Tag Archives: sexuality

Never Have You Ever Ever, sex-postive game, home and office edition.

12 May
mic

Can you believe they trusted me with the mic?

What do sweet tea, brownies, free books, prize boxes filled with sex toys, swag bags featuring sexy body chains from Unbound Boxes, and highly personal, potentially inappropriate questions about your sex life have in common? If you joined us at the raved about Lady Smut Blogger’s RTBooklover’s convention event, Never Have You Ever Ever, you already know the answer.

If you weren’t able to join us, no worries. You don’t have to wait until next year to play. Here is the Never Have You Ever Ever home and office edition. How do you play?

  1. Gather a group of your friends.
  2. Do a trial run to make sure they know how to raise their hand. Do this by asking, “Do you want to play this highly personal and potentially inappropriate game?” Anyone who raises their hand is in.

Now that they’re in, here are the rules:

  1. You ask a question.
  2. If their answer is “yes,” they raise their hand.
  3. If their hand is up, they are still in the running to win.
  4. If their hand goes down, they’re out.

Variation: allow game players to rejoin if their subsequent answer are “yes.” To do this, they simply raise their hand to get back in. Later, you can switch to sudden death.

Variation: add your own questions.

boxes

Unbound Boxes, filled with sex toys.

The first round is the sweetness round. Here, the sweetest of the sweet is revealed. The sweetness finalists who attended our RT event were gifted with a box of sex toys…but, maybe you could simply offer your winners the great, well-kept secret underground website that only very few people know about: PORNHUB.

Ready, set, read the questions to reveal the sweetest of the sweet.

  • Raise your hand if you’ve had less than 2 sexual relationships in your whole life.
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve NEVER given or received oral sex.
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve NEVER EVER tried masturbating.
  • Keep your hand up if you’re a vaginal virgin.
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve NEVER EVER EVER French kissed someone.

The second round is the naughty round. Who among you has done…if not all, a lot. Same rules. Hand up for yes. Down for no. Again our RT finalists were gifted with an awesome box of sex toys. What should you give your winner? How about a pad of paper and a pen, so they can start writing some steamy romances for us all to read.

  • Raise your hand if you’ve ever done any role-playing.
  • Keep your hand up if you have any piercings below your neck.

    hostess

    Hostesses Kris, Elizabeth, Isabelle & Stephy. Keep your hand up if you’ve ever intentionally seduced someone.Keep your hand up if you have any piercings.Keep your hand up if you have any piercings below your neck.

  • Keep your hand up if you’ve ever intentionally seduced someone.
  • Keep your hand up if it’s not your bellybutton.
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve ever gotten or given a lap dance.
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve ever done any bondage or spanking.
  • Keep your hand up if you’re a member of the mile high club.
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve ever had sex with a younger person (by which we mean you were over the age of 30, and the person was at least 9 years younger).
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve ever had anal sex.
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve ever used a strap on toy .
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve ever interacted with a stripper or stripper–male or female.
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve ever had sex with more than one person at the same time?
  • Keep your hand up if you have been, or been with, a unicorn.
  • Keep your hand up if you’ve ever participated in an orgy.
  • Keep your hand up if you have a rumpus room at home.

There you have it, the official, abbreviated home and office edition of the first ever Lady Smut sex-positive game.

Start playing, folks! Share your discoveries and results in the comments! Follow us at Lady Smut! Subscribe to our saucy monthly newsletter!

-An Anthology of Romance and Horror-mediumIsabelle Drake writes erotica, erotic romance, urban fantasy, and young adult thrillers. Her latest story, BAIT, features a woman who hunts and sells zombies, can be found in the horror anthology GONE WITH THE DEAD.

Decent Acting, Gorgeous People, And BDSM! So Why Didn’t Anyone Watch Submission?

10 May

By Elizabeth Shore

A few days ago I found myself without anything to do. Well, technically, there’s always s**t to do, but nothing I felt like tackling. The solution? Cruise my way down couch jockey street, flipping channels until I landed on some mind-numbing goodness for a few hours of escape. Drink in one hand, remote in the other, I found Submission, a 6-episode series that aired last year on Showtime. Wait…last year?! Why hadn’t I heard of it? Admittedly, I’m not always hip to the latest on TV, but still. This show was right up my erotic romance alley and yet until recently had gone undiscovered.

Naturally, I binge-watched all six episodes. Not terribly impressive since they were each like 28 minutes long. Yet once I finished watching I really was perplexed about why no one’s been talking about this show. Let’s run down the list of attractions: beautiful actors (standard fare for TV shows, but still); not bad plotline, decent writing, money from Showtime. Oh, and sex. Lots and lots and lots of sex! BDSM, F/F, regular M/F, even ménage. And it was hot, too. A scene between one of the series’ main characters and an impromptu meet-up in the ladies’ room had me coming back ’round for a second viewing. De-lish!

It’s not surprising that the sex scenes are a major focus of the series. Its two creators, Jacky St. James and Paul Fishbein, have well-established creds in the adult video world. Fishbein, in fact, is the former CEO of Adult Video News and creator of the AVN awards show. So on paper it seems like this series would work. It’s even got parallels to 50 Shades. But I don’t know a single person who’s seen it and the show’s outlook for a season 2 is shaky, to put it mildly.

Here’s the plot: sexually frustrated Ashley ditches her boring boyfriend and decides to roommate with an old friend, Jules. Jules has an additional roomie, Dylan, who’s night and day different from Ashley. Dylan’s a sexually open, do-it-with-anyone kinda gal. She’s also a submissive. When Ashley meets Dylan’s master, Elliott, and becomes the object of his desire, giving Dylan the boot, things get interesting indeed. Nothing like a pissed-off subbie out for revenge. Dylan, as it turns out, knows something about Elliott that he’d rather keep secret. So unless Ashley does exactly what Dylan wants, Elliott’s in a heap o’ trouble. And naturally, adding fuel to Elliott’s fire, by this time he and Ashley are in love. Conflict abounds! Late-night smutty TV at its best. Oh, and then there’s the sex. Did I mention that?

I looked up deets on the show on IMDB and wasn’t exactly shocked to learn that the character of Dylan is played by former adult video star, Raylin Joy, whose stage name is Skin Diamond. Her character is the most sexually daring of the bunch. But here’s the interesting thing about the actress. She was born in the U.S. but lived most of her adolescent life in the U.K. She studied Dramatic Arts and her favorite subjects were ancient Greek theater and Shakespeare. For her acting final exam she played Antigone in the Sophocles play. With a theater geek background, why porn? She’s quoted as saying, “as an independent and highly sexual woman, taking charge of my own personal sexual growth in this manner was immensely empowering.”

Certainly comparisons can be drawn between Ms. Joy’s statement about her acting and why some of us choose to read and write erotic romance. There is indeed something personally empowering in creating sexually open characters and having them delve into all kinds of hot wickedness, wherever our naughty little minds choose to take them.

I personally think Showtime dropped the ball by not advertising the dang series. No one’s gonna watch if they don’t know the show exists, amiright?! Who knows if Submission will go beyond a single season, but if you want to see it for yourself, it’s streaming on demand. So if you’re sitting around with nothing to do, now you’ve got some options. 😉

Elizabeth Shore writes both contemporary and historical erotic romance. Her newest book is an erotic historical novella, Desire Rising, from The Wild Rose Press. Other releases include Hot Bayou Nights and The Lady Smut Book of Dark Desires

The end of an awful marriage might be the beginning of something smoking hot. Click to buy.

 

 

 

 

 

All I want for Christmas…a basic primer on the female orgasm

9 Dec

By Isabelle Drake

Something you alr011-gillette-elvgren-theredlisteady know: the female orgasm is more (much more) complex than the male counterpart. While men reach orgasm more quickly and frequently, 90% of the time as compared to the woman’s 25%, the male orgasm is usually shorter, reportedly less intense and requires a longer recovery time.

Quick facts:

  • 26-32, estimated peak age for a woman’s sexuality, but equal amounts of research show sexual satisfaction is more connected to overall life satisfaction.
  • relaxation, studies shows its single most important element in regard to reaching bliss.
  • 15-40 minutes, that’s the average length of time it takes for a woman to orgasm.
  • women are much more likely to need a “reset” due to distraction or unexpected position changes during those 15-40 minutes.
  • muscular contraction in the lower abdomen precedes the orgasm and can be used by a lover to determine whether a technique is getting the desired results.
  • the labia deepens in color as blood flow increases, another signal lovers can watch for.
  • too much clitoral stimulation is counterproductive as it becomes desensitized, yep–another factor for partners to consider.

That list alone isn’t enough to make things complicated. Here’s more: there are four types of female orgasms.

Clitoral:

With 8,000 nerve endings its no wonder this ultra sensitive spot is the most common way for women to achieve orgasm. Good news, stimulation there is quick and easy and works consistently. Less good news, the result is not as physically powerful as the other possibilities.

Vaginal:

While there is some controversy as to whether or not the G-spot exists, many women state that they have had an orgasm as a result of stimulation inside the vagina alone (excluding clitoral stimulation). The G-spot is an area, not a particular “spot,” of sensitive tissue. Achieving the big O this way can take longer and require more mixing it up via positions, but this type delivers legendary results.

Never had a vaginal orgasm or lost touch with your G-spot? Consider trying Ben Wa Balls to tone up your interior.

Blended:

Ahhh…yes, the best of both worlds–clitoral and vaginal orgasms simultaneously. This mind-blowing experience is the longest lasting and most physically intense, but also the most difficult to achieve. The trick to achieving this Mecca of Satisfaction is persistence and patience. Lots of foreplay in the form of touching everywhere, kissing everywhere, and–dare I suggest it–gentle, intimate conversation.

Multiple:

Not to be confused with several orgasms that occur at different times in the same session, multiple orgasms occur one after the other, a roll of mind-melting pleasure. Not all women are cut out for this one, as the continual stimulation may not “work” for some; however, those who do achieve it reach their peak several times in a row, usually with altered positions. A possible method to increase your chances and avoid the over-stimulation that can prevent multiple orgasms, ask your partner to stroke your clit over a silk scarf or your panties.

The female orga5d3ef55afd32354598fd0dca093fae70sm is in some ways the icing on the intimacy cake. It’s part of the process of that leads to pregnancy, but not a required part. So, its technically “unnecessary.”

Ha! Says who? Scientists. What do they know?

Okay, they do know a lot. But on this issue, they just might be wrong. I’d say the big O is necessary and ought to be on everyone’s holiday wish list. Thoughts? Shout out in the comments.

And – follow us here at Lady Smut. We’re always here to inform, entertain, and keep you up to date.

Isabelle Drake writes erotica, erotic romance, urban fantasy, and young adult thrillers.

 

 

Cuckold Beach 1: Pink Bow – Simply Sinful Basket Gveaway

25 Nov

By Isabelle Drake

Yes! You are taking a break from deal hunting, cleaning, or driving. Welcome to Lady Smut’s Simply Sinful Giveaway.

I’m here to heat things up with a trip to a sizzling stretch of California beach, where devoted husbands are dedicated to satisfying their wives’ deepest desires. They’ll do whatever it takes to bring intimacy and ecstasy to the women they love…even if it means giving their wives to other men…while they watch.

Be sure to remember to comment on any (or all) of the excerpts today in order to be eligible to win our dangerously sinful Black Friday “Basket of Sin” giveaway basket. Check back in tomorrow (that’s Saturday, in case you have shopping blackout and lose track of the days) when we announce the winner!

Cuckold Beach 1: Pink Bow 

cb-1pink-bow-final-coverTroy and I got married six months ago, so it won’t surprise you to know we have a lot of sex. But there’s one night each week that’s extra-special—every Thursday we play Scrabble first.

I know when I say it like that it sounds really boring, but trust me—it isn’t. Troy’s dick is always hard throughout the game and he really knows how to make me beg for what I already want. I’ll be sitting across the board from him, watching his long fingers put tiles in place, wondering how he’s going to make me come later. By the time the game is over, I’m on fire with anticipation.

But that Thursday night, about three months ago, instead of pulling the Scrabble board out from under the bed, he led me to the closet and told me to put on my shortest skirt and highest heels and left the room. I made a joke out it and put on a pair of stripper heels a friend had given me. Then I slipped into the tiny slip-on skirt I bought on clearance but never wore. No top. No panties.

He didn’t laugh when I marched out into our small living room, jiggled my boobs and then spun around to show him my bare ass. He looked me up and down and said, totally straight-faced, “The no-panties idea is perfect, but you better go ahead and put a shirt on or I’m going to fuck you myself, right now.” Then he looked away and added, “Hurry up so we can get going.”

“Where’re we going?”

He didn’t look at me.

“Should I wear t-shirt? Or a nice blouse?” I asked, stepping backward toward our bedroom.

“Wear the sluttiest top you can come up with.”

That got my attention. Not him using the word “sluttiest”. I’m used to that because he calls me “slut” all the time. And for good reason—I can’t get enough. However and whenever he wants to fuck me, I’m ready. Sometimes I think I’ll never, ever get enough sex. Before Troy and I got married, I was pretty wild. There isn’t much I haven’t tried. But I was doing a good job of keeping my unusually intense sex drive a secret from my husband. Or at least I thought I was. It was on that Thursday night that I learned he’d known the truth about me for a while.

Not only did he know the truth. He planned to exploit it for his own pleasure.

Right before we left our condo, he made me stand in front of him and stick out my chest.

“Take your bra off.”

“I can’t go out like that! What if someone sees me?”

“They will see you. That’s the idea. I want everyone to be able to see your hard nipples.”

I tried to slip past him to get to the door but he blocked me. “Take it off and hand it to me. Or I’ll rip it off myself.”

I know it sounds terrible, but I love it when he talks that way. I know if I asked him to stop using that tone with me, he would. Instantly. But I never do because his rough commands make my pussy so hot and wet, I wouldn’t even consider telling him to stop.

So, I did what I always do—exactly what he wants. I slipped my sparkly pink t-shirt over my head and handed it to him. Then I took off my bra and handed him that. He reached out and pinched each of my nipples, and then sucked on them until they were both tight and incredibly stiff.

“I expect you to keep them hard all night. If you don’t, I’ll lift your shirt up and take care of it myself. I won’t care who sees me sucking on your tits.”

A shiver went down my back and settled in my pussy. The kind of shiver that doesn’t go away until it’s good and ready. Or until Troy fucks it out of me. I put my shirt back on and looked down. Sure enough, the hard points of my nipples were clearly showing.
Troy nodded with a sharp tip of his head. “Turn around,” he barked.

I did, pivoting on my strappy platform sandals. Once my back was to him, he lifted my tiny black skirt. “No panties. Good girl.” Then he smacked my bare ass several times, keeping at it until my ass stung. Then he walked out.

Damn him for getting me so turned on and then leaving! I rushed after him, walking as fast as I could in the stripper heels and doing my best to ignore the bouncing of my tits. Outside, a couple of our neighbors were chatting near their cars but were too far away to get a clear look at me. Troy was already getting into his car.

The sun had just set when we pulled out of the parking lot but the air was still really hot. The kind of weather you expect in Southern California in August. Steamy and sensual. As we drove, the crowded city faded into the distance and the traffic thinned. After a while, Troy turned off the freeway and headed down one of the smaller roads that run up and down the coast. When we got close to the ocean, I unrolled my window and breathed in the thick, salty air.

Troy didn’t say anything as we passed through the towns along the water. It wasn’t the kind of quiet when he’s upset, but the kind when he’s excited or anxious or just considering something important. So I didn’t worry about him not talking. I looked out the window and tried not to think about the fact that only a tiny layer of fabric separated my bare pussy from Troy’s view.

As we went farther down the coastline, the buildings became smaller and closer together but it was obvious that everyone who lived along the coast was loaded. The yards were landscaped with flowers, beach grasses and fan palms, and lit with soft spotlights. Many of the houses were tall and narrow, with parking garages on the ground level and living spaces above. It was a neighborhood way out of our price range, that was for sure.

Another thing I was sure of—we didn’t know anyone who lived here. Or maybe it was just me who didn’t know anyone, otherwise why would Troy bring us here?

After a long while, Troy turned off the main road and started checking the map on his phone. My curiosity was making me so jittery, each minute dragged, but finally he parked. Once he cut the engine, he turned to me and put his hand on my leg. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“More than the moon loves the stars,” I said, repeating our special phrase.

“That’s right. And I always will.” He slid his hand up my leg. “I know about the porn.”

My mind went blank.

Was that what he’d been thinking about during the drive? Heavy silence settled between us until I broke it with words, even though I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to say. I explained abo43164221245ed4ea5d9fea384dcd9f53ut a girl at work telling me to check out a particular site and how the site made me curious, so I kept looking… And I kept babbling, telling most but not all of the truth, until he cut me off.

“It’s okay. I love you, Abby. And I know what you need—so I’m going to make sure you get it.”

I started to talk again, telling him how much I loved him and that he always satisfied me, but he cut me off a second time by kissing me firmly on the mouth. His hard kiss stirred up all that lust that had brewing since he’d told me to change clothes. Within a minute, I was panting and reaching for his belt. He guided my hands away with a smile and laugh.

“No, no. Tonight is going to be different. For one thing, you aren’t in charge.”

“What else?” I asked, eager to know.

He shook his head and climbed out of the car. “Follow me and find out.”

I jogged after him, this time glancing around to see if anyone might spot me and guess who, or what, I was—a horny wife with no panties who liked to get bossed around by her husband so much, she lets him call her a slut and make her go out in public looking like a hooker.

Here’s the truth—I hadn’t been so turned on in weeks. Months. Maybe years. Maybe ever. My pussy was so slick, my juices were dripping onto my thighs.

Even though there were many homes, we were the only people on the street. The air was salty and the ocean rumbled in the distance. The house he led me to had a long flight of stairs up to the small front porch, and low, bass-filled dance music thumped from behind the door, which opened before we’d even knocked.

We stepped inside and were greeted by a man standing in a large foyer that had a pair of doors on one side, a table and hanging mirror on the other. With his clean-shaven head, black goatee and giant shoulders, he looked like a bouncer, which I guess is what he was. Troy handed him his driver’s license and the guy checked a list on a clipboard and nodded.

The man gave Troy his license back and then set the clipboard on the table. He looked me up and down, his gaze gliding over my body with care and interest. “Nice choice, sir. She’ll be a welcome addition here.”

A lot of girls might start asking questions at this point, but I trust my husband completely. He would never put me in danger or take me somewhere I didn’t want to go. One thing I was sure of—this night had something to do with sex, so I was all in.

“Thanks. She’s my wife.” Pride deepened Troy’s voice. By this point I wasn’t quite my usual self and the compliment really got to me. I shimmied a bit, making my breasts wiggle beneath the sparkly shirt.

The man’s white teeth flashed brightly when he smiled. Then he took something from a basket on the floor and handed it to Troy. It was a long, bright-pink sash with a bow tied in the middle.

“Put this around your waist,” Troy said, holding it out to me.

The fabric was smooth against my palm. “Don’t you get one?” I asked, hoping to get a smile from him.

“No. I don’t.”

I fastened the ribbon using the tiny silver buckle attached. The other man stepped over and adjusted the bow so it rested on the curve of my ass.

All of a sudden I understood. I was a walking present—but for who?

The man patted my butt and then gave me a gentle push. “Enjoy yourselves.”

Troy put his arm around me as we walked down the hall. He stopped at the end and looked at my face, his gaze serious. He kissed me on the mouth, letting his warm lips linger above mine just a second longer than I expected before lifting his head and taking my hand.

Three steps later I was in the living room—and instantly took two steps back.

Troy caught my retreat and guided me forward by wrapping his arm firmly behind my back. I continued to move forward with him as my gaze roamed the room.

Get started at the beach with Cuckold Beach 1: Pink Bow

Professor and multi-genre author Isabelle Drake doesn’t shy away from a writing challenge. She’ll create a charming, reserved, young adult heroine, then turn around and give life a wall-climbing zombie who acquires men to service her dark sexual needs. During her early writing days, Isabelle drove an ice cream truck, had a couple gigs as the mall Easter Bunny, and spent too much time reading classic Betty & Veronica comics. Now that she gets to spend more time writing, she’s given up the quirky jobs…but not the vintage comics. Find her all around social media as IsabelleDrake or stop by her website www.isabelledrake.com

Remember, comment below–or on any post published today, November 25–and be entered to win a Simply Sinful basket of book goodness. Giveaway closes at midnight (Eastern), November 25, 2016.

Next up in the Lady Smut Simply Sinful Reader Event is Madeline Iva at 1 P.M. EST

Cuckolding: the femdom lifestyle

8 Jul

By Isabelle Drake

A married woman having sex with a man who isn’t her husband? Yes. A married woman having sex with a man who isn’t her husband–and he arranges it? Yes. And–he watches it? And likes it? Yep.

About two years ago, before I was a Lady Smut regular, I wrote a Fetish 101 post on cuckolding. I offered up the basics: a cuckold marriage is one in which the husband selects men for his wife to have sex with. As with all sexual preferences, there are variations. The husband may or may not watch the couple having sex. He may or may not participate.

There are commonalities. Most often:

  • The husband is the one who first suggests they adopt the lifestyle.
  • The couple has been married for ten or more years and consider their marriage a happy, successful one.
  • The couple hides their choice because mainstream society has a harsh, negative view of this lifestyle.

Order-cuckoldry-ca1815-French-satireIt’s this last point that intrigues me. Ever since I began writing cuckold stories, I have found that many people, even those who consider themselves accepting and open-minded, disapprove of this type of marriage. Errol Gluck, a radio host, did an hour-long radio show,  Cuckolds: Men Who Share Their Wives, on the topic. Although he claimed to be open to the idea of accepting the practice, it is clear that he did not. Questions such as What do they tell their children? show both his lack of respect for the married couples and his inability, or maybe its unwillingness, to take the topic seriously.

To be clear, a cuckold marriage is not an open or a polyamorous one. Those marriages are, in my mind, more fluid in definition and in practice. Specifically, both partners are involved in sex outside the marriage and both partners may develop deep emotional bonds outside the two-person pairing. In a cuckold marriage, the wife alone participates in sex outside the marriage and that sex is for physical gratification only. She does not love the sexual partners as she loves her husband. Her deep emotional loyalty belongs to her husband alone.

In our culture, we value the emotional loyalty of monogamy. Dr. Shirley P Glass, in her book NOT “Just Friends”: Protect your relationship from infidelity and heal the trauma of betrayal , writes in great depth about the new threats to marriages. “In the new infidelity, one doesn’t have to have sex to be unfaithful. In fact, secret emotional attachments outside a marriage can be just as great a betrayal as extramarital sex. When sex and emotional involvement combine … the threat to the marriage is more catastrophic-much more so than traditional affairs used to be. In the current crisis of infidelity, men are more likely to fall in love with their affair partners-in the past, they were more likely to have uncomplicated sexual liaisons. Today, women are also getting more sexually involved than they did in previous generations.” Using extensive research, she supports her position that more now than in the past, men are seeking deeper emotional connections while women are seeking greater sexual satisfaction. Given that the cuckold marriage provides for both of these needs, perhaps it is not surprising that the practice of this lifestyle is on the rise.

Who, you ask, are these individuals picking up this not-so-unique habit?  Anneli Rufus may have been the first to dub this particular fetish The Intellectual Sex Fetish, but others have also supported the idea that it is a more common practice of highly educated professionals. The theory is that these individuals are better able to understand the complex psychological dynamics behind the practice and are therefore better able to exploit them to their benefit. One of these dynamics is the element of erotic humiliation.

Theories that seek to explain why erotic humiliation works focus on the physiological and emotional responses to humiliation. The area of the brain that responds to emotional tinydickcuckold1pain, including humiliation, is the same as the one that responds to physical pain. Thus, humiliation is a very strong emotional trigger. That emotional trigger requires a significant amount of mental manipulation as the person being humiliated finds a way to “deal with it.” One method of “dealing with it,” or managing the emotional pain, is to disassociate, to set aside ones normal identity. This break from identity leads to a temporary loss of self-awareness, loss of focus on oneself as seen by others and ultimately relaxation. This combination naturally enhances sexual pleasure and allows for the husband to enjoy watching or thinking about his wife being sexually active with another man. And so, when a person is humiliated to the point of loss of self-awareness, and physical pleasure is introduced, the likelihood of ultimate sexual release and satisfaction is achieved.

Do I have more to say about the complexities of the cuckold lifestyle? Such as the intricate differences between male and female orgasms and how women are aroused by different types of men at different points in the menstrual cycle? Yes, I do. But  I’ll save those for next time.

For now, I’ll offer up a short excerpt from the first in my Cuckold Beach series. So you can get a taste for how this lifestyle can make a hot, fun fantasy.

~~~

Pink Bow

Get your copy for .99.

Cuckold Beach 1: Pink Bow excerpt:

Troy didn’t say anything as we passed through the towns along the water. It wasn’t the kind of quiet when he’s upset, but the kind when he’s excited or anxious or just considering something important. So I didn’t worry about him not talking. I looked out the window and tried not to think about the fact that only a tiny layer of fabric separated my bare pussy from Troy’s view.

As we went farther down the coastline, the buildings became smaller and closer together but it was obvious that everyone who lived along the coast was loaded. The yards were landscaped with flowers, beach grasses and fan palms, and lit with soft spotlights. Many of the houses were tall and narrow, with parking garages on the ground level and living spaces above. It was a neighborhood way out of our price range, that was for sure.

Another thing I was sure of—we didn’t know anyone who lived here. Or maybe it was just me who didn’t know anyone, otherwise why would Troy bring us here?

After a long while, Troy turned off the main road and started checking the map on his phone. My curiosity was making me so jittery, each minute dragged, but finally he parked. Once he cut the engine, he turned to me and put his hand on my leg. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“More than the moon loves the stars,” I said, repeating our special phrase.

“That’s right. And I always will.” He slid his hand up my leg. “I know about the porn.”

My mind went blank.

Was that what he’d been thinking about during the drive? Heavy silence settled between us until I broke it with words, even though I didn’t know exactly what I wanted to say. I explained about a girl at work telling me to check out a particular site and how the site made me curious, so I kept looking… And I kept babbling, telling most but not all of the truth, until he cut me off.

“It’s okay. I love you, Abby. And I know what you need—so I’m going to make sure you get it.”

I started to talk again, telling him how much I loved him and that he always satisfied me, but he cut me off a second time by kissing me firmly on the mouth. His hard kiss stirred up all that lust that had brewing since he’d told me to change clothes. Within a minute, I was panting and reaching for his belt. He guided my hands away with a smile and laugh.

“No, no. Tonight is going to be different. For one thing, you aren’t in charge.”

“What else?” I asked, eager to know.

He shook his head and climbed out of the car. “Follow me and find out.”

~~~

Here at Lady Smut we know you want to be informed, entertained, and kept up to date. So follow us, and ‘cause we’re here to make sure you’re satisfied.

~~~

Isabelle Drake writes erotica, erotic romance, urban fantasy, and young adult thrillers. You can also check out her erotic, zombie erotica right here, every Sunday, on Lady Smut.

Blow and pop, the balloon fetish 101

10 Jun

Isabelle Drake’s Fetish 101

large.jpgImagine you’re doing an internet search for balloons for a seven-year old’s birthday party. You type in best balloons for fun and find a shopping site called Balloon Party. Sounds good, so you click on the link. Up pops a picture of two women in bikinis. One is holding a medium size pink balloon between her breasts, the other, facing away from you, is seated on a huge clear balloon, looking back over her shoulder. Yes, you can see her flattened ass through the latex. Both women look like they are having the time of their lives. Instinctively you know, this isn’t quite the site you were looking for.

Nope, balloons aren’t just for kids. Yep, you’ve stumbled into and adult store. In this case, one that caters to balloon fetishists.

s-l300.jpgA person with a balloon fetish may be turned on by balloons being blown up, sat on, “played” with, or popped. Theories of sexual imprinting suggest that an early childhood experience, typically before age 14, sparks a person’s sexual interest which may later lead to the formation of kinks and fetishes. So, like other fetishes, the beginnings of this sexual interest are believed to form as the result of a childhood experience. One interesting difference with the balloon fetish is that an early childhood fear, in this case the sharp pop of a balloon exploding, may be the source of the fetish.

Characteristics of balloons that may be the source of the initial attraction are the bright colors and sense of fun–as they are often present at parties or other celebrations. The sensory qualities of the balloon are also intriguing: smooth texture and distinctive scent. Most notable though, the balloon’s almost magical ability to change from something very small to something very large.

Balloon fetishists can be divided into three groups:

  • Non-poppers do not enjoy seeing or hearing balloons popped. These are the people who are most likely to have had a phobia of balloons.
  • Poppers love to see and hear balloons being popped and may also enjoy seeing the balloons being torturing or tested. These enthusiasts may even orgasm at the sight and sound of balloons popping.
  • Semi-poppers like to experiment with the limits of balloons and may in the transitioning non-popper to popper.

f55f88db9f64d90bb5e68c4314775754.jpgLike other fetishes, once you know about the existence of it you’ll start seeing it in popular culture. In the cult favorite film, The Girl From Starship Venus, the alien girl meets a fellow with a balloon fetish. The controversial horror film The Poughkeepsie Tapes also features a character with a balloon fetish.

This ‘n that about balloon fetishists:

  • Key search words for the internet: balloon fetish, looner, popper, and buster.
  • Typical looners are typically 25-25.
  • A variation is the Bubblegum Balloon Fetish where the fetishist is turned on by watching another person blow up balloons or bubbles with bubblegum. This can be done as foreplay, blowing the bubblegum bubbles up against another’s body for example.
  • Looners do not find children with balloons sexually intriguing and may be appalled by pictures of children with balloons.
  • Looners enjoy balloons externally.
  • It is mostly an interest for men. Some accounts rate the difference as 1 to 30 another 1 in 100.
  • Related fetishes are body inflation, latex and PVC wear, and infantilism.
  • Discovery Channel’s Forbidden: The Balloon Fetish offers a great overview.

pin_up_7_by_ballooner01-d5ajtef.jpgDoes all this make you wonder what pretty girls playing with balloons looks like? Try Beauty girls balloons games. Another one, Balloon girls, is five and a half minutes of two sexy girls rubbing balloons on themselves while they perch on a bed. I hope they were well paid for the filming because this looks to be perhaps the five most boring minutes of their life.

Curious about what attraction to inflatables looks like in real life? Try watching I Love My Inflatable Animals | My Strange Addiction.

So, next time you’re at the party supply store and see and 27 year old guy buying six bags of balloons…maybe you want to ask him what he’s up to? Or, maybe not.

Here at Lady Smut we know you want to be informed, entertained, and kept up to date. So follow us, and ‘cause we’re here to make sure you’re satisfied.

~~~

Isabelle Drake writes erotica, erotic romance, urban fantasy, and young adult thrillers. Best Friends Never, her newest release is the first in the Cherry Grove dark YA series. You can also check out her erotic, zombie erotica right here, every Sunday, on Lady Smut.

Sexual empowerment on our own terms

19 Feb

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Recently, actress Emily Ratajkowski wrote an essay about female sexuality for Lenny Letter that I resonated with me. She detailed the ways we tell women that sexuality is something to be hidden, contained, dangerous, whether it’s a teenager whose bra strap is showing or too much lip gloss. As she put it:

The implication is that to be sexual is to be trashy because being sexy means playing into men’s desires. To me, “sexy” is a kind of beauty, a kind of self-expression, one that is to be celebrated, one that is wonderfully female. Why does the implication have to be that sex is a thing men get to take from women and women give up?

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Emily Ratajkowski via Facebook

This reminded me of a time a few years ago when I was wearing one of my favorite dresses, a turquoise short-sleeved number with a ruffled on top and a zipper that lands between my breasts. I’ve worn it on dates, but considered it classy enough to wear to temple with my family. A man I didn’t know wouldn’t stop talking to me; I was polite but kept trying to avoid him. My mom implied that it was my dress; if I’d been more covered up, he would have left me alone.

What kind of world do we live in where it’s our job as women to constantly second guess what men might think of what we wear, what signals they imagine we are sending? It also reminded me of Christen Brandt’s viral Facebook post, where she detailed being sexually harassed this winter while wearing this outfit:

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Brandt wrote:

Next time you wonder whether your skirt is too short, next time you ask your teen daughter to change her clothes, or the next time you hear about school dress codes in the news, remember this photo.

I am in a fucking parka and boots. 

And it. doesn’t. matter.

But this post isn’t just about the ways our sexuality and our bodies can be used against us, but about how reclaiming our sex appeal after we’ve been shamed, can be part of our process of digging out from under all that sexism and cultural baggage telling us what we should or shouldn’t do with our bodies. I just finished the first of three linked erotic romances, Everything I Left Unsaid by M. O’Keefe (aka Molly O’Keefe).

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What stood out for me is that the heroine, Annie, a domestic violence survivor who’s fled from her husband after he tried to kill her, is fighting back against a lifetime of shame not just about her sexuality but about her very existence. She’s been told for too long that she’s essentially worthless, but has cobbled together a new life for herself that she’s starting to test out.

With the help of steamy phone calls from a sexy stranger, Dylan, she starts to piece herself back together, but at her own pace. What I especially loved about the book is that a large part of the sex here isn’t about one-on-one in-person action, but at a remove, with Annie protected by the safety of the phone, by the fake name she uses at first. She is able to ease into discovering what turns her on because she’s able to tap into all the parts of herself she’s had to hide for so long. O’Keefe writes:

I slipped one finger past the sharp elastic, pulling the other side harder against my skin, which made me gasp and pull it tighter, until the elastic brushed up against my clit.

“Oh my God,” I breathed and then, experimenting, I pulled both sides of my underwear down between my lips and I nearly shot off the bed. Carefully, I used the pressure, slow and driving, sharp and fast, to find out what I liked better.

And the truth was—I liked it all. Even the touches that didn’t add to the stone-rolling-downhill of orgasm, I liked. The side trip of my fingers agains the skin of my leg. The act of pushing my hair—sweaty and damp—off my face. The lift of one arm up over my head.

It was as if my body—which had seemed my entire life to be stupid and heavy, an entity to be pushed and smacked, a blind and dumb feature made only for work, its only skill a certain kind of stillness, a trick of getting smaller so as not to be seen—had been transformed.

No, not transformed. Not really.

It was as if I’d found buried beneath the skin a secret wisdom. A dark knowledge.

Like it had just been waiting for me to find it.

A woman pushing her hair off her face might not seem like such a momentous act, and it might not be for most characters. But the point here is that Annie is exploring herself for the first time, getting to know what kinds of touch and sensations her body responds to. Her masturbation scenes are a refreshing and vital part of the novel because they allow her to later open herself up to getting naked in front of Dylan literally, not just figuratively.

For Annie, sex was a thing her husband took, not something where her pleasure was ever truly considered. It was something to get through, something he controlled entirely. Reading about her transformation, seeing her stand up for herself to Dylan, and having him appreciate her for her gumption, made this one of my favorite recent romance reads.

Like Ratajkowski, Annie doesn’t disown sex even though it’s been presented to her as dangerous. And even though it’s a love story (one with, warning, a cliffhanger ending), O’Keefe makes it clear that Annie isn’t “saved” by Dylan simply because she falls for him. She saves herself, and her sexual journey is one about unlocking what’s inside her.

Ratajkowski also wrote in her essay:

Where can girls look to see women who find empowerment in deciding when and how to be or feel sexual? Even if being sexualized by society’s gaze is demeaning, there must be a space where women can still be sexual when they choose to be.

That’s something I look for when I read erotic romance and erotica as well as in the real world, and heroines like Annie are wonderful examples of women who don’t simply accept the way sex is presented to them by the world, but look for ways to make sex their own.

 

Getting naked on the page about my sex life in 2015

18 Dec

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

I wrote more published words this year than I ever have in my life, so taking stock of my sex writing in 2015 feels a little daunting. But when I do, a theme emerges: radical honesty.

Since my teen years in high school, when I was still a virgin, I’ve always written about myself, and felt no shame in doing so. When I started having sex and, a few years later, using sex toys, writing about that seemed like a natural segue. That hasn’t changed even though I’m now 40.

I will admit that over the last just-about-four years of dating my current boyfriend, I’ve had to reconsider my commitment to writing about my sexuality, because most of the time, that involves writing about him too. It’s a tricky balance, especially when one person (me!) pretty much doesn’t believe in TMI (too much information) and the other is extremely private. In such a situation, of course there have to be compromises.

For instance: my guy did a photo shoot with me on my birthday for a New York Post article on couples who sleep in separate bedrooms. I think he may have even enjoyed it, but when we got the full-color printed version of the newspaper, he could hardly stand to see himself in it. It’s not his thing, but he did it for me anyway. Yes, he’s a keeper.

newyorkpostseparatebeds

One of the reasons I fell in love with him and remain both in love with him and proud to have him as my partner is that my guy gives me carte blanche to write about my life, even the parts of it he’d rather I kept to myself, and that includes our sex life. The freedom to explore and learn and grow and, yes, further my writing career, has meant the world to me. The way my mind works is that I can’t really know myself until I’ve written down whatever I’m thinking. I’ve been that way for as long as I can remember, and I don’t think that will change.

When I teach workshops about how to write about your sex life, I try to instill in my students the belief that they own their story. That doesn’t mean that you should be using someone else’s full name and extremely detailed description, but that you shouldn’t feel guilty for telling your truth. I also ask them to think about why they are writing; what purpose do they want their intimate tale to serve?

It’s a question I’ve asked myself often over the years, and what I’ve discovered is that it’s not just about being an exhibitionist via words. It’s about connecting with other people, sharing something that, while it may not be explicitly educational, makes them feel as if they know a little bit about me and perhaps, in turn, know, or find out through introspection, a little more about themselves. I write about my sex life because I want to demystify sex and because I gain insights into my own life.

One reason knowing why you’re writing is so important is that then you know how to separate yourself, as a person, from who you see on the page. For example, I wrote a short essay about my sex life for the October 2015 issue of O, The Oprah Magazine, about how my boyfriend and I schedule sex, and that we do it in one main position. This felt risky for me, because even though I still identify as kinky and put out a new book of BDSM erotica, Dirty Dates, this year, I felt like I was implying that I’m as basic as you can get in the bedroom.

Then I pushed myself a little bit more: why exactly did I care what anyone else thinks about my sex life, which exists only between my boyfriend and me? Yes, I may have admitted that I use lube every single time I have sex and detailed exactly how we use a Liberator wedge pillow during sex, but that doesn’t take away the specialness of what we do in bed.

sexpillowwedgeliberator

photo via Liberator.com (no, I don’t look quite like that when I’m using one of these)

I’m not arguing that everyone should or wants to be as transparent about their sexuality as I am. Many of us channel aspects of our personal lives into our fiction (though please, please, please don’t ever assume when you’re reading romance or erotica that it’s based on real life; if you wouldn’t make those assumptions about a murder mystery, don’t make them about sex in fiction). But I think some people were simply born to be literary exhibitionists. For some of us, writing about our naked, raw, unfiltered sexuality is as natural as breathing.

The trick, I’ve found, is that no matter how personal I get, it doesn’t mean that I’ve revealed 100% of myself for anyone else. I haven’t even revealed 100% of myself to myself, which is why life remains interesting and I have new things to write about. What’s “too personal” to one writer might be no big deal to another. For instance, writing about trying to get pregnant feels more revealing to me than the mechanics of how I fuck. Yet that article on baby-making sex is one of the ones I’m most proud of from 2015, because I got to talk to people about a topic that is often shrouded in mystery. It’s assumed that, well, you know what to do, and you just do more of it at the right time and voila, you’re parents. For some of us, that’s not so easy, and can cause strain in a relationship. That’s perhaps the less “sexy” side of sex, but still an interesting one. I’d love to read about that in a romance (if you know of romances that deal with fertility issues in a tasteful way, I’d love to hear about them!).

On a less personal and more political note, I wrote about why the whole “dad bod” notion leaves out sexy fat guys, and why that’s a problem. I’m tired of the equation of “thin” with “sexy,” when it comes to both men and women. Yes, Fashion Santa, the 51-year-old male model who’s posing for selfies at a Canadian mall, has caused a sensation this Christmas season, but when we only fetishize thin men or women, we leave so many people out of the equation.

In case you missed them, here at Lady Smut, I wrote about why silver foxes are sexy (and that it’s okay to have the hots for someone literally twice your age), the human side of sex dolls, and offered up a moving-themed erotica story inspired by the fact that in January, I’ll have moved four times in four years!

My “getting naked” in this post’s title isn’t just about sex writing, though. It’s about being true to ourselves. This year, I discovered podcasts (I know, what took me so long, right?) and they have become a major part of my life. One of my favorite podcasters, Tiffany Han of Raise Your Hand. Say Yes., asked some very important questions in a recent blog post, including, “What would happen if you honored yourself and your own opinions as much as you honor everyone else’s?”

What does that have to do with sex, and romance, and writing? Everything. You don’t have to agree with me, or any other writer, or your friends, family, lover(s), coworkers, etc., in order to contribute to the conversation. Your words don’t have to look like anyone else’s or conform to known categories or types or fetishes. You might be inspired by role models or mentors, or you might choose to strike out on your own path. My 2015 takeaway: whatever route you choose, go for it wholeheartedly. Believe in your vision, your dream, your talent, yourself. If I’ve learned anything about the world, it’s that people will appreciate you offering a version of you that’s real.

The Joy of Food Porn

21 Aug

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Food porn. I love the way those two words sound together, and what they represent, both the glossy, mouth-watering food photography worthy of Pinterest or Instagram, and those images’ more literary counterparts. I don’t have as much experience with actually XXX video food porn, but that’s its own niche. Unlike, say, terms like “real estate porn,” which I tend to find a perversion of the word “porn,” I make an exception for “food porn” because I find an undeniable sensualness to it, a link to the reasons we consume erotic materials and food.

I love to write about food in my erotica and assign my students the task. Why? Because food is familiar; we all have to eat, and, like sex, most of us have highly specific preferences about what kinds of food we desire, how we want them prepared, and our preferred locales for eating them. Plus, we use our mouths to eat, and to kiss, and to lick, suck, swallow. Also like sex, we use all our senses when we eat, playing off the visual cues as well as our memories of what it was like to eat a particular food. Food erotica can make us hungry for both sex and our next meal, and combining the two can be taboo, exciting or add a different dimension to our smut.

Food itself is often funny, whether we’re grossed out by someone’s eating habits, intrigued, or simply amazed. Food erotica scenarios abound: the close quarters of a food truck, a vegetarian wooing a carnivore, lovers introducing each other to rare delicacies, comparing pain tolerance in BDSM with how spicy you can take your meals, sneaking food we aren’t “supposed” to eat—I could go on and on. While yes, there are some people who are blasé about food, seeing it as little more than an obligation of sustenance, many others are passionate about their food favorites. Witness the scene in Chef, when Carl Casper, played by Jon Favreau, goes apeshit on a critic who dared to criticize his molten chocolate lava cake, berating him in front of a roomful of diners, which then goes viral on YouTube.

We’re all one Michele Bachmann corn dog photo away from a sexy food moment, intentional or not, if you look at our comestibles in the right light. I mean, if someone wrote good pea guacamole erotica, I’d totally read it, because it’s already a meme that’s been poked fun of umpteen times, but not, to my knowledge, properly fetishized.

I’ve found restaurants to be one of my favorite places to set erotica, again because of the familiarity factor. Plus, eating in a restaurant automatically ups any hint of food play, even the offering of a spoonful of a rich, creamy dessert, a level of exhibitionism you won’t necessarily find at home. I played that up in my story “I’ll Have What She’s Having” in the anthology Exposure, about a woman who’s paid to sit in a restaurant window and eat in a sexy manner, told from the point of view of the restaurant owner who hires her. Who wouldn’t love that job? Here’s a snippet:

What Pam did was eat her meal with more gusto and sex appeal than I’d ever witnessed anyone consume anything. She had a serene glamour to her, and each bite of every single dish was savored obsessively, in the manner of a true foodie, with her eyes closed, her head tilted slightly, like the food was taking her to another planet, or maybe another dimension. She wasn’t so much ignoring Brad as giving every ounce of her attention over to the meal. The chef in me was riveted, and the man in me was very, very aroused.

 I wasn’t the only one staring. Brad, who I’d later meet, eventually gave up on his danish as Pam gave a performance that would’ve gotten Meg Ryan replaced on the set of When Harry Met Sally. Her sleek black bob shimmered in the light playing off her pale skin, her eyes were closed and her head tilted back so we could practically see the food being swallowed. A quick survey of the room proved that many other diners had found their afternoon’s entertainment, right in front of them, at no extra cost.

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As a reader, I love food erotica that takes me somewhere new and different, especially with a food—or beverage—I consume every day. That’s why I was eager to devour the new Circlet Press anthology Coffee: Hot, even though science fiction and fantasy erotica are not my usual reading materials (I tend to be too literal-minded to be able to properly indulge other worlds). But as a die hard coffee drinker, I was curious to see the sensual heights these authors took my beloved beverage, and they didn’t disappoint, especially “Dark Roast” by Justin Josh, about a gorlon on a spaceship with magic tentacles that produce a coffee-like liquid that makes the narrator willing to submit to its erotic torments to get it:

It began to lightly spank my ass. I trembled with ecstasy. The pleasure was getting stronger and stronger. I needed a release! But it was in total control. When would it let me come?

 Suddenly it maneuvered me slightly and I felt a tentacle enter my mouth. No, it was one of the boils. It was squirting coffee down my throat. I guzzled the liquid gratefully. It coursed through my entire body, heightening my already dizzying state of bliss.

At the same time, the gorlon began to work my body even harder. I could feel it fucking my ass back and forth, while two tentacles held my hips, rocking them. It kept my cock tightly gripped in its lips, bringing me right to the brink of climax and keeping me captive there.

(I do have to point out that the story has one of the funniest typos I’ve ever seen, which should offer you a powerful reminder of the power of proofreading: “Suddenly I felt it envelope my cock.”)

In my family, amongst my friends, and in my relationship, food is a major topic of discussion. What I’m eating, what I’m planning to eat, new ways to prepare dishes, unusual ingredients, are all daily fodder, which means I’m constantly surrounded by story ideas. One of my favorites, “French Fried,” was inspired by a friend telling me about a scene she witnessed in Paris, of a woman eating french fries from a plate with a flame beneath it to keep them perfectly warm. There was something so charming about that image, to me, so elegant and devoted to the art of the fry, that I turned it the story that appears in Best Lesbian Romance 2012:

“Sit, sil vous plais. Share?” Her English is halting, but lovely, the words striking tones you just don’t hear in the States. I nod, staring at her, soaking her in, from the round arches of her eyebrows, to the fine black pencil lining her brown eyes, the lashes lush, the cheeks rosy. She is staring at me intently, and only breaks the stare to lift a fry with her fingers and hold it out to my lips. “Open,” she says, and I do; I couldn’t have done otherwise.

 The fry is the best thing I’ve ever tasted. It’s warm and perfectly cooked through, salty, with a hint of some kind of spice. But what heats my mouth even more is the way Veronique is looking at me. Her eyes are taking in my entire face, wide, trusting, seeking, and her are red and beautiful. One someone else the color might look overbearing, a vamp on the prowl, but on her it manages to look both innocent and seductive. I’m not afraid of her in the least, nor of her hungry eyes just waiting to devour me like I am doing to the fries. The fork lingers between her perfectly manicured fingers, but she puts it down, then picks up another fry and runs it along my lower lip. I dart out my tongue, teasing the fry, running my tongue up its length, licking the salt off.

I’d venture there’s no food a good writer can’t bring to life in erotica. Our tastes in food are subjective, but the ability to convey why a particular food, whether it’s a beloved dessert, a familiar aphrodisiac or an often-reviled vegetable, turns a character on. Is it the food itself, or the person preparing—or wielding—it? Does the mere sight of that food make the character blush and squirm? In my upcoming anthology Dirty Dates, in my story “Admitting It Is The First Step,” I turn a woman playing up the phallic nature of sausages into a public D/s scene. Food porn has endless possibilities, which is what I most treasure about it.

What foods have you written—or read—about in erotica? Is there any food that’s too out there for you to ever think about in a sexy way?

“That’s all you have? I am not impressed”: Erotic Humiliation 101

12 Jun

By Isabelle Drake

Erotic humiliation can take many forms; verbal, such as scolding or name calling; animal play, making the submission eat or drink from pet bowls; erotic objectification, requiring the submissive is used as furniture, or  any form of sexual embarrassment. Obviously, the spectrum is vast but the basics are pretty simple: it’s any time a consensual person is turned on by being demeaned or demeaning others.

Typically the person being humiliated is in a submissive role, the person administering the scolding or other embarrassment is dominant. However, it is important to note that note all BDSM relationships have humiliation as an element and those that do are likely to consider it edgeplay and thus use a safeword and extensive advance negotiations.

The range of possibilities for humiliation is as vast as the possibilities so the key to successful humiliation is to know what a specific individual finds offensive. Practitioners of erotic humiliation emphasize the that a high level of trust and communication will enhance the overall experience. Those who are being humiliated seek pain, not injury, and so the person administering the humiliation must be both skilled and attuned to the submissive’s individual needs. For example, a person being forced to call another ‘Sir’ or ‘Madam’ may find that objectionable, and thus humiliating, while another may not. A person who enjoys ponyplay will most likely not be humiliated by being told to trot around a room while others watch.

The theories that seek to explain why erotic humiliation works focus on the physiological and emotional responses to humiliation. The area of the brain that responds to emotional pain, including humiliation, is the same as the one that responds to physical pain. Thus, humiliation is a very strong emotional trigger. That emotional trigger requires a significant amount of mental manipulation as the person being humiliated finds a way to “deal with it.” One method of “dealing with it,” or managing the emotional pain, is to disassociate, to set aside ones normal identity. This break from identity leads to a temporary loss of self-awareness, loss of focus on oneself as seen by others and ultimately relaxation. This combination naturally enhances sexual pleasure. And so, when a person is humiliated to the point of loss of self-awareness, and physical pleasure is introduced, the likelihood of ultimate sexual release and satisfaction is achieved.

Recent research emphasizes that those who participate in masochism are “normal” and that the practice may be a response to the “overgrown selfhood of modern Western society.” That is, humiliation play is a healthy and productive way to deal with everyday stress because it allows the person being humiliated to set everyday identity and experience sexual pleasure in a pure form.

Like to see some of this in action? The French film Belle de Jour is an erotic humiliation classic. The main character, a doctor’s wife, feels disconnected from her husband and seeks relief from her emotional pain. She begins a double life: call girl by day, proper Parisian housewife by night.

The film, starring Catherine Deneuve is a visual feast. The trailer gives you a taste. The whole thing is worth hunting down. I suggest watching it twice. The first time for the story, the second to catch the subtle things you missed the first time.

Guys, want to be talked down to by some hot ladies?

Try: Humiliatrix

Ladies, want to info on how to humiliate guys?

Check out: Verbal Humiliation and Domination 101

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