T. Strange's Blog, page 24
April 27, 2014
A-Z Challenge: X is for Xenophilia (Sort Of)
I wanted to do a unique, interesting X word and avoid the obvious X-ray, xylophone, etc.
Ideally what you would be reading now is a story about a man encountering some sort of alien species and the joy they have finding out that yes, it is in fact anatomically possible.
Sadly, not only has this month been insane for me, I am also leaving on a trip tomorrow (or four days ago, depending on whether you're me or not) and that story will have to lurk in the back of my mind until I have the time to bring it to life.
So, apologies. If you would like to see this story happen, feel free to poke me. Poking moves it up my list of priorities.
I hope you've all had an excellent four days in the future!
Ideally what you would be reading now is a story about a man encountering some sort of alien species and the joy they have finding out that yes, it is in fact anatomically possible.
Sadly, not only has this month been insane for me, I am also leaving on a trip tomorrow (or four days ago, depending on whether you're me or not) and that story will have to lurk in the back of my mind until I have the time to bring it to life.
So, apologies. If you would like to see this story happen, feel free to poke me. Poking moves it up my list of priorities.
I hope you've all had an excellent four days in the future!
April 26, 2014
A-Z Challenge: W is for What Do Bottoms Get Out Of It?
Facebook does, occasionally, help productivity.
I was really, really struggling to come up with a W, mostly because I leave tomorrow morning (or, when you read this, a few days ago) and I was running out of time.
All I could think was 'walrus' and that was just silly. I tried to find a gif from the American Dad episode where Stan and Steve act like walruses, and then I got distracted by a site with American Dad gifs. I found one of my favourites, but there weren't any apostrophes and it bothered me. I Googled the quote to see if I could find a different gif (No :( ) but a bunch of sites about whether it was okay to be gay and Christian came up, so I had to check that out (according to the top one, yes). And there was another site about how gay the movie Frozen is. I haven't seen the movie, but I thought, hey, if it's like ultra-pissing-people-off gay, I'll check it out (No :( ) Aaaaaand then I took a break on Facebook and the rest is this post.
Someone had mentioned some of their vanilla friends wondering what, exactly, a bottom (slave/sub/etc) got out of a BDSM arrangement, and it's not the first time I've heard that question asked.
This, of course, is entirely my opinion and may not be true. But...I feel that the 'what do subs get out of it' attitude stems from the belief that all bottoms are women and all Tops (Doms/Mistresses/etc) are men. So what people are really asking is still the Victorian question, "Why would women want sex?" Sex and BDSM are for the Top/man to enjoy, and for the bottom/woman to lie there and take.
And hooooooooo boy are they wrong!
For one thing, you'd think the sheer bottom to Top ratio (in most places I've seen, bottoms seem to greatly outnumber the Tops) would clue them in that, gee, maybe it's an equal, adult relationship where each party has needs and expectations to be met...but they probably don't know enough about BDSM to know the demographics. Which is fine. I try not to talk about things I know nothing about, but I still do from time to time.
I think, really, the main reason this question bothers me is that I find the attitude of absolute, one-sided enjoyment very...creepy. A relationship where one person is always taking and the other is always giving isn't healthy. I'm sure that sort of arrangement could work for some people, if one half of the couple (or however many) is into BDSM and the other isn't but wants to accommodate their partner's needs...but thinking that all BDSM is completely Top-oriented and inflicted on bottoms...Yeeegh.
Personally, there are times when, after a scene, I've asked my wife if it was good for her, and I can't believe how well our play fulfilled both of our needs. I am not a passive whipping post. I am not a ripe pair of buttocks awaiting the next teeth-gritting spanking. I ask for play. I encourage play. I instigate play.
Have you guys come across this attitude? How have you responded? (Luckily I've never had to respond in person...or that person would probably be sporting a few extra orifices.)
I was really, really struggling to come up with a W, mostly because I leave tomorrow morning (or, when you read this, a few days ago) and I was running out of time.
All I could think was 'walrus' and that was just silly. I tried to find a gif from the American Dad episode where Stan and Steve act like walruses, and then I got distracted by a site with American Dad gifs. I found one of my favourites, but there weren't any apostrophes and it bothered me. I Googled the quote to see if I could find a different gif (No :( ) but a bunch of sites about whether it was okay to be gay and Christian came up, so I had to check that out (according to the top one, yes). And there was another site about how gay the movie Frozen is. I haven't seen the movie, but I thought, hey, if it's like ultra-pissing-people-off gay, I'll check it out (No :( ) Aaaaaand then I took a break on Facebook and the rest is this post.
Someone had mentioned some of their vanilla friends wondering what, exactly, a bottom (slave/sub/etc) got out of a BDSM arrangement, and it's not the first time I've heard that question asked.
This, of course, is entirely my opinion and may not be true. But...I feel that the 'what do subs get out of it' attitude stems from the belief that all bottoms are women and all Tops (Doms/Mistresses/etc) are men. So what people are really asking is still the Victorian question, "Why would women want sex?" Sex and BDSM are for the Top/man to enjoy, and for the bottom/woman to lie there and take.
And hooooooooo boy are they wrong!
For one thing, you'd think the sheer bottom to Top ratio (in most places I've seen, bottoms seem to greatly outnumber the Tops) would clue them in that, gee, maybe it's an equal, adult relationship where each party has needs and expectations to be met...but they probably don't know enough about BDSM to know the demographics. Which is fine. I try not to talk about things I know nothing about, but I still do from time to time.
I think, really, the main reason this question bothers me is that I find the attitude of absolute, one-sided enjoyment very...creepy. A relationship where one person is always taking and the other is always giving isn't healthy. I'm sure that sort of arrangement could work for some people, if one half of the couple (or however many) is into BDSM and the other isn't but wants to accommodate their partner's needs...but thinking that all BDSM is completely Top-oriented and inflicted on bottoms...Yeeegh.
Personally, there are times when, after a scene, I've asked my wife if it was good for her, and I can't believe how well our play fulfilled both of our needs. I am not a passive whipping post. I am not a ripe pair of buttocks awaiting the next teeth-gritting spanking. I ask for play. I encourage play. I instigate play.
Have you guys come across this attitude? How have you responded? (Luckily I've never had to respond in person...or that person would probably be sporting a few extra orifices.)
April 25, 2014
A-Z Challenge: V is for Veil
(I'm totally cheating--this is an edited version of a post from an old blog...but this month has been crazy and I'm leaving for a trip tomorrow.)
Veils.
On men.
Sexy. (And, for the purpose of this post, I am only talking about veils on men. This blog is not about religion or politics).
I read somewhere that there is no single facial feature that allows for universal
facial recognition. People have to be able to see the whole face in order to recognize someone. I think that's why some people react so strongly to veils of any kind, because so much of human relations are through the face. When they're upset by a veil, they're really thinking, "Ahhhhh!!!! I can't see his faaaaaace!!!"
Look at this guy! I can't see his whole face! He could have warts. He could have scars. He could be the most beautiful man on earth and I'll never know!
Veils add mystery to interaction, and most people don't like mystery unless they're specifically looking for it.For me, that mystery is part of a veil's charm. Reading someone's emotions becomes limited to the eyes. Eyes are very expressive, but most Westerners are used to getting non-verbal cues from other parts of the face as well.
Veils keep a part of you hidden from the world. I don't just mean actual, physical veils, of course. They can hide a good thing, something you want to keep to yourself or those you're intimate with (or bad hair day. I'm just saying...), or it could be something you don't want anyone to see because you're ashamed of it, or it's a secret, or having it out for everyone to see would leave you too raw and vulnerable to function.
This blog doesn't have nearly enough naked men yet, so here!
I love this picture. The veil doesn't hide anything, it only draws the viewer's attention and makes the whole thing more sensual. You can't see the model's face, so he is effectively veiled.
I'm sure part of the romance of veils is, for me, the purely sensual side of them. Yes, there's the mystery, but there's also the feeling of soft, gauzy material on your skin, on one of the most sensitive parts of your body (the face). You can kiss through a veil, a la Victor Hugo, and it's a totally different experience. Even the familiar becomes new, exotic, erotic. I like walking around town with a scarf over my face and just my eyes showing during the winter. I'm invisible, or rather unidentifiable. I can be anyone and no one. People can only see my clothes and the colour of my eyes and skin.
April 24, 2014
A-Z Challenge: U is for Underage Sex Toys
Okay, it sounds creepy based on my title, but I saw the opportunity to fill a letter and to perform one of my favourite rants:
Sex toys need to be available to people under 18.
How many (embarrassing, painful, costly, potentially fatal) trips to the emergency room could be avoided if people just had access to good quality, affordable insertables? I don't just mean for underage people, of course. Based on posts I've seen circulating about the contents of people's rectums, I think there's still a stigma attached to sex toys. Being able to order them online has, I'm sure, prevented a lot of mishaps...but again, while you can lie and click the "Yes I'm Over 18" button, chances are you won't have a credit card. You could steal your parents', but then there's the awkwardness of explaining what that discreet purchase actually was.
Without going into too much detail: yes, I personally could have really used a proper insertable before I was old enough to go into an adult store. I was comfortable enough to visit one as soon as I turned 18, but I knew bupkiss about what to get and it was years before I learned enough to select the right toy (silicone, silicone, silicone. I have very sensitive skin. To the point that I have to use baby shampoo. If anyone knows a Burt's Bee's quality shampoo for adult's sensitive scalps, I'd love to hear about it!)--and afford it.
TL;DR:
- sex toys need to be available to everyone and anyone, discreetly and affordably
- education about sex toys should be available to everyone and anyone. The 'condom on the banana' routine does not count
- no one wants to end up in an emergency room with a lightbulb up their ass (unless that's what you're into. Which is cool)
Sex toys need to be available to people under 18.
How many (embarrassing, painful, costly, potentially fatal) trips to the emergency room could be avoided if people just had access to good quality, affordable insertables? I don't just mean for underage people, of course. Based on posts I've seen circulating about the contents of people's rectums, I think there's still a stigma attached to sex toys. Being able to order them online has, I'm sure, prevented a lot of mishaps...but again, while you can lie and click the "Yes I'm Over 18" button, chances are you won't have a credit card. You could steal your parents', but then there's the awkwardness of explaining what that discreet purchase actually was.
Without going into too much detail: yes, I personally could have really used a proper insertable before I was old enough to go into an adult store. I was comfortable enough to visit one as soon as I turned 18, but I knew bupkiss about what to get and it was years before I learned enough to select the right toy (silicone, silicone, silicone. I have very sensitive skin. To the point that I have to use baby shampoo. If anyone knows a Burt's Bee's quality shampoo for adult's sensitive scalps, I'd love to hear about it!)--and afford it.
TL;DR:
- sex toys need to be available to everyone and anyone, discreetly and affordably
- education about sex toys should be available to everyone and anyone. The 'condom on the banana' routine does not count
- no one wants to end up in an emergency room with a lightbulb up their ass (unless that's what you're into. Which is cool)
April 23, 2014
A-Z Challenge: T is for Too Good
Josh didn't really want to go out for his birthday, but his friend Tony insisted. He can't believe it when a hot guy hits on him and wants to go home with him! Roy is well-hung and worried about hurting Josh, but Josh insists he can take it. They have a great time together, but Josh has a nagging suspicion that Roy might not be telling him everything.
Genres: M/M, Contemporary
(Part of Torquere Press' Take It Like A Man anthology)
Read an Excerpt
Buy Link
April 22, 2014
A-Z Challenge: S is for Squid
Squid are very important to me.
Not in the usual, I-like-to-eat-them way, because I don't.
When I was five or so, a friend loaned me their cassette tape of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and unwittingly triggered an obsession, about 20,000 Leagues in general and squid in particular. I happily marched off to the library to learn more about my favourite cephalopod (though octopi also rock).
Only, there were no books about squid. It was a crushing blow. This was pre-internet, after all. I asked my mom what to do, and she told me I should write my own book. I was like, with what information??? The whole point of getting a book about squid is to learn about them because I've got nothing. Everything I know is from this child's version of 20,000 Leagues. Do you want me to make stuff up?!
I learned young that, if it doesn't exist, you'll just have to fucking write it yourself. (I don't remember if I ever wrote the book).
One of my favourite places in the world (that I've seen so far) is the Royal Tyrell Museum in Drumheller, Alberta. They had (and hopefully still have) a pink rubber squid in a tank of water, with a little hose attached to it. You squeeze a bulb and the hose pushes air into the squid and it rockets around the tank, demonstrating how squid move. It's amazing. It was amazing when I first saw it at five, and it's still amazing. (For those of you just tuning in: this post was written by several two-year-olds in a trench coat).
Not in the usual, I-like-to-eat-them way, because I don't.
When I was five or so, a friend loaned me their cassette tape of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and unwittingly triggered an obsession, about 20,000 Leagues in general and squid in particular. I happily marched off to the library to learn more about my favourite cephalopod (though octopi also rock).
Only, there were no books about squid. It was a crushing blow. This was pre-internet, after all. I asked my mom what to do, and she told me I should write my own book. I was like, with what information??? The whole point of getting a book about squid is to learn about them because I've got nothing. Everything I know is from this child's version of 20,000 Leagues. Do you want me to make stuff up?!
I learned young that, if it doesn't exist, you'll just have to fucking write it yourself. (I don't remember if I ever wrote the book).
One of my favourite places in the world (that I've seen so far) is the Royal Tyrell Museum in Drumheller, Alberta. They had (and hopefully still have) a pink rubber squid in a tank of water, with a little hose attached to it. You squeeze a bulb and the hose pushes air into the squid and it rockets around the tank, demonstrating how squid move. It's amazing. It was amazing when I first saw it at five, and it's still amazing. (For those of you just tuning in: this post was written by several two-year-olds in a trench coat).
April 21, 2014
BDSMonday - Different Types of Masochism
It's pretty unusual for my wife to be in the mood for bottoming, but it happens from time to time. While sadism or topping in general aren't really my things, I like to make sure that all of her needs are met, so I oblige.
The last time she wanted some impact play was about a month ago, and I was struck by how different our approaches are to BDSM-type pain.
For me, the pain is the goal (*heh* I accidentally typed gaol...) It's enough, in and of itself, for me. I get off on it, whether or not any traditionally sexual activity is happening at the same time.
For my wife, however, the pain is a means, a way to release emotion and energy and to get into an altered state of mind.
It's like the difference between drinking because you like the taste of alcohol, and drinking because you had a shitty day and want to take the edge off it. (Not that I'm advocating irresponsible drinking or play, but there are definitely times that a drink or a spanking can turn your whole outlook on life around!)
I fall into the first category (in my analogy and not--I do like the taste of alcohol). Alcohol's effects are a pleasant bonus, but not usually why I drink (or play).
When my wife is bottoming, it's the equivalent to knocking back a shot of whisky and pulling a face afterward--get it over with so you can get intoxicated.
Which type of masochist (or drinker!) are you? Which other kinds of masochism have you encountered?
---
If you would like to write a guest post for BDSMonday, please message me or email me: tq.strange (at) gmail.com
The last time she wanted some impact play was about a month ago, and I was struck by how different our approaches are to BDSM-type pain.
For me, the pain is the goal (*heh* I accidentally typed gaol...) It's enough, in and of itself, for me. I get off on it, whether or not any traditionally sexual activity is happening at the same time.
For my wife, however, the pain is a means, a way to release emotion and energy and to get into an altered state of mind.
It's like the difference between drinking because you like the taste of alcohol, and drinking because you had a shitty day and want to take the edge off it. (Not that I'm advocating irresponsible drinking or play, but there are definitely times that a drink or a spanking can turn your whole outlook on life around!)
I fall into the first category (in my analogy and not--I do like the taste of alcohol). Alcohol's effects are a pleasant bonus, but not usually why I drink (or play).
When my wife is bottoming, it's the equivalent to knocking back a shot of whisky and pulling a face afterward--get it over with so you can get intoxicated.
Which type of masochist (or drinker!) are you? Which other kinds of masochism have you encountered?
---
If you would like to write a guest post for BDSMonday, please message me or email me: tq.strange (at) gmail.com
April 20, 2014
A-Z Challenge: R is for Running Away
I only ever ran away from home once.
I had mono and I wasn't really sleeping (apparently there are two types of mono, one where you do nothing but sleep, and one where you're exhausted but you can't sleep. I had the second type) and I was pretty out of it. I don't remember what my mom said, but I just walked out the door and kept going. I was headed for my stepmom and stepsister's house, about a 5.5 km walk. I was practically delirious and very weak. I kept seeing flashing lights on the side of a hill and it was terrifying.
I made it as far as a funeral home before I couldn't keep going. Even though it was evening, the funeral home was open. There was a family doing a consultation of some sort in another room. I'm pretty sure I was crying and I know I didn't make a lot of sense--the man I spoke to thought I was running away from my First Kiss sister--but he let me use the phone. I called my mom's girlfriend, who was driving around looking for me (because that always works...) and went home. And I don't remember what happened after that.
The whole night was really, really surreal. I've felt a certain affection for that funeral home ever since.
What about you guys? Did you ever run away from home?
I had mono and I wasn't really sleeping (apparently there are two types of mono, one where you do nothing but sleep, and one where you're exhausted but you can't sleep. I had the second type) and I was pretty out of it. I don't remember what my mom said, but I just walked out the door and kept going. I was headed for my stepmom and stepsister's house, about a 5.5 km walk. I was practically delirious and very weak. I kept seeing flashing lights on the side of a hill and it was terrifying.
I made it as far as a funeral home before I couldn't keep going. Even though it was evening, the funeral home was open. There was a family doing a consultation of some sort in another room. I'm pretty sure I was crying and I know I didn't make a lot of sense--the man I spoke to thought I was running away from my First Kiss sister--but he let me use the phone. I called my mom's girlfriend, who was driving around looking for me (because that always works...) and went home. And I don't remember what happened after that.
The whole night was really, really surreal. I've felt a certain affection for that funeral home ever since.
What about you guys? Did you ever run away from home?
April 19, 2014
A-Z Challenge: Queen, The
If any of you have heard this one already, I'm sorry. Or...read, I guess.
When I was dating the girl I mentioned way back in L, the Queen came to our city. Naturally, we decided to skip class (which was actually really out of character for both of us, I'd like to point out) and go to see her.
We picked a few flowers from her garden (my girlfriend's, not the Queen's) and set off. Everyone stood in a line with their flowers or whatever. The Queen would take them and then hand them off to her carrying-flowers-guy (who was disappearing beneath them. Seriously. I have no idea how it was physically possible for him to hold so many bouquets).
As the Queen made her way toward us, my girlfriend apparently started having second thoughts. With every step the Queen took, my girlfriend put the flowers a little further behind her back. But the Queen had spotted them. She knew we had the damn flowers. By the time she got to us, the bouquet was completely behind my girlfriend's back.
So the entire procession came to a complete grinding halt in front of us, while I was frantically elbowing my drill sergeant girlfriend's side and hissing, "Give her the flowers!" out of the corner of my mouth.
Finally, she handed the bouquet over. The Queen said, "Thank you, my dear", and moved on.
It was, I think, a much more valuable experience than that afternoon's classes would have been.
When I was dating the girl I mentioned way back in L, the Queen came to our city. Naturally, we decided to skip class (which was actually really out of character for both of us, I'd like to point out) and go to see her.
We picked a few flowers from her garden (my girlfriend's, not the Queen's) and set off. Everyone stood in a line with their flowers or whatever. The Queen would take them and then hand them off to her carrying-flowers-guy (who was disappearing beneath them. Seriously. I have no idea how it was physically possible for him to hold so many bouquets).
As the Queen made her way toward us, my girlfriend apparently started having second thoughts. With every step the Queen took, my girlfriend put the flowers a little further behind her back. But the Queen had spotted them. She knew we had the damn flowers. By the time she got to us, the bouquet was completely behind my girlfriend's back.
So the entire procession came to a complete grinding halt in front of us, while I was frantically elbowing my drill sergeant girlfriend's side and hissing, "Give her the flowers!" out of the corner of my mouth.
Finally, she handed the bouquet over. The Queen said, "Thank you, my dear", and moved on.
It was, I think, a much more valuable experience than that afternoon's classes would have been.
April 18, 2014
A-Z Challenge: P is for Perfume
Despite being a little (okay, very) fucked up, Perfume is a really good movie. (I'm a little ashamed to admit that I haven't read the book, so I'll distract you by saying how cool I think it is that Dustin Hoffman has apparently just started taking quirky little roles because he wants to, like in Perfume or A Series of Unfortunate Events).
I can relate to Grenuille. While not nearly as good as his, my sense of smell is much better than most people's. (I'm also a supertaster, something I wish more people were aware of. Then I wouldn't have felt like such an asshole all the time as a kid when I didn't like something).
I can't stand perfume, the product. I have no idea why My lips shall not speak wickedness, nor my tongue utter deceit someone thought it was okay to put the perfume department on the main floor in the middle of the two department stores in the mall closest to me. I understand even less the person who decided to put an even smellier store right in the freaking food court. One of my wife's new coworkers at the bakery wears perfume, and it makes my throat get all tight and scratchy but I'm too fucking Canadian to tell her about it. So I do the proper Canadian thing and ask someone else to confront her for me.
One of my workplaces has big "Scent-Free Zone" signs all over the place--not that it makes any difference. There are still aerosol cans of Febreeze in the bathrooms. (I hide them whenever I see 'em.)
I can relate to Grenuille. While not nearly as good as his, my sense of smell is much better than most people's. (I'm also a supertaster, something I wish more people were aware of. Then I wouldn't have felt like such an asshole all the time as a kid when I didn't like something).
I can't stand perfume, the product. I have no idea why My lips shall not speak wickedness, nor my tongue utter deceit someone thought it was okay to put the perfume department on the main floor in the middle of the two department stores in the mall closest to me. I understand even less the person who decided to put an even smellier store right in the freaking food court. One of my wife's new coworkers at the bakery wears perfume, and it makes my throat get all tight and scratchy but I'm too fucking Canadian to tell her about it. So I do the proper Canadian thing and ask someone else to confront her for me.
One of my workplaces has big "Scent-Free Zone" signs all over the place--not that it makes any difference. There are still aerosol cans of Febreeze in the bathrooms. (I hide them whenever I see 'em.)
