Fridays and Feminism

I love Friday. It signals the start of the weekend, when I have more time to, um...write papers. Such an exciting life.

It also gives me the opportunity to catch up on the news. Do indulge my occasional ranting; I've been reading Feministing lately, as well as discussing feminism amongst classmates, so I'm more willing to snarl than usual.

Some highlights:

- Michelle Bruce, a councilwoman in Georgia, is being sued because she "misled" voters by identifying herself as female in the latest election. Ms. Bruce is transgendered and was born biologically male. Georgia Fuller, who finished third in the council election, is claiming that the election wasn't fair because Riverdale, the city for which the election was held, tends to vote for women.

What a prickly situation! Ms. Bruce is transgendered! Okay, so what? She apparently hasn't made a secret of it and one can determine that after four years in office the voters have figured it out, unless they're all deaf, dumb, blind and keep their heads in the sand. How has she at all deceived the voting populace? Or are we assuming that voters should vote based on the sex and/or gender of the candidates, instead of their political stances and platforms? Now I might be from New York, which tends toward being liberal, but I would rather not base my voting strategy on someone's gender identity.

- Apparently there's a "new debate" about female circumcision (often referred to as FGM - Female Genital Mutilation). I must admit that I'm a little confused by this debate; one of the debaters is an anthropologist who has undergone one type of the procedure (her paper is 33 pages long and I'm still sorting through it) and claims that the sexual dysfunctions of circumcised women cannot be attributed to the circumcision.

Like I said, I'm confused. I realize that there are cultural differences; maybe I'm being "imperialistic". Maybe I'm being an ignorant Westerner. Something about the idea of female circumcision, no matter how it is performed (even if there is a doctor and a sterile environment involved!), sends absolute chills down my spine. This anthropologist calls it "empowering"; given every description of FC/FGM I've ever read, I cannot figure how. Keeping in mind that I don't really agree with male circumcision either*, I'm having trouble relating "empowering" to "removing a small bodypart with the potential to cause enormous pleasure in a woman's body during sexual intercourse." I'm having trouble also sorting through Dr. Fuambai Ahmadu's paper; a lot of it seems to be her desperately trying to cling to her ideas of culture and female sexuality (sans clitoris), while accusing anti-FGM/FC scholars/advocates/etc of clinging to their ideas about culture and female sexuality (vulva still intact).

The paper in question can be found at http://humdev.uchicago.edu/AhmaduAintIWomanToo.pdf

Opinions are welcome.

*I'm clarifying for the hell of it: I would never refuse to date or break up with a man who has been circumcised due to said circumcision; rather, my position is such that I will not, should I ever have a son, have him circumcised.

Dream Sword Fights on Bridges

It would seem that whenever the temperature in my room changes, my dreams change. My room has been swelteringly hot since I got back from my Thanksgiving vacation; last night I finally covered the vent with printer paper (the vent on my side is already off; I share it with the person next door, so it's their heat that's busy making my room into a sauna!), and fell into a more peaceful sleep as I sighed happily and curled under my sheets and one blanket at last.

Or at least, it was intended to be more peaceful! Instead I dreamed a somewhat confusing mix of being a swordswoman or some kind of fighting cleric/priestess (I had a staff with a golden angel on one end, it was a big clue!) and fighting...the bad guys? I don't know why they were bad, but they were really easy to kill until I came across one guy who looked a lot like a cross between Orlando Bloom a la Lord of the Rings and my significant other, M. Oh, and I also had some kind of secondary weapon that looked a lot like the "Instead" menstrual cup or a diaphragm.

So here I am, fighting this guy, and we end up on a bridge; a suspension bridge. But are we fighting on the actual deck of the bridge? No of course not! Instead we are up on the cables, climbing fearlessly up to the tower from which the cables hang. Inexplicably, on the way down we decide to..hold each other instead of fight?

And then I defeated him, converted him and we all lived happily ever after, or something. What the heck?

The Tango

EdenFantasys sent me the "Tango" for my next review. The website claimed 4.5" circumference, so I expected a relatively modest vibe.

This thing is huge. I mean, huge. Bordering grotesque. I measured it and mid-shaft it measures 6" around.

This thing scares me!

First thoughts on the Tango:

- Oh. My. God. it's huge.
- It smells funny
- It's not made very well (someday I need to try some vibes/dildos made by small companies)
- Gelatin Rubber sounds like a euphemism for jelly
- Vibrations are mostly down at the base, but ahaha I can't even get the damn thing far enough in to feel them on my clit
- It's realistic, it has balls and is veiny and stuff, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand it's my first realistic vibe; on the other, disembodied orange penis = what the hell?
- Multispeed is always good.
- The top have is squishy; the bottom half is really firm
- Beneath the gelatin rubber on the bottom half is stuff that looks like styrofoam or building material.

Respect and "Getting Any"

So, I didn't post during my little sojourn for Thanksgiving, though I did (mostly) enjoy my time in Florida - it was sunny and warm every day. Of course, I came back to school last night and it's been miserable since then - it's been raining since a bit after dark Sunday night, and it's still raining now. I like the rain, but it's a little depressing at the moment.

With a very poor segue, mostly what I want to natter on about is respect and what it has to do with "getting any".

My significant other, like so many other nerds, plays World of Warcraft (WoW). Several of our mutual acquaintances play said game with him; I do not, as I don't particularly like dealing with these people in large groups - I find that while I can speak to the males in this group one-on-one and find them cordial, even friendly, but putting them in a group miraculously transforms every single one of them into completely immature assholes who get off on, frankly, being mean.

The members of this group base whether they respect a person of the male sex (there are a few gay men in the group but no one is openly transgendered) primarily, it would seem, on two things: ability to play WoW and whether said male is "getting any".

I have no idea why this group would base its respect on the latter factor, as most of the people in said group...don't. Including my significant other, mostly due to distance. Due to this distance, however, I as a person do not "count" and I "don't exist"; my SO isn't getting any because we're in a long-distance relationship, and that's a reflection upon his manhood (apparently). It is apparently unacceptable to be in a relationship in which one is not having sex.

Overstocking

Okay, so one more before the airport (ugh I hate flying so much!)

Did you know that Overstock.com sells vibrators and "massagers"? How hilarious is that? You have to search pretty hard for them: they're in the "relationships and intimacy" section.

Mind you, the vibes are hidden behind "adult image available". The women in skimpy corsets, thongs and "bunny" outfits are not. Go figure.

I wouldn't buy vibes from Overstock unless I already knew the brand and the specific vibe's properties; for instance, I might buy a Fun Factory vibrator if it was way less expensive than EF because I know that the vibrator is well-made and phthalates-free. I would NOT buy just any random vibe; apparently Overstock labels jelly/jel-ee/whatever brand variation as "plastic" at times (because I know that rabbit vibe is made of Jelly, dear Overstock, and you call it plastic!).

Anyway. I found it amusing. Since as a reviewer EF gives me free toys and lets me keep them, I'm not in desperate need of a vibrator right now.

Untitled #3

"Go take a nap," he told me a few hours ago. Maybe it was the dark circles under my eyes or the way that I was practically sleeping on his shoulder standing up that tipped him off to my exhaustion.

Little did I know that he had an ulterior motive for sending me off to bed. While I slept peacefully M was busy with his plans; plans that he put into action as soon as I woke up.

For of course M intended me to wake up and wonder why there were soft things wrapped around my wrists and ankles, why I couldn't move my arms and legs. Handcuffs, my still-tired mind realized. With my eyes finally open I spotted him at the foot of the bed, cock already hard and waiting for me. "Hmmm, have I done something bad, Master?" I asked, letting out a sleepy yawn.

"Of course not, slave," he murmured in his deep voice. I loved that voice. "I'm just going to help my little slave relax." I struggled against my bonds playfully, and in response he crawled onto the bed, slid up my body and kissed me until I was pliant and purring against his mouth. He distracted me oh-so thoroughly so that I didn't realize he was covering my eyes with a blindfold until the fabric was pressed against my eyelids.

"Wh-- Master, you know how I feel about these," I protested, but he soothed me with another kiss. "I'll be here the entire time, slave. Just be a good little slave and relax for me." Then he kissed his way down my body until he reached my pussy. I couldn't see him, couldn't tell what M would do next, and so I had to rely on touch alone.

Over and over he licked my soft, bare skin. He spelled words with his tongue and traced shapes on my skin until I was panting and moaning. He slid two fingers inside of me and pushed upwards, stroking along until he found the spot that made my breath hitch.

He sucked on my clit until I begged for more, rubbed at that place inside of me until I begged to come. "Come for me, slave," he ordered against my skin, the words slurred by his preoccupation. I gushed against his hand as I came, feverishly rocking my hips and moaning "Master!"

By the time I'd come down he'd removed the bonds from my ankles and wrists, then crawled further up the bed to wrap his arms around me. "That was beautiful," he whispered. "Don't you want to please your Master, now? I want you to suck my cock." I could tell that I was blushing just a little, and so could he, because he whispered into my ear, "suck my cock, slave. Right now!"

But that, of course, is a story for another day.



(note: I know that many authors, whether of blogs, short stories or novels use "i" instead of "I" when writing from the perspective or for the dialogue of a slave or submissive. I am unfortunately a little OCD, and all I can think about when writing something utilizing this convention is that I'm doing it wrong! Additionally, maybe I'm what's called a "fluffy BDSM"-er, however the sort of relationship I am intending to portray via this little exercise is not a 24/7 D/s relationship. So please, do forgive my OCD-ish need to use proper spelling and grammar!)

Vacation

I may or may not be posting for the next week; I'm visiting my family for Thanksgiving and it depends on whether I can get a moment where someone isn't leaning over my shoulder and saying "Ooh, what's that? Who are you talking to?"

I mean, my mother is aware, academically (hah!) that I possess a vibrator. She is not aware that I am a sex toy reviewer, nor that I have a sex blog.

It really is better to keep it that way, as upon occasion I do believe she'd rather find out that I'm having sex with random frat boys, than find out that I'm growing a collection of vibrators (albeit slowly, since the latest vibe was a total failure!).

Anyway, happy Thanksgiving to anyone reading; I'll be putting up one more "Untitled" before I run off to the airport.