April foolishness, or three tales of sexual stupidity.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Girl talk.

The scene: Two brunette women, each in fashionable sunglasses and skintight hotpants, strolling through a custom motorcycle show.

Brunette #1: So, you know, he's kissing your ass.

Brunette #2: Huh?

Brunette #1: He thinks he'll get closer to me if he gets closer to you.

Brunette #2: Oh.

Brunette #1: He's just... so not what I'm looking for in a man. Like, he's always name-dropping, and he's all about his being a bank manager and all. Like, I laid it out to him, "This is how you come across." And he was, like, so hurt.

Brunette #2: Oh.

Brunette #1: But, Nick, you know. He's been really... working on his identity...

Brunette #2: Nick is gay?

Brunette #1: ... Is that what you heard out of that? His sexual identity?

Brunette #2: Uh...

Brunette #1: No. His identity as a person.

Brunette #2: Oh.

Brunette #1: Sometimes I really wonder about you, dude.

Brunette #2: Oh.

And Clinton didn't inhale.

Toronto Star reporters Vanessa Lu and David Bruser must have a lot of time on their hands. And, as a result, Toronto city councillors Frank Di Giorgio, Giorgio Mammoliti and Cesar Palacio must be fielding some interesting phone calls.

These gentlemen enjoyed lunch near pervert's row during an "industry facility tour" of the House of Lancaster stripclub yesterday, and its made the local news. Seems they were there to inspect "what kind of facilities they have for the girls that work in there, whether everything was clean, whether they had space to store their materials."

"I think we made constructive use of our lunchtime," Di Giorgio was quoted. "We basically came over to see what the facility was like, and everything was okay in my estimation."

But we didn't look, they said.

"Absolutely not. We just took a tour of the facility."

When asked by scandal-sniffing reporters (who by odd coincidence were just outside the club as these fellows dined) if their tour might not have been more "appropriately" conducted by a city inspector, Mammoliti defended their tittybar lunch. "We were invited to come and check the conditions. There is nothing wrong with that."

The report incurred a flurry of public commentary in local news media. In good, laid-back, Canadian fashion however, many commentators have been shrugging shoulders about the politicos' presence among the T&A. But still, isn't it interesting that they found it necessary to deny having watched the dancers? Unless they really didn't. But then, what does it say when we know at least the reporters sniffed something amiss in all this?

Either way, it demonstrates the continuing need to the view the sexual as the prurient, the wrong, the unsavoury. Or to be defensive about deriving satisfaction from the same.

Meanwhile, in Europe, Swedish politician Goeran Eurenius starred in at least fourteen adult films prior to and during his term as Haerryda city councillor. Socialist politician and Italian porn star Milly D'Abbraccio featured her ass prominently on all campaign posters during her 2008 bid for Rome city council. And as "Cicciolina," veteran porn star Ilona Staller successfuly served one term in the Italian Parliament between 1987 and 1991, and remains politically active today.

Ottimo.

Tweet.

I'm now on Twitter, so those of you libertines and sluts and perverts and other delightfully horny peeps who feel like catching your roguery fixes in RealTime, feel free to "follow me" there. Peace.

Suus vapulus puga.

Dean is a trim, eagerly kinky, early40s bisexual mystic with a penchant for good coffee, corsets, and trance drumming. Her sensual breasts boast nipples that easily come to attention, her flat tummy barely tells of her children, her kisses are hungry and devouring, and she has the cutest pert little ass. We've been casual acquaintances for years, friends in the same spiritual community (such as it is), and after she made The Pass at me, we began dating late last month.

Dean reminds me of the statues and frescoes featuring the fine women of ancient Rome. And, yes, this ancient portrait of an Egyptian noblewoman during its Roman historical period really does look like her.

Maybe it's because, like myself, she has some experience doing ritual work that sometimes elicits an ominous glamour from oneself. It's partially because of her spirit, partially because of her taste in jewellery, but a lot of it is because of her hair. Dean's short hair is almost afro-like, with tight and dark-auburn curls in what would be called a "pigeon hole" fashion thousands of years ago. She would, to my eye, lk completely at home wearing a sheer stola with gold necklaces and lapis earrings, lounging comfortably amid the sound of lyres during the orgy, wine at hand, figs and olives served by naked Egyptian slaves.

Or, perhaps even better, waiting in the sacred brothel for one proud and broad-shouldered senator in particular to come by, offer his coin to the Goddess, and take her at his casual leisure.

Or siezed by the cohort as spoils of war, and dragged to the conquering general's tent as his battle-weary guard stood drunken sentry with knowing smiles on their scarred, muddy, clean-shaven faces.

She was ravenous when we enjoyed the dilled salmon that I had prepared for our first dinner together, but twice as ravenous when we were necking on the futon. Her open-mouthed kisses on my neck and shoulders, her caresses down my back were a welcome treat. How long had she kept an eye on me? The first hints of the cleft of her ass inched its way toward my fingertips as she writhed in my arms, my hand enjoying the small of her back. I learned quickly that Dean was eager to do a lot of catching up in her world, she celebrating her divorce from a restrictive and problematic man.

How could I refuse a friend in need?

She very matter-of-factly draped herself across my lap when I tugged her from the back waistband of her black spandex pants. I already knew that Dean was into spanking, but this almost seemed too casual, and soon I discovered that my Topwork was definitely cut out for me.

She settled silently, comfortably, across my knees. Enjoying the sight of her teeny butt, I began with a series of light to moderate swats that I started to enjoy just fine, but seemed ho-hum to this so-called 'beginner.' Hrm. A few swats harder, said I to myself, should change that. Nuthin.

Now, I can enjoy giving an over-the-knee attitude adjustment just fine without being altogether concerned if my pet is relaxed and quiet. But this was one of our first dates, and I'd be damned if I'd let my badass self watch this little vixen get a smacking without so much as a fucking peep. Like, puh-leeze.

So it was with humourously annoyed determination that I reached under Miss Utterly Silent's waist to lower those pants. Firm, perky, petite assflesh was my visual reward, and now my hand began raining down for true. The parlour echoed with the lovely sound of skin to skin, smack upon smack as I delivered not my most brutal punishment, but certainly something I thought worth taking note of.

Dean's fine derriere was reddening nicely... but still not a damned sound from out of her.

Well, fuck this, I sez to myself, and stood up, laying her across the length of the futon as I reached for a hardcover book from the case nearby. No kink newbie was going to be that quiet on me, goddammit, and so I raised those four hundred hardbound pages well above my shoulder and brought it swiftly down with a loud, dull, satisfying crrummp!

"AH!" this little witch finally cried. And so I continued, crummmp after crummmp until she was wiggling satisfactorily. I stopped suddenly and opened the book.

"Part of me didn't want free," I read aloud. "Part of me wanted to sink into the golden glow of her, and be lost." I closed the book and used it again and again to swat her ass before stopping once more.

"I traced my tongue along the edge of his belly button, bit softly into the skin on either side, let my mouth work lower until I could go no farther without bumping into him, straight and firm, and perfect, pressed against his stomach. I slid my mouth over the velvet tip of him as I dropped my body to my knees."

Again I closed the book with a thud and used it once more to redden Dean's wayward ass and thighs. Yet now I was inspired.

"Hold that thought," I said with a laugh and strode to the toybox in my bedroom. I returned with my favourite leather slapper, which had not seen use since the previous winter. Dean had re-hoisted her pants and was sitting with a faint Mona Lisa smile when I reached for her ankles, tugged her feet upward and her knees at her shoulders, holding her legs high while she slouched downward on the cushion.

Holding her in position with my left, my right hand cocked the slapper far behind my back before I delivered the first of several very audible swats to Dean's rear upper thighs. Oh, she wiggled and she whimpered and she cried out now alright, and my wide-eyed grin must have been as comical as it was sadistic. Swat. Swat! Swatswat! SWAT!

SWAT!SWAT!SWAT!SWAT!

"Aw, the poor baby... what's the matter? Does it sting?"

SWAT!SWAT!SWAT!SWAT!



Dean writhed and cried out, reaching out to catch the slapper as it showered torment to her covered legs and failing miserably. My ears echoed with the sound of leather on spandex and flesh, and when I finally stopped, I felt perfectly satisfied. I stood back with a smirk on my face as she whimpered and pet her sore wee Roman lady's puga.

And the book? Laurel K. Hamilton's Seduced By Moonlight. Somewhat appropriate, no?



(*Latin: "Her beaten ass.")

Some light shopping.

One of the neat things about dating my new friend, Dean, is how she's at a juncture in her life where she's breaking barriers and opening herself up to things she's sought, desired, fantasized about for some time. She has that in common with the Schoolteacher, but unlike her, Dean doesn't have an uberconservative "real life" that would be endangered if, say, someone saw her nekkid ass on FetLife. This, with her own go-gettedness, seems to give Dean a vigour as she pursues her more prurient interests.

And I seem to be the kind of guy that such women enjoy dating. I can handle that.

Before stopping for a nibble in the Gaybourhood recently, we rubbed elbows among this city's sensual, leather elite during Northbound Leather's latest meet&greet social. I had picked up an an excellent leather shirt and Top-standard-issue officer's cap during last visit at one, and many has been the time I've smiled to myself while spotting Northbound's wares in sex shops and during fetish events while travelling in the States. Having this glorious temple to kinkdom in one's home city is a lot of fun.

Dean made a beeline for the corsets, and selected a very sexy black leather halter that framed her 36Ds sensually. Followed by a black (it's always black with Dean) waist cincher, she made happy smiles for the rest of the night.

Me, I was in nirvana. I wasn't really planning on shopping for myself... oopsie. Northbound is one of those places where you'd never expect a "bargain basement" vibe; it's simply too elegant, too upscale, too sophisticated. But between sips of wine, winks with Dean, and glances at our staffperson in the sexy PVC nurse uniform, this particular meet&greet included irresistable, almost below-wholesale opportunities to get some goodies:

o A pair of unforgiving, 5mm thick, 40mm wide, solid aluminum, bolt-secured collars later, and I was hunting for pairs of ankle and wrist restraints to match. Oh, how these will feel after I remove them from the freezer! Some forgivable scratches and pits. Standard retail? $350 Canadian.

o A 7.5cm wide, jaw-raising black leather collar with triple D-rings, perfect for affixing wrists just at the neck, also 5mm thick, and complete with padlock and keys to secure with. A little wear, as though it has been affixed to a wall display or secured on a mannequin. At least $90 CA.

o A deliciously ominous head harness featuring a studded, 25mm wide, 3cm deep open-mouth tube gag made from leather-covered aluminum. I would have been happier had the gag been wide enough to slide some cock through, but this is suitable for pouring liquids with a funnel. The leather needs some moisturizing, but nothing more than standard care would call for. Regularly $140 CA.

o And the two most unique finds of the evening, definitely from the "so inexpensive, how could you go wrong?" category: a pair of gas masks. The first is clearly from US or NATO military surplus: a black latex rubber, pig-jowled beast with goggle eyes, the sort of thing you'd expect to see your friendly neighbourhood riot police to be wearing. The second is much sleeker: a black rubber MSA full-face respirator with bold aluminum faceplate framing, probably intended for safety while working with chemicals or other caustic substances. Both masks lack filter canisters or tubing, but that's easily amended. In conservative doses with a willing partner, I imagine that a little smoke would make for a fun scene, and when I'm not being kinky, now I'm ready for a casual chat with the World Trade Organization. $70 CA each.

I'm due to review a toychest soon, so it was fun to pick up some new items to fill it with. I spent just under $150 Canadian on all of these fun and bizarre trinkets. I am a happy kinkster.

The big baby daddy in the sky.

It's true that, generally speaking, I'm not a big fan of condoms.

That doesn't mean that I don't use them, or that I deliberately wouldn't use one unless asked, or don't experiment with them to try to find one I might dislike the least, or any such irresponsible and juvenile nonsense. I'll even admit that, once in a while, the scent of lubricated condoms actually turns me on because they remind me of really hot fucks I've had with them, or just because my brain assocates scent and sex in interesting ways. Many men (and women) would probably agree to disliking them too. But, my friends, I have to tell you, my general dislike for them is nothing compared to the pope's.

It should be of no surprise to anyone that, during a recent trip to Africa (of all places), the pope recently made world headlines when he blithely stated that the spread of HIV/AIDS "can't be resolved with the distribution of condoms. On the contrary, (that) increases the problem."

Presumably for the pope, and like so many rightwing reactionary minds, the availability of condoms poses a "risk" for increased sexual activity. This has been the basic argument against providing educational and health resources worldwide, once again with the underlying context that sex is an evil that must be controlled, monitored, judged, and when 'unsuitable' in 'approved contexts,' prohibited.

In Catholic doctrine, sex belongs solely within the confines of a monogamous, matrimonial (i.e., church-approved) relationship between a male and a female partner for life. Sex and matrimony are linked, and almost synonymously, within the dogma. The "purpose" of sex, argues Catholic catechism, is to provide "fruitfulness of conjugal love" in that "by its very nature the institution of... married love is ordered to the procreation... of the offspring."

Yet Catholic women are perfectly free to apply the rhythm method ("periodic continence") to avoid pregnancy. Why? A critical reading of catechism suggests that the key reason is because it might fail.

"(These methods are) in conformity with the objective criteria of morality (and) respect the bodies of the spouses, encourage tenderness between them, and favour the education of an authentic freedom," states Catholic catechism. "In contrast, every action which, whether in anticipation of the conjugal act, or in its accomplishment, or in the development of its natural consequences, proposes, whether as an end or as a means, to render procreation impossible is intrinsically evil."

Got that? Condoms are intrinsically evil. Because they prevent babies.

But HIV/AIDS? Not intrinsically evil.

"Let all be convinced," the doctrine continues, "that human life and the duty of transmitting it are not limited by the horizons of this life only: their true evaluation and full significance can be understood only in reference to man's eternal destiny... The state may not legitmately usurp the initiative of spouses who have the primary responsibility for the procreation... of their children."

You see, God needs more babies.

Human overpopulation and the depletion of global natural resources? The resulting human encroachment into remaining wilderness and affecting the displacement, endangerment, and eventual extinction of countless other species? Nah. Not intrinsically evil.

Before becoming Benedict XVI, Joseph Ratzinger was a harsh critic to American priests who tried to argue in favour of condom use. He was (among other things) the prefect of the Congregation for Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), the arm of the Vatican's Roman Curia that oversees the global institutionalization of Catholic doctrine. Prior to a name change in 1965, the CDF was the Holy Inquisition.

Experts on the intrinsically evil.



In 1616, the Holy Inquisition declared Galileo Galilei to be a heretic because he argued that the Earth revolved around the sun. This contradicted biblical references in the Book of Psalms that state that "the earth is established and cannot be moved." For the next one hundred years, the Inquisition prevented the publication of Galileo's works, and only would later relent after extensive editing occured. It wasn't until 1939 before the Vatican eased off a little further, with pope Pius XII cautiously praising Galileo as an "audacious hero."

Would he have been nearly as "audacious" had not some ultraconservative, obscurantist institution attempted to sway him away from simple and proven fact because it affronted their mythology?

In 1990, when the Vatican was finally getting around to deciding that maybe Galileo wasn't so wrong after all, Ratzinger expressed support for the Church's 17th century condemnation of Galileo, stating that its "verdict against Galileo was rational and just" and that "the revision of this verdict can be justified only on the grounds of what is politically opportune."

For Ratzinger, the Vatican's significantly-delayed "acceptance" of fundamental, grade-school level astronomy was not a matter of proven science, but of social expediency. How then can we reasonably expect that, now as pontiff to over one billion Catholics worldwide, his office would "accept" the word of the World Health Organization and the 22 million AIDS victims throughout sub-Saharan Africa that AIDS is among the greatest blights of our time?

Like the earth revolving around the sun, that is a simple fact. But because it affronts Catholic mythology, billions of people will continue to be prevented from acquiring the means to safeguard themselves against one genuine "intrinsic evil," as millions were prevented from learning the nature of the universe for more than a century, because the tools for that end are an imagined one.

Or perhaps because to do so would merely be "politically opportune."