Chastity Belt Erotica

Has anybody seen this vamp?

2012-01-03T14:32:00.000-08:00

Making chastity permanent - XTube Porn Video - mosthandysub

2011-11-26T12:38:00.000-08:00

Making chastity permanent - XTube Porn Video - mosthandysub

Quite a fantasy. Not sure how I feel about the reality....

Lena?

2011-11-21T02:14:00.000-08:00

About the right age, I think. Grown up, self possessed and elegant.

Whips and Stockingtops: The Flapper and the Fishing Village (cont)

2011-11-14T01:55:00.000-08:00

(First part here)
With a whoop, Charli yanks the hand break and hauls at the wheel until her hands cross. As Lena screams, the sports car whirls onto a side road and we pick up speed again.

If my testicles weren't already clamped into their cavities, they'd be trying to crawl there now.

"Crazy bitch!" yells Lena, clutching her hat.

"You ain't seen nothing yet!" Charli puts her foot through the floor. The G-force throws me back into the upholstery. Trees blur past. We're heading inland, faster and faster. The sun's setting behind us, so the trees look like cardboard cutouts--I bet they won't feel so cardboard when we hit them.

And Charli doesn't let up.

We accelerate towards the brow of the hill, the engine making a zooming roar, picking up more and more speed...

And then we take off.

There's a moment of weightlessness, and I get a sickening flashback to being abducted.

Lena screams, long and loud, and we land with a bump. The suspensions takes it, and we chug along slower now while Charli laughs.

Lena twists in her seat and starts flailing her gloved hands at Charli. "Stop. The. Goddamned. Car."

Charli just pulls into a lane.

"We'd better be near my cottage," shouts Lena, checking her cloche hat's still there.

"Better!" yells Charli. She pulls off the lane and onto a rutted track that crosses an open field that's strewn with rocks and rises to a summit, which is where the Vamp finally stops.

She springs out of the car, pulls off her helmet and shakes out black bobbed hair. Her driving jacket and riding britches aren't exactly feminine, but they don't do anything to conceal her broad hips and ample bosom.

I start to pick myself up and get out to open the door for Lena, but Charli gets there first.

Lena steps down onto the grass.

Charli sweeps a jacketed arm at the sun setting over the western ocean. "What do you think?"

Len takes in the view, and for a moment int he pink light they both look like pen and ink drawings from the real Jazz Era; fashionable ladies out for an evening spin.

Then Len turns and slaps Charli hard across the cheek. "Crazy! Bad! Stupid!"

"You have such a way with words, doll," says Charli. She grabs my mistress and kisses her hard on the mouth.

Lena thumps her on the brow-leather covered back. I take a step forward, not that it would do any good; my conditioning stops me raising a hand to anybody.

Then Lena... Mewls; an animal sound that sends a shiver down my spine into my steel-shod crotch.

My mistress's hands shift to the back of the vamp's head and she grinds her face into her own. Just like in the old movies, she bends one stockinged until the calf and thigh muscles press together.

My cock inflates in its prison until it prickles. I've seen this thing thousands of times since I was enslaved--Women together, no men who are free, let alone regarded as human? Of course they're all Lesbians!--I should be used to it. However I've had precisely zero orgasms since they caged me. So now I stand there feeling a wet pressure building up inside my lost penis, a pressure which I can do nothing about.

Stooping so as not to break the kiss, Charli backs off enough to get at my mistress's coat buttons.

Lena twists her mouth half free and says wetly, "Let the slave do it."

Charli gasps, "Sure."

That's my cue. I move up smartly and as unobtrusively as I can and fall to one knee. Lena's coat buttons are tiny. I fumble with them while the damp of the ground soaks into my knee, and the two women make squelching noises with their mouths just above me.

Finally, the coat opens. I scurry around behind Lena to take the coat from her shoulders, revealing a matching burgundy dress.

Right away, Charli's big hands shoot out to grab my mistress's breasts through the dark red fabric.

The vamp's leather driving coat has big chunky buttons. It doesn't take me a moment to unbutton them. As she shucks off the heavy garment, she breaks the kiss. "Lay it on the grass like a blanket then go fetch what you find in the glove compartment."

I drape it over a flat patch of cropped grass and scamper back to the auto. Inside the glove compartment is a leather bag. I know what's in it just from the shape and there's a wet spurt from my chastity belt.

When I return to the women, Lena is already sprawled on the jacket, knees bent so that the skirts of her petticoat and dress have furled around the top of her thighs. Her brown stockings leave off just past her knee, with tight looking garters as anchors.

Her briefs--flimsy cream silk things--lie on the grass where Charli must have thrown them. However, I cannot see my mistress's pussy because the Vamp is kneeling between her feet, head buried between the Lena's thighs, hands still clamped on her breasts.

I kneel down just close enough, the bag on my lap.

Charli doesn't seem to notice me. Mixed with the sound of the wind is the distinctive scratch-squelch of tongue on clit.

Lena shimmies against the coat. Her fingers slide into the back of Charli's hair.

Charlie bob's up from the other woman's crotch. Without looking at me she says, "Do you know how to insert a joystick?"

I nod. "Yes ma'am."

"Get my pants down and do it." She dives back onto Lena's crotch. Still licking, she shuffles her knees back until she’s on all fours.

There are a row of buttons on the nearest. Gingerly, I undo them and slide the pants and briefs over her ample hips and down to her knees. Then I take the bag and move to kneel behind her.

Charli spreads her thighs until the pants are taut between them and tilts her hips. Now I can see her rosy anus and her thick-lipped vulva, glistening shamelessly from a clearing in its forest of dark curls.

I unlace the bag and take out the "joystick". It's a J-shaped double-ended dildo, with knobs and ridges in all the right places.

With shaking hands I position it between her thighs, the tip of the short end against her vulva. She shoves against me and I push it in. My fingers touch the rubbery outer lips and there's another squirt from my chastity cage.

Abruptly, Charli crawls forward and pushes her hips between Lena's spread thighs.

I duck low just in time to see Lena's red inner lips pouting from behind her mousy blond bush. The dildo slides in and now the Vamp's buttocks are in the way.

I kneel back forgotten.

Charli takes the weight on her elbows and kisses my mistress's throat while slowly twitching the dildo in and out.

Each movement earns a cry and a squirm from Lena. Her bare hands--Where did the gloves go? Christ, I'd better remember to find them--untuck Charli's blouse. The red painted fingernails vanish inside. The vamp gives a little cry, then a grunt; those knobs and ridges are doing the job for her too.

Now the two women undulate together like practised performers. Each grunt from Charli triggers a gasp from Lena, and a grunt in return. The grunts and cries tumble on, one hard on the heels of the other.

The pressure builds in my chastity cage until it's unbearable, like a wasp scuttling over the tip of my cock—not that I can really remember what the tip of my cock looks like. I did once get a vanity mirror and inspect it, but all I could make out was a shadowy pink behind the surgical steel mesh, and the staring at the places where the spidery bars pierced my flesh to anchor in the bone made me queasy…

And the two women subside.

Charli rolls off and stares up at the sky her hips and thighs white in the dying light. "Stars." It's true, the stars are coming out, but I have eyes only for the pale strip of flesh between Lena's stockingtops and the skirts furled at her waist. Her pubic hair is slicked back and wet, her lips bruised as dark as her dress. If only I could--

Lena stands up and brushes down her skirt. "It's called the outdoors, Charli. You know, Mother Nature." She holds out an arm and I spring into action with her coat. "Now take me to my cottage, please."

"Sure!" Charli plucks out the joystick and tosses it to me. I catch it on reflex. It's hot and sticky to the touch and I fancy I can smell their juices. I shudder. I could almost have an orgasm if only--

But no. The two women are relaxed and sated. I'm still hard in my cage. That's just the way this hellish alternate world works.

I put the thing away. By the time I've located and returned my mistress's gloves and undies, the vamp is dressed and back behind the wheel, engine growling, headlights casting beams over the fields.

"With care," says Lena, getting in. "You may have a death wish, but I do not."

Charli laughs. "I guess you have a novel to complete. Journalists always end up trying to write novels. What's it about."

Lena says nothing.

Despite Charli's mirth, we we trundle through the darkening roads more sedately. Each bump causes my cock to throb against its cage and I start drifting into an erotic trance...

...and suddenly we've stopped.

"Can I help you... unpack?" asks Charli.

"Certainly not," replies Lena as I open the door for her. "I have a slave for that and other things."

She strides off towards the gloomy bulk of the cottage. There's a crack of light coming under the front door.

I heft the luggage out of the trunk and slog along after her like a henpecked husband on a second honeymoon. If only there were a warm vagina waiting for my cock.

Charli calls something, but her words are lost in the crunch of gravel under the wheels of the heavy case.

Lena locks the door behind us and leans her back against it. She looks drawn and sad. "Right," she says. "Forget the luggage for now. Go do whatever it takes to run me a bath."

As I scamper off, I realise that I am shortly going to see her properly naked, with no predatory vamps around to spoil things. By the time I have the furnace stoked up, my chastity belt is throbbing like a second heart.

It's Love Our Lurkers Day!

2011-11-10T01:00:00.000-08:00

According to the Domme Chronicles, it's Love Our Lurkers day.

Lurkers are the Internet's voyeurs - you just like to watch, well, read, without commenting.

That's OK, actually. But comments can be anonymous, and I'd love to hear from you all.

Love Giles

Whips and Stockingtops: The Flapper and the Fishing Village

2011-11-09T08:06:00.000-08:00

(No promises about follow up. Just tinkering really. Enjoy.)

The conductor opens the slave van door. She barks, "All out for Saint Eves." I dodge past her and jump down to the platform.

This is the first time I've been out of the city since I was enslaved, but I can't see much. The vapour from the engine hangs in the air like the steam in my last mistress's bathroom.

Clutching my busboy cap, I hurry down the length of the train. I check each carriage as I go. My new mistress is behind one of the grubby windows, but will I recognise her?

I glimpse a bell-shaped cloche hat through sooty glass and hurry to heave open the door. The low platform puts her bosom at my eye level. I recognise her burgundy dress and matching jacket and relax enough to note that she is fashionably small breasted - whether by nature or foundation garment, I'll soon find out.

Like a good slave, I hold out my arm and lower my eyes. The waistless dress hides her figure, but it stops at her knees so I can feast my eyes on her stockinged calves tapering down to her tightly laced ankle boots. She takes my hand--

--Did I say stockings?

Yes. Don't ask how this could be, but this is the Jazz Era with a twist. There are Flappers and Vamps, racketeers and jazz singers, but they're all female. There are men, but they are like me; abducted and cloned from our own worlds to serve as slaves in this alternate 1920s. The Gynarchs tolerate our existence because of some ancient religious edict. The pretty young things take us for granted. To them we're part domestic servant, part sex toy.

--and the touch of her warm leather gloves sends a thrill down to my chastity cage. The mesh clamps around my lost penis. My collar feels too tight. I have the urge to put my finger under it to loosen it, but it's made of seamless stainless steel. It's not going anywhere, and not getting any looser. I am a slave.

Lena steps onto the platform. Intelligent blue eyes briefly fix on me, then she glances left and right making her wavy hair flick. She smiles with rouged lips, then seems to remember something. Her gloved hand lashes out and my cheek explodes. The sudden pain sends a jolt into my captive groin, but I can't help think how like a Femme Fatal she is from an old movie.

"Get the luggage," she says without malice. In her dippy looking cloche hat that looks like an upturned flower pot, she just seems sweet and lost.

I jog back towards the far end of the train. Despite my uniform, I feel naked. It's the lack of skyscrapers. This little seaside station is in the open air with only seagulls above second storey level.

A middle aged slave in railway company is already dragging crates out of the guards van.

I blush. Whether it's conditioning or embarrassment, I don't like talking to other slaves. "Hi, do you have a bag for Lena White?"

"Right here," he says. He drags a case out and pauses to glance down the platform. "Is she that foxy dyke?"

At this distance, Lena is just a sleek form, like a manikin in a shop window. I frown. "There's only one passenger on the platform."

"So, what's her story?"

He shows no sign of moving, so I lean past him and haul the case out myself. As it bumps onto the platform, I say "No idea, mate," I don't want to be rude. Slaves have ways of making trouble for each other. I add, "She bought me on the way to the station."

He chuckles suggestively. "Probably wants to enjoy a dirty week of tongue service, eh?"

My penis pulses in its cage, but I flush. "She's come a hell of a long way from New Womb if that was all she wanted."

"Well then, brother, I hope you can make it worth her while."

I shrug and start dragging the wheel trunk towards my mistress.

"Be like that," he calls after me. "See you around."

The case is heavy. I arrive before her puffing and panting.

Lena slaps me again. "Don't dawdle." Then she turns on her elegant heel and heads for the station exit.

I follow her clip-clopping boots, my cheeks throbbing in time to her step, eyes on the seams of her stockings. The cage prickles around my captive cock and I wonder; was the other slave right? I've been a slave for more than ten years--ten years while my other self was no doubt living my life in the 21st century, going to college, losing his virginity--I shouldn't be this excited by a new mistress.

Lena stops to speak to the station mistress - from the signs she doubles as a post mistress - and I check out the street.

The sheer normality hits me like a bucket of ice water. To a guy from England's Midlands, New Womb with its Art Deco skyscrapers is exotic. In a city like that, it's easy to forget you were ever anything but a slave, and that there are places... worlds... where women actually want to have sex with men. Here though... I shudder.

I guess seaside town look the same anywhere in the multiverse. The street is lined with quirky shops and cafes, most already closed up for the season. I shrink in embarrassment, suddenly ashamed to be a collared slave. This could be back home... except for the odd oldfashioned automobile rattling down the gritty street.

Not just that, I remind myself. None of the passersby are younger than eighteen. They're all in skirts or dresses. Gloves and hats are de riguer. No denims, a lady does not walk around in work wear. Instead, every single woman is wearing stockings... Seamed stockings that come to an end somewhere beyond all those swishing hemlines. Then bare thigh webbed by garter belts. How could I have taken all this for granted?

The blood drains from my brain into my groin. My penis inflates against its bars and I sway on the spot.

"So, there is no taxi?" says Lena, sharply.

"Sorry miss," says the station mistress. "End of season, you see. Marcia always visits the Mother Lands."

"So how," asks Lena. I detect a brittle edge in her voice. "Am I supposed to get to my accommodation?"

"Ask at the inn, they have a van." The station mistress slams down her shutter.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" says Lena. She sniffs. "Right, this way." She sets off at a stride.

I drag the case after her, struggling not to fall behind. The pressure in my groin subsides and I just feel sweaty and abused.

A open topped car skids up to a halt making both of us jump.

A vamp in a leather pilot's helmet leans out of the driver's seat. "Say Lena, want a lift?"

Lena stiffens. "Charli! What the hell are you doing her?"

Charli shrugs. "I felt like a break."

"I'm the one taking a break. From women like you."

"Then you don't want a lift?" The engine roars.

"Hey! I didn't say that," yells Lena, laughing

Charli pulls a lever and the boot opens. "Hop in. Plenty of room for luggage in the back."

I drag the luggage to the rear and heft it into the boot. By the time I'm in back seat, Lena is already sitting next to Charli. She wraps a burgundy scarf around her hat. "I suppose you already know where I'm staying", she shouts over the din.

"Sure, doll, Clifftop Cottage," says Charli. The car lurches forward. "But let's take the scenic route!"

So we hurtle up the street. I glimpse a main street with an inn and fish brokers and chandlers, and strong armed sailer women. Then we're out of Saint Eves and whizzing along a cliff top with a view far out to sea.

With the wind in my face and the back of the car to myself, it's easy to pretend I'm a free man, and the woman in the passenger seat is my girlfriend. I stare at the nape of her neck and wonder what it will be like to kiss it.

(Continued)

Useful posts on other people's blogs....

2011-10-12T01:29:00.000-07:00

Robert Anthony talks about asking for Femdom the first time. Here are a selection of his wise words:

The truth is, there's no trick or magic bullet which is going to get you what you want. You have to ask for it, and be prepared to take the consequences, whatever they may be....

The other thing that you have to think about is that, if you are at the stage of being ready to ask for this, then you have probably overcome all your initial reactions long ago, you know the whole 'I shouldn't find this exciting but I do' thing... but SHE hasn't. As time goes on you become more relaxed with everything.....

I think aiming for a little at a time is perhaps a good strategy, baby steps gives her time to get comfortable with what you are asking for before you drop the next fantasy on her. Remember that old saying 'it's only kinky the first time', it's bang on the money that is. Trust me, there's always going to be more you want and you're never going to get it all in one go, and your more likely to get some of what you want and keep a happy wife if you let things move at a pace that suits her ....

Meanwhile, Fursissy has a well-informed series about the "economics" of Femdom:

I decided to theorize about a few things that really explain a lot of the inequities of the D/s lifestyle (beyond the lifestyle itself).

Femdom relationships, most noticeably the courting process and raw numbers can almost all be explained through economic theory. I'm not sure if this is really useful to anyone, but it should hopefully shed some light on things especially for subs seeking Dommes and for Dommes seeking subs and weeding through the applicants.

Read the whole thing - for those of us who don't exist in the BDSM community, it's a reminder that really the grass is not greener, nor the latex shinier, on the other side of the bars. Robert Anthony's world of Femdom within a marriage suddenly looks all the more attractive.

He demonstrates that it is at least sometimes doable, but only if you approach it sensibly and honestly, more or less what I describe in the my Femdom manual.

Whips and Stockingtops: Disappointed

2011-09-21T06:37:00.000-07:00

My mistress is disappointed.

She started preparing for her date hours ago. I bathed her, dried her, massaged her, rolled on her stockings, the heat from her pussy like the sun shining on my face. As I watched her slip into the negligee, the chastity cage clenched around my captive cock. She was almost breathless with anticipation, and I was dripping.

And then the phone rang. Tallulah can't make it tonight.

So now what happens?

Do I get to serve instead? Lash her pussy with my tongue?

Will she take it out on me? Lash my back with her whip?

Or will she slip into her pyjamas and call for a book?

Which is it to be....

Perfect flapper with whip...

2011-09-05T02:21:00.000-07:00

This one is from a site that regularly posts femdom drawings and paintings:

Apart from the boots, the she's not dressed as a dominatrix. She could have come straight from my whips and stockingtops fantasies....

The appeal of Permanent Chastity: becoming invulnerable but also vulnerable

2011-08-31T05:55:00.000-07:00

The fantasy of permanent chastity, the experience of dipping into it via timed chastity... it's odd.

On the one hand, being locked into a chastity belt with no chance of release gives you a tremendous sense of invulnerability.

You can go on all night, but can she?

It resolves all those awful mixed messages we get about women and sex.

It also turns you into a sex god - armed with a prosthetic, you have all the staying power of silicon rubber. The only limit is your endurance and her capacity for pleasure.

Nice.

On the other hand, having no access to your genitals makes you utterly vulnerable.

Being turned on doesn't quite hurt, but there's a risign sense of panic as you build up this head of steam with no safety valve. You're drowning in your desire, easily controlled, used and discarded.

In fantasy land you become the ultimate disposable one-night stand. Infinitely willing, unselfish by definition (since your only real pleasure is an echo of hers), the ultimate in safe sex, and yet so obviously missing what's needed for a long term relationship that nobody will think ill of her if she doesn't give you her phone number in the morning.

Apparently, not.

In the real bedroom, in play, you're still discarded and rejected.

There is always a deliciously bleak moment where she's sated and ready for sleep, and you lie there still turned on, like a vibrator left on a low setting.

All evening, you know it's coming... like the moment when you must get up from the fireside and tramp off into the winter night.

And when it does come, it's always a shock what you've gotten yourself into. But there's a certain glory in taking your place in the darkness.

You'll be back. (And, if you do your job properly, so will she.)

Roman Slave (caption)

2011-08-24T08:36:00.000-07:00

(Double-click to enlarge)

Whips and Stockingtops: Bookworm

2011-08-16T13:47:00.000-07:00

An hour ago, I finished my duties and came to kneel at her feet.

And kneel.

And kneel.

Every time she turns the page, or sighs, a pulse goes through my chastity cage.

At last she yawns and stares off to the side, not really seeing me - I'm just a slave, after all.

In a moment, she'll have me unroll her stockings, fold away her dress, and I'll glimpse her white flesh and take that afterimage to my basket on the kitchen floor to toss and turn all night, yearning, wanting.

But before then, there's just a chance she'll use my tongue.

Slowly, her legs uncross, and the pressure builds up in my chastity belt and--

Cold Disregard

2011-08-09T05:49:00.000-07:00

(Click to enlarge)

(No, I haven't entirely given up on captions and erotica. I've just been busy blogging and promoting my femdom manual.)

Free review copies of "The Vanilla Dominatrix"!

2011-08-02T09:32:00.000-07:00

I'm giving away 10 review copies (PDF) of my new Femdom relationship book. All you have to do is pop over to my new blog, subscribe to it, then leave a comment.

First come, first served*

*Though if you read the book, you are unlikely to be coming when you are serving :)

UPDATE: OFFER NOW CLOSED :(

"The Vanilla Dominatrix" published!

2011-08-01T07:05:00.000-07:00

It's finally done! I'm exhausted! (Only the paperback is available at the moment. As I understand, the ebook will follow.)

It is my distilled wisdom on getting your wife or girlfriend to take you as a sex slave (part-time), without making an ass of yourself.

Of this more later. But here's the thing from the back of the book:

Wouldn’t it be nice to get the vanilla woman you love to enjoy sexually dominating you?

Sorry, you can’t change her.

All the persuasion and pleading in the world won’t turn her into an all-strutting, all-teasing latex super-bitch!

The good news is, you don’t have to turn her into anything. You just have to sell her a part-time slave – you!

This book takes you through offering her what she can’t and shouldn’t get in your real-life relationship, and how to manage the results – yes, you’re the one who has to do all the work.

You get to be authentically enslaved, and she gets to be a “Vanilla Dominatrix.”

Read on, and find out how.

Most useful post on male chastity ever

2011-07-26T01:52:00.000-07:00

http://secretchastityhusband.blogspot.com/2010/08/male-chastity-pleasure-and-devotion.html?showComment=1311670339491#c8961910318934017262

Perfect approach...

2011-07-19T16:39:00.001-07:00

Go read and learn!

Roman Mistress...

2011-06-15T09:41:00.000-07:00

A hot Mediterranean day in a ruined Roman city and I've got the place to myself. I slip off my sandals and walk barefoot over the warm, worn flagstones of the main street. I mop the sweat from my eyes. It's easy to imagine myself two thousand years in the past. I'm a slave on an errand for my mistress... a luscious black-haired Roman girl with olive skin and a fiery temper.

White flashes off to my left.

I blink. It could have been the swirl of a flowing gown. It could have been her.

I turn off the main street down an ally between the foundations of ancient shops and houses. Ahead, there's a high wall of crumbling brick. A sign in Turkish and English says "SLAVE MARKET ->".

My groin gives a lurch. I turn to hurry in the direction of the arrow and the grit punishes the soles of my feet.

I stop to put on my sandals and notice a hole in the wall. I peer through.

It leads into small room that must be a slave cell. The Department of Antiquities has been at work - a gate of wooden bars is bolted shut across the doorway. Beyond the bars something moves.

I push my head through the hole, into the cool of the brick chamber and hear voices calling out like Turkish street vendors, but in Latin - "Serva pulchra! Ecce! Serva pulchra!" Through the gaps in the wood, I glimpse naked flesh - a breast or buttock, a furry pussy or flaccid penis and balls, in skin tones from white to ebony - and swathes of fabric catching the sun as Roman men and women peruse the human merchandise.

Somebody's making a movie!

The place must be closed. I start to withdraw, but then I see it; a bronze slave collar just lying on the straw on the floor of the cell.

What if I slipped in and took it? It's just a prop, they'll have hundreds of them.

I shuck off my rucksack and wriggle through the hole. I have to walk my hands through the straw before I can get my legs down.

The collar is icy cool to the touch. Erection growing, I lift it to my throat and close it. There's a "snick!" and it's clamped around my neck.

My heart leaps into my throat. Gasping for breath, I fumble around the metal band, feeling for the catch. But there is no catch. The panic subsides and I realise that it's not designed to open. Perhaps at the hostel, with a safety pin...

A naked girl passes the gate. The wood only lets me glimpse slices of blond hair and honey skin. Now I want to press up close and see the scene - be part of the scene.

Crap! I'm wearing camo-pattern cargo pants and a "I love Ali's Kebabs" T-shirt. They'll notice me in seconds. I strip off down to my briefs--damn! Red Y-fronts with black trimmings. Hell, half the actors are naked anyway...

I bundle my clothes into the corner. Naked now except for the bronze collar, I crawl up to the gate and press my face to the rough wooden bars.

Butterflies gather in the pit of my stomach. It looks real!

They've restored the front of the buildings. It's just a big open courtyard, no columns, no shady little roofs like you expect from the books. Instead, naked slaves stand outside their cells in the sweltering heat while men and women in togas - though I'm sure that's not the right name - inspect their teeth, squeeze their biceps, breasts or buttocks.

There's a sob from nearby. The blond girl is off to the side, standing in front of the next door cell. Her skin is stretched over powerful muscles - she has the body of an athlete - but she slouches, shoulders hunched away from me. She sobs again.

She can't be doing it for effect, because I can't see any cameras. "Cheer up," I say.

She half turns her head, and a yellow braid swishes over her bare shoulder. "I'm just not used to this," she says in what sounds like a German accent. "I'm not a slave."

"Well, it's who you're being right now," I say as brightly as I can. "If you're going to be a naked slave, be a proud one. You don't want to look as if you're destined to dig turnips."

"Whats a turnip?" She shrugs her shoulders. "But you are right." She draws herself up and stands there like an amazon.

A man barks, "Right then! Right then! Out with you!" My gate swings open. A burly man with a stick towers over me. "On your feet boy!"

"S...sorry," I stammer.

He taps my flanks with the stick. "Just get up and stand next to the girl." He coughs then calls out, "Handsome male Celt, luscious female German. Buy both for a good deal!" He must think I'm one of the actors.

Relieved but nervous, I stumble into the sunlight and force myself not to turn and stare at the blond. I can feel the reflected heat from her skin, smell her animal scent. Instead, I play my part and try to keep my eyes front.

We're near corner of the courtyard. Just across from me, to my left, is another actor. He's not entirely naked - he's wearing a silver hip belt and some sort of cage over his groin.

He meets my gaze with hopeless eyes. I blush and slowly look away, pretending I'm just glancing around the slave market.

There's still no sign of the cameras and the rest of the city rises up behind the courtyard - towering temples, six-storey apartment blocks - must be some sort of collapsible set mounted on the roof-

-except that I can see people moving on the apartment balconies.

I twist around to look behind me. The clothes are still bundled in the back of the cell. The jagged hole frames the ruined foundations of the city. But when I look up, over the roof of the slave market, there's another apparent block, with an old man leaning over the balcony watching the market.

This is real!

I caught in a time slip and I'm a slave. Anything could happen to me. Anything...

There's a sharp thwack and my left buttock seems to explode in pain. "Eyes front, boy!"

I turn obediently. There's still time to make a break for that hole in the wall. To hell with my clothes. If I'm quick--

--it's Her. My fantasy Roman mistress, strolling under the shade of parasol. She has a train of slaves, but I barely see them.

She's as I imagined; petite with a mountain of jet black hair piled onto her head, wide dark eyes lined with kohl. Her white gown flows as she walks, the swishing hem giving me glimpses of elegant feet wrapped in the leather straps of sandals.

My penis rears up in greeting.

She doesn't seem to notice, but her taller friend - an older looking woman with hennaed red hair - giggles. "Cordelia, I believe this one has the required virility."

Cordelia's dark eyebrows lower. "I'm still not sure, Livia."

"Just you wait until he has a seadpod fitted!" With a giggle, Livia releases her arm and steps up to me. "Boy?"

"Yes..." Yes what? Mistress sounds corny. "...lady."

"Can you read and write?"

I nod.

"Are you a virgin?"

I blush and my erection shrivels. I want to make an excuse, explain about the years studying but...

"Can you give a massage?"

I nod again. I got quite good at that with Mary - not that it got her knickers off.

"See?" says Livia. She moves to the blond girl. "What about you?"

"I can read and write, do accounts, I know how a dinner should be served and hair dressed..."

The pulse in my ears drowns her words. The German is built like a cat, all sinew and muscle, with pert conical breasts almost as an afterthought. Livia is chattering away to her, unaware of the danger.

I glance around.

Cordelia is in conversation with the slaver. She nods and an older male slave hands over three silver coins - is that all I'm worth. "Come on Livia, I want to go to the baths."

Livia giggles. The pair of them link arms and sweep off across the courtyard. A couple of the slaves follow with parasols.

The older slave just grunts. "You two, come with me." He leers. "We're stopping by the jewellers on the way home."

Still naked, the German blond and I set off after him and into the streets of the living Roman city.

Though I don't look back, I'm aware of that hole into the 21st Century getting further and further away. The bronze collar warms in the sun, until it feels like it belongs.

Review: “How to Find Your Sex Slave – Delux Edition”

2011-06-15T03:52:00.000-07:00

HH sent me a copy of his “How to Find Your Sex Slave – Delux Edition”.

(First let me say that HH seems to be a real male dom, and not, for example a Syrian lesbian. We’ve chatted online, and he comes across as normal, not bombastic or full of BS. His “war stories” are self consistent and the book itself has the ring of truth and good sense about it.)

Since I am a male “sex slave” (part-time), the book was rather odd reading. It was also interesting, because HH has covered the opposite corner from the one I’m working on.

My “The Vanilla Dominatrix” is for submissive men already in a relationship. HH’s “How to Find Your Sex Slave” is for dominant men looking for a relationship (or a series of encounters).

Like mine, HH’s book doesn’t set out to tell you how to manipulate others, or try to sell you on secret mind control techniques. Nor does he encourage any sense of entitlement or espouse a cod-philosophy - this isn’t a Gorean dating manual.

So what does he offer?

Think about the sensible but ethical vanilla dating advice an experienced friend might offer you: where to look, and how; how to be yourself, but present that self effectively; how to handle online dating without blowing it; the truth about crazy chicks and gold diggers….

Now translate that into BDSM. HH is that experienced kinky friend you wish you had. He’ll guide you through the perils and pitfalls of online kinky dating, so you can attain the real offline pleasures of the bedroom.

I think the book could go a little further. I’d like see a little practical philosophy, something on distinguishing between vanilla and BDSM roles, and more on dating safety protocols (even though HH demonstrates that this is less of an issue than you’d think). Also, the book gets you to the point where you agree to meet. It strikes me that guidance would be useful to set you up for that first coffee. And beyond that, some resources for inexperienced doms would be good – at least a note on the need to research safety.

However, these are all ways that the book could be even more useful. It already supplies what – judging from the forums – a lot of male doms need; a good guide for making genuine connections with female subs, without beating about the bush.

If there’s a submissive lady out there for you, this book should help you cut through the crap and get to the point and get talking to here in real life. I suspect some men may find the process frighteningly easy....

Find the book at: www.find-kink.com/thebook.html

The Vanilla Dominatrix (what I'm working on)

2011-05-08T14:54:00.000-07:00

OK, I admit it, I got side-tracked from writing erotica!

Instead, I'm putting together a how-to book I'm calling The Vanilla Dominatrix. It's about how to sell yourself as a part-time slave to your partner, without changing who she is, and without nagging or manipulating.

The concept is; what would she act like if you really were her slave, and she felt OK about that?

What got me started on this, was the fascinating discovery that some Ancient Roman ladies, really did use their male slaves for more intimate purposes.

Male slaves obviously offer some unique benefits to non-fetish, i.e. vanilla mistresses. The trick then has to be to make sure that the benefits outweigh the cost to her.

Romans had male chastity belts!

2011-04-28T13:42:00.000-07:00

I've been doing some research for my book, "The Vanilla Dominatrix".

Look at the fresco from Pompeii - she's at her leisure, naked, but he's wearing clothes. I think it's a dead cert he's her slave.

And, guess what? I found some interesting quotes:

Is your slave's prick the only true one?

--Martial (Roman poet)

Martial also gives a hint that even in mixed baths there could be "women's recesses" (7.35.7: feminei recessus) of uncertain function

--Fagan “Bathing in Public in the Roman World

For men, there is both a large fibula (like a modern safety pin), that pierces the foreskin and covers the penis, and a theca, a metal pouch, or leather bag (aluta) that encloses the genitals

---Younger “Sex in the Ancient World”

A small percentage of Roman ladies could do pretty much as they liked. Some of what went on must have resembled my darkest femdom fantasies.

Look at this slave. Is he taking breakfast to his mistress? What else will she want? And, under that kilt, is he sporting a theca?

I don't envy him his life. But I'd love to swap places for a month or so...

New chastity belt manufacturer?

2011-04-26T03:40:00.000-07:00

I can't decide if these guys are for real or not; it's not clear how the devices lock, or even adjust.

But, I like the idea of a fabric-based CB.

My own device uses polypropylene webbing, plus a DIY hard cup.

The innovation here is the mesh penis tube, which really would let you wear the thing 24/7 - assuming it didn't make mince out of your cock!

However, I'm not convinced that this would stop you getting off by simply massaging your cock through the mesh. This design is probably of more interest to TG/TV types than denialists.

The Challenge (now on Smashwords)

2011-04-13T02:15:00.000-07:00

I've polished my short story "The Challenge" and turned the steam up to 11.

Since I write mostly for kicks, the whole editting process is a bit of a drag. For this reason, I've put the final version of the erotic story of male chastity up on Smashwords as an ebook.

If you want to read the souped up version, and find out what happens at the end, you're going to have to chip in to buy me a pint of beer...

The padded envelope thudded into the bottom of the empty mail box.

I stood there in the snow and thought, What if it splits and the keys fall out?

And suddenly the chastity belt felt too tight. A mailed fist seemed to clutch my imprisoned groin. My cock swelled to bursting point and I hunched forward, as if punched in the stomach.

It was then I saw her boots; well worn black leather laced tightly around her calves, beaded with drops of water.

“Excuse me,” she said in an out of town accent.

Above the boots, black fishnet stretched over shallow curves like a wire-frame computer graphic. She had one leg turned out slightly, so I could see the inside of her thigh. Was that a glimpse of stockingtop under the hem of her miniskirt?

The girl stood in the half light from the streetlamp, winter coat gaping, tight top leaving her slender midriff bare. She was… impossibly tall.

“Excuse me,” she repeated.

I looked up and saw her lips were blood red and her bobbed hair a natural black with a dusting of snow flakes.

“Do you know any good night clubs?” chipped in her friend, appearing from behind her. The second girl was a walking hourglass. Her winter coat was open and she also favored black, but was short, with heavy breasts overflowing the top of a burgundy velvet corset, almost a corset. A long gypsy skirt hid her legs, but I glimpsed shiny leather Victorian ankle boots below the hem.

“We’re from out of town,” said the tall one.

“I’m not sure...,” I said. It was hard to think when I couldn’t stop my gaze flickering from bust to leg and back again. “There’s Wet and Rocky. It’s on Low Street.”

The two girls advanced until they were just a little too close for comfort. Now I could see down into the shorter girl’s cleavage. My cock heaved against its steel tube and I felt light headed.

“We don’t know where that is,” she said.

“You’ll have to show us,” said the leggy girl, over her shoulder.

I suppressed a groan. Picked up by two beautiful girls, and it had to be the night I’d trapped myself in a chastity belt!

“OK,” I said, dimly aware that this was a Bad Idea. It wasn’t as if I even knew when my key would bounce back, “Address Unknown”. A week perhaps?

“I’m Larch,” said the tall girl as we set off.

“And I’m Rose,” said the other, throwing me an appraising look.

“Fraser,” I said a little nervously. We walked in silence, my cock throbbing with each clack of feminine boot on damp pavement.

There was a queue outside Wet and Rocky – grungy rockers, flamboyant Goths plus some steam punk types – flying goggles for the boys, crinolines for the girls. I opened my mouth to say goodbye, but just then an entire stag night left the club. The queue surged forward and somehow I found myself hemmed in by bodies, the two girls dancing around me.

Larch towered over me, her arms above her head, and undulated, like a ribbon fluttering in slow motion. A ripple flowed up from her boots, over her endless, fishnet-wrapped legs, her flat bare stomach, and into her long arms to set her fingers fluttering.

My cock strained against its tube and I swayed dizzily.

Then I felt hands on my waist and hot breath on my ear. “I’m glad we bumped into you,” purred Rose. She wriggled, nudging her corseted breasts into my back.

I squirmed, too turned on to pull away, but too embarrassed to relax.

“This is fun!” cried Larch. The tall girl writhed closer until her small breasts brushed my chin. Then she slid against me and the world pulsed in time to the throb in my captive cock.

An electric current seemed to flow between the two women, prickling my skin as it passed over me...

...and I wanted to weep. Any moment and they’d discover my chastity belt. I tried to slip free, but Rose’s grip shifted up from my waist to nip my nipples. The pain made me shudder, but it also sent electric pulses into my chastity belt.

I whimpered and something squirted from my captive penis.

Larch didn’t seem to notice. “Let’s go!” she said with a squeaking giggle.

And somehow, drunk on lust, I found myself staggering outside and into a taxi. It was only as we entered the hotel room that my head cleared.

Four kinds of fetish...

2011-04-12T06:32:00.000-07:00

My friend Furcissy makes a very interesting point:

For everyone that gets turned on by a scenario, a handful have a fetish for the activity and the majority have a fetish for the situation surrounding the activity. I think that many subs may feel like they have a larger kink-interest base than they really do because of this.

If you read the rest of his post, you'll find he means that the fetish can be for...

...the act or situation itself - let's call it a True Fetish.
For example, I have a chastity fetish. I like being locked in my chastity belt (sort of). I also like being mildly whipped (sort of). Furcissy likes humiliated by being feminized (but hates it).
... the situation implied by the act - let's call this a Hazard Fetish.
The fetish act that kicked off this line of thought was "being ignored". One several occasions, Furcissy spent several hours kneeling in a corner, and was most likely forgotten during this time. He came to the conclusion that it was nice if this was a possibility, but not if it were a main activity.
I, like many others, crave roles in which a whipping is a constant hazard. I don't really enjoy the actual pain, but I do enjoy the sense of powerlessness, and the sense-enhancing fear implied by the possibility. Of course, I need to be whipped from time to time to make the thing real, but I wouldn't enjoy "games" in which all that happened was me getting flogged.

I'll add a third category; a fetish for...

...the sense of horror associated with an act or situation - call it the Horror Fetish (duh).
This is all to do with using fear to heighten arousal, and very little to do with what you'd actually want to do in real life. The fantasy usually doesn't stretch much further than the act, or the moment of entering the situation. Into this bag go most castration and cuckolding fantasies.

It's very easy to get these mixed up.

True and Horror can look similar, because both can involve a lot of aversion. The only obvious difference is that the True focuses on the after, whereas Horror is all about lead up.

True and Hazard, meanwhile, are separated by degree. The problem is that fantasies tend to drift towards the intensities of Hazard at the expense of more livable True - e.g. it's easier to imagine being whipped until you bleed, rather than a quiet day as a slave.

Why does this matter? Because you need to be very careful what you wish for...

Insomniac Night Owl's questions

2011-03-26T14:50:00.000-07:00

As usual, Insomniac Night Owl has asked some interesting questions about Vesta, AKA "Chastity Planet".

1) Other than voting (and sexual) rights, are male residents considered the equals of females in Minerva? Is there anything to prevent a "male suffrage" movement, or "open our cup" protests?

(For those who've just tuned in, Minerva is the original Utopian adult only settlement where the males all wear alien tech chastity cups.)

Yes, they have equal rights. However, the constitutions of individual settlements are guaranteed by the Aliens who own the Adult Zone.

2) What is the founding principal/culture block for Amazonia? Is it a lesbian culture that grudingly admits males (for a constitutional obligation, some sort of gender based health concern, etc) out of necessity? Are they outright female supremacists who keep males around to underscore their philosophy? Is it a colony of sexual abuse victims that uses the chastized males as therapy?

Haven't visited there yet. However, since this is escapist erotica, I'd tend to stay clear of the rehabilitation angle.

I think it's primarily female supremacist, however there will be a variety of motives for going there, not least the being served hand and foot.

3) Does the position of males in Amazonia correspond to one of the Femtopian castes? Or is it a unique level?

Unfree Neuters. Very much slaves in the mundane sense. Since there's no escape route, the situation is worse than in Femtopia.

4)Other than sexual fetish, is there any reason for males to go to Amazonia (either short term or as a long term resident)? If so, what is the attraction(s)?

It's a big galaxy, and Amazonia is a small state! Subtler than straight up fetish is the desire to subordinate to a female. The relationships can be quite nurturing. Also, there are big bucks to be earned by selling yourself for a tour.

5) How do heterosexual relationships work in Amazonia? Is there some semblance of dating/courtship, or does a woman just grab the guy off the street? Is a male allowed to ask a woman out in Amazonia? Is he allowed to refuse her request for sex?

The men are all slaves and have no more control over their fate or bodies than historical slaves, except that physical safety is guaranteed.

6) Do Neutralia and Amazonia participate in the demerit system? Do they have their own color codes for the collars?
No. Neutralia is a unisex utopia. Amazonia is a slave state.

~For Amazonia, at least, it seems like you might want to have one collar for "free"/communally owned males, and another color for ones who currently have a mistress (lets the women know whether a male is fair game, or if someone's gonna complain).

See above. The only men in Amazonia are slaves.

7)What is the founding block/principal for Neutalia? Romantics desiring a "non-aggressive" sexuality (defining penetrative intercourse as aggressive)? Transvestites? Something else?

Not sure yet. Possibly - like most real states - a confluence of contrasting interests, i.e. everything!

8)Does Neutralia use gender neutral clothing? Can people where the clothes of either gender? Can women go topless, or do both genders need to wear shirts? What about lingerie/swimwear?

I'll let you know when I find out!

9)How does the demotion from Free Neuter to Thrall work in Femtopia? Is there a wedding-style proposal? Do friends/family celebrate? Or is it just a matter of filing paperwork?

I'll need a better term than demotion. "Transfer" perhaps? As for ritual... no tradition to do with proposals, no paper work either - since the whole system works of key word commands. However, I suppose there'd be the equivalent of a stag night, and complexities about prexisting friendships with other Free Neuters.

10)Are there any reasons to travel between the different colony-nations?

The usual - business, tourism. Some advantages in going from Femtopia to Minerva, since F/;M anal penetration has no random penalties in the latter.

Are cup sizes/access determined by the local rules, or by whatever the lowest/least applicable rule is?
Something like that.

Do the colony-nations have to return males seeking to "defect" (or run from their mistresses)?
Do the other colony-nations recognize individual female claims to particular males (such a Femtopian's bondsman)?

No. However, the tour timer stops counting down if you leave your assigned state for more than a couple of weeks.

11)Are the chastity cups purely to restrict access (and mount dildos)? Or do they have other functions? For example, you've mentioned they might have "teasing" or "punishment" modes. Do they do other things, to?

Depends on the state. Vesta is built to be non-male orientated.

12)Are there "leash laws" in some colony nations? Does a male's collar display his mistress's name?
Quite possibly. Yes - collars display names.

13)Do bondsmen (etc.) have to be owned by individuals? Or can they be owned by legal entites - corporations, trusts, governments?
All of the above. However, there will be caps on numbers depending on supply and demand.

Then, regarding Femtopia:

Bondsman/Thrall distinction
Neither has property rights. However, the Thrall is on duty 24/7, whereas the Bondsman is off duty after his 8 hours.

The real distinction is that Bondsmen are an investment. You can't make that much money renting them out, because there are plenty of Free Neuters providing free, or quasi-free competition. However, you can make a nice return selling them on as Bondsmen.

You can only own one male - Thrall, Neuter or Mute - but you can have several Bondsmen.

What prevents most women from mistreating their bondsmen is the fear that they will demote or transfer to escape if they are treated as badly as the lower ranks.

The law of ten

2011-03-16T09:48:00.000-07:00

According to the Kinsey Institute website:

"A study looking at message board posts found 71% of heterosexual males but only 11% of heterosexual females and 12% of homosexual males prefer a dominant role when engaging in sexual bondage."

And

“14% of men and 11% of women have had some sexual experience with sadomasochism”

Let’s assume that these figures are roughly correct. Roughly a tenth of straight women have played BDSM games. Out of them, one tenth identify as sexual
ly dominant.

So, imagine there are 100 women in your widest possible social circle, only 10 of them are remotely likely to be the kind of person who’s easily BDSM friendly, and out of them one (1) identifies as sexually dominant.

If you can find her, you’re competing with between one and three other guys, and one of them’s probably her boyfriend.

This is what it looks like:

Excerpt from "Chaste Honeymoon"

2011-03-15T04:18:00.000-07:00

Lewis woke on the couch.

He rubbed his eyes and squinted at the clock. “Two in the morning!” He stumbled to the bedroom, but the bed was still made. Panic welled up in his gut. Elizabeth never stayed out late. But the Femtopia Tourist Office promised, “The safest girls night out in the Galaxy.” Nothing bad could happen to here, or in any other of the different states of Vesta.

A familiar snorting giggle drifted up from the courtyard.

Lewis exhaled. That was what woke him. He hurried to the kitchen to get the antique coffee machine going. He scalded himself a couple of times, but managed to produce a mug of latte that he hoped his wife would approve of. He brought it back through to the living room and placed it neatly on a coaster. If he could get her onto the couch, he could go down on her, and then she might let him come.

Down in the courtyard, Elizabeth was deep in conversation. The other voice was deeper but feminine.

Lewis waited, watching the milk go flat.

At last, he stood up. “I’m not a damned slave.” He marched out to the balcony and lent over to look down into the courtyard garden they shared with the other apartments.

His wife was sprawled on double-lounger next to a woman with bobbed black hair – Tallulah. Lewis opened his mouth, then remembered how casually the woman had given him a demerit.

“I think I can see our home star,” said Elizabeth.

“So,” drawled Tallulah. “How do you like your new home?”

Elizabeth giggled and crossed her legs. “It’s a bit… wild.”

Tallulah twisted and propped herself up on one elbow. Lewis saw that the back of her mini dress was just a web of strings. “It’s supposed to be wild.”

“Lewis made it sound like a Feminist Utopia.”

Tallulah laughed. “It is. But I think the men expect something kinkier.”

“Kinkier?”

On the balcony, Lewis blushed.

“You know,” continued Tallulah. “Whips and chains. Women in charge.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No. Lewis isn’t like that.”

“Really. Who’s idea was this?”

There was a long silence. Then Elizabeth said, “So you think all this excites him?”

“You’ll have to ask him yourself.” Tallulah lent over and kissed Elizabeth on the lips. “You excite me.”

Elizabeth sat bolt upright. “Gosh.” She gave a snorting laugh. “I… I haven’t done this since girl’s school. I… I thought you fancied Christina.”

“She’s more your type. I just used her as bait to get you out for the night.”

“Type? I don’t have a type. I mean, she is gorgeous, but I’m str—“

Tallulah turned her head and kissed her.

Elizabeth made a throaty mewling sound. She put her hands around the other woman’s head and clamped her close.

Tallulah reached behind herself and worked a lever. The recliner straightened out into a bed. She eased Lewis’s wife down to lie on her back. She brushed aside her long blonde hair and nibbled her ear. “Can you still see your home star?”

“I’m not sure any more.” Elizabeth caressed the other woman’s bare back between the strings. “You have such smooth skin.”

“Regular massages from my mute.” Tallulah stroked the inside of Elizabeth’s knee. The hand crept up under the hem of her summer frock.

“You have a mute?”

“You have panties on.”

Elizabeth giggled. She caught the other woman’s wrist. “I thought you didn’t like men.”

“Can’t stand them,” said Tallulah. She lent over and kissed Elizabeth’s throat. “But mutes don’t count. They might as well be an android. Mine doesn’t even have a name.”

“You’re terrible.” Elizabeth released her grip and slid her hand up the outside of Tallulah’s dress. “You’re not wearing underwear.”

“I like to stay cool.”

“I think I’m overheating,” said Elizabeth, with a dirty snort.

“I can fix that,” said Tallulah. She knelt up, reached under the dress and tugged.

Elizabeth rolled back and drew in her knees, and Lewis glimpsed the dark blonde bush between her honey-colored thighs.

Tallulah threw the undies over her shoulder. “You won’t need these again.”

Elizabeth raised her head. “I will when I go home. They were expensive.”

Tallulah shuffled over to kneel between Elizabeth’s legs. “Well, get your Louie to find them in the morning.”

“It’s Lewis…” Elizabeth started to sit up. “He’s waiting for me. And I happen to be married to him.”

Tallulah laughed. “He shouldn’t have persuaded you to come to Vesta, should he?”

Another snorting laugh. “Probably not.” Elizabeth lay down and opened her legs. “Do you worst, you evil predatory lesbian.”

Tallulah lowered her head. “Mmmmm.”

Lewis’s mouth went dry and he felt sick. He was about to lose Elizabeth to another woman and…

Elizabeth groaned. “It’s been so long… you’re hitting just the… Oh gosh!”

A rhythmic squelching sound reached Lewis’s ears and seemed to echo inside his chastity cup. The world spun and he clung to the balcony railing…

…and still Tallulah lapped at his wife’s groin.

Elizabeth drew in her legs. The heels of her sandals scraped the padded surface. “Don’t stop!” She hunched forward, caught the back of Tallulah’s head, and crushed her into her groin. “Yes! Oh golly gosh! Yes!” Then she flopped back. “Wow.”

Tallulah rose up on her knees and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “It takes a woman to know, no matter how well you train a male… Speaking of which…” She cocked a leg over Elizabeth’s and shuffled forward so that their groins were pressed together. “It’s my turn.”

Elizabeth half sat up. “Oh.” She shook her head. “No. I’ve never done that. Really, I’d like to… but… I don’t know…”

“It’s OK. Come up to my place. I’ve got toys.”

Elizabeth dragged her legs free and swung off the lounger. “Next time perhaps. I’ve need to go to bed.” She turned and ran towards the steps.

Tallulah watched her go, shrugged and set off for the steps on the other side of the courtyard.

Elizabeth’s heels clacked on the stairs.

Lewis hurried back into the apartment and a red haze seemed to settle over him. If the bitch thought she could cheat on him…

The front door opened as he reached it.

“I…” he began.

Elizabeth stood on tiptoe and pushed her tongue into his mouth. It acted like a piston, forcing blood into his penis.

Help? Good BDSM web resources

2011-03-11T15:07:00.000-08:00

I'm putting together a booklet summarising my approach to getting a vanilla partner to do femdom. What it could really do with is a good appendix listing web resources for BDSM and Femdom in particular, and safety in particular.

If anybody's reading this, I'd be really grateful if you'd share!

Johnnys Vintage Archives

2011-03-08T02:02:00.001-08:00

If you haven't already done so, check out Johnnys Vintage Archives. He's been restoring old erotic - he calls them risque - photos, and the results are awesome.

The Challenge (episode 2)

2011-02-07T01:45:00.000-08:00

Revised and enhanced version of this erotic story of male chastity now up on Smashwords.

Design notes for Vesta (Chastity Planet)

2011-01-31T04:38:00.000-08:00

What follows isn’t erotica – it’s the design notes for my erotic world, Vesta. Feel free to use this world in your own stories, as long as you credit me, and don’t change any of the established “facts”.

If you want to add anything to Minerva or Femtopia, please clear it with me first.

(With thanks in particular to Anonymous and Night Owl.)

Erotic Purpose

“Vesta” is intended as a psychologically plausible SciFi world in which male chastity and disempowerment are givens, so that ostensibly vanilla people can have different flavours of Femdom adventures. Most visitors to the planet will have a fairly straightforward and vanilla experience. The erotic stories merely concentrate on the (un)fortunate people who do have “adventures”.

If you like, think of the place as one huge Milgram Experiment.

Design Specifications

Institutions, customs and laws are never about the boy
Vesta belongs to women. Any Femdom is a by-product of female practical and aesthetic desires and needs. Most women don’t go the extra mile to create fetish action – they don’t need to. Women come to Vesta for a variety of reasons, but rarely because they are Dommes.
This is vital in order to support the psychological realism.
Day-to-day life is like ours but with a twist
Too much technology or exoticism makes it hard to identify with the characters or situations.
The setting in the alien-administered Adult Zone ensures that technology is limited and inconsistent.
There are never any free penises on Vesta
For story reasons, male chastity is a given. The most you can hope for is that the tip of your cup opens, enabling you to masturbate. All cups are flesh toned to match the skin of the man, but have a sligth masculine bulge.
Pregancy, STD and physical safety are not an issue
This is fantasy after all. However, the technology ensures this.
Diversity
Vesta is home to many different cultures.
Longevity
This is the far future. Once they hit early middle age, people live a very long time.

Background to the setting: The Adult Zone

Vesta is orbits a star in the Adult Zone. This is a region of the galaxy on the fringe of a civilisation of the inscrutable aliens. Perhaps as an experiment, perhaps as a buffer zone or an attempt at social engineering, the Aliens have invited humans to found civilisations on terra-formed worlds in the zone, with the proviso that there will be no children. (Hence the name).

Technology

Aliens place severe limits on technology within the zone, except in the areas of Law Enforcement, Medicine, Space Transport. There's slightly more leeway for Agriculture, Transport and Construction. So expect aircars, construction machines and harvesters with female operators.

Even so, the experience on any of the planets is primitive compared to the rest of the human galaxy.

Assigning land rights

The aliens control the apportion of land on these Adult Worlds, however anybody with enough people an resources can apply to set up a state as long as it fits the planet’s general theme. If approved, the Aliens provide technology to support the desired culture, e.g. cups and rings for Vesta.

Cultural place in the Galaxy

The Adult Zone acts as a sink for humanity’s misfits and idealists. The worlds range from the grim and murderous to the utopian, e.g. a gladiatorial world, several gay worlds, more primitivist worlds, ones set up to be explicitly BDSM and so on.

Vesta fits into the utopian/idealist end of the spectrum.

Minerva and Femtopia and other settlements

The state of Minerva was settled by utopian Femnists who thought if gender wasn’t a social construct, then it damn well should be. They decided to set up a civilisation in which everybody could be penetrated, but in which nobody had a penis. To this end the Aliens supplied chastity cups and violence inhibitors, and provided rather good hi-tech feeldoes.

In order to bump up the male numbers, the rich philanthropists behind Minverva threw money at the University of New Athens, bought in the best female teachers, and offered cheap education to males in the hope that some of them would stay.

The University proved surprisingly popular with young men, not least because doing a tour on Vesta implied learning to be a good lover.

Initially, most of the residents were transient students, while most of the actual permanent citizens settled into Lesbian relationships.

However, some women found it was hard to persuade the men they loved to stay. Some felt that the closed cup policy was too draconian and did not give them enough leverage, or didn’t like penetrating men. And others believed that women were naturally superior, and wanted a more stratified society. Together they formed an alliance and applied to set up the State of Femtopia on the next-door continent.

Femtopia (The Free Territories of the Feminist Sexual Utopia) is modelled on pre-modern patriarchal cultures, but reversed.

Caste System

Femtopia imposes a caste system on men, intended to nudge them into permanent relationships:

Summary of Femtopia Male Castes

Caste (rank)	Cup	Collar	Obeys	Job	Notes
Free Neuter (1)	Closed, Full	Smoked Glass	No	Yes	Intended for visitors and contractors, but also adopted by guest workers.
Thrall (2)	Opens, Full, Program-able	Gold	Yes	Yes	When a woman owns one bondsman, he becomes a thrall. Analogue of 1950s housewife. Obeys any direct simple orders from the mistress. She can adjust the settings on his cup, e.g. close it for a set time, has a mute button. Post orgasmic, she can open the cup enough to expose the tip of the penis.
Bondsman (2)	Opens outside service hours, Full	Lipstick Red	During service hours	No	When a woman owns two or more thralls, they become bondsmen. Owes 8 hours service to his owner. Has no money of his own and may not be employed except by owner. The intention is that he should find a Mistress who will buy him out. Any post orgasmic woman can open the tip of his cup.
Neuter (3)	Closed, Tight	Bronze Look	Yes	No	A slave. The tight cup forces the testicles to “tuck” and covers the pubic triangle, giving a hairless neutered look. Obeys any direct simple orders from the mistress. Reputed continued state of arousal puts them outside their mistress’ social sphere.
Mute (4)	Closed, Tight	Iron Look	Yes	No	As Neuter, except mute.

Caste Movement

A male can sub-vocalize a key word. 24 hours later, he responds to a confirmation message and the police come to pick him up and transfer him to named resident, or to the auction house. The ex-owner receives no compensation.

Neuter and Mute were originally intended as “rock bottom”. All cups are flesh toned.

Movement

Movement	Cost to slave	Mode	Limitations	Owner Compensated
Promotion	Resets current tour + original tour	To named female resident (not immediately previous owner), unless promoting to Free Neuter.	No waiting	No
Sideways	Resets tour	Compulsory sale via Auction, owner can’t bid.	3 months + 3 months wait for every previous Sideways Move.	Sale price –fee.
Demotion	None. (But if you demote from Free Neuter, you can bank the money offworld)	To named female resident (not immediately previous owner).	1 month wait	No

Example: Peter signs up for a 1 year tour as a Free Neuter. However, he’s not quite good looking enough to find well paid work. After a month, he sells himself as a Bondsman to a coffee shop owner. He flirts with the customers, especially the beautiful Lydia and the slightly aggressive Freya. With 8 months to go,

Freya buys him as her thrall, (making the proprietor happy). However, Freya expects him to continue to work in the coffee shop for money, and to maintain a high-standard of housekeeping, and begins to mistreat him, withdrawing orgasm.

With 5 months to go, he has the following options:

Promote to Free Neuter - This will reset his tour, and add another year to it, meaning he will have 24 months to serve.
Move Sideways – This will reset his tour, giving him 12 months to serve.
Demote to Neuter – Only 5 months to go, but no chance of an orgasm.

He’s so desperate for an orgasm that he opts for sideways, which merely resets his tour.
However, he’s bought by a cleaning company. After 1 month, the hard work and constant beatings, and little chance to socialise and thus get off, make the role unbearable. Rather than wait 6 months before he can go for auction (since this will be his second move), he can either promote to Free Neuter and have 24 months to serve, or Demote to Neuter and have 11. He has little choice but give himself to a Lydia from his coffee shop days. She’s flattered but can’t afford to keep him. After a night of passion, she auctions him off.

A vengeful Freya happens to be at the auction, buys him and makes his life a living hell. Worse, she begins to force him to have anal sex. Since the possible consequences include both demotion and an extended time, he cannot afford to stick around. He demotes to Mute and opts to be auctioned – at least that way his new owner will be able to afford him.

Niki, a cabaret performer, buys him, and he looks forward to 10 months serving a fascinating woman. Unfortunately, befuddled by his pent up sexuality, he falls in love with her and promotes himself to her thrall.

From Mute to Neuter resets his tour, and adds the original time, taking him to 24 months. Neuter to Thrall adds the original time again, taking him to 36 months.

Niki is furious, and feels violated by his presumption and expression of love. She beats him and mistreats him. Thanks to his earlier compulsory sales, he still has a 6 month wait if he wants to move sideways. Unable to face any sort of slavery, he promotes again to Free Neuter – taking him to a 4 year tour – and begins a relationship with Lydia.

Unfortunately, after a year, Lydia’s career takes her off world. If he comes with her, his tour will be suspended, but the cup will remain closed. What’s more important to him? Love or the possibility of an orgasm…?

Meanwhile, the ring given to all women on Vesta enables them to assign demerits to men, with 5 demerits earning escalating public corporal punishment. Mistresses must pay a fine if their man has a public whipping, but can dodge this by administering the punishment themselves in one of the public whipping stations.

Consequences of Anal Sex

Though anal sex is encouraged in Minerva, in Femtopia it carries risks to the male. Several days after having an anally caused orgasm, there’s a 5% chance of Consequences. These are not fully known, and seem to change from time to time, but include: demerit; demotion and ownership or loss of ownership by the penetrator; significant time penalty; and bonding – only the penetrator can now pleasure the male anally. For Free Neuters, the Consequences are always initially bonding. Consequences can permanently change the status of visiting tourists.

Who comes to Femtopia

Of course, the parts of Femtopia nearest Minerva quickly came to resemble Girls Gone Wild on Spring Break. The tourism means that men are offered big bucks to do a tour as a Bondsman, and can also earn good money as a Free Neuter.

For more on Minerva and Femtopia, see below.

Other states

In time, Femtopia spawned other less well funded colonies which attract fewer males, these include:

Amazonia - Female supremacist. All men are closed-cup slaves with few social or legal rights, and a mute button. This gets a steady trickle of volunteers, but can’t really compete with the real Femdom worlds in the Adult Zone. Most “Amazons” are Lesbians, which is less fun than it sounds.
Neutralia - Apart from voting rights, men and women are equal. All resident men have cups that expose the very tip of their penises, essentially giving them a clitoris. Popular with gender benders. For everybody else, a very disorientating place to visit.

Other locations in the system
Other terraformed moons and worlds exist, most with Standard Gravity in the settled areas. All have the same basic conditions, but vary in theme, for example the neo-primitivist jungle world of Flesh.

Culture and Conditions

Fashion, gender relations and whether washrooms and showers are unisex tends to reflect the host culture and individual preferences.

Thanks to the limits on technology, day-to-day life is much like ours. However, most people are used to the high standards maintained by the AIs and droids back home, so initially find the place a bit shabby. Kept Men, Neuters and Mutes have to work very hard indeed to meet what their mistress regards as reasonable standards.

Immigration and Emigration

On arriving at the “Big O” orbital station, men are fitted with cup appropriate to their destination and caste, and women with a ring that enforces infertility and has various powers depending on the location.

Male tourists and visitors, e.g. spacers on shore leave, are always closed cup Free Neuters, but do not have a set tour. However, visas have a time limit. If you overstay, you automatically start a one year tour.

All men resident for more than a month must sign up for a tour, minimum of one year. A Free Neuter, and any other man with permission, has the option to leave at any time, but his cup remains active and closed. He must return and complete the tour before it can be removed. (Being alien technology, nobody even understands how the cups work.)

The rings deactivate on leaving Vesta.

Main vanilla reasons for male immigration are:

Cheap education
Money earned as Free Neuter, or by selling yourself into the Bondsman caste
Gigolo kudos (if you’ve done a tour on Vesta, girls assume you’re good in bed).
To accompany a female partner

Main reasons for female immigration:

Career – Vesta pays well.
Issues with sexuality
To have a break from men
Fun

Men coming to Vesta looking for “traditional” fetish-style Femdom are usually disappointed. The focus is rarely on them, and day to day life usually resolves around service, not sexuality.

Minerva and Femtopia – erotic tensions

Most of the Chastity Planet stories happen between Minerva and Femtopia.

Atmosphere

New Athens like the rest of Minverva, is a mostly sedate university town with stone and brick buildings and retro architecture. There are pubs and clubs, but they close at midnight, and reasonable decorum is enforced.

The part of Femtopia with the best beaches is within easy commute from New Athens, but is under the shuttle path to the Space Port, meaning the property prices are low. So, though most of this area is therefore a sprawling strip development of clubs and pleasure beaches, it also includes the residences of those who prefer to live in Femtopia and commute to Minerva for study or work.

The inland settlements of Femtopia have a bohemian feel. The stunning landscape draws artists and poets, and eco-tourists.

Commuters and internal tourists

Kept Men can travel to Minerva as long as they have their mistress’s permission, so it’s quite common for student couples to shack up here and commute back (the males are closed-cup when in Minerva but maintain the same collar colour).

Similarly, the less well paid staff, or poorer female students, may well prefer to rent a house in Femtopia rather than share an apartment in Minerva. This is especially true of artists and musicians, who need space.

The beach area, of course, is very much girls gone wild. Parties of students come over on the rampage every weekend, and every vacation. Not all the makes make it back to class…

Public Image

Minerva portrays itself as a sedate, safe place. Whenever the topic of Femtopia comes up, the response is to dismiss the place as a a bit of an embarrassment but not ultimately significant - like Sun City in apartheid South Africa, or Vegas in the US.

Consequently, Minerva is the destination of choice for lady students from very conservative worlds, some of whom arrive with their own chaperons. Of course, there's a certain amount of collusion and self deception on the part of the parents.

Femtopia is careful to present a "safe girls night out" image, and not to dwell on the readily available sex- think contemporary Jamaica or Ibitha. Even so, few people would want the place on their CV.

Various inland resorts exist that portray themselves as Minvervan-style enclaves. The food and wine gives ladies of a certain age a good excuse to visit.

Stories

Almost any kind of femdom or chastity story is possible, ranging from the sweet romance through to the full blown revenge tale of a psycho ex girlfriend who tracks the hero down to Vesta.

The Challenge (episode 1)

2011-01-26T04:31:00.001-08:00

Enhanced full version now on Smashwords.

Second Honeymoon on Chastity Planet

2011-01-18T10:20:00.000-08:00

This is the prequel to the dream I had the other night. It's send to end up in my new novel, "Chastity Planet"....

Elizabeth whirled into the apartment, arms outstretched, wavy blond hair flying, summer dress fanning out.”Darling! It’s wonderful!”

Lewis’s eyes flickered to his wife’s pirouetting bare legs and the groin cup seemed to tighten.

A warm breeze made the net curtains billow inward and brought with it the sound of a shuttle crackling up into orbit, back to equality and technology. Lewis set down the cases and eased a crick in his shoulders. He was going to miss the service droids more than he expected.

Elizabeth ran over to the window and pushed aside curtains and lent out. The posture made her calves tense against the leather straps of her high sandals.

Lewis's mouth went dry. Was this really his wife of ten years?

“You were right. It’s beautiful”. She turned. “And so much bigger than at home.” Her dark eyebrows lowered into a frown. “It’s not too much for you to manage?”

Lewis glanced around the room and imagined himself sweeping and mopping. His groin tightened and he was glad that the cup restrained his erection. It was what he came for, after all. But he wasn’t going to admit that. “It will be like reenacting ancient history.” He smiled. “It’ll be worth it for your career.”

Elizabeth’s toothy grin returned. “Well, come and look at the view.”

He wanted to start unpacking, but somehow found himself abandoning the cases and joining her at the window. They could see over the buildings between them and the beach, right across the blue water of the Minervan Straits.

“Beautiful,” breathed Lewis, meaning the warm electricity of her flank on his. He’d come here expecting to be turned on by the subordination and the danger. But it seemed the biggest excitement was his own wife. He slid his arm round her trim waist.

Out on the water, a whale breeched, flicked its tale and emitted a gout of white spray.

Elizabeth gasped.

Lewis drew her around and kissed her full on the lips.

She shook her head. “No. Get off.”

It was as if a magnet suddenly wrenched him backward. He found himself standing well inside the room, his cock beating against its prison like a second heart.

She turned and the sunlight shone through her dress revealing the shadowy curves within. “I’m sorry. It’s just I keep thinking about - you know.” She blushed.

Lewis managed a wry smile. “Well, you’re the boss at the moment.”

Her eyebrows lifted into a tragic expression. “Oh My God.” Her hand went to her mouth and she advanced on him. “Did I… When I said…”

Lewis fingered his red collar and laughed. “Your wish is my command.”

“Oh. Sorry sorry sorry!” She advanced on him and put a hand on his shoulder as if he were a wounded beast. “I had no idea that it would work this way.”

“It’s OK,” he said, trying not to smirk. He’d prepared a speech for this moment, but the throbbing in his groin made it hard to think. “I… I don’t think it will make much difference. I mean, this is your opportunity. So I’ll be looking after you anyway. And anyway I’d never force myself on you if I thought you didn’t…” He trailed off. It sounded so lame. She must realise-

-Elizabeth launched herself at him, drew his head down and kissed him full on the mouth. Her lips parted, inviting his tongue inside.

He kissed her back, his hips twitching of their own accord, driving his neutered groin against her navel.

She pulled free with a gasp. “You’re giving up so much for me!”

Lewis blushed and felt the guilt shrivel his abortive erection.

He had thought about her career, really he had. But that wasn’t why he’d nudged her to take a contract on Vesta and her gratitude made him feel like a heel.

He couldn’t think of anything to say that wasn’t a lie or a confession, so he reached his arms around her waist and drew her back to him and nuzzled her collar bone. Her skin was warm and salty from the heat of their journey and her musk went straight to his groin.

She emitted one of her snorting, deliciously dirty laughs and threw her head back to present her throat. “I’d forgotten how you could push my buttons.”

He walked his lips past her bead necklace, planting dry kisses all the way to the angle of her jawbone. Each contact of lip on skin, sent a jolt into his chastity cup, inflating his penis until it strained and prickled against its cell.

Elizabeth’s breathing quickened and she slumped against him.

Gently, as if handling a precious vase, he turned her around and gently lowered her to the bed, so her bare legs draped over the end.

She raised her face and brushed some stray locks from her forehead. “What are you… I mean what can you…?”

He put a finger to his lips. “Shh...” Then, kneeling, he slid his hands under her skirt, found the waistband of her sensible undies and gently drew them down her legs and over the straps of her sandals.

They lay on the tiles, frumpy and out of place in this world.

On the bed, Elizabeth sighed contentedly.

Lewis caught her behind the knees, drew her down the bed and draped her legs over his shoulders. The hem of her print dress furled back over her thighs, and there was her pussy - thick dark lips lurking behind a frizz the colour of her eyebrows.

Then her hot scent enveloped him. He dove forward, mouth open and kissed the her full on her labia, sucking the salty juices into his mouth, the taste churning his captive groin into a frenzy.

“Oh,” she said. “Yes please.”

A pulse went through Lewis’s down-pointing dick. He had to hold back the torrent! Clenching muscles he didn’t realise he had, he ploughed his tongue up through her slit, between the scritchy curls covering her outer lips and into the soft wet flesh beneath.

Her clitoris was waiting for Lewis, unhooded and hard like a nipple. He flicked it, then flicked again, lengthening his stroke so as to scoop up the juices overflowing from her vagina.

Elizabeth groaned, setting up another wet pulse in his groin.

Lewis tried to draw back on the building ejaculation, but then gave up - here on Vesta, he didn’t need an erection to pleasure his wife.

She gasped. “Gosh! Faster!”

Lewis made his tongue whir like a vibrator. She just lay there, unmoving, but whimpering while the seagulls cried beyond the window and the thirsty hardness in his groin ebbed and flowed like the tide, dripping semen into his briefs.

At length Lewis’s calves cramped from kneeling and the flap of skin under his tongue began to hurt. He slowed down, trying to bring things to a gentle close.

“No!” she gasped. “Don’t stop! Faster!”

And - thanks to the red collar around his throat - he could only obey his wife. All thought of his own pleasure forgotten, he worked on through the pain, lashing her clitoris with his tongue, slashing her juices all over his lips until his whole mouth blazed…

“Keep going!”

Again he could only obey.

The sense of his own helplessness clutched his groin like a mailed fist. His cock passed through a pleasant hardness into a prickling rigidity and—

—Elizabeth gave a long, long sigh and lay still. “Gosh. That was amazing. Come up and…” She half sat up, her hair wild and mussed, a flushed covering her face down to her throat and beyond. She grinned. “I was going to say shag me. But of course you can’t.”

Lewis clambered onto the bed and flopped down beside her. Lust was rippling over his body from the epicentre of his crotch. He wriggled out of his fisherman’s pants and clutched at the featureless bulge between his legs. The nano-plastic was warm to the touch, almost fleshy and tinted to match his skin. But he couldn’t feel anything through it… not yet, at least.

Of course! Since she’d had her orgasm, there was this brief window in which he was allowed his.

“Your ring,” he gasped. “Turn the stone.”

“Oh, of course.” She squirmed around to kneel beside him. Her eyes twinkling, she extended the ring finger of her left hand and reached for it with her right. “Let me see…”

Lewis pressed the tiny slit in the front of the cup. Any moment—

An electric shock went through his genitals. A disembodied voice said, “One Demerit.”

He sat up. “What the…?”

She gave a squeak of laughter and put her hand to her mouth. “I turned it the wrong way—can you forgive me?”

Two demerits left and he’d face a whipping! His cock pulsed and a squirt escape the slit. He really had to come, NOW. “I’ll forgive you if you twist it the other way,” he growled.

“Of course. One… Two… Three..” She made a great performance of turning the ring’s stone in the other direction. “Ta da!”

Nothing.

“I think the demerit cancelled it,” he said.

“Whoops!” She gave another dirty laugh. “Well, I think there’ll be more opportunities, don’t you?” She unfolded her legs, slid off the bed and pulled the dress over her head. “Come on, darling. Can you get the our swimming things?” She reached around to undo her bra. “I want to try the… (damned ancient design)… pool.” The undergarment fell away, leaving the skin of her breasts to glint in the soft light through the window.

Lewis’s cock twitched in its prison. He wanted to grab, grope, fondle, pet… but she’d told him to find the swimming things.

He handed her the bundled bikini top and bottom-

She grinned and reached out, making her breasts joggle in a way that caused a sympathetic squirm in his groin. “Thanks!”

—And he realised she had absolutely no idea that the software in his collar would take almost anything she said as an order.

A dream of Chastity Planet

2011-01-17T06:48:00.000-08:00

Last night I dreamt of Chastity Planet and didn't know I was dreaming...

A very familiar looking English girl – Catherine - urged me out into the poolside. "Come on darling, It'll be fun!"

The sun beat down on my back and I felt everybody's gaze and blushed. Everybody knew my secret! Just being here meant that I'd agreed to having a chastity cup installed around my genitals.

But other men lounged around the pools - I was one among many. This was no private fantasy. This was a real place.

Catherine gave a happy snort of laughter. "This is fantastic! I'll get some drinks. Meet you in the water!"

She hurried off, all bright and brisk and leant on the bar. We'd been together ten years, but I feasted my eyes on her like a new lover.

Less than half an hour before, she'd clawed my back, screamed and grunted as I'd pounded the prosthetic penis into her.

Now, the love making was over, she was relaxed and normal. But part of me was still back up on the room and my groin throbbed and prickled with her every movement.

I kept getting flashes of how she'd looked sprawled on the bed, naked and spent.

I glanced down reflexively. On this planet, nobody could see my arousal through my swimming shorts. Even so, I felt dizzy and exposed.

I jumped down into the nearest pool, a gently bubbling Jacuzzi. The warm water embraced me, all, that is, except my sealed in genitals which felt like an island of dry in all that foaming wet.

"Crimped on at a cellular level," they'd said. I'd not really paid attention back then. Now it was as if I could feel all those nano-spikes rooted in my flesh and it suddenly seemed a that I'd done a terrible thing to myself.

There was a sharp twinge in my groin and a disembodied voice in my head said, "One Demerit".

"You splashed me," said a woman across the bubbling water from me.

I stared at her. She seemed normal, nice even, if a little wilted by the heat. There wasn't even any anger in her voice. But she'd brought me a step nearer a public whipping.

I had a vision of myself, stretched out on the frame, the lash drawing blood from my back. I should say something rude, provoke her, anything to get that whipping...

Except, I realised, I didn't want that whipping. It was one thing to have a secret fantasy, another to be really here.

This was too real.

The Chastity Belt: Cassandra's Double?

2011-01-16T11:56:00.001-08:00

When I wrote the Chastity Belt, I imagined a book called "1930s Ladies" - the kind of thing Taschen were publishing a few years back. Alas, no such book exists.

However, this - courtesy of Vintage Scans - could be a page from it... one of those showing a lady not unlike Cassandra.

The Ultimate Chastity Belt (What the Victorians did for us)

2011-01-14T13:23:00.000-08:00

The Victorians didn't fetishise male chastity, but OMG did they make male chastity belts!

You see the metal parts knocking around museums and of course online (left).

Masturbation, you see, was a bad thin g. Sapped the will and the sanity.

Now the Victorians were great engineers, and not consciously satisfying a fetish. They were designing something for nightly wear, or even 24/7. Even though the wearers hardly consented to the things, they were onanistic youths and lunatics, rather than prisoners.

So the nutjobs forcing the guys into chastity were actually doing it For Their Own Good, and were probably keen to minimize discomfort and avoid health problems...

This means that what we didn't get was something based on the a supposedly Medieval original (Neosteel example, right).

Sure, they look good, but they require tinkering before they feel great, and most wearers will tell you that you have to adapt to the belt, not the other way around.

The problem is the rigidity.

Humans are three dimensional, and when we lose or gain weight, or dimensions change. So, you're simply not going to be able to slap a steel belt on a fiendishly masturbating lunatic without a lot of tinkering. And, if you get it wrong, he gets sores, or gangrene, or gets access to his dick anyway - for example by lying on a hard floor.

Similarly, you can't put this on a sallow youth because he's still growing, or at least filling out. And, presumably, you're expecting him to do healthy activities like physical jerks.

No, not being overt chastity fetishists, the Victorian engineers started off with the idea of preventing access to the genitals, and worked their way out. What they ended up with was lockable underwear like this example from a museum in Prague (left.)

Look at it!

All the design problems have been solved for us (see also the design, right).

The genital shell accommodates the testicles with no chance of using the scrotum to pull out. The buttock chains are adjustable - the hanging straps are adjusted behind shields which become inaccessible when the belt is tightened. The chain is fabric covered to prevent pinching and chafing.

Finally, the girdle itself is adjustable and will bend to fit with the wearer.

--because most of the parts are made of leather!

OK, I don't know whether it's shower proof, but a modern equivalent could easily be made so.

The genital shell rather flaunts the penis - but a cup design would fix that.

The aesthetics are very Steam Punk - perhaps too much so for most fetishists, but it could be done in other colors with modern materials... I've knocked up something myself using polypropylene webbing which does very nicely indeed, and dries quickly after a shower.

Think about it - no modern materials are indestructible. Anything you're going to get a belt made out of will by definition be something that workshop tools can cut. So - fetish aside - why go for more security than "requires tools and conscious effort, and requires breaking the device".

So, if you're on a quest for the ultimate male chastity device, here it is. Now all you have to do is find somebody to make it for you! That will enable you to concentrate on masturbation, just not your own...:)

20% off the Chastity Belt

2011-01-14T03:32:00.001-08:00

Lulu has an offer on.

Designing the world of the New 3rd Sex

2011-01-12T06:45:00.000-08:00

At the moment, people seem split evenly on the question of whether and how chyaste men ejaculate in my third sex stories. What's interesting is that most people either want orgasms through anal sex, or spontaneous ejaculation without orgasm.

Since Chastity Planet already has the possibility of anal sex, my instinct is that chaystes don't get to orgasm; I don't want it to be about needy men pestering women for strapon sex, I want self contained men who pay for wild erotic activity with frustration.

But I'm also tempted by the idea of creating a slave gender. Suppose the alien device lets you orgasm through anal penetration, but only with one person. So, get drunk and seduced into a one night stand, and now there's only one person in the entire world who can make you have an orgasm... you'd have to be pretty careful who you let near you with a dildo.

(Orgasm could simply cause loss of will, but though that makes a great fantasy, it makes for a poor story.)

I suppose it depends on whether the aliens are orgone harvesting, or social engineering. If social engineering, then it's straying into the territory of chastity planet.

Oh to be a chayste slave in this room!

2011-01-12T02:07:00.000-08:00

The impossibilty of full consent in femdom

2011-01-11T03:17:00.001-08:00

My friend Fur Sissy has an interesting post on consent in femdom.

I've written about the paradox of consent before - that strange way in which, even though this is your fantasy, you're not actually in control. Not only are the roles real as long as you stick to them, in voluntary slavery, just like in real slavery, there is a cost to withdrawing consent.

It's this last that possibly raises moral issues.

We are truly enslaved, not by our ostensible slave status, but by the consequences of using a safe word: we are afraid of losing the kinky relationship.

In a vanilla relationship, kink probably means more to us than to her. In a lifestyle relationship, there are far more available bottoms than tops. Supply and demand puts us in a very poor negotiating position. So, just because we are kinky, it's inevitable we'll do things we'd rather not do; things that are non-consensual.

And, of course, there's meta-kink where having our consent violated turns us on, so it's not always clear to us whether we're consenting or not!

I've come to think of this real power imbalance as a good thing. I like being a slave.

However, I can see that a dom might have qualms at never knowing whether a sub is actually consenting to something, or will give his retrospective consent once he's come down.

I think the answer is just to accept that you're playing with evil. The only limits consistent with such are came are...

To ensure you can keep playing at evil: A very short laundry list of things that would boost you out of slave role - in my case, cross-dressing, and human waste would simply switch me off.
To limit the impact of the evil: Firm boundaries to do with real life consequences, for example, "No harm done to health or body, social or professional identity, no risky games"

Beyond that, if you have a bad time, or the play goes places that you don't like or leave you feeling icky; Tough.

That's the nature of the game you're playing. Just like sportsmen, sometimes things won't go your way. You can always amend the laundry list after the event.

Polls...

2011-01-09T06:15:00.000-08:00

I've reopened the Chastity Belt poll, since I've picked up some new readers.

I'm also curious about where I should go with what I'm starting to think of as my Third Sex stories, so I've added a poll for that.

I write and share my erotica for the interaction. So if you want to see more, please let me know what and why in the comments...

So do chayste men get to come? (You tell me...)

2011-01-07T15:28:00.000-08:00

The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of 5% of young men just randomly waking up with mysterious alien chastity belts nano-welded to their crotches - suddenly we have a true third sex; biological males with no access to their genitals.

But, do they get to have orgasms through anal stimulation?

Which is more interesting? Straight guys forced to seek out dildo sex, or with utterly no chance of any release except a bit of leakage? Or perhaps not even that.

What do you think?

Why most healthy relationships have a potential BDSM dynamic...

2010-12-22T15:35:00.000-08:00

As promised in an earlier post, here's why I think most healthy relationships have a potential kinky dynamic, which I fall a Shadow Relationship:

a spot where your darkside overlaps hers. You're both acting spontaneously without a script, enjoying your roles for their own sake. Anything that happens is authentic, because it's what you'd both do if your roles were real. The relationship is a shadow one, but still an actual relationship.

If Robin Skynner, author of Families and How to Survive Them, is right, then we tend to share issues with our partners. He calls this the Shop Window Theory (no googleable reference - you'll have to go and buy the book...)

In short, when courting, we tend to try to escape our issues by putting the opposite in our "shop window". For example, if I have a problem with anger, then my shop window oozes with the calm I intuit will attract a living saint.

The snag of course is that she'll also have a shop window. If it's oozing with tranquility, then perhaps she too has a problem with anger; it's like two con-artists marrying each other for money!

So, the relationship can take two broad paths: the functional, in which we both help each other deal with our anger issues; and the dysfunctional - the fucked up - where we repress each other, or boil over into mental or physical abuse, or both.

Now - be honest - much of our kink is driven by our issues, and most of the kinky action, shorn of the context of consent and the trappings of BDSM, looks pretty damn abusive (and is often mistaken as such by outsiders).

So, based on my own experience, and that of others, I have a strong suspicion that the optimal BDSM mode of your relationship is just an eroticised version of the dysfunctional relationship you could have had; the Shadow Relationship.

If that's true, if you're drawn to one BDSM role, then, potentially, she may be more than comfortable with its counterpart.

Note, however, that I'm talking about roles and relationships, here.

Things you fantasise about because they scare you, probably don't represent a viable shadow relationship, because they go against your basic nature. You wouldn't expect your partner to share your love of extreme sports either (though she might).

S&M acts and rituals on their own - floggings and spankings - don't count either. Nothing wrong with them, but they're the BDSM equivalent of a blow job.

There's also a lot of mundane crap that can get in the way. Possibly the particular form of your fantasy puts her off, or your coping strategy. However, I think it's easy to forget the other barriers to play, including self consciousness, cultural imperatives against eroticism, emotional fragility, and plain old fatigue.

And you can screw it up yourself in so many ways....

Femdom reciprocity in a nutshell

2010-12-14T03:00:00.000-08:00

Femdom play has reciprocity as long as she enjoys using the power. If she enjoys wielding the power as well, that's a bonus. She doesn't have to care about your experience.

(If she's "service topping" - doing it for your sake - then the play is not reciprocal, but may fit into a nicely reciprocal erotic relationship where you do other things for her at other times.)

Chastity Planet - Work In Progress

2010-12-13T04:02:00.000-08:00

(Since 60% of you seem to prefer my Chastity Planet setting, I've started on a full length erotic novel set on that world. Here's a bit from first draft of the first chapter...)

Despite the tropical heat, a shiver ran down Robin’s spine and into his chastity cup.

The doorwoman had cropped white-blond hair and a build like an athlete’s under her tight black crop top. Across her small breasts, friendly pink letters spelling out, “My name is Ute. How may I be of service?” However, the long laser scar running diagonally over her face screamed “veteran”. Ute - if that was her real name - could probably snap Robin in two without so much as breaking a sweat on her muscular limbs. And she was leering down at him.

Robin forced himself to keep climbing the steps.

The sky lit up, casting a white glare into the narrow street, illuminating the two naked men strapped to the posts holding up the entrance canopy - naked that is, except for lipstick-red collars and chastity cups.

Hard on the heels of the glare came the crackling roar of a shuttle climbing up from New Athens Space Port to one of the orbital stations.

Robin froze. The sensible thing would be to get on the next ferry. He might still be stuck in the chastity cup, but at least he had rights back at the University.

Behind him, a cab whirred to a halt. Giggling girls filed up the steps, all tanned legs and bare buttocks glimpsed under the hems of spangled mini-dresses. As they passed the captives, each tweaked a nipple or drew a backhanded stroke across a bare chest or thigh, leaving the men writhing against their bonds as if dancing to the thud-thud music leaking from the misty strobe-lit interior. Linda was somewhere in there.

Robin took mounted the next step. As he reached the top, the doors swung shut, muting the dance music.

Ute treated him to another leer. Without breaking eye contact, she reached under her leather skirt, giving him a glimpse of stringy thighs and white pubic hair, made hooking action, then held her glistening fingers in front of the face of one of the captives.

The bound man whimpered, extended his tongue, and strained to reach her digits.

She let the bound man fasten his mouth around her fingers. He sucked crazily, and fluid started to leak from the front of his chastity cup. “Free entry to neuters.”

Will shook his head.

Ute grinned, not a reassuring sight. “Don’t worry….” She reached out to the other man, pulled his nipple and twisted, setting off a frantic whimpering and writhing. “…You won’t end up like these two wimps.”

“Really?”

“These bondsmen belong to Miss Lang. She’s just getting them nice and horny so they’ll go find themselves girlfriends.”

Bondsmen. That explained the red collar and cup, unlike his mat-black set. “Why would she want to get rid of her… property?”

“The girls always end up buying their bond.” The bouncer withdrew in her hands and swung the door open. “So, are you going in? Or—” She looked him up and down. “—do you want to know what time I get off?”

Robin whimpered and fled toward the threshold.

As he passed her, she pinched his bottom.

“Hey!” he began. Then the pain set of an echo of pleasure in his captive groin. He blushed and stumbled inside. He didn’t feel neuter . Not a moment went by when he wasn’t aware of his cock and balls trapped behind the nano-plastic mask. Would dating Linda would make things better? He frowned. It was hard to think these days, except in class—even in class, surrounded by all those beautiful unfuckable girls…

And there they were, over by the bar on the raised area at the other side of the dance floor: Cordelia, bushy black hair and as tall as the Ute, but willowy rather than muscle-bound. Next to her, as if hiding in the taller girl’s shadow, the angelic blond Linda sat with hunched shoulders, flashing her front teeth like a nervous rabbit. A craggy looking man perhaps five years older than Robin was craning his neck to speak to the tall girl. He lent closer to Cordelia and touched her bare arm. She shook her head firmly, making her frizzy hair fan out, and tapped her signet ring meaningfully.

The man shrugged, and stepped back from the bar, suddenly looking small before Cordelia’s towering presence. As if nothing had happened, the tall girl resumed a conversation with the woman in the next seat.

Robin grinned. He’d heard there was nothing like the threat of a demerit to bring a man down to size. Of course, now he’d left the safety of New Athens, he was subject to the same threat.

The stud reappeared next to the bar and slid onto a bar stool next to Linda. He said something and the blond blushed to the roots of her hair. She put her hand to her mouth.

Robin set his jaw and started across the dance floor. It was hard to believe there were so many men. He didn’t know what all the collars meant, but each guy’s lower clothing would conceal a bio-plastic chastity cup. Were they all like him, going crazy with pent up lust?

And the girls were crazy - dancing like harlots, rubbing groins and backsides on with wide eyed men, dancing with kick steps that made their short skirts flap and reveal bare thighs and buttocks. This was not a place where women bothered with panties when they went out. He really had to rescue Linda.

“Robin!” A plump girl with rather too many curves escaping from a wrap-round corset blocked his path.

“Hi Julia.” He made to slide past her.

She gave him a fleshy smile. “Dance with us.”

Stacy and Cat appeared behind her, making up what Robin’s classmates called the Three Witches - not that the trio of plump girls had ever been anything but nice to him.

Robin gave an apologetic smile. “I can’t,” he said over the sound of the music. “I need to get to the bar.”

Julia pouted and the three girls crowded round, chorusing, “Dance with us!” Hips and breasts undulated against him. The sensation bypassed his brain and went straight to his chastity cup, which tightened around his penis like a vise.

The rhythm of the girls enveloped him and he swayed on the spot.

Julia wiggled in front of him. His gaze plummeted into her cleavage.

She laughed, put her hot arms around him and drew his face down to hers. Her mouth opened with a scrape of teeth against his lips and her tongue shoved its way into his mouth setting off a pressure wave that made his penis inflate and try to rear its way out of its prison.

Robin stooped and put his arms around her waist. The flesh was sticky with perspiration and as yielding as dough. His hips twitched reflectively and he grasped her ample backside and slid his own tongue past hers to taste the sweet alcohol suffusing her mouth.

A flash of blond in the corner of his eye made him pull back.

The stud was leading Linda by the hand toward the door.

Robin pushed free. “Sorry. I have to go after Linda.”

Julia scowled. “You fucking prick.” She pointed a chubby index finger at him and twisted her signet ring.

A little electric shock went through Robin’s chastity cup. A voice in his head calmly announced, “One demerit.”

His hands dropped to his groin. “You bitch!”

She slapped his face. “Let him have it girls.”

Stacy and Cat pointed their fingers.

Robin’s heart pounded. “No! Three demerits means a public whipping.”

Cat grinned. “We know.”

“We’ll come and watch,” Stacy added.

They both twisted.

The voice disembodied voice said, “Mobbing is not permitted. If you are in distress, please seek help from a police officer.”

“Ha!” said Robin. He put his hand to his smarting cheek and looked for Linda. She was gone.

He staggered back to the exit and blundered into the Ute the bouncer.

“Steady on there boy,” she said, steadying him with both shoulders. “You drunk?”

He shook his head. “Got to save a girl.”

The bouncer laughed. “What from? This is the safest girls night out in the galaxy. No cocks and all the men fitted with violence inhibitors.”

Tom’s shoulder’s slumped and his stomach seemed to fill with butterflies. She was right. There was nothing to stop Linda doing anything she wanted. This world and everything on it belonged to women.

“It’s not so bad,” said the bouncer. “Say - I'm just about to get off.” Her grip shifted to his waist, then her iron hard fingers dug into his buttocks. “Since you’re so sober, why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”

The Vanilla Dominatrix

2010-12-06T02:23:00.000-08:00

I've always craved real female domination.

I remember, at 21, meeting a girl with ME, and being darkly excited by the thought that she'd need constant looking after. I didn't get her, but I did get a parade of mentally fragile girlfriends.

On some level I wanted my life to empty and another person's to pour in.

And, my first girlfriend - was I 16? - was a true psycho chick, lashing out with verbal and physical abuse. Even as I gradually discovered and accepted my fantasies, I still blundered around the spectrum of abusive relationships, being bossed around, verbally abused, slapped and punched.

None of all this made me very happy. A big chunk of me is not consumed by erotic darkness, and the particular darkness I did crave was never fully satisfied by fucked-up relationships... The fragile girls wanted a manly man to pwotect them, so it was like a race to the bottom. The bossy ice queens and psycho chicks were dysfunctional in the bedroom, but only in boring ways.

The take home is; you can't and shouldn't use unwitting broken people to satisfy your kinks.

Playing at femdom was never really satisfying either. Most people aren't natural actors, and even if they do get into role, it's hard not to be aware of the Russian Doll paradox - while you're ostensibly controlled by her, she's really being controlled by your fantasies. Worse, you miss the unfakable emotions, and the real edge of fear that comes from being in somebody else's power.

It took a long time - way too long - to realise the third option, what I think of as Authentic BDSM.

Just be yourselves. No play acting, no script, no expectations or shopping lists. You only have to pretend two things:

Her power is real, and it's OK for her to enjoy and exploit it.

Her power is real...
It's surprisingly easy to pretend the power is real. Most real world power we encounter isn't backed up by the immediate threat of overwhelming force. We grow up obeying teachers, professors, and bosses. Humans are naturally hierarchical. As long as you never do anything to break her authority during a session, you'll both start to believe in it.

...it's OK for her to enjoy and exploit it
Scarily, if you can establish the power, and give her permission and reassurance - without too much direction - then this naturally follows, especially because there are lots of non-kinky things for her to enjoy about being in charge.

Of course, this means you get a Vanilla Dominatrix.

Unless she's as obsessively kinky as you - statistically unlikely (Sorry!) - she won't start dressing up in uncomfortable PVC and latex. She probably won't be excited by your new chastity device, and she's unlikely to spend time devising new and cunning punishments, unless she already has a playful and mischievous bent.

What you do get is the dark thrill of really giving yourself to a real woman.

Femdom as shark cage (women are scary without the whips)

2010-11-24T01:41:00.000-08:00

Women having a good time together are scary (left).

They don't need whips, or fetish wear. You know if you approached them, they'd mock you until you fled.

And yet, women are painfully desirable when they're splashing in a bath of shared femininity.

A woman wrapped in privacy is scary in a different way (right).

You don't know how she'll react if you interrupt her, but you can bet that the tranquility will erupt into something less pleasant.

And yet, there is something alluring about her in her unguarded moments.

Finally, a commanding, well-dressed woman is scary because she makes you seem so inadequate in comparison. You would feel like a fool approaching her.

But, my god she looks good!

What if your fears were misplaced? What if you can enter the picture without getting mauled?

Then the magic drains away. The crowd of women stop joking with each other and turn their charms on you. The sultry bookworm stops being self-contained and wants a snog. The vampy clothes horse gets her hair mussed.

One way or another, there's no place for a man in any of these pictures.

There is, however - at least in fantasy - a place for a slave....

The Glass Chastity Belt

2010-11-22T02:11:00.000-08:00

The vacuum cleaner from Hell howled.

Julia groaned, untangled herself from the sticky sheet and sat up. She glared at the open window. The oppressively hot nights wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for that damn woman’s workshop waking them every morning.

“I suppose we’d better have breakfast,” she said, but found she was speaking to an empty bed.
Conrad had gone.

Julia set her jaw and mechanically set about tidying the room. She tried not to be angry, but as she tugged the sheet flat, she remembered Conrad stretched out on the bed. “I gave you an orgasm. What more do you want?”

She even had him tied up the way he liked. How long had she pumped away at his leaking penis? And for what? Half and hour of him complaining she wasn’t doing it right, then a few seconds of repulsive squirting.

She kicked Carl’s rucksack under the bed. Now there was no trace of him. Julia started to cry.
“I can’t go on like this.”

The machine stopped. Conrad’s voice drifted up from the courtyard, then Madame Etienne’s laughter. Their landlady was twice Conrad’s age, but she had a certain magnetism

“Damn.” Julia hated herself for being jealous, even as she ditched her T-shirt, and pulled on her summer dress and Birkenstocks. She glanced at herself in the mirror of the battered wardrobe. She would do for now.

She hurried out into the scalding sunshine and looked around for Conrad.

The voices came from the beyond the arched door of the converted stables – Madame Etienne’s workshop.

Julia stood in the door way and waited for her eyes to adjust to the shady interior. Conrad had his back to her. His tasty olive skin seemed to glisten slightly. His bare arms were leanly muscled. The walls of the workshop were bedecked with glass penises and all sorts of odd looking devices, including shackles. She gasped.

Madame Etienne noticed her. “Ah, Mademoiselle. You have come to see my work.”

Conrad turned. “Madame manufactures adult toys in glass.”

He had that guilty little boy look. Of course, this must be like an Aladdin’s Cave to him, and yet he knew she couldn’t share his excitement.

Julia felt herself colour. Damn him, she thought. He had no right to expect anything.

Concern flashed across Conrad’s face. “We had better have breakfast,” he said. “It’s been a pleasure Madame…”

Now Julia felt guilty. “Wait,” she said.

Madame turned to her, expectant.

Julia glanced around, looking for something, anything, she could ask about. Her gaze fell on a strange looking device, a glass girdle with a banana-shaped cage in the front. At least it didn’t look as if it were for penetrating anything. “What’s that?”

Madame raised an eyebrow. “Une ceinture de chastity pour l’homme – a man’s chastity belt.”

“For a man?” She’d read about chastity belts for ladies. But not this.

“Mais ouis!” Madame took it down off the wall. “The bullet-proof glass is comfortable, hygienic, and can pass through any metal detector. My chastity belt…” she drew herself up. “Can be worn indefinitely.”

Something fluttered in the pit of Julia’s stomach. She examined the device. The cage would fit tightly over a man’s penis keeping it pointing down, muting its unspoken demands. A deliciously icy sensation teased her spine, as if she stood on the edge of the highest diving board. She shivered, despite the heat. More than anything else in the world, she needed to take the plunge… see where this might lead.

Conrad was watching her intently, an obvious bump in the front of his shorts. He licked his lips. “Isn’t it dangerous? The glass?”

“No,” said Madame. “It is bullet proof. You can break yourself, but not it.”

“Let’s have one,” said Julia. “Don’t you think, sweetheart?”

Conrad shook his head. “Why? What good would it be?”

You fantasise about being my slave, thought Julia. But, you are the only one who ever has an orgasm.

“Because I want one,” she said. She took a deep breath and gathered up all her strength. “It turns me on.”

Conrad’s eyes widened. “Pardon?”

“It turns me on,” she said, louder. “You keep nagging me to tell you what turns me on. Well, this does.” She held handed him the chastity belt. “Turn me on. A lot. It…”

Madame Etienne grinned at her.

Now she’d said it, it was as if she couldn’t stop. Cheeks burning, Julia clamped her hand to her mouth.

Conrad stared at her. Slowly, he nodded. “OK.”

“How much is it, please?” asked Julia.

Madame grimaced. “Three thousand euros.” She shrugged.

Julia pursed her lips. She struggled to think of some way they could cobble together the money, but the more she considered their finances, the more the idea faded.

“We are students, I’m afraid,” she said and felt empty.

Madame looked from Julia to Conrad, then seemed to size him up. “And prettier than my normal middle aged clients. Suppose…” She turned back to Julia. “If I fitted him with a device, would you both pose for my catalogue?”

“I…” Conrad stammered. He hunched his shoulders. “People might recognise us.”

“None-sense,” said Madame. “Not with your faces obscured.”

Conrad turned to Julia, pleading in his eyes. “I can’t.”

Julia glanced at the device and imagined the cage wrapped around Conrad’s hungry penis. She felt a wet throb between her legs. “I’ll pose with you… naked,” she said, and realised she meant it. “Wouldn’t you like a picture of me like that?”

Conrad whimpered.

“He agrees,” said Julia.

"The Chastity Belt"

2010-11-21T06:28:00.000-08:00

I've bumped up my prices for The Chastity Belt to reflect how many beers you owe me if you read it; the download now costs a single pint of beer, which I think is fair given that's what you'd buy me if we knew each other and I emailed you the story; and the printed book costs two pints, which is what you'd ply me with if I printed and bound it for you....

Morning in Aqua Sulis

2010-11-17T05:04:00.000-08:00

I wake to her hot tears splashing the cold skin of my back.

"Oh you poor thing," says Cordelia. "I'm such a wicked, wicked person." She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. "I should never have let you make love to me."

I twist in my chains and feel bare smooth bare flesh on brush my flanks. My owner kneels on the straw next to what's left of my stale bread and water, and she's naked. The cool air of my cell makes her nipples stand out.

I feel a hopeless tightness inside the chastity belt, but I don't feel any less naked than my mistress - after all these years, the steel device is part of me.

"You must be so very cold and lonely down here."

I nod and feel my own tears well up and trickle down my cheeks. I could ask her to let me return to serving her, but last time I pleaded, she extended my punishment by another month and sent her handmaidens to beat me-

-Of course, it's not really punishment.

A month ago, she let me service her with the dildo. More than that, she kissed me, clawed my back and - as I pounded into her, feeling nothing in my lost cock - I poured out my feelings, told her I loved her. She smiled back at me between her cries of orgasm...

..so, yes, we did make love, and afterwards, as I lay next to her, my chastity belt beating like a second heart, she summoned her handmaids to escort me down to the cell.

Because it was that or sell me. A Roman lady must preserve her emotional distance from her slaves.

Cordelia stoops closer and her warmth bathes my skin. "I miss you," she whispers.

With a rattle of chains, I strain up and kiss her on the lips.

Her tongue dips into my mouth. Then she pulls back, "You realise the price?"

I nod.

She turns her head, making her breasts quiver, and addresses the girl who hovers in the doorway. "Octavia - bring over the dildo and the scourge."

I flinch. "The whip?"

"Yes my love. If I lash you myself, then I don't need to keep you down here." She drops into a pouting, babying voice. "You do understand, don't you sweety?"

I nod and she slots the prosthetic penis into the front of my chastity girdle.

Morning on Chastity Planet

2010-11-10T05:38:00.000-08:00

The bedroom stinks of animal sex - of tongue-lashed pussy juice and feminine sweat shed from sleek skin, all going stale on warm sheets.

The throb in my blank groin grows more urgent, but this is the life I signed away my penis for.

I can only stand there by the bed, coffee-tray in hand, and wait.

Vintage Scans

2010-10-17T14:14:00.000-07:00

If you like retro erotica, don't miss Vintage Scans...

Clippings...

2010-10-12T06:18:00.001-07:00

Hellooooo 69!

2010-09-29T14:58:00.000-07:00

So, I reached 69 "followers"! Hi guys!

If we haven't chatted, do drop into the comments thread and say hello back...

Response to Fur Sissy

2010-09-23T01:44:00.000-07:00

Fur Sissy very kindly responded in detail to my posts on femdom relationships. Since he posted in the public comments, I think it's OK for me to use a full post to respond:

....While the breakdown of engaged and disengaged works on a fairly observational level of D/s interactions, the conflict caused by attempting to shift between positions has a few assumptions already made about the style of relationship. Namely, it seems to encompass either a relationship that began vanilla and evolved towards D/s undertones either willingly or unwillingly, a relationship that began vanilla and became D/s through pressure from the male, or a relationship with a foundation in D/s but without full agreement by one involved party.

The assumption is that relationship is primarily vanilla, and that the male sub is driving the femdom action by acting as "local guide". The lady top is open to play, but wouldn't identify as a fetishist, and has thought about it a lot less than her male partner. She may also be insecure or provisional in her role.

In your post "Getting the femdom action and trappings and still being "authentic"" you made the statement "The best way to experience your femdom fantasy is to find a spot where your darkside overlaps hers." and I agree 100% with this statement. In the BDSM scene this is generally a necessity for a fulfilling long-term romantic relationship to develop and you will find parties that consider the overlap first and foremost when evaluating partners. The courting process is much more difficult for submissive men seeking dominant women than any other demographic in the BDSM realm.

No shit!

However, I don't think its quite as bad as it could be. Our darksides reflect aspects of our light side personalities – there's this thing called Shop Window theory – so if you are really emotionally compatible with somebody, then there's a good chance of a lot of overlap. Hence my idea of the "Shadow Relationship".

I do think that many pre-negotiated D/s relationships end up in the "only one fully willing participant" scenario since men are usually the ones forced to compromise the most in these situations and they are likely to be placed in situations that stray far from their primary fetish fantasies.

Yes. Or at least a man's fantasies are likely to be more diverse than he can find reflected in any one woman. Also, a particular fetish may be a turn-off for the partner, even though the dynamic behind it is not an issue, e.g. she may be very happy to punish him, but not by forcing him to crossdress.

However, if both individuals have a nearly perfect fetish overlap, there are situations that can steer clear of said conflicts, unless the nature of those conflicts is also part of the overlap, e.g. a man who has a fetish for her withholding pleasurable situations from him. I can also foresee situations that will behave the same simply by having an extremely strict Mistress.

A very useful point! Some fetishes can be a by-product of lots of different types of relationship. If it's the "witholding" you enjoy, you can get that from almost any of the intimacy dynamics: EE & ED - she enjoys your frustration, DE & DD – she is completely indifferent to your frustration.

....Women are generally more likely to be honest with themselves about their own sexual desires (which is why they are less likely to develop "fetishes" in their most scientific definition). They are also often more willing to explore and initiate "kinky" sexual content. It does strike me as odd that even with this in mind there are so few Dominant Women out there but at the same time, I think that upbringing and societal norms have a bit to do with that. There's tons of women who are aggressive tops in the bedroom, but very few that classify themselves as Dommes.

I think your last sentence hits at the answer; sexually active women can do pretty much what they want. If they enjoy tease and denial, then they become appalling flirts. If they enjoy topping in the bedroom, they just take control of the drooling and grateful male. If they want to lie back and be served, they don't even have to ask. The experimentation fits into this context.

All this is very exciting for the participants, but not necessarily sustainable in a healthy long term relationship. The kind of BDSM I'm talking about is in part an attempt to create a reservation for all this bad female behaviour so it can continue to flourish in the shadows.

Going back to the other themes of these posts... a wild card comes to mind when it comes to D/s relationships. That wild card is "true love." True love describes situations where a party is a willing participant in activities they do not enjoy simply out of love for the other (this could be performed by either role). These situations can often steer clear of the conflicts you described.

I would theorise that "true love" always involves a lot of overlap in the darkside. There are still hazards if she is less familiar with the fetish world than he is. Also, both parties tend to be willing to play slightly more scripted roles – nothing wrong with that, it's just that I'm talking about how to establish spontaneous play.

In terms of pre-negotiated relationships, a lot of the potential source of conflicts can probably be traced towards the background of the Domme. If she is active in the BDSM scene she will likely have a very different view of things compared to a hardcore female supremacist. The BDSM scene Domme is much more likely to dole out enjoyable fetish interactions in a "fair" manner whereas the female supremacist is more likely to disregard his desires.

I can't pretend to speak with any direct knowledge of the fetish scene. I suspect that my intimacy map still applies, but that the waters are muddied by an extra layer of negotiation and tradeoffs.

However, I think part of what you're talking about relates to coping strategies. The female supremacist and the fantasist both have different and incompatible justifications for BDSM.

In regards to my own experiences I have been in 4 D/s relationships, 3 of which were pre-negotiated and the fourth was instigated by the Domme after beginning as a vanilla relationship. Each was a bit different, the first really flowing along with true love and non-fetish personality conflicts leading to its breakdown. One simply failed to connect deeply on both a fetish and personal level. One connected nearly perfectly on a fetish level but failed on a personal level. My current relationship has a partial overlap in fetishes and several personality conflicts. Overall our true conflicts rarely arose from lack of overlap in the fetish department but those relationships also weren't bound by marriage, legal bondage, etc.

Thanks for sharing this. These all seem to fit the pattern...

Chastity Planet: The toy boy

2010-09-22T06:40:00.000-07:00

She bought me presents, slipped me money, and I trailed after her around the shops, then later went to work with tongue and fingertip. Inside its cup, my lost penis went wild.

I am - was - a Free Neuter. We can come and go as we please, and even hold down a job. However, everybody assumes we're always in a horny daze, so mostly we get positions requiring eye candy only; receptionist, waiter, that kind of thing. The wages are poor, but the tips are good.

If you're lucky, you can pick up a rich "girlfriend", and that's what I did.

It went OK at first. She's was older than me, and not my type. But as the weeks turned to months, as her orgasms piled up, and mine receded into memory, I started wanting her.

Tonight was supposed to be our last night together. I had a flight in the morning.

What went wrong?

After I licked her off, I pleaded; "Let me use the prosthetic!"

She laughed. "What kind of girl do you think I am? You're leaving forever. "

So I gave myself to her. Extended my contract by another frustrating year and made myself her slave.

"That's sweet," she said. "Wake me when its time for the restaurant." And with that she drifted off to sleep.

Getting the femdom action and trappings and still being "authentic"

2010-09-08T05:41:00.000-07:00

The best way to experience your femdom fantasy is to find a spot where your darkside overlaps hers. You're both acting spontaneously without a script, enjoying your roles for their own sake. Anything that happens is authentic, because it's what you'd both do if your roles were real. The relationship is a shadow one, but still an actual relationship.

The problem is, how do you get all the other stuff? The props, the clothes, the words, the punishments...?

Some of these aren't trivial. Perhaps they're what the fantasy is really about for you, or perhaps they're part of your way of coping with the inherent contradictions of asking another person to treat you evilly. You can't just discard them. However, anything that smacks of scripts or shopping lists bumps one or both of you out of role.

Some femdom intimacy dynamics lend themselves to all this. If she's engaged with you (EE and ED), then she wants to get into your head. Corsets and bondage follow naturally from this.

It's harder if she's disengaged (DE, DD). She's not supposed to care about what you're thinking or feeling, so why, e.g., should she dress in a certain way, or punish you more than is "necessary"?

Since it's the hardest, I'm going to take the Disengaged-Disengaged dynamic as an example.

She doesn't care what you think, just what you do. You're not expected to second guess her or try to get inside her head. You can just "relax" and follow instructions. Typically, you are slave and owner. Let's take that further and drop you into the world of Whips and Stockingtops – femdom flappers and chaste male slaves.

Think about the components of the W&ST fantasy that go beyond the power relationship and "DD" intimacy dynamic:
World: Clothes, attitude and the other trappings

If she's not wearing stockings, it's not Whips and Stockingtops! Other retro gear helps, as long as it's comfortable; silky slips and glamorous nightwear. A male chastity device is also mandatory. Any music should be classical or pre-war Jazz.

All this stuff is part of the fantasy world, but none of it follows from the power or intimacy dynamics. Your girlfriend might dress to please you, but your owner doesn't dress to please her slave. His penis is irrelevant, so why bother to cage it? (Similarly, your fantasy mistress might be a feast of leather and PVC, all hard to get into and not always comfortable.)

The only way to approach this is from the outside, as a prerequisite for crossing the border into the darkside. It's simply what people wear. The same goes for any etiquette or attitude.

Prioritise. Don't ask for too much at one go. Start with whatever's easiest and simplest for her. There's a good chance she'll find dressing up empowering or escapist – but you have to let her discover that for herself.

Drama: Action generated by testing or affirming the intimacy dynamic

Drama is the stuff of fantasy and erotic fiction. However, it's hard to get right in play.

Testing
If you start groaning because you're turned on, she'll beat you and tell you to shut up. This little drama plays out because you've tried to force her to engage with you, dragging the intimacy dynamic up into ED (see illustration). Inadvertently or not, you've "tested" her.

Testing is best done spontaneously, in role. There may be moments when you are bored or turned on or in some other unbearable state and you end up testing the boundaries – especially true if, unlike me, you are contrary or bratty.

There are, however, problems with testing. First and foremost, testing the intimacy dynamic also means testing the power dynamic. She may be sceptical of your ability to follow through with your fantasy, unsure of her power, or teetering on the brink of self consciousness. Or she may envisage her power as total, and find challenges to it irritating to the point where they bump her out of her role and back to lightside reality.

Secondly, when you test the intimacy dynamic, you may take her places that are not on her darkside map. Perhaps she can only treat you as a slave as long as she doesn't engage with you.

So, go carefully with testing. Treat her power over you as real. If you feel the need to consciously create drama, do so with care and sensitivity. Be aware of the difference between darkside anger and lightside irritation...

Affirmation
Sometimes she may violate the dynamic by teasing you until you're drooling and dripping, then setting you back to work. She's "affirmed" her position. (This is different from the teasing and denial you get in EE and ED since she's only interested in luring you out enough to push you back in.)

It's probably best to go along with any affirmation she initiates– try not to ham it up!

If it takes you to uncomfortable places, tell her much much later.

The one thing you have to watch out for is her dropping into scripted behaviour borrowed from some femdom stereotype or other. Later on, tell her that she really doesn't have to play act for you – you don't want a service top, you want a genuine mistress.

Punishment: Action resulting from the femdom relationship

She's the mistress, you're the slave. From time to time, she'll have good reason to punish you physically, or by humiliation or verbal abuse. In theory, this should be simple as long as you've agreed the mechanics, the limits and the safety – of course. However, it's more complicated than it seems.

NB: In a DD dynamic like W&ST, punishment should involve as little effort for her as possible. A demerit system or clicker counter can enable her to postpone punishment until it suits her.

Routine
You spill the wine, she makes you clear it up then beats you.

If this doesn't seem to be working, wait until later and explain that though punishment is a gratifying part of your fantasy, it's something you instinctively fear and avoid; she really can improve your servile performance by punishing you. Get her to treat all mistakes on your part in role, in return you promise never to deliberately seek punishment.

The big snag with this one is that you probably very rarely make mistakes. Increased strictness on her part can only go so far.

Sought (Don't do this!)
You deliberately trigger punishment by making mistakes. It seems like a great idea in theory. In practice it has two disadvantages. She may dislike being manipulated and fall out of role. Worse, every mistake you make will seem deliberate. If you wreck her carpet, she'll think you did it in the hope of getting a beating! End of femdom relationship...

Set up
If you're very lucky, she may enjoy setting you up to fail so she can then beat you. Enjoy!

Procedural
Punishments resulting from the rules of your particular darkside world. For example, it may be good slave keeping practice to prevent you getting uppity by beating you immediately after – or before – you've given oral service. In other words, you're trading lickings for beatings.

This is probably the best way to ensure that your sessions include some punishment. Make the rules as consistent with your roles as possible. Avoid straying into scripting. Accept that sometimes, she won't bother....

Summing up

"You can go to the ball!"

You can enjoy your fantasy action and trappings – within reason – in an authentic femdom shadow relationship, not by scripting, but by agreeing the culture and rules of your shared world.

Chayste at the wedding

2010-09-06T09:13:00.001-07:00

It was one of those Scottish weddings where the girls kick off their elegant shoes and dance barefoot. Nobody asked me about my marriage prospects – the alien red gem growing out of my palm saw to that.

I don't know what's more embarrassing; when the thing's unlit, indicating that you've been a good boy and supplied lots of orgone energy for those little green men, or glowing hot-coal red, screaming out to the world that you've got no sex drive and that the crystal and groin-cup are about to drop off and fasten on some other poor sucker.

Actually, I do have a sex drive. However, up to that night, I'd been living like a monk – a Buddhist monk – doing yoga, meditating, working on maths puzzles... anything to take my mind of sex, to keep that chastity device loose around my lost penis.

I was doing so well, I could read at night by the light of the complaining gemstone. Another few days and I would get my genitals back.

But, when an old flame invites you to her wedding, it's hard to say no. And, what could go wrong? A load of old wrinklies prancing around in tartan?

Younger than me, just starting college. Long hair, bare feet and legs, and a stretchy black dress that clung to her hourglass figure as if it had been drawn on by a cartoonist.

There was no way I couldn't notice her, but I kept to the dances where you swapped partner with each verse, so between moments whirling her around on my arm and trying not to look at those smooth, curvy legs, I was spinning other people's grannies.

But then came the lady's choice and she pranced up to me and – with a sweet smile - offered her arm. As we danced, her breasts were always there, jostling my elbow, crushed into my chest, or just jouncing as she kicked and stepped and my chastity belt throbbed in time, not to the music, but to her flesh.

Somewhere, a flying saucer was feeding off my frustration, and then gem in my palm glowed slightly less.

We danced every dance until, around midnight, somebody called last orders at the bar. She beckoned me off through a side door. I followed, mesmerised by the swing of her hips, through the panelled corridors of the hotel, up a staircase lined with hunting pictures, and into her room.

I checked at the threshold, but she just stuck her tongue down my throat and shoved the door shut. Holding the kiss, she all but sucked me over to the bed.

Did she know I was chayste? Had she seen the gem?

She flopped back and a gentle shove pushed my head between her knees. Without a word, she swung those bare legs over my shoulders and parted her thighs so that the stretchy dress furled up onto her hips.

Yes. She knew.

There were no panties under there, just a forest of curls and wet lips. Penis prickling with the effort to fight its way erect, I dove between her soft thighs and licked like dog. Her clitoris rose beneath my tongue and I lapped faster and faster.

As the salty juices collected on my tongue, her thighs clamped against my ears and she began to pant.

Between my legs, a wet pressure built up as if could share her orgasm.

And then she pushed me away and wriggled up the bed.

I stood and my head whirled – all the blood was in my groin – and I scrabbled for something to say.

"You can go now," she said, her voice sweet and Scottish, and pulled up a pillow.

She didn't even look at me as I left the room, her taste still on my lips. If she had, she'd have seen the damp patch appear on my hired formal trousers.

As I walked out into the night, her only words to me echoed through my mind: "You can go now."

With each step into the darkness, the hardness in my groin returned, and the telltale gem glowed less faintly.

The Chastity Belt: Olivia

2010-09-06T05:41:00.001-07:00

So, some of you would rather fancy ending up as Olivia's chaste lover.

Very much posh totty meets angry little rich girl, she wants to be wanted by men, but hates them for using her. In the Chastity Belt story, she sets out to make Mark's life a misery by prostituting him to her friends.

In a relationship, I think she'd be different. With you locked into a chastity belt, there'd be no chance of you using her, so she'd have nothing to get angry about. Instead, she'd open up and show her vulnerable side.

Expect lots of wild sex using the prosthetic, with cuddles afterwards.... her sweaty, dozy, body draped over yours while you lie there, your chastity belt throbbing like a second heart.

Maybe, once in a while, she turns on you. Even with the chastity belt, you're just another man, so she treats you with contempt, slaps you, beats you with the nearest object to hand, or even humiliates you in front of her friends. Later, she's tearfully sorry and you have awesome makeup sex, and that little edge of fear ensures that you never quite forget how beautiful and unattainable she is....

BDSM Intimacy Dynamics

2010-08-28T07:42:00.001-07:00

Finding her Dark Side

2010-08-27T06:49:00.000-07:00

Most girls don't wake up at [the age of consent where you are], and say, "Gosh! I want to dominate a man."

Sorry.

Young women in general are just not wired to be quite as geeky over sex as men, and those with high sex drives tend to spend their time having sex with cool older guys, rather than thinking about it – it really isn't fair, is it?

If they are aware of BDSM, it's often in a vague way as something hookers do to satisfy drooling middle-aged perverts, or else it's an exotic realm populated by superhuman vixens and weak males.

However, everybody has their issues, so it follows that everybody has their darkside, it's just that she probably hasn't explored hers yet.

Proceed with caution. The darkside is a nasty, evil place were we enjoy immoral solutions to the problems of being an adult and having adult relationships. Most people are ashamed or afraid of what's there.

There's also a moral issue. Don't do a bait and switch, don't form a vanilla relationship because you are enticed only by her darkside, or because her fucked up lightside resembles the darkside you are looking for.

The good news is that – at least according to the Shop Window theory – if you have a genuine lightside relationship, there's a good chance you have matching darksides and can – cautiously – develop a BDSM shadow relationship to run in parallel with your equally rewarding everyday one.

But, I'll talk more about all this in another post. Right now let's think about mapping her darkside.

GLIMPSES INTO THE DARKNESS

Think of your partner's darkside as a parallel world where the rules are set up to have the kind of relationship that works around her issues. Since you're only interested in identifying her preferred darkside relationship, you don't need to turn yourself into her shrink – which would probably be unethical or damaging anyway. Instead, look for ways in which she'd like to take a "break", or make a "breakout".

What to look for: Break or Breakout?

It's a stereotype, but it is probably true that if in the light of day she is controlling and bossy, there's a good chance she yearns get what she wants without having to ask for it in detail. Similarly, a flirt who is always seeking male approval might yearn to switch off her charms. In their darkside, each of them gets to take a "break".

On the other hand, perhaps the bossyboots really wishes she could be in charge without all this crap about people's feelings. And, suppose the flirt enjoys flirting more than fucking. The darkside enables both to stage a "breakout", busting through normal morality.

You can usually tell the difference between the two by looking for the pain. If some aspect of her personality seems driven, or doesn't really make her happy, then she might want a break from it. On the other hand, if she gets frustrated when her instincts and personality collide with the real world, then you might be looking at a breakout.

When to look...

Adults usually manage to get by in the world and in relationships. By the time we're in our 20s, if not before, we accept other people are real, and that dealing with their personalities, expectations and demands is part of being human.

So, don't expect the part-time dominatrix of your dreams to stomp through her real life snarling orders – she's grown out of that, and you probably wouldn't respect her if she hadn't. (Any relationship would probably be exploitative on your side.)

However, there are times she'll revert to her earlier self, or wander into the darkside:

When she's being silly or playful.
When she's tired, drunk or sad,
In bed in subtle or unsubtle ways
When you've been going out long enough for her to take you for granted
In the media she consumes
The way she reacts to your fantasies, and if course in her fantasies – for god's sake don't analyse these to her.

How to tell

Observe, hypothesise, test. Repeat!

Things may not mean the same thing to her as to you. Going to a fancy dress party as dominatrix may just be thrilling because it's naughty. Instances of frustration may be caused be her PMS, or you acting like a dick. Not all anger comes from the darkside!

So, when you think you've caught her taking a break, or breaking out, work out what rule this might imply. Later, weave it into a fantasy or a bedroom sex game, note her reaction and modify accordingly. (If you're not sharing fantasies, then it's time to start.)

MAPPING HER DARKSIDE

Sometimes the rules and the darkside relationship seem to arrive at one go. For example, if she makes you wear speedos in bed, it's tempting to think that it's time to invest in a chastity belt. However, to deduce her darkside relationship, you have to look at what kind of relationship it creates. Perhaps it's as simple as; she likes to control the sex. "He wears a chastity belt" might be a good rule. But, "She's in charge" would do equally well.

Since the rules shape her preferred darkside relationship, then it is the relationship you need to map. This depends on her intimacy stances.

PRIMARY STANCES

You

Her

Engaged

Disengaged

Engaged

"It's all about our special connection..."

"Stop fussing and let me get on with it."

Disengaged

"I don't care what you feel – you should know what I'm feeling."

"You tell me what you want, and I'll tell you want I want."

EE: "It's all about our connection..."

She's very comfortable with mutuality, but sometimes you catch her getting it on her terms. Perhaps she secretly likes to take charge of her friendships, or likes to control her relationships. Or maybe she likes sex on her terms. Does she like to make you earn access to her body? Pay for pleasure with amusing discomfort? Tease you until you squirm? Or are penises not allowed?

Possible relationships include: Dom\Sub, Keyholder\Locked, Virgin\Chayste

ED: "Stop fussing and let me get on with it."

She's one of those people who wishes friends and lovers would stop trying to second guess her feelings. "What do you want from me? I'm here, aren't I?" In bed, she might be quite the technician – she probably gives a great hand job – but she sometimes forgets to tell you whether she's come or not, and likes to take responsibility for her own orgasm.

Possible relationships include: Sadist\Masochist, Tease\ Victim

DE: "I don't care what you feel – you should know what I'm feeling."

Deep down, she wants to trundle through life while people fuss around her. In bed, she sometimes likes to lie back and let you please her as best you can. Afterwards she'll smile benignly while you come to orgasm, though do nothing much to help.

Possible relationships include: Goddess\Worshipper, Voyeur\Exhibitionist

DD: "You tell me what you want, and I'll tell you want I want."

She's probably quite assertive, and expects the same from her friends. She can probably do nuances and empathy, but finds it frustrating and time consuming. In bed, she's often turns technician and expects the same from you. You probably find you take turns a lot.

Possible relationships include: Owner\Slave

ADDITIONAL STANCES

People usually have additional stances. Usually these complete a column or row. For example, if she's DE & DD, then anything goes as long as she doesn't have to engage with your feelings.

Sometimes – just to make things confusing - she's avoiding a particular square. For example, ED & DE & DD, is really best written NOT EE – she'll do anything to avoid the awkward business of mutuality.

And then, there are probably women who enjoy wandering through all the intimacy stances, while maintaining one or more rules, e.g. she's in charge, or you're in a chastity belt.

NOW WHAT?

The idea is to evolve an authentic shadow relationship through cycles of fantasy and experimentation. But that belongs to another blog entry....

BDSM: It's all about the intimacy

2010-08-25T04:58:00.000-07:00

In developing a BDSM relationship, I've come to suspect that kink is mostly about controlling or stealing intimacy.

Think about it....

To a young person contemplating their first sexual relationship, true intimacy is terrifying. It involves making yourself vulnerable by acknowledging how the other person affects you, and being responsible for your effect on them. This in turn requires that you surrender control and embark on the stressful business of negotiation. And somewhere in there, the intimacy has a price: performing certain physical acts about which you may be deeply ambivalent, or which require hard work.

BDSM fantasies, and ultimately games and relationships, are a way of taking a holiday from all this...

Intimacy Dynamic: Engaged/Disengaged

Ask yourself whether – in your fantasy – each of you are engaged or disengaged with the other person's needs and feelings.

By "engaged", I mean actively seeking a particular emotional response and, through empathy and second-guessing, anticipating the lover's needs (though not necessarily supplying them...). Healthy lovers are mutually engaged, each knowing if and how to touch, and what romantic surprises to spring and when.

Sometimes we can never get enough engagement from our lovers, and we yearn to demand it with menaces, or contrive to be the centre of attention. To become the focus of our the other person's world, we sometimes want to go further and have permission to "disengage" from them – to hand back responsibility for their immediate responses and feelings.

However, being engaged with can be wearing. In a nasty short circuit, there's pressure to be happy so the other person can be happy. Sometimes it's just nice to have the private mental space to enjoy an experience, or concentrate on engaging with your lover. Also, since nobody can always get it right, it can be a relief for both of you if she can just tell you what to do.

When visiting these fantasies with a lover, it's important to get the intimacy dynamic right. If she wants you to shut up and let her do your thing, then you'd better do just that.

Stealing intimacy: workarounds the price

Normal intimacy requires a price... e.g.: penetrative sex; the need to be mutually naked; shared responsibility for both the relationship and for its domestic finances; and the need to be attractive and to value the other person or lose them.

BDSM fantasies enable couples to steal intimacy by working around these prices. For example, self-proclaimed loser small-dicked cuckold chaste sissy husbands are probably evading the pressure to compete in the masculinity stakes and their wives – when they really exist – probably enjoy the sense of security from having an apparently worthless husband who can't wander.

In play, it's important to make a distinction between different kinds of workaround.

Relationship workarounds can be demanding or irritating for the other person, and deeply disturbing if that seems to be what you want 24/7 in real life; it's one thing to have a compliant slave in the bedroom and around the house for a weekend, entirely another to lose your life partner and companion and end up entirely responsible for everything in the relationship.

Sexual workarounds ones have no significance beyond the bedroom and can be fun for all concerned, or have so little effect on the other person that they can be included in a session with no tradeoffs. For example, it doesn't really matter whether I wear a chastity device or not; I'm still a slave who's not going to get his rocks off. The main thing is not to burden her in any way with my workaround.

Whatever they are, the workarounds are what give particular BDSM fantasies their individuality. This means that they need to be used with precision and sensitivity.

The Four Dynamics of BDSM Fantasies

So, with two possibilities for each player, we get:

You

Her

Engaged

Disengaged

Engaged

Dom\Sub

Keyholder\Locked

Virgin\Chayste

Furries

Unequal companions

Sadist\Masochist

Tease\ Victim

Disengaged

Goddess\Worshipper

Owner\Slave Voyeur\Exhibitionist

Engaged\Engaged

This square is the true home of the workarounds.

Typically, she manages the intimacy, so she avoids being vulnerable and he avoids feeling responsible. The intimacy itself usually entails her tormenting and testing him, and him trying to prove please her.

However, in some fetish only pairings, e.g. Virgin\Chayste or Furries, there's no real power exchange. The couple manage to have a vanilla-like sexual relationship, just without a penis, or dressed as animals...

Disengaged\Engaged

You steal intimacy from her. She in turn manages to express herself sexually, without feeling responsible for your feelings.

Engaged\Disengaged

She extracts intimacy from you, without giving it back. Her actions – torturing or teasing – might suggest deeper motivations, but each is designed to produce a response from you. You in turn, get to just express yourself without feeling responsible for her feelings.

Disengaged\Disengaged

Possibly the darkest place. She tells you what she wants, and you supply it and no more. You both get to have relationship without coming out of your shells. My favourite.

Navigating the Four Dynamics

Fantasies with more than one dynamic

You've probably noticed that your particular fantasy, or your typical session, belongs in more than one of these boxes. It may be that you're both doing anything to avoid being mutually Engaged, or that one of you always maintains the same stance. For example, sometimes she has you fuss around her anticipating her needs. Other times, you do nothing except obey orders. Whether you're Engaged or Disengaged, she's always Disengaged – and that's how you both like it!

This can make play complicated because your preferred stances may not overlap. Perhaps she's happy to be your icy owner, but not to tease or torment you. Also, watch out for sudden shifts, for example when she wants you to go from mute slave to unequal companion – don't balk!

Drama

Drama is generated by attempts to force the other to move boxes, and generally serves to affirm the main dynamic.

Sometimes you start outside the desired box, and she battles you into it, e.g. you're withdrawn and she beats you into being more open.

Sometimes one of you tests the other by trying nudge them out of the box. Perhaps you try to engage her with your feelings so that she can slap you down. Perhaps she tricks you into disengaging from her, then brings you back with a punishment.

In play, treat drama with caution. How much she enjoys it depends on her personality, how she feels on the night, and how secure she is in her control. Don't make her battle unless that's what she obviously wants. If you test her, do it with caution and watch out for irritation. Perhaps she just wants to relax into her role.

Finally, drama can feel artificial and destroy the sense of immersion in another world. This can be totally disastrous, or actually a good thing – sometimes being reminded that "this is just a game" gives you permission to continue.

DEVELOPING AND VISITING YOUR BDSM SHADOW RELATIONSHIPS

"Tonight, I'm your slave."

"OK... Go run my bath, and do the dishes."

"Cool."
"Shut up. (THWACK!)"

BDSM shadow relationships are eroticised versions of the dysfunctional ones we've hopefully avoided by the time we're a full adult: "shadow" because we only visit them from time to time; and "relationships" because...

The roles, not props, determine the immediate power and possible action.
The action is not pre-negotiated (though limits can be) and need not be purely sexual.
The game ends when the players break role, and not before.

If you've read this far, then this is probably what you're aiming for. For my thoughts on how to get there, you'll have to wait...

Ten tips for a chaste night of passion...

2010-08-23T04:12:00.000-07:00

For chaystes like me, there's something wonderful about spending the night in chastity after an evening of chaste lovemaking or BDSM.

Of course, there's the masochistic thrill of the moment of lock-in, and every time I'm horribly turned on and realise that – yes, really – I won't be able to come tonight.

It's also nice to relax into the role knowing that there'll be no awkward anticlimax at the end of the evening, and that there's no vanilla pressure on either of you to unlock.

Most of all, though, it's a way of fully entering the chayste existence. If your chastity fantasies are about being chaste, rather than the keyholder power relationship, then their most natural expression is to be locked in with no immediate prospect of release.

Unfortunately, there are usually two snags: fitting the adventure into your mostly vanilla relationship; and overcoming the practical problems of sleeping in a chastity device.

5 RELATIONSHIP TIPS

Most women aren't actually obsessively kinky fetishists. Sorry.

Sure, they'll often have fun indulging our kinks because they like being sex goddesses, because being transgressive gives them a kick, or – best of all – because our kinks offer a natural expression for their vanilla sexuality. For example, if she enjoys flirting and sexual teasing, then a man in a chastity belt makes a great target. If she likes being pampered, then a slave or submissive lover could make her evening.

For these reasons, it's often quite easy to get a girlfriend or partner to play kinky games—but only up to a point. Games that are more trouble than they're worth, or violate her sense of self, or that threaten some unwanted relationship transformation, turn her off and make her look at you with suspicion.

So, unless you're with a true fetishist, if you want to spend the night in chastity, you have to approach your playmate sensitively and realistically....

Just an enhancement, not an extension into the night: If you haven't already done so, introduce chastity play first.

If you already have chastity or BDSM play going, then make it clear that this is just icing on the cake, not a whole new dish, or a meal going on into the night for which she'll have to stay awake.

Given the kinky blinkers most male fetishists wear, your partner probably half-suspects that this is the thin edge of the wedge.

State your lack of expectations, and stick to them!
Benefits for her (and not your fantasy mistress): Give realistic reasons why she might enjoy, or at least be unaffected, by your chastity adventure.

Unless she's a natural domme, most of these benefits are likely to be vanilla... perhaps there's a point in her hormone cycle when she enjoys stimulation, but not penetration... maybe after a massage and a really good seeing to, she's too sleepy to be interested in sex anyway... and if she wants penetration, a strap-on could supply that, with the possibility of variations in size and no more or less staying power than she wants.

Make sure that any kinky benefits relate to her enjoyment of the evening session, not the rest of the night (when she will want to be asleep!). Perhaps it'll be fun playing with you knowing that you really won't be getting off, or maybe she enjoys teasing you. Maybe, up to this point, your play sessions have always had awkward endings because of your need to get off, and this is the fix...

Except for the last point, don't suggest anything kinky which she hasn't already stated she enjoys. For example, it may be obvious to you that she enjoys being "mean", but she may not be comfortable admitting this!

Explicitly take responsibility: Give her the opportunity to enjoy your chastity, without fussing with the mechanics of your chastity device.

Be able to truthfully say that you have all the practical problems ironed out ahead of time (see Practical Tips, below).

Agree to leave the bed if your tossing and turning disturbs her. If possible, put the key out of reach (see Practical Tips #4) rather than turn her into a keyholder.... unless she insists on being one.

State clearly that this is your fantasy and that if it doesn't work out, then that will be your problem, not hers.
Back to normal afterwards: If you've done your job properly, she's probably still sexually sated and therefore not in the mood to think about sex or kink. Unless she requests otherwise, in the morning, act normal, regardless of whether or not you are out of the belt.

Unless she wants to discuss it, tell her "last night was brilliant" and leave it at that for now – this is not the time to give her any feedback, or plan marathons.

If not, let her initiate any action, and don't rush back into kink space unless prompted by her.

Be matter-of-fact but discrete about the practical aftermath. Clean the device and any toys, and put them away without making a fuss. If you have welts or chafing, pretend to ignore them around her.

5 PRACTICAL TIPS

Humans can adapt to all sorts of discomfort, but not right away, and not overnight! It's also true that with a BDSM fantasy, you're probably after a very particular sort of discomfort. If something practical goes wrong, it'll spoil your chastity adventure and possibly put her off the whole thing...

Snag thoroughly: Mild pinching and chafing won't feel nearly so "mild" after more than eight hours locked in.
Dry run: If possible, try sleeping on your own locked in, or at least wear the device for 6-8 hours during the day. That way, you'll be able to spot and fix any problems before the big night, and have some idea about how to get comfortable.

Most importantly, make sure you can consistently answer the call of nature without making a mess or filling your chastity cup with piss!
Contingency plan: Have a way of concealing your locked up state should the outside world intrude, e.g. boxer shorts and loose trousers.

Also, in extremis, know how you'd get out of the belt.
Put the key out of reach: The idea is to adjust to overnight chastity, not to spend eight hours revisiting the decision. Even if you have the willpower, your partner may start feeling guilty.

So, put the key where you can't get at it until the morning. I use the timelock software, but you might want to leave the keys in your car, or the office, or post them to yourself.
Normal routine: Don't gild the lily! On the night, wear your usual pyjamas, have the usual supper or nightcap, go through the usual routine.

The only thing that should be different is that you've got a chastity device around your cock.

The other stuff can come later.

Above all else, be realistic!

If you remember that it takes more than a sex toy to change the way our bodies and our minds operate, then there's a good chance that even a very vanilla partner will enjoy her part in your fantasy...

Life with Moira...

2010-08-18T05:14:00.000-07:00

I notice somebody opted for life with Moira; the kinkiest of all the choices.

What's it like?
Moira, sweet Highland redhead that she is, doesn't really relate emotionally to men, so expect her to get her kicks at the local lesbian club. Sometimes she'll bring dates home, and the kinkier ones won't mind if you watch.

She has a good reason for keeping you around, though. It's handy to have somebody to look after the house and, though she's not interested in teasing or giving pleasure, or in the psychological aspects of femdom, Moira does like causing pain.

Every so often, she stakes you out and drips hot wax on your chest while she has you lick her off. Other times she'll put clothes pegs on your nipples and masturbate - not as a tease - but because she likes the sounds you make.

Do you get to come?
Yes, any time you ask, she ties you to the bed and use a prostrate massager. The down side is that she then beats you, and you don't have that cushion of arousal to hide behind...

Why do you stay?
The fear keeps you on edge, making every moment with her intense. There's something about her that keeps your chastity belt tight.

Rare Sketch from the world of Whips and Stockingtops

2010-08-17T16:11:00.000-07:00

(from femdomartists.com)
I think the slave must have drawn this and kept it hidden until a temporal backwash wafted it to our timeline.

Her stockinged leg obscures his groin, but there's no sign of an erection... there can't be - a permanent cage keeps his genitals clamped to his body. Perhaps he wanted to imagine what it would be like to be with her without the steel implant, but couldn't quite bring himself to draw in his penis. It simply doesn't belong.

She's wearing stockings, but carrying the whip. She wouldn't make a special performance of punishing a mere slave, so perhaps he has just serviced her so well that she now feels the need to restore the balance of power.

Many of the under-the counter slave manuals recommend just this; slaves can get ideas above their station when they've kept you whimpering for an hour, so best to beat them firmly back into their place.

In a moment, she'll whip him, then have him remove her shoes and roll down her stockings. The proximity to her hot groin will be unbearable. Her musk alone will tighten his cage until he is biting back whimpers. However, she'll dismiss him with a wave of her hand.

As she sprawls on her elegant bed, and he'll slope off to his kitchen basket, back throbbing, cock beating like a second heart inside its cage.

Perhaps sketching the lines of her thighs and ample buttocks is enough to trigger a spurt of semen. Any reduction in arousal comes as a relief, but leaves him cold, hurt, and humiliated.

Or perhaps he sketches her to preserve the glow of one-way desire just enough to warm up the bleak places in his heart?

Femdom Artists site

2010-08-15T13:53:00.001-07:00

Followed a link in comments and found this site. In amongst the usual fetish images are some more vanilla-looking dommes (of which more later).

Felicity...?

2010-08-13T05:14:00.003-07:00

Apart from the hair colour, a certain British songstress would make a very good Felicity....

Moira....?

2010-08-12T08:51:00.001-07:00

via fireycrotch

Interesting post...

2010-08-12T05:15:00.000-07:00

Her's Forever has an interesting post on what you fantasise about, or do, before an orgasm, and what you're actually prepared to do afterwards.

Of course, in a chastity belt, you don't get an orgasm to tip you back to vanilla normality, so I for one find it hard to remove the thing once I'm in...

However, I wonder whether this is the acid test for the difference between a kink and an alternate self?

Who would play Felicity...?

2010-08-07T04:18:00.000-07:00

I can see at least on other person would go for Felicity. I always imagined her looking a bit like this...

Plump, but not obese. Self-confident (at least on the outside) and definitely English "posh totty".

Here voluptuous shape is so unfashionable, I don't think there's a modern actress or pop star who could play her.

Even so, the world is full of women and girls who actually look like this.

Who would you cast in the movie...?

Is this Cassandra? (New Poll)

2010-08-04T13:54:00.000-07:00

I found this lady courtesy of Johnny's Vintage Archives. She's the spitting image of how I imagine Cassandra... or at least how I imagine the 1930s model who resembles Cassandra.

It made me think about the girls I invented. They pretty much covered all the types, and - to be honest - even now, they're all a turn on.

But, which of them would you choose if you were stuck in a chastity belt?

Me? They're all intelligent and attractive. However, Moira scares me. I'd stay clear of her. Cassandra's too dark, too bleak, even without the kink. That leaves Felicity, all giggles and warmth since the chastity belt banishes her one insecurity.

What about you...?

Survey: Chastity Planet well ahead...

2010-08-04T13:47:00.000-07:00

So, Chastity Planet is still well ahead in the survey. I wonder if it's the familiarity of the setting that carries the day...

Chastity Planet Episode 4 continued

2010-07-07T14:38:00.000-07:00

And here's the concluding part of Episode 4. I think there's another to come. As always, it all depends on reader reaction...

He shuddered. "No. That's not fair!"

"But you are wanting to come?" cooed Brigit, rubbing insistently.

"Yes! No.. Ah...!"

The sharp sensation set Tom straining in his bonds, pulling back his hips. But Brigit's fingers followed. Tom's penis throbbed crazily, trying to burst free of the flesh-welded cup

"It's a bit like an oversized love button," she mused.

The semen forced its way through his penis like molten lava. Tom whimpered and clenched his buttocks, doing everything to draw back on the torrent.

Brigit yelped and leapt to her feet.

Tom's penis rippled. He thrust his hips but felt nothing as a months' worth of semen drained from the blank cup.

The girls laughed and Tom blushed. Shorn of the fuzz of sexual frustration, he felt achy, sticky, foolish—

Mary gave the whip an experimental flourish. The tails fanned out and swished the air. Not a whip then, a scourge.

--and scared. "Please no! You can’t do this!"

Mary grinned like a demented pixie. "But I can, and I will!" As the other two girls arranged themselves on the nearest bed to watch, the petite blonde paced around to stand to his left. He glimpsed the scourge rise, then pain-drops spattered his back.

Tom yelped and arched back against his bonds.

Mary giggled and struck him again, this time on the buttocks.

The impact rocked through into his chastity cup and his flaccid penis twitched.

"How am I doing?" she asked.

Tom just whimpered.

Brigit grinned. "I've had an idea." She rolled to her feet, put her back to Tom and lifted the hem of her silvery dress to unveil moon-white buttocks dusted with freckles.

Deidre's jaw dropped. "Brigit Ursula O'Hara, what do you think you are doing?"

Brigit shifted her silver-sandled feet apart and bent over to rest her hands on the bed.

Tom's eyes widened. His cock stirred inside its prison.

The red head reached back one hand to guide his... no, the fake... cock into her pussy, and pushed her cool buttocks against his thighs. "I promised him sex."

"Are you quite finished?" asked Mary from his left.

"Yes," said Brigit, her Celtic lilt turning into a luxurious drawl. She glanced over her freckled shoulder. "Whip him until he bleeds."

The scourged swished and clawed the back of Tom's left thigh. He screamed and writhed against the bonds that pinned him in a taut X. The dildo slurped and the redhead moaned.

Now the scourge bit his shoulders, his waist, his buttocks, dotting around randomly so there was no way to brace for the pain. Each assault forced a scream from his throat and made his hips jerk. The redhead kept her buttocks jammed firmly against his thighs, so his agonised movements made the dildo so churn and squelched inside her red-thatched vagina.

The plump girl on the bed reached inside her sheet. Her arm worked in time to the pain. Her face purpled. She drew in her legs, shedding her covering entirely so that he could see her chubby fingers in the midst of her thick black curls, churning away at her glistening lips.

And the scourge scored his back, making wet sounds as it landed.

Tom gave up screaming and now Brigit's and Deidre's mingled moans buffeted his ears. The plump girl curled forward and seemed to meet the tall redhead's gaze, then she gave a long groan, and that triggered an answering cry of orgasm.

The pain ceased. "Thank God!" said Mary. "My arm hurts."

The redhead twitched forward off Mark's dildo, straightened herself and brushed down her skirt silvery skirt. "You can go now." She clapped her hands. "Release."

The bonds simply gave.

Tom dropped to his knees and then toppled to sprawl on the floor. The welts criss-crossing his back and buttocks became a throbbing web of pain.

"No, he can't be going," said Mary, behind him. Her bare feet pattered around him and appeared before his face. Her toes were neatly pedicured, but with no sign of nail polish. "Kiss my feet," she said.

Tom raised his face. "Go to Hell!" His gaze ran up her slender thighs and beyond the hem of her T-shirt. A sodden furrow divided her blonde frizz, leaving her red pubic lips.

He kissed the top of Mary's tiny feet.

The salt and dust collected on his tongue and it was as if the web of pain collapsed into his groin.

With a groan, he forced his tongue between her toes. The sweaty tang made his chastity cup clench like a robotic fist. He whimpered and licked up towards her anklebone. "Let me fuck you."

Mary laughed. The scourge caught him in the cheek.

His face blazed and he sprawled onto his marred back to lie their pinned by fatigue and pain.

"I have a better idea..." Her footsteps receded. The fabricator pinged and the girls giggled.

Tom raised his head.

The petite blonde stood before him, naked now; pert breasts glistening in the light, nipples standing out like finger tips, and a black penis sprouting from her groin as if it belonged. "I think I'll be the one doing the fucking."

Tom yelped. His anus clenched, sending blood into his captive groin. "No!"

Mary's eyes narrowed. "But you want it, don’t you?"

The tall redhead appeared beside her, equally naked except for her strappy sandals, long legs stretching up to where a dildo protruded from her red bush. "I'm sure he does. Why else would he have come home with me?" said Brigit sweetly.

Deidre stepped out from behind the taller girl. From between her chubby thighs projected a short fat dildo. Her round face creased into a wide grin. "I'd say he was asking for it."

Tom shuffled backwards and collided with a sofa.

The three girls took a step forward, double-headed dildos glistening with lubrication.

Chastity Planet: It's not about the boy

2010-07-07T09:10:00.000-07:00

I'm not convinced I've built Chastity Planet quite right.

By giving post-orgasmic women the option to reward men by making the front of the chastity cup open, I've made the whole power structure about male sexuality.

This is fine if I want the place to be like Ibiza, or Spring Break, with frolicking hotties on the rampage taking advantage of overwhelmed young men.

It's less fine if I want it to be a place where more demure ladies might take a holiday, only to be drawn in to wilder adventures.

As it stands, there's no way that Chastity Planet could downplay the erotic nature of what it offers enough to allay the suspicions of parents sending their 18-year old daughters to the Conservatory.

There are two ways around this.

The easiest is just to close all chastity cups, end of story. The horny males still live in fear of earning demerits, or falling down the status ladder, but there's no chance of an orgasm.

The alternative is to rule that Chastity Planet is a federation of several nations, each with its own laws, and each loudly decrying the others for departing from the original feminist vision.

The major continent is sealed-cup only, and so the main - ostenisble - destination for tourists and students. However, other more S&M cultures also exist....

Survey: Chastity Planet still on top...

2010-07-07T02:38:00.000-07:00

Chastity Planet is still clearly in the lead, so much so that I'm tempted to make this my next long project.

Should I make it more retro SciFi in feel? I think it would work better. In a "realistic" far future, robots would take the place of slaves.

And then there's the costumes. I've vaguely assumed it was best to keep things close to our own fashions.

But, perhaps I'm wrong.

Food for thought....

Chastity Belt Erotica

Has anybody seen this vamp?

Making chastity permanent - XTube Porn Video - mosthandysub

Lena?

Whips and Stockingtops: The Flapper and the Fishing Village (cont)

It's Love Our Lurkers Day!

Whips and Stockingtops: The Flapper and the Fishing Village

Useful posts on other people's blogs....

Whips and Stockingtops: Disappointed

Perfect flapper with whip...

The appeal of Permanent Chastity: becoming invulnerable but also vulnerable

Roman Slave (caption)

Whips and Stockingtops: Bookworm

Cold Disregard

Free review copies of "The Vanilla Dominatrix"!

"The Vanilla Dominatrix" published!

Most useful post on male chastity ever

Perfect approach...

Roman Mistress...

Review: “How to Find Your Sex Slave – Delux Edition”

The Vanilla Dominatrix (what I'm working on)

Romans had male chastity belts!

New chastity belt manufacturer?

The Challenge (now on Smashwords)

Four kinds of fetish...

More questions from Insomniac Night Owl (cont)

More questions from Insomniac Night Owl

Insomniac Night Owl's questions

The law of ten

Excerpt from "Chaste Honeymoon"

Help? Good BDSM web resources

Johnnys Vintage Archives

The Challenge (episode 2)

Design notes for Vesta (Chastity Planet)

Erotic Purpose

Design Specifications

Background to the setting: The Adult Zone

Minerva and Femtopia and other settlements

Immigration and Emigration

Minerva and Femtopia – erotic tensions

Stories

The Challenge (episode 1)

Second Honeymoon on Chastity Planet

A dream of Chastity Planet

The Chastity Belt: Cassandra's Double?

The Ultimate Chastity Belt (What the Victorians did for us)

20% off the Chastity Belt

Designing the world of the New 3rd Sex

Oh to be a chayste slave in this room!

The impossibilty of full consent in femdom

Polls...

So do chayste men get to come? (You tell me...)

Why most healthy relationships have a potential BDSM dynamic...

Femdom reciprocity in a nutshell

Chastity Planet - Work In Progress

The Vanilla Dominatrix

Femdom as shark cage (women are scary without the whips)

The Glass Chastity Belt

"The Chastity Belt"

Morning in Aqua Sulis

Morning on Chastity Planet

Vintage Scans

Clippings...

Hellooooo 69!

Response to Fur Sissy

Chastity Planet: The toy boy

Getting the femdom action and trappings and still being "authentic"

Chayste at the wedding

The Chastity Belt: Olivia

BDSM Intimacy Dynamics

Finding her Dark Side

BDSM: It's all about the intimacy

Ten tips for a chaste night of passion...

Life with Moira...

Rare Sketch from the world of Whips and Stockingtops

Femdom Artists site

Felicity...?

Moira....?

Interesting post...

Who would play Felicity...?