One year ago today Serafinas was officially collared as my slave. We could neither afford, nor did we have the energy to put together anything big this year to celebrate, so we simply invited our very dear friend Alpha Bull down to visit. Our friendship with Alpha is by far the deepest we share in the community, which itself is significant.
But, the invitation was full of other meaning as well. In addition to giving the formal toast after the ceremony, Alpha was the man chosen to bring a blindfolded and nearly naked Serafina down the aisle to me, on a leash. To top everything else off, Alpha had given us a case of Naked Wines as a gift at the ceremony, and I’d promised to share one bottle with him on the event’s anniversary. I’ve actually held back the entire case, thinking that as long as the wine holds out, we can sample a bottle every year on the collaring’s anniversary.
For yesterday, Sinnjara supplied a very delicious Rye Whiskey she picked up just for the event, as she’d once heard me mention that Rye was one of Alpha’s favorite drinks. Serafina slaved over the stove for two consecutive days to produce a chocolate cake-pie and a Lemon Meringue pie.
Me? I supplied the cigars. Sinnjara smoked a Tatiana Mocha Caramely, Serafina had a CAO Cherry Bomb Cigarillo, while Alpha and I savored the pairing of Sinnja’s rye whiskey with a Joya De Nicaragua Antaño 1970 Lanceros.
Also, mirroring my efforts at the collaring ceremony, I grilled meat. I’ve been cooking meat over a grill since the 1970’s, I did it professionally while supporting myself as a youth. It’s not only something I’m good at, it’s a joy for me to do as well. Slow cooking meat over a grill is almost as relaxing as enjoying a fine cigar. Pairing the two together (not to mention the addition of Sinnjara’s Rye) is always an outstanding experience for me.
As we were sitting around discussing the news, the topic of rape play came up. It seems that a mutual friend of ours acted out a rape fantasy with a lady at the Kinky Kottage, so Alpha was sharing the story as he knew it.
Now let’s be honest, rape play isn’t an everyday topic here, but, truth told, it’s relatively common as a fantasy. I’ve seen estimates that more than 50% of women have, at some time in their life, fantasized about forced or coerced sex. The popularity of what I call “bodice ripping” harlequin style romance novels is proof positive that it’s not an uncommon fantasy at all. Certainly, it’s a marketable niche to say the least.
Now I do want to be clear about one thing – in talking about “rape play” – we are discussing a special niche within BDSM, the realm of consensual non-consent. Because rape and force fantasies are so common, a lot of protocols have been developed within the community to try and make fulfilling the fantasies relatively safe. Even with that said, any kind of consensual non-consent is edge play. It’s not anything to be taken lightly, or to be done without some serious forethought.
I have a very dear friend who hopes to live out rape fantasies. I’ve pledged to help her live them out, and I’m not the kind of man to give my word like that lightly. But, because she has become a dear friend, I’ve begun to wonder if my role in fulfilling her fantasy will only end up being advisory. I may have to help organize her rape, but not be able to take part myself.
Well, the proposition was put forth yesterday, that for a lady to really have her fantasy fulfilled, it’s best done by someone she doesn’t know, a stranger. It’s pretty logical if you think about it. If Dee and I feel affection and sexual attraction for each other, it’s not like anything I do with her could be realistic enough to fulfill the fantasy. Oh I could hurt her, she could struggle, we could have some really nasty rough sex that verged on the non-consensual. That sounds like a good time to me. But seriously, how can it be non-consensual if there is any kind of preexisting attraction?
That’s one key difference between real life and fantasy. In the real world, a high percentage of rapes are committed by individuals who might be considered friends, or at least part of a shared social circle. While there may be women who fantasize about being raped by a friend, that’s not how the fantasy usually works . . .
It was such a fascination conversation that we had, I’d like to continue it here. What are your thoughts on consensual non-consent and rape play?
Could it be that 50 Shades of Grey really opened the floodgates?
Has kink/BDSM really become that mainstream?
I ask those questions because there’s a new line of cigars of which I’ve just become aware.1 Not only is the brand name of the cigars intended to play to the BDSM mentality, the individual cigars are named in a provocative fashion to appeal to folks into BDSM, as well as those who may be attracted to BDSM despite not practicing any kink.
No puns intended, at least none that I know of, they really are named “Torture Sticks” . . .
Varieties in the Torture Stick line include:
So, I know there’s a long association between cigars and BDSM that goes back as far as we’ve got documented history. And, I knew BDSM has become more and more mainstream. But, really? Seriously? A brand called “Torture Sticks” with individual cigars that reference flogging and electric play?
I ran the numbers, figuring the base percentages of folks who admit to BDSM/kink in their bedroom, the percentage of cigar smokers in the US, and while the end number is enough to fill a smaller sized city, it’s hard to picture this brand being anything other than a novelty success. I’m guessing it’s more of a novelty product than anything else, but can’t say for sure until I’ve sampled some torture myself!
Does that mean I’m going “soft” and going to become a switch? Not hardly! It simply means that more cigars have been ordered. Now, if I only had humidor space to keep them all . . .
For the record, here are the individual cigar descriptions as provided by Torture Sticks:
The pleasure and pain sensors of the brain lay very close to one another. The human body is carefully tuned to distinguish the fine line between what feels pleasant and what hurts. Though sometimes the signals get crossed, and what some would describe as pain actually feels like pleasure. That’s why we present the Torture 5 Cigar Sampler Pack. Perfect for a cool fall night under the light of a full moon, this is a deviously delectable collection of five cigars boasting spooky names and a gruesome band. This sampler will have you shouting out in pain as you slowly raise the intensity higher and higher with each cigar in the pack, as they increase in flavor and boldness, from mild to full-bodied.
Below are the five sadistic options we offer in each Torture 5 Cigar Sampler Pack. Choose your punishment carefully…
I. Tickle Torture
Set the mood with something light. The Tickle Torture is a mild Churchill cigar that is sure to get the blood flowing. Beware! Even though it’s the mildest in the pack it still has quite the bite. Tickle Torture is a complex smoke that requires you enjoy slowly. Just like its namesake, it may feel good at first but it does not take long for pleasure to morph into pain…unless you’re into that.
Wrapper: Ecuadorian Sumatra
II. Light Flogging
Things start to get more intense with the Light Flogging. This Habano is a step above than the Tickle Torture. It’s darker and has a spicy flavor. This cigar is perfect for any bad little boy or girl who wants a strong and serious smoke. We can ensure the Light Flogging will teach you a lesson in smoking you’ll never forget.
III. Public Shunning
For some there’s nothing more painful and horrific than rejection and harassment from others. That’s why we present the Public Shunning. Go to your dark place with this deep brown aged Maduro cigar. It’s rich, sweet, and dark taste will help you forget your utter abandonment from society.
You’ll be spilling your darkest secrets when you try our Electroshock cigar. This is a high voltage Torpedo that gets straight to the point with a strong flavor designed to turn your hair on end. Not for novices, this option sits a step below the most severe torture we offer.
Wrapper: Ecuadorian Sumatra
How about a final branding to make you never forget the experience? Consider the last cigar, Branding as your permanent keepsake. The final in this line is a barber pole; two intertwined wrappers coming together for the fullest and boldest flavor in the pack. Just like the searing pain of a red-hot iron on human flesh, this cigar packs a one-two punch with dual wrappers that are just as twisted as we are.
Wrapper: Habano and Connecticut
About the only thing left to add is that one of my sweet darling submissives has already purchased a 5 cigar sampler of Torture Sticks for me, she picked them up within mere moments of seeing the sampler. It’s good to be an alpha male, and it’s even better to have a pair of devoted ladies who take outstanding care of me.
Eventually, I’ll be able to tell you all about the whole line of Torture Sticks, everything from Tickle Torture to Branding. But, at earliest it will be a few months down the road. Any time I purchase new cigars online I prefer to leave them in my humidor for at least a few weeks to make sure they are properly humidified, as their time travelling with the United State’s Postal Service can be less than ideal.
Take it from a sadist, when sampling torture, it’s never good to rush!
I’m going to be honest here, I’ve got nothing. It’s not so much writer’s block, as it is a difficulty changing gears.
I’ve been obsessed with cigars of late. It’s a hobby of mine since last summer, but it’s really blossomed of late. My cigar obsession really took off since I started sampling a variety of different offerings from online vendors.
I was tempted to write a review of a cigar named White Obsidian. It is about the word “white” afterall, it’s right there in the cigar’s name. I received a 5-pack of mini White Obsidian’s as a freebie with a purchase I made last summer, and I did write a “quickie” review after sampling one, my first experience with the brand. But, I just didn’t find any justification for twisting yet another Wicked Wednesday topic around to match up with my personal cigar obsession.
I considered writing a post about white privilege. Certainly, it’s on topic for the prompt, weighty, and a current part of the conversation in the worlds of sexuality and kink. But, I just don’t feel up to tackling such a truly weighty topic at the moment. Talking about white privilege requires more than a little measure of introspection, as I’m certainly the recipient of said phenomenon.
Then I thought about writing a post that black was the new white, a thought I had after being told that I’m Sinnjara’s knight in black shining armor. I’ve always had a soft spot for villains, as I’ve always found that they are more complex and believable than their opponents. In the end though, I didn’t quite have the chutzpa to do that either.
Influenced by the title of a Netflix drama, I did come up with a name for the essay – If Orange is the New Black Then Black is the New White. But, that’s about as far as it got, and I’m toiling away here at 9:28pm on Wednesday night, so it’s not like there’s any more time to complete this weeks essay for the prompt – white.
It was truly a Wicked Wednesday however, as Serafina and Sinnjara got matching school girl outfits for Halloween. The white stockings they modeled, complete with a nice black bow at the top, absolutely completed the outfits. Can you say adorable?
If Orange is the New Black Then Black is the New White
There are lots of ways that we, as humans, communicate with each other.
Obviously there is verbal communication, that’s what naturally springs to mind for most of us when we hear the word. Once we are past a couple years of age, words shape our perception of things, and the spoken word is king. As children we spent hours upon hours listening to our teachers talk, likely far more time than we spend with our noses in books. Language matters. It is, perhaps, mankind’s most important invention.
But, for the purposes of today’s topic, I’m more interested in non-verbal forms of communication. The messages we send with the clothes we wear, as well as the products we purchase and use, are perhaps even more important in signalling who we are, than anything we might say.
Why is that, I wondered?
At least that was my response when I first started to ponder this question. Why can’t we just trust people to tell us who they are?
Then I remembered the old adage – “Talk is cheap!” Some folks will say most anything to get what they want, or so it seems. With that in mind, it does pay us good heed to look deeper than just listening to an individual’s words. As they say, “Actions speak louder than words.”
Which brings me to the topic of this Wicked Wednesday post – cigars. Ha! I bet you were thinking this was a post about communication – and it is that indeed – it’s just not a normal association that most folks consciously make. But, believe it or not, every time I light a cigar I am communicating with the world.
Cigars have a particular mystique about them. Their use makes specific statements about who I am, and what I value.
Cigarettes are for the poor. While advertising men once tried to make cigarette smoking appear to be a luxurious and decadent habit, the truth is cigarettes are vulgar. Being quick and easily available, they are the tobacco of choice for whores. And even without the vulgar association cigarettes bring to mind, I have to say that I don’t need to inhale smoke deep into my lungs to appreciate it’s characteristics. Nor do I need my tobacco laced with a variety of exotic chemicals, as is the common practice by cigarette manufacturers.
Smoking a pipe, on the other hand, is a decidedly middle class hobby. At least that’s the way it’s associated in my mind. Solid middle class icons from my childhood, the father’s of 1950’s television families in particular, smoked pipes. Pipes are also the domain of intellectuals, Albert Einstein smoked a pipe, as did Sherlock Holmes (perhaps the most prominent literary intellectual from my childhood.)
Cigars, however, speak not so much of working or middle class styles and aspirations, but instead signify to me icons of power and fame (not to mention infamy.) Cigars are an expression of machismo, power, influence, wealth, and sophistication. Politicians and mobsters (aren’t they really one and the same most of the time?) smoke cigars. Real adventurers, as well as action/adventure movie heroes smoke cigars, as do several of our former Governor’s and Presidents.
Cigars are celebrated. Barack Obama’s cigarette habit is a dirty little secret, something that certainly could not be said about Richard Nixon’s enjoyment of a fine cigar. Bill Clinton’s use of a cigar might have been a dirty little secret had it not turned into national news, but that’s the exception that makes the rule. I’ve known die hard republican right wing types that asked their submissive lady to give his cigar’s that special sort of wetting, all the while hoping it just kept his fellow libertarians from mooching. I hope, at least for both his lady and Ms Lewinski’s sake, that the gentlemen in question smoked something a little fatter than a 48 ring gauge.
Even our birth rituals point to the importance of the cigar. I’m quite sure that nobody anywhere has passed a pinch of pipe tobacco around to celebrate a new baby, nor do they pass around Marlboro’s. Indeed the cigar is unique in the world of tobacco.
smoke signals – communicating my alpha-maleness w/ cigars
As a alpha type male, when I light a cigar I send a clear message, a “smoke signal” if you will. I’d like to think that I smoke because I enjoy the ritual, because I find it to be a relaxing and fascinating hobby, rather than because it might make me look powerful, or dominant, or because it’s an expression of my personal sense of masculine pride.
Yet, my conscious mind knows all of those things. My head knows the message I communicate to the world when I relax and enjoy a fine cigar. There’s no telling what my sub-conscious mind has for reasoning, in terms of my motivation to occasionally enjoy a fine cigar, as that part of our brain is protected from our consciousness by a protective fog. But I am savvy enough to know the motivations are complex, and they probably just aren’t about me.
We, as human beings, are all social creatures. That’s perhaps the most disturbing part of conditions like autism, they rob us of that basic and essential human trait, the need to communicate and interact with others.
That’s part of what makes our interactions with each other so complex and hard to decipher. And that’s what makes the simple act of lighting a cigar a form of communication.1