I love your column, it’s always a good read. But don’t ya think last week’s column was maybe a bit… bitter? I think you should be allowed to get married, Dan. If a stand-up family guy like you isn’t allowed to marry the man that he’s been with for… what, seven, eight years?… then I don’t know what this world is coming to. I get it—irresponsible heteros like me and Britney Spears are allowed to make a mockery of marriage, while committed families like yours are denied basic rights. I get it. Everyone who has read your column for the past couple of weeks gets it. But taking it out on your fans isn’t going to win anyone over.
Come on, Dan! The married, straight wannabe cocksuckers who wrote you those letters didn’t make the laws! And I, for one, think that all married, straight wannabe cocksuckers...
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...dn’t make the laws! And I, for one, think that all married, straight wannabe cocksuckers should be encouraged! I’m one of those women who loves to see a man get busy with another man. But most straight men I know, even the kinky ones, are too busy protecting their fragile, homophobic male egos to experiment.
I can’t be bothered with an acronym, so I’ll just sign my name.
First, Jennifer, you’re wrong about my relationship. I’ve been with my boyfriend for 11 years now, not 7 or 8. We met sleazy when I was 23, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. If we celebrated anniversaries, we’d be celebrating our dirty dozen in January 2007.
But you’re right about everything else—I’ve been a horrible cow. Lots of folks wrote in to scold me about my appalling conduct—how dare I take these personal attacks so personally?—and ordered me to get back to work. They don’t want to hear about gay marriage or read my rants—they want to read about kinky freaks and idiots who’ve fucked up their relationships. Giving advice is my job, one reader pointed out, so withholding it is most unprofessional.
Okay, okay, I get it. So I’m back at work, sitting in a cozy bar (Liberty up on 15th Ave—order the margarita, people, it’s lovely), sifting through a gigabyte or two of e-mail. Now before anyone lectures me about advising under the influence, please note that writing an advice column is a lot like bowling: Not only can you do it drunk, you’re probably better at it drunk. My good friend Miss Manners won’t even look at her mail until she’s ripped to the tits. And Abigail Van Buren II? Her assistant has to leave a trail of shot glasses full of Grand Marnier from her bed to her desk in order to get that crazy bitch to bang out a column.
Anyway, to the mail!
I have just begun to experiment with light S&M. As I write this, I have jute twine tied tightly around my balls and cock, and a cast-iron frying pan (quite heavy) dangling from the rim of my cock’s head, attached with twine. The head of my cock is getting a little blue-ish after 15 minutes of this fun, and I’m wondering if I’m going to pay for this pleasure later. That is, could I permanently damage the blood vessels down there and mess up my sex life?
I’ve placed an online ad looking for a dom female to teach me what there is to know and hopefully go to a party with me, tie me up, pour hot wax on me, and all that. But I’m wondering, since dom women probably don’t care if they fuck up the guys they torture, should I be concerned about permanent damage? Are injuries common in this scene?
Cock Blue Today
A frying pan hanging from twine tied around the head of your cock is a lot of things, CBT, but “light S&M” isn’t one of them. And while your enthusiasm for kink is palpable, your ignorance about the “scene” appears to be bottomless.
First things first: Stop hanging frying pans from the head of your dick. I’m not going to go all Dr. Drew on you here—lots of healthy, sane men enjoy cock-and-ball torture (CBT), because they find it crazy hot to have their junk slapped around—but you have got to knock that shit off before you permanently damage your cock. Before you engage in any more self-administered CBT, I would advise you to read Hardy Haberman’s Family Jewels: A Guide to Male Genital Play and Torment. And when you’re done with that fine book, please read—from cover to cover—Jay Wiseman’s SM 101: A Realistic Introduction. The former will improve your CBT technique, CBT, and the latter will disabuse you of the ridiculous misconceptions you hold about the BDSM scene.
Finally, and for the record: Dom women do care about the men they “torture”—any woman who thoughtlessly or intentionally “fucks up” guys isn’t going to be welcome in any organized BDSM scene. And any wannabe S&M bottom who thinks finding a dom woman is as easy as placing an ad or showing up at a play party is in for a rude awakening.
Do you ever recommend having a third in the bedroom of a M/F couple?
Quick And Simple
Dragging a third in for a night or a weekend can be a wonderful erotic adventure for a couple, QAS, or it can signify the beginning of the end. It all depends on the people involved and their particular circumstances. So do I ever recommend this? Sure. Would I recommend it in your case? Well, that depends on your circumstances, QAS, which you neglected to share.
I’m a smart, sexy, kinky girl—I’m bi; I’ve worked as a stripper and as a “domestic servant”; been involved in a long-term, live-in threesome; enacted elaborate fantasy scenarios for partners; taken it up the ass; yadda yadda yadda. GGG, right? Well, after being single and celibate (by choice) for almost seven months, I’ve come to a realization that is perhaps “freakier” than any of my past exploits: I don’t really like genitals. I would be 100 percent happy being in a relationship where hugging, cuddling, kissing, and maybe some genital-free spanking was the extent of our sex life. No penetration, no pussy licking. Surely there are others who share my, um, desire? How does one bring this up on a date? “Hi, you’re really hot—can we just make out and snuggle? Like, forever?”
Passing Up Private Parts
You remind me of a friend, PUPP, a great-looking, much-in-demand guy who was always game for anything. He did sex work, he stripped, and he made porn. The more elaborate a role-play scenario, the happier he was to be included. Needless to say, he took it up the ass, too, yadda yadda yadda. Then one day he just… stopped. No more sex work, no more stripping, no more porn. What happened? He burned out and needed to take some time off. Like you, when my friend was ready to date again he just wanted to cuddle.
Was he genital averse? No, he just wasn’t ready to jump back into the deep end of the pool.
I suspect something similar is going on with you, PUPP. You were a wild thing for a while, then you took a break. Now you’re getting your groove back—hence your desire to date at all—but you’re either not ready or don’t want to return to form. Finding someone who’s satisfied with just cuddling for the moment will allow you to take things slow.
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