Tragedy

This is reprinted with permission from the Passional Myspace account:

The Plight of Jade
Sunday night, a friend, Jade Vixen, and her boyfriend came home from dinner, where an angry stalker shot her boyfriend. That same individual, a fetish client not unknown to the Dominant women of New York and Philly, then kidnapped her at gunpoint drove her around in his car and molested her. Only by using her charm and wits was she able to convince him to let her escape with her life after four hours of a car ride through hell.

But none of these incidents compare to the rape she is now experiencing in the news media, especially here in Philadelphia.

I first learned of the incident on Monday afternoon, before anyone knew that killer David Kreig had finally taken his own life. It was already a sad day as I learned of the death of a friend just minutes before learning about what happened to Jade. I didn't want to make the trauma public out of respect to Jade. What could I (or anyone) do?

On Tuesday, the Philadelphia Inquirer ran a small non-inflammatory piece about the incident, which was a huge relief to me. Having a violent stalker is every woman's nightmare, and the mainstream world is often unkind to women who work in the adult industry. So I was prematurely relieved that the news had kindly overlooked the sensational aspects of Jade's life and loves. But now the episode has gone public at high speed.

The Daily News didn't even break the story until after the New York Post plastered Jade on the cover yesterday. Today's story manipulated her tale into a B-movie plot line where femme fatale "Jade Vixen" plays a villainess who destroyed the lives of two (innocent?) men. Masturbatory embellishments regarding "sissy-slut training" and descriptions of photos featuring her (in a jumpsuit) "squatting with her legs spread," left an especially foul taste in my mouth. Killer David Kreig was described as having "seemed like a nice guy" after several paragraphs detailing Jade's sexual proclivities.

As if the print copy weren't inflammatory enough, Philly News ran online slide show of copyrighted photographs from photographers who are clearly not on the Daily News payroll alongside anonymous racist, sexist and personal comments (including the Jade's cell phone number) in what seems to me an almost criminal encouragement of future harassment and attacks. Thankfully, some of the most offensive comments, including her now-disconnected phone number have been deleted, but the damage is done.

To know Jade is to love her. She is an intelligent, generous and kind person, which is very likely what sent David Kraig into a fit of obsession. Her only crime was having treating this disturbed man with compassion after repeated episodes of harassment.

The crimes of the news are more numerous and more severe.

Jade has donated her modeling services and dozens of hours of her time to several independent artists, designers, retailers and charitable causes yet the Daily News didn't see fit to balance this information against salacious and potentially disturbing details about her sexuality found on the internet.

Right now, it unfortunately seems as though any online fantasy post about Jade is going to become part of a public feeding frenzy of quasi-pornographic publishing masquerading as news. I can't imagine its going to be very much fun for a woman who has just lost a lover at the hands of a lunatic.

Please keep Jade in your thoughts and prayers.

LIve from Cupid's Arcade

When I started this blog I had some notion of daily posts. Then I got busy and that went out the door.
But every now and then I do get out and explore the greater world of kinkdom. Such as today, where I ended up at Cupid's Arcade, just due west of Kutztown, PA.
You might think a place called Cupid's would, at very least, be cute. Guess again, Porky. This place is a scumatorium of the most refined sort. In my travels, I haven't witnessed such a hole-in-the-wall since visiting the worst places in the Midwest, twenty years ago. Holy Mother Of Harlots, this place has to be experienced.
To start off with, Cupid's is located in a rural area. It is near Allentown and Kutztown University. I would gather it's one of the few places rural kinksters can visit to pick up giant silicone dongs. Probably because it is so remote from anything, the locals don't mind it being there. The establishment did have that long-term look. Here's a clue for finding it: it's located right next to a big red barn and I am not making this up.
What it resembles on the outside is a two story cinder block building. In fact, it is a two story cinder block building which just happens to sell porn. No windows I could see and, although the main entrance was to the side, the parking was mostly in the back, safely away from the traffic on the main road next to it. There appeared to be a small residence further to the back. It looked to have been remodeled at some point in the past with mobile homes. But it didn't appear to be in use from what I could tell. My suspicion is the rear home/trailer park once upon a time had other uses connected with the bookstore.
Once inside I was confronted with the famous peg-board and purple shelving of porn stores of the past. Most of the adult toy supplies were the generic "Doc Johnson" type. A central island was manned by a nice clerk, but it also held a TV tuned to the SciFi channel. The bookshelves no longer contained books but DVD's. Cupid's seems to have been around a long time and I bet once they even sold books there.
Ah, but to the action: one row of video arcades in a dark corridor on the bottom floor. There were some people watching the videos, but most, in spite of a sign warning against loitering, were just hanging out in between the booths. Some of the patrons were even chatting to each other, something I don't think I've ever seen in an ABS.
But the real destination of your intrepid explorer was the movie rooms. This I had heard about over the years and was anxious to see what they resembled. $12.00 purchased my admission to this area.
First was the downstairs "movie room": one dark room with many benches facing a dim TV screen showing straight porn. There was only one movie-goer there and he looked bored. Up stairs took me to another movie room with identical benches facing a TV screen, this time showing gay porn. Oh, I get it. Two movie rooms, one for the straights, another for the gays.
Not much action there either, but I was there around noon and it was a weekday. There did seem to be some dark alcoves which were probably put to use whenever possible and rolls of paper towels on the wall.
The effect was a cross between a church and a rest stop.
It didn't seem too dirty and no one hassled me. Neither movie room was my idea of an erotic encounter space, but I suppose you take what you can get for $12.00.
All-in-all, Cupid's is a throw-back to the days of the erotic book store bunkers which used to ring major cities with blue laws. The sort of place where you would read about a city councilman arrested for boffing some minister in public. It doesn't appear to have ever been a legitimate theatre, which is usually the case for porn stores in near-by Philly. I'm sure it can get pretty intense in those movie rooms on Saturday night, but I don't think it would be the place to take a date.

CB3000 Mishap

From my old live journal:

"OK, in light of last night's bad experience I am going to be retiring the CB3000 for now. Let me tell you this tale of horror:

I was locked in yesterday morning after taking the cage off for cleaning. For most of the day I didn't have a problem; it was more of an inconvenience than anything else. The problem started later. I'd urinated with it on several times and made the important discovery that you really need to be sitting down on the toiler for this action. So I went ahead and wore it to work, mindful that Goddess had the only key to it and she would be getting home before me.

About 8 PM (I work nights for several hours on a computer), I decided to go to the toilet. I sat down and started to urinate when I felt a sharp pain. I looked down to see blood in the CB3000! My cock was in severe pain, although the bleeding quickly ceased. Because I'd made the error of not having a back-up emergency key, I was unable to get the thing off. After assuring myself that I would not need to be take to a doctor, I cleaned the CB3000 the best I could and returned to work.

Upon arriving at home around 11 PM, I told Goddess I needed the CB3000 key immediately and went upstairs to unlock myself. The blood had dried on the inside of the device, but I was able to clean it quickly in the sink. Further urination produced a brief discoloration with some pain. I checked the head of my cock and it appears it was shoved into a bad position against the wall of the CB3000 when I'd started to urinate earlier. I think the sudden flow tore the opening slightly, causing the intense pain.

There has been no obvious blood in my urine for the rest of the day. No burning while urinating, but some discomfort while thinking about the injury. Thank my lucky stars no further injury has been sustained.

So, until I can figure out what happened, the CB3000 goes back into the box.

Anyone have similar problems using this thing?"

S&Man (2006)

Here's a little documentary which treads the line between horror and arousal.
If you've spent any time going to the various horror movie conventions in the US (Monster Mania, Chiller Theater, etc.) you will notice a fair number of indie movie producers who've set up shop hawking their latest slasher/monster/whatever film. They always have some hot chickee in tow to promote the flick because, as we all know, horror film buffs are overwhelmingly male. Getting their picture taken with some aspiring starlet in a skimpy costume may be the only female action some of these guys are ever going to get.
S&Man focuses on the rise of the indie stalker voyeur film. It has a number of interviews with the filmmakers themselves. There's also several interviews with the "scream queens" who star in them. Also, some discussion about the kind of person who watches these videos. There's even two sex doctors who are interviewed for it.
Most disturbing is the dude who creates fake snuff movies for his adoring fans. He hires a model, videos her daily life from a concealed angle, then kills her. All of this is staged, of course, and he even shows how to fake the final death scene. But you do have to wonder: what kind of person pays money to watch these things? And he's not the only one who makes these type of movies.
I was seriously creeped-out listening to "Bill Zebub" describe the murder scenes in his productions as "stroke material". Nor was my mental state improved by hearing the director of August Underground (a "found" video where you get to watch a serial killer at work) talk about all the people who want to be the victim in his latest production.
An interesting, if disturbing, look at the thin line between sex and death.

What's The Matter With California?

As the culture war starts to go hot again, it appears the land of smogberries and Hollywood will be on the front line. I usually stay away from politics on this blog, because doing so will offend someone and I haven't offended enough people. Yet.
So, fans, what's my take on Prop. 8? For or against? Against. And also against the whole monosexual mindset that is rallying the troops to stop it. To put matters bluntly: I will sign on to the gay marriage drive when the gay marriage people sign on to poly relationships. Any combination of adults over the age of 18 up to twelve in number.
And why no more than twelve? Because that's where it gets absurdly complicated. Although I can see some special cases where more than twelve would be justifiable.
I think making polyfidelidity state-sanctioned would also take the wind out of the Mormon church's sails. Let's face it, the real reason the MoMo's are against Bruce and David is having to give up polygamy. Let them have all those wives once again, they'll go back to being happy bicyclists. Start burning down their churches and you are going to see a range war of an epic scale.
So, yes I'm all in favor of state recognition of Ellen and Stephanie if you are for the same right given to Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice.
And to those of you who whine "But this is about two people!", I have this to say:
Fascist!
And now, back to our regularly schduled kink.

Toys Are Not For Children (1972)

My nominee for the Feel-Bad Sex movie of the 20th century. Produced, directed and starring people who did few movies before or after. Released through a booking company which specialized in grindhouse films. Found in many 16mm rental catalogs over the years. And finally, unleashed on DVD as part of a "sexy seventies shockers series". In other words, a movie you have to really, really seek out.
Poor little Jamie (Marcia Forbes, who seems to have acted in this one movie) has a problem. Her father abandoned her while she was a little girl. Her mother is the Bitch From Hell who constantly screams at her. Jamie's only solace is playing and sleeping with the toys her estranged father continues to send her year after year. She finds a job in a toy store where she gets to be around the things she loves. Soon, she's a model employee ("She makes the toys come alive!" the store owner exclaims), but attracts the attention of a coworker, Charlie (Harlan Poe). She also makes the aquatintence of a woman who comes into the store and turns out to be a call girl with a sleazy pimp boyfriend. When her mother discovers her new friend is the very woman who lured daddy astray, she kicks Jamie out of the house. Jamie relunctantly agrees to marry Charlie, but he discovers on their wedding night that she just wants tucked into bed. Bummer. Charlie soons abandons his new bride for the hot babes at a local bar and Jamie takes up with the call girl. In a strange turn of events, Jamie becomes a sex worker specializing in fantasy scenes. But it all comes to a tragic end when, spurned by her new protege, the call girl sends Jamie to a special client: her very own father.
Editied into a non-linear story, it can be a little hard to follow. The marriage of Jamie and Charlie, for instance, occurs at the beginning of the film, as does it's dissolution. But you don't see his courtship of her until the half-way mark. It would seem the director wanted the inevitablity of the ending pounded into the audience. Again, I can only imagine what the stroke-daddies who went to see this painfest must have resembled when the credits rolled.
Watching Toys are Not for Children can only be compared to reading a short story by Charles Birkin. A master of the cruel tale, Birkin was alway great for running anything good about your day. Billed as a sexy movie, Toys is anything but. Imagine an Oliver Twist where everybody wants to fuck the orphan and he gets tossed out on the street.
This is not to say we have an art film here. This movie looks to have been lensed on cheap stock. The actors are OK, but not oscar material. Even the sets look left over from an educational film. I'm sure there is a story waiting to be told as to how this thing ever got made.
A perfect antidote to all those Swedish erotica movies.

The Shop Down the Street

I live in a small town outside Philadelphia. It's quiet, we even got rid of the few bars some years ago. No industry to speak of and the boundaries are pretty static. There's been some attempts to revitalize things, but everyone pretty much gets along. We like it like that.
It's not all apple pie. I have a few friends in "The Scene" who live some streets away, but they interact with their select playmates and I'm not offended when I don't get invited. I would guess more than a few houses have rooms dedicated to pleasure among adults.
And now we have a lingerie shop in town.
I stopped in the other night because I noticed a "Grand Opening" sign over a store front which had been vacant (most are). It's run by a dancer at some of the strip/gentleman's clubs in the area and she seems to be catering her garments to other dancers. In the back room there's even a brass pole to practice your spins. I looked at most of her stock, but I will say it didn't impress me. It looks like she has very few vendors, but this isn't unusual in a new business.
I wish her all the best. She seems like a sincere woman with some drive. I just hope it doesn't bring out the blue noses who frequent the churches hereabout.
And she did have enough intelligence not to put the store's sign out on the street. I can't seem to remember what the store name was, but it did have "Erotic" in it. I'm sure that would've been the topic of much discussion at the local Burger King.

The Story of Joanna (1975)

Gerald Damiano passed away recently, so it's only appropriate I take a look at one of his less-famous films. Story of Joanna features Jamie Gillis and Terri Hall as two people who play the Master/slave relationship to its fullest. Originally, Damiano wanted to film a new version of Story of O, but couldn't afford the rights. So this is his take on the whole mystique. Damiano even has a camaeo role sitting at a bar at the beginning.
Too bad the budget just never afforded him the ability to achieve his goal. Although the film was lensed in a beautiful victorian mansion, the subpar cinematography just isn't up to the task. Everytime the camera turns to a source of light it becomes shrouded in a glowing cloud. Terri Hall, who plays Joanna, just didn't have the acting chops at the time. I've notice this in other Male Domination films such as The Pet; my guess is the director is so smitten by the pretty starlet he's blinded to her lack of acting ability. Note to future arteurs: a tight little ass will not overcome a girl who can't speak her lines.
The story: Jamie Gillis brings Terri Hall home one night and treats her to the high life. At the end of his wining and dining, he tells her she must love him with no prospect for love in return. From then on it's a series of sex scenes which become increasingly humilating for her. What saves this movies from being another XXX house stroker is the conclusion, which came as a total suprise.
Do check this one out if you can find it.

Phillie Kama Sutra

It will be three years ago next month that Club Kama Sutra in Philadelphia went down in a blaze of glory. Ratted by a local news channel, CKS didn't stand a chance of survival once the word was out. A sexual mecca for people on the right coast, the club was one of the most elegant swing establishments I have ever attended.
It had a BYOB policy, but a very nice catered buffet on the first level. You climbed the stairs to the second floor where the "private rooms" were located. I say private because anyone could see into them from the outside, due to a complex system of mirrors. Proceeding down the hall of pleasure, you came face to face with a huge room lined in cushions. This large room, with plenty of space for copulating couples, had a transparent Plexiglas ceiling which allowed patrons on the third floor to look down into what one friend called a "fucking aquarium". The third and final floor was a large dance room, complete with poles and a DJ. There was also a shower area and a secret room only known to the staff and select patrons.
From what I could gather, it had been founded by a former stock broker and his swing partner. Although the location was supposed to be a guarded secret, every one on South Street knew what really was going on in the building where CKS was housed. On Friday and Saturday evenings, you could see smartly dressed men and women make there way to it from the parking garages. A doorman would greet them, check the membership, and admit whoever had registered in advance. Saturdays was couples only, but some single men were admitted on Fridays. It was only open on the weekends.
But the adverse publicity brought the whole party to an end. Not wanting to deal with angry neighbors, the management packed up and left. There was some talk of trying to start it up again in the Poconos. And in the wake of CKS, several other swing clubs would soon open for buisness in Philadelphia. None have been the subject of an investigative news show.

My First Porn Movie

Does anyone remember when you had to actually go into a theater to see porn? I don't think that's been requirement for the past 25 years, but once upon a time you had to pay your money and sit in a dark room with strangers to see some XX/XY action. It was almost a rite of passage for some of us. You turned 18 (or 21 in some states), drank your first beer, and went to a porn movie.
My first real XXX double feature was Misty Beethoven/Score. Saw both of them at the old World Theater in Columbus, Ohio on a rainy afternoon in 1980. The World is no longer there, I think a gymnasium may be on the same site. But it was the place to go see skin flicks near OSU in those days.

Raid!

Pull up a chair, kids, and let old CK tell you about the time he was caught in a police raid on a private bdsm establishment. I'm not going to get detailed; the name of the club and the owners shall remain unlisted. Suffice it to say the organization which ran the club was on the right coast and said outfit is no longer around. At least, I haven't heard from any of the principles in years. What I was doing when the Imperial Storm Troopers broke in and who I was doing it with shall also remain nameless. But I did have all my clothes on and less than five people were involved. Stroke on that!
The place was located in one of those parts of town which had seen better days. At one point, I'd been charged with providing security for it. This was pretty easy; once I learned who the members were, I'd let them in without a hassle. Anyone else was invited to meet the club manager who would tell them what the place was all about (bdsm). Since the club did not go out of it's way to attract the wrong kind of attention, the only trouble I ever had was with the neighborhood kids. But keeping the little urchins away from the entrance door could prove challenging.
However, at the time of the intrusion, I'd already quit the security job. It didn't bring in enough money for the weekends consumed. I was there when the raid happened because I had a free evening and decided to go visit some of my co-workers.
The first thing I noted when I arrived was the main door: opened and unsecure. I pointed this fact out to one of the staff who assured me someone would soon be on duty. This should have been my first clue the front line defenses were slipping.
I hung out for several hours. Watched a few subbies get spanked, observed some clueless newbies troll for Dommes, the usual evening. I will say there was always a sense of unity at this place. It was the only club of it's kind in the city and the kinksters didn't have any place else to go. The likes of it have not been seen again.
Shortly after midnight I noticed the most amazing thing: four guys with a police officer fetish. It wasn't unusual to see someone in uniform at the club; anyone who's ever visited a gay leather bar can tell you all about the "police officers" walking around. But what struck me as odd was that these four dudes were holding flashlights. Now this was a kink I'd never witnessed before.
And then it hit me: RAID!
About thirty seconds later it wasn't just four guys with cop fetishes who were in the club, it was filled with all kinds of police. And they'd secured all entrances. Nobody was getting in or out.
For the next hour the club consisted of patrons scared shitless and cops who couldn't figure out what the hell was going on. I later discovered the city's finest had two objectives that evening: a whore house and the club. Someone had finked the club out to the license board, which was a big surprise to the staff and patrons because we'd always been told it was in compliance. The owners of the whore house had been tipped-off the gendarmes were on the way. This meant the crusaders had to go for objective #2. And they were loaded for bear.
I will say everyone behaved "cool". The club owner, who just happened to have the lawyer on hand, sat still and didn't say a word. Most of the cops were clustered in small groups discussing the legality of the situation. I even had a uniformed officer ask me what "fire play" was. Nobody tried to make an issue of anything.
After about 1/2 hour, some kind of majordomo arrived and told the owner the club was being shut down for code violations until further notice. Again, this was a big surprise to all of us who had been led to believe everything was cool with city hall. Then all the cops vacated the place and went home with plenty of stories to laugh at over at the bar. Fifty of so kinksters left quaking in their boots, grateful they wouldn't be on the late news.
The club never reopened. The owner tried to rally support, but most of the kinksters had moved onto other perversions. Besides, one close call with the paddy wagon was enough for most of us. I doubt if the place had opened anyone would have quickly returned.
There was obligitory in-depth article in a fashionable magazine about the raid and local scene a few months later. I found it amusing because the Jimmy Olsen who wrote the article tried to "recreate" the whole incident. Really absurd since cub reporter was never there at all. But I realize this is the "new media" and such things are irrelevant.
But after all the years later, I still wonder one thing: what would I have done had I been on duty that fateful night? The cops swarmed over the doorman when they arrived and he never had a chance to raise the alarm. Would I have saw them coming and hit the panic button? I like to think I'd have played Roland and stood there firm telling them in no uncertain terms that nobody was getting in that club unless my manager said elsewise. Yeah, that sounds good in a movie or book, but likley would've landed me a trip downtown with a nightstick up my ass. Would I have at least hit the button when I saw the cruisers arrive? I'll never know.

Attack of the Giant Women (2006)

Every time I think I've heard the ultimate in fetishes and kink, I discover that I am no way even close. So here we have a documentary about men who fantasize over giant women. Not only do they dream about their own 50 ft bride, they also make movies where women smash small villages specially constructed just for the event. Some of these men also travel long distances just to meet their fantasy Amazon.
A few of them even get to marry. Although, I can't imagine what it must be line to live with some women so tall she towers over you. It must make bedroom shopping interesting to say the least.
One of the recurring themes in this documentary, in fact, are men who have married the giantess of their dreams. It even opens with a man in a Scandinavian country walking down the street with his super-tall wife. His comment:"Everybody stares at me like they want to say 'you lucky bastard'". There's also a German guy who married a Ukrainian lady basketball player. She seems hopelessly in love with him. I can't but hope that everything works out for them.
I can relate to some extent. The other day I found myself face-to-face with a 6 foot 6 woman at a local store where she was behind the counter. The whole incident was errie because we were the only two people in the store. I kept wondering if I'd just stepped into one of the videos these amazonphiles produce. But she didn't pick me off the ground and haul me into the back room to satisfy her lustful desires.
Not that it would have been a bad thing.

Naturalists

It's the Fall and I like to think of Sunny Rest Lodge. Why? Because it's a "naturalist" (AKA nudist) resort in the Poconos which has been there since WW2. The place is my idea of paradise. Ms. CK wants to get a cabin there when we retire. Which will be never since I don't plan on retiring. Well. maybe when I strike the mother lode...but I degress.
It's hidden away on a mountain top and tree-covered. People lease lots and pull trailers up there. It has an Olympic size pool. An enormous hot tub. A night club which opens on Fridays and Saturdays. Excellent security, although the g*ddm gliders and private aircraft buzz over head every hour.
Did I mention most of the people are walking around naked?
No outward sexual displays are allowed- because they encourage families to come. And anyone harassing another person there gets the boot immediately. But there are swingers aplenty, they just keep it in the cabin. You can see them around the pool in the day discussing last night's encounters in hushed tones.
It's my idea of heaven.

DVD: The Pet (2006)

Every now and then somebody tries to go one better than Just Jaeckin and do another variation on Story of O. Usually they fail for one reason or another. Gerald Damiano tried to do one with Story of Joanna, but his complex idea never survived a curtailed budget. With all the bondage videos floating around these days, it's not surprising someone would try and do the definitive female sex slave movie.
But The Pet isn't the one. It's not much of anything, to be truthful. The plot: a rich man decides to initiate a penniless young woman into becoming his human "pet". Once he signs her up to the program, he changes her name from Mary to "GG" (for Good Girl). She is led around naked on a leash and barks. At the same time, there is a sinister group of wealthy slavers who try to capture people from all over the world and sell them for pets or organ donors. And that about sums up the plot.
The worst problem is the actors. Andrea Edmondson is most definatley pleasing on the eyes, but the lady can't act her way our of a paper bag. It's telling that her best parts are when she becomes "GG" and no longer has to talk. Pierre Dulat looks the part of a jaded European aristocrat, but his accent is so pronounced that you can't understand a word of what he's saying. And what the hell is with the two hicks who brand the "pets"? They have the worst cowboy accents I've ever heard.
Visually, the film looks great. Lush sets, exquisite surroundings. Nice lighting. Director D. Stevens lists his principle occupation as "still photographer" and it shows. Sir, don't quit your day job.
As far as for an honest depiction of the Master/slave lifestyle, all I can say is "What the f*ck?" Ridicoulsly large brandings? Shock collars that look like metal ones? Slaves being sold for organs? Thank you, Mr. Stevens, for giving us a world a serial killer would enjoy.
So, don't waste your time renting or buying this movie. Go get the 1975 version of Story of O if you are into this sort of kink.

A Gathering of Goddesses

Last Saturday night Mrs. CK and I went to our local Domme party. This is a very select group which consists only of committed Domme couples in this area. Therefore, although the group's Yahoo account gets requests all the time, the moderator, Goddess M., is constantly turning down single men and people out of the geographic location. So what has resulted is a small, but very inamate group. Everyone knows each other and knows the rules. And when we go to these gatherings, Mrs. CK becomes Goddess CK.
There were about five Goddesses and five boys this year at the annual Halloween party. Down from last year's record of seven, but one Goddess had to deal with an illness and another had left the group. The dinner was good and the boys did our best to wait on each and every
Goddess. I think my knees are going to be sore from all the time I spent on them.
The other highlight of the evening was the confession. Here, each of the boys has to kneel and confess his inadeqacies to the assembled Goddesses and recieve punishment. Penance can be as little as issuing a report to them, or taking six of the best. I've seen some of the boys take their whacks from the Goddesses. They may not be of large stature, but those women have a mean back hand. At least this year I didn't piss them all off like I did last.
It was a fun evening and we look forward to next month's party.

Sex Tips from a Dominatrix b Mistress Patrica Payne

Congratulations America, it looks like BDSM might just be about to become "acceptable". At least that was my feeling when I found out that the oh-so-respectable publishing house of Harper-Collins had brought out this book. We can now wear our leather pride pins to board meetings and no longer worry about what our vanilla neighbors might think. Right.
Although Sex Tips is not the first book on BDSM written by a woman, it is one of the nicest. How can a book on BDSM be nice? Well, it can be if the author has a positive attitude and a good writing style. As a matter of fact, I don't think the "F" word is used anywhere in this book.
The book is also nicely illustrated with cartoons and other drawings. These are not the "how to" diagrams anyone who's ever read the Alex Comfort books knows about but much more whimsical. Sweet Gwendolyn with a wink.
Mistress Payne also has made this book a pitch to people with culture and refinement. As she puts it on page 107:

"There is no denying that a knotted Hermes silk print cravat holding a rolled and very sheer Wolfold stocking between the pouty lips of a beautiful subette is tres chic."

The over-lying concept of this book is that BDSM is fun. No obsessions with technique. No final benedictions on the greater significance of the Master/slave relationship in the universe. And, to tell you the truth, this is welcomed after years of "how-to" manuals. It's about time someone pointed out that the big reason most people get involved in bondage scenes is because they enjoy doing it.

Swing City

I've always been more of a casual observer when it comes to swingers. Having grown up in the 70's when swinging was something of a joke, I'd never given it much thought, other than watching some interviews on TV or reading the occasional lifestyle journal. But over the years, I've made a number of friends in the swing community. Through them, I've had a chance to learn more about what motivates the interest and why people get involved. And I have been to a few swinger events.
Two years ago, Mrs.CK and myself went to a large "Meet And Greet" organized by a local swinger group. I wish I could remember the name of the group putting on the MNG, but old age must be catching up to me. Anyway, it was in a huge hotel in an upscale Philadelphia suburban neighborhood. We had to register on-line in advance. The event was huge.
First of all, security at this MNG was impressive. You couln't get into it unless your name was cross-checked on a computer list. Once they found your name, you were given a wrist band which was needed to get and out of the ballroom where it was being held. No exceptions. And there were plenty of big, scary looking guys checking for those wrist bands as you went in and out. And no single men were allowed.
My original purpose was to looking into vending. At the time, I was working on the side for an adult themed store which did a lot of vending at fetish/bdsm events. It was my theory we should be looking into the swinger market since they seemed to have a lot more disposable income than the club kids who populate the urban fetish market. Thus, it was important I meet the organizers of the MNG, present my credentials, and leave some flyers for the store.
It took me a while, but I was able to locate the organizers. Upon making my pitch, I was told no one was allowed to do any vending whatsoever at these events. Why? They didn't want any of the locals to know what was going on at the hotel.
I looked around at all the women in Victoria Secret clothing and said, "Uh, sure thanks."
If the hotel management was clueless as to what was happening, they must've all been from Outer Mongolia.
From what I deduced later, it was an upscale crowd. Mosty people in the 35 and up age range, but I did meet a number of couples in their twenties. The highlight of the evening seemed to be a DJ and the dance floor. Not being much of a dancer myself, I soon left with Ms. CK.
Mrs. CK observed most of the men were dressed casual, but their women were wearing "hootchie mama" clothing. Her conclusion:"They're using their women for bait!"
I would welcome any comments from active swingers on their lifestyle.

TO LOVE TO SERVE TO OBEY (1999)y Vi Johnson

Among the many factions in the "scene" is the division between the Old Guard and the New. The OG traces it's roots back to the second world war and the whole leather and motorcycle culture that emerged from it. The Next Generation seems to have come of age during the rise of the internet and cheap PC's. The OG has a tendency to call the NG the "stand and model" crowd, while the young upstarts look at the elders as relics from the past.
But suprisingly little is known about the OG. At a time when any leather bar was subject to police harrasment, most of the OG found it prudent to keep as low a profile as they could.The OG was almost entirely gay. In some big cities, the police even had anti-gay vice squad units.
TLTSTO gives us a rare glimpse inside a world most know about only from reading Anne Rice novels. But if you expect one filled with eloquent slaves clad only in golden chains you will be in for a big disappointment. Vi Johnson lived the life of a thousand bondage videos and it isn't always pretty. This was before "erotic submission" became the source of material for countless daytime talk shows.
The book is written in the form of a diary. It covers the years 1980 through 1997, although some years are better documented than others. What began as an instruction from one of her dominants has produced an amaz ing document.
Vi talks freely of her relationships with two Mistresses. The first, Mistress Katherine, acquires her as a loan from Jill, her life-long partner. She remains with this woman for nearly two years. This woman was also a professional Domme. College-educated, Mistress Katherine is a fascinating woman who runs with a very elite crowd. At one point, a foreign dignitary offers her a suitcase of money for Vi.
Later she transfers her loyalty to Madam Jean, a well-to-do Hollywood housewife. She stays Jean's part-time slave for nearly ten years. Reading through this section of the book becomes very difficult as Madam Jean's treatment of her boarders on abuse. At one point she even threatens to kill her.
What adds believability to this book is it's depiction of the not-so-pretty side of the OG world. We see Mistress Katherine sinking into the stupor of a pot-fueled despair. Vi even goes on for several pages about a scene that nearly cost her life.
The book has a number of touching moments. Vi talks a lot about the death of her mother, one of the major influences in her life. At the close of the book are many sympathy notes she recievced from various friends and organizations. A few times she notes the passing of a friend, allowing us to realize just how much her own life has been affected by the passing of time.
One complaint about this book is the large number of people mentioned in it. Dozens of characters appear and disappeare in the course of the 300 pages, making you wish she'd put a play list at the beginning. Of course, the original intent of this was a private diary, avlible to only Vi and her Mistress. My other complaint is, even with all the names changed to "protect the guility", it wouln't be too dificult for some one with a good knowledge of what's been happening in the BDSM world to sit down and figure out who the people are she talks about.
It also would've been nice if Vi had spent more time talking about herself. She does mention her interest in photography at the beginning, but that rapidly fades into the background. She spends more time on her "vampire" obsessions, where she even goes so far to have fangs implanted into her mouth. About her life partner, Jill, she has little to say.
TLTSTO is a good look at a lifestyle that has been around a long time and seldom documented. It's also a refreshing dose of reality in a literature field dominated by fantasy.

MACHINE LOVE- The Genitortures

Those of you who think Marlyn Manson is the ultimate darkwave band should check this bunch out. Those of you who use Nine Inch Nails for scene music should look into the output of this wild bunch.
The Genitorturers have been around since the early 1990's. This is their 3rd CD release and follows the succesful 1998 release Sin City( and yes that is where I got the idea of the name for). The line-up incudes Racci,"Chains'', Evil D, and(the star of the show) Geni. Instrumental credits are not given, so I assume it's the same as on the last album.
The live shows of this band are something to behold. I've had the opportunity to see Geni and the boys in action and even the videos and stills are awesome. Live, the band puts on the kind of bondage show most death metal bands can only dream about. Once upon a time they even took volunteers from the audiences, now Geni brings her victims along.
Machine Love consists of only 8 songs and clocks in at 20 minutes which in the old days would have made it an "Extended Play"(EP ) . Also, 4 of the 8 are remixes of Sin City songs. Which gives us only 4 new songs. Why the lack of new material? Was there some compelling reason to get this CD into the stores?
The first song, "Stitch in Time", is OK, but not generally what you would expect as the opening theme. It shows Geni's voice at a good range, however, and I hope they can improve on it in concert. The second,"Touch Myself", is a retread of that Devinyl's 80's classic. This seems to be the band's attempt at humor and it works. Somehow, I don't think it's going to get much air play....The third song and title track, "Machine Love" is easily the best on the CD. This the one I'll be playing the most.
The 4 remixes, "Sin City", "One Who Feeds", "4 Walls Black", and "Asphyxiate", seem to have more of a techno-dance club feel to them. Making me wonder if that wasn't the point of the CD. They're good songs, but I prefer the originals.
The final number, "Procession", is the sort which put the Genitorturers on the map. Starting with a pulsating wall of sound it builds to intensity within seconds. It's not danceable, but you can feel the whip crack when this song plays.
This is a CD that will go into my dungeon play list. With the cover graphics- I can think of no where else to put it.

COPEing in Ohio

Last month I had the pleasure of attending the Central Ohio Perversion Excursion. In keeping with Citizen Kink's policy of not using names and locations I will merely say that it was somewhere in Ohio. The event was organized by Adventures In Sexuality, aPansexual Polyamorous Kink/Fun Ohio-based group for kinksters of various shades. It's been around a few years. This was a very well-organized and attended event which impressed me to no end.
First of all, I want to elaborate on the superb organization that went into this event. It was held in a hotel, but the actual event site was restricted to those who had paid in advance. You could'nt even buy a ticket at the door, so as to keep it from being defined as a public event. Even the location was taken from the website in the days leading up to it. And although COPE was held in a facility also used by the vanillas, no one was allowed into the event unless they possessed a wrist band or ID tag. The event space was secured in a long corridor and every care had been made to ensure there would be no uncovered windows or compromised access to it. All which made the attendees feel safe and secure.
On entering the event, you were greeted by a table of volunteers who had your name tags all ready with a packet full of surprises. The vestibule where the greeters were situated was also filled with exquisite donated toys and artworks which were being auctioned off for charity. A cafe was set-up through one door, where event-goers could relax and converse. Through the other door you were taken down the main corridor where classes were organized in the day and play rooms in the evening. At the end of the corridor was the merchant area.
I did get a chance to sit in on some of the classes and I was impressed. The talk on "military" style interregation scenes was superb. There was also a "Meet And Greet " for new people.
In the evening the classrooms became the play zone. The play spaces were packed, requiring the air conditioning to work overtime. All the bondage furniture was supplied by SB Twisted Designs and Lockwood designs
So what was the play like? Organized and carefully monitored. I didn't see one clueless newbie try to walk into someone's zone. As soon as any couple (or more) had finished using the particular piece, it was carefully whipped down and sanitized. One of the more interesting scenes I observed that night was a lady hanging solo from a suspension rack while she tied and untied herself into different positions. I was a little surprised to see some actual sex mixed in with the bdsm. On the Eastern Coast, it's a little unusual for the sex to be interplayed with the bdsm, at least in a public scene. On the other hand, I didn't see any of the annoying fetish barbies who can make costal fetish events a bore.
And kudos for having the sense to have food catered into the cafe at midnight. There were plenty of hungry kinksters who were mighty grateful to all those pizzas.

Fetishes: A Documentary (1996)

Most of us in the "scene" are aware of professional Dominatrixes. As a matter of fact I would speculate that more than just a few of us even pay to use their services. Well, maybe just a few. Definitely not me or you and you, or you, or him, or even that guy standing over at the bar leashed to the girl young enough to be his granddaughter... In a more perfect world, no man would face discrimination and shame because it was known he was his wife/girlfriend's love-slave. In the meantime it's kept behind closed doors and that is where the ProDommes flourish.
So now we have the DVD version of Nick Broomfield's documentary film about the day-to-day existence of a bondage parlor. In true documentary style, Broomfield troops into New York City's own Pandora's Box and begins to film away. He was given access to film inside the various fantasy rooms and dungeons. Also included are interviews with the professional Dommes who work there.
Broomfield makes no attempt to hide his presence in this film. All the questions are asked off-camera so that the interviewees always face the viewer as they talk. You easily see him and his film crew working their way around the dungeon sets many times. He doesn't try to look all that photogenic, wearing jeans and a T-shirt most of the time.
Part of the film consists of his interviews with the Dommes who work at Pandora's Box. None of them appear to be older than 35 with the exception of Mistress Raven, who runs the place. All of them seem to enjoy their work. One even mentions she was married for awhile. It's hilarious to hear one young mistress talk about how she grew-up attending a private religious school (guess it didn't take).
The clients also make it into the show. Most won't let their faces be shown for obvious reasons, so you are forced to listen to interviews of men wearing big leather masks. Broomfield informs us at one point that most of the clients are wealthy businessmen. However we do get to meet one female client.
The scenes. You've been waiting for this part... I know. There are several sessions at Pandora's shown in the film and they range from the comical to the scary. The best involves a young lady who describes herself as a "professional submissive". Broomfield is able to film her encounter with two Dommes from start to finish. First he interviews her, even talks to her during the torture, and finally asks her how she feels later ("drained"). He also notes that women who pay to use their services are so rare that the Dommes vie for the chance to do them.
At one point, Fetishes almost turns into some kind of Errol Morris documentary. We see a time lapse security camera's hall view and get to watch the daily activity of Pandora's. In speeded-up time an endless parade of men leashed to latex goddesses shoot through the corridor.
Then there's the bizarre moment of truth where a Domme flips out on camera. It occurs right after she does a "wrestling" scene with a client who had expected he would be allowed to win. When she starts to win, the guy storms out of the room. The Domme then proceeds to walk back and forth in the room shouting about how she doesn't have to "take this shit". And people wonder why the Pro's are not so friendly....
As far as the specifics go Fetishes is o.k. There aren't that many chapter stops, so that makes it a little difficult to review it. There's no commentary on the disc, but Broomfield supples that as part of the regular soundtrack.
Additional bits includes a filmography and production notes.
Fetishes may not be big on the reasons men pay to be beaten by powerful women, but it at least gives you a look into their world.

In Search of Girl/Girl Erotica

My favorite form of erotica is girl/girl. Called "Lesbian", "Girl-On-Girl", and various other terms I will not mention, it has always been the ideal in my mind. I refer to it as G/G because most of the time the women involved are bisexual, not lesbian.
I think my first encounter with it was discovering a Penthouse magazine in the late 70's with featured two models doing each other. I'm in my fifties, but I can remember finding that magazine as if it was yesterday. Given the preponderance of G/G scenarios in Penthouse pictorials over the years, I don't think I'm the only one with this desire.
Naturally, the best way to realize your fetish is to find some one who shares it. In the case of G/G erotica, it can be as easily as finding a bisexual woman to marry. I say "easy" as a joke because real life is never easy. From the men I do know who married bi-women, it can open up all sorts of other challenges. See the 1999 movie The Sex Monster for what can go wrong.
So what does the man who gets off watching G/G action do if he's not able to meet his fetish half way? Well, you could go and get a job at a lesbian bar, but I doubt they'd hire you. Forget about hanging around your local chapter of Club Clit; the women who work the door are skilled at dealing with the voyeurs who try to get in. If you have the money you might even hire some strippers for a private show. But it would get pretty expensive and, after all, they're only in it for the money. What other options might you find?
The Internet. Goddess bless it. Where, for a small cost, you can see your innermost G/G fantasies on the computer screen. But what website do you go to? Where can you get the most visual for your time? Which one will show you bliss and not transmit a virus to your computer? Thank your lucky stars Citizen Kinkster has arrived to help! Here are some of my recommendations:

• The Encylopedia of Lesbian Movie Scenes. There is a divine force watching out for us in this universe and his name is Niclas. He's assembled the finest collection of G/G encounters from film and TV across the planet. He keeps out the porn trash and for that I am grateful. I don't get the fascination with Viv Thomas, but she's just not my style.
• Lesbian Obsession. David from Sweden has been posting pictures and downloads from Rapidshare for several years now. A lot of it seems focused on younger women, but he does hit a home run every now and then with some current film clips.
• What The Boys Want. I hesitate to list this website as it is a pay-per-view one. However, it has some of the best amateur videos I have ever witnessed.

Now let me say a word about "amateurs". There are real amateur G/G videos which have been taken by people eager to show their encounters to the world. There is also "gonzo" erotica which is trashy videos professionals try to pass off as "reality". In my mind, 90% of what you will find at an adult video store qualifies as gonzo. But there are websites which actively try to get ordinary people to put up videos. Sometimes they even get G/G videos. For a the G/G watcher, here are the best of the (mostly) free sites:

• YuVuTu. Selling itself as "real porn by real amateurs", this is the best of the lot. The front page has the latest submissions and the editiors try to keep the spammers to a minimum. Not a lot of G/G material, but what they do have is first rate.
• YouPorn. You have dig around a bit on this one, but hidden gems are there to be found.
• Megaerotic. See above. A little bit better assortment, but they only allow you six free views a day.

What makes for a good amateur G/G video? Here are some observations:

• The women should look realistic. I don't mean they have to look like your great aunt Ethel in the shower, but their breasts should at least flatten when they lay down. I've had enough of surgically-enhanced, twenty-year-old fools.
• If there is a man in the room with the camera he should make his presence as invisible as possible. No getting in front of the camera to ruin our observation of what the women are doing, no stupid hick commentaries- we can see it for our selves! And stay out of the action unless you're trying to make a "threesome" video.
• Carefully lit sets and professional make-up fool no one. It's an "amateur"? Then why the hell does Stacy's lipstick never smear?
• No gestures to the back row. We don't need to see girl A's tongue hanging out all the time at girl B.

It's been said that a fetish can never truly be realized. Perhaps this is why the G/G made by and for lesbians (it's rare, but out there) so little resemble what you'll find in the "lesbian" section of an adult book store.
(The picture is from the Canadian TV series Strangers)