love your column, it’s always a good read. But don’t ya think
last week’s column was maybe a bit . . . bitter? And the one
before that? 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 the basic rights that come with marriage.
OK, you’re bitter. 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 to your side.
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 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 a fancy acronym, so I’m just going
to sign off with my name.
Jennifer, you’re wrong about my relationship. I’ve been with
my boyfriend for 11 years now, not seven or eight. 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, Jennifer—I’ve been
a horrible cow these last two weeks. Lots of folks wrote in
to scold me about my appalling conduct—how dare I take these
personal attacks so, you know, personally and shit?—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
OK, OK, I get it. So I’m back at work, sitting in a cozy bar,
sifting through a gigabyte or two of e-mail, sipping fine
tequila. 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 keyboard 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 bondage and 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?
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?
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?”
Up Private Parts
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.