Cotton Ward » S&M

tattoo fetish

cottonward — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 12:59:12 +0000

Went to G’s talk on tattoos.

*Got his first tattoo at 42. He’d waited 20 years and finally got the courage.

He joked: “I was worried what Mum would think, though I got 30 piercings and Mum didn’t say anything about those.”

*G was in a TV doco about donating his tattoos to the NSW Art Gallery. It’s a great doco and we watched it.

*Most frequent questions: Do you have a tattoo? Yes. How much do they cost? Lots. Do you regret having them? No.

*When he had the tattoos done, “the perception of my body changed”. “Tiny minds” rejected him but he felt empowered.

*Recommends www.inked-up.com is good and gay-friendly.

*It costs about $160/hr for a tattoo, more if it’s done by a specialist.

*Years ago, the colours available were only black, red, green and yellow (they added mustard to yellow and it “hurt like hell”.) Now there are many more.

*When being gay was illegal, gay men used to get tattoos of busty women as a decoy.

*”Lots of friends died during the 1980s. We were going to 2-3 funerals a week.”

*He was inspired by Merv Chapman, who was in the S&M scene in Sydney in the 1950s-1960s. “Slicing balls in half.” Merv had a full body tattoo done by the most famous tattoo artists in the world who drew works that were made only for him – the theme was Greek and Roman mythology. He’s buried at South Head Cemetery.

*G’s theme is “Garden of earthly delights”. Mostly native Australian plants, the Sydney Harbour Bridge, the Opera House, and 30 little penises. The coat of arms of his parents on each foot.

*How do you get someone to tattoo your genitals? Build a relationship by getting lots of work done by them.

*The scrotum has a lot of flesh when it’s stretched out. Dick features ivy leaves and a rose on the head. “It was very slow and painful.” They used yellow but the colour faded within hours (the body rejects certain colours at different times).

*As he’s got older, he can’t do longer tattooing sessions. Breaks it down.

*History: Captain Cook, the Endeavour – stopped in Tahiti and got tribal-style tattoos. When they got to Botany Bay, they didn’t have anything to do while naturalist Joseph Banks (banksia were named after him) was running around drawing and collecting plants, so they might have tattooed each other on the beach then. When they returned to England, their tattoos sparked a craze which spread across Europe.

You can be whoever you want to be

cottonward — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 01:44:57 +0000

It was a balmy night and about 30 of us went to Surry Hills to see Lee Harrington, a special guest presenter visiting from the US, who comes here every couple of years. He reminded us that last time he was here, he was a voluptuous, curvy woman, Bridgett, but has had surgery and the D-cups are gone.

He was teaching us “invocation and evocation techniques” for people who want to play roles: short-term or 24/7 as archetypes, ponies, dogs, etc.

He explained that invocation means “to draw in from outside” and evocation is to “call up from inside yourself”. “How do we do this? By using songs, smells, words, sounds, posture, clothing, the presence of a certain person, imagination.”

“People have favourite roles and can revisit, and invest and attach to them,” he said. “Some take it on 24/7. Daddy and little girl. Dog and master. Boy and Daddy.”

He mentioned a couple who do “age play” where the “boy” is a mature man but plays the role of a six-year-old who is “not allowed to use silverware”. And a couple who liked to dress up as 18-year-old teens and pretend they’re sneaking into a nightclub for over-21s.

He talked us through what you should discuss with participants first:

* Are you playing an archetype or re-enacting a personal painful memory or trauma?

“If people want to re-enact or use items that recall a traumatic scene of abuse for them, that’s fine. Don’t worry about being politically incorrect or wrong – if you spend your life carrying around 50 pounds of extra baggage, you might as well unpack it and use it sometimes.”

He said problems can arise when you aren’t conscious of where your preferences have originated and later you might remember it was from a negative incident.

He said warning bells start ringing for him when a player asks for more than three specific things to be included in a roleplay – eg. “Wear a checked shirt”, “Say these words”, “Strike me on the left cheek”.

“In these cases, it’s often a re-enactment of a personal painful memory or trauma. That can be OK if I know — otherwise, it could be above my pay grade. But they have to be upfront.

“Playing a role can be therapeutic, but it’s not therapy.”

* Compare lexicons to make sure you both are talking about the same types of archetypes. Eg. dogs: is it a fluffy, cute dog or snarly growly one?

* “How much do we emotionally invest? How deep do we want to go? Tonight or 24/7?

“One person’s whole identity and soul might be invested in service, which makes them very vulnerable. If they’ve cleaned something and you say, ‘You missed a spot’ this could trigger a deep wound that they’re still smarting about week later. You weren’t meaning to destroy their integral identity! This happens!”

* Be aware of the intensity of emotions that can happen during role-playing. Eg, someone who’s playing as a puppy for the first time might feel unbridled trust and joy in another person for the first time, emotions they’d tamped down. “Is it love or the roles? It might be a bit of both.”

* Compare the level of financial investment.

“If your partner invests in fur suits or a B&B that used to be an old jail, take note.

“If someone suggests a pony scene, one person might buy $1000 worth of equipment online and book a holiday near a field. The other might have envisaged a ‘just for tonight’ scene.

* Identify what’s a fetish and distinguish between the degrees of fetishism. “When they specify they want you to wear boots that are thigh-high or exactly cut off at the knee – that’s a fetish”.

The degrees are: partialism (“wear this and you’re attractive”), paraphilia (“if you don’t wear this, you’re less attractive”) and debilitating paraphilia (where your life functionability is impaired because you see the fetish and must drop everything and respond to the fetish immediately).

* You must have an exit plan for emotions – “You can sit with a feeling like ‘sorrow’ but it can drag you down and leave a bitter taste.” The exit plan is to have a good core identity, and set up anchors words, sounds, sights, smells or images that can make “coming back” easier.

“You can let your inner serial killer out for five minutes and then put it back in the drawer.”

Most unbelievable fetish ever

cottonward — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 02:24:55 +0000

I find it very annoying — the dent in my hair from wearing a ponytail.

There’s someone who takes photos and loves that dent in the hair.

Sex toys controlled via the internet

cottonward — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 03:06:16 +0000

A friend blogged about a favourite sex toy which is controlled via the internet.

I’d heard of sex toys being operated by a remote, but usually within a limited range, across the same room.

“The Televibe is a must for great phone sex or long distance domination. It’s easy to use and comes with an instruction packet.”

There’s a menu: you key in various numbers for different effects from the vibrator. No. 8 is Techno! For that setting you have to set up a crazy light show, take an “e”, listen to the same monotonous beat over and over while throwing your hands in the air.

Fetish dance party

cottonward — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 01:25:16 +0000

I went to a dance party recently and the police were there for a few hours with sniffer dogs, continually doing walk-throughs and taking people aside for a frisking and checking through their bags even if the dog hadn’t spotted anything. Which seemed pointless cause the only thing they seemed to be dispensing were little yellow tickets – might have been cautions or something, maybe for wearing something dangerous (eg. spiky).

I objected to their dour-faced demeanour the entire time. And the most insane thing were the “plain clothes” police – they might as well have been dresssed in clown outfits, they were so ridiculously “screaming in your face” obvious. I don’t think anyone’s worn anything like that in public to a dance party since Enimen’s 8 Mile – they had baggy khaki camo trousers, pastel-coloured baggy sloppy joes (which kept riding up to reveal all their police equipment), baseball caps on backwards and white sneakers! This was at a party where *everyone* was wearing black and it was mostly leather harnesses, slave chain chokers, leather jockstraps and a cock ring underneath.

On a taxpayer-funded budget, they could have got by with a cheap secondhand boy scout uniform from C’s Flashback in Crown Street (just up from the cop shop) or done a spot of mummification with Glad wrap. Or just cut the crotch out of something. But white sneakers! There’s no way they would have got past the door bitch as they didn’t meet the fetish dress code.

And then they’d lurk/stand behind their next targets, staring at us, and a few minutes later the dog squad would pounce. It’s creepy to stand behind groups of women, boyz!

The best bit was the dog – black and puppyish demeanour and so thrilled to be at the party. It even found “drugs” next to a person standing next to me – turned out to be an empty wrapper with drugs, though. They made the dog run up and down the stairs all night.

The big police presence was supposed to be to protect us, the patrons, from the feral gangs driving around at night wanting to bash anyone who looked freaky.

Instead, I think it was the police who insisted on no pass-outs (they do that so people can’t go back and forth to their car to take drugs and return) and some people had planned to also go to Klub Kooky tonight and go back and forth but couldn’t.

What gets me even more is that it meant as I wandered off at some ungodly hour back to my car, I couldn’t ask anyone to accompany me. I was parked miles away on the main street and on another occasion I’d had a car stop on that street and a bloke try to drag me into his 4WD.

Anyway, I had to specially ask the bouncer who arranged for a security guard to escort me, and the guard told me the police had frowned upon him doing that, but he’d insisted, as patrons were most vulnerable then.

There were half a dozen police outside the dance party and none of them offered to walk me back to the car.

I don’t see why the police have to be so dour-faced and unfriendly.

As someone joked before the party: “The patrons will mainly be lawyers anyway.”

Otherwise, it was a fantastic party. The pole dancers were amazing (I heard the pole was later taken apart and searched by police) and a stripper called Fanny did a “milking the cow” striptease that involved a scene I won’t be able to get out of my head for weeks: the climax was dimming the lights, turning on UV ligthing and then repeatedly pouring milk over all crevices of her body. It was amazing.

Bumped into someone downstairs who’d “just broken up with someone” but he was back in the saddle. “I keep tilting at windmills.”

The party had sold out a few days before, so there was a great turn-out.

There’s a Ninja in the dungeon

cottonward — Sun, 05 Aug 2007 01:01:01 +0000

Went to see a visiting Ninja at an inner west dungeon. He’s not into BDSM – he’s a 73-yr-old Texan ninja master and former airline pilot whose stepdaughter is a pro-domme in Australia, so he taught her a few moves to use with her domming and for her protection. He visits her once a year and does demos for other dungeon dwellers, by request.

He showed us some rope tricks with a difference – he can do fancy tying but he’d rather gain control and get the other person off-balance, mentally or otherwise.

“Never play by the rules. If you follow rules, you’ll train yourself to follow them, then you’ll get eaten alive by someone without rules.

“And never play the other person’s game. Set your own rules and play your own game.”

When playing with rope, he said it was best not to think of it as “tying someone up”.

“Think of entangling them. Then, when you have control, you can spend time doing your fancy knots.”

He showed us how to put someone off balance without touching them and that the most important thing is to be able to get out of the way effectively, with small movements.

“People misunderstand what’s effective – you just need positioning and very quick movements. Power = mass and speed. Speed is not genetic – the more relaxed you are, the faster the strike.”

He said most people “misunderstand what’s effective”, and demonstrated on all of us by touching pressure points. As he did relaxed flicks or pokes, he got me to feel his arms as he did them and I could feel no muscle contraction, it was completely loose and relaxed.

“I want you to all feel it [the pressure points] and press them yourselves too. This is not a demo – it’s training. Pain is a very powerful motivator for learning.”

He told us a story about how five Japanese police officers could not control a drunken tall Swede, so they ran to the nearest Sensei (ninja) – a shrivelled little old man – who came out and slapped the bloke once and he was out! Then he showed us the slapping move! Much dropping to the floor ensued.

Ninja in action. Note: ninja footwear.

24/7 relationship with fictional Harry Potter character

cottonward — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 04:00:53 +0000

I wrote this piece after a couple of weeks of interviewing one of the Snape’s Wives and have written it up in the first person viewpoint using her words.
I wrote it to share with the Sydney S&M (BDSM) scenesters, as I was interested in the dynamics of a relationship with an authoritarian character who is “fictional” and how and whether this works in real life.
At the bottom of this piece, I’ve included comments from other Snape fans about how he has influenced their lives. I’ve taken their names off to give them privacy.

Woof! BDSM 24/7 role play lifestyle

cottonward — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 03:59:25 +0000

Dog, 53, and DaddySir, 40, met seven years ago when Dog emigrated from New Zealand, “looking for a man”.
“Being a dog is part of my whole persona – I don’t switch it on or off,” Dog says.
“We don’t distinguish between the S&M scene and the dog scene [dogdom] – I’m always the dog/slave and he’s always the master. But it’s not just S&M – we’re full partners. The only thing that intrudes on our relationship is work.”
Neither of them are into bestiality. “Sex of any sort with a real dog wouldn’t be considered. I know some guys may include this in their lifestyle, but Sir and I don’t.”
DaddySir has been in the leather scene since his mid-20s, was Australian Drummer Boy ’92 (a title sponsored by Drummer, a US gay leather magazine, 1975-1999). He knew various leatherati such as International Mr Drummer Clive Platman and his boy John Siracusa, mixed socially with Leather Views columnist Jack Rinella’s household, and was interviewed by Berkeley anthropology professor Gayle Rubin. He later lived in San Francisco and has been on US and Australian organising committees for leather events.
“In the US, the roles are completely defined,” DaddySir says. “The slave strips and waits in a specific posture. But we have much more fluid roles.”
DaddySir’s interest was piqued when one of his ex-lovers had a human pup. Also, when he was travelling through Amsterdam in the mid-90s “the founder of The Dog House followed me around like a pup”.
“We know a few other couples in Sydney but the scene is fairly private,” DaddySir says. “If you’re looking for someone, put yourself out there. Go on the Net.”
Dog said he’d learnt about dogdom by chatting online and looking at PupZone.com and TheDogHouse.org.
Their families know they’re into leather, but “not about the dog thing”, DaddySir says.
He explains they play in “full dog mode” about 20 per cent of the time. “Life gets in the way. Mentally, he’s always dog to me.“
At other times, Dog is “always my slave and submissive. I’m always ‘right’.
“There’s always soap in the shower, I don’t have to change the toilet roll or worry about having clean undies.”
DaddySir is often busy out and about, so when Dog needs time in full mode, he is allowed to suggest it by barking and taking his mitts to his Master.
“I get a lot of love and affection from him – like a pet – but even more so,” DaddySir says. “He matters a lot to me. I like having him nearby – I scratch his tummy and he curls up at my feet. He often falls asleep clamped to my boots – I have to wake him up to move when my bladder’s full.”
When Dog is in full dog mode, DaddySir describes being a master as “demanding”. “I have to provide total care”, which includes tethering Dog to restraint points, dishing the food, cleaning dog bowls, emptying the pee bucket, buying new sheepskin rugs and providing discipline and entertainment.
Like a real dog, Dog is naked around the home, apart from his chain, collar and ball weights, and rarely uses furniture, except when he has permission to use the computer and sometimes when dining.
At the evening meal, Dog usually does the slave role of cooking, then DaddySir spoons the food into one of two big aluminium dog bowls on the floor.
“He always eats from a dog bowl in the morning and most evenings,” DaddySir says. “It’s a bit too difficult to do that when we’re having steak, but it’s good with spag bol or most other foods – tuna carbonara, honey and mustard chicken and rice.
“We have lots of little tricks – we put a pie plate in the bowl to make it a bit shallower. He drinks out of a bowl and is very good at it – it’s a skill.” Dog wipes his face clean on a mat.
“He never eats dog food – it’s not healthy in the long term,” says DaddySir.
When they’re in the living room, there’s a restraint point where dog’s chain is tethered. “I am usually attached to this in the evening,” Dog says. “Dogs shouldn’t be left to roam about!”
DaddySir says: “He sits at my feet on a sheepskin rug. He’s got arthritis, so he’s more comfy on the floor.”
When it comes to playtime, Dog describes himself as an “old dog” who is not into puppy play such as scampering and fetching. “Lots of [people who play as] puppies don’t associate S&M with dogdom because they think you shouldn’t hurt a dog. I’ve had several real dogs and wouldn’t think of hurting them. But our style is different. I like S&M too.
“I tend to push – I headbutt him for attention. I take the crop to him in my mouth if I want a good whipping.”
Dog didn’t need any training. “I just showed hm where to eat, pee and sleep,” DaddySir says. “There’s a bucket on a mat where he pees. He has different barks and whines to let me know what he wants.”
There are numerous pet accoutrements to enhance the role.
For example, Dog has several sets of ball weights to make his testicles appear more dog-like.
“They swing about and bounce with them on,” Dog says.
“I often wear a 440g and 700g together when I’m at home. The 440g one fits under clothing so I can wear it to work.”
DaddySir says the stretched effect “makes them an easier target for the riding crop”.
To stay in a dog’s headspace, Dog says a collar is helpful.
“I have two main chain collars and several leather dog collars, plain and studded. The big chain weighs about 700g with 35mm links. The smaller chain sits under my work collar and tie and is about 200g with 25mm links.“
During summer he got heat rash and had to leave all chains off for several days. “I felt strange. Even when fully clothed, I felt more naked than when I’m wearing nothing at home.”
Dog’s favourite toys include a special dog hood and flogger, both made by Keith Porter (The Boss), a renowned rubber queen who died earlier this year. He also has a leather isolation hood which was made by San Francisco Dyke Leather Daddy, Shadow, in 1990.
“I love the time I spend in the rubber dog hood,” Dog says. “Sometimes DaddySir combines it with the isolation hood, which is very much a part of my dog attire.”
DaddySir says: “A rubber flogger is still the toy the dog fears most but asks for regularly.”
When they go on vacation they sometimes travel with a large collapsible doggie cage. “We took it to Melbourne and set it up in The Gatehouse, a fetish B&B where he stayed in the cage naked,” DaddySir recalls.
When they’re socialising, DaddySir says if anyone causes trouble “I warn them he might bite them on the ankle.” Has Dog ever done that? “Not unless I tell him to!”
When it’s time for bed, Dog sleeps at the end of a chain on a low mattress or in restraints, usually naked, next to DaddySir’s bed.
“Sometimes he sleeps in the cage in the playroom [dungeon],” DaddySir says.
So what’s so great about being a dog?
“I don’t analyse things to death,” Dog says. “As I’ve got older, I’ve found it harder to relax and stop working. As Dog, I feel most contented and at ease.”
DaddySir adds: “He tends to have two speeds – full speed or nothing. He worries about work like a dog at a bone. Then he collapses in a heap.”
So it’s dogdom instead of yoga?
“No, we do yoga too,” DaddySir says. “And he’s really good at the Downward Facing Dog pose.”
(As a submissive, Dog’s name and pronouns would usually be spelt all in lower case, but this hasn’t been done to minimise confusion.)

Visit to church

cottonward — Sun, 22 Jul 2007 03:49:21 +0000

The first time I heard X mention religion was when he discussed masturbating into a chalice, scatting on a crucifix and stuffing two communion wafers up a woman’s twat and then bonking her. He’d been presenting a talk about the Marquis de Sade at the time and showed us six thick well-thumbed Sade books he liked to read in bed while listening to blaring Wagner and Bach.
It’s three years later and now X spends his Friday evenings doing the Stations of the Cross! What happened?
Maybe he was like that all along – a regular churchgoer with all sorts of blasphemous fantasies running through his head. I haven’t dared to ask, and anyway, everyone has their little foibles…
With this in mind, I headed off to listen to him sing in a choir performing Mozart’s Requiem and to look at a bark arrangement. Turns out I’d misheard and it was a Bach arrangement.
It’s a Proddy High Anglican cult, and I was wary of being sucked into their heretical ways, having been brought up in the “one holy Catholic and apostolic Church”. Wore my scapular, said a couple of rounds of the rosary and doused myself in holy water from Lourdes, cos you Can’t Be Too Careful.
Got to the church and spent some time stuck in the bookshop area during the ticket crush and noticed that apart from Thomas Merton and a Franciscan book, it was mostly stuff written by Anglican “saints” – or whatever they call them. They even had The Gnostic Gospels! Dio mio!
Inside, I was sharing the pew with M, who tempted me into eating lollies in church (!), which I did and that must be a venial sin at least, and cos it’s Lent, it’s double demerits. On one side was X’s boyf Y who usually “serves” in the church cos he “can’t sing” and hedges his bets by wearing a necklace with symbols of all major religious faiths. On the other side was K, a parishioner who spends two hours travelling each way from Penrith cos he loves to hear sacred music.
Y pointed out the church has the Stations of the Cross (which I’d thought was usual) and that they say the Angelus and have statues of Mary. But their priests are allowed to get married!
K good-naturedly teased me: “We show Catholics the way it SHOULD be done”. Though I was outnumbered, I knew I had God on My Side and went to say: “But it’s not Pick n Mix! You can’t just do the theatrical bits,” when the Holy Spirit descended and protected me with temporary tongue paralysis.
I also have to report that choir robes are not sexy at all – they make everyone look angelic and holy and pure. Even X. Unlike priest collars which are sexy. But there weren’t any of those there.
Bach had all the good lyrics (“let Satan rage” – it always causes a frisson when Satan is mentioned in a church; “Defiance to the old dragon”, “Misery, want, torture, shame and death, shall never part me from Jesus”) and Mozart had all the good music.
Everything was sung in German or Latin, so Y helpfully pointed out where they were up to.
The music and singing were fantastic. As we were leaving, K said: “You can tell we’re the true Church, because we have the best singing.” I crossed myself and Offered It Up for the early release of Souls in Purgatory.
Got outside and wasn’t surprised that a group of X’s friends were discussing the Inquisition (Catholic, of course, 1400s-1800s). Then Y joined us and, being “wordly”, he mistakenly thought we were discussing a gay fetish dance party of the same name! Quickly trying to cover our plans for the “rehabilitation of those who had Gone Astray”, we began discussing saucy outfits and sex spaces, while Y feigned disgust. But a tip for Y who gets up to all sorts of “interesting” things in his spare time: “ “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor hour…”
Then it was off for a debriefing at Starbucks. The choir performs overseas and is going to sing in Westminster Abbey next year, but it costs $9000 each to go, so X is giving it a miss because he’s saving up for a bigger motorbike.