“Six Myths about Sex and Gender, Busted,” by Anna North, via Jezebel. (Yeah, yeah, I read Jezebel–I wouldn’t have stumbled on an article in Current Directions in Psychological Science otherwise.) Surprise, surprise. “Gendered” behaviors and personality traits aren’t hardwired into our brains–they are conditioned. But rather than finding statistics to bust various myths, the study authors tried to identify and account for various cultural factors that might influence the data. It’s nice to see a predominantly quantitative study in a “hard science” journal sneak in some observation-based theories to foreground the data (and of course, to encourage further studies). Some … [read more]
That morning, he took a shower first, and he was supposed to dress and go downstairs to make breakfast while I showered in peace. He knows that he isn’t supposed to watch me bathe unless I give him permission. I don’t like being “caught” scrubbing my pink parts while someone ogles me without my knowledge–I’m fairly easily embarrassed. I don’t mind being watched, but I prefer to know so that I can ensure my bathing is more sexy than utilitarian. Unfortunately, because of the odd layout of my master bedroom and bathroom, configuration of vanity mirrors, and 180° glass shower … [read more]
figging, n.: The practice of inserting a piece (a “finger”) of ginger into the anus, vagina, or urethra. The finger of ginger is cut from a larger piece of ginger root, skinned, and shaped into something resembling a butt plug, with a tapered end for insertion and a wide base to ensure easy retrieval.
“It was only a few moments after I yelled ‘Surprise! Figging!’ that I realized I probably should have discussed it with him first.” … [read more]
I’ve taken some strange comfort in the continued reassurance that I’m not really sadistic, not like other people are sadistic. Sure, maybe I enjoy it on some level, but I don’t need it, and it doesn’t really effect me. But it seems my body betrays me, and I have no way to intellectualize myself out of this. Last night, I toyed with him for hours. It wasn’t anything all that major, certainly nothing angry or violent or all that exciting, just small, and nagging, and constant. Clamps here, pins there, biting, twisting, pushing. I enjoy playing with him and watching … [read more]
“If we were in different positions, if you were able, would you collar me?” I avoided your question, left it hanging in the air like a noose, swinging free between us, just as likely to cut off your breath as mine. I responded with what we’ve said so many times, just as likely to be your words as mine. “We aren’t in a position… and it’s not like that… so… it doesn’t matter.” I couldn’t look you in the eye. Not twenty-four hours later, I bought the leather and the steel. I’ve been working on it since. You don’t know … [read more]