Heartbreak Nymphomania

27Jul/103

A Plea for Help

I'm in a bit of a pickle.

I don't like having to whine and beg for money, help... anything, really. Especially on a blog where people come here to enjoy my writing. However, I've gotten to the point where I'm willing to try anything, so I'm pulling out all the stops.

If you follow me on Twitter, you've probably read me whining about my current visa/job situation. To summarize: I'm a UK citizen, and have been living in the US for four years, as I was attending college here on a student visa. I just graduated from said college, and I'm currently completing an internship that lasts until the beginning of September. Basically, I need to get a "real" job by then. "Real" as in non-temporary, and requiring higher education, i.e. nothing menial like being a dishwasher or waitress, though I'd be perfectly willing to do something like that to get by, if I were allowed to. I also need to get hired by a company that's willing to shell out a couple of thousand dollars to sponsor my work visa. If I get a job, hence the visa, after October 2010, the visa doesn't go into effect until Oct 2011. Which means I'll be forced to leave the country for a year. (Although, my current visa, which is student-work-experience, is good until December, provided I'm interning or volunteering somewhere.)

I probably don't need to state that, because of all this, I'm under quite a large amount of pressure.

In many ways, I feel like the US is my home now. My friends are here. I believe that there is more freedom here, compared to my hometown (Hong Kong), for me to do what I want to do, i.e. pursue artistic expression and find communities to support me in that, to be queer and sex-positive and kinky and involved in causes that are important to me... Hell, a few weeks in New York resulted in more new acquaintances and social opportunities than months in Hong Kong. And the clincher: I'd have to be away from L for a year, and we'd only be able to see each other after months at a time, if that. Being forced to leave all the other stuff? That would be upsetting and saddening, but having to leave L would be... gut-wrenching.

So what I'm asking is for... anything you might have that would help. If you know of any resources regarding companies that often hire internationals, or any companies that are hiring in general, or any words of advice on how I could deal with this... If you need to know more: my background is in English, publications & writing, and clearly I have some knowledge of web-stuff. I'd prefer to be in Communications and to stay in the North East, but really don't care what field I end up in or what area I end up in at this point.

Thank you all so much.

Filed under: Friends & Lovers, L, Uncategorized, life, relationships 3 Comments

27Jul/100

Devour

Your body is so small and soft and smooth and milky. Like a sweet, cool dessert melting in the summer heat. I want to swallow you whole; lap and bite you all over; lick the remains off my lips, from the corner of my mouth, and slide every bit of you down my gullet.

Filed under: Domme, Erotica, L, fiction No Comments

23Jul/100

Review: Ophoria Pleasure No. 6

It looks like a trend is forming... of me getting toys that look gorgeous, but functionally just don't fit my wants.

I've known about Ophoria for a while. I've wanted to try their products because they just look so pretty. The Ophoria Pleasure No. 6, which Fascinations sent me to review, definitely doesn't disappoint on that front. I like the soft shade of pink it comes in, and the swirls along the shaft. It almost looks like... a flower. The only thing that bothered me about its appearance was the seam, which isn't terribly conspicuous, but takes away a little from the overall elegant look.

The silicone it's made out of is plush, firm, and lovely to touch. It would be a great addition to my strap-on collection, and would make a nice, standard dildo to warm up to bigger, bumpier or curvier dildos. It even has a suction-cup base, and would be great to use anally since it's on the smaller and firmer side.

Unfortunately? I didn't enjoy using it because of one tiny detail: the bump just underneath the dildo's head. It's as irritating as hell. It doesn't feel sharp or painful, just... like a small, bumpy thing poking my vaginal walls. As I put the dildo inside me, my brow furrowed in mildly discomfited befuddlement. It was enough to distract me from the feeling of the dildo as a whole.

So, honestly, that's all I have to say about that. I don't really know why the bump is there, outside of being an overall design staple in this and some of their other products, like the Beyond No. 3. Maybe the bump feels pleasurable to some people?

Anyway, it's a shame, because in all other respects, the dildo is not earth-shattering, but definitely decent. I ended up giving it to one of my friends who was curious about experimenting with strap-on play, and she was quite happy to receive it.

To sterilize the Pleasure No. 6, you can wash it with 10% bleach solution, put it in the top shelf of the dishwasher with no soap, or boil it for at least 5 minutes. Also, silicone toys are not compatible with silicone lubes.

Filed under: dildos, sex toy review No Comments

22Jul/103

Jitters

L is coming to visit tomorrow, and I'm a little scared.

I'm also immensely excited and happy, but that doesn't mean I can't be scared as well, right?

L & I have explored so many things together - in every respect, but I'm focusing on sexuality, here - and the more we explore, the more I feel as if a certain momentum is building. Also, it seems the further we go, the more likely a D/s aspect is going to come into play. L is in no way or form a submissive, and neither am I with him, not all the time. And in terms of our personalities and our relationship, there isn't a clear person who is "in charge." I quite like it that way. Nevertheless, sooner or later, in the bedroom, I'm going to end up bossing him around.

Upon pondering his visit, I find possibilities & imaginings flitting through my mind, hence a sneaking insistence that I can't not try them now that I know that I can. I mean, presumably. It's much easier to simply fantasize about things without attempting to enact them. Without becoming a reality, they're infinitely filmreel pristine perfect. Also, being the one who wants to do nasty things to the other, well, not to state the obvious, but you kind of have to be the one to come up with the plan. I have a good idea of what he likes; of what he wants me to do with him. But even so, I'm preoccupied with silly little grievances like: I don't have a cane, where can I get a cheap cane? And will that particular one work? I want to bend him over the end of the bed and tie his ankles to the bed's feet, but my bed is lame and doesn't have feet, it only has wheels located closer to the center, how will I get around that? And, most importantly: what if he ends up not liking what I'm doing? What if I fuck up?

Being a switch (and yes I've finally decided to claim switch) can be really irritating. I know that he wants me to hurt him, that he wants me to control him... That he's taken audio files of himself jacking off because he wants me to listen to him & know what thinking about me does to him. I know all this. But I still haven't quite managed to tap into that raw energy that I know is there; to tap into the desire to see him marked up and prone and open and willing to do whatever (within reason) I tell him to. My conflicting desire to have him do those things to me sometimes interferes. See: my last post. He's not the kind of person to lay there and take whatever I dish out; he reacts, he grabs me, makes me hurt. And instead of fighting, like half of me wants to, I typically give in to what the other half wants, which is... to give in.

The thought "maybe I'm not really dominant" enters my mind, even though I know that that's just silly. There is no right way to do something... as much as I know that, I'm intuitively inclined to think that there is, and that I'm not fitting it.

Even though I'm worrying about this, I know at the end of everything, I'll simply listen to me and to him and to what we want; and that even if my plans don't work out, we'll have copious amounts of rough sex anyway and it will all be fine and dandy.

Edit: As always, after writing about something that preoccupied me, I find that I'm not thinking about it as much and not even sure why I was so worried about it in the first place. Ah, the therapeutic powers of writing.

Edit again: After the initial psychological nail-biting... exercising my creativity on this is quite... satisfying and amusing. I was envisioning possible things I could do with my room, and with items I could easily get from pharmacies and hardware stores and laying out situations in my head. Weighing what action would cause what effect. It was like composing an outfit or a writing piece, only better.

Filed under: BDSM, Domme, L, angst, learning, reflections, switch 3 Comments

20Jul/102

Subspace

I have him naked, with his ass up and his face in the pillows, red stripes down his pale back where I'd scratched him, and his wrists and ankles cuffed, each wrist connected to the corresponding ankle. I'm rummaging around in my backpack for lube and a plug. When I find what I was looking for, and turn back around to face the bed, I see that he had twisted himself around so that he could look at me. The sight of him exposed, with his face terribly lustful and hungry, was, cliche as it sounds, breathtaking.

I return to my spot behind him, lubing up my fingers and pressing one into his ass, then two, using my other hand to squeeze and pinch his hip. He is making the most wonderful, breathy noises, jerking forwards slightly every time my fingers move inside him, searching, feeling the plush press of warm flesh. His entire body quakes. I am kneeling between his spread legs. One of his hands inches towards my left knee, he finds and squeezes the flesh just above the joint, squeezes every time I push in, hard enough to make me gasp. Every pump of my fingers equals one jolt of pain for me. He has told me that being penetrated is intense, so intense that he has to hold my body in his hands, take handfuls of me and crush me as hard as he can.

Eventually I lube up the plug and slide it in. I ask him to turn over, and he maneuvers himself so that he's on his back. His skin is pale and his lips, nipples and cock are a soft pink. I suck on his cock for a moment before rolling on a condom and unfastening the cuffs so that his hands are free. He doesn't miss a beat. His hands find my hips as I slide him into me, both of us gasping.

I want to fuck him quickly and erratically, like two teenagers in the back of a car whose orgasms are clumsily reached, and over way too suddenly. I want to move on his cock until I come, but he's making me go slow, tantalizingly, letting himself be very nearly engulfed before distancing himself again. He is subtle in all the ways that I am crude.

Sometimes, while I'm above him and making him feel, he does things that completely derail me and make me want to go limp. Things like: put his hand on my neck, bite me, push his fingernails into my skin. He does this now: he digs his fingers into my waist, and pulls me down hard on his cock before lifting me up again. I feel my face contorting into this strange combination of wincing, being about to cry, and desperation. It hurts. It hurts and I feel controlled and the two sensations transform into pleasure almost instantaneously. A switch goes off in my head. Just a while ago he was restrained and I was in control, but it takes only one gesture to make me need him to control me, instead.

We switch positions so that I'm on my back. He tells me to spread my legs, and I hold them open for him. He enters me again, fucking me slowly and exquisitely. I want to watch his face, but at the moment I need to keep my eyes closed. The feeling of being possessed and fucked is too much. I need to focus fully on the tactile and let it sink in.

"I want you to imagine," he says, "that there's a person standing to your right, watching us. Every so often I want you to imagine yourself catching his eye."

As he thrusts into me, I do: "I'm thinking of them touching themselves..."

"Yes; getting so turned on by watching us..."

The person watching is dark and has serious eyes. I sigh and let my head roll back, and I let myself fall into that comfortable space deep in my mind that rocks and lulls me into a calm containment. The space that he has taken me to. I want to ask him to slap me, but I'm losing my ability to speak. All I can do is feel him fuck me, feel him close his fingers around my throat. All I can do is savor.

"I want you to look at me when I come," he says.

I open my eyes. He's fucking me harder, now, more earnestly. As the urgency of his actions builds, then releases, I feel him tense as it rolls over him, his eyes wide almost in shock. His cock twitches in my cunt.

For the next ten minutes after he pulls out of me, I lay there. I want to open my eyes. I can feel him hovering over me, watching my face and the pulse in my jugular that's fluttering like a bird. I want to see him, speak to him, but all I can do is lay limply, sprawled out and utterly useless. I understand why they call it flying. I am soaring. I am no longer a person, but a rag doll, a thing that does not speak or move or take, but is used purely for the sake of my loved one's pleasure.

Filed under: BDSM, Erotica, L, anal play, bottom/object, journal, sex 2 Comments

20Jul/100

Pleasurists #87

The Old Passion by ~JogiART

Welcome to Pleasurists, a round-up of the adult product and sex toy reviews that came out in the last seven days. For updates and information follow our RSS Feed and Twitter.

Did you miss Pleasurists #86? Read it all here. Do you have a review for Pleasurists #88? Be sure to read our submission guidelines and then use our submission form and submit it before Sunday July 18th at 11:59pm PDT.

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Filed under: Uncategorized, pleasurists Continue reading

13Jul/102

Review: Lelo Bob

When I first held the Lelo Bob in my hands, I knew we were not meant to be... because the toy had been mailed to me to use as a prize in a contest I was holding. Nevertheless, I had carefully snuck a peak into the box, and I liked what I saw. Much like Lelo's ad image for Bob, looking at it made me think I was carefully unwrapping an expensive, fragrant cigar. The Bob, despite its decidedly unclassy name, was sleek and gorgeous, and I knew I'd eventually want to try it out myself. Unfortunately, when I did, I realized that Bob's functionality wasn't quite as up to par with its attractive appearance.

As with all Lelo toys, Bob is presented beautifully, and comes with a satin drawstring bag and one-year warranty. It's also made of the smooth, hard silicone that is typical of Lelo.

Due to Bob's small size, I was able to slide it in very easily, and then... I could barely feel anything. I could feel it when I clenched around it. It felt very thin and unsubstantial. I don't even use large plugs regularly; my go-to plug is the njoy pure plug medium. While a beginner couldn't take the pure plug without using something smaller for a while first, it definitely isn't size-queen material either. Bob is very comfortable, definitely, but part of the point of wearing a plug, for me, is feeling it, if only a little bit.

On the other hand, there was a part of Bob I definitely could feel, lodged between my cheeks: the handle. I've read some reviews that criticized Bob's potentially unsafe base, and though I could definitely feel it, it also didn't seem enough to prevent the entire toy potentially slipping into my ass, especially when I was sitting down. I was paranoid about the Bob being pushed in somehow, since the handle is round rather than phlanged and it seems like it could be pushed in with a little force, especially if you've used larger objects in your ass.

Bob, while usable by people of any gender, is essentially designed for people with a prostate, and I was fortunate enough to try it on L. He had it in while we 69ed, and here the handle was a plus. I very much enjoyed putting my finger through the loop and pulling it in and out slightly while I blew him. Afterwards, he told me that he could also feel the handle very obviously, and that the plug felt more noticeable in his butt (than, say, the Bootie), probably due to the plug's length. He didn't see himself wearing it for long periods of time, but definitely liked fucking me with it in.

As for cleaning: Bob is made of silicone, which is body-safe and non-porous, and can be shared after being sterilized. To sterilize the plug, you can wash it with 10% bleach solution, put it in the top shelf of the dishwasher with no soap, or boil it for at least 5 minutes. Also, silicone toys are not compatible with silicone lubes.

So, my verdict? Bob, while quite the looker, was just not for me, although I can see plenty of people, most probably anal beginners, enjoying it.

Specs:
- Type: Anal Plug
- Material: Silicone
- Length: 3.75"
- Width: 1.25"
- Colors: Bordeaux / Deep Blue
- Price @ Vibrator.com: $45

Filed under: L, anal play, anal toys, sex toy review 2 Comments

12Jul/100

Make me a Match

Wil: [sticks a $2.99 price tag from a purchased energy drink on L's shirt] There, now you're $2.99.

L: So I'm a cheap slut?

Wil: You're my cheap slut!

L: [laughs] I'd totally put that on a T-shirt and wear it. "Wilhelmina's cheap slut."

Wil: Next time we're at Zeta Mu I should just write it on your chest and you can walk around shirtless.

Later...

L: What do you want for dinner?

Wil: I'm fine with leftovers. Since I'm, you know, a classless ho and stuff.

L: [laughs] I love that you just said that. Hey, you should put that on a shirt. Then we can match!

---

...yeah, I like to think of us as a subversive version of that disgustingly cute couple you wish wasn't in your line of sight on the subway.

Filed under: L, Uncategorized, life, relationships No Comments

9Jul/104

Stop with the fucking victim-blaming already.

I'm not typically one to respond to other blog posts, or share my opinion on social issues here. However, a certain post just makes me too angry to not say anything; and, I suppose, unfortunately was written at the same time that I've been experiencing frustrations surrounding this issue in my daily life:

If your body is being groped, used, assaulted, grabbed, handled or otherwise touched without your permission [...] it would seem that you are doing something to provoke it. [...] The average person doesn’t get touched on a daily basis [...] No woman deserves to be treated like a whore, however is she happens to be wearing the uniform….

This post was written in response to Britni, who wrote about her upsetting harassment at a bar, where she was humped and almost penetrated without her consent. What shocks me is that the response I quoted is on a blog that is written by a woman, and someone who I perceived as sex-positive, until now. She didn't write the post herself, but put it on her site so I assume she agrees with the overall sentiment enough to post it, which is just as ridiculous.

I've refrained from writing about rape culture and victim-blaming because I feel that everything worth saying has already been said, and there's little that I can add to the conversation. However, it blows my mind that so many people just aren't getting it: the rapist/harasser is the cause of the rape/harassment. The victim may have made some bad decisions, but that didn't cause the violation, and it was not the victim's fault. The only person who caused it to happen, and who should be blamed for it, is the violator.

Why is that so difficult to understand?

So many of the posts and comments I've read about this issue have just been assertive re-iterations of the same message due to, it seems like, the large amount of schmucks out there who aren't willing to open up their minds and attempt to comprehend what is being communicated to them.

A few days ago, a man groped my ass in the middle of the street. I was going home, drunk and alone, from a party at 2 a.m. Thinking back, I shouldn't have gone home alone. I shouldn't have gone home that late. Those actions were contrary to my own common sense, and to what any friend or family member has ever advised me. But that hardly matters. What matters is some guy came up to ask me the time, actually blocked my path when I tried to avoid him, and then grabbed me. I didn't notice him as I walked up to him, but when he came to speak to me I realized he had been loitering in the shadows next to one of the buildings, and had probably waiting for someone to walk past him so he could do that.

On the other hand, I was wearing a sundress - nothing that showed a lot of thigh or cleavage - and still had good motor coordination so didn't look obviously drunk. I was walking the mere three blocks from the subway to my apartment. And both of my (female) roommates had assured me that the neighborhood was safe and that they had both walked back late at night with no trouble. While I've just moved to the area, they have been living here for a year already.

I think that anecdote makes it obvious that none of the details of the event really mattered. I just had the bad luck to run into that guy.

I don't even know why I'm bothering to address the claim that victims might be to blame. Really I shouldn't even be dignifying it with a response, but it's clear that some people need some kind of counter-evidence.

I was talking to the Inventor about this, and he compared victim-blaming in rapes and assaults to victim-blaming in traffic accidents. Someone died in a car crash? Shit, they must have been driving too fast. They probably weren't careful enough. That couldn't happen to me. Basically: people blame the victim because it gives them the illusion that they can somehow control what happens to them. If they're careful enough, they won't get raped or involved in a traffic accident.

Well, you know what? It's a scary thought, but it could happen to you. Nothing you do will change that. If you happen to run into a horny asshole who doesn't give a shit about other peoples' feelings and personal space, and if you don't have the ability to defend yourself, it might happen to you.*

The bottom line is that it's pointless to point at the victim and somehow try to make them to blame. They aren't. The victim did not cause the violator to violate them. The violator chose to do what they did, and they should face the consequences and take responsibility for their actions. I have no fucking idea why so many people think that they deserve pity, coddling, and enabling. They don't.

* Note: Not to say that I believe you should engage in risky behavior just for the hell of it. If you know a certain area is dangerous, it's probably a good idea to avoid it. What I'm trying to say is that even if you take precautions, that doesn't mean you're 100% immune to danger.

Further Reading:

- Rape Prevention Tips and Victim Blaming

- It is not your fault

- Stop Street Harassment

Filed under: feminism, life, reflections, the Inventor 4 Comments

25Jun/102

life update: june 10 (mini-hiatus)

[via hckyso]

Yeah, I kind of disappeared the last three weeks or so, pretty conspicuously. Quite a bit has been going on in my life lately, to say the least, and I don't think I'll be blogging or writing reviews until things have settled down a bit:

- I just officially graduated two weeks ago! As opposed to being done with classes/requirements, but not having "walked" or received my diploma. My mother came up to visit me. It was her first time in the US or at my college. It was very interesting, and went better than I anticipated. The ceremony was... bemusing, and kind of boring, but I guess I feel glad that I experienced it.

- I moved to New York City soon after. I got a paid summer internship, and luckily one of Girl's roommates was moving out, so I moved in with her. I'm hoping to find a more permanent job so I can stay in the US / in New York longer than just the summer.

- I'm currently visiting my friends the Emperor & the Wanderer in Chicago, which has been lovely but also a little charged. I hadn't seen them in more than a year.

- About a month ago, at Zeta Mu, I met a guy who I will refer to as L. I can honestly say it was like at first sight, as unlikely and cheesy as that sounds. I had abandoned hope of anything happening between us because he was kind of seeing someone else at the time, but after we had hung out quite a bit, he decided to stop seeing her in favor of trying to pursue something with me. I had toyed with the idea of trying to "compete" for him, but ditched the idea pretty quickly, and was fully ready to just be friends. I'm happy that I did that, because now I know that he chose to do what he did because he wanted to and not because I indirectly pressured him into it. It was a difficult and sucky situation for him to have to break things off with her, and I... feel a little bad for my role in that, but then again it sounded like things with them weren't going anywhere in the first place. The only catch? He's a rising senior and I just graduated. Yeah. We decided to do the long distance thing, though, which so far is working out well. We text and talk frequently and he's already coming to visit me this week.

So... a lot has happened! I haven't even had time to fully move in yet and clean up the apartment. I start my job early July. I suppose once I've moved in I'll get back to yapping about sextoys and such.

Filed under: Girl, L, life, long distance, reflections, relationships, the Emperor, the Wanderer 2 Comments

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Wilhelmina Wang. Queer, female college student with her mind lodged firmly in the gutter, seeking genderbenders, lessons in BDSM, a meaningful fuck, and a point in life.

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