VibeReview Fantasy: The Iris

While my last VibeReview Fantasy was a whole-hearted endorsement, this week's toy review of the Iris is somewhat more subdued.

Now it has a number of really nice features. Unlike the Miracle Massager -- and this would be the only down side of the Miracle Massager and Attachment -- the Iris is made of phthalate-free silicone. As some of you may know, phthalate, a plasticizer, is a potential endocrine-disrupter (i.e. it fucks with your hormones and sex organs), and as someone with an endocrine system that doesn't work well already, it's nice to know that whatever I'm sticking into my cunt (or elsewhere) isn't going to make it glow.

It is also rechargeable, so no bothering with batteries (and my Iris was even charged right out of the package). It comes in an inconspicuous black box, so no one would guess that you're carrying something naughty in it. Lastly it also comes with a fancy black satin drawstring bag, so you can stick it in your suitcase or nightstand drawer in a most classy fashion.

As you can see from the picture, this is a toy primarily for vaginal penetration and in particular, G-spot titillation. After playing with the various settings, I popped it in and tried those settings out in my cunt. There are four types of vibrations: the crown, the base, intervals, and a combination of the crown and the base. To be honest, I found it difficult to change settings while it was in there. I would be trying to push down on the settings to change the vibrations but kept turning it off. Very frustrating. Then again, I never have managed to get the hang of texting on my (seldom used) cell phone.

I can't say the Iris did much for me, but then I'm realizing vaginal/G-spot stimulation doesn't do as much for me as it does for others. However there was one place I thought those pulsating vibrations just might feel pretty nice. Yes, you guessed it -- my ass (there's a reason A.'s first nickname for me was "Assgirl"). After covering the shaft with a condom to keep it clean, I lubed up (you'll have to read the fantasy to see what I used as lube) and slid it into my bummy hole. And yes, those pulsating vibrations felt very nice indeed, especially when I added my wankin' spankin' tool. I've only managed to come once from anal stimulation exclusively (ginger root and a paddle) and if used the Iris, my special lube, and the wankin' spankin' tool on the right night, I might be able to make that two.

But unless you're really into vaginal/G-spot stimulation, this toy just felt about $50 overpriced. It is a nice, quality toy, no question about it. Yet, the phthalate-free material and pulsating vibrations aside, call me a sex toy Neanderthal but it doesn't feel all that much different than my $15 vibrating dildo (which is pretty similar to The Freshman).

So how do I fantasize about this toy? Well...

I'd be a school girl in a very harsh boarding school. The buxom school matron comes into my room before I get ready for bed and tells me I'm to come with her to the headmaster's office. Grabbing me by the ear, she marches me down the corridors. Taps on the door and opens it after hearing an austere "Come in."

The headmaster is sitting at his large oak desk looking as grave and serious as a headmaster could ever look. Matron continues pulling my ear as we stand in front of that desk.

"Young lady, it has come to my attention that a certain lewd story was found in your desk." He opens a file folder, pulls out a couple of college-ruled pages defaced with blue ink and holds them up. "Did you write this?"

I gasp. I thought that I had carefully hidden it in my math book...How?...Why?...Oh, God...He read it.

I swallow hard before answering.

"Yes, Sir," barely audible before hanging my head.

"Right then. Remove your skirt and knickers and bend over the desk, please." The headmaster stands and walks over to a cupboard while I begin to unzip my skirt. As I lay it over a chair, I notice him pulling out a cane. I shiver as the cotton crotch of my knickers slide away from my cunt and down my legs. Is it because of the nighttime cold or the sounds of the cane slicing through the air as he practices his swing?

I assume my position over the desk, my breasts resting at the bottom of the file folder holding the "lewd story". Matron pulls what is left of my white blouse covering my bottom up and onto my back, then walks to the other side of the desk and holds my arms down. I purse my lips and stare at the blue button at the base of her belly in front of me, distracted for a moment when I notice a bulge in her right pocket.

"I must say, young lady," the headmaster begins, "that I have never in all my career been so disgusted by a piece of student creative writing. Not only does it contain fornication and all kinds of disgraceful acts of a sexual nature, but there is sodomy with items that should never enter a person."

I feel him align the cane with my cheeks as my face reddens from the lecture. The rattan feels smooth...for the moment.

"Tonight I intend to do my utmost to banish such shameful thoughts from your mind. I will begin with six strokes of the cane. Count them, please."

"Yes, Sir," I affirm meekly.

Did he say begin?

The first stroke comes down with full force and my mind is focused completely on the searing pain at the base of my ass. I can't help but try and tuck my pelvis in. I let out a cry and an anguished one.

My right leg comes up with the second stroke. After another wail, I spit out a two in between whimpers.

"Feet on the floor, please."

Tears and nausea accompany the third and fourth strokes. I manage to keep my feet on the floor by digging my knees into the front of the desk. Just two more to go, I tell myself. My eyes shut tight with the fifth stoke and my breathing mingles among sobs. Somehow between my queasy stomach and the awful, awful pain of six raw, angry stripes on my backside, I squeak out that finally six among my blubbering.

"Matron, please hand me the ointment you brought with you."

She releases my hands and reaches into her pocket. I lift my head up as she brings out a small container with "Cayenne Heat" on the label.

"Face down, please," the headmaster says. "Matron, please spread her cheeks."

Matron's large hands take hold of my battered cheeks, spreading them so far apart it almost hurts. I gasp and am still in shock as I feel my headmaster's finger laying a large glob of ointment on my anus. Within seconds I begin to feel the burn. The deep, seething, smoldering burn on my most intimate tissue. Buried beneath the bent-over Matron, all I can do is whimper.

"Since you like to write about having things placed in your anus, I shall indulge you."

I hear some buzzing. A couple of fingers find their way into my bummy hole. Suddenly the hard silicone shaft of the Iris is pushed inside me, radiating it's pulsations throughout my hole.

"Matron, please hold the Iris in place as I finish this young lady's punishment."

My eyes go from shut to wide in an instant. How could there possibly be more?

"To drive home my disgust of your prurient mind, I'm going to give you another twelve stokes with this tawse while the Iris makes it clear inside and out that deviant behavior such as yours will not be tolerated. You will, of course, count the strokes, please."

It all just seems too much. The buzzing and burning of my anus. The supple leather cutting into what had already been cut. The humiliation of my exposure. Of being spread and probed and entered. So many senses overloaded and spilling out into a puddle of agony and woe on the file folder beneath my face. Yet Matron's broadcloth-covered bust muffles my cries. At stroke seven the headmaster has to ask me to speak up. And I do, howling out my pain with the numbers.

When it is over, I'm allowed to dress and dismissed with yet another stern admonition to bridle my wild, carnal mind.

Of course, tonight's events have simply titillated my depraved imagination all the more...

************
Watching Barack Obama's speech reminds me that VibeReview is offering a 10% Obama coupon on all sex toys through the election.

Another reason to leave spanking for grown-ups only

A new study finds that minorities -- including Special Education students -- get paddled the most at school. My brother has Down Syndrome and the thought that any of his teachers would spank him or any of his classmates is abhorrent, as well as completely unreal.

And despite what spanking stories would have you believe, the study shows boys are three times more likely to get paddled than girls. But then, fictional school-girl spankings are so much better than real ones.

Our peculiar erotica

(Father Ted's diagram of reality vs. dreams)

It's common to read spanking stories at the soc.sexuality.spanking Usenet newsgroup. Amid the flame wars and off-topic discussions are stories where writers share their inner spanking life. Indeed now that it's summer, there is even a Short Story Contest to encourage posters and lurkers alike to write about the fetish in new and unique ways. And a good number of them do succeed in giving a fresh voice to what would seem like a fairly straightforward event.

But it struck me the other day after reading one story how very peculiar our form of erotica must be to the outside world. There was nothing about this story that was particularly extraordinary, though it certainly set off my spanko imagination. In it two girls are naughty and get spanked by their parents. The ages of the girls -- 9 and 4 -- are probably younger than the average spanking story, but certainly not unusual. The primary sex acts, if you will -- spanking and an enema -- were done to young (fictional) children.

When I look at it from that perspective, I feel like some sort of really sick fuck.

And, in fact, that is what a prosecutor from Pennsylvania thought about Karen Fletcher of Donora, Pennsylvania, who owned and operated the site, Red Rose Stories, which included fiction about rape and violence against children (hat tip to Zprymantis). Ms. Fletcher plead guilty (who was this woman's lawyer?!) to obscenity charges and is now serving a year of probation including six months of house arrest, confiscation of her computer, and a $1000 fine.

Is Debbie Ann Wertheim, the creator of Debporn, next?

While none of the stories I write include the rape of children, they do contain violence in the form of spanking. And don't even get me started on my incest fantasies. Is there all that much difference between me and Ms. Fletcher?

Fiction about children being spanked and abused can be so powerful, so erotic because so many of us began to fantasize about being spanked and abused when we were children. Sure, we didn't know what sex was -- just that it was a naughty word that made our parents turn the TV channel. But that doesn't mean we lacked sexuality. And as we grew up, our sexuality remained firmly rooted in and expressed itself though childhood.

However we never misunderstood the difference between our dreams and reality. Between real children and fictional ones.

Childhood and narrative have always been and mostly likely will remain at the core of my sex life. While every now and then my fantasies may wander to that of a Victorian prostitute or a demanding sex goddess, they always wander back to being a little girl. Even some of my topping fantasies include me as a child.

And yes, mixing children and sex is uncomfortable. But here in the real world, where the knowledge that our children are sexual beings can make our interaction with them messier, when we'd rather remain faithful to traditional taboos and constructions of sexless parents and chaste children, perhaps the best way we can help our own real and vulnerable children as they sort through their own sexuality is to help them understand the difference between fantasy and reality too.

VibeReview Fantasy: The Miracle Massager

About a month ago or so I mentioned that VibeReview, an online sex toy store, had approached me about reviewing their toys on my blog. The deal means I get to play with sex toys for free as well as a commission on toys bought by readers who go to their site through my blog (a fun way to help A. and I with his next plane ticket -- which we really need! -- if you feel too uncomfortable with all the personal information PayPal asks for -- not that you should ever worry as it always remains private).

Becoming a commercial whore does prick my conscience a bit, but I can promise that I will be truly honest regarding the toys I write about -- even if that makes you less likely to buy them and me less likely to get a commission off of them. I also promise that I will make my reviews as hot as possible by sharing a fantasy I have using whatever toy I'm reviewing.

For my inaugural review, I have chosen the Miracle Massager and it's handy Miracle Massager Attachment. I have to admit, I have not yet experienced the apparent wonder that is the Hitachi Magic Wand, but the Miracle Massager is apparently a lighter, more ergonomical-designed version. And like its 70s predecessor, it has a cord rather than batteries as its power-source. For those who are all about clitoral stimulation (:::raising my hand:::), this is definitely your toy as I don't know of anything that will vibrate your rosebud more.

But the attachment takes it to a whole new level by stimulating the clit and the G-spot at the same time without a lot of work on your part (something I love as, being as weak as I am, I often end up exhausted before I can even come). Indeed after putting the attachment on the head of the Miracle Massager, I positioned it with the base just inside my vagina (aka the G-spot) and the shorter nubbed platform on top of my clit and sat back in bed to watch the The Newshour. Yes, yes, I know. Not exactly porn (...or is it?). But I'd just received a big box of toys, and I was more curious than particularly horny. Lo and behold, fifteen minutes later I had one very nice orgasm. It was probably the least amount of work I've ever done in order to come. Except for maybe last Christmas Eve when A. gave me multiple orgasms servicing my cunt -- the only time I've ever had multiple Os. :::happy memory sigh::: Ah, yes. That was one magical night...

At any rate, while I can't say that Jim Lehrer or Gwen Eiffel do much for me (though A. has talked many times of spanking Judy Woodruff for being the worst interviewer ever), when I fantasize about the Miracle Massager and Attachment, it goes a little something like this:

I've just been spanked. A sort of pseudo-punishment spanking. A. dips his finger into my cunt. Swirls it around in a pool of arousal.

"What a naughty, dirty little slut you are," he says with that deliciously stern voice of his. "Getting wet from your punishment...disgraceful." And with that, a whole new punishment starts.

"But I didn't mean to be naughty," I pout between spanks. I love playing the good girl trying to preserve her modesty.

"Clearly you like being punished. And I bet you like showing off that naughty cunt of yours."

"No...no Sir," I shake my head. But to no avail. A. orders me up -- though I'm not to pull up my trousers and knickers. Orders me into the corner, where I stand listening to him rummaging around. It gets more and more slippery between my legs as I stare at the off-white paint.

"You may come out," he says. "Sit down on the bed." There amidst the flowers on the quilt I see the wooden spreader bar and satin restraints. "Naughty cunts like yours need to be shown off."

"No...please don't! I can't bear it. It's too embarrassing."

"Right ankle, please," is all A. says. Soon both ankles and both wrists are strapped to the bar as my back rests against the wall at the head of the bed. "Look at that view!" he exclaims.

I purse my lips together and blush as the cool air mingles with my juices, making my cunt feel even more exposed.

"I think I will give your cunt a little of what it likes so much,"A. states as he picks up his black leather belt.

They are soft strokes, but on my shaved, wet labia, the belt sticks ever so slightly after impact, exacerbating the sting. After several strokes he switches to whipping the backs of my thighs. Or is it the base of my ass? From that angle, it's difficult to tell. But one thing I do know is that it burns red hot.

"Naughty cunts need to be played with, don't they?" His question is rhetorical, but I know he wants an answer anyway.

"No, I don't want to be a bad girl," I plead.

"Oh, but I think you do," he says. He then picks up the Miracle Massager. Lifts up my shirt and yanks my right breast out of my bra. Squeezes my nipple hard. Turns the Miracle Massager on low and places the vibrating head on the nipple. My pelvic muscles instantly tighten in eager anticipation. But still I try to resist by squirming my torso.

"No...please..." I whimper.

"Stop that!" A. smacks my ass -- thighs? -- with a heavy hand, making me freeze with a yelp. He yanks out the other breast, giving it the same sort of treatment.

After a few minutes, he turns the Miracle Massager off and places the attachment on it's head. Slides it into the opening of my cunt. Turns the switch on low for a few seconds, then on high.

"This is what a naughty cunt like yours needs," he says with a smile. I can't help but smile too.

My whimpering soon turns to moaning. I can feel it coming. That wonderful, electrical burst spreading happiness to every cell of my body...

***

That's the sort of fantasy I have with this toy. Your mileage, of course, may vary.


Update: I forgot to mention that VibeReview has come out unabashedly for Barack Obama in this election and is offering a 10% off coupon though the election. And you don't have to be an Obama supporter to use it.

NSB's fourth birthday

As I stated in the last post, for this, my fourth blog birthday, I wanted to do a makeover. And so I have. It's not completely what I was anticipating it to look like, but Blogger has proved to be trickier than I thought, and my scanner just won't cooperate at all. A. drew the picture fairly plain as he thought it was going to turn out rather small once I uploaded it. But, alas, it's giant. So I'm afraid there will be further tinkering.

But let me just take this opportunity to say thank you for a wonderful four years. It's been yet another great year of spanking, with me exploring my toppy side a little more. Still lots of ups and downs health-wise (at the moment it's a little on the down side). Plenty of kinky musings and yes, even a bit of angsting here and there. I think this has been the year I've come to terms with the fact that I'm a sex blogger. I write about "fucking" and "my cunt" now in addition to spanking. And I've joined the wider sex blogosphere through Jane's Guide, as well as various top lists like Cunning Linguists.

In this next year, should you chose to continue stopping by, you'll still read about my spankings -- given and received -- as well as my thoughts on kink and life. I will be doing a bit of whoring myself out commercially (see Tuesday's post), though I promise it will be hot. And there will be more pictures, something A., having the testosterone content that he does, has long said he thought was lacking on this blog. Though neither of us were counting on the current picture on top being quite as giant as it is...

At any rate, here's to another year. Thanks so much for reading.

Update 8/11: I've removed the header picture until I can get it a bit more manageable.

One million and counting

Only five days before my four year blog anniversary, I've reached another benchmark. At 4:19 this afternoon -- Pacific Daylight Time -- someone in Copenhagen, Denmark was my one millionth visitor. He or she didn't hang around for long, at least not according to StatCounter. But a lot of you have and then came back for more. Thanks. I'm truly in awe.

And for my blog's fourth birthday, I'm going to be giving it a bit of a makeover. So be on the look out for a big change this Sunday.

'Tis the life indeed

A. is a big fan of Metafilter, a list of interesting links readers have found on the web each day. On a Saturday a few weeks back they had a link to vintage ads, including the one above for the 1944 movie This is the Life.

All I have to say to those girls salivating while awaiting their turn bent over the table (as well as the young man behind the guy with the paddle) is I'm next.

Oh and yeah, there is spanking in the movie. Richard Windsor has the clip in an assortment of spanking-in-film clips on YouTube.