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One Million Wackadoodles February 29, 2012

Posted by Dev in Musings.
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4 comments

There’s a group out there called “One Million Moms” but you can see from my title above what I really think they should be called. The Moms have banded together to protect all of us, especially our children, from the filth that is invading American society–filth such as “immorality, violence, vulgarity and profanity.” Their strategy is to identify this loathsome stuff and then begin a letter writing campaign, usually accompanied by a boycott.

The OMM (and it should be noted, they are about 957K members short of their stated membership goal) first came to my attention when they mounted a boycott of J.C. Penney for hiring Ellen DeGeneres as a spokesperson. Their rationale?

Funny that JC Penney thinks hiring an open homosexual spokesperson will help their business when most of their customers are traditional families. More sales will be lost than gained unless they replace their spokesperson quickly. Unless JC Penney decides to be neutral in the culture war then their brand transformation will be unsuccessful.

That campaign didn’t go quite the way they expected. Instead of getting Ellen fired, she has been firmly supported by the store. Ellen went on her show and spoke of their support, saying,  “They [One Million Moms] wanted to get me fired and I am proud and happy to say that J.C. Penney stuck by their decision to make me their spokesperson.” You can see the video clip here. A fan started a Facebook page, One Million People Who Support Ellen for J.C. Penney, which right now has 194K likes.

Next those silly Moms decided to go after Archie because the latest issue features “a same sex wedding on the cover.” Now, interestingly, the Moms didn’t tell people not to buy the comic, but rather, to boycott Toys ‘R’ Us because they are selling the comic “openly” (? not sure how you sell a comic any other way, but whatever) at the front near the cash registers. Again, their rationale for this:

 Unfortunately, children are now being exposed to same-sex marriage in a toy store. This is the last place a parent would expect to be confronted with questions from their children on topics that are too complicated for them to understand. Issues of this nature are being introduced too early and too soon, which is becoming extremely common and unnecessary.

I went home and told Ab about this and he looked at me like I was crazy. “Dev,” he said, “if I was going to buy a comic book, the last place I would consider going to is Toys ‘R’ Us.” Good point, Ab.

Meanwhile, the CEO of Archie comics, John Goldwater, stands by the issue and characters, issuing this statement:

We stand by Life with Archie #16. As I’ve said before, Riverdale is a safe, welcoming place that does not judge anyone. It’s an idealized version of America that will hopefully become reality someday. We’re sorry the American Family Association/OneMillionMoms.com feels so negatively about our product, but they have every right to their opinion, just like we have the right to stand by ours. Kevin Keller will forever be a part of Riverdale, and he will live a happy, long life free of prejudice, hate and narrow-minded people.

Now, I should point out something about how the comic is distributed. Even though this is the February 15th issue, it has been on the newstand since January 15th. The March 15th issue began distribution on February 15th. What do you want to bet those silly Moms will take credit for their boycott being effective and claim that the comic was removed at their behest?

Just when I thought they couldn’t get any wackier, they decided to go after Liquid-Plumr because Clorox (parent company of L-P) has created an ad with “two sexy plumbers.”  And boy, are the Moms indiginant: “They are attempting to use sex to sell a product to unclog drains!” Gasp! The horror!

God forbid they point a link to the ad so someone could watch it and make up her mind about its inappropriateness–rather, they write a second-by-second description of what goes on:

The commercial starts off with a woman in a supermarket daydreaming about what this new Liquid-Plumr product has to offer. She says, “Double impact,” twice as she reads the bottle. In her dream she is at home and answers the door to find a sexy plumber. The plumber is nice looking with huge biceps and a tight shirt. He says, “I’m here to snake your drain.” She says come on in and he walks upstairs. The doorbell rings again and it is a second sexy plumber. He says, “I’m here to flush your pipe.” She answers with an okay and while he walks on upstairs she lets out a squeal and moan while letting down her hair. Then she wakes up to reality to find the two men in the supermarket. She flirts by giving sexy eyes to the one man in the deli slicing meat and the other in produce holding two melons. These two men are the same as in her dream. It may be coincidence, but the man in produce is standing beside cucumbers with a price sign behind him reading 69 cents.

Now my question is, how many times did this concerned Mom have to watch this ad to come up with this level of detail? And, as a Facebook friend pointed out, they picked up on details that would probably completely bypass the casual viewer. I certainly didn’t notice the 69 cent sign on my first, er, third, er, tenth viewing. 🙂

Since I’m not shy about what’s in the ad, here’s a link:   Enjoy. The plumbers are sexy and the woman with the plugged drain is pretty cute too, in a Tina Fey sort of way.

I have to say, I wonder what on earth those Moms would think of a woman who keeps her husband locked in a chastity device and can’t remember the last time he had an orgasm. Hmmm…. 😉

The Kinky Kings — Redux December 11, 2011

Posted by Dev in Musings.
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3 comments

I posted this last year but I thought it was worth reprising. The Kings have made another appearance on our dining room table and they are still up to their bad boy ways. Makes me wonder what they were doing while they were in storage for the past 11 months. 😉

~~~

The Kinky Kings

a slightly risque photo essay by Dev

We haven’t done much in the way of Christmas decorating here in the Devoted Lover household–too busy testing Humblers and so on–but the three Kings have made an appearance on our dining room table.

We three Kings of Orient are
Bearing gifts we traverse afar
Field and fountain, moor and mountain
Following yonder star.

They looked so innocent while they were just walking along, but I could tell, the minute they stopped to take a break
they were eyeing each other…

The King in green, who turned out to be Melchior, had a particularly devilish gleam in his eye. The minute my back was turned, he made a beeline for the black bearded one. “Got a kiss for daddy?” he purred.

The little guy was shocked–SHOCKED!–at what his two compatriots were up to and discreetly turned away. But when he heard robes rustling and positions shifting, curiosity got the better of him.

His eyes widened like saucers. “What are you…what are you…?” he stammered, hardly believing what he saw.

The black-bearded King pulled himself off the green guy’s cock for a second, and glared at the little guy. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he snapped. “Melchior and I aren’t putting on a show for you. Either join in the fun or go sit under that burning bush over there.”

“Yeah,” said Melchior. “Two kings are good, but three are better.”

The little guy didn’t need to be asked twice.

And thus the Kinky Kings were born…

(Un)Safe Sex with a Sawzall March 5, 2011

Posted by Dev in Musings.
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5 comments

After my post yesterday about the incident at Northwestern University, I wondered if Ab would come home with his Sawzall. He didn’t but he did send me a few links for Sawzall adpaters, designed to turn them into fucking machines or the more colorfully named, Fuckzall. Apparently this is what was used in the demonstration sex act for the optional after class viewing opportunity. How did he know about these and I didn’t? He gave me some vague answer that he read about them on Gizmodo. Um, right…

Maybe I am kinkier than I realize, but I think the idea of a Fuckzall is fucking hot. 🙂 I’ve seen Ab’s Sawzall but I have never held the thing. I wonder how slow it can go? Or how fast?

To cure his cabin fever, he decided to renovate one of our bathrooms. He tore everything out, assessed what he needed and then we headed off to Home Depot to buy paint and a new toilet. He also told me that he needed a new Ryobi drill because the charger on the one we have had died.

Because of his work, Ab owns a zillion tools, power and otherwise. Most of them are at the shop and he brings them home when needed here for a project, but we have a few things that are kept at the house, including this particular drill. I have absolutely no clue what’s what and on the rare occasion I need to do something, like hammer a tack, I ask him for the tool and it appears in my hand. To be honest, the more likely scenario is that I tell him, “That tack needs to be hammered” and it gets done without any other intervention from me. The point is, I don’t have a mental inventory of the tools that we own.

Anyway, because Ab does discuss spending money with me, even though I am clueless about the tools around the house, he brought up this drill. He tells me he could buy a drill by itself or he could be a kit which includes a drill, flashlight, and reciprocating saw. Reciprocating saw? The Ryobi version of the Sawzall? My eyes lit up. “And the saw would be battery powered, too, like the drill?” Yes, he said. Okay, now I’m really interested.

At Home Depot, he finds one version of the drill package that includes the drill, flashlight, circular saw, reciprocating saw and a carryall bag for $149. He’s convinced that he saw one at the other Home Depot (when Ab gets into a renovation project, Home Depot becomes his home away from home) that was only $119 and didn’t include the circular saw.

“Go ahead and buy the kit,” I said, thinking of the Fuckzall adapter I have already ordered from Extreme Restraints. (I told you I thought it was hot!)

“No, no,” he said. All he really needed was the drill and a new charger. He could use our existing flashlight on the charger and he really didn’t need another circular and reciprocating saw. He could buy the drill for $49 and save one hundred bucks.

Damn! No battery operated reciprocating saw.

The kicker was, when he got home he found out the charger for the new drill isn’t the same as the old drill, so he can’t charge the flashlight! WTF!

He tells me that he has a different charger at the shop he can bring home so we’ll still have a flashlight but no battery operated saw. Well, I guess I can always go shopping. 😉

* * * * *

If Ab goes after me with the Fuckzall (although I like the thought of doing him…hee hee hee) you can be sure I’ll be checking and double-checking the device to make sure the saw is off and the adapter is on. God knows that this moron was thinking when he put a rubber dildo over the saw, stuck it in his wife, and then proceeded to shred her vagina to ribbons. From Baynet.com:

On March 9, the St. Mary’s County Sheriff’s Office was notified of a Lexington Park, Maryland woman, reportedly aged 27, who was flown to Prince George’s Hospital for an injury which occurred on March 8, as a result of a sexual act involving the use of a reciprocating saw.  The original 911 call was dispatched as a medical emergency.

A man told authorities that he had placed a sex toy on a saber saw blade and that the blade had sawed through the plastic and severely wounded the woman. Trooper 7 transported the woman to PG Hospital. The case remains under investigation at this time. No word on the condition of the woman at this time.

This was two years ago (2009). I wonder what shape she is now and if they’ve played with the Fuckzall since then? LOL.

 

 

Sweet Dreams March 4, 2011

Posted by Dev in Musings.
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9 comments

His CB is missing!

I love sleeping with my husband. For me, it’s a major bonus of being married—a lifelong slumber party with my best friend. I can count the times we haven’t slept together when we’ve been together on one hand. Sure, we’ve been apart many times in our 32+ years together—I had one job where I was traveling quite a bit—but when we’re at home or traveling as a couple, we’re sleeping in the same bed.

This is why, when I read blogs of women who make their husbands sleep on the floor next to the bed, or in the guest room, or in a cage in the basement, I just shake my head. The latter is usually described as some form of punishment but I wonder who is really being punished? I know that if Ab was down in a cage in the basement, I’d be tossing and turning all night, depriving myself of my much needed rest. This would really be beneficial for one or both of us? I don’t think so.

I mentioned in another post that I was reading GhosTV (another 5-star read in the PsyCop universe, BTW. Highly recommended). The protagonists are Vic and Jacob. They are both tall men, over six feet; Vic is rock-star skinny while Jacob is gym-aficionado muscular. Vic often comments how much he enjoys turning into “the solid wall of flesh” that is his lover. I can empathize. While Ab isn’t as big as Jacob, he is a man with muscles, planes, and angles shaping his body, as opposed to my feminine curves. Like Vic, I like turning into him and feeling him holding me close.

I read another blog that said dominant women shouldn’t spoon with their men—it puts the woman in a submissive position. Seriously, who comes up with these “rules”? Ab can spoon with me all he wants. Again, he holds me close and now I often feel the metal of his Watchful Mistress brush against my ass. Let’s talk dominant, shall we? There he is, caged and loving me, wanting me, and being denied by me. Yes, I think spooning is quite acceptable for a woman in charge. 🙂

My parents slept like Ricky and Lucy, that is, in twin beds. They never had a double bed and in later years, even had separate rooms. This is a mystery to me because they were affectionate with each other and obviously in love. Maybe not a wild, passionate love but certainly one that sustained 56 years of marriage. So I don’t understand how they could give up seven or eight hours of intimacy and closeness every night for their entire married lives. I never asked and I am not going to now—at this point, it’s moot and not really any of my business—but the “sleeping apart” gene is definitely one I did not inherit!

When I was about 12 years old, a new family built a home and moved into our neighborhood. The windows on the second floor were misplaced in relation to the windows on the first floor. Supposedly this was to accommodate the parent’s king-sized bed. I can certainly imagine what was going through my mother’s architecturally-correct mind: “Sex fiends!” she probably thought. “Destroying the fenestration of the house for piece of furniture!” LOL.

While I am hesitant to say “forever” about things—maybe I don’t like to jinx myself—I think it is probably safe to say that Ab and I will be sleeping together for the rest of our lives. That’s a given. Now will he be wearing a cock cage for years to come? Time will tell. 🙂

* * * * *

There is a bit of a flap at Northwestern University, where a professor of human sexuality had an after class demonstration of some kinky sex. Apparently the woman, whose kink is exhibitionism (not too surprising) had her boyfriend get her off with some sort of a device. My newspaper would only call it “a mechanized device.” The Chicago Sun-Times was a little more specific, describing it thus:

The live sex act featured a sex toy that was a modified version of a power tool known as a reciprocating saw, or Sawzall. The tool used at Northwestern featured a phallic attachment in place of the blade.

Sawzall, huh? I want to see what this thing looks like…LOL. I know Ab has a Sawzall and he’s a clever guy…

Naturally, parents and alums are outraged and the president has pledged a full investigation. It doesn’t sound like there is a whole lot to investigate but here we are—sex in America, especially public sex, gets everybody’s panties in a twist. This comment (left on the article at the Sun-Times) sums up my feelings about the whole situation quite nicely:

This is too much for my brain to handle. People who witnessed the demonstration weren’t disturbed by it, but people who didn’t witness the demonstration are disturbed by it. H L Mencken was right: some people are disturbed by the notion that somewhere someone might be having fun.

So true!

* * * * *

I apologize for the lack of updates over the past few days. I’ve been insanely busy this week. The entire month of March is shaping up to be a doozy, to be honest. The good news is, we have a trip at the end of the month to look forward to. Plus, being so busy is helping my cabin fever, which is also good.

* * * * *

Confidential to Harry Haversackers: You mentioned living on the plains in Canada. Many years ago, Ab and I took a two week camping trip and traveled across Canada, via Route 1, from Ontario (Lake of the Woods) to Banff and Lake Louise. We then drove down to Glacier Park in Montana and drove home through the US. We camped for one night in a Provincial Park in either Manitoba or Saskatchewan. It was amazing because we had been driving through miles of flat plains, for hours. The park had a lake that was way down (it almost looked like it had been created by a meteor or something). The lake was good sized with lots of people swimming, boating, and waterskiing. The camping area was very large and nice and looked down at the lake. I can’t remember the name of the park. I have scoured the lists of Provincial Parks and none of the descriptions match my memory of this place. Do you have any idea where we might have been? Thanks in advance!

Let’s Talk About Hair… February 5, 2011

Posted by Dev in Musings.
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13 comments

…of the pubic type.

The other day, regular commenter Wilson posted a link to this blog post, which I quite liked. I know it was in response to an earlier comment of his where he said he hates the current fad of “bare pudendas.” I replied that on that issue, we’d have to agree to disagree.

Actually, I don’t completely disagree—I am mostly neutral on the topic. Reading some of the comments from the blog, the author came to the conclusion:

If there is one thing you glean from this list of comments it’s that men and women alike fucking hate pubic hair with a passion. According to this slice of society pubic hair is equated with gross.

With all that passion I felt bad that I was not more passionate!

As I have mentioned before, I grew up in the dark ages and conversations about pubic hair—and trimming it—were just not things that came up. Ever. I assumed everyone—male and female—had a bush and that was it. My sexual escapades in college confirmed that my assumption was true.

Three weeks after we were married, Ab and I had a wild and crazy night and did things that neither of us had done before. Since we didn’t own any sex toys it was a night filled with pervertibles; one of those was a razor. He shaved off all my pubic hair which was a first for me—up until that time I had never even trimmed it, much less shaved it off! It was incredibly hot when he did it and I loved the feeling of being all smooth. Of course, the next morning when we woke up, slightly hungover, I was consumed with “Oh my God, what did we do? I am such a bad girl!” Nature reinforced that I was a bad girl since it itched like hell over the next few weeks while it was growing back in.

That was probably the first hint that we both have a bit of a shaving fetish, but it wasn’t really a driving force for either of us. Occasionally we’d get wound up and he’d do me but that was about it.

Looking at that picture of Sasha Grey—she’s got beautiful dark hair and a beautiful bush to match (and, if you look closely, it’s obvious she’s trimmed. She’s not completely au naturel.). If my pussy hair looked like that, I might want to hold onto it, too. But the hair on my head is blonde (chemically assisted these days, but, whatever) and my pussy hair was sort of mousy brown. It was not particularly attractive so that contributed to my take it or leave it attitude.

(You know whose crotch I’d like to see? Prince Harry. I bet he has gorgeous red pubes!)

Ab is not a particularly hairy guy and somewhere along the line it hit me that his chest hair—the few little whiffs that he had—wasn’t very alluring. I suggested he shave it off and frankly, on his chest he does look better smooth. He got the idea for shaving his pubes when we started going to naturist resorts and he saw other guys sporting the smooth look. Again—if he had a fabulous dark treasure trail leading to unknown mysteries beneath his fly, I might have been sad about the razor. But he didn’t and being smooth adds to his twink look—which both of us like. It’s been so many years that he’s been a smoothie, I’ve actually forgotten what his pubic hair looks like.

As for me, I’m mostly smooth, too, but it’s not because I hate the smell, look, feel, or texture of pubic hair. I think it’s mostly that every time he shaves me, it brings back the memory of that night when we were very, very young and very, very naughty. 🙂

 

Fantasy vs. Reality vs. Real Reality January 14, 2011

Posted by Dev in Musings.
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16 comments

There’s a lot of fantasy stuff out there—people writing blogs that make me shake my head and say, “Could this possibly be true?” Then there are the blogs that seem to be closer to the truth, then there’s real reality. We all know real reality but I like to pretend that it’s a bit of altered reality because that keeps things closer to the fantasy. If you know what I mean. Or, if you don’t know what I am talking about, let me try to explain.

A few weeks ago I mentioned that Ab and I have a collar that we like to play with—it’s usually been our signal for “Let’s have some fun with Top/bottom games” (or D/s). Lately, it’s been making a more regular appearance on Ab’s neck which has been fun for both of us. The fantasy—bleeding to the edge of reality—is that in the bedroom, we do have fun with power exchange and lately, the power has been more often in my hands. I guess that’s what happens when a woman locks up her husband’s cock. As a friend has said to me more than once, handing over the key is, in and of itself, a submissive act. If you accept that, and I do, then we just take it a little further for playtime.

The collar we had been playing with was just a cheap old thing that Ab picked up at a pet store. I decided for his birthday to kick it up a notch and get something attractive and “permanent”—that is, something harder to take off than just unbuckling a buckle. Maybe something that would require a key that I would hold on to. I did a little research and found Eternity Collars. This looked like just the ticket!

Wednesday was a snow day and we did end up having lots of fun, as I had predicted. Ab put on some of his favorite sexy clothes, we cranked up the heat in the kitchen, and started to play. As things progressed and the emotions began to run high, I caved and pulled out the collar in its package. “This is for your birthday,” I said, “but I am giving it to you a few days early.” (Sometimes I have problems with impulse control. LOL)

He opened the package, hands trembling a bit. Then, oh, he liked it! I screwed it on and held up the Allen wrench. “I am holding onto this key. You won’t know where it is. Only I can take this off.”

“You mean,” he said, “I’m wearing this…forever?”

“Yes,” I replied. “I want everyone to know I’m in charge.”

We had a bit more discussion which included Ab saying things like, “Are you sure you want your mother to see this?” but I was adamant. He was collared. He was my slave.

Thursday morning when he got up I said, “If you want to take your collar off before you leave, I’ll unscrew it for you. I realize you might not be ready to go public.”

“No,” he said. “I’m wearing it. That’s what you want.”

Oh, hot! …. Shiver…

Thursday evening I got home and there it was: nice and shiny around his neck. “Glad to see you’re still dressed in metal,” I said. He nodded. “Did anyone at work say anything?”

He paused. “I took it off,” he admitted. “This thing is fucking heavy.”

“You took it off!” I feigned surprise. (To be honest, I wasn’t really surprised. This is where real reality comes in.)

“Yes. It’s just a simple little screw with an Allen wrench. It was easy to get off.”

“You have that size Allen wrench at your shop?”

He gave me a look. “Dev, I have every size Allen wrench.”

“Oh.” I paused. “But you’re wearing it now!”

And that’s how it works.

The fantasy: He’s my slave, collared 24/7 in permanent metal collar that’s never coming off.

The reality: I got him a nice collar for his birthday that we’ll play with and enjoy. It’s more attractive than the old dog collar and it has more opportunities for…fun. 🙂

The real reality: He’s not my slave, he’s not wearing it 24/7, he’s not wearing it at work and he’ll never, ever wear it in front of my mother! But we can pretend which brings us back to the fantasy

Works for us!

Snow Day! January 12, 2011

Posted by Dev in Musings.
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2 comments

The forecast calls for at least two feet of snow!

We’re having a snowstorm here in Devoted Lover land. They are not really predicting two feet—more like twelve inches—but it’s enough to keep me home. Ab too.

For those of us who grew up in climates where we had snow days, remember the excitement? An unexpected day off from school was clearly a gift from the gods and Mother Nature. We never knew in advance—it was always a last minute decision. We’d wake up at the crack of dawn, look out the window and wonder, “Is it enough?” Then we’d turn the radio on, twirl the dial and try to find the school closing announcements which were broadcast on an obscure AM station that we didn’t listen to. Finally, we’d hear the DJ droning through a list of schools. I lived in town that started with ‘B’ and if we tuned in during the ‘D’ schools, we knew we were in for a long haul of boring listening. Then—at last—yes! Day off!

It’s different now. Text messages beep at 4:30 am with the news that schools, the mall, and the city have closed. I look at the screen through bleary eyes then turn over and go back to sleep. With a computer and an Internet connection I can work virtually anywhere, including home, so in that sense, it’s not really a day off. I’ve saved myself some white-knuckle driving on miserable roads but I don’t have the luxury of kicking back and spending the day reading a trashy novel.

Well, maybe I do. Ab is home. 🙂

Ab believes in the motto, “Neither snow nor sleet…” No matter what is coming out of the sky, he heads off to work—usually. Last night, though, he told me he had brought some paperwork home and planned to stay put for this storm. He has meals planned (he has already cooked me a nice breakfast) and has informed me that the afternoon will be devoted to kinky fun. Whoo-boy! This is better than making snow angels!

More later, my friends. Enjoy the day and if you are somewhere stormy, stay safe!

Dev

Boot Worship January 7, 2011

Posted by Dev in Musings.
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14 comments

As you can imagine, to get up to speed on chastity, I do a lot of blog and forum reading. Chastity is my primary interest but it doesn’t take much searching to get into tangential topics. One thing that pops up a lot on my radar screen is boot worship or folks that have a boot fetish. It seems that there are a ton of people out there who are into boots.

I asked Ab about this. “Do boots turn you on? If so, I have an old pair in the back of my closet that I can probably dig out for a little fun.”

“Not really,” he said, “but thanks for the offer. They have too much of a military overtone for me and that’s not hot.”

Love the red and they are flat, too. Nice.

Fair enough. It’s a bit of a shame, though, because I’ve realized that Maine in winter is heaven on earth for boot fetishists. I mean, I’ve never really paid attention before but everywhere you look, there are boots. Black boots, brown boots, quilted boots, boots with pointy toes. Stiletto heeled boots, boots with zippers, boots with laces. Laces in the front, laces in the back, laces on the side. If laces don’t turn you on, how about buckles? One buckle at the top, a series of buckles down the side. Ankle high boots. Knee high boots. Thigh high boots. I’ve seen all of these in the past 7 days.

I was at the dentist on Wednesday morning and a young woman came in wearing a killer pair of thigh high, black leather boots. Even I, who, like Ab is not really into boots, could see that these were really hot. Or at least hot to me. I think part of the appeal was that they didn’t have heels so I could actually imagine wearing these. They had a flare at the top so she could roll them down to wear as knee-high boots, which also appealed. And just a little bit of lacing at the back. Yes, they were sexy. The picture up above isn’t exact, but it’s pretty close—I think you get the idea.

Buckles and buttons---I like these.

The thing was—the girl wearing them was totally nonchalant. She looked youngish—maybe 18 or so—so she might not even realize there is whole world of kinky people out there who would love to throw themselves at her feet and start licking her sexy boots. She was probably just thinking, “It’s Maine, it’s winter, there’s snow on the ground. Of course I am going to wear boots.”

Never mind that the snow, at present, is about one-quarter inch deep.

I glanced around the waiting room, wondering if there were any boot fetishists coming in their pants at the sight of this chick’s footwear. There was a very frail old guy in a wheelchair—clearly his boot worshipping days (if he had them) are long over. The woman with him—his daughter, perhaps?—looked like one of those vanilla wives with no sex drive that I keep hearing about. No boot turn-on for her. But there was another guy, reading the paper…I noticed he kept sneaking surreptitious glances over the top of his glasses. Hmm…perhaps? Maybe?

Kinky thinking at 9 am in the waiting room of the dentist’s office! Gotta love it!

Come on, boot lovers…tell me your fantasies. I’m all ears. 😉

Quotes from Ab: XIV December 11, 2010

Posted by Dev in Quotes from Ab.
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4 comments

“Since I’ve started wearing a cock cage, I’ve become a tit-loving, pussy-worshipping, collar-wearing acolyte of Dev.”

Need I say more? 🙂

Re: the collar–I haven’t mentioned that before. We’ve had one around here for years that we’ve used for playtime and it has spent time on both our necks. But it’s been making a more frequent appearance in recent weeks, and Ab is always the one who is wearing it…

A Spanking Surprise November 21, 2010

Posted by Dev in Musings.
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8 comments

The other night, Ab and I spent an hour or so surfing various blogs. I have gotten to the point where I have realized that I have absolutely no “bullshit filter” for figuring out which blogs are total fantasy fabrications, which are semi-real, and which are really real. Ab graciously agreed to look at a few with me and give me his opinion on each one.

“Fake, fake, fake,” he said, and then we got to this one: A Spanking Marriage. “This one looks real,” Ab said, and I agreed.

I had found this blog earlier in the day, through a series of links from someone who had been looking at my blog. I had actually found it very interesting because the story the woman told—her journey to discovering spanking with her husband—was very similar to many chastity stories I have read. Substitute “chastity” for “spanking” and they could be interchangeable: middle-aged couple; spark has gone out of their love life; wife discovers that her husband likes to look at porn on the Internet and masturbate in front of his computer; this behavior is having a negative impact on their sex life. His kink is spanking. She’s vanilla but decides that her marriage is important enough to try to accommodate his desires into their sex life. And when she does, she finds that she gets into it and off on it more than she ever expected. Sound familiar?

As Ab read through the entries he gave me a shy look. “You know, this is sort of hot,” he said.

“Spanking?” I replied, slightly incredulous.

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking embarrassed.

This took me back a bit. Ab has never seemed to be into pain. If I tweak his nipples he yelps. The other night I was patting—not even slapping!—his balls and he loudly proclaimed, “Ouch! That hurts! And not in a good way!” But he’d be into being spanked?

Then I thought back to a few months ago—right around the time that I had ordered Ab his new thongs. We were fooling around in the kitchen (yes, always the kitchen, LOL) and I grabbed a spatula out of the utensil drawer. I used it on his bottom and got it to redden up nice and quick and he seemed to enjoy that. Then I remembered a comment I wrote about the Humbler the other day, in response to a question from Atone:

So do you have plans on what you are going to do once you get Ab locked in the humbler?

And I replied:

Once the humbler is on, I think I’d like to make his butt glow red. Likes2blocked tells me I should invest in a jumping bat. That’s an intriguing idea, don’t you think?

I also recalled that likes2blocked told me he is getting paddled on a regular basis by his wife.

I suddenly realized I was at one of those “make it or break it” moments. For the past three months, Ab has been indulging my kink (as everyone knows, I am the one who brought up chastity) and now he is quietly confessing to me a fantasy of his: spanking. How long has he had this in his mind? I have no idea. At least since September when I swatted him with the spatula. Maybe longer. When we have a chance to talk about it, you can be sure that will be one of my questions.

So, now that he has revealed this to me, I figure it is time for me to pony up and indulge his kink. Thus, I have spent some time today looking at various spanking websites—and there are plenty! From what I can gather, spanking is a very specific fetish for some people. They want to be spanked but that is the extent of their pain play. No nipple clamps, no thrashing on the upper back—butt only or maybe butt and thighs. That’s it. It seems that, given the limited information that I have at this moment, Ab would fall into this category. It also seems that while there are plenty of “equal opportunity” spanking couples, there are many where there is an exclusive spanker and spankee, which, right now is what I am thinking will happen in the Devoted Lover household but who knows? Keep an open mind is my motto.

A prototype batten

Since I am not ready to start spending a whole lot of money on spanking gear (and besides, I think the spanking is going to start pronto, before I have time for UPS to arrive) I decided to do an inventory of found items in the house. We have: a variety of wooden spoons, stirrers, and mixers; the aforementioned spatula, which is metal; a rice paddle, which I understand can be quite stinging; assorted belts; a yardstick; a metal ruler; and a wooden hairbrush. That should be enough to get us through a session or two, I thought. Then, I was standing in the bedroom and my eyes drifted down to the pile of toys in the bag next to the bed. I saw the item pictured above which I believe would be called a “batten.” Ab made it for me/us right after the spatula session in September.

Sometimes I can be so clueless.

As always, tips, tricks, and techniques on spanking are welcome in the comments.