I’m pms-ing something fierce and am so feral. Haven’t felt this feral for quite a while. Just sayin’ that it may be why I had a melt-down last night. Not giving excuses for my behaviour, but just putting it out there. Ya’ know, like a public service announcement.
I can’t decide whether the ants in our backyard are incredibly artistic or just damn annoying. Actually, come to think of it, I’m over the moon that they are doing their activities outside the house and not inside (like they do for the other 360 days a year).
Industrious little suckers, aren’t they?
I was drive-by-texted by my mother. By way of explanation:
I got an email update from my ex the other day that included a couple of pictures of his 1 1/2 year-old son. My mum always, always asks me if I’ve heard from my ex whenever she talks to me and so I thought it would be nice for me to tell her that I’d heard from him and had received some pictures. She asked me to send her the pictures and being a dutiful daughter, I did so. A few days later she sent me the text in question:
I keep looking at that beautiful little darling methinks he could have been my grandson.
If that ain’t a drive-by-text, I dunno what is.
I really don’t know how I should feel about her text. I always thought she accepted and was happy with my life choice not to have children. Apparently not. For some reason that message upset the shit out of me and I haven’t been able to respond. I couldn’t even do a joking, “Don’t get all clucky on me!”
I can’t decide if I’m upset because of the guilt factor involved or the fact that she has revealed that I’ve disappointed her. Probably the latter. I hate disappointing people or even thinking that I’ve disappointed someone. I have a major performance complex. I’d make a horrible porn star.
I spent my Saturday in boots and with a buttplug up my ass for two hours as punishment. How has your weekend been? (Note to self: don’t let errant slaveboys buy new buttplugs for their ‘own’ ass, put them in the cupboard for ‘safe keeping’ and then switch roles. That is just never going to end well.)
I’ve been thinking a bit recently about why this slavery thing is so hard for me. I realise it’s not a new topic and I’ve been whining about this same thing for 5 or 6 years, but it puzzles me and irks the overachiever in me. Why can I generally end up being reasonably proficient at things I want to do, but I never seem to get better at slavery?
I think it’s because I don’t really want to do it.
Slavery? Maybe not so much.
I guess my original idea of slavery involved wearing chains. In my mind, chains=slavery, therefore, if I am a slave, I get chains. And chains do all sorts of things to my pink bits; I get very squelchy just thinking about them.
My very first memory of being excited by chains was when I was in the third grade, so that was when I was 8 years old. There was a curator from the local folk museum who had brought in some pieces to show the school. Amongst the old medicine bottles and photos was a pair of leg irons with a matching ball and chain from the old gaol house. I was fascinated by the leg irons and wanted to touch them and see how heavy they were.
And that’s when my love affair with all things bondage, and particularly chains, started.
While I was at school, I used to go to the library and try to find whatever books or pictures I could find that showed people locked in chains, or dungeons. Scenes in movies or tv shows showing people being captured or kidnapped were always a favourite and I’d watch them again and again.
I particularly remember You Can’t Do That On Television and loving the dungeon scenes. Most people probably remember it for Barth’s Burgers or the slime, but I remember those shiver-inducing manacles hanging from the wall and the great cell set.
I also liked the execution by firing squad scenes simply because of the barbed wire in the background and the fact that the kids were ‘tied’ to the post (when they were just standing there it wasn’t as fun…)
Just as an aside, I had a massive trip down memory lane looking at episodes of YCDTOTV on Youtube. Who knew there was a cult following and that there have been conventions?? ( I still have a special spot in my heart for Alasdair and Lisa…lol.)
My interest in all things bondagey later manifested itself in my Lego collection (police station and jail set ftw!) and in a growing scarf collection – that I actually used to use to tie myself to my bed at night. Now Google and Youtube feed my fetish when I need some visual material and there’s quite a sizeable chain collection in the house for when I need some tangible chain action.
I asked M when he first started being interested in boots. He said it was the third grade and described his school teacher’s boots in infinite detail. It seemed like a huge coincidence that we both became aware of our fetishes at around the same age. Now many, many years later, he still likes boots and I still like chains.
So I guess I can forgive myself for sucking at slavery. If it was all about the bondage, I’m sure I would get an A + on my report card.
The porn industry in Japan is loosely referred to as the AV or “adult video” industry. If you’re a porn actress, you’re know as an av jyoyuu or if you’re famous enough to be on tv and dabble in porn on the side, you’d be known as a av tarento (av talent). Book and video stores in Japan always have an adult corner where all the naughty things are kept and it’s usually cordoned off with a curtain or some sort of a partition like this:
Interestingly, there are also some places that ask women not to enter the adult corner. Perhaps it makes the boys feel uncomfortable browsing through their tentacle porn when actual women wander down the aisle.
2. 3P (sanpii)
This is what you and I would know as a threesome. For some reason, most 3P porn I’ve seen in Japan has always had one woman and two men.
I mentioned in the original ten Japanese pornish words post that pai almost always has something to do with boobs, because the word for boobs is oppai. Well, strictly speaking there are a few words for boobs including chi chi (which shouldn’t be confused with chin chin (meaning dick), kyonyuu (big boobs) and hinnyuu (little boobs).
And just to finish off the explanations, suri comes from the onomatopoeia that describes rubbing something and originally comes from the word kosuru which means to rub.
I don’t even know what paisuri this is called in English….a boob job? I figure there’s a handjob and footjob, so there has to be boobjob, right? Boobjobs seem to be a lot more popular in Japanese porn than they are anywhere else…I’m guessing because most guys when given the chance would rather stick their dick in a hole.
The origins of this Japanese word for face-fucking are quite interesting. Apparently the correct English word for thrusting your penis anywhere including between boobs, thighs or in someone’s mouth is irrumation (twenty points for you if you knew that!)
Ferachio had always been used in Japan for blowjobs, so they decided to take the familar ending ‘achio’ and add it on to the English word irrumation to create iramachio. Just for the sticklers out there, the difference of course between iramachio and ferachio depends on whether the person providing the mouth is ‘actively’ providing the job i.e. a blowjob, or whether they are just providing a hole i.e. face-fucking.
This word, of course, comes from the familiar word fellatio. Good ol’ blowjobs. I’m not sure what else to say.
Gokkun comes from the onomatopoeia for swallowing. Generally speaking, in Japanese porn, gokkun is used when there is a lot of cum. And I mean a lot.
Six nine. It’s not a sixty-nine in Japan, it’s a six nine.
If you look at the two kanji characters that make up this word, they mean ‘wheel’ and ‘rape’ a.k.a gangbang. The word reepu is thrown around a lot in porn in Japan, probably because it’s a foreign word and doesn’t have the same stigma attached to it that it does in English-speaking countries.
Generally speaking, in av, reepu just refers to an unwilling victim and from the Japanese porn I’ve seen, that’s 99.9% of them. In fact, that’s the big difference I find between “western” porn and Japanese – in Japanese porn the women are always ashamed and unwilling. They don’t appear to be having a good time and they spend a lot of the video saying, ‘No.’ In most “western” porn, the girls are encouraged to throw in a lot of, ‘Oh baby!’s and take long looks into the camera. In Japanese porn you’ll also never find an interview at the end with the girl smiling and saying she had a good time.
Sarugutsuwa is the Japanese word for gag, but they do also say gyagu as in booru gyagu (ball gag).
Saru is the word for monkey and kutsuwa is a bit (as in a horse’s bit on a bridle). There are a few theories as to how a gag became known as a sarugutsuwa, but none of them are particularly interesting, so I’ll save you the eyeball energy.
My understanding is that this word actually means ‘head’ and was originally part of the Kagoshima dialect. Over time it entered the mainstream dialect and now it refers to slapping someone on the head or cheek.
If you’ve watched comedy in Japan, you’ll see that there is a lot of slapping going on. Traditionally, in two-person stand-up manzai comedy there is the funny guy, boke and the straight guy, tsukkomi. Generally speaking, the boke will say something stupid and the tsukkomi will tell him he’s stupid and slap him on head with a hand or sometimes a fan, plastic hammer or whatever else is available.
Binta in av is face-slapping. Take it with or without a side of iramachio.
I recently went back over east to visit my family for two weeks because my sister was getting re-married. I hadn’t met the guy she was getting married to and I only found out his last name during the actual ceremony when the celebrant was doing the vows i.e. Do you John Doe take Jane Doe to be your lawfully wedded wife? So from the beginning it was an interesting experience.
I’ve often wondered whether I would ever bother getting remarried if the situation presented itself. I think there is definitely something truly magical about the first time you get married and I think every girl deserves to have her special day, but second time around? I think I would find it all very uninspiring.
In all honesty, I think my sister felt that way too. There was a definite feeling of ‘whatever’ about the finer details of the wedding and reception (even though they had obviously put a lot of thought into most things). I found it particularly telling when I saw her carefully preserved bouquet from her first marriage, sitting in its frame in the centre of her living room, while her second bouquet died quietly without any fanfare in a vase on the spare fridge near the toilet in my grandmother’s house. We saved the ribbons for her in case she wanted them, but I doubt she’ll even bother picking them up.
She and I angsted over every single detail, striving for perfection when we first got married, but neither of those marriages lasted, so are you better off actually having an ‘okay’ wedding and a much better relationship to back it up with?
The reason I was thinking about this topic was because I felt it was particularly pertinent to my slavery 2.0 (or maybe it’s 3.0 now…) Way back when – 8 years ago to be precise – I did the slavery thing for the very first time and it was all rainbows and unicorns. Everything was new and exciting and I *wanted* to experience these things for the first time. Even when it wasn’t actually rainbows and unicorns, it still felt like rainbows and unicorns because it was the first time for me to do any of that stuff that had only existed in my fantasies.
When I came to be with M, there was some familiar slavey stuff, but there was still enough new stuff mixed in to keep a fair amount of the rainbows and unicorns feeling. Now seven years later, I’m starting all over again and nothing is new, nothing is fresh, I’ve already had my cherry popped for most things and so I’m finding it hard to recapture that excitement that I once had.
Excitement will often get you over that hurdle of fear and it will also often allow you to submit to things that you would balk at if the fire in your belly wasn’t burning so brightly. Without the excitement, slavery becomes hard.
But it also becomes very honest.
You have to knuckle down and go deeper in yourself to stay focussed and submit. You also find that instead of happily skipping down the crumb trail of your own pleasure and excitement, there’s only one thing waiting at the end of the yellow brick road: acceptance of what you are.
There are no fireworks, no bunches of flowers, no flights of angels to sing you sweetly to your rest. It’s just dark, quiet and very internal.
And of course, no reboot with M is complete without many, many pairs of boots.