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Bristol Alternative and Burlesque Fair

♦ Last Saturday I, plus Crush and Alt, decided to pop over to Bristol (it’s been too long!) for the Heresy n Heelz Alternative and Burlesque Fair, which also covers fetish and steampunk stuffs. We found our way there, helped in part by my sense of direction, in part by big orange posters on the Bristol Bierkellar and in in part by the staff clearly knowing how to spot one of their own and waving us inside.

There was a bar in front of some seating and a main stage with fetish stalls on the far side of the stage and alternative/burlesque stalls on the near side. I liked that set-up as it meant people who came more for the vanilla side, didn’t have to see collars and cocks if they didn’t want to. I did want to, of course, but we decided to look at the closer stalls first.

There was a lot more variety than I expected: from top hats and dresses to jewellery and knick-knacks. One stall in particular, Madams Pinups, seemed made for me and I happily bought a sexy lady tie and a couple of art prints whilst only just managing not to pick up sexy dishcloths at the same time. Sexy dishcloths! I also bought gothic jewellery from The Dark Attic, a metallic papier maché skull from Jesta Streets and a lovely rockabilly dress.

I was of a mind to pick up a men’s shirt from Rafflesia Designs too. They had one with a lovely subtly-coloured sexy mermaid design, but I baulked at the absolutely extortionate price. Frankly, I just don’t care how much you try to tell me it’s handmade, I’m not paying £60 for one shirt. Such a shame.

My favourite stall of the day, though I didn’t buy anything from it because I’ve no idea where I’d wear it was Beautiful Brastards. Just look at how awesome this is:

Beautiful Brastards

I have to say that for me the fetish side of the stalls was a little personally disappointing. There was a flogger stall, but only one of the floggers interested me and in the end I decided I already have too many I don’t play with enough. One stall sold cheap little colourful candles for wax play, so I bought a blue one to try out. Another sold sex toys and the sorts of kink toys you can get on sex toy sites anyway. And for cheaper.

The only particular stalls of interest fetish-wise were one selling new violet wands, of which Alt bought one that I’m probably going to end up throttling him for (take note, police officers!), and a stall of various discounted kink things. I tried on one of those lovely metal ring collars there, but sadly it was a little too small to fit properly.

I go to fetish fairs not for Fetish Fantasy and LELO, but for handmade kink and small-business smut. It was just a bit lacking.

But the Bristol Alternative and Burlesque Fair wasn’t just stalls, oh no. There were performances too. The two pole dancers were gravity-defying and the burlesque was, on the whole, splendid, if a little devoid of actual stripping. That’s not to say the dancers didn’t, to put it crudely, “get enough out”, but more that they generally started not wearing very much to begin with! I’m used to my burlesque routines going from full outfit to a breeze and a whisper rather than starting fairly skimpy in the first place.

Havana Hurricane’s act was good, but a little generic for my liking. I’m more easily impressed by burlesque with a strong theme, so the other two acts were amazing. First Lou Leigh Blue performed an act called Dystopia.

Lou Leigh Blue - Dystopia

Photo by Fenris Oswin.

You can’t see it here, but there’s a silver BAFTAs-like mask on the back of her head and she at first only “faces” the audience with this, making for a creepy eroticism. It was, in essence, a fan dance with billowing silver wings instead of fans, but I absolutely loved the classic sci-fi look and sound of the performance. Plus, sexy.

Then there was a performance from Angelique Dominique, whose routine looked like this:

Her sexy Blade Runner routine as Pris was very sensual and used sound from the film itself. Again, another piece with an original idea and, I have to say, wonderful geek appeal.

Thankfully, all the acts were very good as the compère was completely abysmal. You could see he was trying to get the crowd more vocal, but sadly his methods consisted of cheap “saucy” humour, being patronising, and displaying a seeming ignorance of informed consent. These sections were, I think, so potentially damaging to the kink scene in terms of impression (given it was a mixed kinky/non-kinky event) and to the concept of consent, that I plan to write a rant. So keep your eyes peeled for that one.

Overall, though, it was a very fun day with good friends and great swag, even though my kinky side was a little disappointed and deprived. Would I recommend the Bristol Alternative and Burlesque Fair? As long as you’re not expecting too much and you can stand the compère, I probably would. I may even go again myself. ♦

Fleisch – Erotic Body Horror

♦ I’m still here. I’m not going away, don’t worry. Hopefully, this post is a return to more regular posting and normal service. I’ve been busy, then stressed and anxious, then busy again. Geek life and geek me have gotten in the way of blog writing and blog me. It’s a phenomenally busy time of year. But I’m not disappearing. And now for a normal post…

I’ve said before that I think it can be a little too easy sometimes to arouse by a photo. I’ve tried to mix horror and eroticism together before too. It’s easy to be intimate when you’re showing intimate parts of yourself. It’s easy to arouse when all you’re doing is trying to arouse.

This week for Sinful Sunday, I am, of course, trying to arouse you, but I’m not just trying to arouse you…

Fleisch  - erotic body horror

As usual, click the image for a bigger version, if you’d like. In any case, this is what I consider erotic body horror. Hopefully, it’s eerie,creepy and yet still a little sexual and tantalising. Erotic, but not necessarily in a comfortable way. In fact, it should be a bit uncomfortable.

It draws on fetish elements (like the chains and the veiny posture collar and chastity-like device), elements of medical/sickness fetish (the leg brace, the inability to walk) and forniphilia (human furniture) as well as just straight-up weirdness like the flesh coloured eyes, the lack of nipples and the strange formation of her body.

I won’t go as far as to say I hope you like it, but I hope it affects you, at least. I’d love to know your thoughts on it and how it makes you feel. Are you aroused? Are you scared? Does it leave you cold? Is there room for body horror and eroticism to share a space and intermingle? ♦

SinfulSunday

Review – Love Bites Chenille Vampire Gloves

Love Bites Chenille Vampire Gloves

Disclaimer: I was provided with a free pair of Love Bites chenille vampire gloves by creator Phyllis Serene in return for my honest review. Click any picture to embiggen.

Love Bites vampire gloves, created by Phyllis Serene, appear at first to be ordinary chenille gloves. However, on closer inspection the underside of the gloves are covered in tiny, spiky, metal protrusions on the palm and fingers.

Love Bites chenille vampire gloves InteriorThey are actually constructed using brass-coloured studs, each with four spikes, pressed into the fabric of the glove from the inside and then carefully glued into place.

You can feel these stud backs when wearing the gloves, which may be annoying for some, but neither I or Crush actually minded that at all.

They also easily and comfortably fit both me (a girl with quite small hands, so I’m constantly told) and Crush (a guy with very long hands).

Love Bites chenille vampire gloves Fit

Top: My hand. Bottom: Crush’s hands.

So, appearance-wise my Love Bites are a pair of black chenille gloves with spikes you won’t necessarily notice at first glance. I honestly have not touched chenille since I was about 14 and it seriously brings back childhood memories. I remember brightly-coloured chenille jumpers really being the rage for about a year. I had two chunky blue ones.

It was, now that I think back, pretty terrible. But this is a more subtle colour (plus, not a jumper) and the fabric choice is actually great for sensation play. More on that later. For those who don’t get on with chenille, Love Bites vampire gloves also come in “basic knit”, “fuzzy yarn knit”, velour and lace.

The vampire gloves also feature an adorable heart button near the cuff. Despite this, I’d say the gloves are fairly unisex (and also if you’re put off by them not being manly or girly enough for you, I think you’re probably an idiot anyway). Personally I think they are a bit less sexy and fashionable than leather vampire gloves, but that doesn’t really rate as an issue for me. They’re definitely discreet and pretty inoffensive in look.

Speaking of inoffensive, Love Bites are also completely suitable for vegans, unlike leather vampire gloves. I’m not a vegan, but I know vegan-friendly kink can be difficult, so it’s lucky these exist!

Love Bites chenille vampire gloves Label

The Love Bites came with a label attached and in a sealed clear plastic bag. The label serves to market the toy, but also comes with a lot of useful information. The back contains care instructions, the type and price, some key info and a link for further details.

I’ve wanted to own my very own vampire gloves for quite some time now as they look amazing.

I’ve seen and handled leather vampire gloves (such as those by KinkLab) before, but they’ve always put me off for two reasons: one, they’re difficult to clean and, two, they’re very pricey. These are gloves that get swished around hot skin a lot, you’re going to want to clean them easily and well. But Love Bites can be easily hand-washed or even put into the washing machine (inside out to avoid destroying other items) on cold and left to air dry (heat will destroy the glue).

More importantly, the chenille version are also only $22 a pair (around £14.50, with about £6.50 shipping to the UK), which is much, much cheaper than the harder-to-care-for leather gloves made by big companies (KinkLab’s are from £35). And you’re supporting a great little company and business woman making these by hand. If you want something even lower in price, the basic knit version is $2 cheaper than the chenille.

In yet another triumph over leather vampire gloves, Love Bites have vampire spikes on both the fingers and the palm, unlike the measly KinkLab gloves which cover just the fingers. I mean, really. All that money for a few pesky finger points? Seriously? The Love Bites chenille vampire gloves are much more generous with their (cheaper) bitey, spiky goodness.

Love Bites chenille vampire gloves Spikes

IN USE

Love Bites chenille vampire gloves are a fantastic pair of vampire gloves with a variety of both kinky and not-so-kinky uses. The spiky side can be used sensuously for sensation play, a light tickling of the spikes is lovely and teasing, or more roughly for tapping, scratching, spanking and a bit of welcome pain. The unspiked chenille side is fantastically soft and sensuous in itself and feels great alternated with the spikes, used to wake up the nerves of the skin before bringing in the vampire side or used as a spanking cool-down. The fact that you can alternate sides as you wish makes the gloves very versatile and it’s great fun to switch from furry to grr-y play.

The spiked studs themselves are pretty sharp and pointy if you press down on them with your thumb, for example, but with them evenly placed all over the surface of the vampire glove, the pressure is easily spread so that you actually have to try very hard to break the skin. In fact, we only really managed to break any skin and draw the mildest amount of blood by having Crush spank my arse nearly as hard as he could with them. Which, incidentally, quite hurt! I definitely recommend Love Bites for adding something a bit different and intense to your spanking sessions.

But worry not, with light play, it’s very likely that you won’t leave any marks at all. At worst, you could come away with  the red lines you can get from scratching hard with sharp fingernails and those should soon fade. Indeed, you really can scratch and scrape the skin quite happily with these vampire gloves, as well as being softer and brushing or tickling or caressing.

Love Bites feel absolutely amazing in use. My particular favourite areas to have “vamped” are the base of my neck and the small of my back, which, when stroked with the Love Bites, produce the most wonderful, unique fizzing and tingling sensations. They are glorious and hard to describe, but they make me wriggle and giggle and purr like a kitten. Other fantastic areas for these are the bum cheeks, other parts of my back and shoulders, the breasts (take care around the sensitive nipples, for good or ill), arms and thighs. With sensations from outright pain to soft tingle, there’s bound to be something you’ll like.

They also really, really work on completely obliterating any pesky itches you many have. Seriously. They destroy them. In my eyes, that makes them a damn utility item!

For the wielder (yes), we both found the Love Bites vampire gloves fairly easy to put on and take off, comfy to wear and easy to use. Sometimes the difference between “just right” and “too much” is subtle, so you do have to be quite careful and precise unless you have a resilient victim, but precision movements are surprisingly possible and the feedback pressure is great. They’re not an “advanced” bit of kit.

Vegan Vampire Gloves with a Bite

CONCLUSION

Love Bites chenille vampire gloves are, to come to a point (heh), wonderful. They’re cheaper, easier to clean, easier to fit, more vegan-friendly, softer, fluffier and yet still far, far more spiky than the usual leather KinkLab vampire gloves. They have spikes on both the fingers and the palm of each glove and each of the spikes is lovely and pointy and scratchy.

They look and feel good both to wear and be subjected to; never mind the nostalgia value of the chenille for me, it’s a great fabric for sensation and textured soft strokes to complement the spikes. The Love Bites’ spikes can give sensation ranging from tickling and tingling up to pain and some breaking of the skin, but you have to be quite purposeful to achieve the latter, so it’s a very safe toy. All in all, I highly recommend the chenille Love Bites vampire gloves, so go buy yours! ♦

Collar Me

♦ There’s something about a collar. Restraint and ownership delicately balanced with a fizzing freedom. An intimate act displayed in public. Leather wrapped around your neck can bring feelings of danger and security all at once.

I’d wanted a collar for a long time. Now I own several. A black PVC one, a plain black leather one, a red rubber one, a black rubber one with a blue gem, two black leather ones with poppers that say SLUT and BAD KITTY respectively. But I’ve never really had anything that I consider “my collar”. I don’t want to be literally labelled “slut or “bad kitty” all the time, the plain one is the one I use on the men in my life and the other three are too impractical for most occasions.

I wanted something to be My Collar. Something high-quality, something beautiful.

Monochrome Leather Collar

Then I encountered Leather Delights at a kink fair. I ummed and ahhed over exactly which of their many, many gorgeous collars I wanted. Not too thin, not too thick, not too plain but not too over-the-top. Soon I was holding an incredibly sexy 1.5″ wide collar with a soft black lining and a lovely white outside.

It smelt intoxicatingly of leather. It was comfortable and fit well and, importantly, I loved the way it looked. White is by no means the usual choice for collar colour and it suited me.

But of course it did. Everything about it is searingly beautiful, don’t you think? ♦

Toy with me Tuesday

Why not see more of my erotic, nude and sex toy photography?

Things to Wear – NaPoWriMo

♦ So, NaPoWriMo, the National Poetry Writing Month, is still going strong. And so am I! Since my first batch of poems and my second, I’ve been doggy paddling like mad to keep up, but it’s certainly working! Just about. I’m only three poems down from what I should be, at least. Here are poems 9-14 of my month…

The Absence of Your Skin

Gloves at once removed
Feeling greedily flows back
Like pins and needles

In Praise of Cinched Waists

Constricted, conflicted
Restricted, I predicted
That I could only endure the garment for so long
But as soon as the damn thing was off I would long
To be confined, defined
In refined, satin-lined
Corsets, their bones of unyielding steel
Their lacing tautening as I feel
Pinched, clenched
Squeezed and tense
Shored up, whored out
Sealed away, but on display
Made dainty, made sound
Made captured and bound
Fettered
Feeling
Free

Of Corsets Showbiz

There was a young girl with a belly
Who said, “It just wobbles like jelly.
But with a corset, of course,
And control panel shorts,
I can look like they do on the telly.”

Hosiery

Hush, hush, the shifting
Of nylon between my thighs
Whispering, hush, hush

On Wearing Silly Knickers

Fancy lingerie
Sliding down my rounded hips
Thrill of exposure

Shiny

The shine, the sheen
So bright, so clean
The hug and caress
Of each curve as you dress
That marvellous material
Latex

I based this little lot on sexy things to wear, inspired by my tight corset-wearing session at the weekend that left me feeling poetic and erotic. Of Corsets Showbiz (say it aloud) is a somewhat satirical take on corsetry and body image and the media, but In Praise of Corsets is straight from the (slightly squeezed) heart.

Hosiery is a haiku about the hushing swish of tights, On Wearing Silly Knickers is about that feeling of exhibitionism and sexy precariousness that comes from wearing lingerie, even when it’s well-hidden. The Absence of Your Skin is about how gloves boost your sense of touch due to dulling it while they’re on. And Shiny is an ode to latex.

Which is your favourite poem? Does it match up with your favourite sexy thing to wear? ♦

Wicked Wednesday

Ten Hut! – 100 Orgasms

♦ “Close your eyes,” I said and he did. He lay back on the bed and shut them firmly, anticipating, always eager to obey when he knew I had something planned. I did have something planned, even if that plan had come together in the space of five minutes in the next room, rooting through The Drawers for kink and kit.

We’re having our housewarming this weekend and it’s fancy dress, because fancy dress is fucking fantastic. I’ve been making a military beret for mine and something clicked in my head when I saw it lying there, discarded. I’d been thinking lacy and stockings, but now…

I shut the door behind me and straddled him at the hips.  When I allowed him to open his eyes he saw me dressed in the green beret and a very military-like khaki jumpsuit buttoned to the collarbone. I carried a crop under my arm, swagger stick style. I swear his eyes almost bulged from his head.

He was dressed only in his trousers and he looked beautiful. I’d already been impressed earlier that day by how gorgeous his arms looked: swimmer’s muscles, lean and lithe but strong.

You’ll have to forgive me. I may say it myself, but what he said to me and what I said to him and the roleplaying was so fucking hot. But I forget. My waves of orgasms are too good at wiping out the coastal villages of my memory. The details merge, the lines become brush strokes of eroticism on an Impressionist painting.

So, yeah, I forget stuff.

But the night was swimming with “Yes, Ma’am”s and permission asked and occasional cheek given. I enjoyed ordering him around and domming shit up and punishing insubordination where I found it, rewarding good behaviour too.

I unbuttoned the top of the khaki jumpsuit to show my breasts, naked but for a fishnet bodystocking and, supporting them, an almost Steampunk “bra belt”. My nipples poked through the black fishnet and I leant in towards his face. He sucked on my left nipple with ardour and I gasped and ground into his body beneath me.

Before I knew it, I was surprising myself with an orgasm. My grinding into him wasn’t even involved! This was all from his attention on one of my nipples and I inwardly praised my body as I shuddered on top of him.

Military-style banter that I so wish I could remember followed. Trust me: fucking hot. Crush respectfully suggested we try the experiment again to see if we could reproduce those results and I agreed, but this time I demanded to lie on my back.

He took my nipple in his mouth again and he began to suck, but my nipple wouldn’t be so easily swayed this time. No matter. As he sucked hard I began to rub my crotch over my jumpsuit and, not that he knew that, my black PVC thong underneath. I rubbed furiously, so turned on by his desire and the sheer fucking hotness of it all. Soon I was shuddering, a second orgasm rippling through me.

Now Crush was bold with lust and, as we switched places again, asked me if he could spank me.

Well, I was in charge as his Commanding Officer, so what to do? But a filthy thought occurred. I quite like the idea of hurting a man, something he might not necessarily like, as a form of payment by him to get something he really wants. I’m not sure what it is about it. Perhaps the idea that his lusts have overtaken him so?

In any case, I offered the price of five pinches of his nipple for an undefined period of spanking me. He accepted nervously and I began, gently, to pinch him. I brusquely told him to count and he did. But he tried to be cheeky, tried to count three when it was two. So I started again. He counted the fourth pinch before I’d actually done it, so guess what? I started again.

This time there were no mistakes and I dismounted him, leaning forward on hands and knees as he spanked me with the red paddle. Sometimes I hate that paddle. Sometimes, as you’ll see, I love it. But right now it was a hard one to take.

Take it I did, though.

Now naked, he sat on the edge of the bed and I produced my black metal handcuffs from the little pile of toys I’d brought in. I set them down and, hot from our exertions, stripped the khaki jumpsuit from my body. Now he saw the thong and the full glory of my bodystocking as its netting covered my sticky-hot curves.

The hat, I noticed, fell some time during the spanking. Now it was pure kinkwear, but we kept up our roles nonetheless. My geek society would be proud. :P

I opened the cuffs, managing to hook them into my fishnet on the way. Sigh. Unhooking them, I instead attached them to my intended target. I grabbed them by the chain and hoicked his arms above his head, scratching at his chest and back and eyeing him fiercely.

Letting go, I made him scoot up the bed and knelt between his legs, bringing my beloved Tango vibe with me. I placed it between my labia, cushioned by them and kept in place by my thong and thighs. I turned it on and felt it throb. I kissed my way up Crush’s body, crawling seductively, reaching his cock and…

…running my tongue playfully a centimetre above his shaft as if licking, but not. A tease. A torture.

The kisses marched up his chest and neck before I turned and swooped back down on his cock, licking for real this time, making love to him with tongue and lips. I was feral, enthusiastic, I moaned when he leaked pre-come and writhed back and forth, managing to rock against the vibrator nestled in my folds. I came once, twice as I licked fervently and then collapsed on his cock.

I offered to let him fuck me, right then and there. But Crush was on task. He knew I had a goal to reach and figured one more towards it before moving on couldn’t hurt. He asked me to carry on licking and sucking and coming on my bullet vibe, but this time he wanted some dirty talk. And, narcissist that he is, heh, dirty talk about him.

So I told him as I licked him about how hot he makes me, how sexy he looks, his gorgeous body, his thick cock and I licked and sucked. I wriggled and turned up the rumble on my vibrator until I came again, moaning on his cock, gagging myself with his erection.

The finest part of the evening was still to come though. And I’m not even talking about the penetration. No, while that was fantastic, I think I liked the next part better. Remember I said sometimes I love the red paddle?

He wanted to use it on me again, this time while I continued to use the vibrator on myself. I was only too quick to oblige.

It was interesting how through the whole thing, I was still in charge. Even when I asked him what he wanted, even when I shuddered under his hand as he spanked me. It was strange, although it shouldn’t be, and wonderful. I was his superior officer, he a lowly subordinate and I was using him for my kicks. Simple as. Whether he spanked me or not, it was my will and I could easily have him court marshalled in a snap, naturally.

I discarded the ridiculously-named “bra belt” and the thong and leant forward on the bed. He spanked me as I toyed with my clit using the vibrator and for a while it was much the same as the first spanking. Then the rumbling on my clit began to kick in and, as I worked myself towards another orgasm, I found myself wanting more and more and MORE.

“Harder,” I begged and Crush obliged. “Harder,” I cried and he hit harder still. With each gain in arousal I wanted more force, more pain. Soon I was coming hard and Crush was pounding on me as hard as he could. I had never taken this much force for this long before and I kept it up as I rolled into another fantastic climax. I was out of breath, sweating, shaking, I was full of the most wonderful feelings and sensations. I collapsed forward and turned onto my back, gazing at my beautiful lad with wide eyes.

“I love you,” I said, breaking character momentarily.

“I love you too,” he replied.

The sex that followed was frantic and amazing. Once I’d warmed to the large cock inside me, I told him he could go as hard or soft as he liked. I think he tried to teach me a lesson and soon I was bouncing, shrieking, revelling in the wonderful pleasure/pain of his rough thrusts. He came inside me after a time and we flopped next to each other, spent… ♦

Bruising

10/100

Roped Up

♦ I have two coils of rope, which I don’t use enough. This one is white and the other black. This one, I think, may not actually be sold as bondage rope, but it works perfectly well. It’s still strong and thick and soft. It still feels good wrapped around skin.

This picture is from a little while ago now where I decided it was about time we did some shibari on both me and Crush. I really want to get to grips with rope bondage and I still have fancies in my head of having one of those emergency rope bracelets so that I’m ready for emergency bondage at any time. ;)

So, without further ado, here’s me lying back and enjoying the caress of the karada Crush tied me into. It’s not expertly done or anything, but it’s a good start and I loved being in it nonetheless.  ♦

See who else is playing Sinful Sunday this week…

 

Niagara Fallen

♦ I have a strap-on harness. Two, in fact, though I think one may end up going back to the shop soon as it’s just not as good as the other. Well, technically, three, but one is Vac-u-locked to a phthalatastic Doc Johnson ‘dong’ that I am never going near again. It’s basically waiting on death row for a suitable demise. Fire’d be nice.

Anyway, I have a strap-on harness, or a few, and a goodly number of dildos. Long and fairly thin (like the one below, which is the Tantus Niagara), small and veiny, gorgeous and realistic, neon and slim, curved and chic, flexible and artsy. Heck, with the latest review item I’ve been sent, I even have a fantastic take on the stereotypical massive black one. And all of those have just the right base for putting in a harness.

Crush isn’t into anal or harness stuff, though, so why bother? Well, several reasons actually. Firstly, I originally bought the evil rubber one to experiment with my thoughts around gender. As you may know, I’m into androgyny. I’d love to have a cock of my own to play with and I can even make myself orgasm, in the right mindset, by stroking a cock or strap-on and pretending that I do. A strap-on harness allows me the fun and exploration of make-believe. Plus, it’s great for boinging around and doing the helicopter dick. :P

And besides which, I’m on the lookout for a nice girl to hopefully play with. And oh, how I’d dearly love to fuck a girl with my cock. A real cock would be better, but science continues to fail me, but this would certainly do. I find myself often shifting to a more masculine me around girls, actually. So hopefully if the opportunity arises, my harness will be good for that too.

Until then, I’ll have to stick to strapping one on and hanging out with my wang out. Like so… ♦

Details, Details

♦ I wrote this on the same train as I wrote Make Me. It’s not a direct line to my cunt like that poem, but worthy of inclusion on my blog. I was trying something slightly more complex with this one, so tell me what you think! ♦

The snap of the buckle settling into place
The slight creak of the rope taking the strain
The devil is in the details

Where you are imperfect, the knots are just so,
the lengths carefully chosen,
the cup and curve and caress of hemp on your skin
calculated to tease and comfort

Your asymmetry is his perfect canvas

The collar sits flush against your throat,
emphasising the soft flutter of your pulse
The clamps on your tits are polished to a shine

You are motionless, as instructed,
but for a tremble of your chin and a flicker of your eyes

A lock clicks into place at your wrists
A strap is shifted one degree to the left

The set-up was effortless and the adjustments minor,
the accoutrements chosen seemingly on a whim
You wouldn’t know it, but the exact curve of your spine at this moment
was planned weeks ago

He cups your chin and brushes a stray hair behind your ear
You are complete

Each detail is exact, each angle aesthetic,
each nerve in you tingling and taut as intended

And now the minutiae are in place and his masterpiece is realised,
he will relish defiling it

He will spoil the calm perfection he has created,
he will soil his unblemished canvas
He will desecrate you

Oh, the devil is in the details, my dear, but salvation is found in your flaws…

Erotica 2011

 

♦ This year, Crush and I decided to go to Erotica, Britain’s premier erotica show and exhibition, because I was keen and he is adorable. It was a bit of a bugger to sort out since we needed to get train tickets ASAP to keep it cheap, but the schedule for the event didn’t go up until late, so we didn’t even know what the shows would be, let alone when, and had to guess when’d be best to be there. That was a pain.

Once there and after a quick bag check (apparently Crush had ignored my instructions to “travel light” to the extent that they thought he might be smuggling in flyers), we were through the huge doors into the red-carpeted hall itself. The stalls started promisingly with some awesome bondage furniture, including one restraint chair that looked like a scorpion, and some great spanking chairs. There were some lovely metal spreaders and yokes that looked great but would have been totally impractical to take home on the train. There was even an incredible little rocking stool you knelt on that thrust a dildo upwards when you rocked. Sadly, we couldn’t really lug any of these around with us.

Then came a couple of stalls of cuffs and floggers and collars and crops and the like, which were interesting to browse but had nothing that caught my eye. Then the clothes. Oh, the clothes. From here on it’s harder to give an account of the vague order we took in our browsing because it all became a sea of clothes, a repetitive ocean in which I can only remember the notably different islands of interest.

Sure, I like clothes. I like what I somewhat jokingly have named “whorewear”. You know, a nice collective term for sexy and sexual clothing, whether burlesque, lingerie, stripperific, fetish, whatever. But, being overweight, none of the clothing stands appealed to me because I knew there was such a slim chance that anything would fit me. I did look for any sign of a plus size range, but found none and I was not going to trawl through rack after rack of gorgeous clothes just to end up disappointed and depressed. There wasn’t even any point me buying a corset since I’m not going to spend a bunch of money on something that ideally won’t fit well in a few months time, what with my diet.

That was the main problem with Erotica 2011 for me: the emphasis on clothes and therefore the lack of variety. I had expected a lot more weird and wonderful toys and fetish stuff and things like that. I would have loved it if Lovehoney or SexToysUK had had a stand there. I would have adored it if there had been some manufacturers there (although I know a number of them are overseas, so that might be unlikely). In fact, there weren’t many toys to begin with and when we did find some they were completely awful and nasty. The show guide said that the Erotica Toy Fair stall would have the We Vibe and a Lelo range and so on, but actually contained jelly monstrosities, cheap porn tie-ins (see “jelly monstrosities”) and too many things with the word “dong” written on them (see “jelly monstrosities”). Ugh.

As for unusual toys, there were only a few. At the innovative Little Rooster snorgasm alarm clock stall we spoke to its creator, a lovely and passionate man who was wonderful in that he could tell we didn’t want to buy one straight away but were just curious and so didn’t try to pressure us in the least. Instead, he answered our questions, gave us a flyer and was very courteous. I loved his approach, because nothing sends me running quicker than being hustled and you could tell he was really into his creation. There was also an intriguing but somewhat intimidating stand selling stone dildos.

We went to the Tgirl Bar (which I thought was treated somewhat insensitively in the show guide), but they didn’t have any cider and I wasn’t going to pay £4 for a Corona, whether it came with a free cropping or not. I know they had a job to do, but it seems sad that they basically ignored us if we didn’t want a drink. We squeezed some gorgeous fake breasts being worn at one stall, drank some strange shots at another and at the end of the day our purchases came to a rather measly three items: a rubber choker with a blue ‘gem’ for me, a huge red velvet dragon toy with poseable wings I bought for Crush and a seven-wheel Wartenberg wheel, which is awfully fun.

One thing that really did make the whole thing worth it, though: the shows that we saw! No, not the main stage’s Dance Seduction, which, apart from the pretty hot man-on-man tango, was pretty tame and rather boring, it was the Torture Garden Cabaret stage that really made it for us.

First up, after the rather hit-and-miss compère, an amazing part belly dance, part swordplay, part insane demonstration of muscle control by Leah Debrincat, who looks like this:

And dances like this:

She was erotic and insanely, insanely good.  Please do go and watch another video of her here, because it shows off her muscle control much better than my short clip. I honestly think she might be a (Reg Shoe style) zombie or a robot, because how else is she that in control of bits of her body I couldn’t even wiggle?

Next was the equally in control and erotic Hamish McCann, a male pole dancer with a body type I usually don’t find attractive, but who was incredibly hot thanks to his awesome pole skills and charm:

Yes, the “what the -?” that you can hear is me. Again, check out another video of him, this time Lost Beau‘s, here, because she took a better and longer video than I did. He was brilliant (and again probably from outer space or something) and it helped that he totally played to my tastes with the fedora and waistcoat as well as the Muse song, which I love.

The cabaret also included burlesque dancer Polly Rae doing a wonderful song and fan dance (my first proper fan dance!), androgynous dancer Karis Wilde doing unicorn-based hula hooping (which I also took a video of – longer, because a friend of mine would love it) and incredibly weird Chrisalys Circus dressed as a pig in a latex apron and being generally strange. Yeah.

They were all amazing and very worth watching (even the freaky pig guy) and they really made Erotica 2011 for me. Without them, I think it wouldn’t have been worth going. So, should you go next year? Maybe. There were several comments from various people that it had gone downhill this year, maybe they’ll listen and pick up the pace. But in general I think it depends on whether you can leave booking tickets late enough to know what the acts are and when you can see them and on whether you’re going to be very interested in huge amounts of whorewear and not a lot else, unless the traders change significantly by 2012. It was fun, but I wanted more variety. ♦