• A Pleasurably Versatile Experience – This is my latest sex toy review published on EdenFantasys.com. I think you’ll find it quite interesting, especially considering it’s a review for a toy that is ostensibly made for the purpose of hanging weights off one’s testicles, and I’ve shared my opinion on that almost laughable practice before. Here’s a choice excerpt:
  

  Cock and ball toys are without doubt one of the most unfortunately stereotyped of all sex toys. Those made out of leather and metal, even more so! The Large Parachute’s description doesn’t help any here, citing that “this original cock and ball torture accessory…provides a firm grip over the package” and “has a 6” long jewel chain that lets you attach additional weights for an increased cock and ball tease.”

  […]

  The good news is that I discovered other uses for the Large Parachute. The bad news is that it’s still mostly useful only for the types of CBT play you’d expect because it’s not as durable as it needs to be for some of the more inspired uses I came up with for it.

  If you’re so inclined, I’d very much appreciate a positive vote on my review(s).

• When I Was A Boy – this is one of my good friend Switch’s latest posts that I read tonight and just about fell weak at the knees over. It’s so good and full of queer gender-bending hotness that I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to link to it. My favorite part:
  

  In this submissive position, my cock meant a whole other thing. It never occurred to me that I was a girl in that context: I was a boy, submissive to a bigger, stronger Boy. And I LOVED it. I had never been a boy the way I was like that, even though vaginal intercourse made my girl parts very apparent. Nor had I ever felt submissive in the same way I did, with my hard silicone cock pushed into the bed and the base pushing against my pubic mound, turning me on even more as Boy fucked me.

  Guh!

• Also, just because I can, a pair of links go out this week to KinkInExile.com and Essin-Em.com, who have simply been on my mind a bit lately.

On a completely unrelated note, I think it’s worth a mention that Conversio Virium is receiving an ever-growing amount of email on a wide array of topics. In the past week alone, we’ve received email from:

• three event organizers to let us know about their events (whom all got responses with instructions for how to contribute to the public calendar of sexuality events that CV hosts),
• another two emails from people who want to write about the group in other publications, one from the Columbia University Spectator newspaper seeking content for sexuality-related articles,
• another from a student of a non-Columbia-affiliated NYC-based University interested in attending CV meetings,
• an admittedly random email about some cross-campus game of Risk (WTF?),
• and another from what seems like a random visitor concerned about her daughter’s safety because she is “into S and M.” (This was the email that prompted me to add a link to the Kink Aware Professionals list hosted by the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom on our contact page.)

That’s no less than 9 emails this week, more than one per day on average, and I’m pretty confident that CV’s email load will simply continue to grow as it gains more exposure.

Just…food for thought. Okay, that’s all. Now back to your regularly scheduled programming, kthnxbai.

Actually, no, I responded…and why would I? I don’t actually like cock and ball torture that much. I don’t really mind cock and ball torture—I mean, it can be fun and all and I’ve done it and stuff, hell I’ve even felt Eileen pierce my ball sack with a needle and poke my penis a bit with one, too—but I just don’t really enjoy it. It’s not a fun kind of pain for me. I just don’t get off on it.

Even if I did, though, would I really need to go out and buy special weights specifically for the purpose of dangling them from my genitals? Eileen’s response to this idea was something along the lines of, “Why the fuck would I spend money on that? There’s tons of shit in my house that’s heavy and tons of ways I could attach it to you. I am way more creative than that.”

Evidently, this sort of attitude is nearly unheard of for submissive men. It’s one of those things, right along with foot fetishism and a desire to be forcibly feminized, that many people tend to automatically assume every single man who is submissive must be into. I mean, I must at least have a weight for cock and ball torture, right?

You see this everywhere. Cock and ball torture is probably in every single stereotypical representation of BDSM that I’ve ever encountered. Women, usually women dressed in stereotypically shiny outfits, who are kicking, punching, slapping, poking, clamping, or otherwise delightfully abusing the male genitalia. Again, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Like I said before, if this is the kind of yodeling garden-gnome sex session you want to have, be my guest, but don’t assume that I’m going to want to do it with you.

And while I’m on the subject of yodeling garden-gnome sex, I’m sure there are a lot of dominant women who aren’t particularly enthusiastic about the idea of cock and ball torture, either. Like chastity and orgasm denial, this is so often just one more unbelievably penis-centric fantasy that the men who perpetuate the stereotype don’t even stop to think about what’s in it for their partners.

Cock and ball torture is so common, actually, it’s got an acronym: CBT. I kind of like this acronym, though, because it means I get to snicker quietly to myself when the HR director says something like, “Maybe we should invest in that CBT package to help our employees understand the new database system.” Of course, she’s talking about computer based training, which actually gives my filthy mind even more awesome fantasies in the office.

Anyway, I find the whole thing to be rather a big nuisance. It’s a little like going to a big city, New York for example, and assuming everyone you meet is a fan of the most well-known sports team, say the Yankees, right off the bat. Most of the people you meet are actually not going to be huge baseball fans at all, and some of them might like the Mets instead. Obviously, making the assumption that everyone you meet is a Yankees fan is kind of dumb.

Well, so is the assumption that all submissive men like CBT, or feet (which I think can be beautiful, but are often very silly looking). It’s more likely to make you look like an ass than anything else. So my advice is the same as it’s always been: stop treating sexual situations so differently from the rest of your life; if you’re not walking around making assumptions about sports teams based on where I live, stop making assumptions about my sexual preferences based on my submissive orientation.

Years ago, I disliked getting hit on the buttocks but I adored getting hit on the back. (I still adore getting hit on my back.) Facing a wall and being whipped was and still is, for the most part, the epitome of my mental image of strength. In contrast, having my ass hurt used to piss me off. I had never really been slapped in the face.

Over time, I was able to eroticize pain delivered to my ass through canings, spankings, and paddlings. I suspect this mostly has to do with the gentle and overtly sexual introduction of my ass cheeks to my play with Eileen, for which I am now, of course, very grateful. I’d never thought it possible before, but for the first time recently I actually got turned on with a properly rhythmic caning that left bruises for several days. But hitting my back still doesn’t turn me on.

There is cultural imagery associated with beating certain parts of the body. The back is where you whip the insolent. The ass is where you paddle the disobediant young. The face is where you hit any kind of victim. Certainly, these associations are not far from my mind when I experience such sensations. I wonder, do other cultures (or individuals) with different associations have different reactions because of that?

While feeling pain on my back or face doesn’t translate sexually to me, feeling it on my ass does as long as there’s sufficent erotic context. Certainly, the proximity of my ass to my genitals helps this, though I think more to the point is the fact that the ass is a larger erogenous zone to begin with. I suspect this is how it works for people who enjoy CBT. (I’ve never been much a fan of cruel attentions to my genitals. They seem made for gentler manipulations.)

Mistress 160 has a lovely description of a scene involving CBT with clamps and pegs and clothespins. What’s awesome about the way she desribes the scene is that her descriptions are analogous to a creative act like painting.

While my hand moved up and down his cock I considered my next artistic endeavour, as the canvas in front of me (sol’s family jewels) was now blank again

This brought to mind the observation that so many activities in BDSM are likened to these sorts of things. I think it’s wonderful, fulfilling and very satisfying. There have been many times when designs of wings, flowers, or abstract curves and shapes have been cut into my flesh (usually on my back or my ass) by my love. She would stand above me and admire her work in very much the same way she was doing so when she was proud of any other accomplishment she had achieved. I loved the feelings of closeness it gave me to offer her my body as the medium of her expression.

While this feeling was coupled with my submissive (and completely “normal” loving) desire to make sure I do whatever I can to enable her to do what she wants, to make her life full of happiness and pleasure, I found that on more than one occasion, she would offer the same for me. The typical vanilla example is a hickey. For us, a hickey is also a mark akin to a bruise from a beating so on the occasions when she encourages me to mark her like that, I feel priviledged and grateful that she’s offering her body to me.

Ultimately, I think these makes a lot of sense. Creation is experssion. People very frequently talk about using the body as a means of expression. It fits in many ways that we would choose our bodies as the medium of that creation. It’s primal, and a part of who we are as human beings.