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Having just read this post by Axe, I’m now imagining a kind of fairy-tale scenario. You know, like when the handsome prince invites every eligible woman in the land to a big ball, in the hopes of finding one to marry? Like that, but with one femdom and every mansub on Craigslist.

Would save a lot of time.

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Meaningless labour

The powers that be are tormenting me. Having declared my LaBeouf lust, I go to look up his other movies, and what do I find?

“Holes: LaBeouf is wrongfully convicted and sent to a brutal desert detention camp where he joins the job of digging holes for some mysterious reason.”

Which sounds like it ought to be the perfect movie. Escept that a) it’s Disney and b) he was just a kid at the time.

Gah!

One day I’m going to make a bdsm movie starring this guy. You guys will invest, right? Or perhaps you have more delicious ideas for casting…?

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Busy

My god, I can’t believe I’ve only posted once so far in January. It’s just not good enough. I do apologise. Things have been a tad busy, but I hope to get back to it in February.

And I don’t have time to post now, even, so really I’m just popping in to apologise for not popping in, which is a bit rubbish, I know. Here, go and have a look at someone who does this shit much better than me – Ms Jones has a particularly fine rant up today. And pop over and vote for her on the Bloggies, too.

Of course, I realise you’ve probably all already done both of those things, but just in case.

Man cryingStill feeling gypped? Here, here’s a beautiful man crying. Not very convincingly, I realise, but what can you do, this shit is hard to find.

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As hard as I can

OK, now the post I meant to write.

When I was with my ex, I sometimes had the strongest desire to fight with him, physically, to fight with all my strength. I wanted to kick and punch and bite him, as hard as I could. I didn’t, because he didn’t like it. He’d occasionally let me bite him a little, but gently. When we kissed, I always wanted to bite his tongue. He hated that, understandably, but once or twice the urge overcame me and I did it anyway.

Because I didn’t ‘really’ want to hurt him – at that point the idea was inconceivable – I used to long for a guy who was really good at fighting, so that I could fight as hard as I wanted and not damage him – so that he could contain my aggression in a safe space.

When I was tiny, my dad and I used to have ‘rough and tumble’ sessions. I fought him as hard as I could, but of course I was tiny, I could never hurt him, so he could happily let me throw all my might against him. One of my few memories of early childhood is the day I asked him for a rough and tumble, and he told me I was too big for that now. I felt bereft. I never had a great relationship with my dad. Those sessions are the only memories I have of connecting with him at all.

I really don’t know why it never occurred to me before now that those memories might be related to my desire to beat up the men I’m attracted to. Gah. Daddy issues. How pedestrian. I’m disgusted with myself.

Is it really daddy issues? Or were those sessions not a cause, but a symptom of my love of a good scrap?

I want to be able to punch my lover. To backhand him, and see him stagger a little. To kick him, as hard as I can – but not damage him. And I want to take men by the throat, and see a little fear in their eyes. Maybe even to squeeze, just a little.

I’m only starting to appreciate that this doesn’t necessarily make me a bad person, but I’m still not sure about that. I worry that alongside the ‘benign dictator’ there is a real bully in me. I have an urge, sometimes, to play the psychotic. In U2’s Vertigo, halfway through, Bono breathes, ‘Just give me what I want and noone gets hurt’. It thrills me. The menace of a loaded gun or a sharp knife, the threat, the holding hostage. Your power. Their vulnerability.

I honestly don’t know whether I’m kinky or just fucked up and mental.

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ZOMFG – more Wolverine, baby!

That’s right – we’re going to get to  see the horrible things that were done to Wolverine.

X-Men Origins – the story of Wolverine’s past. Check out the trailer.

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I’m not dead

I’m now back from my travels and in the land of the… um… blogging.

Before I get started, dear god, what have they done to the dashboard?

That out of the way… helloo! I missed you all. I wish I could have brought back some nice footage of the men playing with fire, running it slowly over their chests and between their legs and generally being all ‘look how much pain I can take’. But I didn’t have a camera.

Big, big thanks to everyone who commented to my ‘What is bdsm?’ post. You gave me a lot to think about. In particular, I was struck that bondage was such a big thing for some of you. It’s not something that resonates with me at all. In fact I’d utterly forgotten that it was part of the bdsm equation. (What kind of rubbish wannabe dom am I?) Like Roseread, the thought of rope’s never done much for me, but I can see the appeal of chains. Maybe it’s the utter machoness of them. Maybe it’s that they require no finesse on my part. Maybe it’s just that I don’t really see the point of a completely incapacited man – I’d much rather have a mobile one. Far too much work for me if he can’t move, which seems to me to defeat the object.

I love ‘self-defensive sadistic dichotomy’ – what a handy phrase. Such a key issue.

I’m also loving BJ’s advent series. Something she said a few days ago puzzled me a little, though:

The fact is I have my most successful relationships with men who are not really any more than sideline submissive.

And here was my musing: it’s interesting to me that she categorises Jack as only sideline submissive, considering the stuff they do together, some of which sounds fairly hardcore to me. What do you lot think?

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Tired

Man with fire

Man with fire

Sorry for radio silence. I’ve been very, very busy, and am now very, very tired. But I’m also in Hawaii, which is cool. And I like the whole big-tough-men-ritually-playing-daredevil-with-fire thing. Gotta get me some of that.

Many thanks for responses to the previous post. I’ll be replying properly when my head isn’t killing me. Normal service will be resumed shortly. Right now I’m off to watch Dirty Dancing and luxuriate in Johnny’s beautiful shame and self-loathing.

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