The Sex-toy Olive Garden

Remember last week when the internet went crazy because a 85+ year old woman wrote a great restaurant review about the new Olive Garden that opened in North Dakota? At first, a lot of bloggers were laying on the snark, but after a few days the normal people woke up and realized “Hey, *I* go to the Olive Garden!” and came to her defense (not that she needed any, since she barely uses email). The point here is that it’s easy to snark on something that you think is behind the curve. Those of us that live on the internet tend to get news more quickly, and probably become a bit jaded.

So, here’s something that could easily become a snark target, but I would hope that it didn’t:

Covenant Spice.

For those who haven’t clicked on the link, here’s a snippet from their home page.

Welcome to Covenant Spice! We are a Christian sex toy shop and romance site for married couples, offering high quality, feature-packed products that enhance lovemaking — at unbelievably low prices. Our goal from our inception has been to offer Christian sexual aids that help foster intimacy and strengthen relationships within the bonds of a healthy marriage.

And I have to admit that when I ran across this, my first thought was “Christian sex aid? Is that like Jumbo Shrimp, or Microsoft Works?” So, I spent a few minutes exploring the site with the intention of making a bit of a joke about it. I mean, I don’t know about you, but I do most of my online adult shopping at the Stockroom, Blowfish, and Extreme Restraints; Covenantspice, in my mind, was only one step above those stupid adult shops that you see that sell jelly dildos and plastic “luv cuffs”.

But looking around for a bit showed me that the purpose of this shop isn’t to sell sex toys. Rather, it’s to help consenting partners enhance their intimacy. And isn’t that what I’ve been writing about for the last umpteen years — enhancing intimacy?

I didn’t find any chastity devices, which really is a bit ironic, but I did find a surprisingly wide array of vibrators. No dildoes or strapons, but interestingly enough they had sleeves for men (for those times when your wife isn’t available). No hand cuffs or restraints, but they have a respectable line of lubricants.

I’m not sure I understand how the toys were selected for taste and propriety. The lack of insertables for women was pointed up by the availability of several models of the Aneros prostate massager, and a number of different sleeve style toys. However, the handful that they did offer for women seemed to be the more quality, higher end toys that I see other bloggers reviewing.

The ambiance, er, I mean the site colors were light and friendly, making this the kind of website that your mom would feel comfortable with. Should you, umm, you know, need to suggest it.

And now, here’s the part where I’m going to be not snarky.

Religious folks in the West, and specifically in the US, have a difficult time reconciling sexuality with what their church seems to teach. Every day they are exposed to media images that suggest that sex is healthy, normal, and sometimes even fun. Unfortunately, they often have to view this from inside a paradigm which tells them that sexuality is a negligible, if not an actual sinful part of human nature, that is should be reserved for marriage, and that it is so sacred that one shouldn’t mess it up by involving toys, kink, or anything that makes it overly lustful – lust being a sin, and all that. Back some decades ago, many Protestant denominations loosened up and tried to remind their members that sex was a loving, sacred act to be enjoyed within the bonds of marriage. Unfortunately, many churches misread the memo, and focused on the “sacred” part, and had no idea of how to get people to understand that it’s enjoyable. This led to a generation of church goers who grew up confused as to how to remain pure, sacred, and sexual. Simply telling them that they need to lighten up isn’t going to work.

Sometimes people in the kink-friendly or sex-positive community forget that people who live a religious life have parameters within which they are obliged to live; they do not feel comfortable just picking and choosing some proscriptions and ignoring others. And since most people living religiously feel enriched by doing so, it’s not inclusive nor positive when the rest of us poke fun at them for the few, little steps that they do make.

In a way, this reminds me of the Christian Nymphos, the small group of women who are trying — within the parameters they have — to let God-fearing women know that it’s okay to be sexy and seductive for their husbands. Or of the handful of other Christian bloggers (men and women) who have surprisingly large followings (and in some cases, syndicated columns) writing about how to follow their religious principles and still have intimate, sexual lives.

North Dakota now has an Olive Garden.  So, instead of insulting the people in that out-of-the way state, let’s be happy that someplace that’s a bit off the normal trade routes is now attracting more mainstream culture. And by the same token, let’s be happy that those people who want to — who choose to — adhere to the principles of their religion can now enjoy some other aspects of mainstream culture that many of us have long taken for granted.

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And for those of you who want to avoid feeling lust in your hearts, I’m not putting up a picture of a naked woman. Instead, here’s a picture of a woman wearing clothes — a lot of them, in fact. So, no bare skin, so there’s no reason to feel lustful.

See? No skin. And she looks to be standing near a church, so this is really a very not-lust-inspiring picture.  Which you could see on Tumblr if you clicked here.

Frequency Asked Question

So, I’m skimming my blogroll, and I see an interesting post over on Kink in Exile in which she asks:

I’m reading some of the blogs linked off Keyheld, “an aggregate for blogs in which male chastity and orgasm denial are the main focus.”  It seems like a lot of these male bloggers are married, many with families, most with otherwise uncomplicated-by-the-risque lives.  My question is, how does orgasm control get into such unexpected and otherwise normal-seeming unions?

Having been immersed in the chastity culture for so long, it’s sometimes surprising for me to hear other kinksters ask about it. Even more surprising is that KiE puts the cart before the horse in her assumption:

I’m curious if these guys (and gals) filtered for “kinky” in partner selection and if not, how they managed to find a match in what I’d expect to be a niche field.

So to help her out, I think it would be great to see comments (either here or over there), especially from some of more vanilla-ish guys as to how they settled on chastity or orgasm control as a personal kink. Naturally, anyone too shy to leave a comment is welcome to email me and I can post it anonymously if you’d like.

Kink in Exile is a great blog, by the way, especially for those of you who prefer intelligent insight with your kinkiness.

And just for some motivation, I’m posting a picture of a completely stereotypical fantasy.

How young?

I like my women the way I like my coffee: strong, hot, and witty. That’s one of the reasons that I read Fern’s blog Domme Chronicles.

Her recent post “How Old?” has nothing to do with wit, though. Instead, it brings up a serious question: How do you deal with a young person with a sincere interest in BDSM? It’s already difficult enough to talk to young people about sex, because so many roadblocks are there, from religious and conservative groups who try to discourage it for moral reasons, to liberal and politically correct groups that try to discourage it because of the potential for power abuse.

But the inherent possibilities for a teen or very young adult to get sucked into a bad relationship with a jackass masquerading as a dominant may weigh – ethically speaking – on any one of us who is witness to such a situation.

Back when Usenet was a more frequented medium, I was a regular on the group soc.sexuality.general; it was a great place for adults to discuss various aspects of sexuality without (much) fear of judgment, and the group managed not to become a pickup dating site. Because of this, it had a large number of women regulars, so there was always a good mix of new and experienced people.

Once in a while, there would be a visitor who would ask questions, and who would reveal (as much as can be believed on the internet) to be considerably younger than the norm. Most of the group members would simply stop conversing with underaged teens for fear of the potential legal ramifications. And indeed, this was always a difficult decision because we’re so torn with wanting to be a good resource, but not wanting to be arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor (a legal issue here in the US).

Anyway, go visit Ferns, tell her I sent you, and then let’s have a discussion.

Are submissive men devalued?

This question has come up a few times recently; there’s some discussion at Maybe Maimed and at Delving into Deviance, and it’s been making me think about the subject; ironically because I had pretty much written such things off a while back, when I decided that the cultural paradigms that we have regarding kink are so fucked up that I can’t even bring myself to associate with any labels.

Personally, while I think that the short answer is “Yes,” the long answer is that we’re not asking the right questions because we — collectively — have no idea what we’re talking about when we use words like “dominance” and “submission” anymore.

Dishevelled Domina has been interviewing submissive men on a variety of topics (including this one), and she’s posting the results a couple of times a week. It just so happens that my own interview is up now, and I have a little bit to say on that topic.

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I don’t have much to say right now, since it’s not even 7 o’clock on a Sunday morning, so I’m just going to leave this here.

Poll Dancing

Okay readers, it’s time to help out a fellow kinkster.

Most of you know that I like to consider Edge of Vanilla not just an entertaining blog, but a resource for people in the community (for some value of community).

Angela Lewis, author of My Other Self — a book about the perfectly normal people living right next door to you who just happen to be fetishists, BDSMers, or just plain kinky — is looking to do some research for another book. She has set up several surveys on her website for people with an interest in foot fetishes, and with cuckolding. If you have a few minutes, please click on over and help a sister out.

A little about Ms. Lewis:

Angela Lewis holds a PhD in education and has worked in IT for many years as a provider of various learning programs to both the government and corporate sector. She is a qualified counsellor and has acted as IT Adviser to the Australian Counselling Association for the past 10 years, publishing extensively in the ACA’s journal on the intersection of society and technology.  While exploring and then writing about how people expressed their sexuality she found that community attitudes towards anything other than mainstream sexual practices remains deeply suspicious and judgemental. So began a 4 year project of gathering narratives and interviewing people who enjoyed a wide range of alternative sexual practices and the result is My Other Self, the stories of ordinary folk quietly leading extraordinary  private lives.

My Other Self is an intrepid anthology of the secret and sometimes bizarre sexual lives quietly practised by millions of everyday people. As these ordinary folk tell their stories it becomes obvious that the world of kinky sex is far from the exclusive domain of rock stars, movie goddesses and politicians. Angela Lewis spent four years researching a diverse range of websites, forums and online communities catering to devotees of all kinds of sexual peccadilloes. These are the stories of the people she met along the way. They live in ordinary neighbourhoods, have jobs, careers and children just like the next person, but very quietly lead far from ordinary sex lives. The result is an absorbing guide to the secret lives of those enjoying a wide range of interests from latex, leather, teeth and diapers, to spanking and hairy armpits and opens the conversation around a wide range of sexual practices in a way that is neither sensational nor confronting. The book covers an extraordinarily comprehensive inventory of fantasies and fetishes which it explains in both an informative and highly readable way.  As well as real-life stories and insights, it contains explanatory background information, links to related interests, jargon and search terms and is easy for the reader to dip in and out and move around. The author wrote for an audience just like herself, an average person with a spouse, kids and mortgage who has never set foot in a bondage dungeon but wouldn’t mind knowing what all the bits on the wall are for!

Also, she blogs about her upcoming research, and has a few insightful tidbits that you might want to peruse.

Ms. Lewis promised to let us know some of the results of the surveys, so stay tuned.

e[lust] #8

No, I don’t have an entry this time, but there’s some good reading in the links. Oh, and I like the corset shot, too.

HNT Courtesy of Blue-Eyed Vixen

Welcome to e[lust] - your source for sexual intelligence and inspirations of lust from the smartest & sexiest bloggers! Whether you’re looking for hot steamy smut, thought-provoking opinions or expert information, you’re going to find it here. Want to be included in e[lust] #9? Start with the rules, check out the schedule in the site’s sidebar and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Week’s Top Three Posts ~

This Isn’t Play. . . BDSM and Rape – The very basic principle that we hold so dear in BDSM play, “Nothing without consent” seems to stand in stark contrast to a very common form of play, “Rape Play”.

Half-Full – When I get my ass beaten, is it as much for the sensation as it is for the “Good girl…I knew you could take that for me.” that I want so badly at the close of the scene?

House Party Part 2 -His wife walked by at one point and he cryptically asked her to “do what she did to so-and-so earlier”. His wife disappeared behind me, but I felt her hands touching me and his cock as it entered me.

~ e[lust] Editress ~

Backseat Orgasms - We kissed lightly and without focus, both a sensual act and maddening at the same time. More, I needed more. In a blur I was on my knees on the seat, straddling his leg, his mouth latched onto one nipple and his fingers hunting for the key to undoing my dress pants.

~ Featured Post (Lilly’s Pick) ~

Are You Watching Me? – A plan of devious proportions begins to form. Before this is over with, I will have forced you into a corner…forced you to act…forced you to give ME what I want.

See also: Pleasurists #64 and 65 for all your sex toy review needs.

Take it, bitch!

Dev posted an interesting picture, cribbed from Male Submission Art that depicted an angel sodomizing Satan (or possibly another demon). That led to a discussion about the cultural perception that whoever is penetrated is somehow identified with submission.

The flip side of that perception, of course, is that whoever is doing the penetrating is in a position of dominance. A side issue is that nobody wants to be penetrated unless they have a reason to be submissive. Not surprisingly, these types of issues are often discussed in those groups in which people — men and women — have an interest in strap-on play, specifically, men who enjoy being penetrated by their women partners.

Take it, bi... er, cheerleader!

With that fresh in mind, I was startled by this picture from one of my new faves, Sociological Images. Apparently, fans of a Texas high school football team — that’s a high school, not college, mind you — had a small number of these shirts printed up to show their support of the home team against some long-standing rivals. Note that despite the blatant images of two stallions violating the cheerleader (because that’s what this, in context, most certainly represents), they chose not to make the shirt too offensive by abbreviating the word “Fucking” so as not to be too obvious.

We should all be proud of such sensitivity.

This picture pretty much sums up the “take it, bitch!” attitude that is so prevalent among the sexual hoi-polloi — and indeed, even among those who really should know better.

Recently I was watching some “reality” tv show (actually, Mrs. Edge was watching it while I was net surfing on the laptop), a scene with a groups of 20-something guys happened to catch my attention; they were identified as “players” and made comments about how they a) made a point to have sex with as many women as possible, and b) decided that women who gave in (i.e., decided to have sex) were no longer worthy of their respect. What kind of convoluted logic is that? More irritating is that these idiots talked about the women in terms of hunting and conquest, and not in terms of enjoyment.

But let’s take this a step farther.

Some people enjoy the subjugation aspect of BDSM play. I’ve read of women getting so wet that they actually drip their lubrication when they think about past or upcoming scenes. I’ve read about men who go weak in the knees when thinking about being forced to serve under cruel, dominating women. Some men — and some women — become sexually excited when told by their partner to “take it, bitch!” while being fucked; their turn on is their own subjugation and submission by someone more powerful.

And yes, this is fantasy, not real life. That should make it different, right?

Yeah, sure. But if you consider that fantasies play out in the context of the culture of the the partners, isn’t it possible that those of us who enjoy sexual subjugation can only do so when the concept of real subjugation is extant in society? That is, in a culture in which “Fuck you!” never had the connotation of penetrative violence, could such fantasies arise?

Orgasm Denial? Oh, Pooh!

I was one of those fortunate children who learned to read at a young age. Some relative bought me a set of books that my parents never read to me, so I was probably in first or second grade before I could tackle them on my own. Naturally, those books were lost or given away over the years, but when my daughter was born, I sought out another set.

Unfortunately, by that time the books had become a D*sneyfied franchise, and most of the books available were the heavily edited ones that, not surprisingly, lost the spirit of the originals. I did find, however, hard-cover version of A.A. Milne’s famous Winnie-the-Pooh stories, and read them to my daughter. Of course, I also read her the non-D*sneyfied versions of other stories, too: Rudyard Kipling’s Jungle Book, Lewis Carol’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, etc. Yes, I spent a good part of her young life with a raspy throat, but I know she appreciates it.

Anyway, in moving some books from one side of the house to the other — a practice that happens more often that you’d imagine, especially when Mrs. Edge gets into one of her household organizing moods — I chanced across the old Pooh volume, and couldn’t help but skim through a few stories. In the second book, The House at Pooh Corner, toward the middling end of the tales, we run across a Particularly Interesting Philosophy espoused by our favorite bear.

“Well,” said Pooh, “what I like best — ” and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a Very Good Thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called.

– AA Milne “The House at Pooh Corner”

When I read that , you could have knocked me off the chair with Eeyore’s tail. “[T]here was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were,” is exactly the point I was trying to make in my post from last week: I enjoy my orgasms, but there is a point just before the orgasm that — to me — is actually better than the release itself. That point — the slight, but noticeable plateau just before the waves of release — is the overwhelming sensation to which I’m drawn. It’s physical, mental, and emotional, and while it’s happening, I want it to keep happening.

I suspect that many men who have discovered this feel the same way. The problem is that some of them — and I have to count myself here, at least sometimes — can actually forget how pleasant the orgasm actually can be. Or sometimes the desire to push for that one more day! over-rides not merely the desire for the orgasm, but the commitment to one’s partner.

Thumper is not the only one who has reacted with dismay or disappointment at being asked to remove their device, and to have an orgasm; I’ve seen this on various web boards and forums over the past few years. Frankly, I’ve even done this myself. It was easy to fall into, especially in those early days when we just discovered the heady feelings of power exchange. Each time that Mrs. Edge suggested we go for some period of time, I would egg her on to make it a little longer. There’s a perverse pleasure in breaking a record, in going for that next “personal best.” Pumping iron, lap times at the track, shooting hoops, days without coming. Just one more for the record books.

There is hope, though. Eventually one figures out that breaking a record is no longer the important thing. Likewise, while the desire to ride the edge of arousal for weeks at a time is compelling and addictive, at some point you have to bring a little sanity back into the relationship. You eventually learn that the denial is heady — but it helps to gain some perspective by reminding yourself what you’re being denied from.

So guys? Try to remember that when your partner wants you to orgasm (and especially if she wants to participate), try to remember that it’s not a punishment, nor is she trying to derail your attempt at the Chastity Olympics. Really. It’s just that she places more emphasis on the moment just after you start eating the honey. Just go with it, okay?

Because sometimes eating the honey can be a Very Good Thing, indeed.,

Rat in a Cage

I’ve been reading Thumper, who recently had a rant major complaint whinge some strong opinions on the fact that he spent 10 days in enforced chastity, at the end of which, his wife, Belle, wanted him to have an orgasm. He wasn’t happy about that.

I know, I know — those of you not into the Orgasm Control/Denial thing are saying “What? He went a week and a half without coming, and he wanted to keep going? That’s whack, yo!” And yes, it does seem that way, until you give this some thought.

First of all, there’s the “personal best” factor involved. When you do something for a long time, you want to keep doing it, or else you feel like you’ve wasted yoru efforts not doing it well. Mrs. Edge and I have been here. You try it for a couple of weeks. Then the next time you think “Well, maybe a month or so.” The next time, after a month you’re thinking that two, or three months is reachable. You see where this is going, right? If neither of you is sane, the next thing you know you haven’t come for six, nine, maybe twelve months. And believe me, when you go for several months, the next time that you’re locked up, you often feel like you have to go just a little bit longer. This could be just one of those competitive guy things, although Mrs. Edge seems to urge me on pretty frequently.

My point is that there are different reasons for wanting to continue being denied, as paradoxical as it sounds. And let’s not forget the simple pleasure of not having pleasure.

Wait, what?

As someone in a relationship in which the both of us enjoy the power exchange of Orgasm Control, I can tell you that once you get past the point of thinking that you are missing out on your orgasms (admittedly, this takes some time to learn), you get into a stage in which you are constantly living on the edge of frustrated arousal that becomes not simply pleasant, but an almost over-whelming feeling of expectation and anticipation.

It’s 24 hours of feeling like you’re just about to unwrap a gift.

It’s the moment between seeing the rockets being lit, and seeing the huge fireworks explosion in the sky.

It’s being the in the roller coaster just three seconds before it hits the top and plummets down the track.

It’s being a child going to bed on Christmas eve.

The constant anticipation can be heady and dizzying and wonderful and very emotional, and all at the same time.

Naturally, there’s a down side.

Anybody with a couple of college psychology classes under their belt probably remembers reading about those experiments in which they had rats pressing levers to reward themselves with food after learning a new trick. Eventually, somebody figured out how to implant tiny electrodes in their brains, so pressing on the levers stimulated certain pleasure centers.

Must have saved a lot on food, because in some experiments, the rats were reported to have crawled into a corner to press the stimulant lever until they collapsed from exhaustion. As it happens, new studies have shown that the “pleasure” the rats were getting was not specifically sexual; rather, it seems to be rooted in the pleasure we get from hunting, seeking, or finding. In other words, those rats were fixated on — some might say addicted to — the thrill of the chase, or the excitement of anticipation.

This makes sense in a lot of ways. Every hear any little children say that they wish it could be the day after Christmas all year long?

Now, there’s no way that I’m going to say that orgasms are not pleasurable — mine certainly are. I’m just saying that those of us who have discovered the thrill of anticipation and the inherent pleasure of arousal need to learn how to take a step back from those levers once in a while, if only to remember how to enjoy what you have, instead of what you are hoping to get.

Coming Together: 2 – The morning after

(Mrs. Edge was on a business trip for about four weeks in July. This series details some of what transpired upon her return. Part 1 is here.)

A combination of jet lag, time zone differences, late nights, a long drive, and a good set of room-darkening window shades allowed me to get a few extra hours of sleep. You’d think that after the night before I’d have had a hard time sleeping, but orgasm denial doesn’t always work like that. I mean, no question that I was sexually aroused when I woke up, but I was also able to enjoy the feel of my wife’s body against mine in a purely sensual way. I carefully got up to pee and then snuggled back into bed, where I softly caressed and nuzzled her for a few minutes. She woke up a short while later, and made her way sleepily to the bathroom. She then crawled back into bed and we exchanged morning pleasantries.

“How did you sleep?” she asked me.

In the past, after a night of chastity sex, I’d often be awake for hours in a mixture of arousal, frustration, and some kind of perverse sense of satisfaction at having pleased her so well. But not last night.

“Oh, I was fine. I read for maybe ten minutes and then held you until I fell asleep,” I told her. “I think I held you most of the night.”

She nodded and kissed me. “Yes, it was very nice. I haven’t been held all month.”