スプツニ子！／Sputniko! - Menstruation Machine, Takashi's Take

A new video by Sputniko! (http://sputniko.com/blog) I'm a female artist and the machine is not only for men, it can also be worn by women in future when menstruation might become something obsolete - I'm not suggesting when or by whom this machine would be used - after much research with reproductive scientists (which I write in my website) I know that the psychologies which people associate with menstruation is too complex to make the reason for using such a device so simple - this music video is just one example of many possibilities.

More Info Below
http://www.sputniko.com/works/sputniko/menstruation-machine

Thoughts trigger other thoughts and so on like a marigo round. That’s just how the mind works when you give it free reign. You start off thinking about your dire need for clean laundry and you end up remembering the day you lost your two front teeth. I was lying in bed the other night, trying to fall asleep while simultaneously trying to find a title for a new blog I want to start. Not the best way to fall asleep mind you, but hell, that’s when I do some of my best thinking: in bed…and in the shower. Interpret that as you like.

The new blog I want to start is about crafts and other creative endeavours, so I was brainstorming about the origin of ideas. How they spark, how they develop, which led me to think about dark rooms and the time I was groped in one. You see, my grade nine biology teacher was an amateur photographer and he had transformed a small room at school into a dark room. A few miscellaneous students got together and put together an unofficial photo club. This endeavour didn’t last very long, since none of us were really that organized and our bio teacher was a bit of a boozer, but for a short time we misfits had free access to a dark room.

There was this guy in school who most people wouldn’t look twice at and he had this huge crush on one of the “cool” girls. Unabashed by his lack of social skills and all around dorkiness he pursued this girl all through grade eight. She wouldn’t have it, but by the time we entered grade nine he had transformed himself into this totally hot cool dude, and suddenly the girl in question finally gave into his advances and they became one of the “it” couples.

The guy was cuuuute and many a girl fancied him, but as I’ve already told you he was taken. I hadn’t dated much up until grade nine, I hadn’t gone further than first base (first base is kissing right?), but my budding sexuality was all a fire at the time and I had cravings like any other typical teenager. You’ll see how all this information fits together in a second.

The couple I mentioned where in this photo club of ours and one day the three of us found ourselves sharing the dark room. Dark rooms are magical places. Full of shadows, toxic liquids, and red lights: a true place of mystery and possibilities. I have to admit that I had been flirting with the male half of this “it” couple while in the dark room. “Accidentally” brushing against him in the small dark space, lingering touches, etc. Now, remember that his girlfriend was in there with us, but he didn’t seem to mind and neither did I.

I was just having a little fun (I was a real menace at that age)!

At some point in the developing process its necessary for the room to be completely dark, and in those few moments, the guy I was flirting with copped a feel. It happened so fast, but there was no mistaking it. He had “accidentally” felt me up. This was the first time my breast had ever been touched by anyone else but myself and possibly my doctor. I’m sure there’s a feminist somewhere who’s ready to call me a traitor, but the whole thing was thrilling. I might not react the same way today, if some strange dude tried to feel me up in a dark room. Then again, I suppose it all depends on the context. The fact that his girlfriend was standing right next to us added to the thrill. What can I say?  I’m bad, I know.

(Posted at Cuntlove)

This was originally posted at Clarisse Thorn: Pro-Sex Outreach, Open-Minded Feminism.

“Come back,” an S&M partner said softly, the other day, pushing my hair out of my eyes. I blinked and shook my head in a futile attempt to clear it.

“That’s weird,” I said. “Someone else used to say those words to me when I was coming out of subspace. I … that’s weird.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said. “It’s a natural thing to say to you. You go under so fast, and so deep. You’re so far away.”

“Not all the time,” I said. “And not with everyone. You’re good at putting me there.”

He smiled. “You bring it out in me.”

Subspace is so hard to describe. I’ve written about it before, in passing, in multiple posts, because it’s so important, but I’ve never come up with a good description for it; and when I Google for it I can see that other people have the same problem. When I’m starting to go into subspace it’s just soft and dark and slow. But when I’m really far under, I’m totally blank. Falling. Flying.

Somewhere else.

Come back.

What is it, where do I go? It’s just submissive, masochist headspace. But I don’t always get into subspace when I submit, and I don’t always get into it when I take pain either. I’m not sure what the other ingredients are: some amount of trust, of course. And strong feelings about my partner make everything more intense … way more intense. Orders of magnitude more intense. Still, I’ve had new partners put me under with surprising thoroughness.