Set in Pompeii during the years leading up to the eruption of Vesuvius, this full length novel follows the lives of prostitutes and politicians, gladiators and slaves, the elite an the nouveau riche. Their lives intertwine and the choices they make lead to the destruction of Pompeii.
Coming soon to Nook and Kindle.
I devised a game for this session. In this game, Dave would tie up his balls using string. I would have control over whether or not the strings tightened. His part would be to masturbate and attempt to cum. It was a race: if he could cum before I had him tighten the strings enough to castrate himself.
He wasn't keen on this game. I had to threaten him with public exposure, and he finally relented. I imagine his protests were only designed to make me threaten him, thereby arousing him.
We began and I asked him a series of questions, in order to distract him from masturbating. I asked him if he had been raped or had raped anyone. He answered no, but admitted to having rape fantasies in which his "girlfriend" dresses him in women's clothes and "Tying me down and a guy fucking me while I'm gagged and cuffed....It's hard to stay hard during this topic. Can we change it?"
I absolutely would not change it. I drew parallel's between his mother and his "girlfriend": "That's the kind of thing your mother would do: abandon you when you needed her, stand by and watch you get hurt....Do you fantasize about your mother watching you in sexual situations?"
He questioned if I was really trying to castrate him. I was only playing the game, I answered. Then added:
"In the rape scenario with your girlfriend, if your girlfriend mirrors your mother, is the raping male figure your father? Is this how you're able to feel closeness with your father---being joined through the violence inflicted by your mother?"
He begged me to change the subject and said again he was having a hard time staying hard. He asked if he could have a toy: a buttplug, small but still significant. Testing him further, I had him use Deep Heat as lube on the buttplug. He attempted to fight me on it, but gave in quickly. The exchange following is astounding:
"It's in...It's hot already...It's hurting...Please. Let me take it out?"
"You can use your safe words if you need to. Suffer the penalties of course."
And then, a long delay before his response:
"I came. So hard. I've not cum that hard in a long time. It was intense as hell."
The fear of castration, the incestuous, violent images of his mother, fantasies of forced feminization and rape, and severe rectal burning all contributed to his orgasm. One, he observes himself, which is the most intense he's had in a while.
I'm afraid that Dave cannot divorce pain, humiliation and sex. I believe this has roots in his childhood, something traumatic that happened with his mother, perhaps also abuse by his beloved father. This need for pain and suffering very likely could branch out---where hurting himself for sexual pleasure will lose it's potency and he must hurt others. Most likely little boys, replaying a scenario of violence he himself suffered in his childhood.
"Now," I reached over and took the iron. I showed it to him, held it close to his face so he could feel the heat. "Why is this going to happen?"
He made some sort of excuse about the oven cleaner. I moved the iron closer and said, "No, it's not about the oven cleaner. What is it really about?"
"I disappointed you."
I smiled and squealed. "Good boy! And what will you do in the future?"
"Everything you want, exactly how you want it."
I was so excited I laughed with joy. It was time. I let the iron steam against the side of his face. He yelped, but more from being startled than from pain.
"We'll begin with ten seconds. You can handle that easily, right?"
He nodded vigorously. I pressed the towel over his cock, and then pressed the iron on it. I started breathing faster---but no, I must calm down. I must not peak in my pleasure too soon. I was already soaking wet, but that wasn't important.
Five, six, seven, eight...
He squirmed and moaned, tensing his body and pulling on his restraints. I knew where he was: he was approaching pain, in the throes of discomfort. He was more afraid than suffering. The suffering would come later.
The first moments always took me back to my childhood when, for reasons beyond the eight year old me, I would spank the dogs of our neighbors, punishing them by locking them in closets. I was completely confused by this deep, exquisite pleasure and was helpless before it. I remember so many moments when I felt compelled, as if by an outside force, to take my pleasure in these ways.
I figured it all out eventually, after shedding the shame that coupled the confusion. I wasn't confused now. I knew exactly what I was doing.
Let me begin with the Wikipedia definition:
"Futanari is the Japanese word for hermaphroditism, which is also used in a broader sense for androgyny...Beyond Japan the term is used to describe a commonly pornographic genre of computer games, comics and animations, which includes characters that show both primary sexual characteristics. In today's language it refers almost exclusively to characters who have an overall feminine appearance."
And now an illustration:
Why delve into this subject? I took on the assignment of writing a futanari gangbang and I had very little knowledge of the subject (I'm not into anime beyond the sublime and disturbing Attack On Titan). But it moves beyond seeing drawings of chicks with dicks. It's about the more complicated meaning.
The penises are at times ample, and surprisingly at times small. The breasts always seem to be enormous and the women themselves extremely feminine. If it wasn't for the exposure of the penis, it would be impossible to predict that such a woman would have both sexes. It becomes then about the juxtaposition of both sexes, but with the rejection of masculinity. The women retain all the appeal of their femininity and all its power, while having the penetrating, aggressive power of male sexuality. It creates a kind of femininity that expresses its power through penetration, rather than the more passive power of female sexuality.
This appeals to men who wish to be dominated by women; in my instance, the male figure is gang raped, humiliated and abused (as per request). It is a BDSM dynamic, absent the dominatrix who assumes masculinity in her manner and approach, even if wearing feminine attire.
This is a form of hermaphroditism, or intersexism which is more culturally appropriate today, that our culture cannot grasp outside of rare, fetishised porn. It is a form of femininity and a reinvention of male genitalia that is refreshing.
Now, to my gang bang.
This is a graph illustrating how sexually aroused people get thinking about certain taboos. I found this on Reddit, and it appears on the subreddit /r/dataisbeautiful (clicking on the above image will take you to the imgur original, which is much easier to read). There's an enormous amount of information here to process, but there are a few things I wish to comment briefly on.
First of all, the top taboos for men: group sex, performing sex acts with a friend, and the two age gaps: having sex with someone at least ten years older and with someone who is an adolescent. Incest is up there for men, but is only half as arousing for men as adolescents. What do we glean from this? That we need to rethink how we deal with men and the taboo of sexual attraction to adolescents. That it's probably even more common of a fantasy than this graph indicates?
And for women? I think the results for women are even more interesting.
The top fantasies for women are BDSM, group sex, sex with a friend, and sex with someone older. What should be noted are the high numbers of women who also are aroused by rape and being strangled. That women, and not men, have more sexual fantasies about violence is fascinating. Twice as many women find rape as arousing as men do. Why is this? It's possible it's an exaggerated metaphor for power and masculinity, of finding release and freedom in subordination and slavery.
What surprised me is that group sex, sex with a friend, or with someone at least ten years older are considered taboo experiences. I had no idea that my life has consisted of breaking one taboo after another.
My friends have told me that I'm crazy and sometimes behave dangerously. I don't believe roleplaying more bizarre fetishes on Reddit anything dangerous. After all, the incredible anonymity of Reddit protects me. I will admit that I never think about any psychological danger to me, or to the other person I'm roleplaying with.
A few months ago, I posted a roleplay ad with the scenario of being a psychiatrist. I had over thirty messages within the first minute, from both men and women. Most messages were men who masturbated too much and wanted help. Others were men questioning their sexual orientation. One was a woman who had a penis (I went pretty far RPing with her). The most interesting for me was a man who admitted to fantasizing about raping and murdering women. I found it fascinating, not just psychologically but logistically---how would I play this out? Below is the actual text of our initial roleplay. We never were able to play again, though I was very willing. His life was busy, as was mine, and then I moved out of the country which made the time difference an insurmountable problem. I knew nothing about him accept that he had children, and one night while we were chatting, his daughter had a nightmare and he had to give her cuddles until she fell asleep.
But you're making progress. I don't think you're a terrible, bad person. I believe in you. I believe that you really don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I want you to put your hands around my throat. I know you won't hurt me because you want to be someone different.
Alright, doctor... I'll try... Your skin is so smooth, so pale. I can't help imagining bruises appearing on it. I need to touch it harder... feel it more.
You're doing very well, but you don't need to be so rough.
But I particularly love to do this to redheads, doctor... So pale, I can see the welts and bruises. I'm so hard, doctor, I'm going to unzip myself to make it easier. To make it more like what I've done before...
You're doing this too hard. You should let go of me.
It will be easier on the floor, doctor. You'll come down here, beneath me. Look at how hard it gets me? You see? You see what I'm up against? Having this soft, warm meat in my hands just makes it so difficult to stop...
I see what it's doing to you, but you need to stop. You need to let go of me right now before you do something you regret.
I already told you, meat, I don't ever regret it, I just think that I should. Maybe you'll stop telling me I need let go if I squeeze harder... Maybe I'll get more out of this with your skirt up around your waist.
No, please, no, don't, you're not like this, you're not this kind of person. At least you don't want to be. You want to be more.
No, I don't, you worthless piece of female meat masquerading as a doctor. I want to be the person I feel like when I'm doing this... powerful, using others for my pleasure.
You feel so good on the inside, doctor... particularly when you struggle and your throat bulges.
No, no, no, please stop, I can't breathe.
If you can't breathe, you can't tell me I'm wrong, you stupid piece of fuckmeat. I can't take your accusing face anymore, I need to turn you over, doctor. Your throat feels so delicate in my hands, maybe it'll help if I distract you from that by using your ass.
I struggle and grasp at your hands and cry out.
Skirt over your hip, stockings torn open for me.
It feels so good to dig my fingers into your throat, to feel your life leave you. Thank you for helping me, doctor... your ass is so tight...
(This is extremely hot...)
I'm full of terror as I gasp and struggle and realize I'm not going to escape and I've made an enormous mistake.
Do you feel how hard that is in you, doctor? That's because of how right this all feels to me. You'll never tell me I'm wrong again, you can't even speak now. You are just meat... and a tight hole.
"Please," I manage to gasp.
"Women are meat. Women are meat. Women are meat."
Stretching out your ass, feeling the life drain out of you on the floor of your office. Feeling myself cum inside you.
"This will be the last thing you feel, doctor."
His motivations are obvious: feelings of persecutions, accusations, ridicule by women. He needs to silence women as a way of finding satisfaction, a way of proving that he isn't "wrong" at all. He reduces women to meat because, very vividly to him, women are beyond meat. They are so powerful he is obsessed with reducing them to a raw physical self, empty of personality. Nothing frightens him more than women, and it's this fear that makes him lash out.
If I roleplay with someone with these fantasies, will it, could it prevent him from enacting this in real life? Is that even an issue at all? Was this man even capable of living out his fantasies (he assured me several times he hasn't hurt anyone)? I never believed so. I believe that staging his fantasies through online roleplay was a healthy form of dealing with his issues.
This isn't meant to be a confessional as I don't feel any guilt. I have no conscience to appease, no burden to alleviate.
I had a long term online roleplay relationship, with someone I met on Reddit's dirtypenpals, with a British man. We'll call him Bill. Bill was married, with a young daughter, with a normal job, driving to work every morning in traffic and being very tired when he got home.
Bill was very protective of me, as much as he could be online. He loved me, too, as much as he could online. We played out many sexual fantasies which were extremely stimulating. He had special tastes as well.
For example, he liked to fantasize about beating the shit out of me, choking me, violently fucking me until I bled. Once we even used blood as part of sex.
Once he confessed to fantasizing about killing women he saw in public, and couldn't explain why. He was also suicidal, which frightened me, and suffered from depression.
As far as fantasies went, Bill liked age play. Particularly, incestuous age play. When I called him Daddy in a text, it would instantly transform our communication. I would write my dialogue as a little girl (8-10 years old) and he would proceed to seduce me. These were the most profound fantasies that we had, and extremely moving for him. The combination of tender fatherly feelings with sexual desire satisfied him in ways he couldn't explain. In fact, I'm hard pressed to explain it myself. It was never violent, and it was filled with love.
I participated because it was moving for me as well, and it didn't feel wrong. If anything, it served as a great comfort.
He had always told me that he would never think of his own daughter in this way and I believed him. I don't talk to him anymore---this is how RP relationships go. They don't seem to last long.
I could never believe that Bill was anything monstrous. He had sexual desires he couldn't explain, and couldn't discuss with his wife or anyone else. To do so would be a kind of suicide. This is wrong. These are things men should be allowed to discuss. We must face that underage sex, and extremely underage sex, is something that, most likely, many of the men in our lives find sexually stimulating.
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I've been extraordinarily open minded about sex ever since my first year in college, when I learned women could have orgasms. (I was a late bloomer in high school.) Nothing shocks me. All of it interests me. I can never get enough of it.
All of the pics in my blog are stolen/borrowed from other websites. I consider myself not really a thief, but a pirate. Arrrrrrr!!!
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crazy, dirty bastard.
And I thought I was fucked up.