Divorce Aftermath

When I started this site I was thinking less of sex and BDSM and far more about myself, recovering from divorcing the man who had become my best friend (long before we were married). I wrote an introduction to the site and left everything there as far as talking about divorce. But, I think, people need to talk about it more and share their own experiences as they pull themselves along in life.

As an update, I’m now older and wiser, all of 50 years of living. The divorce was over ten years ago, coming up to 15 years since I last spent time with my ex-husband in the same physical space and time. But, we talk online. Kind of ironic because we met as penpals, writing letters back and forth through the mail before the Internet evolved. I guess we are back to that, older and wiser and still connected in that way.

What is Sex, Actually?

When you hear sex education you likely assume it’s all about sex. However, there is more to sex education than sex alone. There are things like sexless marriages, virginity, menopause, fetishes and kinky stuff too.

Have you ever thought about what sex actually is?

Does sex have to be about penetration? What if you and a partner are into mutual masturbation, does that mean you have not had sex? If you say yes to that, does that mean lesbians have never had sex (unless you count being artificially penetrated – assuming they use such things)?

What about people who choose not to have sex, is there something wrong with them or is it just a choice? If there isn’t something wrong with that choice what does it say about people who have a lot of sex or think they are deprived if they haven’t had sex in a week? Are they oversexed?

I think sex is embarrassing. People don’t really want to talk about it, face to face. When you have sex you look pretty silly and sound worse. I’m amazed the human species has made it this far when I think about what sex actually is, especially in the past when consent wasn’t an issue.

So much about sex is all in your perspective. When you are intimate with someone you forget to be embarrassed. If you are someone who has sex frequently that seems normal to you. Someone else who has sex less often is normal too. It doesn’t mean they have less libido, less desire or are less attractive. They have a different perspective.

All this fuss about sex and then… menopause. What is the purpose of sex? I’ve thought about that. As a woman over 45, child-less and now waiting for menopause I sometimes feel angry about the whole sex thing. I think sex has let me down in every way that counts. I didn’t especially love sex when I was married, or before or since. I got married for the purpose of having companionship and children. I never found out if I were infertile, that didn’t become an issue because my husband changed his mind about children and being married. We’re divorced. Not because of sex.

Retro Internet: The 1500 Point Purity Test

Long ago, in the days of the Internet surfing highway, there was a purity test with over 1000 questions. I found a copy of it. Posted for your viewing (or take the test) pleasure.

THE UNISEX PURITY TEST

If you thought the millenial purity test was bad, well you ain’t see
nuttin’ yet!

This is the 1500 point Purity Test!

We felt that the 1000 point version lost a lot of the “fun” of the
earlier versions, so we re-wrote it, adding a few new sections, and
a shitload of questions. This test is guaranteed to be nosier that
your parents, more invasive than the census, and containing something
to offend everybody.

Also included is an answer form so that you can remember where in the
test you were, or show to a friend.

Continue reading Retro Internet: The 1500 Point Purity Test

Inspire Yourself

Originally posted to Sex Kitten (2003 – 2004)

We were given the topic “Inspirational Women” but all I could think of were the women in my life, those I admire and those I love. We all inspire someone, somewhere. Why don’t we give ourselves more credit?

Why do we get inspired by other women? Is it really due to their achievements or is there more to it? Do we see ourselves in their struggle and do we envy their success as we compare ourselves to them? I do, but then I think there is really no reason I can’t be making more successes in my own life, doing the things that matter to me. What holds some of us back? Why do we choose to go shopping, see something on TV or just never start all these great ideas and plans we have? Is it learned helplessness or do we just have so little faith in ourselves? Really, there isn’t any reason we can’t all be inspirational women. Maybe we already are, to someone.

Those inspirational women you read or think about mostly wouldn’t think of themselves that way. If you could go back in time as ask Amelia Earhart, Nellie McClung, Helen Keller, Boadicca, and Nellie Bly what made them inspirational I bet they would wonder too. Women tend to question our own achievements and see them as less than they really are. We compare ourselves to other women and see how much more we could be doing and then everything we have done seems smaller and less important. We cheat ourselves. Men don’t do that. They think every least thing they do is great and should be made note of. We call them cocky. Why aren’t we more like that? You don’t need a cock to believe in yourself and your abilities. Trust yourself, when no one is there for you, you are.

I admire women who are part of my everyday life yet I don’t think any of them would feel they belong on a list of inspirational women to be admired. I find my Grandmother and her sisters inspiring: Violet Scherle, Alice McRoberts, and the others, all deceased now. I find women I have contacted and worked with on the web inspiring: Deanna, Jade Walker, Bev Walton-Porter, Debbie Ohi for instance. Think of the early women doctors, the old midwives and herbalists who fought battles to do with family, career and a woman’s place in our world. I admire my Mother for being a Mom with four kids and a less than pleasant husband. As I grow older I understand her life and things she must have felt.

I admire women writers like: Shirley Jackson, LM Montgomery, Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Victoria Holt and Anne Stuart for their imagination and craft with words. I admire women pioneers like Susanna Moody and her sister Catherine Parr Traille. I admire women like Helen Keller and Kat at Sex Kitten who are fighting with health problems and winning. I admire my own sister, Sarah, for starting up her own business and keeping it going even though it’s very scary to have big debts, small children and an insecure income. I find Angela Comelli, a friend from high school inspiring cause she was beautiful (she literally turned heads as she walked down the street), very intelligent, witty and a lovely, kind person and she thought I was all those things too.

I think the women I find most inspiring are those who achieve their dreams while being single, working parents. Women who struggle to keep going after huge setbacks like a divorce, a death or whatever else comes along in life. I think we should all take some time to admire each other, for we have all faced trouble we thought we couldn’t survive and yet here we are, still working on keeping things together and creating our dreams too.

My First Divorce

Originally posted to Sex Kitten (2003 – 2004)

That was when she looked at websites about disposing of bodies. Not that he was quite a body, he was still breathing after all. But… she was only curious really.

His head was heavier than expected, kind of like a really big cabbage she’d once cooked for making cabbage rolls. She had a hard time fitting it into the pot, the cabbage, not his head. Although, cooking him was an alternative under consideration.

What do you do with an extra husband after all? Once the marriage was over, he became kind of disposable, like an extra toaster after the wedding. You could always give it away, but somehow that seemed so small minded. Why saddle someone else with your spare toaster? Even more so with a used toaster, one you had cleaned up after, slept with and all that other labour and time not so well spent. Maybe, it was really more like having a sixth finger than an extra toaster. Imagine how awkward that sixth finger would be? Holding a pen would be like a wrestling match and typing would be, well… interesting. Continue reading My First Divorce

The Posts I Wrote for Sex Kitten (2003 – 2004)

I’ve been writing for the Sex-Kitten network since 2003, took some time away from it and then started up again. The old content has been pushed into an archive (which you can find it you look for it but no one would know to look). So, I am reposting it to my own blog, with this post to connect them all. (I wanted a good excuse to try out some of the series plugins for WordPress too).

The following posts are both fiction and non-fiction. They were written at a different time in my life and some of my opinions and ideas may have evolved since these were originally posted. Not much though. I’ve always been pretty true to what I really believe – only my understanding changes as I see the facts differently. The fiction, of course, is just fun. Fun to write and I had fun reading it again and remembering when I wrote it.

Inspire Yourself
Young Cock versus Old Stud
Pussy Fingers
Flirtation, Seduction and Foreplay
Pushing It
Strezzing
You look mahhhvelllouss!
Real Women

My First Divorce
Death by Dreaming
House of Music

 

I Like Taking Myself to Bed

This is my contribution to #AdultSexEdMonth. This is personal and does contain mentions of taboo sexual fetishes and kinks. I don’t apologize for the contents of my sexual fantasies. 

I have a problem with sex. The problem happens when I involve anyone else with my enjoyment of sex. Masturbation is divine. You won’t catch me saying that to anyone, in person. But, masturbation is fully under my control, there is no feedback from cheap seats and I can do whatever I want to myself because I know what I like and how I like it. I explore self pleasuring – I’ve been doing it for a few decades and I’m just getting better at it all the time.

Why does sex have to be about more than one person? I think most people consider self pleasure to still be a selfish act. Or, something for only the lonely.

In actual fact, the best sex I have ever had (except for one very special situation) has been when I was alone in the room. Alone in the building even. In my thoughts I am sometimes alone on the planet even but for my trusty sex bot, or some weird space alien, or other creature from my imagination or readings of other people’s erotica. I do love a good story.

In my sexual fantasies nothing is taboo. I can masturbate my way to orgasm with fantasies of being abducted, alien men with extreme and unusually shaped cocks, age play (based on my own experience of being molested in a movie theatre – which does seem strange to me but nevertheless), sex with animals (the only time I like being near a dog) or anything else wild, dangerous and among the things I would never do in reality and would not even discuss or admit to anyone who knows me.

Having a great imagination and making use of it for your own pleasure does not make you a sexual deviant, it may make you a sexual oddity. But there is nothing law breaking about dreaming up assorted sexual situations while you lie in bed, sit at your desk or in the car… and give yourself a great orgasm.

I have learned to be quiet and fairly quick about it. I almost had my first orgasm when I was about 10. The sensations freaked me out so I stopped at the beginning of the build up. I had no idea why my body was reacting the way it was then. I hadn’t read anything about sex. Parents and sexual education in school didn’t talk about women having orgasms, how your body could flush with pleasure and then burst, all without breaking anything.

In those days I had fantasies about being looked after by a TV doctor, Dr. Kildare for those old enough to know or curious enough to look it up. Richard Chamberlain was the actor. I know this fantasy was based on my issues with my Father. I wanted that caring Daddy who would wrap me up in cotton balls, kiss me gently and make me feel good. I didn’t know about sex toys and had none. I used to bring things to bed with me and use them to play with myself. I won’t go into the assortment but, pens and pencils became my favourite bedtime pastime. Twirling a pencil over my clitoris was a good sensation.

My first orgasm came not from any understanding or knowledge about what I was doing. It was just an accident, on purpose. I was curious about the build up of sensations and finally became curious enough to keep going and see what happened next. I was a little frightened, maybe more than a little. Still, some part of my brain must have known it wasn’t unnatural, in spite of how unusual it seemed. After that first orgasm many more were to follow. By the time I was in my later twenties I was enjoying an orgasm daily. By myself.

I was a virgin, technically, until I was in my early thirties. That was the sex I mentioned earlier. We were both virgins, both the same age and both social misfits. We had been friends for years before sex came into it. We are friends again since the divorce too. So I am one of those old fashioned types who married the first man she slept with. By the way, having sex as a virgin, with a virgin was phenomenal. I doubt it would have been that amazing if we had both been younger. Without having the experience yourself I don’t think you can really ever know what it is like to have your body worshipped.

Anyway, back to the masturbation.

Masturbation can be done with nothing at all, this makes it very portable, mobile even. Sometimes I do like the feeling of something else touching me, something that does not return the feeling which I get from using my own fingers. I used to use the pencils and pens but I have since graduated to a vibrator. I don’t use batteries in it. For one thing, the noise is distracting and for another, I don’t need it to jump or shimmy or vibrate. I like it to penetrate me – but only the odd time. Mostly I like the vibrator (it’s a soft one, not hard plastic) to rub over my clitoris and push just inside the inner lips of my vagina.  I’ve read that vagina only has sensation, the ability to feel, for the first few inches. I have found it to be true. Although I can enjoy the fantasy of being penetrated by something huge, in fact, I enjoy the dip more than the fill up.

Our culture has so many taboos about women and sex, masturbation and virginity and there I was right in the cross-hairs of all three.  I haven’t slept around since the divorce and the marriage itself was light on the sex. But, I don’t feel deprived, anxious or abnormal. I love the orgasms I give myself. Men just seem to mess it all up.

My last actual boyfriend talked so much about how much sex we would have and then… he changed his mind. It ended up with me masturbating him and getting very little back from him. That just isn’t going to work out for me. It was ok for awhile but cock sucking is a double edged thing. I heard my brother and his friends call each other cock suckers and they didn’t mean it like it was a good thing. So, how can men expect women to become cock suckers if being a cock sucker is a bad thing? You can’t have it both ways. So, cock sucking makes me feel dirty, used and angry too.

So, sex with men has not really panned out for me. Men don’t really seem to get it. For one thing they focus on their own needs and when it comes to a woman they think of boobs and pussy, if that much. I want a man who knows I have a body, who discovers how aroused I can get by having my back stroked, lightly scratched and rubbed. I want a man who pats my bum and slips his finger into my pussy from behind. I want a man to explore sensual kinkiness and fetishes with me. I want a man who is masculine and knows what he wants but likes to have a woman in charge sexually. I want a man I can tie up, put in a cage and tease and torment and then laugh at him while he squirms. I want a man who can be a partner in my sexual fantasies and then add his own twist, or take over and become the Daddy who takes care of me but coaxes me to do bad things, naughty things…

I haven’t found that man. I think he might be available in years to come. Ordered online and shipped in a crate. I’d like mine to have a wind up key and an off button. It would be nice if he can also shrink in size for some of my fantasies about little men, like the tiny people from Gulliver’s Travels. I won’t go into details, just leave that for your own kinky, sensual imagination the next time you have some time to yourself and let your fingers do the walking.

Masturbation is very relaxing in the evening when you can’t sleep. (Just in case you didn’t already know).

Emotional Attraction

ice creamI dedicate this post to all those walking dickheads I’ve met through online dating – the bland men.

There is so much talk about gay and straight. I never forget being asked “How do you know you’re straight?” many years ago when I was still going to BDSM munches. I still go to BDSM get togethers but now they are less traditional. No one calls them munches, just Wednesday Night Coffee in town.

When I think about a man’s hands I know that’s what I want. I don’t feel the same about a woman. I can have fantasies or become aroused just from thinking about being touched in ways, in places and in assorted scenarios. The hands (tools, machines, robots, aliens, tentacles, whatever) touching me don’t so much matter when the focus is on myself, my surroundings, the fetish or kinky bits. In fantasies we always focus on ourselves. That’s what makes them so good for us.

However, when I focus on the hands themselves, I want a man’s bigger hands touching me. I want some calluses from his work outdoors. I want clean fingernails cut bluntly square across, no nail polish. I want a light sprinkle of hairs on the back of his hand, over his wrist and leading up to his arm and all the rest of him. I don’t especially want a hairy man, too much hair is too much hair. But, I don’t want a smooth shaved body, like a woman.

I’ve never really wondered all that much about whether I’m gay or not. How do I know whether I like chocolate or vanilla? There’s a bigger question, I like both, especially all swirled together with ribbons of caramel. My favourite ice cream is the Gold Medal Ribbon which I first had at Baskin Robbins as a kid.

Some things are that simple.

Some are not simple at all.

My answer hasn’t changed to the gay or straight question. But, I’ve come to understand more about myself and what I feel. I do desire a man physically but not emotionally. Not that I want a woman either. Emotionally I’d like to be left alone.

A funny thing happened on the way to this point in my life…

I’d like Baskin Robbins to deliver. Can they just send me a crate of Gold Medal Ribbon so I can keep it in the freezer and scoop out a bowl full when I’m in the mood for ice cream?

I’m tired of trying to ‘find someone’. I’ve kissed the frogs. I’ve been married and divorced. My strings have all come undone or been pulled out. I don’t even want to find someone any more. Of course, hope is eternal and can never die. I have a spark which won’t go out and I do look up and think I might just see someone looking back.

But, how can you trust anyone not to be too cynical, too self-centred and actually be looking for me too?

Ice cream may not be doing my weight any favours but it tastes better and hasn’t let me down. Ice cream has never hurt my feelings or made me feel insignificant. Ice cream is there when I want something good in my life again. Ice cream is an emotional thing as well as it’s own food group.

Anyway, I’m not fooling myself. I know ice cream melts and is just cold comfort.

All these years later I am still physically attracted to men but I am not emotionally attracted to them. In the end, if I didn’t have emotions when it came to sex and being close to people, I could just be like the men I meet online and screw whatever looks good enough. No emotions involved. No regrets, no apologies, no sense of actually being with another human being at all.

That’s not me. Sex is all about intimacy, closeness and emotion for me. I’ve never picked up someone at a bar and taken them home to screw me. If I want an orgasm I can have one. I don’t even need modern tools or toys. Sometimes I imagine a man, sometimes it’s an alien… with tentacles or a really weird penis. Even my fantasies have emotion though. Who or whatever I’m with actually wants me. Me, not a blow up doll or the perfect model from some porn site.

I don’t know what sex is without an emotional attraction. People talk about vanilla versus BDSM. The real vanilla is not the people who aren’t kinky, it’s the people who leave the emotion out of it all.

Vanilla is just great with me – it’s a rich flavour which just happens to be light in colour. It’s very unfair to vanilla to have become the word used to describe a lack of flavour, or kinkiness. Instead we should call them bland maybe. Not the people who choose not to be kinky, play with fetishes or experiment with sexuality – bland are the people who perform it all but leave the emotions out of it.

Without the emotions you may as well be doing it yourself, to yourself. If you’re going to be bland about it do so. But, don’t try to drain the emotions out of someone else and hope that will bring you up from being bland to the level of having some flavour. You can’t steal or take emotions because they only feel good when they are your own.

Sometimes I Miss the Tiger I Once Knew

SherkanOnce upon a time, there was a young woman who was just dipping her toes into the social scene on the Internet. IRC (Internet Relay Chat) to be specific because these were the days before blogs and social media became something everyone knew. This young woman was pretty much one of the stereotypical nice girls. She hardly even dated because she was kind of a quiet, serious person and didn’t really talk to men. However, getting online and talking to all kinds of people from the comfort of her own home was fun, exciting even. She became an IRC diva.

This quiet, serious woman found herself made part of a group on an IRC channel. She had the feeling of belonging and having friends and she liked it. She began to flirt and play just as the others did. Back then IRC was new and talking online was a whole different game for people to learn to play. Many people were using the chat to ‘hook up’. Actually, many women were looking for romance and love and many men were looking for a good screw, with something they hoped was female.

So, this quiet, serious young woman met a lot of men online. A group of women in the IRC channel became known for trolling and taunting the men online, those who came into the channel looking for easy women. This young woman was one of the three in the group. The others were Lis and Vix, for short. They had a lot of fun baiting and switching and laughing at the horny trolls.

Then there were the other people in the group, the other regulars. Most evenings they got together and played Truth or Dare in the public channel. The serious, quiet woman had no sexual experience to play the game telling Truth about. So she took the dares, almost every time. She became smart at finding loop holes, or just storytelling her way out of it. A good time was had by all, regardless of whatever Truth or Dares were told.

There were other women in the group, but there were men in the group too. Some became friends, fairly close friends, with the quiet woman (who by this time wasn’t really all that quiet during the chat but was still fairly serious). One man in particular became a regular in the group and the serious woman liked him too. They talked, not just in the public chat.

He was married and wanted to divorce his wife. Things were not going well, she wanted out – or seemed to… You know how that story goes. In this case, the serious woman – though she really did like the man – pushed the man to stick with his marriage. She wasn’t 100% on her decision, she was kind of lonely and still single and not someone who was out there dating outside of her Internet chat ‘dates’. But, being the serious type she was, she did not think she could tell someone to end their marriage, even if she did consider it.

The man offered to come and visit the serious woman. It was a sincere offer, very unlike most offers which she heard from the horny trolls. But, she had her serious way and could not take that step into breaking up a marriage. So, time went on, they still talked and even traded home addresses to send real Christmas cards in the mail. After awhile, a year or so, the chat group broke up, as these transient sort of things will do. Someone had an issue with whoever was in control of the group and people were made to choose sides. Inside this side choosing the group dissolved.

The serious woman lost track of the man after awhile. She lost track of all her friends from the group within a couple of months to a year. She was sad about it but she had met other people and was fine.

A couple of years later she somehow found the man again. He was divorced (or separated) from his wife and living with one of the other women from the group. Not one of the two who had been her game playing friends but one of the women she had talked to in a more human to human way and had actually gotten to know a bit. Sadly, the serious woman was not one of those who saved every online conversation so the details were lost in the vast space of her mind.

The man and the woman both talked to the serious woman, and kept in touch for a short time. Then she lost track of them again as she so often does.

People will sometimes ask if you have regrets. I say no, not really. You can’t go back and change things anyway, so what is the point of thinking of anything you regret. However, when I think about it, I do regret not being a little bolder, thinking more about myself than the other woman and what was right and proper in a by-the-book way.

So the moral of the story… don’t try to live by rigid standards which you didn’t set for yourself.

The Spencer Spanking Plan, 1936

The Spencer Spanking Plan

 

By Dorothy Spencer

 

*this was written so long ago that we believe it has fallen out of copyright. In any case, if you know who Dorothy Spencer is, we’d like to give her credit for this very entertaining piece.

 

 

Foreword

Several years ago I conceived the idea of settling domestic misunderstandings in our home upon a somewhat unique basis — the giving of and submitting to carefully regulated corporal punishment. Continue reading The Spencer Spanking Plan, 1936