Miss Lu[ca]: The feminist I’m [told by feminists that I’m] not:
I just do not buy into this fervent anti-porn, anti-male, anti-masculinity BS in feminist culture.
It isn’t all just an exploitive, female-hating system intent on growing men’s egos at the expense of people with vaginas.
If I like rough, bruising, control-surrendering sex, that’s my choice.
You…
Click through to read the whole thing. Concise and astute.
Playdate with Popcorn, Part Three
Before Popcorn came over, Penthouse treated me to a little sensory deprivation. Because, yes, that sort of thing is a treat to me. I’m a funny girl like that.
He secured the blindfold over my eyes, tied me down to the bed, and popped the headphones into my ears. He had recorded something rather filthy and entirely too blushy for me to go into too much detail about. But it was really hot, let me assure you.
At one point, he turned the recording off and called up Craftsmate to thank him for the blindfold and the ballgag he had made. I blushed deeply as he did, his hand trailing up my thigh as he implied over the phone that I wasn’t really in any condition to talk.
Shortly after he let me out, Popcorn confirmed that she was headed over. Honestly, the deprivation had put me in about the right headspace. I was incredibly calm and quite ready to submit.
Not to mention very, very worked up.
thighighighhigh
Original photo source. Just in case anybody’s confused.
What is with taking a perfectly lovely picture of Heart’s leg and not only changing the source but freaking making it black and white? Seriously? It’s no more artistic or authentic or anything else.
It’s like oh look at the Mona Lisa. It’s so unsophisticated in color.
Excuse me…
Well, now look at how much classier it is in black and white. Despite the artist’s initial intention, I now prefer it by the strange implication that black and white works, especially in photography, are somehow much better than color works. Even if the photographer wanted the photograph to be in color, clearly we’re just doing them and the world a favor by altering the image to be black and white.
NEVER FEAR, GUYS. TODAY IS THE DAY THAT (He)ART WAS SAVED.
“I kissed her. Kissing is more intimate than fucking. That’s why I never liked my girlfriends to go around kissing men. I’d rather they fucked them.” – Charles Bukowski, Women.
The first time she tried to bring the crop over, she used her hands.
She’s been trained a little better now.
In rides Barack Obama, protector of my vagina, my rights, and my sanity.
I can finally exhale.
Agh I’m all nervous and I am buying some Twizzlers and drinking some booze to calm my nerves because THIS ELECTION.
Playdate with Popcorn, Part Two
One of the best parts of my visit to see Penthouse was that I got to see one of my friends from Ivy University who graduated this past spring. She now works in Penthouse’s area and so I ventured off with her for a few hours before the playdate to have a drink.
Of course, I couldn’t keep my mind off of my plans for later. And, even if I only had one drink, apparently I have no sense of subtlety.
“What’s going on?” My friend finally asked, giving me a nudge. “You’ve got that little sparkle in your eye.”