Will you be in the Hoxton area this evening? Do you have a vagina, or know someone who does? Well, tonight I’ll be doing a talk on strap-on sex at Fannying Around (the monthly muff-owners’ club I mentioned on here last month). Despite what the website blurb says, strapping on a strap-on has nothing to do with penis envy. Having marvellous lady bits and a selection of phallic accessories to wear when I choose is preferable to the limitations of an unpredictable flesh-stick. Anyway, I digress… Fanny club tonight! Be there, ladies!
Last night, on an Informed Consent forum, someone posted a link to an intriguing Guardian article about forensic psychotherapy. The piece was from 2008. It quickly and inevitably escalated into a flame war.
However, despite the furore of the thread, I think that the article does bring up some important points. We should certainly be concerned that some psychoanalysts – both three years ago, and now – still equate the seriousness of consensual BDSM, fetish and trans issues with rape and paedophilia, just as homosexuality once was.
One therapist quoted in the article speaks of “transvestites and transsexuals, and people who practise bondage and other sexual fetishes”. I respect that he appears not to be saying that these people are doing anything wrong, but that instead the problem is with what these activities may be helping each individual avoid: “They come here because the desired effect of those things, what they were intended to do, has started to break down, usually when they’re in their thirties. The papering over the cracks that those practices fulfilled is no longer working.”
Yet we all have “cracks”*, however kinky or vanilla our desires may be, and isn’t any act of pleasure or distraction just a way of “papering over” them? Nobody is without problems. A kink shouldn’t be seen as any different to any other form of pulse-quickening escapism.
If we like watching a bit of telly or participating in sport, are we told that it’s just a way of avoiding deep, unexamined issues with our parents, or the school bully, or our own sense of gender and status? Much as it’s good to question yourself on every aspect of your life now and then, it shouldn’t be at the expense of every form of fun. Just because a person enjoys consensual kink (or telly, or sport) and doesn’t spend every minute of every day dissecting and condemning it, it doesn’t make them any less sane than anyone else.
*(fnarrr, I know, but I meant the symbolic kind)
Graun article here.
IC thread here.
So, the royal wedding then… The Huffington Post’s Facebook feed announced this morning that “Jerry Seinfeld just shook up all of Britain with his live TV comments” whilst appearing on ITV’s Daybreak.
Sadly, the HuffPo seems unaware that the UK doesn’t actually care about the royal wedding, Seinfeld commentary or not. Nobody except the Daily Mail reacted to “the biggest American shakeup since Thomas Jefferson’s 1776 declaration” with anything but blank-faced, recession-hollowed apathy. I’d imagine that most people in the UK agree with Seinfeld’s analysis of the event as “a circus”. Two rich people that few of us have ever met, or have any interest in meeting, are getting married. I’m yet to meet anyone other than tourists or sellers of commemorative tat who are the least bit excited about this. The politico-economic situation in the UK is currently so dire that the press and government are trying to convey collective euphoria to the rest of the world, urging us not only to polish a turd, but to decorate it with bunting and throw a street party in its squashed, stinking, fly-blown footprint.
I can reassure our international friends, and Jerry Seinfeld, that Britain doesn’t give a fisted fuck about the royal wedding. However, this doesn’t stop news outlets spunking out wedding-themed cockfoolery to entertain the miserable hoi polloi. Yahoo has an entire site section dedicated to the royal wedding. The collection of “Awfully Photoshopped Russian Wedding Photos” here is intriguing in that so many of them seem to invoke the macrophilia fetish, as well as hints at a high-heeled crushing by the giantess bride. Is this the work of one lone macrophile photographer? Or is it a common occurrence in wedding albums, a sly, symbolic, digitally-manipulated depiction of a male being downtrodden and belittled by his spouse? The pictures here aren’t credited so we’ll probably never know.
Being a Pro-Domme is all about discretion. Even blackmail fantasies have to involve elements of consent and responsibility. People who “out” their clients to the press for whatever reason give us all a bad name. Be reassured that the majority of Dommes harbour such hatred toward the tabloid press that, when linking to today’s annoying story, I have used the cached istyosty link so that your click won’t boost the Daily Fail’s advertising revenue.
A brief look at the story would plant the assumption that a Pro-Domme filmed her client, a cosmetic surgeon, for the purposes of blackmail, then leaked the footage to the press and General Medical Council. However, we must remember that this is the Mail.
A more detailed read hints that the incident had no connection to her having been a (retired) Dominatrix. She was this man’s patient and, for reasons that nobody quite explains, he wanked himself into a frenzy in front of her several times while she was on his treatment table. He then sent her a lot of sexually explicit text messages. It is not clear whether she provoked these actions, or even consented to them. On one occasion, she covertly filmed him masturbating, apparently with the intention of using it as evidence to get him struck off from his post. Her husband instead attempted to blackmail the surgeon with this footage, and was later jailed. The woman was cleared of any charges.
This, then, is the story of a doctor who took bedside manner to an inappropriate level, a husband’s failed attempt at blackmail, and a woman whose role in the affair – whether a victim, a perpetrator, or anywhere in between – had absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the fact she used to be a Dominatrix. Yet this is the Daily Mail. The sort of sneering glance that most readers give it would convey only that we Pro-Dommes are all duplicitous, money-grabbing, fame-hungry whores. Myth perpetuated, the print presses whir and the world continues to spin as normal. Thanks a fucking lot, Mail.
In unrelated news, anti-defamation protesters are meeting outside the Mail’s Kensington headquarters RIGHT NOW. Do pop along if you fancy making yourself heard.
Remember back in February when I mentioned that there would, in a couple of months, be an international day dedicated to Cake and Cunnilingus? Well, guess what today is!
Coco de Mer is celebrating with a “masturbake-off” competition in Covent Garden this afternoon, I have a good excuse to link to this rather sexy tequila advert from last year, and – after a quick search on YouTube – I have the sudden urge to shop at Sainsburys.
Anyway, happy C&C day. Enjoy in the traditional fashion.