Offensive or Hot?

This cover of Vogue is getting a lot of attention. Women's advocacy groups around the world, including the National Organization for Women in the U.S., are arguing that the cover photo sexualizes and glamorizes domestic violence and rape.

Huh?  I just don't see it.

Okay, I don't get why the guy is apparently sucking on his own finger, but that is beside the point.

What I see is a very hot depiction of consensual sexual domination.

Let me be clear.  I am not an advocate of domestic violence or rape in any way. I can say from first hand experience that there is nothing sexy about rape and there is nothing erotic about domestic violence.

That's not what this photo is showing. It's obvious because there is no sense of fear in this photo. No look of fear on her face, no panic in her eyes.

Just as some of those women's groups are upset at what they perceive as the sexualization of domestic violence, I am deeply offended by their efforts to pervert sexual domination and submission into something violent and dirty. It's not. They fact that they can't see that this photo is obviously not about violence is also disturbing.

I'm not being facetious when I say that I suspect they have been so sheltered, sexually speaking, that they cannot even understand what a full, passionate, exciting, varied, and invigorating sex life can be. To them, anything that's not plain vanilla is evil and an affront to women. They are so uneducated, deprived or intolerant that even french vanilla (which is all this photo is, really) is scary for them.

What's next? Are we getting to the point where if a man even touches a woman  somewhere other than her hand without her screaming, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" that it will be considered a sexual assault? Needless to say, I think it's going too far.

The women's movement is all about allowing women to have choices. That also means that women should have the right to choose to be sexually dominated by a man without the implication that she must have a psychological issue deeply rooted in a troubled childhood. And it means that the man she chooses to engage with sexually in that regard is not a rapist.  Oh yeah, and he's not a psycho for liking it, either.

Unfortunately for the prudes of the world, they can no longer say that women (and men) who enjoy BDSM to any degree are a kinky fringe minority with a sick sense of sexuality.  Fifty Shades of Grey debunked that myth. Millions of people are either into it or turned on by it and want to try it. Millions of people don't see it as rape or domestic violence. Because it's not.

The range of "perfectly normal" in human sexuality is broad. We're just learning that some of what we used to think was really kinky and unusual is actually much more common and, yes, normal.

I'm not a pervert for wishing I were the woman in that photo (but I'd pick a different guy) or for loving a good, hard, hair-pulling, ass-slapping, gagged fuck. The people who try to make me and millions of others feel dirty for liking it - they are the perverts.

Your thoughts?

Fifty Shades and a Friend

I finally broke down and read Fifty Shades of Grey, by E.L. James.  Actually, I read that one and Fifty Shades Darkness and I'm in the middle of the third book of the trilogy, Fifty Shades Freed. I was going to read them on vacation  next month, but a girlfriend of mine read the trilogy and she really wanted me to read it, too, and give her my opinion.

She knows about the blog, but she has never read it, doesn't have the URL, doesn't know about the infidelity part, and she doesn't know about Kat. In short, she knows I have a blog that has some explicit sex in it, but that's about it. I would love to give her the URL and let her read to her heart's content, but you know I can't take that risk.

Anyway, I'll be writing a review of the Fifty Shades books when I finish the trilogy, which will be soon. Don't worry, if you haven't read them yet and you're planning to read them later, I'll give you a spoiler alert.
she starts talking about them on the phone.

"Can you believe how controlling he is?! I can't imagine being monitored wherever I go and whoever I"m with," she says. She's referring to one of the main characters in the book, Christian Grey.

Welcome to my world, I think. Imagine trying to have an affair under that scrutiny.  It's not easy.


I wonder if she has any idea that Hubby is as obsessed with that as Christian Grey. Well, at least Hubby has a reason not to trust me.

She goes on to talk about the BDSM lifestyle and she tells me Googled it, doing some research, and it looks like how the book describes it is pretty realistic.

I smile, glad that we're talking on the phone and she can't see the look on my face.

"Really?" I ask, pretending I don't know anything about it, and wondering if she'll ever now that my research has been a bit more...uh....hands on.

"Yes!" she exclaims. "And have you noticed that, since you've been reading it, you feel closer to your husband?  More like when you first met?"

"Sure," I answer, trying to sound convincing. "I have been sharing it with Hubby as I go along.  He knows the story line."

"But has it helped your sex life?" she whispers.  I can hear her little girl in the background.

"A bit," I respond, trying to sound coy, like I'm embarrassed to talk about it. What I really want to say is No, It hasn't had an impact on my sex life with Hubby at all, but I've been horny as hell for my lover for days and he's "not available."  Again.  Still.  Whatever.


"Well, all the women I've talked to who have read it say it's made a big difference in their marriage."

I have this image of ice queen housewives around the world taking off their frosty chastity belts and finally giving their desperate husbands some sex. Well done, E.L. James. You have accomplished what men haven't been able to do for centuries and what Masters & Johnson have been unable to do for decades.

Then she asks a question I don't expect. "If you had to pick a safe word, what would it be?" she giggles.

This comes from the book, when our horny little heroine has to pick a safe word (book 3).

"Rutabaga," I answer.  She laughs.

"Well," I say, "It has to be a word that would not come up in the course of normal conversation in that context."

"What about 'Red'?" she asks. "Like in the first book."

"Red is a bad safe word.  It could very likely come up in that situation," I say authoritatively, regretting it the second it's out of my mouth.

I remember the Dom I had when I was 20 who made me beg him to whip my inner thighs until the welts were bright red. Not pink, but red. I'm instantly wet.

I can hear her smile on the other end of the line. "Ms. Kat," she coos, "It sounds like you know what you're talking about."

I laugh. "Hardly," I say. "You know Hubby.  Can you imagine him doing that?  I just have the feeling that 'rutabaga' is as safe a word as there is."

"What about 'Popsicle'?" she asks.

Popsicle is the safe word Ana picked in book 3. All I can think about is that same Dom who tortured me by fucking me with a Popsicle.  Then when it was all melted (which didn't take long), he ate my pussy until I came three times.  The third time was so intense I was begging him to stop, but he wouldn't. He waited until I was crying, then he climbed on top and fucked me. I don't think I've ever been so grateful for a cock in my life.

I was pretty sure I shouldn't tell her that I've experienced the word 'Popsicle' coming up during sex, because I've also licked plenty of nice hard cocks like Popsicles, too.  Now I'm uncomfortably wet and my pussy is twitching.  I need to end this conversation.

"Popsicle would be an excellent safe word," I say definitively.

She laughs again and tells me that I need to hurry up and finish that last book so we can get together and talk about it. Then she asks about the blog, how it's going, and so on.  I answer non-noncommittally like I always do. We exchange a few more pleasantries and  the conversation ends for now.

I'm relieved.

Maybe I should finish that third book now.

Obey the Kitty....and Other Naughty Thoughts

I was just reading an email from a PWK reader who's going to be in San Francisco next week and wants to know if I'm free for a roll in the hay.  I know what you're thinking.  Kat, do you ever hook up with men who send proposals via email like that?

No comment.

But that's not the point. To the right of his email was the standard column of Google ads and one of them said, "Obey the Kitty."  Meow.  Now, that caught my attention. The ad didn't give much information to tell me what it was about, and I didn't want to click on it (I was just lazy), so I guess I'll never know, but it did get me thinking.

Obey the Kitty.

There's another reader who communicates with me regularly who has taken to calling me Kitten, which is unusual because most people don't call me Kitten. Kat, Kitty, Baby are common.  Cunt, whore, and bitch come up, too, mostly from the guys I block and the ones I report to the police. Whenever I see a message start with "Kitten....." it kind of warms my heart. Maybe it's because I think of kittens as small, fragile, and vulnerable and I am most definitely not those things. Maybe I like being thought of as someone who needs to be cared for, someone who needs a strong man to watch over her.  I've always related to that song Someone to Watch Over Me.  The Sarah Vaughn version is my favorite.




There's another reader who emails me just about every day hoping for a naughty cyber exchange. I responded this morning with my typical, "Hope you have a good day," and he replied with, "I was hoping for my Mistress to tell me what to do...."

Obey the Kitty.

Let's be clear.  For the most part, I'm a sub. shackledkat with a small s. Nothing turns me on like a man taking charge in the bedroom and taking what he wants.  Nothing. If you read through the naughty stories here on the Sex, Sex, Only Sex page, you'll see my hunger for being dominated played out again and again. But every now and then I get the itch to be holding the riding crop and imposing a little sexual torture on an undeserving sub (either male or female).

About ten years ago, I played through variations of a scenario with a phone sex buddy in which he was tied up standing, ropes pulled tight, making him stand on his tippy toes. There were ropes around his ankles and his legs were pulled apart. I teased him as he stood there, spread eagled, sucking his cock until he was close to climax.  Then stopping.  Whipping his ass with a short whip for a little while. Then stopping. Eventually, I'd stroke his cock and whip him at the same time, telling him to stand perfectly still and enjoying his struggle to be still in spite of wanting to thrust forward away from the pain and toward the pleasure.

Obey the Kitty.

He'd be punished if he made a sound.  He'd be punished if he didn't respond appropriately. He'd be punished sometimes just because I knew it turned him on. Sometimes he'd be punished because it turned me on. Was there any better reason, anyway?

As time went on, the fantasy evolved to include some light cock and ball torture and other fun stuff.  He was very obedient and he learned that he was even more submissive than he thought. I explored my sadistic side and learned that I'm more dominant - sometimes - than I thought. Our fantasy world ended when the phone sex just wasn't doing it for him anymore and he wanted to get together to play in person. I refused (I was on a fidelity streak at the time). Relationship over.

I have to admit that just telling that story without any of he details made my pussy twitch and my nipples harden.  Dang. Where's my sweetie when I need him?

A Gorean Treat

Daunt here. I don't think it's ever been mentioned on the blog, but Kat is an avid reader. When we first met her a little over a year ago, one of the things we talked about was reading. During our chats I recalled an old series of books I read in high school that were a turn on for me about the primitive world of Gor. I have a hunch our regular readers will enjoy this little excerpt I recently ran across, so without further ado here it is.

_______

I looked at the girl, a slave, beautiful in the scant diaphanous silk I allowed her to be clothed in. She had been insolent toward Rim when he had been in shackles; laughing, teasing, mocking. That was until I released him, and gestured my head toward him. "You are his," I told her.

"No! No!" she cried and threw herself to my feet weeping, her head to my sandals. "Please Master! Please, please Master!" She looked up and saw the inflexibility in my eyes. Her lower lip trembled and she put her head down.

Rim lifted the girl to her feet by the hair, twisting her head and bending her body. "Gather together whatever you need, bells and cosmetics, and such to please my senses. Then go and prepare me a bath and food."

"Yes Master," said the girl. He twisted her hair more. She winced, her back bent painfully. "Do you wish me to submit now?" she begged.

"Do so," he said.

She fell to her knees before Rim, and lifted her head to regard him. "I will be your slave," she said. Then she knelt back on her heels, lowered her head, and lifted and extended her arms, wrists crossed as though for binding. She was a gorgeous creature, I wondered if I had been hasty in my decision. "I am your slave," she said to him, "Master."

"Go," Rim said to her.

"May a girl not beg for her name?" she asked.

He looked at her. "Cara," he said.

She had been named.

________

This little passage is from book 8, Hunters of Gor, and it brought a smile to my face! I am sure that none of our Prowling with Kat readers would ever want to treat our lovely Cara this way!

* I modified this passage from the book just slightly so you would not need to know as much about the story. However the gist of the event and the names of the characters are unchanged.

Gone Fisting....

I got an email from a friend yesterday with a picture of a t-shirt with the phrase, "Gone Fisting" on it. I knew that had to be the title for this post, the first in a series about fisting. I've had several requests, from women, to take some time to write about fisting, and I'm glad to comply because I am such a sweet and kind Kat.  The first post in this series will be about fisting in general (what it is, what to be careful of, etc.).  The next post will be a naughty story about one of my adventures with fisting (you knew there would be a naughty story in here somewhere, didn't you?).

For those of you who don't know what fisting is, it's the sexual act of inserting a full hand into the vagina (known as vaginal fisting) or rectum (known as anal fisting).  There are several different techniques, as you might imagine, but the point is to get the hand inserted up to the wrist. Here's a wikipedia article about fisting that shows some hand positions and discussed some of the risks.

I'll get to the risks in a minute, but first I want to talk about why some women (like me!), and some men I presume, like it so much. Ladies, you've undoubtedly experienced your partner inserting a finger or two (or maybe even three) inside you.  It's quite pleasurable, no? Why is that? Because it's an intimate exploration of your body, and because it allows for manual manipulation of one of your biggest pleasure centers. Adding the fifth finger and the thumb just adds to that pleasure, but it has the added bonus of being a very dominant act. Trust me, you are fully under his control when he's got his whole fist inside you.  You're not going anywhere.  Some of us find that very, very hot. Yes, most women find male domination in bed (to one degree or another) to be a serious turn on.

What about pain?  Yes, it can be uncomfortable during the insertion phase of the act, but the key is to go slow.  Guys, I mean it. Go s-l-o-w.  You need to give the vagina a chance to stretch. The slower you go, the less pain there is.  The faster you go, the more pain there is.  Simple enough. If you're into the whole sado-masochist thing and the pain is part of the turn for you, you still need to be careful about not going to fast for other reasons.

The wikipedia article I cited above talks bout some of the risks of fisting, but it doesn't mention the most obvious risk - perineal tearing. That sound you just heard was the sound of about a thousand women squirming uncomfortably and crossing their legs. For you guys who don't know what I mean, perineal tearing is the tearing of the skin below the vagina and above the anus (that area is the perineum). Inserting your fist too fast or too roughly, or being too rough once it's inserted, can cause that area to rip. Yes, I have experienced a perineal tear caused by fisting.  Not fun. Those tears really do hurt, more during the days that follow than when they happen, but pain and blood during sex are turn offs for most folks. So, repeat after me....Go s-l-o-w. Good.

You also risk internal abrasions if your partner has not made sure his nails are trimmed.  Yes, ouch again! Please, gentlemen.  A little preparation goes a long way.

The most serious risk from vaginal fisting is the risk of embolism.  That is the pushing of air into the uterus.  It can be fatal.  Stop freaking out. It's rare, and it happens more from the act of pounding (pumping a closed fist like a piston inside the vagina) than from more common fisting activities. Still, it's something to think about.

All of this has been about vaginal fisting.  There are additional risks to anal fisting.  Since I'm not into anal fisting at all (but, to be fair, I've never tried it), I'm not going to discuss it here.  Hey, just google it if you want to know more, ok?

I keep hearing that men are very visual, so here's a website that has some free fisting videos, as well as a bunch of other free sex videos.  Enjoy. No, I don't make any money off of this video site.  Kat is all about sharing freely.

Here's a fun little YouTube video on Lesbian fisting which, by the way, is the same as heterosexual fisting, except for maybe the size of the hand. This video will make you chuckle.  It's a parody of a 1950's instructional video.  Very creative, Ladies!

Speaking of size, I've heard men say, "I have really big hands.  There's no way my fist will fit in a woman's vagina!" All I can say is that I have squeezed out two babies with head circumferences bigger than a large man's fist. Get over yourself, big boy.

No, fisting isn't for everyone.  It it's not your cup of tea, let it go.  If you want to try something new and different, though, give it a try.  You might might like it.

As promised, my naughty fisting story will be posted soon. Can you guess who my partner is in it?  I'll bet you can......