Guest Post from The Pervocracy: "The Missing Stair."

Please note: The following is a guest post by  The Pervocracy.  

Have you ever been in a house that had something just egregiously wrong with it?  Something massively unsafe and uncomfortable and against code, but everyone in the house had been there a long time and was used to it?  "Oh yeah, I almost forgot to tell you, there's a missing step on the unlit staircase with no railings.  But it's okay because we all just remember to jump over it."

Some people are like that missing stair.

When I posted about a rapist in a community I belonged to, although I gave almost no details about the guy except "he's a rapist," I immediately got several emails from other members of that community saying "oh, you must mean X."  Everyone knew who he was!  Tons of people, including several in the leadership, instantly knew who I meant.  The reaction wasn't "there's a rapist among us!?!" but "oh hey, I bet you're talking about our local rapist."  Several of them expressed regret that I hadn't been warned about him beforehand, because they tried to discreetly tell new people about this guy.  Others talked about how they tried to make sure there was someone keeping an eye on him at parties, because he was fine so long as someone remembered to assign him a Rape Babysitter.

People had gotten so used to working around this guy, to accommodating his "special requirements," that they didn't feel like there was an urgent problem in their community.  They did eventually expel him, but it was after months of it being widely shared knowledge that he was a rapist and had done other unethical sexual things as well.

I think there were some people in the community who were intentionally protecting him, but there were more who were de facto protecting him by treating him like a missing stair.  Like something you're so used to working around, you never stop to ask "what if we actually fixed this?"  Eventually you take it for granted that working around this guy is just a fact of life, and if he hurts someone, that's the fault of whoever didn't apply the workarounds correctly.

"Fixing" doesn't always mean throwing someone out. (Although in the case of sex groups I think people are way too timid about that.  Being invited to sex parties should be a positive show of confidence in your character, not some sort of default human right.)  Sometimes a person can be "fixed" by talking with them bluntly about their behavior, giving them specific rules to follow, or putting them on notice that they have one strike left.  You don't always have to get rid of "missing stair" people, but you do have to work with the person, not around them.


This isn't just about sex.  Just about every workplace has that one person who doesn't do their job, but everyone's grown accustomed to picking up their slack.  A lot of social groups and families have that one person.  The person whose tip you quietly add a couple bucks to.  (Maybe more than a couple, after how they talked to the server.)  The person you don't bother arguing with when they get off on one of their rants.  The person you try really, really hard not to make angry, because they're perfectly nice so long as no one makes them angry.

I know not all these people can be fixed, and sometimes they can't be escaped either.  But the least you can do is recognize them, and that they are the problem.  Stop thinking that your inability to accomodate them is the problem.


This isn't just about individuals, either.  Everyone who says "I don't want to be a victim-blamer, but girls should know frat parties aren't safe places" is treating rape culture like a missing stair.  Everyone who says "it's an ugly fact, but only women who don't make trouble make it in this business" is treating sexual harassment like a missing stair.  Everyone who says "I don't like it either, but that's the way things are," and makes no move to question the way things are, is jumping over a missing stair somewhere.

Fixing staircases is a long and difficult and uncertain process.  But let's at least stop blaming each other for not jumping well enough.

There IS Fetlife Drama, and It DOES Have a Victim (Cross-posted from Fetlife)

Stay away from Fetlife drama.
That seems to be the rule these days.
You see a post that's a little too abrasive with the finger pointing? Stay away from it! You see a post that's a little too specific with the calling out of improper behavior from a certain individual? Stay away from it! You see a post that's a little too familiar to the people you know in your local community? Stay away from it!

I've written at length about my feelings on the word "drama," and how we use it far too much to describe—and dismiss—issues and events we should be taking far more seriously in the scene.
But let's face it. Sometimes, there is drama on Fetlife. The posts I'm talking about are the ones which are not there to help anyone, not there to improve anything, they're there so someone can feel better for ranting and raging and kicking up a whole lot of dirt, for no other reason than to assuage their own misery.

And yeah, sure, a lot of people call that "looking for support." There's nothing wrong with coming here looking for support. Your friends want to be there for you.
But let me tell you a little eensie-beensie fact about trying to find support on Fetlife: if your appeal is not 100% sincere and 100% genuine? After a while, it willcome back to bite you in the ass. It may take a while, but it will happen. People will reread that post of yours, and realize you're not trying to prop yourself up, you're trying to punch someone else down, because they dared to piss you off somehow.
That's drama.

Some of us have been here long enough to recognize it mighty quick. But then...then there's the aftermath.
People start judging everyone involved over the "drama". They start painting everybody with the same brush.
Both exes of a now non-couple, where one is talking shit about the other? They're now both causing drama. Everyone involved in a dispute? They're allcausing drama. Hell, an entire group of friends may now be flung and marinated with the dreaded drama sauce—because one or two of them are spreading around the evil drama.
"I'm staying away from those people, they're causing drama." "That couple with the drama, they need to learn." "Why can't that group stop it with the drama?"

Take a better look, people. Take a better look, and ask yourself: Who is the one causing the drama? Is it the person who is trying to get over that bad break up, the people who are trying to solve a conflict privately, the ones who are following some kind of rules of engagement to get the matter settled as quickly as possible for the betterment of the community?
Or is it those who are plastering that shit all over Fetlife with their posts?

I read these posts, and I feel like I'm back in high school. So-and-so has to tell me their side of the "story" before the other person can get to me, so I believe them first.
(As an aside, does this actually work with some people?...What am I saying...of course it works, because some of us have never left high school mentality. If this is you, stop it. Please.)

Here's the thing: people who are affected by this drama typically have very little recourse other than to suffer through it. They cannot control the people who are kicking up shit—no one can really control the behavior of others, only their own—so they keep their heads down and ignore it as much as possible.
And yet, they are marinated in the drama sauce, with no control over the outcome.

Drama is treated like a game around here, which is a sad fact in and of itself. It's a spectator sport.
There's often two sides: The cause...and the casualty.
Look what's going on. Listen to who's saying what, who's writing what...and who's trying their best to rise above. Don't make assumptions about the silent party.
You may just realize later, you were wrong.
And remember, nobody is immune from the drama game. You may just find your number called up next, whether you like it or not, and let me tell you, those exits off the field are hard to find.

My First Time With A Hitachi

Yesterday was the first time I have ever tried a hitachi.
It was also one of the most, if not the most, surreal scenes of my life.

I went over to visit some kinky close friends: my friend The Brat, and her Master, who is also my play partner.
Most of the visit was just hanging out with my slavey friend, talking, laughing, and commiserating how evil our respective Masters can be. But after we went out to eat, we had some unexpected time on our hands...and I knew my friend had a Hitachi.
"Would you mind," I asked hesitantly, "showing me your hitachi?"
I'd never seen a hitachi up close. Everyone keeps telling me I HAVE TO GET ONE and it is the most AMAZING THING EVAH and the orgasms you get from it are OUT OF THIS STRATOSPHERE. But you know, I was skeptical.
"Sure you can see it," she said to me. "C'mon. It's in the dungeon."

She was a little embarrassed at first to find it still had some residual hot sauce on it from her own scene with it the night before. But after cleaning it up nice and tidy, she handed it to me.
"It comes with two speeds," she showed me, "but we have a variable controller on it, see?" She began to turn the dial on the controller left and right, and let me feel for myself how the buzzing ebbed and flowed.
Then her Master walked in.

"You're not gonna know what it feels like unless you really try it out," he said. Then he threw the gauntlet on the table: "I bet I can make you come through your underwear with that thing."
"Bet you can't," I said.
He pulled my shorts down to my ankles, put a condom on the hitachi head, bent me over a padded bench, and pressed the thing home.

I struggled for a minute. It was...humiliating, to say the least. But once I realized he was not going to stop until he was damn good and ready, I gave up, and settled in.
But I was not going to come.
"How long has he been doing this?" I asked my friend, who was now sitting on the bean bag in the corner, looking nonchalantly at her phone screen.
"A few minutes," she said. "Why, you want to time how long it takes you to come?"
"I want to time how long it takes him to give up."
"I wouldn't make that bet if I were you. He can keep going for a long time."

Six minutes. That's how long it took him to realize he could not make me come with that thing. Six minutes, and during those six minutes, my friend took a bunch of pictures of me looking bored and giving her the finger.

He gave up, put the hitachi down, tortured me in other ways for a few more minutes, made a bunch of vague threats, and left.
As soon as he left, I asked my friend: "Can play with that thing some more?"
"Sure," she said. "Don't mind me, I'm just looking at my phone."

So I started some self exploration with this hitachi toy. It was a little bit harrowing, and kinda exciting at the same time, knowing her Master might walk back inside any second, and if he did, he would be greeted with the vision of me with my legs spread, my panties pushed to the side, the hitachi shoved well up my cunt.

Now this is where things started getting surreal.
I was getting really into it, really enjoying myself...when my friend, that lovable BRAT, started playing the theme song to the "Will It Blend" videos.

Here's the thing: Some time ago, Husband threatened to train me to get wet every time I hear the "Will It Blend" theme song—and he has been making good on his threat. I can't even remember why he decided to do this to me, or what brought it on. But in my opinion, it's one of the most despicable things he's ever done to me, and that's saying something.
And I, stupid me, I made the mistake of telling my friend what Husband has been up to lately.

When I heard that "Will It Blend" song come on in the dungeon, I was snapped back into reality.
"Really?" I yelled. "Really?"
"I'm just trying to help Husband," she said sweetly. She said some more things about reinforcing my relationship and being a good helper, I think; but I'm not sure exactly what she said, because I was too busy cursing her out at that point.
She returned to looking at her phone screen as if nothing had happened.

It took me a while to come, but I did. With the knowledge her Master could walk in on me at any moment, and the Will It Blend song playing in the background, I came.
It was...nice. I'm not gonna say my orgasm with that hitachi was any better than the ones I get with my own vibrator. It was about the same, I think.
But damn that scene took a surreal turn I hadn't been expecting.

I didn't tell her Master I had come with the hitachi after he'd left the dungeon; I let my friend tell him after I'd gone home.
Frankly, I consider that tidbit a victory for me.
I usually suffer for my victories later. But right now? Score one for Shelby.

Addendum: When I told Husband how my morning went, he immediately told me he's now going to buy a hitachi with a variable speed controller, and find a way to program the thing to work in harmony with the Will It Blend Song.
NOOooo

The Dear Shelby Answer

I read different variations of this question in advice columns all the time, and invariably, I disagree with the answer. So today, I'm going to play advice columnist, and give a D/s version of what I think the appropriate response should be.
Keep in mind, given my own personal dynamic, the Husband here is the Dom, and the wife is the sub.

Dear Shelby,
I just found out my best friend has been putting the moves on my wife. While she has not gone out of her way to welcome these advances, she has not shot them down, either. What's worse, she never told me about them; she didn't want to ruin our relationships.
I found out about my so-called best friend's advances on my wife through looking through her cell phone texts. I know I was snooping; I know that was wrong of me. But now I don't know what to do. Should I confront my wife? Confront my (ex) friend?
Sincerely,
Confused Husband

(Typical advice columnist answer: You were totally wrong for snooping through your wife's texts, now you have to come clean and apologize, tell her you know about the texts, go to a therapist, blah blah blah)

My answer:
Dear Confused Husband,
First of all, you did nothing wrong by checking your wife's phone. That is YOUR RIGHT as her husband. In your house, you are the top of the chain of command, and as such, it is your job to make sure everything and everyone under you is running smoothly. Spot checks like this should be expected.
In other words, you do NOT owe your wife an apology for looking through her phone.
Second of all: your wife should have come to you as soon as the first advancement was made by your friend. Again, you are the top of the chain of command, and you cannot do your job unless you have all the information available.
However—and this may be hard to hear—if your wife was, for some reason, too afraid or hesitant to come to you with this, this is something for which you must take responsibility. You must find out why your wife's first, instinctive reaction was not to come to you. Did she fear you would lose control? Did she fear she would lose you? 
Are her fears justified?
Did she want to keep the possibility of a more intimate relationship possible with your friend?
The only way you're going to get answers to your questions is to talk to your wife. Make it clear you offer no apology for going through her phone, but do express regret for not making it clear, from the beginning, you expect her to come to you with these matters posthaste. Stay calm and in control of your emotions and the situation. Listen to what she has to say, but make it obvious in your demeanor and attitude that while you take her wants into consideration, whatever happens now will ultimately be up to you.
Make a contract between the two of you outlining what you expect of her in the future, with clear guidelines—and exemptions, if any. Perhaps you don't mind if your wife has some fun on the side with your friend...or perhaps you do. Either way, she should always feel safe to come to you with whatever is on her mind.
The last thing is to punish your wife soundly to assuage any guilt she may still be harboring for disappointing you.
The punishment will hurt in the short term, but in the long run, it will help both of you move on, and learn from this experience.

Guest Author Appearance: Dylan Cross

You guys know I'm on FB, right? I don't do very much on it. 

(Except play backgammon. I play way too much backgammon. So if you want to chat with me? Get on FB, friend me, and challenge me to a game of backgammon. I can't resist. It's a problem.)

One of things I do enjoy about FB is making new friends. This is how I met Dylan Cross. He's a fellow self-published erotica writer, and highly prolific. 

The following is an excerpt from his latest book, Fair Trade. Here is what the book is about:

Corporate VP Joanna Barnes is condescending, domineering and micromanaging. She belittles and insults the workers beneath her. In other words, she's a bitch.

Her behavior at her industry's trade show is no different. Her poor intern, Steve, has been on the receiving end of her verbal abuse all day. But, when the two of them get behind closed doors in the hotel room... it will be Steve's turn to call the shots, as he literally

brings the curvy executive to her knees...

And here is the excerpt:

Joanna slipped out of her skirt, let it drop, and then moved it aside with her foot. She reached behind her back and unhooked the custom-made bra... affording herself a sigh of bliss as her considerable breasts were released from twelve hours of confinement in their lacy prison. Then, finally, she hooked her thumbs beneath the waistline of her panties and pulled them down, taking care not to snag her underwear on her pumps.

She stood. From experience, Joanna guessed that his order to strip "everything" didn't include her silky black stockings or her slutty footwear.

She'd guessed correctly. "Come over here," he now ordered. "On your hands and knees. Crawl." She got down on all fours and began feeling her way across the plush carpet. Her pendulous 44DD breasts swung to and fro as she advanced toward him like a stealthy cougar—a ripe analogy, she reflected, considering the fifteen-year age difference
between herself and her intern.

When she got about five feet away, he made her stop. “On your back..."

If you liked the excerpt, click on over to the Amazon product page, or the Smashwords product page if you don't have a kindle.

With Respect to Harry Potter

Some submit for power.

Some submit out of love.

And some embrace submission like an old friend.

*My son just had surgery, so posts will be light until he's recovered. Thank you for your understanding.

My Version: To Spank or not to Spank?

I read a blog called Daddyfiles, written by a brilliant and funny guy, who's seen his fair share of controversy. He's recently written a piece about spanking children.
Now, before anyone goes off hating me, I realize this is a serious issue and many parents have strong feelings on the matter. That being said, I couldn't resist playing with the original post a little bit. My additions/tweaks are in brackets:

I'm still going to include spanking as one of the tools in my [Dom] arsenal.

I use spanking as a last resort when all else has failed, [or when I can't resist flogging her ass]. I [love] doing it. Anyone who enjoys spanking their [sub] is a sicko [and I use the label as an endearment]. But sometimes, with certain [subs], it's effective. I say certain [subs] because the decision to spank a [sub] has to be taken on a case-by-case  basis. You can give some [subs] a stern talking to or a timeout and they learn the lesson. [But what's the fun in that?] With others, if you spank them their behavior could just get worse [and then you have to bring out the whip]. You need to know your [sub] and do what you think will be most effective.

With my [sub], timeouts [in the cage] will usually do the trick. But there are instances when they just don't cut it. Sending [her] to [her] cage with all of her [sex] toys doesn't do a whole lot of good [she'll just play with herself for hours], and taking away [her] favorite [dildos] only seems to have an effect for a couple of minutes while the bad behavior continues [and she still plays with herself in the cage anyway]. So if all the usual methods of discipline have failed and [she's] still being awful, [she] might get a smack on the butt. Nothing that's going to leave a [horrible welt] mark or really hurt [her] [if I'm not feeling like it], but more like a surprising jolt that gets [her] attention and lets [her] know what [she's] doing isn't acceptable.

I don't judge those who choose not to spank. But many members of the "no spank" contingent certainly like to cast judgment on [Doms] who do. And that's what irks me. [I mean, how the hell can you even call yourself a Dom if you don't spank?]

Sorry, but you can only do so much "deflection" and "positive corrections" before you become ineffective as a disciplinarian. I understand it's tough these days when spanking your [sub] can seemingly land you in court or in front of family protective services, but I refuse to change my [Dom] style just because of political correctness run amok [or for people who don't understand the BDSM lifestyle].

Spanking is a useful tool for [Doms] if done properly. [And it's fun! Spank a sub today! And make her thank you for it!]

Thank you, Aaron, for permission to do this.

The Generality of "Bondage"

For those who don't know (yeah it seems ridiculous to me too that someone might still not know this, but still) the B in "BDSM" stands for "Bondage." The dictionary defines bondage thusly: "The state of being bound or subjected to some external power or control."

Here's the thing: that word, and definition, is about as broad as defining "food" as "something you eat."

There are SO MANY different kinds of bondage you can use during sex--and I'm just talking about the physical kind, the type that needs tools and setup. I'm not even getting into the mental and emotional bondage a person can impose to get their  partner to do as she (or he) is told. No, I'm talking rope, cuffs, cages....some kind of bondage is usually the first thing on the checklist in any BDSM scene, because it brings home what is really going on in the situation, by using a person's body as a prop...or maybe I should say, as an introduction. If a BDSM scene can tell a story, bondage is the prologue, and it tells the story through the body.

Take wrists, for example. Wrists are an obvious first choice for restraints: bind the wrists, and you've effectively limited a person's ability to defend themselves with their hands. The insides of the wrists are very sensitive, and respond immediately to stimuli. But it's the psychological affect that makes wrist binding so fundamental in any BDSM scene: it quickly clarifies exactly how little choice (and power) the sub has. Just going through the motions of binding the wrists will usually send strong feelings of alarm and excitement straight to the sub's brain, resulting in a surge in chemicals: adrenaline, endorphins...usually a combination of both.

But HOW you apply the bondage is also very important, and can be a very intricate process.

Take rope. Rope is a very popular way to bind someone; there's a reason Shibari exists, after all. But there are also so many different kinds of rope: there's nylon, there's hemp, there's cotton, there's mooring...there's strand rope, plaid rope, braided rope...and they will all feel different against the skin.

Or you can try leather. Leather straps, leather cuffs, leather with buckles, leather with velcro, leather with zippers, leather you pull on, leather you tie on...it's really boundless.

Metal. Metal covers a lot of ground. You want to try chain? Okay. Thick or thin? Long or short? Eyebolts or hooks? D-Rings, buckles, or both? Or how about cuffs? Safety release--yes or no? What about wire? Mesh? What about maybe even a cage? How big? One that fits under the bed, or one that takes up a tiny corner of a room?

Sometimes, the choice of bondage technique is much more important, and takes a lot more thought, than deciding to try BDSM in the first place.