Elspeth Demina

Just another sexy weblog

Review: Jackboot Paddle August 6, 2012

Filed under: kink,reviews,she vibe,toys — Lorax Of Sex @ 11:58 pm

What spanko boot lover wouldn’t want a paddle with a nice hefty boot sole? I don’t know, because I definitely wanted it! I had such fantasies about warm, rosy bootprints on my ass the moment I first saw photos of the Jackboot Paddle. The tagline used by the maker is even “Always leaves it’s mark”! The nice folks at SheVibe sent me one to play with, and I was super excited when it arrived in the mail. I promptly delivered it over to Daddy, because it’s not like I’m gonna spank myself with it. I’ve now had the pleasure of playing with it in a few different scenarios and I’ve gotta say- I like it, but not in the way I expected to.

The paddle is much more light-weight than I’d expected it to be. I think the rubber tread is probably the heaviest part of the whole paddle. The wooden base is 1/4″ ply and the boot tread is glued on. I’ve pulled and pried at the tread, and it’s definitely stuck on there solidly. The “stitching” on the sole is faux, just part of the rubber mould for the tread. I’m confident, however, that adhesion of the sole to the wood is not a likely fail point. What disappoints me about the weight of the paddle is (as many impact-toy lovers will know) that light-weight generally means the sensations are on the sting-ier side than the thud-y side. I’m an avowed non-fan of sting-y sensations, with the rare exceptions of bare-handed spanking and belt-spankings, both of which have very unique attributes which trump their sting-y nature. Canes? Oh hell no. Canes are a surefire way to make me run to the other side of the room, and grab any implement I can find to defend myself against you with. With a firm follow-through there is a mix of sting and thud, but the sensation is definitely not what I was expecting. At first I thought perhaps it was because of the rubber of the tread, but then I remembered that I’ve been on the receiving end of the (now discontinued) BadAss Tire Tread Paddles and that was most decidedly a thud-y experience, so I’m pretty sure it’s just the lack of heft in the case of the Jackboot Paddle.

Where I feel this paddle really shines isn’t as a paddle at all really, but as a sensation toy. Dragging the tread along my back, over my ass, scraping my inner thighs, that was awesome. Of course, you can do this with your actual boots on your feet as well (and I like that quite a bit I must say) but the paddle is super handy for angles that are difficult or impossible with boot-clad feet, and also makes this sort of bootplay possible for those with disability. I’m big on accessibility, what can I say? Combining the sensation play of the sole with using the paddle as a paddle worked the best for me. I didn’t mind the sting as much then, because my mind was still focused partially on the scrape-y feeling. Sadly, I have yet to retain an impression from the tread, which was something I was really hoping for. I’ve been told that these paddles are great for making impressions by placing them upon a person and putting weights atop it, or having them sit on the paddle. I can definitely see temporary impressions being much more likely that way, though you’re not going to get tread-shaped bruises, which are what I really wanted. Oh well. I have seen other asses retain a boot-print welt and surface bruise though, so it’s certainly possible. Maybe I just have a resistant ass? Actually, that’s a very real possibility. Anyone who follows my twitter knows my love of marks, and grumpiness when they fade quickly.

Going back to the construction of the paddle, I do have some reservations on the materials choice for the base of the paddle. As I said earlier, it’s decidedly lightweight, and that means that for those who strike hard you run the risk of breaking the paddle. Some of us would be rather amused and delighted at a paddle breaking across our butt, but it still means you’re now left without a toy that you paid for.
I have actually seen one paddle where this happened. It was at Beyond Leather in Florida earlier this year, and indeed a strong strike on firm buttocks and the wood failed rather spectacularly. I’ve not had this happen to me personally, but it’s something to be aware of as a possibility with a paddle that is thin like this, especially if you or your partner are a hard-hitter. If you’ve had toys break across your butt before, you might want to reinforce the back of the paddle. Or not, if you don’t mind breaking toys.

I’m totally stoked that I got to play with this, and now that it’s been added to the toy wall at Daddy’s place I’m sure I’ll get to play with it more. It’s even got me thinking- I have a friend who made a paddle out of purpleheart wood. Got my brainmeats workin’ on an idea for a heavier more thud-y paddle with a sole. Hmm indeed…

So, if you’re a fan of sting-y paddles, a spanko, and/or a boot lover (or have one in your life) I’d say the Jackboot Paddle definitely belongs in your toybag. SheVibe has it for a super-affordable $36 too, which is hard to beat if you ask me.


Adventures In… Fantasies, Kink, and Bucket Lists March 14, 2012

Last February I posted about being asked what my sexual fantasies were, and my issues expressing or understanding them (such as they were). At the time I was struggling with how small and vulnerable I felt being asked to tell my Daddy about my fantasies were, what thoughts came up upon seeing him, and what things got me off at home when we were apart. I was very shy and the shyness about these questions made me feel very Little indeed. I came to the conclusion that I don’t fantasise like others, and rather fixate on things from past experiences, and that fills my fantasy gap. I was content with answer at the time, it seemed.

We’re a few weeks past a year later, and here I am to think on it some more. I’ve actually been thinking on this quite a bit of the last few months, through my time laid up from surgery and illness (those really are some good times to just sit back and think about yourself and your goals and feelings, I find). Later in the same year Lee Harrington’s delightful journal on Sexual Fantasy was published and helped me further into insight of how to create these solid communicable ideas which I can open up to others, and where my fears lie, to accept those, and put them in the open as well. There are certainly worries and fears, moreso perhaps for those of us who do feel Little and as such want to blush, hide, runaway, brat, or lose our words.

Opening up to fantasies also opens us up not just in these vulnerable  ways but also to the risky delicate dance of facilitation and negotiations for some things. As Lee says so nicely in his journal:

Things I often get shy saying, because of fear of rejection, or fear that they will be promised to me but not happen (that has happened a LARGE number of times in my life, and it sucks).  I tend not to tell folks what I really am looking for, because if I get excited about the possibility, I feel let down if it does not happen.  I worry that when I discuss my actual body realities, my health concerns, my safer sex rules, etc, that I may get turned down even after folks get all excited (which has happened many times to be honest).  I have moved for the most part to instead speaking desires out loud, and if they happen, cool.This too, is not the best system.  But its what I can do right now emotionally.  Some days I go proactive.I have major challenges with the shopping-list approach to sexual and kink negotiation.  Sign up here for a gangbang.  Um… gr… just can’t wrap my head around it.

Which brings me to me, and some of my fantasies. Sexual fantasies sounds rather limiting to my mind, so I’m going to call them kinky fantasies. Anyhow, in no particular order:

  • A boot and leather centric scene, blacking a series of leathers through predicament situations and sensation, but also being permitted time to truly just dedicate my entire body to blacking. (requires an existant partner)
  • Sensory depravation. My mind wanders to heavy leather sleepsacks, or palatte wrap, or somesuch similar. A hood. A blindfold. Headphones with pre-programmed music in. Suspended in the air, and just let to feel, to think, to process, and to be. (This would be a deeply personal and carthartic scene, and requires someone willing to help with anything that would need addressing in the intermediate. Pre-planning to have a therapy appointment follow the day before is a must.)
  • To be collared in a more serious collar than a play collar. A collar of daddy’s-girl-hood, protection, perhaps even property. (would depend on many factors for property, that’s a rather charged word to me)
  • Fun and floppily dynamic partial suspensions. Lots of laughter. Lots of lightheartedness. Lots of hitty-hitty.
  • Being bound, somewhere dark for a long time, enough to lose track of time. Occasionally to be used or beaten. (Would need to be someone who is ok with my flipping out/getting emotional)
  • Being drugged and fucked/played with while unconscious.
  • Heavy boot play, my body grinding into the ground beneath you under your soles, your bootprint on the side of my face, treadmarks on my cunt.
  • Combined intense candle wax, rope, and spanking/flogging scene. (relies heavily on the D/s dynamic for this to not just be a very surface scene)
  • Nazi interrogation/rape scene.
  • Having my body pissed on, then my cunt pissed in and fucked full of piss. (obviously someone I’m fluid bonded with)
  • A day of learning whatever lesson Daddy deems I need in order to be able to grow. (potential for fun, or for awful)
  • Going to the movies, or a day at the Aquarium, or to the arcade, with some sort of naughty thing going on under my clothes. With a companion, not just alone. I’ve done this with rope before, so I’d like to add more next time.
  • Electrical play. Let’s not forget the electro-bike saga. I really want to explore this more. I have ideas, and a scary-as-fuck gift to be given once I work up the nerve to do so.
  • To play right on the edge of true fear. Again, like the deeply cathartic scene, this is risky business. I still really want to do it though.

Now, I still have my old style fantasies, where I think intensely hard on one aspect of something I like or have done. Things like the ingenius little leather cuff Daddy owns and which I wore on one of our formative dates. The first time he spanked me, where, when, how, how I felt… and the first time he beat me with his belt, where, when, how, how it felt, how it compares, what I have learned… I dream about mornings waking to Daddy rousing me from my cage for an early morning fuck before we both head off to work. I dream a lot how Daddy takes my breath away, and how happy it makes me feel.

So, I think about fantasies, but I’m shy and unusually awkward compared to how I seem. I am a little girl at heart, and I carry my Daddy’s watchful eye and protective heart with me wherever I go. I’m an autonomous individual, free to do as I please, but knowing I’ve got him in my corner looking out for me is giving me a bit more confidence. Not much though. I’ll likely continue to limit who I will play list rather strictly for the time being. Who knows, maybe that’ll change too!


I Volunteered With The Seattle Erotic Arts Festival (and all I got was one less hard limit) June 2, 2011

Filed under: events,kink,my life,seaf — Lorax Of Sex @ 12:45 pm

No, the illness which was afflicting me earlier this month didn’t eat me alive- SEAF did. What’s SEAF? That would be the Seattle Erotic Arts Festival. It’s an annual event, going on ten years next year, which showcases erotic art in various forms. Last year a few folk I knew, and a number of folk I didn’t know but wanted to, were working with SEAF and so I figured why the hell not and signed up to volunteer. I had such a blast helping out unpack and hang art that I decided to help out again this year.

Oh boy did I help out. Unlike last year where I drove 30 minutes into the city after I got out of some classes I was taking, helped out for a few hours, then did it all again the next day, this year I decided to dedicate myself fully to SEAF for the whole pre-show insanity and the full weekend of the event. Yeah, I’m crazy. I took the week off work, and spent my time checking in artwork being dropped off for the exhibition, wrangling spreadsheets, and waking up far FAR earlier than I think anyone should. As luck would have it, not only did I get to do art-handling and installing (and somehow becoming the queen of all knowledge related to the spreadsheets), I got asked to assistant stage-manage the mainstage production. I have a delightful history of getting added to the production team for shows the day before opening night so I put on my headset, hopped onto the com, and away we went! Being backstage and in my element again awoke some parts of me which have too long been dormant, and it felt absolutely amazing.

My techie self wasn’t the only thing that SEAF awoke, and while I’d love to wank on about what a wonderful time I had ASMing and all that rot, you’re probably wondering what the “and all I got was one less hard limit” is all about. That’s fair, it’s really my favourite part of my SEAF experience this year.

photo courtesy of adameros photography

My favourite piece in the entire show was a delightfully interactive installation work by Dana Ollestad called the Electro-Bike. The catalog description of the Electro-Bike says you can “Control your own experience with this everyday object newly subverted into an electrical device that rides the thrilling line between pleasure and pain.” I’d say that’s a spot-on explanation of what the bike was all about. I’ll admit- the entire first day of SEAF I walked past the bike over and over never even looking at it twice. “Eh, it’s a bike” I thought. I didn’t feel a draw to look at it further really. Afterall, what was so exciting or erotic about a bike on a static-training stand? What I’d failed to notice initially was the little generator tucked into the frame. It wasn’t until a couple of folk were geeking over the construction and wiring of the bike that I got interested.

Shortly thereafter I got a chance to climb onto the bike. It was then that I learned that it wasn’t what I (and many patrons I soon learned) had thought it was. Everyone assumed that the saddle would vibrate or electrify. Oh no. The saddle was just a normal bike saddle. What wasn’t so normal were the handles- they were exposed metal wired to that tiny little generator under the frame. Just the tiniest movement of the pedals and BZZZZT! the electrical tingle shot up my arms. I jumped off the bike, displeased at how it felt, and went back about my SEAFly duties. It wasn’t long before I was back on the bike again. And again. And again. And “Are you on the bike again? Really? You’re such a pig!” comments began to come from friends and staff. Yup, I loved that bike. Anyone who was there Saturday afternoon and evening heard my love of the bike resonating down the corridors of the festival too.

Not only did I love the bike, not only was I back on it every time my muscles stopped tingling from the previous ride, but before the bike electrical play was firmly on my hard limit list. I’ve licked my fair share of 9v batteries backstage to discern the live from the dead ones to put into mic-packs. I’ve been electrocuted (mildly) twice. I am freaked out by the high-frequency machine we use in spas to zap zit-forming bacteria (it feels like a needle poke!). The bike changed my mind about electricity, and now I can’t WAIT to get to play more with it. What did it feel like to face a hard limit, and crash through it like the Kool-Aid man? “Oh Yeah!” is about right if you ask me, but I’ll let you see for yourself… (and if you need more, I’ve got a second video up too)


Sometimes I need a good release May 5, 2011

Filed under: humor,kink,my life,watersports — Lorax Of Sex @ 3:15 pm

Sometimes life gets the better of all of us, and we just need a release. Right now life has decided to throw itself into a blender and hit “liquify”. Hoo-boy. I feel bad about not having the post I wanted to have for today, but I’m feeling rather honest and open right now so you’re getting this post instead. You see, I’d had this really awesome idea for a Cinco de Mayo post. It was going to be amazing. I was going to have insightful thoughts about the oft joked about and little discussed kink of watersports. I was going to talk about my personal internal conflicts about pee. I was going to share some SERIOUS secrets that I’ve never told anyone. There were going to be pop-music references. It was going to be awesome. Sadly- it hasn’t happened.

I fancy myself a bit of an intellectual and a scholar, and as such I hate the idea of talking on a topic such as this without having some good resources backing me up. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find scholarly sources for information on playing with pee? There’s erotica and porn a-plenty, but actual factual talk about it, especially accounts of what it means to those who like it? Yeah not so much. There are a few health-related things floating around out there, but that’s really about it. So this post will still happen, it’s just gonna be a while in coming. Instead today you’re getting this straight-from-my-fingertips post which isn’t even being run past my editors first! Oooh edge-blogging!

Why tell you all this? And what does pee have to do with Cinco de Mayo? Well… Little Brother and I kinda have a joke going as a result of Twisted Monk’s “Mexican Beer Story”. The video is safe, there’s no nudity or anything. Heck I don’t think there’s even much if any profanity in it! If you’re looking for pointers on how to accomplish the actual enough-pee-for-a-scene situation, or you just want a good laugh, watch the video. Needless to say, I know better than to invite that man over for a beer. As for why I’m telling you this? Partly to say “Hey intertubewebz! I’m looking for thoughts, meanings, information about why you do/don’t do/love/don’t love pee play!”, and partly because I really just wanted to share the links which are keeping me sane right now, and giving me a bit of a release. I know that I’ll be humming this song from Sia all day…


What do you mean, kinky? April 20, 2011

Filed under: kink,my life,thoughts — Lorax Of Sex @ 12:00 pm

Crista Anne of PinkSexGeek[dot]com recently posted her thoughts on being labeled as “kinky”. Reading her post I realized that I had never really put much thought into my own personal definition of what it is to be kinky, or who and what is kinky, and that perhaps I should do so.

The dictionary definition, according to Merriam-Webster is

2: relating to, having, or appealing to unconventional tastes especially in sex; also : sexually deviant

I’d say that this is somewhat in-line with my own personal definition of kinky. I do consider myself kinky- I enjoy and am aroused by things which are not conventionally considered sex or sexual. I go farther than the furry handcuffs and the little slap and tickle which is socially acceptable to portray in sitcoms on television. I have fantasies which I would some day like to enact that would have my therapist squirm. I like to watch. I like to be watched. I like to be scared and to transmute pain into pleasure. I enjoy many facets of BDSM. I’d say that I am most definitely kinky.

What Crista mentions in her post about others placing the mantle of kinky on her brings up a good point. When someone enjoys sex toys, is kink-aware and kink-accepting, does this make them kinky? By today’s standards I’d say no, but that may be because I spend my time with a lot of REALLY kinky people. I look at it much as I look at the progression of envelope-pushing in present day pornography. Go back ten-twenty years and someone who engaged in anal sex was considered kinky. Buttsecks was the envelope-push in mainstream porn. Now? It’s pretty much a given that it’ll be in most videos, even if they aren’t butt themed.

As our society progresses (well, in certain parts of the country at least) what is considered out of the ordinary and thus kinky changes. There was a time when talking openly about liking and using toys would fall under my definition of kinky, but today? It’s sex-positive, it’s sexy, and it’s awesomepants, but is it kinky? Notsomuch, at least in my book.


What If I Safeword? April 13, 2011

Filed under: kink,my life,thoughts — Lorax Of Sex @ 11:30 am

What happens if I use my safeword? This has always been at the back of my mind. I’m sure it’s something that many of us have thought about. What happens, really, if a safeword gets used in the middle of whatever activities we enjoy? We all know, or I should hope we know, the basics: stop the action, check in, and address the issue. What happens mentally and emotionally though, when safewords are called or the action is otherwise halted? What goes through our heads, the heads of the other person(s) involved? How do we address the aftercare in these instances?

I had a bit of a run-in with this not too long ago, and while I’m trying to not focus on it too much I do find myself still post-mortem-ing the events of that night. There are a lot of what-if’s but most of those are just that, what-if, and I’m trying not to harp on them. What I’m more interested in looking at is my own personal response to having been in a situation where the activities at hand needed to be stopped immediately, and which ended the fun for the night.

I find that I was equally shaken by the fact that I had to say no than by the reason I had to say no. What about it shook me? It was my first time doing anything which could be considered safewording, and that upset me. I like to be able to reach inside myself and move through and push myself, so this felt like a defeat. I don’t take well to being defeated. More than being defeated though, was that I didn’t ACTUALLY safeword.

Now, I don’t engage in kink activities where “no” is a word to be ignored unless explicitly agreed upon from the beginning. This worked out to be fortuitous for me in this case. That night when I found myself plunged deep into a flashback of an extremely traumatic experience from my past, I could think of nothing but “no”. No! No no no. Clawing my way away from the situation, and calling out that one word was all I knew in that moment. It wasn’t until what felt like hours before I was aware of my partner speaking to me, bringing me back to the world. It took a good three days before I registered what he had been saying. THAT was scary. Realizing three full days later that I’d not actually heard his words, just the sound of his voice and that he was trying to help.

I am blessed to have some wonderful friends in my life, and while I generally do not kiss and tell I turned to my part-time roommate for support and guidance. I felt sad. I felt broken. I felt disappointed in myself. I felt like I could have prevented the event somehow. I both wanted to talk and to hide. I recognize though, that I was in good hands both during and after, that I had love and support, and that I was safe.

I wonder, what do others do in these situations? I can only imagine what it must be like for a top to see their partner drop like that. What can I as a bottom do in the future to help my top after an incident like this? These are the things I now ponder…


One Kink to Rule Them All (and in the darkness bind them) February 27, 2011

Filed under: kink,my life,thoughts — Lorax Of Sex @ 12:00 pm

In the course of conversation with a dear friend today, I was asked “What is your preferred kink?”. Now, anyone who knows me well can predict my grinning and uppity answer “I have to make choices?”. We laughed, continued talking about other subjects in the conversation, and my smartass self was spared having to come up with what I read the question as seeking: my One True Kink.

The question kept popping back into my mind though throughout the day. What is my preferred kink? What IS my preferred kink? I’m not sure. Do I have one? I know there are things I do not like, but that’s not the same. As I rolled the question around in my head, a few questions of my own came up:

Are the things we naturally do, or are drawn to, without even realizing that they are “different”, our preferences? Or would a preference have to be something we consciously choose to engage in and take on?

Do our preferences hold across all lovers and partners, or are they more individual to the individual?

An interesting and thought-provoking question, which has me pondering now more the nature of a “preferred kink” than what specific kink or set of kinks might fall under that heading for me.