November 2003

 

November 1 2003

Into my second month of blogging! I've archived October's entries, which I plan to do with each month's entries every time a new month starts. See the Blog Archive to read old entries.

I thought I'd be too busy playing with Neige to write this weekend, but she's sick tonight, so I've got some time to write out a few recent thoughts I had about skin.

Neige’s skin is as pale as mine, which is about as pale as skin gets on a healthy human. (Am I a healthy human? I smoke, that’s not healthy. And I drink too much coffee. But I go to a lot of aerobics and pilates classes, does that make up for it?) I guess “fair” is a more flattering term than “pale,” but I always thought of myself as pale. Snow White skin. Wasn’t Snow White, in the fairy tale, named for the whiteness of her skin?

I’ve always associated pale skin with vulnerability. Somehow melanin seems like an extra layer of protection, not just from the sun, but from the world, like an extra layer of clothing. Like somehow dark-skinned people are never as completely naked as pale-skinned people. I know this is an illusion, just one of my weird ideas, because I’ve been in bed with lots of people whose skin is darker than mine, and I know their skin can be as sensitive to touch, as tender, as ticklish as mine. But I feel more sensitive, more ticklish, when I’m with a darker-skinned person, because my paler skin heightens my sense of vulnerability. Darker partners bring out my submissive side, pale partners bring out my dominant side.

Wow, I just realized, I never thought about this before, but all of this only applies when I’m with girls. The skin color of guys doesn’t affect me in any particular way at all. By “skin color,” I just mean how fair or swarthy the skin is, not ethnicity. For the record, I’ve been with girls of a bunch of different ethnicities, but only with European-descended guys.

It’s funny how I’ve got different rules for guys. My taste in guys is kind of conservative, by which I absolutely do not mean that I go for Republicans. I mean that the values of my working-class Catholic Irish-American family influence my taste in guys, but not my taste in girls, probably because a working-class Catholic Irish-American girl gets lots of subtle and not-so-subtle messages, growing up, about what kind of guys are acceptable, but for some reason, my parents and Sunday school teachers never told me anything about what kind of girls I should be having sex with. Anyway, when I go for guys (which is rare, these days), I go for articulate European-descended guys. Also, piercings and huge tattoos turn me off in guys, but don’t bother me in girls.

I know where my feelings about pale skin come from. It’s a sexy story, which I’ll try to write out for you sometime soon.

 

November 5 2003

Yoko wrote me a very sweet email, saying that she hoped I’d continue writing about my dreams and sexual escapades, which I just re-read to help me get up the nerve to write this entry. Thanks, Yoko! That’s four readers I know about now. Jeepers!

I’m still working on that story I promised last time, trying to figure out how to tell it without having to write out my whole life story at once. One of the things I want to do with this blog is share the stories of some of the sexier events in my past (as well as any that happen in the present), but I’ve had a hard time figuring out where and how to begin. I guess what I need to do is set the scene first by explaining some background, which is what I’m going to try to do now.

First of all, let me say that I think that all truly smart and imaginative people either love bondage, or would if they tried it. They might not know it yet, either because they haven’t tried it, or because they’ve only seen it in one of its really lame forms, like at a San Francisco S&M scene party (Eew! Ugly, obese Californians wearing skimpy black leather! Barf! Yucko!). But if exposed to bondage with a good partner, they’ll love it. Imagination plus smarts equals ability to appreciate bondage.

Most of the people I know who are into bondage fall into two categories: the ones who were introduced to bondage during their late adolescent or adult life (sometimes by me), and the ones who have always been into bondage, like they were just born that way, the same way some people are just born gay. Just like early 20th Century psychoanalysts thought that gay people must have been “turned homosexual” by something in their childhood history, I’ve known some people to ask what “makes” people like bondage. My answer lately (which I stole from Nickykaa) is that it’s the same thing that “makes” people like Rock & Roll and spicy food.

Oddly enough, though, I actually do have, in my past, a specific series of events that I feel have shaped my sexual development. All of my sexual experiences, in my tender, formative, mid-teen years, were bondage experiences with girls. This wasn’t because I sought those experiences out (at least not at first, tee hee), it was because, all through high school, I hung out almost exclusively with my three best friends, in one of those little inseparable mini-cliques that high school kids sometimes form, and, all through high school, the three of them regularly amused themselves by tying up poor helpless little me.

As far as I know, this is very unusual behavior for high school girls. None of us thought of ourselves as lesbians or bisexuals, and my friends had very typical high school relationships with boys, which didn’t involve any bondage (we told each other enough secrets that I’m sure I would have heard about it if they’d done any bondage outside of our strange little foursome). I’ve discussed this with many of my sexual partners over the years, and none of them had ever had anything like that happen with their high school friends, or heard of anything like it happening to anyone else. Which may explain why I’ve never met anyone else with a sex life quite like mine.

The whole tying me up thing started out as a joke, and I guess it just got more sexual over time, as my friends discovered the thrill of satisfying their sexual curiosity and their thirst for sexual power, both needs that most teenage girls have in abundance and rarely get opportunities to fully satisfy. I guess it was just the right combination of girls, for the whole thing to progress the way it did.

Okay, that’s my introduction. When I have time, I’ll work more on trying to write about specific incidents. I’ll see if I can actually piece together a history of how the whole thing started, and how it progressed.

 

November 7 2003

When Ace wrote me that nice email, he commented that he’d been impressed by my courage in posting that short October 11 entry about wanting to kiss that high school chick on the street. While trying to get up the courage to write about my own high school bondage experiences, I re-read Ace’s email to boost my morale, and this made me think about that high school chick even more, and it turned into a poem. So now this site has a poetry page, which is also a pictures page, since I also had a picture I’d been wanting to post (those aren’t my hands or Neige’s; the picture’s a few months old).

 

November 11 2003

An email conversation with Ace got me thinking about names. He’s given me his “real” name, but Ace still seems like his real name to me. Nickykaa, who has a fascinating perspective on names, once said to me that names were magic, and that people who confused “legal” names (the names on birth certificates) with “real” names were people who didn’t understand magic. In one of his blog entries last year, Nickykaa wrote:

In which case, maybe Lila is my real name. As I wrote to Ace:

The name Lila actually did come to me in a dream, shortly before I left home for California, and when shit fell apart for me and I fell in with Berkeley’s street-punk population, I just started introducing myself to them as Lila.

This would be a good time to tell you all the story of the name “Guttergaunt,” which is actually another Nickykaa story. In fact, it’s the “How I Met Nickykaa” story.

Nickykaa is a big fan of the band T. Rex. So am I, now, thanks to him, but until I met him I’d never heard of them. T. Rex has a song called “Ballrooms of Mars,” which has a line that goes, “You diamond-browed hag, you’re a gutter-gaunt gangster.” Nickykaa placed an online personals ad with the title “Pawn of None Seeks Gutter-Gaunt Gangster” (“Pawn of None” is a phrase from the T. Rex song “Dandy in the Underworld”), on the incorrect assumption that it would only attract fellow T. Rex fans (why he wanted to attract girls who were T. Rex fans is a mystery to me).

Of course, his ad didn’t only attract T. Rex fans, it also attracted me. I was intrigued by the adjective “gutter-gaunt.” It spoke to me, somehow, of my street-punk days, and of the gaunt look I picked up in those times (I’ve been skinny ever since, and I wasn’t, before those days).

When I answered the ad and we began our email flirtation, I told him right off that it was that particular phrase that had hooked me. He told me where the name came from, and also mentioned that in his head he’d always referred to the Berkeley street-punks as “guttergaunts.” This was before I’d told him that I’d been one of those “guttergaunts,” though of course it prompted me to tell him immediately, and, once I’d opened up to him so quickly about a subject I’m usually uncomfortable talking about (except in this blog, apparently), actually dating him felt like it was almost a foregone conclusion.

During our brief fling, Nickykaa affectionately referred to me as “Guttergaunt,” the only pet nickname anyone ever stuck me with that was non-cutesy enough that it didn’t make me want to puke. Whatever’s wrong with Nickykaa’s strange reptilian brain must be contagious, because now I, too, think of those street-punks as “guttergaunts,” and of myself as, I guess, a “veteran guttergaunt” or something. So that’s where the name comes from.

 

November 18 2003

Bleah. Winter depression. And it’s not even winter yet. In fact, the weather’s been lovely. It rained a lot on Friday, but I like rain. But I’m still depressed. Yesterday was my birthday (you’d already guessed I was a Scorpio, right?), and that always gets me down for some reason, though I admit that it’s probably my fault for almost always choosing to spend it alone.

Lately, I don’t want to do anything except sit around and read. Which drove Neige crazy on Saturday, when I tied her up and gagged her and then sat around and read for a couple of hours. Aw, poor girl. And after she was so sweet and thoughtful as to give me a totally cool Harley Quinn t-shirt for my birthday. What can I say? Depression makes me cruel. Probably because I need to be tied up myself, and that’s not the chemistry I’ve got with Neige, with her it’s a one-way, Lila’s in charge kind of thing. That’s just how it worked out, sometimes it’s like that.

I need another playmate, a more dominant one, which means I need to place another personals ad, and today’s the day to do it (and to catch up on my blogging), because work is slow lately, and I feel just sick enough (though it’s probably all in my head) to have called in and told them I wouldn’t be in unless they called me up for something urgent.

Okay, here’s today’s ad:

Short and sweet, just like me. I’m off to post it. While I wait for replies, I’ll see if I can sit down and finally make myself write out my first bondage experience for you, or at least get started on it. Ha ha, maybe I need someone to tie me up and make me write it.

 

November 21 2003

Yoko, in her blog entry for this morning, wrote:

Then she listed some of the search terms that had led search engine users to her site. Right away, Nickykaa responded by posting a blog entry where he listed some of the freaky search terms that had landed people at his site. And he wrote:

How could I resist? Of course, I had to wait all day for Nickykaa to answer the email I sent him, asking him how to check my referrer log. I didn’t even know I could do that! (which, come to think of it, is what I said the first time I noticed that I’d given a boy a hardon... but I digress...)

Much to my chagrin, I found that so far only nine search engine users have stumbled upon this site. I guess with so much kinky sex on the web, I’ve got a lot of competition. Apparently, a whole lot more people would be reading my site if I wrote about topics that people were less interested in.

Anyway, here are the nine search terms that have brought web surfers into my clutches so far:

Pretty cool! I think checking my logs could easily become an obsession.

Sweet dreams!

 

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