“Kink,” a documentary about the porn web site Kink.com, debuted in January at the Sundance Film Festival. Yesterday, the film, which explores the largest BDSM online porn empire, released a new trailer in anticipation of a limited release. I’ve heard complaints about the film — it’s “boring” (which is unfortunately always something that some kinky folks say in order to be dismissive); it doesn’t address allegations of abuse at Kink.com — but I’ll see it regardless. Christina Voros directed “Kink” and James Franco executive produced, so you better believe I want to know how they handled the material. Also, this probably goes without saying, but the trailer is NSFW! [Queerty; First Showing]
These days, I may be the queen of TMI, but I wasn’t always so comfortable talking about sex, let alone asking for what I wanted in bed. In the last few years, I’ve been a lot more openminded and in the process learned which kinky activities get me off — but asking for them? Sometimes I still get tongue-tied. And I know I’m not alone. Lots of guys have told me they’d like for their female partners to give them a little more direction in bed, while I know some women who have confessed to being shy about giving it. So, how can guys encourage their female partners to be vocal about their desires in a way that’s not pressuring? Let’s start with a few basic, often wanted but not always requested, sexytime activities…
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Professional volleyball player Gabrielle Reese is promoting a new memoir, My Foot Is Too Big For The Glass Slipper, which hops on the bandwagon of a somewhat popular theme for memoirs-by-strong-ladies these days: she says her life and marriage have improved by being “submissive” to her husband, pro surfer Laird Hamilton. Keep reading »
I flogged a man last night.
Despite my Bettie Page-lite haircut and a propensity for sexual experimentation, this is not something I have done before. I did have a very brief flirtation with the field of professional dominatrix-ing, but I never got beyond the training phase due to both a poor collegiate work ethic and feeling massively silly. And in my personal life I tend to swing firmly toward the “S” in the “D/S” yin-yang.
But in all my genital adventuring, I have never gone for the type of melodramatic, overwrought boning that I think of as “sex nerdery.” Spank me, call me names, hold me down, but don’t make me wear some kind of pleather costume or call you “master” while you do it. Keep reading »
I texted him as soon as I woke up.
“What do you want me to wear today?”
I brushed my teeth and washed my face while I waited for him to text me back.
“White button-down shirt. Tuck it in. Your jeans. Flats. Put your hair in a ponytail. Send me a photo.”
I dressed as instructed, then stood before the wall-length mirror in my apartment’s hallway. Smiling into the mirror, I snapped a photo on my iPhone and sent it to Ben*.
Thirty seconds later, a text message: “Very nice.” Then I knew I could leave for work.
Ben was not abusive. I was not being hurt, nor was I unhappy. We were in a dominant/submissive relationship — or playing at one, anyway — and following his orders got me unbelievably, unbelievably turned on. Keep reading »