Judging by the number of “how can I get my wife to…” emails I’ve gotten over the years (answer: “Der… ask her maybe? Beg?”), there are a lot of households out there where this scenario could easily play out, more or less as written:

Bend over and grab your ankles.

What in the fuck is that?

Don’t play dumb. I’ve seen the bookmarks on your computer; you know exactly what this is. Now bend over and grab your ankles.

Those bookmarks don’t mean anything. It’s just crazy guy stuff. Just fantasy stuff. Not real.

Is that why you’re forking out all those credit card payments for memberships? I’m not an idiot, so don’t screw with me. Do it!

I don’t want to. I don’t want to do it for real.

Well, I really don’t give a shit if you want to do it for real. Quit your lying, quit your whining and bend over and grab your goddamn, fucking ankles!

I’m getting dressed and leaving. This is crazy. You’re crazy.

Is that what you want? You really want to leave? You really are going to pass this up?

What are you doing? Stop it?

Why? What’s wrong with me rubbing my girl cock up against your boy cock? Doesn’t that feel nice? Think how good it would feel to take it up the ass.

Stop it.

You don’t want me to stop it. Look: your boy cock is trying to grow nice and big like my big black leather one. I think it likes it.

It’s because your rubbing it with that stupid … that stupid thing. It’s friction. Of course, it’s going to react. I am a guy, after all. What do you expect?

I expect you to bend over and grab your ankles. You know you want to, so just do it.

I, um, I ….

Come on, just do it. I’ll just rub it up the crack. Come on, bend over.

Okay, I’ll let you play this stupid game. But don’t you dare try to put it in.

That’s good. Now lean shoulders into the ottoman so you don’t lose your balance, and grab your ankles. That’s it, like that. Just like that.

Which reminds me — Mistress Matisse had some trenchant advice recently for a man who wishes he was the star of that scenario above:

If you’re putting as much effort into making this idea attractive to your wife as you did in writing this email, I can see why she’s not going for the idea. I suggest you spend some time considering what’s in it for her to fulfill your fantasy. Is she going to get lots of orgasms? Or a long foot massage and dinner cooked for her? Or a new pair of Salvatore Ferragamo shoes? I think she should get all three, but that’s just me. Figure out what she wants, and give it to her. Then see about getting what you want.

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The trampling fetish, in which men fetishise being walked on or stomped on by women (I haven’t heard of the gender obverse version, which is not to say it’s not out there) has a long and colorful history, from Japanese geishas forward. But I was stunned to see it so explicit in this fragment from a 1950s magazine advertisement for fitted sheets. She’s stomping all over him, there’s probably two kids and a dog bouncing offscreen to the left, he’s looking up her lacy night-slip (or whatever you call that thing) with a big grin on his face, a great time being had by all, and it’s all because of the miracle of fitted sheets!

I am indebted to Spanking Blog for discovering and linking to Kinky Delight: Kink and Pleasure, a new-ish picture blog that covers a wide spectrum of kink with nice big juicy 1000-pixel-wide images. This is part of a whimsical and slightly disturbing old Japanese shunga print, click the image to see the whole thing:

I wonder if there’s a powder you can get to get rid of little people who are infesting your genitals? Do you think Gold Bond would do the trick?

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I know, I know! Referring to Daniel Radcliffe as his Harry Potter character does him a grievous disservice. But when you see the picture I just found on my hard drive, I think you’ll agree my title is a good choice:

I don’t remember where or when I found this, but it had to be after this post. He is gorgeous all the way around! Here’s the full size picture…..just in case anyone wants a better look.

(Who knew that working on a New Year’s resolution could be so fun?)

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This is an illustration that appeared in Esquire magazine more than half a century ago:

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Tentacle porn is, according to one of Vinnie Tesla’s college chums, like, so over. Tired. Stale. Unimaginative. Done. The natural world offers so many more exciting possibilities, you see:

Now, mind you, this is all from one phylum. Stepping back into the wider invertebrate kingdom yields even more possibilities. The whole lophotrochozoan group of phyla is replete with even more opportunities for deviance. I mean, come on now, there is an entire phyla called the Ectoprocts (yes, I have friends who are ectoproctologists) meaning exterior anus. These colonial buggers have an anus located right next to their mouth – which doubles as a sexual opening. The possibilities for a double penetration menage a trois are truly astounding. Add to that the fact that these beasties form calcified colonies, with specialized zooids representing all manner of shape and form, and – let’s just say that were our intrepid team of buffed macho bois to come upon the cave of the giant lusty crust, they could both engage, and be engaged in, almost any manner of mischief the author could concoct, with DPs all around!

There’s quite a lot more.

Link provided by a benefactor who wishes to remain anonymous.

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In the 17th century they were a little less blunt, but that’s the basic message of this poem, another gem from “Sportive Wit” by John Phillips:

Against Demur in Marriage

Prithee friend leave off thy fooling,
And at last resolve to do
What Loves pleasures never cooling,
Love and beauty prompt thee to.
Venus cares not for good-will,
But would have thee doing still.
Do but view that maid of mettle,
How the rose smiles on her cheek;
The flower’s defended by the nettle,
And the rose deserves a prick.
Crop it then before it wither:
Youth and Love decay together.
Call thy spirits up, and make her
Great as ever she can hold:
Leave her quite, or quickly take her;
Be thou either hot or cold.
Love and Religion both agree,
Luke-warm’s as bad as he or she.
Delays in drinking spoil good Claret;
Demurs make sick the maidenhead:
Sipping either doth but mar it;
Neither pleaseth, if once dead.
Take her then; no longer dally:
Worse then death is shally, shally.
Courage, man, to it; touch and take her:
Maids by hopes are oft beguiled:
Dallying, big will hardly make her;
Kisses never got a child.
Take her then and leave thy wooing:
Meaning’s not so good as doing.