Here’s our imaginary book cover! But if we get enough funding it’ll be real!
Here’s our imaginary book cover! But if we get enough funding it’ll be real!
Our Immaculate Origins
We may have both ended up in the same place, but we found bdsm in very different ways. For him it was a long slow process, fumbling in the dark for the light switch. For her it was 6 months of asking her boyfriend to do the things she wanted, then giving up and cheating on him with someone who would. If you’re tempted to invoke the old saw about girls developing faster than boys, don’t. He got there plenty fast once the internet was there to help him. She had it from the start.
Spanking, Shaving, and Bondage For Beginners: K’s Start
I was thinking about the first time I gave someone a spanking. It was with my second serious girlfriend (meaning, one I lived with). We had always fucked, a LOT, but without much talking about it, or anything kinky. Early on she learned when I had to wake up to get to work in the morning, and would wake me up with her hand on my cock to get her morning sex. But she was shy when it came to talking about it, and so was I, back then. So for a long time our sex life was frequent, vigorous, and fun, but relatively vanilla.
One day, maybe six months in, instead of the usual foreplay (touching, licking, kissing) I pulled her over my lap and spanked her…and it turned me on like nothing else ever had. She had jean shorts on, and red panties, and I left the panties on but jerked the shorts down around her knees. I didn’t spank her hard, but I was definitely holding her down. And from then on that sorta thing became a regular part of our sex. We didn’t call it BDSM or anything, or identify that way, we were total innocents. Honestly, at that point I hadn’t ever even really had access to internet porn, only what one could get with dial up, so I had no idea, it was all on instinct, and vague things gleaned from Anais Nin and Nancy Friday and letters to Penthouse. And for a long time it was just light spanking and holding her hands over her head.
But one day we got really stoned and a little tipsy, but mostly stoned, and at some point I pounced on her, pinned her to the bed, and stripped her naked. First I rolled her over on her belly, found that she was already wet, and positioned my cock right at the entrance to her pussy. She was almost always wet. There was a girl who let me know very very early on that girls really do often need a LOT more sex than boys. But I had her lying there, clearly turned on, pinned underneath me, and I used the stubble on my checks to tickle her neck, and as she squirmed and wriggled it pushed my cock into her, and she bounced around helplessly as I ticked her. She was really ticklish, and I kept on going for a long, long time. I don’t even have words for how much I enjoyed her squirming.
Today I spank, whip, hit, and bite for the same effect, but nothing has ever been as fun as that first moment tickling her. Then I blindfolded her and I tied her to the headboard with a necktie. I have a great picture of another girl, many years later, blindfolded with the very same tie. After 69’ing her for a few minutes (or years, stoned means time passes oddly for me) I got off her, and started fucking her with an empty beer bottle, and seeing that going in and out of her turned me on so much, but she kept her pubic hair natural, which made it harder to see what was happening. So I jumped up, got my electric and blade razors from the bathroom, and then very carefully shaved her pubic hair. She had such a beautiful pink little snatch once she was shaved, and I came so hard shortly after that. It made me so happy that I knew right then I would always need some form of bondage and domination in my sex life.
A few months later I said something about the pink color of some random object, and she responded, “you and pink” reminding me of how much fun it was to shave her…years later she was telling me about the movie she had just seen, Secretary, and then said, “but you’re not allowed to see it, you already have too many ideas!”
And that was it. From then on I knew I needed something…
Adventures in Internet Whoredom: Ari’s start
I don’t want to give details of that first night. I only like to kiss and tell when the sex is tragic, hilarious or both. It’s easier to be funny that way. Long time readers know we met when I answered his craigslist ad, so I’ll tell you about the days before I answered the ad and the moments before I got in his car.
I had been unhappy with my boyfriend at the time for a while, and was glad to be able to finally get some breathing room during Spring Break. Whenever I go back home, I spend my days with friends and my nights with porn, movies and Craigslist. I never actually contact anyone though, just sift through the various ads and laugh. One night I decided to look through the ads near my school, rather than my hometown ones. At first it was just the usual, laughing and judging. The horny and unfucked just have no grammar and spelling skills to speak of. But I started to realize that some of the ads interested me. And toward the end of break, I saw the ad that I was going to respond to. It took me awhile to get up the guts to do it. Not because I was afraid of being killed (though it would be a suitably spectacular way to go), but my fear of rejection. But after a couple of bong hits I decided to just do it and then promptly forgot about it…going about my usual business of feigning happiness with the boyfriend and school until I got a response back.
I was pretty shocked. I couldn’t believe that it worked so fast, and I wondered why I hadn’t used Craigslist earlier. As the conversation continued my list of concerns were quickly written off. He seemed sane. He seemed like he wasn’t a misogynistic fuck. He wasn’t hideous. I cyber stalked him enough to see that he just was a regular person. It wasn’t until I talked to my sister and showed her the pictures of the guy that I started to have doubts. “He’s not smiling in any of the pictures,” she said. “He’s going to kill you Ari, and I’m going to laugh at your funeral.”
The fact that she was criticizing me for meeting someone off craigslist rather than for cheating on the boyfriend (although admittedly she didn’t like him at this point) scared me. I started to have visions of being killed in horrible, but unimaginative ways. But I decided to jump straight into meeting the guy, instead of meeting him for coffee, which pretty much means that I was more worried about the possibility of an awkward, silence-riddled coffee meet than I was over being killed and cut up into little pieces so he could fuck my sawn off head or vagina…
Anyways fast forward to the actual night…with my sister’s rather emphatic protests in mind, I almost backed out. But then he showed me this tumblr, and I decided that I could not let this opportunity pass me by. So I wrote a note apologizing to my loved ones for being a stupid slut, took one last bong hit (because if I was going to die I was at least going to die high and happy) and went out the door.
I have been in several situations which felt icky to me and I always just quickly exited them. Getting into the car I was nervous (I was trying not to appear nervous, but my high school drama skills failed me!) but I didn’t sense any immediate danger. I trust my intuition for the most part…and I was ready to jump out the car if he pulled out a handkerchief (too many movies) and tried to smother my face with it, but I honestly felt like I didn’t have too. And since I’m here writing this up right now, I obviously didn’t. This is pretty cool, because I really want to visit France before I die.
TO BE CONTINUED
wo years ago we both had problems, some more serious than others. Ari was dealing with two problems. First, she was a young black college student, at a pretty white university, and being surrounded by obnoxious, loudmouthed, clueless racists was getting her down. Second, she was slowly coming to realize that she had a pretty serious interest in BDSM-sex. He only really had one problem, which is that he’d just gotten out of a long term relationship and missed regular, kinky, sex. Also companionship. But mostly that sex thing. And as a graduate student, he really didn’t like hearing, “hey you’re my TA” whenever he was out at a bar. Plus it’s awkward to ask people their feelings about ball gags during that always tricky “getting to know you” flirting. So he attempted to deal with his problem by putting up an online ad looking for kinky sex.
She’s still searching for a solution to her first problem, but she dealt with the second one by answering an online ad for kinky sex and meeting a much older white male graduate student who already owned a ball gag. While this certainly helped her explore her sexuality, it actually made her first problem worse, as it added another clueless white person to her life. Now, two years later, they’re going to write an ebook about their intense, tumultuous, non-exclusive and energetic relationship.
Is a non-exclusive relationship with an older man really a healthy way for Ari to date in college? What does it mean to be a black woman who aggressively combats racial stereotypes in public, but gets off on being whipped? What does it mean to be part of the bdsm “comunity? How has the internet changed dating, relationships, and explorations of sexuality? The images of bdsm sex that exist on line are overwhelmingly white, and most of the exceptions involve race play, which makes Ari’s skin crawl. Is there a way to create something new here?
Is sleeping with much younger woman just a way for K to avoid actually growing up? Is non-monogamy a healthy way to avoid jealousy and have kinky thrills, or just a really desperate way to deal with commitment phobia? The recent explosion of interest in BDSM has led to much hand-wringing about women’s sexuality, and what it means that 50 years after The Feminine Mystiquesome women want to be tied up and spanked, but what about the men? People take it for granted that men are “naturally” violent, so the men doing the tying and spanking don’t seem unusual, but just ask any woman who likes it rough: lots of guys won’t go there. So why DOES K like this kind of sex? Why would anyone?
All these questions will be addressed in a multi-media ebook that’s inspired by the Diaries of Anais Nin but also a little bit “Denis Reynolds: An Erotic Life,” written by people who love The Misadventures of an Awkward Black Girl as much as they do Henry and June. We’ve read Catherine Mackinnon & Andrea Dworkin, and but at the end of the day our hearts are with Annie Sprinkle.
Soon after we started seeing each other we also started documenting this relationship on a couple of blogs, meaning we have a huge stock of pictures, videos, and writing about our crazy, tumultuous trainwreck of a relationship to draw upon. When we first started talking, half-jokingly, about this project we wanted the book cover to be a gif, so it would alternately display his title, then hers. He would call his half of the narrative “Suck My Cock, Bitch.” She would call hers “I Don’t Kill Him, Even When I Want To.”