I thought that adult blogging was difficult with my young niece and nephew spending so many evenings at my place.  I didn’t know difficult until my teen aged nephew moved in!   Now my guy and I are practically sneaking to make love like we’re the teens, and I’ve got to be ever-so-careful about what I leave on my desktop.

That doesn’t mean that I’m giving up (in fact, buy my product)!  It does, however, mean that I’ll be playing double life girl.  (Oh, I like the sound of that.  It could be the title of a whole new blog.  Maybe I’ll become more of the live show girls after all!)  My contribution to his developing sexuality begins and ends with not ratting him out when I catch him watching softcore cable late at night.  In keeping my kink to myself, I’ll be sneaking updates at odd times.  Keep and eye out for me!

 When not settling into my strange new summer, I’ve still been plotting out that novel I intend to write.  If I lived in a vacuum, I think I could happily write this action adventure set in a world where the heroine not only survives having her tight pussy stretched and filled against her will but also learns to thrive. 

But I’ve been hearing of so many horrible real life rapes recently.  On the one hand, that doesn’t change anything–rape has always been cruel, horrible crime; I  have long since dealt with the wounds of my own past and found something erotic in the idea of a man being so overwhelmed by desire for a woman (or another man) that he takes her, bringing out her own suppressed passions.  On the other hand, reality has taken my mind away from Gown with the Wind or 9 1/2 Weeks type scenes and taken it to the boy in Florida held down by classmates and sodomized with a broom while others ignored his screams and the girl in Iraq who was raped and her whole family executed to hide the crime.  Those things are evil, not erotic.

I don’t, in any way, believe that my words would contribute to someone going out and committing such crimes, yet those thoughts hardly drive me to hot, sensual writing.  I’m leaning toward a more D/s situation, but we’ll see.

I’m not  super video game enthusiast, but I can really get into a trivia game, so I was excited to join in on the XBox 360’s beta for 1 vs. 100.  There was a question about Sasha Grey that left me wondering all night “where do I know that name from?”  Home early, I looked her up.

This award winnng young porn star is currently n the mainstream film The Girlfriend Experience directed by Steven Soderbergh of Ocean 11 fame.  More interesting than the porn-to-feature transition (hey, it’s been done before) is just how much she’s worked!  All of 21 years old, she has earned eight awards and appeared in 170 titles, not to mention music videos, modeling for Vice and other mags, and the hot (maybe a little scary) shoots you can find by clicking the pic or here. 

I think I’ve figured out just how to write that story.  Doing some plotting while watching my new favorite movie.

I was flipping through channels the other day and landed on a coming of age ceremony for a 13 year old Chinese girl.  Usually, I would have passed it up for something less educational (one of the joys of having control of the remote is being able to get away from the Discovery Channel), but the contrast between the girl being dressed up in traditional garb and the next cut of a woman with a pony tail and denim jacket inviting a man into her room made me linger.

This episode of Taboo featured, among other things, the ‘walking marriages’ of the Mosuo ethnic minority in China.  While Western society values monogamy (in theory, at least) and seems to think civilization will collapse if too many people stray too far from the one woman/one man model for marriage, the Mosuo don’t even have an equivalent word for marriage.  Once a girl has had her coming of age ceremony, she gets her own room in the household and can invite a male of her choosing to spend the night. 

It’s brilliant!  Not only has their society not suffered from their way of doing things, but it also makes them immune to certain ills of modern Western society.  This sent me off into two tangents, one of learning more about the Mosuo than a few segments of an hour long show could teach me  (no easy task since it’s pronounced “Mosow” and searches for that sent me to African dialects) and one of thinking about society’s attitudes toward sex and the mess that we can make of things by holding on to stupid beliefs… 

I had a host of stuff I wanted to post earlier.  Now, it’s 2am, and I’ve lost all train of thought in the stuff that kept me from posting in the first place.  Well, not ALL train of thought: I’m still absolutely obsessed with Ultimate Surrender.  Seriously!  So much so, that I

  joined the affiliate program.  I’ve gotta figure out a way to integrate that with the site.  Meanwhile, if you’re fascinated by it too, get it through my links, folks!

My guy is amused–in a pleased “whatever makes you soaking wet and super responsive” sort of way.  I feel lucky; kissed a lot of frogs before I found a prince not only willing to share my fantasies but understanding of the fact that some things need to be only fantasy.  You won’t find me tracking down the studio to audition for the ring, for instance, but I can lay beside my man and talk about a wrestling match. 

He’ll slip his fingers inside me and suckle on a nipple as I tell him which scenes got my pussy quivering. 

….I could go on, but I’d rather go get laid.  I’ll write again soon.

My schedule doesn’t exactly match up with my guy’s (yeah, I’ve got a guy), so I had hours of time to myself after work yesterday.  I did some character work for those naughty novels that had started me adult blogging.  That was great, but it also left me with a question: how does one write a novel length erotic story featuring rape?  I mean, either the character is brutalized the whole way through–NOT my idea of errotic–or she likes it.  Since you can’t rape the willing, that becomes a domination/submission story.  Do I change the idea to fit D/s? 

I didn’t come up with an answer, but I did find some stuff I want to share.  Truth be told, I didn’t check out a single link in this blog post, but I fell so in love with the image that you can bet I’ll be back! 

While that lovely bit of black and white photography appealed to my artistic senses, Ultimate Surrender appealed directly to my crotch.  I’m generally not interested in Femdom anything.  In my fantasies, if a woman is presenting her pussy to be licked, there’s a man with a firm grip on my hair forcing my face between her legs as he drives into me.  (Damn, I’m getting wet again while I type!) Still, I couldn’t help but imagine myself as one of the contestants, pinned on the mat.

Would my opponent push her fingers into me as we fought, humiliating me in front of the crowd?  Or would she wait until her final victory to abuse my hot, sweating body?  

Mondays are the worst, but I had a little help getting through my day from the dream I had this morning.

It had to be because of the holiday.  Like a lot of people, I spent time with my mom and wished a happy Mother’s Day to every woman with kids that I know.  I dreamt that I was one of them–a sexy mom on every hot blooded boy’s MILF list.

My husband was definitely the disciplinarian, rough on our 17 and 15 year old boys, and not too easy on me, either.  Our oldest boy, J.J. (John Junior) was messing up in school.  After his latest mediocre report card, John spent all of dinner dressing him down, telling him how we had too much money to qualify for a lot of the grants earmarked for poorer students and not enough money to get him into a decent university if he kept letting his performance slip.  It was shape up or flip burgers to pay his own way through community college.

“John,” I said gently when the kids and I were all itching to escape, “he gets it.”

“He gets it?”  John was out of his chair and in my face before I could flinch!  “You an me to go easy on the boy?  Be soft on him like you are?  You’re the only pussy in this house, Cindy.”

In all our years of marriage, John had never struck me in a way that wasn’t foreplay….little spankings that sent thrills of excitement through me.  But in that moment, I thought he was going to slap me.  Instead, a funny look settled on his face.

“We can’t wait until the boy is failing out of school and ruining his life to start teaching him responsibility.”  He grabbed my tit then, something he had never done in front of the kids.  “Your mom says you get it, J.J.  We’ll see about that.  You’re in charge of her now.”

I stared after John as he walked away.  When I looked back to my boys, they were both staring at my tits.

*          *          *

The next morning, I acted as though nothing had happened.  I got up, made breakfast, and was already cleaninging the skillets when my guys came into the kitchen.  I smiled when I felt a hand on my ass, believing that John was letting me know everything was all right between us.

“You’re body’s too hot to wear such frumpy pjs.” A John was touching my ass, but not the one I thought!  Junior’s hand caressed my rear as though he owned it.  “I know you’ve got sexier things.  Wear them from now on.”

Shocked, I looked to the table expecting my husband to say this joke had gone on long enough.  Instead, while young J.J. watched with his mouth hanging open, John gazed at us over his coffee as though there was nothing at all wrong with one of our boys molesting me.  Encouraged by his father’s acceptance, J.J. gave my ass a spank and then a squeeze before collecting his little brother to head for school.

John rose from his seat and walked over to me.  I no longer tried to anticipate his reactions, but I was still shocked when he kissed, gathered his keys, and left for work.  Had my family gone crazy?!  If so, the madness included me.  I spent the rest of the day thinking things I didn’t even want to admit to myself.

The problem with starting a new secret blog is that I’m used to the activity around my public journal.  I’m lonely here with my naughty thoughts!  So toss a girl a bone.  If you happen upon these words, say hi.  Even if you’re not going to stick around, gimme a shout out.

If you are planning to see more, tell me what you’d like.  Interested in the literary porn I intend to write, or do you prefer the sort of sex blog that tosses up with latest vid clip and little else?

I kept trying to think of ways to start this post.  I finally remembered that this is my open space.  I can say it. 

I. Like. Rape.

See?  Not so bad.  I feel a little naughty, like those are more than just words.  And there’s good reason to feel like that.  Even the cheesiest (no offense meant, but if you’re touting yourself as a publishing house, no matter how small, hire a damned copy editor) “legit” press ranks forced sex scenes with pedophilia, and those who write either for pleasure should be be blacklisted and/or burned in effigy.

The truth is, I know where they’re coming from.  Rape and pedophilia are terrible crimes, and must be punished as such in real life.

But this isn’t real life.  We’re not even talking about video, which is truly illegal in the case of children and may be questionable with adult talent getting more than they bargained for.  Stories  are a harm free journey from the imagination of the writer to the imagination of the reader.  Can they be used in the wrong ways?  Well…maybe.

See, there are a shitload of studies out there that say the availability of porn (just straight porn of no particular kink) leads to rape.  Maybe it’s true…some dick head gets tired of jerking off and wants stick his cock in someone, so charged up from the porn that he won’t take no for an answer.  OR maybe that’s as much bullshit as it sounds.  The flipside is all those other studies that say the availability of porn has either no affect on rape or even lessens it.  I doubt those studies as well.  If you have the malice within you to damage another person in such a way, you probably aren’t going to just watch a video instead.

Yet there can be a therapeutic effect to these nasty little stories.  Ever notice that some individuals seem more prone to suffering violence?  The guy that was picked on as a kid who manages to get jumped even in the safest neighborhoods…the girl who was date-raped as a teen and is singled out by the predator in the bar no matter how many drunken females are around who would make easier prey.

I was one of those girls, molested by an older relative when I was little, dating the boys who had to be fought off in a high school full of good guys in my teens, in a committed relationship with a man wore me down emotionally and raped me in my early 20s.  So I speak with some authority when I say that these habitual victims aren’t consciously “asking for it” any more than anyone else, but the subconscious is a different matter.

Subconsciously, they’re like ghosts returning to the scene of their deaths, playing it all out again in the hope that somehow, it will end differently.  It never does.  Once I got that, I was able to take control and start changing the story.  I make better choices in how I carry myself and who I trust.  Part of living a healthy, sane life is acknowledging my darker urges to be dominated to the point of the unconsensual and exploring those feelings through fantasy.

You don’t know who I am.  I could be your mother’s cousin’s niece Cindy that you met at that one family reunion.  I could be the Cindy the librarian that you think would look so hot if she’d take off those thick glasses.  Hell, maybe I’m not even a Cindy.  Maybe I’m a Jan or Marsha and playing with the theme.  More likely–and you’ll just have to take my word for it–I’m a huge fan of Dark Angel and was inspired by the Original Cindy character to make a play on my name.

Anonymous in a virtual world, I can talk about things that I would never say to my friends over coffee.  I want to talk about sex.  I want to explore things I can’t even bring up in most openly sexual places.  See, I’m a writer.  And while I’ve been typing away at paranormal romance and suspense stories that I hope to one day share with a larger audience, erotica has been booming behind my back.  And I don’t mean the erotica of yester-year that was either bad porn with a pretty cover or so high brow that it might be worthy of an English lit class, but it wasn’t likely to get anyone off.  Today’s erotica combines sensuality and hot sex scenes with real world building, character creation, and plotting. 

I wanted to dive in, to read some and then write a lot.  Only, I didn’t quite fit in.  The subject I want to explore is Not To Be Eroticized.  It’s taboo, and though I see why, I want it.  I–as an enlightened, independent woman–enjoy a certain fantasy, and I’m going to enjoy it!

Well, I will soon….