offer new essays to a new question.

TRUE EROTIC TALES - Series 1

TRUE EROTIC TALES - Series 1



TRUE EROTIC TALES are non-fictional erotic essays written by authors of today.








Are you a Top, a Bottom or a Switch?

Top, Bottom, Switch - Definitions

Author K.M. Frontain
K.M. Frontain's Home Page


Top, bottom, or switch? When I write, I'm a switch. I am any of the characters in the novel, including the evil ones, the ones that don't take no for an answer, the ones a reader might want to chuck in a dungeon and never let out.

I'm also the nice characters, the ones who get bitten for being too gullible, that could do with pinching, who should know better than to trustingly stick their arms out while someone is holding a rope. I'm the braver characters as well, the ones that put their arms out on purpose just to see what it's like, who will kick ass later if they don't enjoy what happens next.

And I'm the characters that beg to be tied, who want a lesson to make them feel alive, who need someone else to take the burden of control.

In reality, I'm a top. Perhaps I am every character during the moment of story creation, but beyond the fourth wall, I exist to make them live through hard lessons, to feel alive, and to remove from them the burden of control. I'll whip a dominating character as quickly as a submissive one. I give them all hell.

In reality, I'm a "secret" top because I try not to give hell to anybody, though sometimes I do anyhow. I'll make up for it after, just like I do in my stories. The nice guys win. I'm a secret top who likes a happy ending.

But if you really can't be happy without some rope, chains and leather, do kneel and hold out your arms.


Author Gwen Masters
Gwen Master's Blog


From the moment my first lover ordered me to hold onto the headboard so he could tie me up, I reveled in the joy of submission. From that point on, I loved dominant men. I sought them out like a moth seeking a light. I craved giving myself over, offering everything, pushing all my boundaries, all for a man's pleasure.

I was certain I was a Bottom -- until the night a lover asked me to turn the tables. When that moment came, I wasn't sure what to do. I was entirely out of my element, uncomfortable with the very thought. It was the biggest boundary of all, but no safe word would make this one go away. The emotional quagmire he put me in was scary as hell, and I resented him so much, I was afraid it would destroy our relationship.

After much thought and discussion, I decided to give it a try. It took a great deal of time and encouragement for me to move forward into being the dominant force, but once I was there, it was like fitting a key into a lock. It was the door to a whole new world, a realm of sexuality I had seen only from a distance, a place I had never imagined for myself. The rush was beyond anything I had ever felt.

When that night was over, I was completely confused. I still loved being a Bottom but I loved being a Top -- oh, Lord, did I love it just as much? Talk about an emotional tailspin!

Over time I found a good balance, and now can move smoothly from domination to submission and back again. I can find that mental niche and slip into it as though I was always meant to be a Top -- or a Bottom. Now I'm comfortable with my role as a true Switch. I love the power play of both sides, the carefully orchestrated dance that brings pleasure to not only the body, but to the mind and soul.


Author Liam Moran
Liam Moran's Website


When I first came out, I always had to be on top. It seems so alien to me now to reach back to that mind-set, so arbitrarily narrow. Fortunately for me, it was just a growth stage-I am certain now it was my own homophobia that insisted I be "the man" in bed. After all, I'd been "the man" in my marriage-bed, and with a number of women lovers before I'd finally married.

Maybe it was memories of college-days experimentation that could only be classified as being raped. Maybe it was just societal brainwashing. I don't know about others, but I know it was fear that dictated I be on top-fear that I would somehow become less than, if I gave up my body and let a man fuck me. In fact, the fiercer the bed-tussle to end up on top, the more satisfying the sex was to me. I say sex, because at that point I wasn't ready for love in my new life. Not really. I didn't yet understand how exquisitely beautiful give and take could actually be between two men.

One night, with a stranger, there was no bed-tussle. In fact there was no contest at all. The atmosphere between the two of us was quiet, gentle, whole. Somehow-I couldn't even tell you exactly how-it became absolutely clear that I was going to let him inside my body. He was huge. He was gentle. He opened me to an entirely new dimension of intimacy, and showed me the ecstasy that was possible in that new dimension. He changed me, and I'll be forever grateful to him for changing me.

Now, when a man enters me I feel a profound wave of completion that comes no other way. I love being a bottom. I love the crush of a man's weight against me as he takes possession of my body. Sometimes when I come with him inside me, I feel my body split open from throat to dan tien, and my soul explodes into stars before returning to my flesh-fuller, richer, stronger, wiser. There is absolutely nothing that compares.

Does that make me a bottom? Although that's my strong preference, it's not an exclusive one. I would never want to lose the ecstasy of being a top, either. Holding the trust of another man as I prepare him, enter him, take him, feel his legs wrap tight around me, feel his body welcome me in, enfolding me in his heat-why would I not want that, too? A man's eyes change when he is entered. I love that look.

So what does that make me? Depending on the situation, top? Yes. Bottom? Yes. Switch? Yes. I'm just a man who loves men, loves men's bodies, loves their beauty, and taste, and smell and feel.


Author Hazel Mills
Hazel Mills' MySpace


The determination of whether I am top, bottom or switch is not hard at all. Although for some, always assuming either the dominant or submissive role is preferred, sex is much more interesting as a switch. Switch allows each partner to have the freedom of choice. Choices that will allow my lover and I to be different things to each other based on our needs and desires. It is sex without boundaries or limitations. It also re-enforces a balance of power.

There are days when I want my man to be the one in charge sexually. The whole Tarzan and Jane scenario can be a beautiful thing. There is something definitely exciting and orgasmic about being submissive and bending, literally and figuratively, to his will. When I want him to make love to me, it is always with the acceptance of his dominant role.

Aphrodite, Queen of the Nightie also rules in the bedroom or in whatever room of the house she chooses. To have my man submit to my will and to know that his manhood is not threatened by my dominance provides a high that is unmatched by any drug.

Do we always adventure into lovemaking knowing who will be top or bottom? No, not always. Most times, we don't choose at all. We simply allow nature to take its course. We rule our universe together.

Giving and receiving is, I believe, the basis of any successful and truly fulfilling intimate relationship.


Author Jodi Payne
Jodi Payne's Website


I'm a switch, and I couldn't imagine being any other way. I like variety, I like spontaneity. I like having fun while I'm having my needs met, whatever they may be on a given day.

Why? That's a difficult question to answer succinctly. In no particular order, I'm an author, a mother, a partner, a daughter. I'm a lesbian and an activist. I'm a full time professional in a corporate setting. I'm a friend, a Leo and an abuse survivor. I think I've got a lot of dimensions to my personality and in order to keep all the hats I wear happy, things need to be changed up emotionally, and in the bedroom now and then.

Sometimes I'm in a strong mood and I want to take control. Expressing that during sex ranges for me from just being an aggressive lover to actually being demanding and "Toppy", physically and verbally. On the other hand, occasionally I want to be taken care of. I want to be romanced and seduced, I want to hand over the control to my partner. Again, that ranges for me from just being more passive, to accepting demands, to physically being restrained in some way.

I'm fortunate enough to have a partner that feels the same way I do. I've always enjoyed a wide and varied sex life. We have toys and props, which sometimes get use, and sometimes not. I enjoy everything from romance to role play, and why not? I have twice the fun, I'm never expected to be one kind of lover or another with my partner, and I'm never sure quite what to expect from her. We've been in a committed relationship for seven years and we're both very satisfied-on many levels.


Author Bobby Michaels
Bobby Michaels' Website


At the bottom of my e-mails, even below the listings of my books and my website, is a statement by a French philosopher who I long ago forgot his name. The statement he made, however, I could never forget:

"The most exquisite pleasure is giving pleasure to others."

This is not just my "e-mail signature", it is the motto of my life. I love giving pleasure to others, through my writings, through other artistic expressions, through helping others who need it. But beyond all this, is the sexual pleasure I reserve only for other males.

The term "cocksucker" is used as a pejorative. I stand proudly and tell you that not only am I a cocksucker, I'm the best fucking cocksucker you've ever met! More, I'm the best damned rim artist (if you male and don't know what rimming is, you're probably straight and I feel sorry for you.) around. After all, I'm not known as RimPig (another of my author names) for nothing.

I have nothing against guys who are Tops. Are you kidding? I LOVE guys who are Tops. Because I pair up very nicely with them. We know how to treat each other, we know what to expect, mostly, from each other, and I know there is not a Top on earth who plays with other guys that I can't make feel good.

Nor do I have anything against mostly straight guys who want to take a little "walk on the wild side" and see how good a cocksucker I am and learn what rimming is and why he will love it. A male is a male, no matter what he calls himself (or doesn't). I love to give males pleasure. Period.

You see, I've spent a lot of years (no, I won't tell you how many!) honing my "craft" and learning how to make a man feel good. That makes me feel good. It also, oftentimes, makes him grateful enough to make sure that I get pleasure for my efforts as well.

There are those who feel that being a bottom is giving up my "male power". Oh really? When some guy has his most precious appendage in my mouth with all those sharp teeth and I'm deciding how fast or slow to get him off, who the fuck do you think has the power?

And I haven't even talked about how I love the feel of a Top's cock sliding deep inside me. That may seem like I'm giving up "power", too. But stop and think, without my willing ass, he'd be jacking off.


Author Kelly M. Marshall
Kelly M. Marshall's MySpace


I discovered my dominant side first. In high school, I would pounce and tackle boys to the ground or bed and gain the upper hand before they had a chance to think. Most of the guys I dated really liked this aspect of our interactions, and didn't question my motives for making the first move. Tying them up and ordering them around really gave them a thrill, and I felt safe. I realized later that it was an act of self-protection. By dominating the boy, I could decide who touched whom and where, and how. It was this way that I earned the reputation of a promiscuous cock-tease; the girl who would fuck with your brains but wouldn't let you fuck her. It wasn't until halfway through high school that I realized I was a lesbian.

When I dated my first girl halfway through high school, my emotional armor loosened a little. Sex started to feel like a mutual sharing,instead of a dance of expectations and deflections. I was still the aggressor, but in a sideways, insinuating way. Dominating women gave me a window of pleasure, but still let me have that safety net of control. Often, I staged scenes where I was the submissive, but still orchestrating the minutiae of the scene. Looking back, I must have been such a pain in the ass to top!

I remember one occasion where I handed my girlfriend a blindfold and asked her to put it on me, then I lay on the floor and held onto the futon frame, as if bracing myself for an unknown impact. My rules to myself were that I wasn't allowed to remove my hands from the futon frame or take off the blindfold, and I would let my girlfriend do whatever she liked to me. It was excruciating, lying still and waiting for her touch. I experienced my first hint of subspace as she teased me and responded to my verbal prompts with gentle cajoling. These moments were few and far between as I grew into a young adult and took more lovers.

It wasn't until my most recent relationship that I fully realized my identity as a switch. It's strange, because it was a foray into the unknown from the get-go: it was my first concrete experience with polyamorous relationships. Already I was out of my depth, and forced to live in the moment. She was a switch like me. One day, she turned to me and said, "Sometimes I just want to let this fierceness out, to beat you when we fuck. You never let me." I looked at her, astounded. And then I replied, "I would let you."

We started negotiating the scene with some trepidation. We set limits, and a safe word, and started to play. I was wholly unprepared for this ecstatic sense of surrender that enveloped me when I followed her orders and let her spank me. It was a high that rivaled the rush of domination, yet was an entirely different sensation. I loved it.

I think this was the key to owning my submissiveness: I had to learn to trust my lover with this vulnerability. So I did, and was finally able to reap the amazing rewards.


Author Angela Cameron
Angela Cameron's Website


I am thoroughly a novice in the ways of The Scene. I only know the basic terms, but I feel a fondness for those who claim the lifestyle freely. Does this qualify someone to claim the title of top, bottom or switch? I believe so. And, since it does, I must claim the title of switch.

I am from the Bible Belt, raised in a strictly Christian home, and I grew up thinking sex was bad. In fact, I spent much of my adult life up to the age of about twenty-eight it in some way or another. Then, in a drive toward self-exploration, I discovered that I love being a bottom. Being held down, tied, and to even experience a little rough treatment on occasion sparks passions in me that I didn't realize existed a few short years ago. On the occasion that my husband pulls my hair or bites me, it is an extra special treat. These little acts make me feel safe, sexy, feminine, loved, and desired. I don't exactly know why or how it does, but it does.

My husband, being the alpha male that he is, makes a wonderful counterpart for this fetish of mine. However, being a bossy, stubborn, and sadistic woman at times, I also take particular pleasure in matching or dominating him. Even when we play wrestle, he gets me into some painful contortion, but I tearfully continue to refuse surrender. This side of my personality could never let anyone win, especially a man. Of course, I fantasize about doing more, and I'd love to slap him in the face. Maybe that's a bit of marital frustration talking, I don't know.

Either way, this part of my personality scares me. I fear - no I know - that if I start indulging in this part of me, the part of me that likes to hurt people, it will be very hard to stop. Besides, I don't think he'd enjoy any real degree of pain. So, for now, this particular door is one that is better left closed in my life.

Some might ask why these seemingly opposite behaviors heat me up so. I can't honestly say that I know. As former psych student, I must consider the fact that I come from a very abusive childhood. That simple fact adds a multitude of possible dimensions. However, it also puts very strong limits on what is okay for me in these same areas. For example, I endured so many beatings until age of sixteen that the idea of belts or being whipped terrifies me. As an adult, the crack of a belt makes me nauseous and tearful. On the other side, the idea of beating someone to any degree has a strange appeal to it. For me, I don't think that even Freud can give exact reasons why being a switch is so perfect for me. It simply is, like yin and yang.


Author Secondhand Rose
Secondhand Rose's Blog


I'm not really into labels -- I can admit to their purpose, especially when searching for a story, some information or even someone -- but I tend to think more in roles. And roles are flexible, situational, can be changed.

Just as a one-dimensional character is a rather boring read, so a labeled person makes for a very boring lay. What makes humans so sexy is the complexity involved.

You have in this one man a powerful elected official who enjoys being bound, gagged and whipped, then takes it up the ass from his wife's strap on. The wife, who feels invisible in most of her life, save for her politically correct public appearances, loves making him grovel and beg to service her -- before she'll even consider giving him what he really wants. While these things are very common, they are also relatively predictable in a role reversal fashion. One's stress is relieved by this sort of power play; it's a form of balance.

For those who feel more in control of their lives, or at least more balance, power play is more about play. The roles change based on mood or the mood of their partners. Other times, balance is only felt when one gets what one needs, be it tied to sensory issues or images and needs instilled early in their lives. Who can tell?

And isn't the discovery of just what a person craves, and perhaps understanding why, most delicious? It feels like falling in love. Again and again.

Which is why I consider myself a Switchy Woman.

I don't just conform to needs, be they mine or those of another, but rather find playing the entire spectrum to be one way to keep the joy of discovery.


Author Bethan Alyson


Which way up is best? The view from the top is a good one, commanding, comprehensive, and generally, worth the effort. I mean, tops know that looking down you get the whole landscape, the panoramic perspective. What can I see from here, looking down? I see the planes and angles of a body cast partly into relief by a shaded lamp, the closed eyes, flesh waiting to be touched, tasted, impressed by my fingers.

Once, in a pub, I craned my head around to catch sight of the 'S&M dykes' my friend pointed out. I was curious, not shocked. Hungry. I had never tasted anything other than vanilla at that point. Years of experimentation and reading taught me some key issues. Tops like to be in control, to be the doers. Supposedly. Bottoms like to be dominated. Done to. The view from the bottom is limited, blinkered, constricted. It is a submission, asking the dominatrix to do the seeing and the thinking and the watching, while the submissive learns to relinquish.

Trouble is, I like both. I have read that a good top has to have once experienced life as a bottom. And that no one should take what they can't dish out. Therefore, it appears to me, that every top has to have some idea of the view from below, of the fear of the blindfolded caning, the swish, thud, burn of each stroke. In order to know how to time it, how to measure tolerance, pain threshold, which gasp precedes the safe word, and how to avoid it.

Experience is everything, so I would say that every good bottom also knows the effort and energy of the top, the timing and aching muscles and the intense arousal of watching the bottom's responses. The flushing of the skin.

There are times I need pain to climax, need an intensity in my own flesh. Times I want to relinquish my rigidly held control to another, in the purest and deepest trust, to be taken and driven and pushed and even punished. I want her to do me. There are others when I need to see her face as it twists in pain and pleasure. I want to watch her body writhe, her eyes dilate, and her breath quicken. I want to make her gasp. I want to know she is on the edge, right on the edge, and the next stroke, the next few seconds of restraint, the next touch of my hand, will carry her over, right over, plummeting to the deepest parts of herself. I want to be the one to have done that to her. For me, for the most part, that is enough.

When I want it back, and she can't give it, then the compensation is that the vanilla is the best kind, fresh and yet practised at the same time, skilled. If I ask, she will switch with me, but when it comes down to it, I'm still in control. As long as we're both saying yes, the view from the top is just fine.


Author Eve Cain
First published Story in Beyond Desire

Fairytales are riddled with imagery of bondage and domination. A princess locked in a tower, a prince chained to a dungeon wall, a maiden bound wrist and ankle and slung over her captor's shoulder, a knight beaten and bloodied as he fights to free his love. Every story is a battle to win a life fulfilled by the soul's desire, where defeat would be utter devastation and where victory is always a hard-won prize attained through submission and sacrifice.

Was it the all-encompassing passion of these childhood fables that enchanted my soul? Was it a belief that grew from the idea that ecstasy of the heart could only be attained if you gave up everything? Everything but the knowledge that there was no hardship you could not endure because in the end love would always triumph, would always be waiting to soothe and protect and keep you safe forevermore. Such stories have always enthralled my imagination.

Perhaps this is the wellspring that fed my erotic desires. When I submit I am profoundly suffused with the quiet bliss I have always known when I close my eyes to dream of the passion or adventure of my favorite lifelong tales. When I am bound I am a maiden, coveted and captured. When I am tortured I am challenged to surrender my fears and trust in love. When I at long-last find my release it is always a hard-won prize. And when I feel my restraints loosened and my ordeal subsiding, when harsh touches have once again turned soothing and aggressive voices give way to lulling tones, when I open my eyes to the caring and concerned gaze of my lover...The end of a beautiful scene will always find me floating in an enchanting world of happily ever after.

So why am I a bottom, what exactly feeds my passion? I may never truly know. However it is beyond doubt that such submission lies at the very heart of my soul's desire. Thus I will present myself vulnerable and exposed and yet strong and determined over-and-again, for to know such fulfillment in this life is reason enough for me.


Author Jolene Hui
Jolene Hui's Website


I never really thought about how exactly I have sex until I started spending a large amount of my time writing erotica. Or maybe I mean how I prefer to have sex. Whatever way I mean it or however you look at it, I never looked at sex like I do now. I have the ability now to know exactly what I want how I want it and when I want control and when I don't want it. Writing about sex has put me in control of my pleasure.

When it comes to being a top, bottom, or switch, there is no question about it: I am most definitely a switch with the ability to take control as a top or relinquish control as a bottom. However, I find that I lean toward the bottom side of the spectrum. Giving over that control is one of the most exhilarating things I've ever done in my life. I love the feeling of being with someone who knows how to please me or wants to learn exactly how to please me. There's nothing sexier than a person who gets off while getting me off. Don't get me wrong, though, I also have fun taking over the situation when necessary.

Each sexual situation is different and each partner is different. It's funny that some people like to say that sex is just sex, but sex is never just sex. Sex is different with each partner and even with each partner sex can be different every time. That's what's so fun about being a switch, being able to adapt to each individual situation.

I find that I am open to all sorts of people and preferences so this gives me lots of chances to play. Sometimes it's fun to takeover the top with partners who want you to do so, but I find that more often I am with a partner who wants to be the top. I've thought about this quite a bit and I think that I find it so exciting to be a bottom because I am such an aggressive person in everyday life. I am one of the most assertive people I know and to be able to let that go in the bedroom is freeing to me. It's kind of nice and refreshing to be the bottom. An utterance of "Oh no, Jolene, let me do that for you," or even a "sit the fuck still while I tie your wrists down," will, most likely, get me going.

I think I should also specify that when I look at it, tops and bottoms are not necessarily fully dominant and fully submissive. There aren't rules that each person has to follow. I'm all about blurring the boundaries and tailoring to each person. It's all about playing. And who doesn't like playtime?


Author Jolie du Pre
Jolie du Pre's Website


When I'm with a bi-curious female I'm a teacher, which translates to a Top. That's what she expects. There have been exceptions, like the time a young, cute, African American femme, with big, natural boobs and an infectious sense of humor initiated contact by slowing kissing my neck. "I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered. "You're doing just fine," I whispered back. Later, as I trailed my lips down her naked body, she demanded to top and she wouldn't take "no" for an answer. Her curiosity was similar to mine during my first girl on girl experience. I was so nervous my knees were shaking, but once I gained confidence the knees stop shaking and I wanted to top, eager to do all the things I had dreamed of doing to a woman.

I'm a strong, confident woman, and some women want me to top because of my personality. I was in a threesome with such a woman. She responded to me like a newbie, even though she had been with plenty of women before me. As I topped her I made her squirt, which made me want to strut like a rooster. It was interesting to watch her transform from a Bottom to a Top when she got with her husband. Yet, it was a reaction to what he demanded for the scene, not her true nature.

I've been a Bottom with almost every man except my husband. And even then, I'm only a Top when my husband asks me to be or if I'm really in that mood. I'm not comfortable topping a man. I need him to be in control. But, like always in my life, there have been exceptions. I was with this tall, muscular African American male who stuttered when he spoke. In my mind, my alphas don't have speech impediments. So I topped him, with his big, stiff cock in my mouth, for twenty minutes, because I wanted it, not because he told me what to do. (He didn't complain.)

I'm a Bottom with any lesbian who identifies as butch. When I'm with a butch, just like when I'm with a man, I want her to be in control. This has never been a problem. The butch women I've dated not only wanted to top me, they wanted to hold doors open for me, buy me things, beat up guys who flirted with me, and marry me. (If they could.) But I also date femmes and when I do they are the type that are just as assertive as I am. Therefore, we switch. I'll top a femme and then she'll top me.

So if you insist on a label for me, type Bisexual, Polyamorous, Switch with your label maker, and use the pretty pink tape that I like.


Graphic - Glitter Graphics


Be on the look out for Series 2 of TRUE EROTIC TALES, where authors offer new essays to a new question.

Safe, Sane, and Consensual?

My lesbian erotica has included a few stories that have a BDSM (Bondage, Discipline, Sadism, Masochism) theme. My favorite is "She" in Hot & Bothered 4.


Excerpt:


In that room she stood there. Everywhere I went, she followed me with her eyes. She walked up to me, the only other black in the room, and said, "Get me a drink." I didn't know her and she didn't know me. But she told me to get her a drink, and I did.


Later, at her house, she placed me face down on her bed, my wrists and ankles tied. She reached into a chest, removed a paddle, and whacked my bare bottom until I cried out in pain.


"Come back at six tomorrow," she said.


"Can't I come later?" I asked. "I have a meeting at six."


"No," she said. "I said six. Don't disappoint me."


I remember staring at a bunch of papers while at work, the day after she spanked me, the same day she wanted me to meet her at six, and feeling the pain lingering on my ass. Glorious.


(An excerpt from "She" by Jolie du Pre in Hot and Bothered 4. )


For BDSM to be true BDSM, everything needs to be Safe, Sane and Consensual. We hear this all the time, but do we know what it really means? To explain, here's an article on Safe, Sane and Consensual.


Safe, Sane, and Consensual(SSC)


The big question asked by people who are thinking of getting into BDSM play; "Is this normal?" To answer a question with another question; "Is sexual exploration normal?" The answer is yes; humans are always progressing to create a bigger, better world so why shouldn't they strive to create bigger, better, sore satisfying sexual experiences?The big question you SHOULD be asking about any of your BDSM play is; "Is this SAFE, SANE, and CONSENSUAL?"



"Safe" means you will not injure or bring physical harm to others and yourself. Those who are into rougher forms of play, S&M activities such as spanking and flogging, should not be discouraged because this refers to knowing your limits as well as the limits of your partner(s). Even if your partner suggests another slap with the paddle, be aware that he/she could be "flying" and you should keep a grasp of what your partner is truly capable of handling. A player sometimes gets so caught up in a BDSM activity he/she enters a trance-like state or a state of unrealistic euphoria called flying that can be caused by a combination of rushing endorphins or the intensity of the experience. This mystical or trance-like experience is why BDSM is sometimes referred to as Sexual Magic. Players should check-in with each other every now and then during play to keep the activities safe.



"Sane" in reference to BDSM means understanding the person you are playing with. You do not want to do or say anything to harm your partner(s) emotionally or psychologically. A player should not wind up in the psych ward based on another player's actions or attitude during play. Humiliation is a part of some Domination and Submission play; this is fine as long as the person receiving this type of play consents to the aspects of his/her life, personality, and appearance that will be subject to humiliation. If one player is into "play rape" (and this does not mean a desire to be sexually assaulted or assault another person in real life), that player needs to know if his/her partner would be uncomfortable with that type of play. This brings us back to consent.



"Consent" is reiterated because it is essential for all BDSM activities to be successful. You must have pre-established, explicit consent about all aspects of a session before anyone can start. It is the responsibility of each player to convey what he/she wants and does not want to happen in a scene. If you are the Dom playing in a scene and are not sure about the consent of something you want to do to your Sub, then wait until the scene is over to ask if you can do it the next time. If youre not sure, don't do it; this is a good rule to go by in this context, especially for inexperienced players.


So if everything you want to do in your BDSM experience is SAFE, SANE, and CONSENSUAL, proceed and make your kinky fantasies your realities.


Article Source - Erotic Sex Toys

Clip Art Source - Glitter Graphics


Jolie du Pre is a writer of lesbian erotica and lesbian erotic romance.

Music for blogging - Marilyn Manson

Sugasm #94

The best of this week's blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #95? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form. Participants, repost the link list within a week and you're all set.

This Week's Picks
Fisted, first.
"And it was lovely, because the movements made by his fist inside me were so different to a cock."

The Razor, the Tape and the Man
"He's never known this lack of control, this unstoppable surge of orgasm, this wave of ecstasy soldiers crossing his territory."

Sex Work And Religion: Monotone Man
"Religion comes up during calls more than I anticipated when I started doing sex work."

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Masterlock Street Cuffs

Editor’s Choice
Watching my girl's caning

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot's Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Butch/Femme, Spanking and Team Gina, Oh My!
"If you jump into bed on a first date, it's already over" and other Myths
Normal.
Or, When Fantasy Ruins Your Love Life
Sex in the possibly public square
The Storm Cone
When trust faltered...

Sex News & Reviews
Sex Blogger Cocktail Party In Toronto
Sex Toy Review: njoy Butt Plug
Wet vs. dry rub

BDSM & Fetish
The Blindfold
Dinner Party
Happy HNT - Subspace bondage
I’m Not Ready To Play Nice...
Manless
New Store!!! New Videos!!! New Look!!!
Posting tipsy
Social Kink Interviews Steve Diet Goedde
Trashy kisses
Weekend With CD Part I (Figging LFM)

Sex Poetry
Beauty mark
Mischief

NSFW Pics & Videos
Catalina loves To Take Pictures
Gabriella (Gallery Carre)
Jessica Beil Topless
A Reflective Half-Nekkid Thursday
Sandra Shine Nude
Valentina is a goldpiece
WebMistress Feature Gallery: Sultry Striptease

Sex & Politics
We Support the Human Rights Campaign

Erotic Writing and Experiences
Bubble Bath
Cadillac Confessions Vol. 1
Caught Between A Rock And A Hard On! - Part 1
Chatting
Every Six Seconds... #2
No reservations, part 2
Our holiday - part one
Party
Sexytime
Siesta
Sex from the Rooftops
Speaking of Porn Stars….
Sunshine On Naked Skin
That Makes Two
Wanking this weekend?
Warm Wet Velvet
We sleeping wake, and waking sleep