November 18th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
Bath Time
Some of the user-generated galleries at Met Art are spectacular. Case in point: Bath time!
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November 17th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
Hot Tubbing In The Castle Of Kink
Following neatly from my last post which mentioned the “castle of kink” maintained by Kink.com in the Old Armory building in San Francisco, Mistress Matisse (who went down to San Francisco to do a shoot) painted a delightful (if somewhat surreal) word picture of what it was like to spend the night there. This is not the jacuzzi in the infamous Grotto at the Playboy Mansion, that’s for sure!
I want you to imagine an enormous warehouse. Huge. Big enough to comfortably house, say, a DC-9. It might be even bigger, but the bare bulbs hanging from the ceiling only dimly illuminate the raw and rather dirty walls and concrete floor, so the furthest corners simply fade into unmeasurable blackness.
There’s some detritus here and there — pallets, tarps, boxes — but it’s mostly empty, except for four cars parked in the center of the room, and in one far corner, an RV. A gallery runs around the perimeter of the room, at second-floor height. The lights don’t reach it, so it’s impossible to see what — or who — is up there.
And in one corner of this vast, chilly room, there’s a hot tub. And in that hot tub, quite alone, and naked, is me — lounging against the jets and smiling to myself at the oddity of it. Here I am, in what is arguably the kinkiest place in town, and I am engaged in that most vanilla of all the pseudo-sexy experiences, hot-tubbing. Alone. Edgy, huh? Not so much.
I am choosing to ignore the fact that there is a security camera nearby, and there is a security guard sitting, with a bank of screens in front of him, just a few hundred feet away from me. He’s around a corner, out of sight, but there is no door between us. But what the hell – if the camera is on, and he sees me – well then, he sees me. It seems silly to cavil, when after tomorrow, he’ll be able to very easily buy much better quality images of me. (However, he has been strictly polite and professional to me, not so much as a flicker of anything else, even when we had to go exploring together to find this hot tub. He himself was unaware that it here, and while his English seems fluent enough, he literally did not know the meaning of the phrase “hot tub”. He seemed a little confused even when I pulled off the cover and showed it to him, splashing my hand in the water. But he shrugged and left me to it.)
Soon I will get out, dry myself, and go up the stairs and down the long hallway to the little dormitory-style room I was assigned and go to bed. My shoot doesn’t begin too early, but I have a feeling the building will come to life tomorrow morning and be a very different place than the silent, echoing place it is now.
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November 16th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
Playboy Versus Kink.com?
There’s a long and pedestrian business article here about the decline of the Playboy empire and the signs (faint though they are) that Hugh Hefner may finally, at age 83, be tired of maintaining his playboy image. But what struck me was the abject cluelessness of the last three paragraphs, two of which (after subtracting a paragraph of standard-story boilerplate filler) propose Kink.com’s Peter Acworth as the next “Mr. Playboy”:
But if Hefner sells up, who might take his place as Mr Playboy? The leading contender is Midlands-born Peter Acworth, a former Barings banker and founded of Kink.com, a suite of S&M and bondage-themed websites.
Acworth, 39, says he got the idea after he read in a British tabloid about a fireman who sold pornographic pictures on the internet. “He had made a quarter of a million pounds over a short period doing nothing very clever at all. So I basically just ripped off that idea.”
It’s a long way from bunny ears; Kink.com’s brand icon is a forked tail.
On the one hand, it’s illuminating that Kink.com should be considered one of the strongest brands in porn, that it could be compared to Playboy in any fashion. But this business writer — although clear on the meaning of the Playboy brand — has obviously failed to grasp the central branding connotations that have made Kink.com what it is today. Playboy has always had an iconic individual (Hefner) living it up with the models, with a wink and a nudge as to the propriety of same. (To be fair, Playboy’s photographers have a reputation for running clean and professional shoots.) But Kink.com is known for being holier than the Pope when it comes to professionalism and clean dealing with its models. It needs this reputation because of the edgy nature of its kinky material. Trying to cast Acworth in a Hefnerian role — something he’s shown no sign of wanting — would be an epic disaster for the brand.
It’s probably true that we’ll see Acworth, along with a rich cast of his dominant hirelings, being waited on hand and foot by naked slaves once the forthcoming reality-show site The Upper Floor (think Roissy meets Real World) goes live on the top floor of his San Francisco Armory castle of kink. But for Hefner-level striving-after-celebrity, he’d need to pull up at the Erotic Exotic Ball in a carriage pulled by a dozen prancing pony girls, and I don’t think we’ll see him going there.
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November 14th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
Queen Of The Ant People
Screw controversy, how about something we can all get behind? Like, say, this Wallace Wood drawing of a woman (but, er, what about the two antennae on her brow?) being carried off by a couple of giant ants?
Via alt. binaries. pictures. erotica. cartoons.
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November 14th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
There Is A Line, Nor Is He This Side Of It
Here at ErosBlog we’ve had some spirited discussions surrounding the use of religious imagery and its intersection with eroticism. Although it can be hard to distinguish genuine religious hostility to sexuality from its much-more-common companion, culturally-conservative hostility as expressed by religionists who aren’t interested in clarifying the distinction, there can be little doubt that conflating sex and religion is a handy (even lazy) method for culture warriors on both sides to generate a lot of noise and heat with minimum expenditure of effort.
The ErosBlog editorial line is opposed to sex-negative cultural conservatives and warily neutral about organized religionists. Religious objection to erotic expression is most often risible, but if the expression in question seems mostly aimed at poking thumbs in eyes to generate cheap outrage, my sympathy for it does sometimes wane.
And that strikes me as the spirit behind the photographs linked from Spanking Blog, in which the photographer invaded a working-but-unattended church and arrayed schoolgirl-attired models in a variety of naughty poses, even unto the extremity of conducting simulated lesbian sex on the altar:
I suppose I would be untroubled by this if the artist had laboriously simulated the background for these photos in his studio. But I’ve enough of a respecter of property and civility to be sympathetic to the annoyed priest who took umbrage at this. An enormous amount of sweat and treasure went into the preparation of that altar as a space sacred to those parishioners, and it seems pretty dickish to disregard that so utterly in the pursuit of some artistic and sexy photographs.
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November 11th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
The Ginger Went Up Her Butt
The shooting conditions and model treatment during the production of kinky porn has been a recurrent topic of discussion here at Eros Blog. From severe European caning videos (here and here) to purest San Francisco kink (here and here), what it’s like to be the “done unto” model is always interesting to hear about.
Thus I viewed with fascination a cautionary video published by Kink.com last month about an Everything Butt shoot that featured a ginger figging. The ginger plug vanished up the model’s butt (Figging.com says they may have carved it wrong) and we get to see how they handled it, with narration by the model.
It’s all very calm and professional, although the visuals may raise your hair — at one point in the video, they’ve got a huge metal anal-retractor device in her bottom and it put me in mind of that immortal lyric from the end of Big Bad John by Jimmy Dean:
“With jacks and timbers they started back down,
Then came a rumble, way down in the ground.
Smoke and gas belched out of that mine
and everybody knew it was the end of the line
for Big John.”
Fig-carving art is from the Figging.com blog post about the incident, which also has a lot of details from the video.
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November 10th, 2009 -- by Bacchus
Take Back The Remote Control
“Muah ha ha you bastards, I have the remote control at last!”
From the videotape cover art for a 1973 extravaganza called Girls Are For Loving.
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