Tag Archives: latex

Testing the waters

So, there is a couple of different notions of waters that I’m going to write about in this post. First, water as a fetish, then waterbondage and what comes with that. Lastly,  watersports, or piss-play.

It is an odd thing, discovering a new fetish. I started this journey about two years ago, a journey into pervery, and all of this is of course a continuous exploration. Of those things that has been most remarkable has been the fact that I started to do needles, which, for anyone who knows me and knows about my knifephobia, is a huge step. Another step, not as big, but certainly interesting, was how I a couple of months ago realised that I have a fetish for water, a fetish that I have previously not pronounced as one. But here it goes: I’m a aquaphiliac/hydrophiliac. How did I come to that conclusion then? Well, I actually needed to see it in print in order to connect the dots from the past, the present and the future. A little book that described different types of fetishes, and one of them was having a fetish for water, in what ever shape or form that fetish might be experienced. For me, it is mostly about sensation. There is something in water that makes me feel alive, that makes me feel strong. The slickness of skin, turning into an element of nature, in some ways transcending a notion of flesh. Flesh that sometimes does not seem to be enough becomes perfect or bettered in water, and it becomes something that I can more easily relate to. Through moving in water, I feel myself more. That is of course something that almost all of my sexual practices bring with them, but extra clear when water is involved.

I’ve always felt good in water, swimming, taking a shower, standing in the rain (had numerous colds due to my love to stand in rain getting soaked, especially in the spring and during the summer), my head being held down under water, someone forcing me to shower in cold water, being led to believe that I am drowning. Water-boarding or getting showered by a cold stream. A cock in me, while head being held under the surface, feeling him fucking me and not caring about me shaking. And fingers clinching my nose shut, my body held by a tight rope harness, dipped and seeing him through the surface. Or being threatened, hanging close, close to the surface. Beneath or below the surface, expectation, fear and focus.

Emma Alexa snorkelling by Richard Knightly

First of all, the sensation of water, the touch of water is very erotic. The slick, flowing part makes my skin breathe in a different manner, much like the feeling of latex. I think there is a correlation there. If you ever had showered or taken a swim in latex, you know what I am talking about, and if you can but have not yet done it, do.
So this is more than BDSM, it is sensation. It is a fetish and it is a practice. And do you know what?  I miss my fetishes. At the moment I’m dealing with a body that does not feel like mine, and because of that, certain fetishes that has the nature of being associated with touch, latex is now very far away from me.
But that is another post. But anyhow, I’m missing my fetish. And curse the day that there became a divide in the BDSM and fetish world. Because I want all the crackers. Greedy fucking girl. I tortured the VISA card the other week, and looking forward to all the slick items that will drop in to my postbox.

But it was water I was talking about. My body becomes a possibility, a movement and is soaked. Like when he grabs my body and force my face into the stream of water coming from the shower head. Says nothing, just holding me there, grasping for air. I cannot distinguish the details of his face because of the stream of water, but I can feel his eyes all over my body,watching my reactions.

And in water I become a tease. Before play and when we are just suppose to shower I’m rubbing myself against more things than soap.  It is one of the few occasions when I can seduce and feel seductive. The water streaming over my body makes me powerful, even when it makes me grasp for air.

Then there is the piss. The watersports  and this is something that has to do with humiliation. As it is one of my partners main-fetishes I did not write it off immediately, although I must say I never thought about it until he spoke of it.  No harm can be done trying yes? 🙂

Golden Shower, Model: BoyKitten, Photo by Razoir

This was hard for me, on many levels. I guess I’ve been socialized into the whole thing about bodily-fluids as waste and as ‘unclean’. There is nothing ‘unclean’ about piss really, but to make my brain understand that is another story.
I crave the feeling of being stripped of control, pushed deeply down in to something that is for someone else and with me as a mere object, a frame and/or a receptacle. This is not about fetishist pleasures, that is not the objective. It touches on different elements of sexuality, such as disgust/abject, submission, fronts and layers.

Disgust/abject, because sex and piss are so far away from each other, at least where I come from. As many others, I grew up learning all about staying clean, not making a mess, about the body as a limit of what is appropriate or not. The physical body (especially female) is one of constant improvement, a degradation of all that is seen as ‘not feminine’ enough, a special hiding-place created for the bodily excretions, such as urine, feces, spit, menstrual blood, snot and pus. Which can seem a bit odd, because women are still also so often seen as the body she inhabits and nothing more. But the tampon has to be hidden, there is only joint pissing if one has to go somewhere where there is no other alternative.
And I’m kind of riding on top of all this. While often being accused of not being especially feminine (when did I even say I was!?) and not really that bothered by periods (especially after the arrival of the MoonCup, everyone should have one!) for a number of reasons, I still find pissplay hard.

Submission is hard. It is not easy, even when one could pretend it is. It is about merging and meeting desires on terms and conditions that sometimes can be ever so changing. I could say that communication is everything, but when everything has been communicated then? What is there left? When engaging in piss-play I want to trust, and I do. But my brain keep on giving me smart, little comments, worrying about things I should not, because he will take of it. He knows and does it, always. So how can I get in to a frame of mind? Is this because I feel like I loose something when it happens? Is this about the fronts and the layers?

Fronts and layers…yes.  When sitting squatting, fully dressed, being told to piss, it goes against something strong in me, something that makes me not even want to be in the same room as someone else while they are taking a piss otherwise. I want to be squeaky clean in a way, I like order. I like concepts that are tangible within that framework. In a messy room, my thinking patterns becomes fucked up, in clothes that are not what I usually would pick I feel trapped. As a creature of habit and control, I yearn to be picked in to pieces and maybe even put back again. That is where the layers come in. How many layers can one reach? Doll once spoke of people as being onions, multi layered and always changing. But when does one start to cry as the onion is dismantled? Strangely enough, I can often brush off the humiliating feeling, I am so focused on that I know that I might get clean. It is easier to rip a front than to strip layer after layer.

All of this makes me sound like I don’t like watersports. And while there is a certain truth about that I don’t fetishize the piss nor the tactility  associated with it, I yearn to be dismantled in that way that I think I can see how piss would. And that is something I never thought I would say.
And the deeper he goes, the deeper I want him to push me And in the end, I might cry. Out of relief, happiness and the feeling of safety.


Happy Thanksgiving!


Happy Thanksgiving to all of you!


Tomorrow, I am making use of the American so called Black Friday. I’m going to get two dresses from House of Bias and some other lovely thing, and since the dollar is so weak + the sale is on, it’s going to feel so good. And I’ve got something very blasphemous ordered yesterday.

Essays are getting written and I don’t really have the attention span to write on two blogs in the same time.
But I would like to make a quick note of a couple of awesome experiences that I’ve had lately:

A very rewarding beginners bondage workshop with London’s own Esinem. A full day of ropetalk and tying. What not to like is there, really?!
Esinem works from the codex of ‘tie people, not parcels’. That means that it is the interaction with the involved that matters, actions and reactions. Tying people, not on armlenghts distance but being close. Expressing, with rope, the connection. Not talking about Two Knotty Boys here, but the oh so wonderful ways of connecting with ropebunny.

So, while he was learning us single and double column ties, he also spoke and showed us ways to keep the connection, keep it flowing and basically, keeping it hot and exciting. There was tricks there that suddenly fell into place, but at some points I also fell flat. Because suddenly a two column tie seemed like the toughest thing in the whole world. I react in the same way when going to a dance class. I concentrate so much on following the steps that I can’t do it at all. Very frustrating.
But as the day went on and more and more jute fluff flew around in the room I relaxed. A very nice relaxed lunch was topped with some videos with the work of Osada Steve, but also some of the work that Esinem himself has done. Here is an example of what I see is a very strong performance, using bondage in a provocative,political, thoughtful, creative and downright amazing way.

Anyhow, after some well deserved lunch we continued, and in the end of the day there was even some time to try out a chest-harness. Before that I decided to do some self-bondage and it became something really nice that I know enjoy a lot as an activity. In regards to the chest-harness I must admit that I only came halfway, but that halfway through a chestharness gave me more thoughts and insights that any other has done so far.
I can recommend the course, and if you feel that a beginners course is a bit to simple for you ( I would love to do the same again so I could frame everything better and practice with more supervision!) there is alos a intermediate course and a advanced.  It’s well worth the money, Esinem teaches very well, give you tips, insights, inspiration, and you will have a lot of fun.

A couple of days later I attended a peer-rope workshop. Which was also amazing. A sunday afternoon and evening and the hours flew by all to fast. Watched some wonderful ropework being done, including a lot of suspensions.  Did again some self-bondage, got some help with that, then had a really beautiful spiderharness done, and in the end having very fun with an amazing woman. We hid a bit, found a calm space with dimmed lightning and sat down on the floor. And this is where I keep coming back to. Those 20, 30 minutes with her. Because afterwards, my legs were shaking, I was giggly and calm in the same time. And I had been the one doing the tying. Not since this summer I had felt anything like it (yes, I miss Korrosion) and it made me love the event even more. So, if you are in London, like rope, not busy on a sunday,  check if the peer-rope is happening and go.

Last, but certainly not least. A new shining star on the club sky in London. Crimson is so fucking good. With a focus on the playspace, they must be the most well-equiped playclub in th U.K with at least two suspensionframes, numerous crosses, spankingbenches, a spitroast, bondagebed, medical play area, etc, etc. There is always space to play, but still very easy to be social and feel relaxed. All in all, it feels like a very, very big houseparty that is so kinky that it would make your jaw drop. Next one will be in february and I will be there.



Swedish Fetish- Andrea Belluso, & Male Submission Art

Swedes are perverted. Everyone knows that, just take a look at this.

That is just an example of exactly how perverted we are. Damn us.

Earlier this year, a very special book was published, with photographs made by Andrea Belluso, who’s photographs has resulted in the book ‘Swedish Fetish’.

© Andrea Belluso

This is a book that is not, unlike many other collections, only uses professional models that maybe not have any connection to the actual physical act, nor any kind of relation to possible fetish pictured. It is not like the compliations of Marquis and such either, with women only being there for the male gaze, passive and pouting in random latexoutfit. I must admit. I hate Marquis. I hate Marquis so much I could commit a crime everytime I lay my eyes on it. I hate Marquis so much that I start to consider to become vanilla sometimes. A more male-centric, sexistic, ******** , ******* magazine is hard to find. Will come back to you readers with some samples of the idiocracies published in Marquis.

So I don’t read Marquis, I stare at Belluso’s work instead. And this is one more sample of what I see.

Andrea BellusoThere is good images out there, images that can tickle the fantasy and be artistic. Gosh, I am sounding like a elitist, with certain stanAndrea Bellusodards. I guess I am. So shoot me. I like kitsch, I like trash, I like sleaze, but I want to be challenged. To think, even if it is so just for a moment. Pictures of sex and sexual acts are so fucked (in a sterilised, normative way) that we hardly react to it, which means that at least I feel that I want something that is not like that. Something that is not just for me but also for the person pictured. Object and subject.
All hail Belluso for doing this!

Another interesting website when it comes to images, is Male Submission Art. Many of the pictures are steaming hot, with men that are awesomely beautiful, and pictures that do not focus on the dominant woman, instead we have our eyes fixed on the man. You can at all times contribute to this amazing site as well!


Male Submission Art

Swedish Fetish by Andrea Belluso


Skin Two Rubber Ball


Last time I placed my well dressed foot at SE1, was at Torture Gardens Birthday Ball. A packed event, with great layout, cool acts, great feeling and heaving with amazingly dressed kinksters

Sadly, this is not the same when I enter SE1 this time. Or well, the amazingly dressed kinksters are still there..

The layout is well thought of, but leaves many empty spaces of “nothing” especially since it was so few people showing up. Hearing a lot about the Skin Two Rubber Ball, as being one of the highlights of the kinky calendar in London, I was a bit disappointed. But in the same time, it was easy to move around,easy to see faces and really buzzing with different languages. A big contingent from Sweden was there, partying hard and playing all weekend. Also heard german, french, spanish, and of course American.

It was an effective entrance, queuing not too bad, and fast cloakroom. Always thumbs of for that. Well inside, there was a Jazz Lounge of some sorts, several bars, a room dedicated to the runway with loads of shows, a big dancefloor, a couples room (which I missed) and a fully equipped dungeon which I had the opportunity to try out. The set up of the dungeon was a bit different with a small fence around, which prevented people coming and sitting on the dungeon-furniture, and also made it less crammed. Dungeon-monitors was on their toes, not interfering if it was not necessary, but still very aware and very approachable.

The furniture itself was brilliant. Well built, easy to manoeuvre (and if there was any questions, a DM was happy to help) and many times innovative.
I took a safe shot, the S:t Andrews cross. Spanking benches and suspensionthingybobs can wait until I know how to use them properly.
The scene me and A had during that evening and the evening before can be read about in this and this post.

It so happened that I for one of the first time actually saw the shows, and several of them . When going to bigger parties in London, like Torture Garden, there almost everytime fashion shows and other entertainment, but being me often makes me miss these. Getting stuck (figuratively and literally speaking) in the dungeon or on the dancefloor happens every once in a while.

Not this time. Unfortunately. I have seen a couple of different and really good burlesque-performances, which always seem to tickle that part of me that do love to create femininity that’s a bit more than the heterosexistic bullshit that creeps up every once in a while. Roxy Velvet is a brilliant example on a performer who creates her own stage and is very well aware of every move she makes and what kind of images she create.

Photograph©Gothic Image. Design©Pretty Pervy

Photograph©Gothic Image. Design©Pretty Pervy

Not counting an opera-singer, Pretty Pervys show
(everyone loves a latexbug!)
and a hilarious American with a bullwhip,
most of the shows was too long,
to dull and too serious.
Standing and watching not only the performers, but also the audience.
I saw more than one yawn a
nd several people just walking away.

And then,pardon my french, but what the f*ck is going on with the persons booking the acts? I have no problems whatsoever with women getting objectified, I know that they are all entertainers and choose to entertain. I can also sign up for the kind of drooling that I saw many did ( a couple of minutes with the ballerina, that’s all I ask..I can hold her..tutu) with me, but. Hey. Come on. Can it please be possible to objectify some hot men as well?! The ratio was horrendous on this point and made my blood boil. I started to think about politics, gender, and representation and power, instead of. Well. Partying. I got so mad, and still feel annoyed and also sad. I tend to distance myself from the normative fetish world, not being able to connect with it and not wanting to. But every now and then it pops up and I can’t escape.

I want more buffed or sleek men on the stage. Oily. Having to take their clothes off really slowly but only getting cheered on when they get more and more naked. Or have to bend their bodies in ways that requires a massive amount of training. Having outfits and props that cost a massive amount of money. Is it too much to ask?
I want porn with the same things, images that makes me question my lust and my connotations of what gender and power is, and in the same time, I want to see people fucking and enjoying it. I wan’t representation of as many different bodys as possible.

People say there is a time and a place for each and everything, but seeing all this makes me really happy that there is another scene as well. A diverse and open, that’s constantly seem to, even if being unaware of it, challenge gender and norms. I celebrate that.

Kisses to all who’s a part of that.

And no more Rubber Balls for me.

Pretty Pervy
Skin Two Rubber Ball
Roxy Velvet


We figured we should introduce you to this blog by writing a discussion about, well, everything. Ve and I talked about doing a blog since we are so abfab and have so much to say (she didn’t really put it that way, but close enough).

I’ll just start by introducing myself: I’m 25, sizzling hot and blond. Also I have a brain. This seems to be thought of as a fairly unusuall combination, but being swedish I know that I’m not the only one (Ve is a good example of another sizzling hot brainy girl even though she doesn’t live in Sweden). I’m a feminist, quite queer and also usually desperate enough to sleep with anything that moves, and if it doesn’t I poke it ’till it does.. No, seriously, a big part of my feminism is about sexuality and my right to my body, my right to not see my body as something holy, but more of a playground. It’s mine, and I do whatever I like with it thank you very much.  Things that makes me want to go rampage with a gun is men that assume that just because I do like sex, I’d like to have it with them. The answer is No. Everytime. No, I’ll say it again. No.
I’m a writer, a poet and a lost cause. I’m sexually submissive (sometimes), but I have an issue with the dresscode of the bdsm world. I’m the enfant terrible of basically everything, and I love every minute of my tirades.


Silia, partner in crime, sourze of both inspiration, headscratching and laughter, and as close to me as a sister. From the first time we met she has taken her responsibility to deprave me as much as possible but also fuelled many a heated discussions. I can’t remember a single time where we haven’t talked about something that revolves around sexual politics, relationships, feminism and the nasty acts themselves. And now, we will bring out that on the internet, you lucky bastards!
Silia prepared me well, if anything could’ve prepared me for what was waiting in capital of The Stiff Upper Lip (London that is). There, it all escalated.

Coming out on the fetish scene, meeting fellow pervs, dancing a lot, playing and coming hard (oh yes, I love used-up clichès) and during the days work in the best sexshop in the whole world sparked the fire
that was already lit.
22 y.o and stubborn as hell.

I am also one of those who calls themselves a poet and other labels that I might pick from the bowl to label myself with is queer feminist, relationship anarchist, switch and whatever floats my boat that day.

Yesh, Silia, it feels like I could agree with most of the things you already written, but still, am quite sure that you and I will write from completely different angles.
Let’s start this show!

Yeah, thing is, even though we do agree on a lot of things, we have one huge thing that differs us. You enjoy the bdsm-scene, I cry tears of blood just thinking of it. It’s like admitting a disease: I can’t stand red and black together and have a really really hard time seeing the point of Latex, leather of pvc. You see? It’s impossible. I finally find the type of depraved sex I want, and then: They all dress like some sort of half goths from the 90’s!


Oh, forgot to mention: Silia is the better one on sarcasm, irony and general bashing. Itry too keep up, not there yet. Love her for it, but fact is, I do l look awesome in my red and black latexdress!
In other words, I got my kinks, that involve corsets, rubber aswell as the whole idea about power exchange, surrounding bondage, sadomasochism, submission and dominance.

Back to the subject. I think I was lucky, was coming from a smaller swedish town and then going to London. There’s a world inbetween, and the world is spelled diversity and openness. And better opportunities to dress in what can only be described as Very Hot Clothes That Makes My Heart Pound and lower regions overflow.
I would probably don’t be where I am now if I stayed in Sweden.  I am all for change, diversity and open minds and that’s why you, dear reader, will hopefully join on both of our journeys, where mine will maybe be more about all the wonderfully nasty things  that wonderfully people do to me or I do to them.

So, favourite slut of all time, when are you coming to London and start humping the beautiful people? I can find someone without latexgear…

When the beautiful people of UK starts developing a gene that allows them to have a chin.. Nah, I believe you Ve on the fact that people dress better overthere, i do at least dearly hope so because I just can’t take one more overweight man in leather trousers with a tendency to call me whore and think I’ll melt into a puddle of submission just by him being. Not being infact anything, just being.
There’s another thing that differ us quite clearly, Ve loves it, lives it and enjoys almost every minute of it (I just assume that even she has bad days, superwoman has to have bad hair days aswell, ey?), for her it is well, a way of living. For me it’s just a rather annoying part of my personality. If I could, i’d chop that part right off and feed it to the dogs (my neighbour has a rottweiler, she can have it). Sometimes I admit that I wish I was more like her in this aspect, but I don’t seem to have it in me. Instead I go complete happy happy joy joy when I dance instead. A fairly more socially acceptable hobby. “So what do you do in your spare time?” “I ask people to spank my ass and call me charlie” vs “I go dancing”. Ha, who wins? (She is still the one having the most fun I think, and definitly her clitoris has.)

That not saying my clitoris is ignored and locked into a cupboard somewhere. (Ve comments: It certainly isn’t.. and raises an eyebrow) It gets out and about from time to time, we go for walkies now and then.. The truth is, I’m a goddamn slut. I am, and I am also goddamn proud of it. So many of my friends feel anxiety after a crappy shag, all I feel is “ah, what the hell, i’ll make it up with someone else tonight”. I’m glad that I mysteriously escaped the whole business of being ashamed of my somewhat strong sexuality.  I’m a relationship anarchist, and most of the time I keep about three sexual relationships going paralell, plus whatever sex that happens when I’m drunk. I’m also in about 2-4 emotional relationships in paralell, sexual or non sexual. Yes, my schedule is pretty packed. But it’s fun and it works for me, which in the end is the only thing that matters.

As Ve said, she will probably be the one delivering the pr0n, while i´ll be ranting about the natural doms that are spread over sweden like some damn plauge of locusts… It’s not because she’s getting more of the sexy stuff, it’s just that i’m so just to getting it (i’m not serious ok? Thats a joke, laugh now.). I’ll probably write about sexual experiences to, but my approach will probably be more problem based. See it as a form of intellectual pr0n. One thing I promise I will write about though is when I try messy the first time, because i’ll be such a happy little gal after that, that nothing can stop me:D.

But Ve, I know you have The Wanky Men ™ in La Londre, but are you really completely free from the natural doms? In that case, I’m already packing my bags..


Oh, I wish. There is The Wanky Men™ and something else. The Dribbling Wet Subs. I am not talking about the dribbling that can come from really hot play session nor about Wet, I am talking about men who honestly think every dominant woman, or domme, is having an urge to play with them. It’s the whole thing over and over again, womens sexuality is still not seen as her own. La Londre is not free from this, certainly not, and therefor I will not only provide the pr0n, but also do my best to make sure to feed you with the flaming political rants aswell.  I am a huge fan of sex ed, safe sex and sexpositive attitudes and spaces and not afraid not express that. Happily I will try to give as much as I can, listen to you readers about your experiences and point out other awesome texts on internet, cause it’s a win-win situation.

Yeah, sorry, i forgot: I too want to read about our readers experiences, it’s just that my image doesn’t really allow that sort of positive outbursts in terms of two way communication, I’m more of a monologue-ish person… 😉 )

With more facts and knowledge and access to that, the more power you have in your own life, in whatever kind of situations you end up in and whatever kind of choices you wan’t to make.
+ it could not be better; the perversities and politics from both Sweden AND U.K delieveried by two sizzling hot (can’t repeat that to many times) blondes that just want more. And more. And more.

Ready world?
Here we are!

Silia and Ve