Long Time No Angst

There’s a reason why all the greatest works literature are all mostly about tragedy, death, destruction, despair, ill-fated affairs, violence and upheaval: it’s because they’re easy to write about.

Seriously, do you know how hard it is to write any kind of fiction without at least one of your characters carking it? It’s amazing how so few of us have actually experienced anything to do with, say, murder, and yet how many of us feel compelled to write about it.

Even if you don’t agree with me, there’s no arguing with the fact that ‘Peace and Peace’ just doesn’t have the same ring.

Do writers write about Doom all the time because they’re depressed? Or is writing about Doom the cause of depression? It’s a chicken-and-egg dilemma which could probably fill its own book, but anyway, here is something one of my ex-boyfriends said:

I see you’re writing a novel…. good thing that writers are the happiest people in the world eh?

(John Safran has built an entire career out of narcissistically dissecting his failed relationships; why can’t I?)

Petty bitchiness aside, (yeah, Xavier*, cos being a religious zealot makes a person SO much more contented than being a writer), there was a point I was trying to make, which as usual I seem to have forgotten.

Oh yes. I remember now. Okay. Right.

I haven’t blogged in a while, for the following reasons.

1. Happiness

Look, despite the romantic ideal of the impoverished writer alone in his/her garret, swilling wine and single-mindedly hammering out that tortured masterpiece before they inevitably die miserably, I know that there are thousands of creative people will back me up when I say that we are actually at our most productive when happy.

So, it’s not that happiness itself that has caused me to become uninspired, it’s just that happiness is hard to describe.

I’ve been trying to find the words to do it justice… the absolute most perfect way to tell you all how it feels.

But all I’m left with are reductive clichés:

I am seeing someone. He is wonderful. I am happy.

Beyond these flimsy, inadequate, ultimately futile statements, I am reluctant to share any more at this stage. Just as Bic Runga said It’s not for anybody else to know, I feel a need to gather this beautiful feeling up to my chest, hold it close, keep it safe. It is an embryo – too fragile to fling carelessly into the public domain.

I am trying to accept that it’s okay to be happy. That a giant flaming meteor won’t drop out of the sky and land on my head just because I dared to pull my head out of that expansive emotional quicksand known as Depression.

I feel better, stronger, more like myself. This is good.

2. Writing

Oh man, for some reason, I thought that once I’d finished writing my book, all my insecurities about writing would drop away. What I wasn’t prepared for was that they would get worse.

The act of writing a book is productive, brave, bold, admirable. Tell anyone you’re writing a book, and they tend to go all kind of silent and reverent, and say things like: “oh, wow. That’s really, like, interesting.” However, once you’ve finished writing, you find yourself with a giant ugly lump of a thing, that maybe could contain gold once it’s been chipped and dusted and polished, but is just as likely to turn out to be poo.

There was a five minute period after finishing in which I felt proud of my accomplishment, sure.

Beyond that it was just basically 100% pain.

So I got a job in a burger store, and actively stopped writing. Which made blogging difficult, since blogs are typically created with words.

But it was around about the moment when, after six long, sweaty, greasy hours in the burger store, while handling a customer complaint (that there weren’t enough pickles on their 1/3 pounder with cheese), that I realised I was ready to return to writing.

Sure, Tolstoy I might not be, but at least I now have the confidence to say that my talents are greater than heaping fistfuls of icky pickles onto an outrageously thick hunk of cow meat.

Last week I printed out my manuscript and mailed it to that competition I’ve been talking about entering. Gotta be in it to win it, I suppose.

3. Uh, they’re basically my main reasons. But while I’m here, might I mention that I’m a bit of a sadist now.

I’ve topped before, and enjoyed it on the level of: ‘ooh, this is a bit fun’. And intellectually, I could totally understand the appeal of inflicting pain and torment upon another. But it had yet to reach the stage where it made me, you know. Come.

Like, the idea of topping was not repellent to me, but it was never something I would jerk off to.

But something has changed. A part of myself has been prised open somehow. And it’s scary – I feel like a bit of a monster. Like, what does that say about the person I am, if I want to strap my lover to a bed and cane his bottom until he is insensible with pain? Until he is sweaty, gasping, straining, breathless? Begging for mercy; pleading for release?

Lately, my hands seem to have grown minds of their own. I seem them creeping around his neck, pressing, squeezing.

My confidence is quavering; I don’t know if I can quite follow through. But something that is deeper, darker, and more thoroughly doused in the slick black liquor of sex, is speaking louder than all these insecurities. The Creature has claws. I am awed and afraid and excited.

4. Oh yeah, that’s right. I totally remembered what I was going to say before.

You see, blogging is much like doing a grocery shop. During the week you are reminded continually of exactly what you need to buy, to the point where it is nearly inconceivable that you could ever forget, but then when you actually get to the supermarket everything useful gets completely erased from your brain, so that you spend yet another week living off Crazy Cheese and Marshmallow Fluff, when what you really needed was Food With Actual Nutritional Content, and an Industrial-Sized Container of Nappy San.

Anyway.

I am unsure about my organisational future with the Under 30s Group.

See, I’m no longer going to parties and events, and I don’t see myself re-emerging anytime soon (due to monetary restrictions, an anxiety disorder, and a general desire to keep my kink quiet and private for the time being). I feel out of the loop. And I don’t quite have the time or the energy to keep up with the influx of excitable and nervous newbies anymore.

That said, it seems sad to slink away from the group right at the point where it’s taking off.

So, I dunno. We’ll see.

In the meantime, hi! How y’all doin’?

* Not his real name. Der.

Things I Wish I’d Known

Last week I spoke at a kink workshop called the ‘Social Etiquette Discussion Panel’. The inspiration for this event stemmed from a conversation I had with HallowsEve and Tonbi a few months back; the general theme of which was “I wish someone had told me these things when I started out.”

When I first started to explore this kink thing, the path I took from Wide-Eyed-Newbie to Hardened-Old-Shrew was of the ‘baptism of fire’ variety. I’ve ended up in a good place, but there are times when I resent that the innocent wonder I once had for BDSM was stolen so quickly. Which is not to say that it is no longer magical for me, but I do slightly envy those who have no experience, because it means they are about to discover something amazing.

(Similar to, say, a person who has not yet heard a Radiohead album. Although Radiohead has brought me many, many, many, MANY hours of blissful enjoyment, nothing can quite replace the first time I heard Kid A, which redefined music for me, and blew my freakin’ brain).

Through Under 30s, I meet a lot of young people who are stepping into the BDSM scene for the first time, and who are somewhat ashamed of their innocence. Which is unnecessary – there’s no shame in being new and clueless.  It’s okay to admit that you wouldn’t know a sjambok from a violet wand. What’s annoying are people who try to act as if they’ve been around the block a hundred times, when in reality all they’ve done is watched Secretary furtively that time their flatmate was out.

As a general rule, established members of the scene seem happy to bitch about others if they’ve broken the unwritten code of social ethics, but it’s a bit unfair to criticise  if they themselves haven’t made an effort to improve communication. The Social Etiquette Workshop was about breaking down this vague wall of silence, and creating an environment in which people could feel comfortable enough to discuss ideas.

My main contributions were as follows:

People in the BDSM scene are people.

When I was twenty years old, I literally had to be dragged to my first munch. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I was absolutely terrified. But all that happened was I met a bunch of polite, intelligent people, who welcomed me and were genuinely interested in what I had to say. I was amazed.

I had the same experience (of relief and disbelief) at the first play party I ever went to. Imagine my surprise when, instead of flames or severed limbs, the only things that came out of the mouths of the other guests were words, many of them friendly.

Now it amuses me how, every time I shepherd a new member into Under 30s, they all say the same thing: “wow, I didn’t expect you all to be so… normal?”

Know how to say ‘no’.

Even to this very day I suck at saying no. I tend to say yes for the sake of pleasing others or to avoid making a fuss, even when this means I have to go very far out of my way to follow through with whatever I’ve agreed to. But the thing is, you’re far, far better off turning someone down (if they’re asking to play with you, for example) than to freak out when you find yourself in a situation you can’t handle.

Because I know how shocking I am at saying this simple, monosyllabic word, I’ve found that it helps to go to public events with a friend who can say no on my behalf.

Even doms need to know how to say it. I’ve heard stories about doms who have agreed to something that they weren’t comfortable with, just because they didn’t want to lose face, or because they wanted to make their sub happy.

Everyone has a right to say no – everyone!

Sexuality is fluid.

I used to have very rigid ideas about labels, and thought that your only kinky options were dom or sub. I really believed that people were born a certain way and could never change. I’ve since discovered that the term ‘switch’ is completely valid. (It does not mean a person is indecisive or confused!)

Now I know that there are so many different labels and definitions out there, and that people can identify as all of them, or none. It can change depending on your headspace, who you’re playing with, whether you’re playing in public or in private, etc.

Even though ‘submissive’ is still how I choose to describe myself, it’s not totally correct. I top occasionally, and I’ve also learned that ‘bottom’ is a much more accurate way of describing the role I play during public scenes. (For me, submission is so much more than simply receiving a beating. It’s an intensely emotional thing; the physical act of receiving pain/sensation is somewhat incidental. It also has a lot to do with love, service, pride, and humiliation. Simply bending over at a play party and letting someone have their way with my arse does not quite qualify as submission).

In addition to this, my sexual tastes have evolved and changed greatly, which has surprised me. Things that once terrified or disgusted me have become great loves. Be aware of the hubris inherent in saying something like: “oh, I’ll never understand how anyone could find (INSERT FREAKY KINK THING) appealing.” You’d only be asking for trouble. Trust me.

You don’t have to assume a role to interact with people at public events.

It took me a long time to realise that I didn’t have to be Lou the Submissive when I met people at parties – I could just be Lou.

I also wish someone had told me that it’s perfectly okay to go to a kink party and NOT play. When I ran the Sexy Freaks parties, the number one question I got asked by first-timers was “is it okay just to watch?”. Not only is it okay, but at these sorts of things there are people who are happy to hog the spotlight, and revel in the fact they’ve got an audience. Strangely enough, at Sexy Freaks, this person generally turned out to be me.

If you do play, be prepared for the possibility of a come-down.

BDSM brings up a lot of intense stuff. Some strange, surprising and sometimes difficult reactions and emotions can escape you – laughter, tears, elation, depression. It’s always wonderful to be able to channel these things and let them out, but it can also be incredibly draining.

This is why it’s so important to have friends in the scene, so you’ve got people you can talk to, and who will understand. If you’re feeling kind of bummed because you had your arse caned to a bloody pulp last Friday night, but that the bruises are not nearly as colourful as you hoped they would be, you might find that your vanilla friends are not satisfactorily sympathetic.

*

There are so many more points I can add to this, such as don’t be a dick, and use condoms. But this post is by no means intended to be a definitive guide. It’s just a list of things I wish I’d been told when I started out.

By the way, I’m still learning. We all are.

How to Blow

We’ve all met them. Those irritating people who will happily claim, without a shred of irony or self-doubt, that they are good in bed.

Of course, it’s those sorts of people who generally turn out to be duds. Not because of any physical or technical failing – it’s because their arrogance gets in the way of being truly receptive to the needs of their sexual partner.

Here’s a tip: just because it worked for your ex, doesn’t mean it will work for everyone!

These people get so blind-sighted by their smugness that they fail to account for the fact that people are, like, different. And if their masterful performance fails to bring you countless screaming orgasms, then you must be the one with the problem.

Now, I know I’m capable of being great in bed, but I would never promise it to someone. There’s just so much that can go wrong, especially when you haven’t had sex with that person before. I’ve discovered the hard way that what floats someone’s boat can just as easily sink another’s. There are probably a few people walking around this world thinking that I’m a crap shag, and well, I couldn’t really blame them.

I’d also like to stress the importance of making mistakes. If you hold yourself back for fear of doing the wrong thing, that’s not sexy either.  We all learn by getting it wrong occasionally, and if you’re afraid to experiment a little, you’ll never grow.

And while we’re still in the key of Rant, let it be known that flipping through the sealed-section of Cleo magazine does not a great lover make. You can read all you want on the subject, but nothing can replace hands-on experience, communication, and intuition. The notion of keeping crib notes on the bedside dresser is both hilarious and sad.

Similarly, you’re not going to turn into a sex god/goddess because of something you read on the internet. So go on, turn off your computer, grab your lover, and go have fun.

That’s it. This is the best advice I can give you. (And yes, your computer has an off-switch. It’s true – I’ve seen it!)

I’ll just be over here, dusting my cat figurines.

Doo di doo. (*mutters: blasted porcelain Persians*)

Ah, guys? You’re still here.

*sigh*

Oh all right, fine. Fine! Off the back of the success of my highly-acclaimed Guide to the Clitoris, I present to you:

How to Suck and Not Suck: Helpful Tips for Giving Head

1. Lube Changes Everything.

Yeah, you can perform fellatio using only the moisture in your mouth, but it makes the job more difficult than it has to be. If you’re going for greatness, lube is your friend. Before you begin, whip out the lube and apply generously all over the penis and testicles. Seriously, more lube = more better. I just can’t stress this enough.

And don’t skimp on the quality of the lube, either. Again, if blowjob glory is what you want, you’ll need some decent silicone-based lube – not the KY-type crud you get at Coles. (Also, the cheap stuff tastes awful!)

My personal recommendation is Pjur. It’s silky smooth, odourless, and it lasts forever (thus justifying the cost). Available over the internet, or from most good sex shops!

2. Have Fun With It

Contrary to the notion that fellatio is a submissive act, it is actually extremely powerful. I mean, your man’s most prized and sensitive body part is between your teeth, and he’s the one with the power? I don’t think so.

For me, it’s the power trip of being solely responsible for the most awesome pleasure that man has ever experienced in his life that makes giving head not just a positive experience, but a pleasurable one. It’s the look of their faces – complete abandon and utter gratitude.

So many women approach this kind of thing with reluctance or disgust. And even though I know I’ll get lynched for saying this – I do think that in a committed, loving relationship, it should not be considered sexist or offensive or horrible for the man to want a blow job every now and then.

It’s all in the attitude. Approach it with a sense of playfulness and love, and it’ll bring you closer. Approach it as you would an overcooked hotdog, and it’s going to be much less fun, for both of you.

3. Take Your Time

If you’re racing through it, thinking ‘let’s get this over with’, it’s not likely to be great.

My suggestion is to start slow, and build your way up gradually. Perhaps start by licking the shaft and around the head, as opposed to sticking the whole lot in your mouth at once. Some guys like it fast and some like it slow – so to hedge your bets, start slow and go from there.

4. Use Your Hands

Bringing a man to orgasm using only your mouth is actually extremely difficult. For best results, I like to place one hand around the shaft at the base of the penis, and if possible, one hand gently cupping the testicles. Slide the hand that’s on the penis up and down in synch with your mouth (this is after you’ve poured on tons of lube). If you’re feeling lazy, just keep your mouth on the head, while your hand does all the work.

You can also squeeze the base of the penis, which keeps it hard, and which I’ve found can induce orgasm quicker (that’s only if you want them to come though – there’s a lot to be said for making them suffer and wait!)

With the hand that’s on the balls, just stick to tickling, stroking, or holding. (Do not squeeze – unless cock and ball torture is his thing). If you and your partner are the adventurous types, you can even venture down a little lower, and, ah, stick your finger(/s) up his butt. Once you get over the conceptual grossness of this, you’ll find that it’s actually the easiest way to bring him to orgasm (as it stimulates the prostate gland).

Don’t look at me like I’m crazy – it’s true – and if he’s comfortable with the idea, he’ll thank you for it. Trust me.

5. Don’t Stop The Instant He Comes

Orgasms can be increased and prolonged by staying there for a minute or so after the initial spurt. Which brings me to…

6. Swallowing is Easier Than Spitting. Sorry.

Yeah okay, so semen is pretty nasty. But swallowing is, by far, the better way to go. It’s like taking a shot of tequila – you wouldn’t put that in your mouth, swish it around a bit and then spit it out again, so why would you do the same with come? If his penis is in your mouth at the point of orgasm, it’ll hit the back of your throat, and then you can swallow without needing to taste it. Up until now I’ve been trying to resist using the phrase ‘suck it up’, but, there’s just no better way of saying it. Suck it up, bitches.

7. Watch Him Masturbate

If you’re in a relationship with the person, and comfortable around each other, get him to masturbate while you watch. It’s hot in a voyeuristic kind-of-a-way, and it also provides valuable information as to how he likes to be touched. Sometimes it’s impossible to get an understanding about how he likes it just from reading his body language, or even from asking him, which is why watching him jerk off will prove to be highly informative.

Watch, my friends, and learn.

***

Now, having said all that, there’s one final point I’d like to make:

8. Men Are Harder to Get Off Than Popular Culture Would Have You Believe

If you’ve been down there for half an hour, and nothing seems to be happening, don’t take it to heart. According to teen movies, getting a guy off is as easy as, say, slow-dancing with him for a few minutes during prom night.

Men are actually pretty tricky to bring to climax. Most of the boyfriends I’ve had have had difficulty coming during sex, let alone from oral.

The goal of any form of sexual activity should not be an orgasm – it should be about the connection, the pleasure, and the intimacy. Don’t approach this as merely a method of getting him off – try to see it as a way of giving him something incredible.

Finally, it’s your gift to give – not his to demand. (Well, unless you’re doing the D/s thing, which is kind of a different story, but even in that scenario there should be an underlying respect).

And that’s just about all I have to say about that. Happy blowing!