In the movies and the stories and the fantasies, if you order up a stranger off the internet for perverted sex, and meet for perverted sex, then the story is about perverted sex. Predictably, and sometimes boringly, so.

What I love about sex blogging is that down here on earth in real life, sometimes other stuff happens too, which makes for a more varied and interesting narrative.

For instance, when Bitchy Jones whistled up a submissive feller off the internet so she could do mean stuff to him, there was indeed some perverted sex, but not without a hitch you’ll never see in a dirty movie:

Just before Jack was due to arrive one of my next door neighbours came and told me they had seen my cat limping in the street. I went out to look for cat but there was no sign. I called Pan in a panic. I told him to turn around and come home so he could care for cat. It started to rain. I was standing in the street looking for the cat when Jack arrived.

Jack was all, ‘Hey are you standing in the street waiting for me?‘ And also all, ‘Hey, here I am. I have arrived for perverted sex.‘

And I was all, ‘No. Perverted sex is canceled. We must find lost injured cat ZOMGZ!‘

We found the cat. (Sorry if that stressed you — I probably should have warned at the top for mild cat peril.) I called Pan and told him I thought the cat would be okay until morning and that he should not come home after all.

Then Jack cooked. I kissed him quite a lot — endangering cooking. We did some painful things too. (Painful for him.) Some naked things. (Naked for him.) Some kneeling things. (Kneeling… (oh, get with it.))

I don’t know if his tongue stud felt so very different on my cunt — but on my nipples it was incredible. Bliss of death.

I love it. “Perverted sex is canceled!”

Enlightened men these days know better than to expect a woman to do their laundry. (Although, I must confess, The Nymph is so horrified by my “if it didn’t survive the hot cycle with my other clothes, I didn’t need to own it anyway” laundry philosophy that she doesn’t let me touch so much as a dirty sock these days.)

“Expect” is one thing. “Appreciate” is quite another:

From FEMJOY.

Mistress Matisse has some observations on making real money (“money to live comfortably, buy a house, create a retirement fund, build some security”) in the sex business:

If you want to make good money in the sex industry, then you need to do two things. One: get in the room with the client, and two: eliminate the middleman.

That means that any form of sex work you do which does not place you in the room with a client should be viewed as temporary and prone to marked fluctuations. Nice extra money, but not to be exclusively relied on to make you a steady, long-term living. So, phone sex, modeling, peep-shows, cam sites, and yes, porn videos — that kind of work can provide a continuous small trickle of money into your pocket, or it can occasionally inject a large wad of cash into your budget. But while I know a lot of people in the sex industry, I don’t personally know anyone who has made a decent living exclusively from such avenues for any long period of time.

(And no, the photographer who pays you to model for commercial publication is the not the client. He’s a middle-man. The guy who buys the magazine or joins the paysite is the client.)

The money in those gigs is a bit better if you own the venue. There was a window of time in which mom-and-pop porn sites could do pretty well. But unfortunately I think that era is over – between the federal government regulations, and the expansion of the corporate porn industry, a lot of indie porn sites have been muscled out of business, or at least out of the black.

As a middleman myself, or what’s worse, a middleman’s middleman, the guy who sells advertising to middlemen or sends them traffic, I can’t agree more with her “temporary and prone to marked fluctuations” characterization. “Eliminate the middleman” is the plain English, the $100 word from B-school is “disintermediation”, and I noticed long ago that without constant vigilance and a ready flexibility, I’m never more than six months away from being disintermediated right out of business. The internet is the great disintermediator, it brings the clients and the talent together in a way that makes middlemen increasingly seem irrelevant.

As an aside, this disintermediation effect means that indie porn continues to thrive, but at a lower level of visibility. How many indie camgirls are there out there, who hook up with clients on Craig’s List and turn on their webcams after he PayPals them forty bucks? I dunno. Neither do you. The biggest remaining barrier on the internet is the payment middleman — PayPal will kill that transaction if it can spot it. Of course, if you can literally get in the room with the client, good old fashioned folding cash money still works.

Matisse concludes:

So if you want to make a good living in the sex industry, my advice is: Set up your own shop, run the business yourself, and deal with your clients directly and personally. Don’t be fodder in someone else’s money machine.

And that’s advice you can take to the bank, in the sex industry or any other.

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Spanking Blog calls this spanking graffiti, but like all the best graffiti, it’s really just folk art in a public space:

Beats the hell (if you’ll pardon the pun) out of the boring “no parking” sign it’s painted next to!

Will someone please stop me from browsing through sex toy websites? Just when I think I’ve seen it all, they come up with something like the Anal Ring Toss game:

The Anal Ring Toss game is a new twist on a traditional ring toss game.

The designated “goalie” inserts the anal plug with the attached scoring pole into the butt. The players then attempt to throw one of the 3 plastic rings onto the pole. You score when your yellow ring successfully lands around the scoring pole in the goalie’s bum.

There are no set rules to this game. A fun set of instructions is included, but players are encouraged to make their own rules. Should the goalie move and shake the ass, or stay perfectly still? It is entirely up to the ring toss players.

What does the winner get? The goalie? It is entirely up to the players.

Please toss anal rings responsibly and have fun!

That’s right, please toss anal rings responsibly!

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It’s nice to know that in time of war, the highest priority of the Judge Advocate General’s Office of The United States Navy is to chase down the dangerous underwear smugglers who threaten the security of one of our most vital military installations:

Your client, Shaker Aamer, detainee ISN 239, was recently discovered to be wearing Under Armor briefs and a Speedo bathing suit. Neither item was issued to the detainee by JTF-Guantánamo personnel, nor did they enter the camp through regular mail. Coincidentally, Muhammed al-Qareni, detainee ISN 269, who is represented by Mr. Katznelson of Reprieve, was also recently discovered to be wearing Under Armor briefs. As with detainee ISN 239, the briefs were not issued by JTF-Guantánamo personnel, nor did they enter the camp through regular mail.

We are investigating this matter to determine the origins of the above contraband and ensure that parties who may have been involved understand the seriousness of this transgression. As I am sure you understand, we cannot tolerate contraband being surreptitiously brought into the camp. Such activities threaten the safety of the JTF-Guantánamo staff, the detainees, and visiting counsel.

Given the terrible risks to our national security posed by underwear smugglers, should we worry that the Navy is botching the job of catching them?

Let me briefly respond: First, neither I, nor Mr. Katznelson, nor anyone else associated with us has had anything to do with smuggling ‘unmentionable’ in to these men, nor would we ever do so.

Second, the idea that we could smuggle in underwear is far-fetched. As you know, anything we take in is searched and there is a camera in the room when we visit the client. Does someone seriously suggest that Mr. Katznelson or I have been stripping off to deliver underwear to our clients?

Third, your own records prove that nobody associated with my office has seen Mr. Aamer for a full year. Thus, it is physically impossible for us to have delivered anything to him that recently surfaced on his person. Surely you do not suggest that in your maximum security prison, where Mr. Aamer has been held in solitary confinement almost continuously since September 24, 2005, and where he has been more closely monitored than virtually any prisoner on the Base, your staff have missed the fact that he has been wearing both Speedos and ‘Under Armor’ for 12 months?

Thanks to Boing Boing for the link. And remember: we must all pull together to see our nation safely through the War On Clean Underwear!

Never let them tell you the Bible doesn’t have dirty bits! I just stumbled across this passage in an old Usenet .sig:

She was infatuated with their male prostitutes, whose members were like those of donkeys and whose seed came in floods like that of stallions. — Ezekiel 23:20

That translation is a bit more poetic than the KJV, but if you play with the various translations available at that link, you’ll see that it’s as accurate as any.

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