AnacroCon 2013 (and 1913, 1813...)

-- I found a puppy!

-- Yea!

-- Can I pet it?

-- Yes.

-- Can I feed it?

-- Yes.

-- Can I take it home w/ me?

-- No… but you can fuck it if it will let you.

-- Cool.  … Wait, what?

(A note to anyone reading this blog for the first time: No literal, biological canines were involved anywhere in this conversation.)

That exchange of dialogue was almost as odd as hearing Shdwkitten say, “Oh, I still have tequila in my skirt.”  (No, that’s not a type-o; “in” not “on.”)

We had a fantastic time at AnacroCon Saturday.  AnacroCon is Atlanta’s sci-fi steampunk/alternate-history convention.  I had kind of wanted to go to this con since I first heard of it a couple of years ago… but it was never high on the priority list.  However, this year a con-friend of ours gave us a prefect excuse by having his (steampunk themed) wedding at the con Saturday afternoon and inviting us.  I did a Sherlock Holmes look (but w/ my Ravenclaw scarf on), and the beautiful Shdwkitten looked fantastic in steampunk garb w/ a tricked-out parasol by Maggie.

So, how fun was it?  Let’s see, the wolfhound had a glass of wine at lunch then a vodka & soda followed by two vodka & OJ’s that afternoon, then a HUGE beer at dinner, and three vodka & sodas that evening… so, yeah, I had a very good time.  :D

Ma’am and I were very happy to be joined by Sir and for most of the day Tebow as well.  I love our bimonthly Dominion parties, but it’s always great to be able to spend time at something other than a dungeon party… NOT that this vanilla event kept me from getting bit and chewed on.  Ma’am almost ripped my throat out Friday night, and then Saturday Loki left 3 or 4 heavy bight-marks on my right shoulder.  That’s still ouchy today.

So back to the drinking thing…  Sir wore his fantastic steampunk Saint Bernard costume which includes not only his collar-barrel of whisky but a bandoleer stocked w/ liquor.  (Hence all the vodka I was putting away.)    (I'll post some pictures if I can get a copy from Ma'am.)  We discovered that whoever was holding the bandoleer was the most popular person in the room at that moment.  Once, Sir had given it to Tebow to hold on to, and some fellow con-goers spotted it, causing the girls to try and bribe him w/ boobies for booze.

-- We have boobs!

-- Sorry, ladies, I don’t play on that team.

This caused the guys in their group to offer themselves up:

-- We have penises, too!

(Got to love con geeks!  One woman tried to trade Tebow her husband for booze.)

However, the beagle already had a date lined-up for that evening, so he took off after dinner.  Ma’am, Sir, and I hung-out some more at the con.  Somehow we failed to make it to the Men w/o Pants Party.  I know, that’s really out of character.  I also failed to hear any of the bands I wanted to hear...  But we had a bandoleer full of liquor, so we were good.

Finally it was time to call it a night and drive Sir home.  Ma’am said we could ride in the back seat and make-out… which means I can now cross “oral sex in the back seat of a moving car” from my bucket list.  Honestly I didn’t think we were doing anything too kama-sutra, but Ma’am said that it looked in the rearview mirror like I was in some pretty wild positions.  Well… my doctor has advised me to take up yoga, so I was just getting some practice.  ;-)

In summation:

AnacroCon = good.  (The vender’s room ROCKED! Amazing stuff.)

Sending time w/ Ma’am and Sir together = always good.

Bandoleer of liquor = very good.

Puppy sex in the backseat of a car = Woof!

They call it Puppy Love

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50 Shades of BDSM Stereotypes

My last post looked at the lighter side of BDSM stereotypes as mocked in the delightful musical Spank… but in addition to exploding stereotypes w/ laughter, it’s also worth discrediting the w/ science.  I’ve recently found a couple of articles I thought worth sharing about BDSM in regards to mental health.  Both do a good job of using facts and science to dispel the popular stereotypes.  I think these two articles would be especially helpful for anyone trying to talk to vanilla (or kink-curious) friends/family.  I remember many years ago when I came out as kinky to my friends, one of my vanilla friends (who had known me for like ten years at that point) basically said something along the lines of: “I don’t get that whole ‘I hate myself and want to be punished’ stuff.”  All I could say at the time was, “I don’t hate myself… and it’s not punishment as much as play.”  I wish I had these articles at that time to say, “Here, read this.”

50 Shades Of Grey (Matter): How Science Is Defying BDSM Stereotypes

by Kayt Sukel

 

  “Whether we are reading about Mr. Grey, appreciating a young Mickey Rourke in 9 ½ Weeks or being horrified by the latest potential perp on Law & Order: SVU, we have, as a culture, hooked into the worst kind of BDSM stereotypes. We are conditioned to see those who practice the lifestyle as imbalanced, damaged and potentially violent. We believe they are incapable of building or maintaining successful sexual or emotional relationships. …  In the book [50 Shades], Christian [Grey] is a solitary man -- and from accounts of his family very unhappy… However, data from the Australia sexual health study suggest that couples who indulge in BDSM and role-playing activities say they are happier than their non-BDSM counterparts. …  If you are an avid Law & Order: SVU watcher, you've heard Dr. George Huang explain away kink with the "his brain isn't wired correctly" argument. While it may make good television, his explanations are a gross misunderstanding the science.”

Read the rest at:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kayt-sukel/bdsm_b_1554310.html

A Loving Introduction to BDSM

The myth is that it’s abusive. Actually it’s about trust and communication.

Published on June 15, 2012 by Michael Castleman, M.A. in All About Sex

“The myth is that it’s abusive and weird—whips and chains! Actually it’s about trust. When trust trumps the possibility of harm, the result can feel incredibly intimate and erotic. …  Many people consider BDSM perverted, dehumanizing, or worse. But aficionados call it the most loving, nurturing, intimate form of human contact and play. People can have sex without conversation, negotiation, or any emotional connection. But in BDSM, the players always arrange things in advance with clear, intimate communication, which creates a special erotic bond.”

Read the rest at:

http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/all-about-sex/201206/loving-introduction-bdsm

BDSM, The Musical! (Fifty Shades of Parody)

So a couple of nights ago I had a bit of a random dream (which is actually quite normal for me).  In said dream, Shdwkitten and I were watching a new Muppet movie – a Muppet version of The Nightmare Before Christmas.  Kermit was playing Jack, Piggy was Sally, Dr. Bunsen Honeydew was the Dr. Strangelove guy…  The oddest bit of casting, however, was that the Grim Reaper (not a character that appears in the original) was played by Fozzy Bear.  Weird, I know!  I mean, you’d expect Gonzo, right?  But seeing Fozzy Bear as the embodiment of Death was very hysterically funny!

Also very hysterically funny was Spank, The Fifty Shades Parody.  Like my Muppet dream it’s also a mash-up (w/ spoofs on Batman, Twilight, Interview w/ the Vampire, Willy Wonka… and a lot of digs at “that thing we do.”).  Unlike the Muppet’s Nightmare Before Christmas, you can actually see Spank b/c neither I nor my dazed and confused subconscious made it up.  It’s a real play that my beautiful Owner took her hound to see for our Valentines’ Day Weekend.  :)

It’s a fantastic three-character comedy w/ bits of improv and audience interaction mixed in w/ some great musical numbers.  The entry-character is a 40-sonething, bored, sex-starved housewife writer wanna-be who sets out to write her sex-fantasy novel while her husband is away searching for the kids who have gotten lost at Disneyworld.  While she writes, two other actors act-out her fantasy… occasionally adding their own commentary as well.  Lacking in any form of creativity (much like my subconscious apparently) all she can do is import scenes and characters from other things she’s read… and when she gets stuck, she falls back on her own fan fiction and drops a borrowed sex scene in the middle of the “novel” (w/ predictably hilarious results).  The play had me from the very first line:  “I am such a good writer!”

My other favorite dialogue came during Tasha’s first encounter w/ Hugh.

Tasha: Are you gay?

Hugh:  In a way, no.

That right there killed me, but he went on…

Hugh:  I’m gay for power. I’m gay for money.  I’m gay for control.  I’m gay for Anderson Cooper, but who isn’t.

The greatest bit in the play would have to be the Willy Wonka parody.  Gene Wilder, of course; not Johnny Depp.  (Han shot first, and Gene Wilder is Willy Wonka!)  If I can ever find that song on the internet it MUST go into the CAPEX dungeon playlist.  Of course it will probably stop every scene w/ people laughing too hard to swing the flogger… but I’m always a fan of laughter in the dungeon.  I laughed so hard at this song that I damn near fell out of my chair.  After we left, cliché as it might sound, Kitten twice exclaimed, “My face hurts from laughing so much.”

Shdwkitten herself provided one of the funniest moments.  There are a couple of audience interaction moments when the actors come off the stage to improvise w/ us.  It bears mentioning here that, if you go see this play – and you should – you will find that the women in the audience outnumber the men 10 to 1.  No kidding.  Which is perfect b/c this is the “mommy porn” crowed.  Most of them are in their 40s or 50s (or as the play calls them, their “horny forties and flirty fifties”) and have snuck away to see Spank while their husbands are left to do something uninteresting… like hunt for their lost children at Disneyworld.  Now, I haven’t mentioned yet that we were sitting third-row center – perfect seats – w/ me proudly wearing my collar locked around my neck.  During one of these improves, Tasha comes to the audience seeking advice about fisting.  From our front-n-center location, my Owner shouts out, “Before you start, remind him to take off his watch!”  The actress just about lost it.  She hadn’t heard that one before.  After a moment of laughing, she comes back w/ “Wow, that’s really deep!”

It was even funnier for Ma’am and I b/c there’s this whole story behind her suggestion.  If you ever run-across one of the members of the old Charlotte interrogation play group, ask them to tell you the story about my cellmate’s lost watch.  You’ll either laugh your ass off… or be utterly horrified, I don’t know.

Incidentally, just in case you’re wondering what else I’ve been dreaming about, last night I had a dream that started w/ Lando Molari walking around on Babylon 5… and then he walked onto the set of The West Wing were Vir was playing handball w/ Toby (no, that’s not a euphemism).  I’ve long been convinced that Freudian/Jungian dream analysis doesn’t work – at least not w/ me – b/c my dreams just always seem to be nothing more than my mind running on random access.  (Unless… maybe “handball” was a euphemism!)  I have this whole theory about the subconscious and creativity and the arts… but I’m not going into that now b/c I’d rather write about Ikea.

After the play and before Ikea came pizza.  My Owner has NO direction sense.  So, I didn't realize that she wanted to got o Brixx Pizza, which is right around the corner from the theater.  So we walk to our car, get in, she programs the destination into the GPS, we drive around the block... and then return to our exact same parking space.  That was a classic Shdwkitten moment!  After pizza and cider, Kitten took her puppy to Ikea to do a little shopping… which works great for me as a romantic date-night thing b/c I love Ikea.  (Have I mentioned that I’m part Swedish?)  I have this theory that if you are really good, then after you die, you go to Ikea to live out eternity.  I think… maybe I’ll even write a play about it.  It’ll be inspired by Sartre w/ a dash of Becket, and involve three characters sitting in an Ikea showroom… waiting… waiting… waiting…

But anyway, here's the importnt part:

Happy Valentine's Day, Ma'am!  Ry Ruff Ruuuuuu!!!

My First Notion of Puppy Play

I believe my first notion that there was such a thing like “puppy play” or anything remotely resembling it actually came from reading Stephen King’s The Shining.  Probably more people have seen the Kubrik movie than read the book, and this subplot was only hinted at in the film when Wendy is running through the hotel and witnesses a ghostly homosexual encounter in one of the rooms.

 It’s just a remaining snippet of a subplot from Stephen King’s book, in which a party guest in a dog costume has a homosexual relationship with one of the hotel’s former owners, Harry Derwent.

Chad Helder summarized it thus:

“In the book, the man in the tuxedo is revealed to be Derwent, the corrupt playboy, jet-set owner of the hotel.  According to one of the ghost-guests, Derwent is bisexual, and he has a fling with Roger in Cuba. Now, Roger is desperate to continue the love affair while Derwent is finished with Roger. As a way to torment and humiliate his former lover, Derwent asks Roger to dress as a dog for the masquerade ball, and the entire evening Derwent forces him to perform degrading tricks while everyone laughs at him, including pouring a very phallic bottle of foaming champagne all over Roger's dog mask.” -- http://unspeakablehorror.com/journal/2006/10/28/the-shinings-dogman.html

In Roger’s next appearance in the book he traps Danny in a hall and (w/ explicit Big Bad Wolf references) threatens: 'I'm going to eat you up, little boy.  And I think I'll start with your plump little cock.'

In Roger’s final appearance in the book he’s giving Derwent a blowjob and makes a another fairytale reference (I’ll huff… and I’ll puff… and I’ll blow…)

It’s creepy, unsettling stuff.  I can’t recall when exactly I first read The Shining but I think I was in high school… or maybe even Jr. High…  Funny enough, though, I do remember one thing clearly: Being so turned-on by the dog-suit humiliation scene that, well, I did what teenage boys do when reading a book in bed at night gets them really turned-on.  The humiliation, dehumanization, and submission in the scene were quite hot to me even then.  The idea of being at a party and being on all fours, led on a leash, and treated like a dog… Yummy!

(You might be kinky if… you ever jerked-off to Stephen King’s Shining)

I can add that I was also quite into werewolves when I was a teenager and certainly found the notion of that primal release/transformation very sexy on some level.

I never thought much about (or knew anything about) puppy play for years after that (although I always remembered how hot that scene was).  I think my first real idea that there was this specific fetish “puppy play” came a year or so after I got involved in the BDSM scene.  This was pre-Fetlife (almost pre-internet!), so it took longer to discover these things.  As a comic book geek and budding pervert, I discovered (and fell in love w/) the work of Michael Manning… who I got to meet at Fantasm in 2003 or 04.  But before that I discovered his comics – which are super-super-HOT!  And one of the hottest things he drew were these amazing images of (often androgynous) rubber/PVC pups.

I can't find any of his puppy drawings online to share, but here's a nice kitty he drew:

And, well, I just really like this:

 Those puppy drawings by Manning and The Shinning planted the idea of pup play/fetish in my mind… and in 2005 I first got to try it out.  Now, it’s kind of funny, b/c right from the beginning my actual experience of pup play was very different from what you might expect from those fantasies.  For one, humiliation (which played such a big part in the King novel and often depicted in Manning's comics) was never any part of my puppy headspace.  There’s no humiliation for me in being forced to act like a dog.  Rather it feels like a release of fun, wild energy… and the relaxation of being totally in the Now.  The humiliation still isn’t at all a part of my pup play… although I do certainly get into the submission aspect (especially when my Alpha Pup is blighting me; then I get all kinds of weak-in-the-knees subby-space).  For another thing, unlike the Manning drawing (which are super-super-HOT) gear/fetish-wear never played a big part in my puppy play… until pretty recently maybe.  Finally, contrary to both King and Manning, sex wasn’t really a part of my puppy headspace… again, until recently maybe.

Choosing Your Breed

One of the interesting and fun things about being a human-pup is choosing a breed for yourself.  The way my breed was chosen is kind of interesting.  About eight years ago I went to a Whippersnappers demo on “animal role-play.”  At the end of the formal presentation, the speaker asked if any volunteers wanted to come up and try it, and Whippersnapper-n-chief Andrew kindly volunteered me.  So the speaker asked the audience what kind of animal I was, and somebody (it may even have been Andrew, but I don’t recall) shouted back, “Irish wolfhound,” and immediately the whole room was like, “Yes, of course.”  (I’m rather tall, long-limbed, and have long, shaggy hair – it was a little more shaggy then, it’s now growing thinner… but I’m still young enough to attend Wippersnappers… for a couple of more years.)

Being a wolfhound soon became an integral part of my pup-identity.  Since then, I’ve learned that not all pups have a breed, and I’ve read of some (online) who say the breed they picture in their head varies w/ their mood. 

That said, all the pups I know personally have a breed which not only enhances their own headspace but also helps others interact w/ them.  By establishing a breed for yourself and making it part of your moniker, so to speak, you help cue others in on how to interact w/ you.  You can use identifying signs (I wear a wolfhound pin on my leather jacket and have a Celtic hound tattoo), gear (Sir Loki is a Saint Bernard, and he has a brandy cask that hangs from his collar), or clothing (our Dalmatian has a white T-shirt w/ black spots).  It’s also very natural around our pack to address one-another by breed: “Wolfhound, fetch!”  “What the hell is the beagle doing?” 

As far as choosing a breed, the way mine was chosen was very spontaneous, but then quite perfect.  If I were now sitting down to deliberately choose a breed for myself, I would think about on psychology and play-style.  Different breeds exhibit different personalities.  Decide if you’re a working dog, sporting dog, hound, herding dog, terrier, or toy dog.  There’s a list of breed categories at:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Kennel_Club#Recognized_breeds 

Each breed-type carries its own play-style.  Retrievers fetch; shepherds are always circling; scent hounds get into everything and are prone to wandering off; rotties like to wrestle... and sight hounds (like me) like to chase-down and pounce things (toys… other puppies… motorcycles… large cats... other puppies)

I’d also add: It’s a common practice for Owners to name their pups, but when it comes to selecting a breed, I think I would dialogue more about that and find something that feels right to puppy and Handler alike.  It has to match what you, as the pup, picture in your mind when you pup-out.  Or you could just ask a random crowed of people and see what someone shouts back.  It worked for me.