10 Years Of Sex Blogging: Best Of ErosBlog 2006

Next Wednesday (October 3) will mark the first day of the eleventh year of operations here at ErosBlog. So it looks like this will the last of the “10 Years of Sex Blogging” retrospectives. That’s OK — covering the first five years has a decent symmetry to it. Without further ado, here’s 2006:

• My micro-rant on why lap dances in strip clubs are “DO NOT WANT” territory for me, plus somebody else’s tips for getting a good one: How To Get A Killer Lapdance
• I found possibly the best happy-exhibitionist photo I’ve ever seen: Half-Naked And Happy To Be There
• Of all the things I’ve ever written on ErosBlog, this essay on joy and BDSM acceptance is perhaps the post I’m most proud of: Two Smiles
• Remember that shower gel commercial with the tagline “How dirty girls get clean?” Yeah, me neither; or I wouldn’t, if I hadn’t managed to associate it in my mind with this memorable photo: Girl Washing
• I can’t recall laughing harder or longer over a web thing (unless maybe it was the immortal Dogs in Elk waaay back in the last century) than I did over this cybersex transcript that didn’t quite go the way the dude expected it to: And Who Shall Be Master?
• I don’t often lose myself in consumerist fantasies, but I confess I did the first time I saw this product for sale. It’s still for sale, but sadly, I still don’t have any: Leather Sheets
• I’ve softened my stance on the virtues of color blindness over the years (having been exposed to possibly-better arguments) but I haven’t come close to abandoning it. Here’s one of the places it got me griped at, especially in the comments: Nude Women, Skin Color, Huh?
• This post and its comments was one of the places I’ve tried to expound on the foolishness and impossibility of imposing our personal interpretations of art (here, pulpy sex comics) onto other people. Of course it got me snarled at, as it generally does: Whipped With A Hat On
• What’s going on when women dress themselves to be looked at, and then appear to resent the looks they get? I had a theory: On Looking At Women
• I think every sex blogger has taken a go at mocking the contents of sex spam. Here’s one of mine: Sex Spam Subject Lines
• This I still believe: “If you can’t see a person without having a racial classification for them pop into your head, you’re part of the problem.” Not Ignorant, Adamant
• Even a cartoon ’70s metrosexual (before they called them that) understood that a fist in her hair can make the blowjob better: Hair Pulling Blowjob
• In which I stand up for the proposition that not all men are dicks: No Gentlemen, No Sex Pictures
• I had forgotten until just now this back-and-forth with Susie Bright about the reasons for the gender imbalance in the sex blogging world: Sex Bias In Blogging
• I still want to know what happened to this sex doll: Sex Doll Accident
• I still don’t think Violet is wrong about a word of this: Public Submission Ritual
• Another effort on my part to demonstrate that the sexy elements in art are (and ought to be) available to the viewer no matter how reprehensible the artist, his motives, or his historical context: Male Soldiers Fucking
• My irritation with a certain class of creepy comments, it overfloweth: Flashing From A Window
• My opinion on fake boobs, followed by an opinion that arguably matters quite a bit more: Big Fake Boobs
• I still laugh every time I see this: Bill Versus The Penguin
• The topic of what it does (did) to our society to have porn go from “hard to get” to “available on all screens” is fascinating to me, and has been for a long time: Internet Porn For The Greater Good
• Title speaks for itself: Dirty Owl-Fucker!
• “Who wants to find herself covered with Winnie-the-Pooh BandAids after sex?” There’s always somebody: But Gardens Do Differ

Similar Sex Blogging:

• 10 Years Of Sex Blogging: Best Of ErosBlog 2005
• 10 Years Of Sex Blogging: Best Of ErosBlog 2004
• 10 Years Of Sex Blogging: Best Of ErosBlog 2003
• 10 Years Of Sex Blogging: Best Of ErosBlog 2002

The Delicate Tattoo, Revisited

So I was reading a modest rant (title: The Horrors of Porn) over at The Twisted Monk and it was going like this:

A common trend in porn would be body art, I know what you are going to say tattoos are as old as civilization so this is not a new development, I agree, but since most porn focuses primarily on the “point of contact”, ie the wet, pink bits, as they thrust away more and more talent are opting to get tattoos on their hips, asses and even genitals in order to retain some level of uniquely identifying marks, lest they get lost in the sea of shaved wangs and oddly tanned taints.

And I thought: “Aha!” For, I knew where this was going.

And I was right:

So when I noticed the female model sporting what at first glance looked to be…ahem… well how shall I put it, a stain on her pink bits? No, more of discolored ring around her asshole. I was naturally taken aback. Surely this site has the budget for some hand-wipes and a videographer with the brains to know that he will soon be shooting this girls bottom in hi-def so it would be in his best interest to make sure that he has a, shall we say tidy pallet from which to paint his jizz stained masterpiece.

No, no on second glance it was not a stain but rather a tattoo. Yes, dear readers a tattoo on that most taboo ring of muscle.

Like passing a highway fatality involving a bus full of crippled nuns colliding with a tanker truck carrying sulfuric acid, I had to stop and stare. What the hell would you posses you to get tattooed there?! Can you imagine that tattoo session? Can you say ouch? I don’t even want to think about the post ink healing process. 4 weeks of scabbing and itching anyone? How do you keep it sterile? Fuck that, how hell do you take a crap?! Gah! The mind reels. Sadly, or possibly thankfully, the series of images in question chose to opt against using the ULTRA zoom lens and show a close-up of said tattoo as it was taking on the business end of her co-star so I still have no idea exactly what she chose to have permanently etched upon the ring of her ass.

Fortunately, some of his commenters guided him to ErosBlog and thus, to enlightenment.

(Monk’s post also links to a different photograph of the tattoo in question, for those of you whose fascination with the topic is not yet fully satiated.)

Similar Sex Blogging:

• Faye's Picnic
• Amy Lee, Exposed
• PG-Rated Goatse.cx
• The Definitive Figging Collection
• Sweet Tattoo

Butthurt After Being Rejected By A Porn Star

I know this is supposed to be a sex blog and not a porn industry blog, dammit, but I’ve published ErosBlog for long enough to put me in the porn industry if you look at things just right, and this is where I blog. Anyway, I’m sharing this porn industry link for its sad sad comedy value. What happened is that a self-described “independent film maker” with “friends who work in your industry” posted a long rambling article to the leading adult webmaster board entitled “Porner’s Manifesto: How To Fix Your Industry“.

Some of the guy’s points are sort of obvious “how to do business” advice, but all mixed up with the unsolicited business advice were angry off-topic ranty bits about how porn stars should be more willing to sleep with their fans. I’ve excerpted heavily and taken liberties with paragraph order:

I know its hard but try to care about your fans. Afterall, if you did not have them, where would you be other than in some club trying to get noticed? Give something back to those who pay your bills and I am not talking about the director or producer. They get laid enough. You want to make a difference, try laying one of your fans. Get passed the fact that they do not look like your normal porn partners. So what? In a few years, you will not be as hot as the chick they will be supporting with their hard earned cash then. Build for your future. Ensure a fan for life. I promise you, one day your current fame or vision of fame will fade and what will you be?

Let’s get one thing straight. You have sex for money. Pure and simple. While I would agree this is an art form, it what it is. The only difference between a porn star and an escort is there is a camera involved. Yet, many of these stars tend to smoke the diva hash pipe. These so called stars are hot the day they arrive but once they have been around for awhile, a new girl comes right in to replace you. It doesn’t mean to get an attitude.

I overheard this porn chick one day at Starbucks in LA. Her and her agent were talking about how to increase her popularity and you can imagine the same bullshit. Go on KSex, web sites, radio, etc… So I mention the same things I just did above and the porner looked back at me and said and I quote: “Are you fucking stupid? Why would I ever want to fuck any of my fans? Have you ever seen my fans? They are fucking gross and fat. Why do you think they have to jerk off to me? The day I fuck my fans is the day I become a whore.â€? Now imagine that. I simply replied, you fuck for money, youre a whore.

Seriously, I have never seen an industry that ignores their fans the way porn stars do. Not to mention, these same stars are the ones who think they should be immune to the down times by charging the same rates to producers. I am unsure if anyone has tried to sit them down and explain that what they do isn’t that difficult to find someone else to do. Unless you shoot fireworks out of your vagina, you have sex on camera. It’s not something you went to college for. You do not need a special degree for it. You lay down, you have sex, and then take a brick in the mouth. But to listen to some girls, you would think they are curing world hunger or cancer. The only cancer they may be preventing is prostate cancer but thats still open to debate.

Anybody want to take odds that this guy has (or had) himself in mind as one of the fans “the talent” should be fucking for free? No, too easy? OK, what are the odds he’s actually tried, and failed miserably, to seduce a porn girl? (For “seduce” you could read “make a crude and lazy pass at” with, I suspect, great accuracy.)

The Two Dollar Girlfriend

I’m sure it’s never been easy being the girlfriend of a stage magician — if you’re not double careful, before you know it you’re chained in a glass box wearing a thong and two pasties, being sawed in half in front of an audience of strangers. But unexpected sexual practices? In a word, yes.

In the July issue of Harper’s magazine, professional magician Alex Stone has a long article about his trip to the World Championship of Magic, where he competed in the “Olympics of Magic” against the best stage magicians in the world. Earlier in the article, he mentions his new girlfriend Rachel, whose frequent attentions kept him from practicing his routine as much as he perhaps ought to have. Then, he begins to describe his own competition routine, and gets to talking about the practice of palming coins:

After the vanish, I press the coin with the middle and index fingers into the center of my palm, where it’s held in place by a slight contraction of the muscles. This is the Classic Palm, the most important concealment in all of coin magic. Read the coin worker’s bible, J. B. Bobo’s Modern Coin Magic: “This is one of the most difficult of all concealments to master but one of magic’s finest secrets. The layman cannot imagine it possible to conceal a coin in this way.”

…

Part of mastering a palm involves learning to conceal objects while the hands are otherwise engaged. Following the advice of the masters, I go through much of my daily life with coins classic-palmed in both hands — on the subway, at dinner parties, and even during sex.

Emphasis added.

As I said, it must be a challenge to be a magician’s girlfriend. Some women, you come to bed with a dollar in each hand, they aren’t going to take it kindly. I’m just sayin’.

Lying For Your Business: Etology.com

There is no sex in this post — it’s a post about the business of blogging. Feel free to skip it.

Short version: this is a warning to my fellow adult bloggers about a very dubious pitch you may have received recently. Etology.com is sending out spammy emails to adult bloggers in which the company feigns an interest in buying ads, only to abandon that pretense once you answer the email. Without further ado, having confirmed your interest in selling ads, they begin giving the hard sell for ad brokerage services — not buying any ads at all, but rather, offering your ad space to their network of potential advertisers. Classic bait-and-switch: first the false offer (the bait) to get your attention, then the switch to the real offer. Illegal in some jurisdictions, scummy everywhere.

Long version follows.

On Monday, I received a curious email:

Subject: I want to Buy Ad Space on erosblog.com

Greetings,

I would like to buy advertising space on your website erosblog.com. Do you have anything available? Please let me know.

Best Regards,

Tai Kinney
Account Manager
www.Etology.com

Emails like this are not uncommon. What made this one curious is that Etology.com is an advertising broker; they act as a middleman between web publishers and web advertisers, collecting a commission on all the advertising transactions they touch, and helping to facilitate those transactions. I would expect them to be making a pitch to broker any available ad space ErosBlog might have, but buying advertising space here? It didn’t make sense. The “spam or con job” hairs on the back of my neck went up.

No matter; they got one of my standard responses, the low-effort one I save for leads I don’t think will amount to anything:

Hi, Tai. Ad space on Erosblog is available through the Blogads “advertise on ErosBlog” links in the ErosBlog sidebars. Prices and availability are visible when you follow those links.

Thanks for your interest!

I will confess to sending the above in a spirit of modest mischief. Even if Etology.com had a genuine interest in buying advertising space on ErosBlog, the idea that they might wish to do so via the services of a competing ad brokerage service (BlogAds) is, perhaps, implausible.

When I sent the above email, my “send-and-receive” email operation brought an identically worded email addressed to another one of my sites, with the only word of difference being the domain name. Asking about buying ad space via bulk email? Really? The unlikely inquiry now began to seem downright implausible.

And sure enough, my next communique from Etology.com was strangely silent about the ad space they wanted to buy just three hours and twenty-seven minutes previously:

Thank you for your quick response. I just want to mention that we are the largest adult advertising network and we have great relationships with big advertisers like rude.com, redtube.com, youporn.com, and many others. We offer the highest industry publisher payouts and I would like the opportunity to help you better monetize your ad space. I’m very interested in working with you and your website, please contact me so that we can see if we are a good fit.

Regards,

Tai Kinney
Account Manager
www.Etology.com

That’s a form letter, an email macro, and it contains the standard ad brokerage sales pitch: “to help you better monetize your ad space.” Which, it may surprise you to learn, I am not against. Monetization buys me beer and bacon and dinners out with The Nymph. But there’s the little matter of the bait and switch, which is so offensively blatant and dishonest that it has — not to put too fine a point on things — righteously pissed me off. What, am I supposed to be too stupid to notice that the bait has been yanked away?

More serious than me being pissed off is the issue of trust. Ad brokers, like affiliate programs, are notorious for collecting services from webmasters (in this case, ad inventory, page views for web ads) and then being slow to pay, or finding some lame excuse (“bad traffic” is the vague classic) not to pay at all, or simply getting behind on payments and then going out of business without paying anybody. It happens all the time.

Which means, of course, that if you do business on the web, business that involves collecting, holding, and transmitting money on behalf of webmasters, you need to be (or at least to look) as trustworthy as a bank. Your fundamental business challenge is to convince webmasters to trust you with their money. And that’s not easy. Webmasters who have been been repeatedly burned are a hostile and suspicious lot, when it comes to trying the next great new program. We’ve heard all the monetization promises before, and been burned by too many of them.

One way in which you do NOT gain a reputation for being trustworthy is to lie to your potential business associates in your very first freaking email to them. As J.P. Morgan once famously said, “A man I do not trust could not get money from me on all the bonds in Christendom.” Thus, my interest in pursuing Etology’s offer to broker my ad inventory, an interest that was never very high, is now … how shall I put this delicately? … very low.

Nonetheless, I was fascinated by the blatant nature of the initial deception, and amused by the slight dissonance resulting from the macro/form-letter nature of their brokerage pitch. In response to my response, they sent me a standard brokerage marketing pitch with out-of-place “please contact me” phrasing. Let’s ask about that, aggressively:

Er, I’m confused. I just DID contact you in response to a request from you to buy ad space. Why are you asking me to contact you a second time? Was your first email just a bait-and-switch spam to advertise your ad brokerage service? If so, that’s an exceptionally dubious business practice that’s not encouraging me to explore doing business with you.

In all honesty, I never expected to hear from them again. I was forgetting that it never pays to underestimate the tenacity, or overestimate the chutzpah, of a commissioned salesperson:

I apologize for the confusion. I just wanted to see if there was any interest in me helping you monetize your ad space on your website. Like I said before we are the largest adult advertising network and we have the highest industry publisher payouts. My intention is to help pair up our advertisers with publishers that have great sites like yours. Please let me know if there is any interest.

Thank you for your time,

Tai Kinney
Account Manager
www.Etology.com

Well, there we have it — a bare apology (for my confusion, natch, not for anything Tai actually did) and the sales pitch a second time. At least it’s now fairly clear that Tai never had any interest in buying ad space; the deceptive intent in the first email is now confirmed.

Sometimes the devil gets in me, and I write challenging emails to people. This was one of those times:

I’m sorry, Tailynn, but I’m still not sure I understand what’s going on here. The first email from you had the following subject line: “I want to Buy Ad Space on erosblog.com.” The first sentence of that email was “I would like to buy advertising space on your website erosblog.com.”

You are now saying “I just wanted to see if there was any interest in me helping you monetize your ad space.” That’s really quite different, and not, I think, a matter of “confusion” if your only interest is in brokering sales of ad space on behalf of third-party advertisers. That would not be confusion on my part, but rather, deception on yours.

So, which is it? Was your initial inquiry in respect to buying ad space, or brokering it?

I note with interest that I am now receiving queries identical to your first at some of my other blog properties. Right now it looks very much to me like you are engaging in deceptive spam practices, unless there’s some aspect to our communications which I am misunderstanding. I hope you can clear this up for me?

At this point, Tai’s best plan would have been to fess up to the deception, apologize for it, wish me a nice day, and move on, hoping I would forget all about it and never mention it to anyone.

What I got was the first two things in eight words, a miraculous verbal economy. This full and fair but extremely sparse apology was followed by — you guessed it! — more sales pitch. First sentence: I’m sorry I lied to you. Next seven sentences: now let me tell you how great it’s going to be doing business with you!

I apologize for being misleading in my inquiries. Let me start over. My company Etology.com is an adult advertising network that helps pair up advertisers with publishers like yourself that have great sites. We’ve developed extensive relationships with big advertisers like youporn, rude.com, and redtube to name a few. We also have a large selection of network ads. My offering to you is to place advertising on your site to help monetize your ad space, thus helping you make money from your site. The types of ads available to you are GTBs, text, banner, commercial breaks, and in-video XML. Please let me know if you have any questions.

Best Regards,

Tai Kinney
Account Manager
www.Etology.com

Astonishing. Shorter Tai: “I lied, I’m sorry, but I don’t see why we can’t still do business.”

I decided to decline the invitation to let Tai start over. Churlish of me, I suppose. Instead, I offered Tai the short lecture on business ethics, along with modest foreshadowing as to why it’s not smart to lie to bloggers on behalf of your internet company:

Tailynn, thank you for being — on your fourth try — straightforward with me. I’ll try to be as straightforward with you.

As it happens, I am interested in finding another ad broker. I had previously looked at Etology, but your website contains no information suggesting that it is an adult-advertising friendly network, so I had dismissed it as a possibility.

However, your initial contact with me was, as you have now admitted, a deliberate lie. You are spamming bloggers with a false and misleading inquiry in an attempt to get attention, and then you are baiting and switching, disclaiming any interest in buying ad space and instead offering your brokerage services.

Not only is that unconscionable as a spamming technique, it is laughably stupid. It establishes you and your company as untrustworthy, which is a very poor basis for attracting new publishers to your network. A publisher has to trust an ad broker with collection and remission of funds. How on earth could I trust your company with my money, when your initial business contact with me consisted of a blatant and deliberate lie?

I am planning to complain publicly about your mendacious business practices to provide warning to the blogging community, but before I do so, I’d like to give someone in a position of higher authority in your organization an opportunity to comment on whether this sort of mendacious business practice is consistent with your corporate policies. Do you have any suggestions as to whom I should forward my complaint and request for corporate comment? Or shall I simply start with your abuse and support emails and work from there?

That one was sent after close of business Monday. A couple of hours into Tuesday’s business day, there was no response. As I was indeed planning to make this blog post, it seemed only fair to Etology to give them at least one shot to spin this their way. So I sent the following email to support@, abuse@, Tai, and to Brock Purpura, Etology CEO, whose email I deduced from press releases and from the Etology.com standard email conventions:

Subject: Complaint And Request For Corporate Comment

Hello. I have a complaint about Etology’s email marketing practices. Specifically, one of your Account Managers is spamming adult bloggers with a deceptive come-on, claiming that Etology wants to “buy” ad space and then, once this lie gets a blogger response, switching over to the standard “we’d like to help you monetize your ad space” broker sales pitch. As you are in the brokerage business, there can be no doubt that your sales managers know the difference between “buy” and “help monetize”, so the initial email appears to be an obvious and deliberate lie.

I consider lying to prospective customers to be an abusive and deceptive marketing practice that reflects extremely badly on Etology.com. I will, for whatever little it may be worth, be making my disgust at this marketing practice public, on my blog, tomorrow morning.

However, I am conscious that in a competitive sales environment, sales personnel sometimes do things that are not in accord with company policy. Accordingly, I have decided to hold off on making my complaint public until tomorrow morning, and to send this email in the interim. Please forward this email to whomever in your company might wish to comment on whether lying to generate sales leads comports with Etology’s accepted business ethics and policies.

The “abuse” email address bounced, no such address. None of the others bounced. Thirty six minutes later, I had my answer. There is a {snip} in the middle; I have elided (for brevity) four more paragraphs of sales pitch about Etology’s ad brokerage services:

I know that you are upset and I apologize for the choice of words that were used in the emails below. Tailynn is fairly new and may have overstepped with her first few emails.

I would like to provide an explanation of what Etology does. We are an online ad network that pairs up advertisers and publishers. Simple as that. We broker the ads and pay the publishers 75% of all the earnings. We pay our internally managed publishers twice a month, as opposed to net 30, like other ad networks.

{snip}

I apologize again, but hope I have cleared up any misunderstandings about our service and practices. I will be here to answer any questions or address concerns that you have about our service and practices. Feel free to contact me through instant message if that is easier for you. Thank you.

Jeff Sue
Account Manager
www.etology.com

This is standard PR smoothing, consisting of an acknowledging my aggrieved status followed by a non-apology apology. The “choice of words” is apologized for, but the underlying deception? Nope. This was a matter of unfortunate phrasing, nothing more, now let me tell you how we are going to get rich together!

Those of you in the adult industry will also recognize, and be laughing at, that phrase “Tailynn is fairly new.” Whenever an adult industry company is caught spamming, shaving, stealing web page designs, or doing anything else unsavory, the standard PR response is that “it was a new employee, and we didn’t know about the behavior.” It’s such a predictable response that it’s become something of an inside joke.

To be fair, in this case I wouldn’t be surprised if the bog-standard excuse also turned out to be actually true. The bait-and-switch deception is such a phenomenally bad idea from a business standpoint that it very well might be the act of a new employee desperate and eager to make a tough sales quota. But in that case, shouldn’t I be hearing an unequivocal disavowal of the practice, and an apology for something more substantial than “choice of words”? No, Jeff said “Tailynn … may have overstepped with her first few emails.” Or maybe not; for Jeff, it’s a wobbler. Maybe we really do approve of lying to sales leads? Jeff doesn’t know; Jeff can’t say.

Of course you know I had to write back to him:

Jeff, I appreciate your email, and I’ll be including the pertinent paragraphs in the blog post I make about this matter. Unfortunately, I find your reaction to this problem to show a disturbing lack of concern.

This is not a “choice of words” issue. One of your people is *lying* to prospective business contacts. Your response fails to indicate whether Etology condones that behavior; when you say she “may have overstepped” you leave open that she may *not* have. I’m looking for an unequivocal response from Etology.com as to whether, as a matter of corporate policy, she did.

Let me be explicit. Like everyone who does business on the internet, I prioritize my email responses. Spammish emails offering me business services like your ad brokerage receive attention at a much lower priority than requests to purchase advertising. By sending a fraudulent request to buy advertising, your person is deliberately exploiting this difference in priorities — lying to get to the head of the line. Obviously, when the lie is discovered, it creates anger and resentment, along with a fundamental lack of trust that — one would think — is a problem for a company that’s expected to collect and remit funds to its publisher customers.

I used to work in an office where salesmen would lie to our receptionist, claiming to be clients, in order to get their sales calls forwarded to my desk. Obviously, they and their companies went on my permanent blacklist for this behavior. My current complaint — and my reaction to it — is analogous. But, now that we live in the era of blogs and Google, I can more easily “share my blacklist” (and the reasons for it) with the world, in the interest of making this sort of behavior off limits for reputable companies.

Accordingly, I think it would be in Etology’s best interest to disavow this marketing practice in unequivocal words.

Thanks for your time.

Writing that email forced me to figure out why I care as much about this as I do. We live in an attention economy these days, and prioritizing our attention is vital to business success. I (well, me and my filters) sort four or five thousand emails a day, most of them spam and most of the rest, bacn. Sorting out the tiny but significant fraction of business email from people who actually want to send me money? That’s a vital business function that takes a lot of time and effort. Lying to me in an effort to subvert my vital business functions? Way to piss me off.

Lying for attention is theft of attention, and it’s not just a minor offense. Time is money, and stealing one is as bad as stealing the other. If the corporate culture at Etology.com is honestly supportive of this type of deception, they are not a company I’d enjoy having to trust for a monthly check.

Jeff’s response, this morning:

I am very concerned about all customers of Etology/AVN. Without our customers being happy and satisfied, we would not exist as the largest adult ad network.

As I mentioned Tailynn is fairly new here. It was not that she was lying, it’s just that she took the wrong approach and didn’t explain herself properly (as we do offer to buy adspace out right for a flat rate). I’m sure you can understand how issues happen when you are new on a job. Regardless, the lack of information resulted in your time used on deciphering, which ultimately led to mistrust. Again, I apologize for that.

We have addressed the issue with Tailynn and management and offer our customer support to your questions and concerns.

Jeff Sue
Account Manager
www.etology.com

So there you have it, another non-apology apology, apologizing for my reaction and my “mistrust” rather than for the actual wrong done. No, wait, I forgot, Jeff says “I would like to buy advertising space” was not a lie, even though the person writing it had no intention of buying advertising space, because the company more broadly does sometimes (but not this time) “offer to buy adspace.” Sorry, Jeff, but Tailynn herself told me “I just wanted to see if there was any interest in me helping you monetize your ad space.” Tailynn herself said “I apologize for being misleading in my inquiries.” If there was ever any intention to “buy” ad space on Erosblog, I gave Tailynn three chances to say so. She never did. If Etology.com cannot recognize the deliberately deceptive bait-and-switch, and acknowledge that it was problematic, Etology.com is not a safe company to do business with.

If any other webmasters have received dishonest solicitations from Etology.com, I’d be interested in hearing about it in the comments. And especially, if there’s any adult blogger from whom Etology.com has actually bought advertising space outright (as opposed to brokering it through their network) I’d like to hear about it.

Stripping For The Wolf Whistles

This story is interesting — an Israeli woman in New Zealand took offense at the wolf whistles from some construction workers, so she shut them up by stripping off all her clothes before going about her business at an ATM machine.

The interesting part is that she’s the one who got a trip to the police station. Apparently in New Zealand, harassing women on the street is considered normal and acceptable by the cops, but being naked is not:

“She was taken back to the police station and spoken to and told that was inappropriate (behavior) in New Zealand,â€? Police Sgt. Peter Masters said.

I’m not slamming New Zealand here; I can easily imagine this same reaction in many a U.S. town. But it does seem a touch old-fashioned, no?

Story via Naked Protesters.

Similar Sex Blogging:

• Construction Site Sex Toon

Elliot Spitzer, Whoremonger And Hypocrite?

This just in from the New York Times:

Gov. Eliot Spitzer has been caught on a federal wiretap arranging to meet with a high-priced prostitute at a Washington hotel last month, according to a person briefed on the federal investigation.

The wiretap recording, made during an investigation of a prostitution ring called Emperors Club VIP, captured a man identified as Client 9 on a telephone call confirming plans to have a woman travel from New York to Washington, where he had reserved a room. The person briefed on the case identified Mr. Spitzer as Client 9.

…

The man described as Client 9 in court papers arranged to meet with a prostitute who was part of the ring, Emperors Club VIP, on the night of Feb. 13. Mr. Spitzer traveled to Washington that evening, according to a person told of his travel arrangements.

Classy guy, screwing around on his wife the night before Valentine’s day, eh?

Here’s a nice photo of the family man with his wife and three daughters:

(I found that photo on an adult webmaster board along with the cruel-but-funny caption: “Daddy’s been banging some prostitutes, girls, so let’s all go to church!”)

I’ll leave the detailed analysis to Susie Bright, who really enjoys tearing into the sexual hypocrisy of conservative old white male politicians (into which camp Spitzer, though a Democrat, surely falls, thanks to his reputation as an aggressive, even rabid, law-and-order prosecutor). I’ll just say there surely must be a special circle in hell for prosecutors who enjoy a particular vice while denouncing that same vice and sending people to jail for it:

Mr. Spitzer gained national attention when he served as attorney general with his relentless pursuit of Wall Street wrongdoing. As attorney general, he also had prosecuted at least two prostitution rings as head of the state’s organized crime task force.

In one such case in 2004, Mr. Spitzer spoke with revulsion and anger after announcing the arrest of 16 people for operating a high-end prostitution ring out of Staten Island.

“This was a sophisticated and lucrative operation with a multitiered management structure,” Mr. Spitzer said at the time. â€?It was, however, nothing more than a prostitution ring.â€?

Update, courtesy Jay Leno: “In the governor’s defense, he was bringing prostitution to its knees… one woman at a time.”

Second update: Susie’s take, as anticipated.

The Porn We Don’t Show You

It sounds like the Girl With A One Track Mind has been getting some of the same emails ErosBlog gets, trying to promote some of the porn I try not to promote:

During the four years I have been writing this blog I have regularly received emails from one particular contingent of the internet. It doesn’t take much guessing who: porn sites who want me to link, plug and promote their products. Usually I just scan these emails and deposit them straight into my spam folder. Why? I’ll explain, using an email I received last night as a good example.

“Dear Abby,” it begins, “Like you, I am very interested in getting discussion of sex, naughtiness ad [sic] all things deeed [sic] taboo by the Great British public [sic] into the wide world.”

Even given the atrocious spelling, this sounded promising.

However, the email then continued and asked me to plug a certain satellite television station where there would be “lezzed-up action,” “two girls will get seriously hardcore,” and where the show would include “full-frontal bean-flicking, boob bouncing, cunt lapping fun.”

As soon as I read that the email got junked, along with all the other offers to extend the size of my penis or buy generic viagra.

Yeah, you can bet I get mail like this every day. The Girl has a variety of issues with it, but I pick up here with her third issue, which I endorse wholeheartedly:

I might be willing to plug some porn, if the stuff recommended to me wasn’t so dreadfully offensive and insulting to my sex. Clicking on the link the porn webmaster (and yes, besides wonderful people like Ms Naughty, there are very few porn webmistresses) sent me, I found the following titles:

“Hotel Bitches”
“Bitch in a box”
“Cunt suckers”
“Babe spotting”
“Dirty pig”

And this is a sample that is relatively pleasant; there’s also the usual labelling of women as sluts or whores, alongside the bitches, babes, cunts and nymphos. Whichever it is, it’s the same thing overall: if there is sex onscreen, it’s likely to be focussed on the women, and those women have to be insulted and degraded (in words and/or perhaps actions) in some way. To my mind, this is just as offensive to men as it is to women – suggesting that men can not get off on explicit imagery that is not disrespecting women. Excuse me, but I think that is utter bollocks. Naked people fucking are naked people fucking and it’s hot to watch – so why bring in the sexist and misogynist titles?

It’s this position that most porn defaults to, that I find so offensive. And, let me be frank, a turn off too. There’s nothing like a bit of sexism (and racism) to put a girl off her stroke – and this girl likes her stroke very fucking much, thanks, hence why I am so particular about the porn I consume.

I’ve called this the “bitch-cunt-slut” porn marketing syndrome, and frankly it baffles me. Who enjoys that? Obviously some pornographers think that’s what heats up their male market, but are they right? Who are these men supposedly buying this stuff? The men I know love women. Yeah, some of them have old fashioned redneck attitudes and don’t really respect women as equals, but they still love them.

They don’t want a “bitch in a box” — even in a bondage fantasy, they want a hot babe in a box.

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Brian Eno On Pornography

From a 1974 profile of Brian Eno, found via Bondage Blog:

His voice trails off as he spies a copy of Search magazine. He leafs through it with obvious pleasure, but the gleam in his eyes softens, and sadly he shakes his head, “It’s a burning shame that most people want to keep pornography under cover when it’s such a highly developed art form — which is one of the reasons that I started collecting pornographic playing cards I’ve got about 50 packs which feature on all my record covers for the astute observer.

“There’s something about pornography which has a similarity to rock music. A pornographic photographer aims his camera absolutely directly, at the centre of sexual attention. He’s not interested in the environment of the room.

“I hate the sort of photography in Penthouse and Playboy which is such a compromise between something to give you a hard-on and something which pretends to be artistic. The straight pornographers aim right there where it’s at.

“Which is analogous to so many other situations where somebody thinks one thing is important, so they focus completely on that and don’t realize they’re unconsciously organizing everything else around it as well. I have such beautiful pornography – I’ll show you my collection sometime.

The last guy invited me up to see his etchings.

“One theory is that black-and-white photography is always more sexy than colour photography. The reason for this is provided by Marshall McLuhan, who points out that if a thing is ‘high definition,’ which colour photography is, it provides more information and doesn’t require participation as much as if it is ‘low definition’.” I.e. a horror play on the radio is always very, very frightening because the imagery is always your own. If youUre choosing your own imagery, you’ll always choose the most frightening, or in the case of pornography, the most sexual.

“The idea of things being low definition has always interested me a lot – of being unspecific – another thing which is a key-point of my lyrics. They must be ‘low definition’ so that they don’t say anything at all direct. I think the masters of that were Lou Reed and Bob Dylan (on “Blonde on Blonde”). The lyrics are so inviting.

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT ‘burning shame’ is by the way? It’s a pornographic term for a deviation involving candles.

“Ouch!”

“Very popular in Japanese pornography. They’re always using lit candles because Japanese pornography is very sadistic, partly because of the Japanese view of women, which is a mixture of resentment and pure animal lust.

“In the traditional view, a woman is still expected to be at the beck and call of her husband, so that manifests itself in that kind of pornography. Of which I have a few examples, of course.

“Mexican pornography is an interesting island of thought because they seem to be heavily into excretory functions. The traditional American view is that anything issued from the body is dirty. It’s incredibly puritanical and it resents bodily fluids, so if one is trying to debase a woman, you cover them with that and hence you get the fabulous term ‘Golden Showers’ — the term for pissing on someone, which some well-known rock musicians are said to be very involved in…

“Here come the warm jets?”

“That’s certainly a reference.”

Client Gets Screwed

The thing about erotic story repositories on the internet that makes them so interesting is that they are structurally noncommercial. Which is to say, for the most part, they accumulate the sort of erotic fiction that nobody wants to be in the business of selling in print.

It would be easy to say more generally that amateur erotic fiction isn’t of commercial quality, but that’s a cop-out; it’s so hard to make money selling erotic fiction that, strictly speaking, virtually all of it that exists isn’t “commercial quality” if you define that as “you could sell enough of this to be worth publishing it.” No, I’m talking about thematic elements that would, at the very least, complicate any commercial distribution, themes and scenarios that make business people nervous and/or queasy. Rape, incest, sex at any age, bestiality, rare fetishes, social taboos, and every imaginable combination thereof: “I caught my teacher fucking her dog and blackmailed her with the photos, I made her wear sweaty rubber boots, call me Master, and suck my cock in the supply closet — and then I made her take my little brother and his Nintendo buddies on a field trip to the petting zoo!”

This, of course, is a specific instance of the general case, the root nature of the internet that makes it so wonderful and terrible. No matter how narrow your interest, you can get anything you want, but you’ll find it cheek-by-jowl with a million things that will raise your eyebrows until they ache.

Doubt me? Go have a look at The Kristen Archives. If there’s a better place on the internet to find sex stories, I haven’t seen it. But you simply must be adult about it. Skim the summaries; if a story’s not for you, don’t read it. For extra credit and true advancement toward mastery, cultivate the ability to appreciate what’s hot about a story while disregarding the elements (stylistic or thematic) that aren’t.

Your example for the day is Screwed, featuring an amoral attorney who’s clearly more excited by the financial screwing he gives his client than he is by the blowjob he enjoys from her. If you’re a professional of any kind, you might find yourself too outraged to enjoy the story. Which would be a shame, because there’s no law that says villains can’t be funny in the conduct of their villainy:

I wound my hand in her hair and jerked her head back and forth, each time forcing more of my dick into her mouth until she was almost choking, but she never pulled back. When she reached between her legs and began playing with her pussy as I roughly jerked her head onto my cock, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. She was getting off on the rough treatment. I would like to have experimented more, but the tremendous mental and physical stimulation pushed me over the top, and with almost painful jets, I shot a copious load of jism down her throat, my cock unbelievably huge and purple looking, the orgasm without a doubt the best I’d ever experienced in a woman’s mouth, making it feel even better.

I collapsed backward onto my elbows, basking in the after-glow, my cock still twitching in her hand as she licked her lips and swallowed the remains of my wad. Then, squeezing up the length of my cock, she forced up a final dollop of sperm, and looking at me, and squeezing the huge drip onto her tongue, she let me watch her spread it around her mouth and slowly and with a sensuous grin, swallowed the entire thing. Then, as though not yet satisfied, she sucked my cock clean of every last drop of cum, kissed my balls tenderly and sat back in her chair with a brilliant smile, rearranging her skirt, giving me a shot of her unpantied beaver before dropping the skirt primly into place.

I let my head drop back onto the desk, eyes closed, trying to regain my strength. I’d never had a head shot like that. The woman was a vampire — she positively loved cum. I glanced at the clock and with a shock realized that she’d sucked me for almost 20 minutes, and that we were almost through the lunch hour. Quickly, I refigured her bill. I’d need to get paid for that extra hour now, and — what the hell — she’d just had her lunch on me! I tacked $50.00 dollars onto her bill. That would make it $350.00. But then I realized that she’d probably dicker with me, so I threw on another $100.00 to give me something to work with, for a total of $450.00 less her discount. I’d just gotten paid $150.00 for blowing my wad down my client’s throat!

As I watched her repair her lipstick, I thought about the glimpse of her hairy cooze I’d gotten as she’d pulled the skirt down. I was still excited and the thought of fucking this ‘respectable’ mother of two made my cock start to stand up again. I didn’t bother to put it away.

“Well, Karen, that was great — you certainly have talent — but now there’s the matter of your bill.”

Well, of course, she’d expected that the entire bill would be forgiven based on her performance, but I gave her a lecture on overhead travel fees, etc., then made my pitch for the discount. But before I did it, a perverse streak caused me to quote her $550.00 as my bill to see what she’d say. She seemed taken aback, but I pointed out that I’d done a lot of research before we’d gone to court. I gently explained to her that just because she’d assumed that I’d dismiss the whole bill didn’t constitute a contract because we’d had no discussion beforehand. Then I asked her what she thought her services had been worth. Just as I thought, she undervalued them-obviously low self esteem-and dubiously quoted $100.00. I could have backed her down, but I had another plan in mind. I accepted her offer, and generously knocked off another $50.00 to show good faith. That term always gets them, even though it meant nothing in this case. Now we were down to $400.00.

She had brightened appreciably. I then offered her a chance to knock the bill down another $50.00 if I could fuck her — and I said it just like that. She acted as though the very words turned her on. But, believe it or not, she was getting bolder, and came back with $100.00. We finally settled on $75.00. I was on a roll, and I could have gotten her down to $50.00 — but, what the hell, I’m not totally devoid of conscience!

Cookie Cutter Porn Paysites

Why do people pay for porn on the internet, when you can get so much for free?

It’s a fair question. But before you can answer it, it’s important to understand that there are two different kinds of pay-for-porn sites on the internet.

The first kind, the kind that I find most interesting, is the kind that has exclusive, unique content. These sites either shoot their own pictures and video to get the stuff they want to sell, or they work with a producer who is willing to sell porn to them (and them only) for the paysite’s exclusive use.

Paying for that kind of porn is pretty much a no-brainer, if it’s the kind of porn you like. It only comes from one place, and if you pay, you get it fresh and served up complete, at the best available resolutions, properly labeled and with any supporting prose that may come with it. Sure, all that content will be everywhere on the internets next week, but you’ll have to hunt it down piecemeal, deal with short clips and incomplete photosets and generally have a lower quality experience. Lots of folks have the money to get what they want, when they want it, in the best available format. Subscriptions make sense for that, and that’s the target market for the paysite ads and affiliate links you’ll usually find some of on ErosBlog.

And then there’s the other kind of paysite, the cookie cutter kind. There are a metric buttload of these out there. These sites buy non-exclusive photos and video from all kinds of porn distributors, throw them up behind three or four custom “tour” pages, and start selling subscriptions. These sites may or may not ever get updated, but your credit card rebills will continue until you cancel (not always a smooth and easy process).

Why do people sign up for these? Really, two answers. The first is instant gratification — they generally do have a small pile of porn behind the pay gate that matches what’s on the tour. If you just want to see that, your seven dollar trial is no different than buying a magazine based on liking the cover. Assuming you are good about canceling after the trial, it could make sense.

The second answer, of course, is lack of market sophistication. You could be confusing the cookie cutter sites with the “real thing” — and hope, or imagine, that you’ll find an updated supply of quality porn inside once you’ve ponied up. A lot of the cookie cutter sites market themselves very aggressively, and there’s real potential for market confusion.

The purpose of this post is to share with my readers a revealing Ebay auction, which is marketing the remnants of an adult webmaster business featuring those cookie cutter sites. (If you don’t have access to the adult areas on Ebay, the seller references “full details” on the adult webmaster boards, and a quick search turns up this alternate link.)

Basically, what’s for sale is an affiliate program and the mostly empty shell of fourteen cookie-cutter paysites, only one of which is being sold with the dirty pictures that make it a going concern. The real assets are the domains (mostly pretty poor quality from an investment standpoint, like hungarianxxx.com), the email lists (emails of former and current customers, emails of former and current affiliates), the traffic to the domains, and a flow of “rebills” from existing customers.

What makes this auction interesting to me is the implicit admission in several places that the sites themselves are worthless shit. The quotes below give you the flavor:

Here’s some info about EZA Cash. After a decade in the business, I want to get out of owning adult sites and focus on my freelance writing and other ventures. I’m not looking for a fortune for these sites. The exclusive content that comes with CumFacedAsians cost around $10k to shoot and the design of that site was another $2k by one of the top designers in the biz at the time (Michael Alden/Zaynee Creations). It converts very nicely when the tour is updated regularly.

[I believe that’s code for “If the tour pages are changed regularly so that folks don’t realize this is the same site they harvested all the dirty pictures from four months ago.” — Bacchus]

EZA Cash is a CCBill affiliate program that was opened in 2003 with the launch of CumFacedAsians. More sites were added on a regular basis until the current lineup of 14 paysites was reached. The affiliate program currently has over 3,000 webmasters signed up, and we haven’t e-mailed these affiliates with hosted galleries or encouraged them to send traffic since 2005. Still, there is plenty of affiliate traffic coming to the sites and that would greatly increase with a couple of mailings and some fresh promo material. CumFacedAsians, the flaship site, has 10 exclusive 30 minute bj videos and 10 exclusive photo sets (all of the content used in the design elements of the tour is exclusive, so this site wouldn’t need redesigned to be usable).

[The guy has been operating for four years with just five hours of video and ten photosets. Such a value for members! — Bacchus]

The rest of the paysites on EZA Cash are non-exclusive and I do not have the rights to transfer that content, nor do I wish to try to negotiate those rights. I am selling the domains and traffic ONLY, no content or designs. To summarize, the only designs included with this auction are CumFacedAsians and ezacash.com. You do not get designs or content for any of the other paysite domains I’m including. The buyer will have to use their own content and designs to quickly throw up new hosted galleries and paysites on these domains in order to keep from losing traffic.

[Translation: Any old shit will do, that’s all that’s ever been there. — Bacchus]

There are 70 active members on the CCBill account right now rebilling at $19.95-24.95 a month, plus new members still sign up on a daily basis. The retention of these new members is very low (most cancel their trials), so a new members area should increase revenue by quite a large margin.

Gross sales (not including upsells, ads in the members area, cross-sales, pop-ups, etc. – base CCBill memberships only):

2007 Sales – $13,508.70 (so far)
2006 – $36,057.40
2005 – $50,548.30 (Stopped updating and working on the sites in 2005)
2004 – $65,388.11
2003 – $50,935.71 (Year the sites were opened)

Basically, you are buying some nice domains, some traffic, a CCBill account with rebilling members, 10 exclusive Asian videos and photo sets, and a nice amount of existing affiliates.

I find the economics fascinating. Stopped all work on the sites two years ago, still has seventy poor suckers whose credit cards are rebilling monthly, still gets new suckers signing up every day, but the cookie cutter sites are so obviously stale and dead that most cancel immediately.

And yet, this is funny, too, because of the small-scale thinking. It’s not dishonest or a scam, exactly, but it’s a line of work akin to direct mail advertising; sell something cheap and almost worthless for quite a bit more than it’s worth, pocket profits, work like hell to find new suckers because none of your one-time customers turn into regular customers, which as every businessman knows is where the money is. In that kind of business you have to swim hard just to stay even, and if you ever stop swimming (rounding up new suckers) you sink like a rock. Real paysites, with real exclusive quality content, make money on an entirely different scale.

Note that the owner is getting out of the business to “focus on his freelance writing.” Which is the employment equivalent of a federal cabinet member resigning “to spend more time with my family” or a pretty girl turning you down for dinner on Friday night because she “has to wash her hair.”

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Indecent Exposure In Jail

Is it just me, or is there something pointlessly cruel about locking someone in a transparent cage and then punishing them for failing to maintain their privacy while they jerk off? I’m having a difficult time reconciling this with any concept of justice:

A Broward prisoner accused of committing a sex act while he was alone in his jail cell was found guilty Tuesday of indecent exposure.

Terry Lee Alexander, 20, unsuccessfully fought the charge, which had been brought by a female Broward Sheriff’s Office detention deputy who saw him perform the sex act in his cell in November.

In reaching the guilty verdict, jurors found that an inmate’s jail cell is ”a limited access public place” where exposing oneself is against the law.

The judge sentenced Alexander, of Lauderdale Lakes, to 60 days in jail, on top of the 10-year sentence he is currently serving for armed robbery.

The sole witness in the case, BSO Deputy Coryus Veal, testified that Alexander did not try to hide what he was doing as most prisoners do. Veal saw him perform the act while she was working in a glass-enclosed master control room, 100 feetfrom Alexander’s cell. There was no video tape or other witnesses.

Alexander’s attorney argued that the prison cell was a private place and that what Alexander was doing was perfectly normal.

”Did other inmates start masturbating because of Mr. Alexander?” McHugh asked Veal. “Did you call a SWAT team?”

”I wish I had,” Veal answered.

Veal, who has charged seven other inmates with the same offense, insisted that she was not against the act itself — just the fact that Alexander was so blatant about it. Most inmates, she testified, do it in bed, under the blankets.

Veal said this was the third time she caught Alexander, and she had had enough.

Via Boing Boing.

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Bad Date (With A Homeless Pirate?)

Ok, so that first get-together with the new internet prospect can be real awkward. We know this. But there are clues:

The constant signing of emails with master so-and-so was a huge fucking clue.

The request to call him sir after three email exchanges and one phone conversation was a clue.

The ridiculous comment that “even though I haven’t met you, I miss you — do you miss me?” was the motherfucking clue of clues.

Showing up to meet her in a public place with a fucking parrot (yes, a parrot…did I fucking stutter or something?) on his shoulder was a clue.

The couple sitting next to her who were gossiping…”

Stop! Whoa! All ahead stern! Screech! Stop the music! Nobody move!

Did she really say “parrot”?

Parrot? As in, like this?

In all the ink (real and virtual) that’s been devoted to “what not to do on the first date”, I don’t think anybody ever considered the need to write “Wait until the second date to introduce her to your parrot. Do not under any circumstances take take your bird when you go to meet a woman for the first time.”

Consider it written now.

Don’t get me wrong, I actually quite like the feathery little bastards. I bought one for a girlfriend once. I don’t miss her, but I sorta do miss that bird. And, like any pet, they can be pretty good company when you’re lonely.

Remind me, why were we going on that first date again? Oh, yeah, to find another freaking human to bond with / fuck / enslave / spend time with / preen my feathers. Which of these things is not like the others?

Why do pirates take their parrots everywhere? Because they don’t have any secure place they can leave the bird without it flying away or following them. Which is the same reason they carry all their doubloons in their underwear, or bury them in a sea chest on a moonless night (not such a good option for parrot housing).

If, like a pirate, you suffer from lack of a permanent place to park your parrot, it’s best you try to conceal this factoid from your new prospective internet submissive for as long as possible.

That is all.

Well, almost all. If your internet date brings a parrot to your first meeting, you know it’s going to wind up like this:

Yarrrr!

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Illustrating The Patriarchy

A progressive and modern view of gender relationships from Jem: The Magazine For Masterful Men:

And what does the half naked wife / maid / scullery wench on her knees with the scrub brush think about all this? Could we zoom in on her priceless facial expression, please?

Leda And The Swan

If your grasp of mythology is sub-par like mine, you might sometimes wonder “What is it with all these images of naked women and swans?”

For all the answers you might want, there’s an extended discussion (with many many images) at Silent Porn Star.

All you’re going to get for an answer here is a Yeats poem and a strangely menacing rear-entry swan:

Leda And The Swan, by William Butler Yeats, 1928

A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.

How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?

A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.

Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?

Transsexual Porn With San Francisco Values

I’ve commented before on the strange labeling and odd packaging of transsexuals in the porn industry. And I’ve shaken my head at the odd ways guys use transsexual porn in internet games of oneupsmanship. But for all of that, I don’t claim to understand the “tranny porn” genre. And my bafflement is surely compounded by the fact that most of what I’ve seen has been poorly produced and badly marketed by pornographers who don’t seem to have been very engaged with the content.

Well, that last problem, at least, seems to have become ancient history, now that Kink.com has announced its new site: TS Seduction – Where Straight Men Take TS Cock For The First Time. It ought to be very interesting to see their special brand of San Francisco values applied to a historically neglected, traditionally crappy porn genre.

From the press release:

Leader in fetish entertainment leader, Kink.com announced the launch of their 11th all exclusive video and photo content site, TSSeduction.com, featuring hot transsexual women seducing straight men in the first site of its kind. With a new weekly video shoot update, the site boasts the hottest TS girls in action, dominating, seducing and enticing men into first time TS adventures.

Webmaster of TSS, Isis Love has been in the adult entertainment industry for over 7 years. She has worked on both sides of the camera and has been a model and guest director for Kink.com’s woman dominating men site, MenInPain.com for over 3 years.

“With one foot already in the door, I took this opportunity to join the team at Kink.com. After talking to the crew, I came in and directed some test shoots for the developing site,” said Isis Love. “I am totally excited.”

One thing’s for sure, when they advertise (to use their terms) hot transsexual women, they aren’t kidding about the hot part:

Grumpy Bacchus

I am laughing at myself a little bit. This winter got a little grim around the edges, and I wound up with one of those badly out-of-control email boxes with a thousand messages in there that all need minor attention. While storming through it today with a weed eater and a flamethrower, I noticed a very grumpy almost-flame I sent somebody who was using one of those templated automated link-exchange-request-spamming tools. It was a fairly sophisticated template, but clearly an automated request generated by someone running one of those “hire me and I can get you a thousand link exchanges” scams. My editorial snide remarks are in {curly} brackets and I’m munged out identifying information of the hapless client-victim:

Hi Bacchus,

My name is Sabrina {Hi, Sabrina, you’re real purdy for a robot} and I represent [Client-Victim] of Xxxx Xxxxxxx Blog. I have reviewed your website at https://erosblog.com/ and noticed that both sites have related content. I’d be thrilled if you would add our link to your site. {I just bet you would be!}

About our site:

Xxxxxxxxxxblog.com gives free dating and sex advice for men. It is NOT a porn site, {Oh, darn, now I’m losing interest} but rather a site for articles on sexual and social improvement. {And what is ErosBlog, chopped liver?} We currently receive approximately 45,000 unique visitors per month. {In your dreams, you do.} Exchanging links will help both of our search engine rankings, {Yours considerably more than mine} and help more people find our blogs. {Especially yours.}

If you would like to exchange links, please put a link leading to http://xxxxxxxxxxxxxblog.com on your links page. {Ooops, the “review” your link harvester did apparently missed the fact that ErosBlog doesn’t have a links page.} The anchor text (title) of this link should be:

The Xxxx Rxxxxxxx Blog: Xxxxx Xxxx Xxxxxx Xxxx Xxxx. {Sabrina robot darling, I know you scanned a bazillion links before you found mine, but how many of them had a nine word anchor text?}

If you are webmaster to any other related web sites, it would be great to exchange links there, as well. Please respond to this email with the URL of the page(s) containing our link so that I may then add your url, https://erosblog.com/ {Oooh, I’m glad you said that, I didn’t know my URL until you told me} (and any others that you may wish to include), to our links page.

Thanks for your cooperation,

Sabrina {the robot}

Now, I get several of these a day, but for some odd reason I decided to reply to this one. Read the reply for yourself, and judge: I think perhaps I was having a bad day and needed to snark at someone. Also, there was an email provided for the client-victim of the spamming scammer, so perhaps I thought I was doing him a favor. I really don’t remember; like I said, it was a hard winter, and some of the minor details are murky.

LOL, if you are going to mass mail for blog link exchanges for your marketing “blog”, you ought to pay more attention to the customs of the blogging community. Some tips:

1) When communicating with a blog that celebrates porn, emphasizing that your site is not one of those stinky porn cites is, shall we say, off-message.

2) When asking for reciprocal links with blogs that put all their links on their front pages in the sidebar, it’s unwise to bury your own return links on an interior page. It’s not fair to your link partners, and they won’t bother with you. It also makes your site look less like a blog.

3) When specifying desired anchor text, be reasonable. A nine word keyphrase is not reasonable, especially when you are asking for sidebar links where more than three words rarely fits.

4) When your blog is predominantly a marketing blog, you’re facing an uphill fight to get free reciprocal links. When facing an uphill fight, you’re way better off linking first and then asking for the reciprocal. Too many bloggers have been burned by reciprocal link requests that are never honored.

5) Lastly, mass mailing is bad, m’kay? If your request makes it clear you haven’t bothered to look at my site (see #1 above), you’re just another damned spammer, so why should I pay attention to you? And if you can’t be bothered to read the prominantly-displayed linking guidelines of the sites you want link trades with, why should they be bothered to trade with you?

Good luck with your marketing project, you’re going to need it.

More On Fisting

There was enough interesting in last week’s fisting post I thought I’d post this bit from Kaya on the sensation of fisting the way she and her master do it:

There’s a point when the widest portion of Master’s hand begins it’s slow but forceful entrance where I think I can feel tissue tearing, a sharp blooming pain. I can see it in my mind’s eye, the skin stretch so tightly, so thin, that it’s almost transparent around His fist. Though I don’t know if I have ever ripped, or if it simply feels as if I should have.

It’s at that point that I want desperately to quit, to snap my legs together with my hands cupped around my poor battered pussy and breathe the pain away. But I don’t. Not only because I can’t, but because I know what pleasures lay over this agonizing hump.

Once my skin reluctantly grants His hand passage, there is a transfer of pain. What was once highly concentrated on the ‘ring of entrance’, now rolls and fills the whole of my vagina. A deep pressure, a pressure that shifts along with the movement of His hand and fingers, sometimes sharp if He pokes a spot, sometimes dull when He rubs. But constant, always.

He likes to poke and prod, to press up as far as He can get, until my eyes pop open in stunned panic, half-believing that He’s attempting to tickle my throat. He likes to pump, a genuine fist-fucking, so hard and so fast that I no longer control my own breathing. I’m forced to exhale when He pushes in and up… and I gasp in air when He pulls back and out.

The pressure and the pain slide and mix together to create the delicious blend that is pleasure. I can’t think beyond my cunt. I’m nothing more than one giant pulsating vagina, with no thoughts outside of His hand and the throbbing need to cum.

I much prefer to be allowed to stimulate my clit when He’s fisting me. Otherwise, the intense sensations are too overwhelming. It’s system overload to the max. But give me a clit to manipulate, to direct the course and timing of the orgasms and I’m one incredibly happy girl.

Orgasms while being fisted are sensational. They’re the strongest, deepest, whole body consuming orgasms that I ever have. I don’t know if it’s because He’s in there touching and rubbing and slamming on spots otherwise left unstimulated, or if it’s because my cunt is so full, so stretched by His hand and wrist that there is no room left in there for my cunt to spasm so it shoots it out, sending it zinging across the whole rest of my body. It brings cerebral orgasm to a new meaning.

Orgasm recovery time is lengthy. My eyes do not want to uncross, my mouth doesn’t want to close. My toes stay curled, fingers clenched. Milk that orgasm for all it’s worth, twitching still against His arm.

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Married Sex

Say what you will, but married sex doesn’t have to be either rare or (when routine) boring:

We go through condoms like matches. I began buying the large packs – 24 is it? One pack probably lasts us about a month. I would say that we probably make love 4 to 7 times a week. Sometimes daily.

It can happen in the evening during and after a kinky session, or late at night, half-asleep in bed, always following the same routine – he wakes me up, half asleep himself, by rubbing my body, caressing my breasts and rolling my nipples between his fingers, pulling down my panties and even delivering something like a vague, sleepy spank. I expose my breasts, whether it means pulling something up or down, or taking something over my head and throwing it on the floor. I remove the comforter from my chest, to feel the chill of the cold bedroom (always cold) on my bare skin, contrasted with the heat of his palm and fingers. I slip my hand between my legs and masturbate.

Inevitably, I turn over, kneeling on the bed, with my legs wide apart, my face either in the pillows or next to his. He continues to play with my breasts, as I often replay in my head various master/slave scenarios, imagining the power exchange between us. I close my eyes. He would often put his fingers into the dewy, slippery territory between my wide-spread thighs – caressing, running his fingers up and down, plunging them inside, penetrating me roughly, firmly, confidently. Sometimes I would come right there, around his fingers – I wonder if he can feel the muscles contracting. Sometimes I would come from a slightest touch of my intimate areas, sometimes from the breast stimulation. Last night was especially “dramatic,” as he put it this morning. It was loud.

The night sessions are always followed by an intercourse, almost always with me on top – I reach for the dresser drawer in the darkness, feel the condom wrapper with my hand – scratchy edges, smooth surface. Pull it out and present it to him. Put my lips around his penis and suck on it as if my life depended on it. He would lift my head off himself, place the condom on. I’d throw away the remaining clothes, if any left, climb on top of him and ride him into bliss [his bliss]. He might kiss me along the way, or slap my bottom sharply with his palm, or hold me by my neck, which I find especially hot, or my hair, or hold on to my hips and guide my body, or wrap his arms around me. I never come from an intercourse, but I love it – I like it slow and sensual, I like it rough, I like it either way – by then I am well lubricated. Sometimes I try to clench my muscles around him. He comes inside, always inside.

From A Farmwife With A Twist.

Why, Thank You!

There’s a stylish spanking blog — not previously linked here by some odd mischance, though I’ve encountered it with pleasure on more than one occasion — called The Spanking Writers, in which Able and Heron recount their spanking lifestyle and share their love of schoolgirl / schoolmaster roleplaying. Fanciful without being fantastic, it’s a very civilized, and very British, read. From New Year’s Eve:

Those of you in the UK may have caught the BBC’s fantastic New Year’s Day production of “Wind in the Willowsâ€?. Fortunately we had glasses of wine to hand when the main characters, plotting a raid to reclaim Toad Hall, armed themselves with staffs and raised a toast:

“To the proper handling of sticks!â€?

Needless to say, we joined in enthusiastically. As a motto for the year ahead, it seemed rather appropriate.

…

My young lady was told that she could choose her cane; she disappeared upstairs, returning with the longest, thickest, heaviest rod in the house — our Singapore rattan, bought more with curiosity than intent. Even the lightest stroke resulted in a spectacular response, and a delightful stripe; the twelfth and hardest engendered a yelp that the crowds in London could surely have heard 200+ miles away!

I mention this now — proof that flattery will get you anywhere, if it’s unexpected and apparently sincere — because I was pleased to note the following among “our festive roundup of our personal 2006 favorites”:

Erotic Site of the Year. As obsessed with spanking as we are, sometimes we peek into other areas of sexuality as well. On those occasions nothing gives us an erotic jolt quite like ErosBlog, with its exploration of humans as sexual beings.

Why, thank you!

Waggable Rubber Tail For Your Puppygirl

ErosBlog is not the only place where the puppy girl fetish has been mentioned; although I haven’t seen too many web resources devoted to canine roleplaying, there’s enough collars and leashes sold to people with no dogs to suggest it’s a fairly popular game. Does your human puppy (I suppose puppyboys are just as likely) need a waggable rubber buttplug dog tail?

The sales copy seems aimed at eager-to-please doggies:

Show your Master you are pleased by wagging your Wiggly Rubber Dog Tail. A perfect tail for puppy play, this anal plug is made out firm yet wiggly black rubber, with a 4″ insertable oval shaped plug and about 8″ of tail to wag. Quality rubber craftsmen designed this plug to stay put and be worn for hours. This well made dog tail compliments any human dog behind. Wear it and be sure to get lots of treats.

Woof!

2021 update: These toys are long unavailable, but there’s a similar tail in this puppy play set.

Build Your Own Sex Toys From Stainless Steel!

Like a lot of men, I’m fascinated by finely-machined steel objects that can be assembled, disassembled, and tinkered with. I can’t not visit the Snap-On Tools van when it comes to my neighborhood, it’s got too many nifty chrome-steel toys in it. And the plumbing section of the hardware store is evil; I’m always in there screwing pipe fittings together and building little sculptures. Metal stuff makes the best toys, and even though I lost my Erector Set decades ago, I’ve never forgotten how much fun it was.

So, accordingly, I’m in awe of this new toy:

It’s called the Ballz Master and the marketing copy goes like this:

The Ballz Master Set is a tinker-toy lover’s dream collection, allowing you to assemble a huge range of different stainless steel dildos. You get two different end balls and one each of four middle balls. A total of eleven body segments in three different lengths provide lots of options for the finished length of your toys. You get a hefty base and handle, of course, and a sharp-looking padded aluminum case with foam insert to safely store and transport your Ballz!

I’m not sure how practical this toy set would be, but it sure would be fun to tinker with!

Stripper Rant

I found this posted without an author credit on an adult webmaster board. It was presented as if it were supposed to be funny, and acclaimed as such by a chunk of the online-pornographer audience. Me, I didn’t find it so — it encapsulates a lot of the reasons I never could find much value in the strip club experience. Of course I know of folks in the blog community who’ve stripped (or who are still stripping) and who present a much more nuanced view of the profession. But still. Strong and unpleasant stuff, it seems to me:

1) Hey you over there, holding that one dollar bill in your hand with a death grip and waving it around at me like it’s the fucking deed to Trump Towers… what the fuck do you want me to do, grow another pussy?!? It’s a fuckin’ dollar, put it down on the tiprail and blow my world away already.

2) You losers that come into the club for a lapdance with NO underwear or boxers and thin-ass, nylon shorts, so we slip and slide on your hard-on (which always feel like a sharpie pen ~ fine point)…fuck you.

3) You with the thick-ass jeans, this was an impromptu visit, eh?

4) Don’t pull my thong up during a dance and ask me if it felt good. IT DOES NOT FEEL GOOD.

5) Hey you, Loser, the one counting out the 20 bucks in one dollar increments, rubbing your fingers between each one to make sure you are giving me just that one dollar. Yes, you.

6) No I will not just let you “slip it in real quick” for $50 more bucks.

7) Yeah, my tits are real. As real as my affection for you.

8)If you cum in your pants, you have to tip me an extra $100 for being a lame-ass who can cum in their pants from a lapdance.

9) Stop asking me out. You’re a smelly, fat loser and the only reason I’m smiling and cooing at you is because I want your money. Outside of the club I wouldn’t even fart your way.

11) Stop bitching at me about the goddamn two drink minimum. First of all, your breath ranks (what’d you have for dinner, garlic and shit?), you’re about 172 lbs. overweight, and you look like Jay Leno. More importantly: I don’t give a shit.

12) Don’t bitch at me about the $10 non-alchoholic beer either. Hide a bottle of Jack in your coat pocket next time like everyone else does.

13) My horniness is in direct proportion to your income.

14) No, you CAN’T SMOKE. Dumb. Ass.

15 )Boys, don’t sit in the front row with your “homies” and act all engrossed in some deep conversation during a girls performance because you want to look like you’re too “cool” to notice the hot, naked girl in front of you. It’s a clear sign that you ain’t getting any.

16) DON’T SIT IN THE FRONT ROW IF YOU ARE NOT GOING TO TIP. Fer chrissakes!!!!!!!!!!!

17) “So what do you guys do when you’re on your period?” Answer: I lap dance with guys in dark pants.

18) STOP trying to grab my tits!!!!!!! That’s extra.

19) SHOWER FIRST, you nasty fuck!

20) I had a feeling you weren’t going to tip me, so I took extra care to rub my lip gloss on your collar and wear extra glitter lotion and obnoxious perfume before our dance.

21) Hey cheapasses: please don’t come to my work. Just stay home and jack off to “Desperate Housewives” instead. It will save us a both a lot of unpleasantry.

22) Stop asking me why I do this job and try to get all psychologically analytical on me. For the money, you moron, that’s why.

23) No seriously, my real name is Sparkle.

24) NO, I will not take a dime sac for payment. I can tell it’s oregano anyway you stupid mutherfucker!

25) Sorry, I don’t do that. Ask the ugly girl at the bar with the black roots and overbite.

26) I can see it’s your first time at a strip club. Let me explain the dynamics to you. If you want a fuck or a blow-job, go to the ugly chicks. Hot girls don’t have to do “extra services.” I can give you some recommendations for a small fee.

27) It is not okay for you to bounce me on your cock like a baby on a knee. Not okay.

28) Stop complaining about how short the song was. It felt like the fucking maxi-single to me.

29)Yes I will fuck you, but only for 10 grand. More if you’re ugly. So basically, more.

30) DO NOT come into the club looking for a girlfriend/date. It’s like me going to PETA looking for a steak.

31) Girls–what’s with the pole smell? Can we do a little hygiene check? Nothing than worse than twirling around the pole and getting a whiff of stale pussy.

32) Girls–stop lip-syncing to the song you’re dancing to on stage. Especially if you don’t know all the words.

33) Girls–if your toes curl and hang over your platform shoes a la’ Fred Flinstone, you need to go up a size.

34) Girls–drowning yourself in Angel perfume is just as bad if not worse than the BO you’re trying to cover. Take a goddamn shower, you smell like lapdance funk.

35) Hey DJ! You suck!

36)Girls–may I suggest complete sobriety before getting tatted up? Tattoos should be meaningful, or at least semi-meaningful, or at least semi semi-meaningful. That fucking dancing llama on your ass is so lame.

37)Girls–some songs just should not be stripped to. Please. No Disney soundtracks (you know who you are, you fucking weirdo), Sade, Boys II Men, or Bjork. For the love of God, Please.

By the way, if this was ripped from a blog or website and you know the original source, please drop me an email so I can credit it properly. No links in the comments, please.

And Who Shall Be Master?

Here’s a hilarious transcript of cybersex gone terribly … right? Some goon tries to pretend to be a master, but he seems to think it mostly involves virtual punches and namecalling. And then the hunter becomes the hunted:

mia: *gets out strap-on, and slips it on*

jblack: whoa

mia: *attaches 14″ dildo to strap-on*

mia: *lubes the dildo up*

jblack: where’s the girl? you’re going to fuck a girl right?

mia: you’re the girl. i’m going to fuck you.

jblack: master does not approve

mia: no, see. this whole time you’re under the assumption that i needed to be dominated

mia: the truth of the matter is, I do the dominating.

mia: and to prove it

mia: i’m going to fuck your cyber ass until it cyber bleeds

jblack: master says no

mia: no, YOUR MASTER says yes

mia: bend the fuck over

jblack: i don’t like this

mia: too fucking bad, worm. you’re gonna get it now

mia: *bends you over. spreads your ass.*

jblack: no i don’t want this

mia: he doesn’t WANT this, he says. what about what i said, before you cyber raped me, DICK?

mia: all i’m doing is what you did to me. you think that’s unfair?

jblack: yes

mia: and why is that

jblack: because i aint a fag

mia: oh but i am?

jblack: different. your a bitch

mia: no, actually, YOU’RE the bitch right now

mia: *slams my big dildo into your ass*

mia: oh that feels so good doesn’t it, bitch?

jblack: this is rape

mia: “shut up, bitch. enjoy it”

mia: oh yeah, you like that?

mia: you like Master’s cock?

*jblack has signed off*

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Musterbate?

On a “men’s penis health” fakeblog that shall remain deservedly nameless, I found the word “musterbate”.

Dudes who can’t spell “masturbate” are a perennial internet joke, but usually they go for “masterbate”. “Musterbate” is a new one for me, but I kinda like it. Since a “muster” is a gathering, usually of men for a military purpose, musterbation conjures visions of young military gentlemen congregating for mutual pleasure. That sure ain’t my fantasy, but let’s just say it’s a fantasy that’s not unheard of in certain circles.

And now, there’s a word for it.

Sex Under The Desk

This is a pretty challenging bit of sex writing — challenging to read and to appreciate. It’s very vivid and real, but possibly disturbing as well, depending on how you do with potentially degrading master/slave sex. Kaya writes:

I was put under the desk. Getting put under there is just as you imagine it would be. On my hands and knees, ass in the air, in the space where the chair should be. And while Master does His thing online…He’s fucking me. Sometimes brutally, sometimes not. Because He’s not really concentrating on fucking, or cumming, this can last for a really, really long time. He mostly ignores me under there, except to occasionally tell me to stop moving, or to remind me of how I am a cunt, a filthy slut, a dirty bitch…good for little more than a place to dump His cum.

The floor is linoleum and most times I’ll be awarded a pillow to put under my knees. Sometimes, just a towel. Sometimes, nothing…and the fact that my knees are hurting as He rocks me back and forth is appealing to Him. If I can orgasm it’s no concern to Him. He doesn’t care if I do or not, as He reminds me that it’s about His pleasure, not mine. I often try not to orgasm (which isn’t too hard since He isnt trying to make me anyway) as a way to hold on to a tiny bit of myself, control myself, unwilling to give Him the satisfaction. But if He wants me to, if He tries to make me, I can’t stop it. And that pisses me off to no end. All it earns me is some disparaging remark about the “mess” I make on His cock.

It’s very cramped under there (and though I make a conscious effort to clean there, it gets dusty and dirty). If I’m lucky I’ll have already had my hair in a ponytail. Otherwise it’s in my face, being sucked into my mouth and nose, in my eyes, and just generally a pain. My hands go numb from holding myself up, or my elbows get sore if I rest on those. And I am constantly having my head banged into the back of the desk. Purposely. It’s His attempt (I think) at making me press backwards against Him. And it works.

It’s stuffy down there…very little airflow. It’s hot. My pussy dries up and depending on how much it’s hurting Him, He’ll get some lube. Depending on how much He enjoys that it’s hurting me, He won’t. Sometimes He adds nipple clamps, which hurt like fuck when your tits are swinging and swaying, and the time they are on is typically long. If I remind Him they are there, He yanks them off quite cruelly. I’ve learned it’s best to suffer through them, and ask to remove them myself after He cums. He’s in a much more friendly mood after an orgasm.

You’ll feel about that…however you feel about that. To me, the interesting question is how Kaya feels about it:

It’s another one of those “I’ll love it tomorrow” things. And I do. Thinking about it after the fact, makes me twitch and squirm and generally soak my panties. I like being used, I like that He is pleased. I like that He uses me to please Himself, that is my job after all. Sure, I like being used in other, funner (for me), ways to please Him better but that’s not my choice. And I like that I have no choice about it. I’ve yet to be able to talk Him into something else when He swats my ass and points under the desk. And I have tried.

…

The stuff my fantasies are made of. Be careful the things you wish for.

Adult Industry Blogs

An email from Sam Sugar of SugarBank has prompted me to create a new category on the blogroll: Adult Industry Blogs.

Sam’s is only the most recent entrant into the category of well-written blogs by porn industry participants: photographers, movie makers, adult webmasters, and pornographers of every stripe. These folks are often extremely knowledgeable, literate, and passionate about sex-related topics, but the ones who don’t blog about their own sex lives (or who don’t post so many free samples of their product) have never been a great fit in the Sex Blog category. The new category also gives me room for creative people like Tony Comstock and others whose blogs present as marketing devices, but interesting ones. (I say “present as marketing devices” because any blog by a person in commerce is a marketing device, whether or not people notice it as such.)

Back to Sam Sugar. To give you the flavor, he recently debunked nine anti-porn myths:

6. Porn is for perverts

With 800 million videos being sold and rented in North America each year either porn is loved by everyone, or everyone’s a pervert.

Paul Fishbein (founder of AVN magazine) said that anti-porn protestors want us to believe that the porn industry serves 800 guys who each rent a million movies a year. He’s right.

People want to enjoy sexual material in every city and state, they spend more on porn in hotels than they do on drinks from the mini-bar. Whatever your thoughts about it, porn’s not a niche interest.

Indeed.

Sex And Submission

A new kinky site is out: Sex And Submission!

If you like your sex at all kinky, you’ll have noticed that genuinely kinky hard core porn is very hard to find. Bondage and spanking photos are a dime a dozen, but how often do you see a pretty woman in a leather collar with her wrists tied giving a big sloppy enthusiastic blowjob? Or bouncing happily up and down on some male porn star prong with her wrists clipped to the D-rings on her collar?

I’m not saying you can’t find it, but it’s not common and it’s rarely commercial. In the United States, this has something to do (I’m told) with porn-industry-standard “rules of thumb” designed to help porn producers avoid judicial unpleasantry in all the most sexually conservative corners of the country where their porn might get sold.

So imagine my suprise today to discover that one of my favorite porn producers (the folks who, from their bastion of permissive community standards in San Francisco, put out sites like the oddly transgressive Ultimate Surrender girl/girl wrestling site, the justly famous Hogtied bondage site, or the sadly-defunct Real Fucking Couples) has crossed the line in a big way with their new site called Sex and Submission. For the first time that I’ve seen, an American porn company is making real BDSM porn that includes tight bondage, hard spanking, and real unfaked sex.

Let me illustrate by pointing to this Sex And Submission shoot, which opens with an almost stereotypical, even banal, BDSM tableau. Here’s a pretty woman (Lori Alexia) on her knees, on a leash but not otherwise bound, looking hungrily in the direction of some fellow’s presumably masterful erection:

Of course, every two-bit BDSM pornographer in the last twenty years has shown you a picture like that, teasing you into hoping that she’ll be naked and tied (or chained, or whatever) in the next picture, and sucking like mad (still tied) in the picture after that. But if you bought the tease, you’d be disappointed. In the bad stuff, the leash is as good as the bondage gets; in the better stuff, her bondage gets more severe, and you might eventually see his penis held near her face, almost-but-not-quite in range of her tongue. And then in the next shot, you’ll looking at a blowjob closeup. And in the shot after that, they are going at it hammer and tongs — and she’s not tied any more. There are endless (and sometimes very creative) variations on the theme, but somehow the bondage and the sex never seem to make it into the same photographic frame.

In sharp contrast to those tired old ruses, Sex and Submission (astonishingly) appears to be delivering on the tease. In the shoot I took that photo from, it’s followed by a spanking photo, a picture of her being tied up tight with real rope, a display shot of her still leashed, but now topless with her hands tied behind, and then (philandering Zeus smite me if I lie!) two photos of her sucking intently on the man’s dick with her hands still tied and his tight grip on the leash “encouraging” her. I saw that and like to dropped my teeth. It’s a thing that (up until now) just wasn’t done.

Nor is it just a fluke. In this shoot, the Sex and Submission people have lovely Jamie all bent over in a short wooden pillory:

Again, every BDSM pornographer has got one of these pillories, and an endless supply of cute girls to put in it. You can find a hundred thousand versions of the inevitable weary flogging. But have you ever before seen the male talent take the obvious advantage of the situation and get a pillory blowjob? Perhaps I’ve led a sheltered life, because I haven’t. Until now.

When one does actually find this sort of real BDSM porn in odd foreign corners of the net, there’s always the additional worry that the scenes depicted might not be fully consensual. That’s the trouble with bondage sex — the vast majority of it as actually practiced in bedroooms and dungeons throughout the land is relentlessly consensual, but it’s neither easy nor desirable to portray that consent in a still photo. These galleries, made in America by a reputable producer of known fixed address, go a long way toward alleviating those sorts of concerns.

I’ll shut up now. It’s time to play one of my favorite games with The Nymph — the one where I show her pictures on my computer screen and she says “Eek!” (while observing avidly between widely-spaced fingers over her eyes). Y’see, she’s actually the carpenter of the family….

Update: There’s a rather heated comment to this post asking why “only the women are portrayed as submissives” and “will this company be fair and show men who are getting spanked and tied and fucked?” The answer, of course, is not “sexism” as the commenter proposes. In fact, the answer to the latter question is simply “Yes.” The company in question has had such a site for years, called Men in Pain. Here’s a shoot featuring a man in severe bondage being caned, flogged, and penetrated anally and orally by powerful women. Sorry, Michelle, that dog just won’t hunt. Unless the sexism runs the other way? Why has it long been OK to show this sort of explicit submissive bondage sex when the man is the recipient, but not when the woman is?

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Naked Guys At Play

I know the lusts of the ErosBlog female readers haven’t been slaked with naked guy pictures lately, so here’s an attempt to make up for that. I’m not really qualified to judge male attractiveness, but these guys look pretty well put together:

From Usenet.

Tentacle Sex, Shunga Style

In case you thought tentacle sex was a modern Japanese kink, this vintage shunga image ought to disabuse you:

The artist is the famous Katsushika Hokusai, who died in 1849. What’s more, there’s a link at Tentacle Porn to a putative translation of the script surrounding the image. No warranties, express or implied:

OCTOPUS MAXIMUS: My wish comes true at last, this day of days; finally I
have you in my grasp! Your “bobo” is ripe and full, how wonderful! Superior
to all others! To suck and suck and suck some more. After we do ot
masterfully, I’ll guide yo to the Dragon Palace of the Sea God and envelope
you. “Zuu sufu sufu chyu chyu chyu tsu zuu fufufuuu…”

MAIDEN: You hateful octopus! Your sucking at the mouth of my womb makes me
gasp for breath! Aah! yes… it’s… There.!!! With the sucker, the
sucker!! inside, squiggle, squiggle, Oooh! Oooh, good, Oooh good! There,
there! Theeeeere! Goood! Whew! Aah! Good, good, Aaaaaaaaaah! Not yet!
Until now it was I that men called an octopus! An octopus! Ooh! Whew! How
are you able…!? Ooh! “yoyoyooh, Saa… Hicha hicha gucha gucha, yuchyuu
chyu guzu guzu suu suuu….”

OCTOPUS MAXIMUS: All eigth legs (arms?) to interwine with!! How do you like
it htis way? Ah, look! The inside has swollen, moistened by the warm waters
of lust. “Nura nura doku doku doku…”

MAIDEN: Yes, it tingles now; soon there will be no sensation at all left my
hips. Ooooooh! Boundaries and borders gone! I ‘ve Vanished….!!!!!!

OCTOPUS MINIMUM: After daddy finishes, I too want to rub and rub my suckers
at the ridge of your furry place until you disappear and then I’ll suck
some more, “chyu chyu..”

Bondage Dolls

If you can stop laughing long enough, these pictures of blow-up dolls in bondage may make you wonder whether the folks at Slave Sluts have enough to occupy their time:

I hope this doesn’t mean there’s a looming shortage of real live “slave sluts”!

Thanks to Bondage Blog for the link.

The Story of R: Further Thanksgiving Sexploits

[Continuing my story….. Here’s the first part, Unexpected Reunion, in case you haven’t read it.]

I awaken the next morning in a lingering, warm glow from R’s and my passion. I feel more rested and energized than I have in a long time….then I slip in to wondering what will happen next between us. Was that it–one night of hot sex–or is there more in store for us? If there is, what will it be like? Reliving the crazed teenage lust was fun, but that won’t–can’t–last.

As I’m sitting at the kitchen table, having a cup of coffee and talking with Mom, someone raps on the front door. It’s R.Mom knows some stuff about the unrequited feelings between R and me in school, and she’s been kind of charmed by him too. Now he stands at her door, well-dressed and smiling that smile, loosely holding two white roses in one hand. After they hug, he presents her with one rose, then sees me and his smile widens. R asks Mom for permission to see me, which she enthusiastically gives. He steps in to the kitchen and offers me the other rose. It’s exquisite in both appearance and heady scent.

In response to my mother’s questions regarding how he knew I was home, R coolly covers our chance meeting at the store. He makes the entire encounter sound totally innocent, as if his interest is solely in re-establishing friendship with a longlost bud…but there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye that I wonder if my mom sees. Talk then turns to catching up between them…..like any well-meaning mom, she’s probably thinking matchmaker thoughts and a lot of the talk focuses on what he’s doing, and how well he’s doing at it. Turns out he’s doing quite well as an executive for a fairly big tech company. Not Mr. Millionaire himself, but he’s well-paid and he has a lot of corporate perks available to him. As they talk, I observe…..and see that, while R’s being genuine, it’s also obvious he’s mastered a lot of people-handling skills.

R’s visit concludes with asking my mom to take some of the family’s already-limited time with me over the Thanksgiving weekend so that he and I can catch up. Utterly charmed, she says of course he can spend time with me. R turns to me, green eyes ablaze with impish sparks, and asks if I’d like to go for a walk with him tonight. I agree, and the date is set.

——-

What a “next move”! I think to myself afterward. I decide to try to ride the youthful-lust energy for one more night. When R appears precisely at the appointed time, he sees me in my best attempt to recapture my typical high-school appearance…..soft flannel shirt, tight jeans, my hair caught in a ponytail (much shorter than back then), even my old high-tops (thanks, Mom, for not throwing them out!)….a sharp intake of breath signals a momentary lapse in his poise. My composure is similarly thrown off. He hadn’t used the “wayback machine” like I did, but is just gorgeous in a simple white turtleneck sweater, light blue jeans, and black leather jacket.

As we stroll to the park, I notice that few people are out….it’s a cool night for the locals. R and I aren’t saying much–more general talk, filling in all those missing years–but he’s taken my hand, and caresses it as we walk. I sense real caring from R, and an undercurrent of passion, in both his touch and talk. Forgetting my decision to let him lead, I impetuously steer us to “The Wet Spot”….a small clearing in an overgrown corner of the park, long rumored to be a hot spot used by teens and grownups alike for furtive encounters.

I stop in front of it and turn to face him with my question: “You ever make it with anybody here?” The unexpected challenge brings a lovely flush to his lightly-tanned face, and as he tries to stammer a reply I press on with, “Ya want to tonight?” and crawl in without waiting for his reply.

He follows immediately, surprising me with a bite on the ass as he does. I yip, then wheel around so that he can see my face as I peel off my clothes. The moonlight lends its soft glow to my skin, and R greedily drinks in the sight. At last I’m naked, cool but comfortable in the night air….and R finally breaks his spell with a murmur of something like, “You’re better than I dreamed …” Then his warm hands are upon me, stroking and exploring in a way that seems almost worshipful to me. Awed, I slip out of the teenage tart role and enjoy his attentions.

With a muffled growl, R abruptly changes the pace, pulling me to him hard, then kneading my ass as his tongue fills my mouth. His taste and scent fill my head…the heat of his erection warms my belly even through his jeans…..and we’re back in passion’s thrall, squeezing, sucking, tasting, teasing….exploring and riding the heat more fully than we did the previous night.

After getting my first taste of R’s cock and fluids, bringing him almost to orgasm with my teasing tongue, he pushes me down onto my hands and knees, then moves behind me for entry. We both groan at the immediate pleasure of filling and being filled….with just a few flicks to my clit and a couple of pumps, I’m shuddering with the intensity of my orgasm. R’s only a few moments behind me, gasping as my vagina squeezes around him. I collapse to the ground, R blanketing me, both lost in the twilight of pleasure.

Finally, R chuckles and pulls out. “You’re quite the sexpot, sweetie, but this carelessness really isn’t a good idea.” I laugh and agree, and we have the sex-history and protection talks. Even though tests taken during his marriage some years back indicated he has a low sperm count, we agree that tempting fate isn’t smart, and work out a contraceptive arrangement. Through the conversation our hands continue to explore each other’s bodies, ultimately causing our talk to falter.

R’s incessant pinching and teasing of my nipples is enough to bring me to another, small orgasm. I decide to reward him in kind, with a blow job….and end up in the most amazing 69 session I’ve had. R comes first, shooting a decent amount of fluid for having already come once. The lull in action while he orgasms serves only as a tortuous tease for me….so when R resumes his oral attentions I’m easily brought off again by his hot, deft tongue. He barely allows me to climax before rolling atop me and filling me again with his still-hard member, pounding me as wave after wave of pleasure pours through me…..finally ending in his orgasm.

Much later, as we’re walking back to my parents’ house, we agree to not get together the next day…..but it’s clearly understood that we’re both enjoying this….whatever it is, and want it to continue.

Women’s Lib, Circa 1976: Cane The Girls Too!

Almost thirty years ago, equality of the sexes had a different flavor than it does today. Somehow this doesn’t seem like the sort of think my mother’s Ms. magazines would have gotten, er, behind. From the January 7, 1976 Newcastle/Tyne Evening Chronical:

School Girls Get Equal Chance To Be Caned

The schoolgirls really felt liberated when the headmaster asked the boys to leave the assembly hall. The teenagers listened proudly as the he told them that from now on they would be treated exactly the same as the boys. But the girls of Heaton School, Newcastle, were stunned when he added: “And that means you will also get the cane!”

The girls have never been caned before and today there was growing apprehension behind the scenes. A 16-year-old girl said: “We nearly died when the headmaster said that we will now get the cane. I know it’s women’s lib year but we think this is taking it too far.”

…

Headmaster Mr. Henry Askew was adamant that what’s good for the boys is good for the girls. He said at the school today: “We simply told the girls that from now on they will be punished the same as the boys.” He said that the decision had been taken as the result of pressure from the school’s women teaching staff who had had enough of the behaviour of some girls.

…

It is understood that girls will be caned if they are put in detention twice in a week.

Thanks to reader Randi for passing along the Caned Girls porn site link where she found this, and to Google for confirming, at least, that Caned Girls didn’t fabricate the newspaper story from whole cloth as a work of salacious fiction.

Sex Education For Pornographers

From Diary of a Porn Publisher:

I have to spend a few hours each day reviewing the new adult websites submitted to the adult search engine I bought last July to see if I will accept the sites or not. Today, I ran across a description for a site that gave me pause. “The girl in black stockings receives pleasure and satisfaction from tickler inside a clitoris.” Is it possible that there could be adult webmasters out there who lack a basic understanding of female anatomy? It doesn’t seem credible.

I should think that would hurt….

Farewell, Russ

Edifying Spectacle offers a fitting tribute to “sexploitation” director Russ Meyer. I imagine the forever-frigid feminists would happily affix that adjective to his work, but as the author of the tribute points out, Meyer’s work celebrated American pop culture in a singular way. Here’s an excerpt from Richard’s tribute:

Incompetently I wish to do honor to one of America’s masters of erotica. To hell with philosophers, economists, editorial writers: isn’t enlivening the erotic life nobler and more valuable than the vaporizings of the classes that think themselves thoughtful and useful?

And, a wonderful image of Kitten Natividad, star of Beneath the Valley of the Ultravixens:

I doubt I’m the only one with an urge to go make tons of popcorn for a Meyer filmfest tonight …

Master Bates, I Presume?

Mistress Matisse gets the most hilarious phone calls. The last one started like this:

“I’m calling about your ad, but I’m not a submissive. My name (dramatic pause) is Master Ryker Blackstar.”

Dollars to doughnuts, this is the same guy who wrote “Rules For My Slavegirls“.

Cute Sexy Greeting Card

This card looks pretty innocuous on the outside, but it gets better as you read inside:

Lumpy Spotted Dick

I have heard tales that some of the serious body modification guys have suffered foreign objects to be introduced under the skins of their penises, with the purpose and intent of creating small lumpy scars or bumps “for her pleasure”. Well, in the course of a long internet surfing life one eventually sees pictures of almost everything, and now I’ve been sent pictures of this. I cannot suffer the trauma alone, I must share:

As for me, I’d think the girls willing to try it would be way outnumbered by the ones who would shun it as diseased-looking. But perhaps I’ve merely led a sheltered life.

A Man Enjoys His Politics

A random text bite from the diary of a “fully-owned female slave”. Her Master has finally found a way to make politics entertaining:

Later, He had me pleasure Him orally while He watched the political show of the State of the Union speech. That was unexpected, as was the deepthroating expected of me whenever there was applause. May i just say the Man talked way way too long? my jaw aches tremendously and Master was devastatingly demanding for the whole hour with no intent of having me finish the job. i love very much to suck cock, and Master was making a variety of points with me, but this was the longest hardest blowjob of my life.

A novel method of forestalling political debate, if nothing else.

Deeply Sexy, Deeply Dangerous

Soulless over at Black As My Soul is something of a master at thinking and sharing deeply dangerous thoughts. Sexy ones:

“What if I was being stalked?” I wondered. What risks would she have taken? Who would know she was following me? Would she give herself to me?

Would opportunity lay itself on my doorstep like that?

How pretty would she look in restraints?

I went to sleep last night wondering that.

You evil evil man. (Of course I mean that only in the nicest way.)

Communication About Sex: Made Simple

Katy from Captive Heart responds to the discussion below by writing:

It’s when communication between the sexes gets complicated, that I’m glad not to be in a vanilla relationship. See, when Master wants sex, he takes it. And when I want sex, I beg. We’re never in doubt about the other’s intent, and while we may occasionally have misunderstandings, they are never about sex.

Sounds peachy! Of course, this might not work for couples whose relationship power dynamics are less explicitly specified….

In the Net of the Nymph In My Net

Topological improbabilities aside, I was thinking about The Nymph today as I drove around doing errands. We were on the phone until late last night and continued our pattern of having an increasingly hard time hanging up on each other.

I realized today that some time ago I passed without conscious decision through that stage of imagining-with-trepidation our first meeting, and have now moved squarely into the stage of unreservedly wanting it to happen, the sooner the better.

That’s the more emotional side of my personality talking, and for the time being it’s got the microphone in an iron grip. The intellectual side still squawks and yammers from stage right, hissing and blubbering in a bad Smeagol voice about great folly and about silly masters who fool themselves and about the bad ends to which romantic adventurers are prone. The intellectual side of me has been very handy for projects like organizing my economic life and keeping body and soul together, but “intellectual me” has a terrible record of being as useful as a eunuch at an orgy when it comes to making decisions about matters of the heart. Resolved: ignore that timorous bastard for the duration.

More On Nice Guys

Cat Nastey (and where has her link been all this time? I’ll have to spank my webmaster. No, wait, that’s me, what a terrible idea.)

Start over. Cat Nastey writes in reference to this post that she doesn’t date assholes, that she only dates nice guys, and that she has a good one who brings her cookies, thank-you-very-much. And that’s good to hear. I didn’t mean to suggest (and I don’t think TheYeti or his pie suppliers were suggesting) that the female preference for assholes is universal, even if it’s common enough to be worth thinking about.

However, I do want to point out that I’ve heard Cat’s song before. Happy girls in good relationships often say this. Usually to your face. “Gee, you’re such a nice guy, if I wasn’t taken I’d snatch you up in a heartbeat.” It’s intended as, and is, a supportive gesture. But I’ve found it’s not a reliable indicator of what single girls actually do. Face it, a lot of asshole-seekers say they want a nice guy. Too often, they say it to their nice male friends while complaining about the misdeeds of their latest asshole.

But none of this diminishes Cat’s point. Cookie deliverers of the world, stay the course, take heart, and be of good cheer. Time is on your side.

THIS Is The Culture War?

Why yes, I guess it is.

Debra Hyde just posted this essay in which she makes the point that the Culture War is back on, and sex blogs are in it whether we like it or not.

And I realized that she’s right. In fact, Debra reminded me that I had said as much the other day in email, to a gentleman who asked for a link. I had to refuse him, regretfully, because his site was all broken. Clicking any of his links took me to some sort of nasty ActiveX or JavaScript pop-up box with an “I Agree” button. There was some sort of waiver or disclaimer in eight parts, all about promising to be an adult and that I live somewhere where it’s legal to look at dirty pictures.

I didn’t click, and I didn’t link. I just won’t go there. You may have noticed that ErosBlog rarely links to a warning page, even a simple html one. If I can’t link to the content, I usually won’t link at all. But I hadn’t thought much about why. Partly it’s because warning pages are, from a technical standpoint, cruft – a useless excrescence that interferes with the natural linkage from one web resource to another.

But mostly, it’s political. When my correspondent wrote back he explained that he only wanted to protect surfers and webmasters. He mentioned that some surfers live where they could go to jail for surfing to a dirty picture. He mentioned that some people work for companies where a dirty picture on their screens can get them fired. He spoke of laws against letting minors see dirty pictures. He mentioned avoiding the possibility of his own arrest when traveling to repressive foreign lands. And last but not least, he mentioned Ashcroft and his rumored new team of crusading anti-porn prosecutors. Finally, he inquired what my proposal was for dealing with all these risks, if I didn’t like his solution.

This is an excerpt from my lengthy rant response:

It’s getting to the point where even the Saudi princes can’t forbid all access to the internet, because it’s economically essential. By keeping adult material in locked ghettos at the fringes of the web, we make their repression easier — not something I wish to encourage or cooperate with.
…
Most of the folks who share your concerns use a simple entry page, with appropriate warnings, and links deeper into their sites. This demonstrates your good faith to any prosecutor, while allowing hardcases like me to link directly to the “meat” of your site and ignore the warning page.
…
If that doesn’t seem secure enough for you, I don’t know what I can say. Each of us decides which battles are worth fighting. I’ve decided this one is worth fighting, and I take what opportunities I can to encourage other people to fight it with me. You might have good reasons why you can’t take what I see as a very small risk, and that’s your business. But when your web resources won’t load in my browser, I’m not going to link to ’em.
…
Meanwhile, I’ll carrying on linking to the folks whose sites are visible, and who are (given the nature of the sites I link to) helping me fight the culture war I’m trying to help fight.

Thanks, Debra, for reminding me of having written that.

The Vibrator Double Standard

Eugene Volokh has posted a provocative inquiry about vibrators. In a nutshell, he wants to know why progressive modern individuals are quite hunky-dory with the concept of a girl spending quality time with her vibrator, but they get all squicked out and squeamish about a guy using what he (Volokh) delicately calls a “vagina-shaped vibrator.” Several theories are aired.

First of all, a more descriptive, if no more erotic, phrase might be “male masturbator”, since these come in many varieties, only some of which vibrate.

Second, it seems likely that Eugene’s primary theory has merit: A woman who uses a vibrator is assumed to be substituting it for “actual” sex, and society is quick to approve of her many and varied sound reasons for abstaining in that fashion. Whereas, in contrast, a guy who uses a “male masturbator” or a “fake vagina” is assumed to have no alternative; he’s a pathetic dude who can’t “get any.” Given the very real sexual power imbalance, as old as the invention of outlawry for rape, between men who propose and women who dispose, it seems not at all implausible that a woman with her vibrator is assumed to be choosing it over an array of available sexual partners, while a man with his toy is assumed to be a loser with no better offers.

Striking in its absence from the Volokh list of theories, however, is a simpler hygienic theory. Male masturbation results in an emission which is, Bacchus would think, broadly viewed by men and women alike as more “yucky” than typical feminine lubricities, or even than that rarest of nectars, outright female ejaculate. Worse yet, a vagina substitute’s inherent concavity makes careful cleaning a more problematic task than the quick wipedown of a briskly convex vibrator.

Mind you, in objective terms the hygienic concern is arrant nonsense. Men have mastered cleaning tasks of a far more intricate nature, and will even voluntarily indulge when the object of their cleaning affections is, say, a much-beloved rifle. Nor is it implausible that a truly decent technology for assisted orgasm would command every bit as much gadgeteering enthusiasm as gun guys lavish on the contents of their gun safes. But still, at the end of the day the squeamish objection to concave male sex toys may well boil down to an “Ew, but it’s gonna be icky to clean out when he’s done with it…”

Similar Sex Blogging:

• Most (Almost) Purchased Sex Toys
• Masturbation Simile Of The Day
• The Virtues Of Robot Sex
• The Fleshlight: Better Living Through Technology

48 Better Rules For Submissives

A while back ErosBlog linked to, and ridiculed, an alleged list of Rules For My Slave Girls. Now SpankBoss has posted a far more realistic sounding list of rules he found floating around somewhere:

1. I will not hum the theme from Jeopardy while Master decides which implement to spank me with.
…
6. Master does NOT hog the bed.
7. I will not refer to Master’s kitty as “snake food.”
…
14. I will not chew my collar.
15. I will not giggle during paddlings.
…
20. I will not make shadow puppets in the candlelight while Master is tying me up.
21. I will not critique how Master ties me up.
…
23. I will not go out-of-state when borrowing Master’s car during lunch.
…
29. It is unlikely that Master pushed all the covers onto my side of the bed so he could shiver all night.
…
48. I will not hoot with laughter when Master accidentally whacks himself on the back of the head with the flogger.

Now that sounds like a happy, if kinky, relationship. The rest are mostly just as fun, and funny, so go read ’em.

Signature Of The Day

Thanks to Making Light for spotting this .sig of the day, which is clearly in the spirit of John Norman parodies of the “Houseplants of Gor” ilk:

“I was kept naked on display in a cage for my Master’s pleasure. The steel band around my ankle told everyone who saw me that my role in life was to chew on his stiff cuttlebone.” — from Parakeets of Gor

Just Go Past The Sun And Hang A Sharp Left

Here’s a fellow who seems perhaps to have read one too many Gor novels. Herewith, his list of “Rules for My Slave Girls“. All seventeen of them. (That would be seventeen rules; if this guy has seventeen slave girls, Bacchus is a Baptist.) A sample:

6. Slave girls sometimes disobey or are insolent and must be punished. This, of course, is the Master’s privilege and his duty, for if a slave is not corrected, she will not improve. Slave girls are punished if, when, and as I please. When I desire to punish a slave, I will tell her why she is to be punished and how. If instructed to bring a lash or paddle, she must do so quickly and obediently. Her hands must never touch it, or any weapon, so she must bring it in her teeth, and when she reaches me she must be on her hands and knees. I will then inform her which position to take, and they must obey instantly.

At the risk of offending pet owners and PETA activists, maybe this guy should just get a dog?

And His Dog Likes Peanut Butter

This tale of a snappy comeback was posted on an adult webmaster board by the famous Persian Kitty:

This was in the Washington Post… the title of the article was “Best Comeback Line Ever.”

In summary, the police arrested Patrick Lawrence, a 22-year-old white male, resident of Dacula, GA, in a pumpkin patch at 11:38 p.m. on Friday. Lawrence will be charged with lewd and lascivious behavior, public indecency, and public intoxication at the Gwinnett County courthouse on Monday.

The suspect explained that as he was passing a pumpkin patch he decided to stop. “You know, a pumpkin is soft and squishy inside, and there was no one around here for miles. At least I thought there wasn’t,” he stated in a phone interview.

Lawrence went on to say that he pulled over to the side of the road, picked out a pumpkin that he felt was appropriate to his purposes, cut a hole in it, and proceeded to satisfy his need. “I guess I was just really into it, you know?” he commented with evident embarrassment.
In the process, Lawrence apparently failed to notice a Gwinett County police car approaching and was unaware of his audience until officer Brenda Taylor approached him. “It was an unusual situation, that’s for sure,” said officer Taylor. “I walked up to (Lawrence) and he’s… just working away at this pumpkin.”

Taylor went on to describe what happened when she approached Lawrence. “I just went up and said, ‘Excuse me sir, but do you realize that you are screwing a pumpkin?’ “He froze and was clearly very surprised that I was there, and then looked me straight in the face and said, “A pumpkin? Damn…is it midnight already?'”

Of course, it’s an urban legend. But still funny.

Not Kidding About The Bad Writing

In one minor respect, the Gor books are like Scientologists. That is, there exist folks who object to any mention of them, unless it be a rousing and completely unequivocal denunciation.

It has been pointed out that the use of the word “yummy” in the previous entry disqualifies that entry from the “unequivocal” category. Accordingly, as a gesture of placation, please accept this link to a web classic, the ancient and notorious (but viciously accurate) parody: Houseplants of Gor.

An excerpt for flavor:

Borin picked up the watering can, and muchly watered the plant. The plant cried out. “No, Master! Do not water me!” The master continued to water the plant. “Please, Master,” begged the plant, “do not water me!” The master continued to water the plant. It was plant. It could be watered at will.

“I Regarded The Screen. It Was Pleasing To Me.”

There is a new Gor book out. By John Norman. Published in August, 2002. Available on Amazon. In hardcover, no less. All 717 pages of it.

It’s called Witness of Gor:

The Amazon review begins:

Deep within the cells of Treve, a glorious and mysterious city at the center of Gor’s struggle for supremacy, awakens a nameless slave girl who will witness events about which others will only dare to whisper.

This Gor phenomenon…mere words are inadequate. Slave girls. Yum, yes. Bad writing. Also yes. Ouch ouch ouch please make the pain stop it hurts to read this broken limestone gravel prose ouch. Yes. Ouch.

“Please, no, Master!” I wept. Then I felt the lash. I stumbled back in agony, turned about, and fell to the carpet. There the leather once more informed me of the displeasure of my master. I screamed, miserable. Then another blow like lightning was on my back and I sobbed at his feet, on my belly on the rug.

More slave girls. Has the slave girl concept been adequately reinforced? Gorean slave girls get whipped a lot, and either like it and “juice” for master, or don’t like it but “juice” anyway. Did bad writing get mentioned?

It goes without saying — nope, wait, it’s too late for that — that Gor is politically incorrect, and the National Organization of Women will take away your membership card if you admit to liking this sort of thing.

Oh yes, don’t forget the slave girls. They are generally pretty yummy. Also pretty much naked and in chains, or leather cuffs, or binding fiber, or whatever else Tarl Cabot and his fellow hulking brutes have handy for the restraint and entertainment of naked slave girls.

If you are a fan of the Gor books, you needed to know about the new book. If you don’t like them, you probably rolled your eyes and groaned when you saw this blog entry. If you never heard of Gor…well, you are either incredibly lucky or astoundingly unlucky, depending on the extent to which badly written (but much whipped and very juicy) slave girls float your boat.

Speaking of Horny Gamers

Here is a Usenet classic you may have seen before:

THE COMPLETE GUIDE TO UNLAWFUL CARNAL KNOWLEDGE FOR FANTASY ROLE-PLAYING GAMES

This guide for the D&D crowd comes complete with lists like “Magic Items Your Mom Wouldn’t Approve of.” Bacchus could find uses for the Spectacles of Revealing, and the Wand of Elenora’s Embarrassment sounds rather fun also. The list of “Spells With Zip” includes goodies like Annihilator’s Penis of Power. If that’s a little too patriarchal for your taste, probably Kiss Of Slavery won’t cheer you up — you may want to get your hands on the Jackknife of Circumcision. Bacchus does not approve and is likely to retreat into his Marishar’s Miraculous Bath House, which might have been designed for him — note the command word, which Bacchus did not make up:

This one square inch marble block is carved in the appearance of a Roman-style villa with pillars at the front and erotic mosaics on the side and back walls. Once a day, the bathhouse can be invoked (command word Bacchus). It immediately grows in size until it is as large as a small house. It is identical to the statue, with high marble walls, and pillars at the front covering the entrance. The doorway is only large enough to allow one person at a time to pass through, and has a large brass door that can be bolted from the inside. Two large Iron Golems cast as Nubian slaves with scimitars guard the doorway. Whoever passes inside first is the master/mistress of the bath house, and all the creatures of the bath house will obey them. Inside the house is only one room, with two pools (hot and cold) and several marble slabs. gauzy silk curtains, cushions and tapestries decorate the place. Several swans (white if the master is good/neutral, black if evil) swim calmly on the cold pool. In the bath house are 2d6 beings of the same race and opposite gender, with 18 charisma and 18 comeliness. They are happy to please and have 20’s in any and all the new sexual proficiencies. If the master/mistress of the house wishes, the companions can be switched to any gender or species. Inside the bath house, it is always comfortably warm, and there is always food (as long as you like grapes and dates) and fresh water. Nothing from the bath house (golems, companions, cushions, water, food) can leave the bath house. If taken outside they vanish.

For the serious sex gaming grognard, there are detailed rules on the calculation of the duration of an in-game sex encounter:

After the initial rounds pass, the character must make a Constitution check for each round he/she wishes to continue. Modifiers to this check are from Table 1 and Table 2 And Table 3, plus cumulative modifier of -1. The character also needs to make a time to climax (TTC) check. A 1 on a 1d6 for males and a 1 on a 1d10 for women indicates such an occurrence. An additional TTC roll is made and a result of 1 indicates multiple orgasms (keep rolling while 1s come up).

Bacchus gives this link two thumbs (nay, Wands of Love even) up!