News
July 9th, 2006
We have a new puppy named spankhut.org and we are movieng to a new domain spankhut.org
We have a new puppy named spankhut.org and we are movieng to a new domain spankhut.org
Sometimes I just need to suck.
Sucking is an innate mammalian reflex that arises from the primeval urge to survival. Fetuses in utero practice sucking to develop the muscles that will mean the difference between life and death when they finally latch on to the mother’s teat. Even in the topside world, the reflex persists, as babies, and baby animals like puppies and more, for all I know, soothe themselves to sleep with sucking.
When I crave that infantile comfort, when I’m tired or cranky, when I can neither relax nor concentrate, nothing calms me like sucking.
Put a nice big suckable cock in front of me and I’m one happy girl.
Let me get it all slippery first, with long bottom-to-top laps and lots of drool pooling from the tip down over the shaft, until it goes slickslickslick in my hand. Let me mouth the lobed head and tongue the spongy ridge. Let me mold the sculpted head into the curve of my palate with my tongue, stroking the underside with firm pressure and applying just the right amount of suction, working cheeks, tongue, and fist in tandem, suck-suck-suck until I feel it coming, rising, the spunk surging in waves up through the flesh under my fingers.
Let me hear you groan and sigh, Oh baby yes. Let me choose to take a mouthful of liquid heat or to watch you spurt and splatter up your belly, oh, that sweet pearly-creamy essence of man.
There. That’s much better. My jaw might be sore, but at least I can sleep now.
Yes, there have been huge changes in the bedroom chez DTG since this little odyssey of ours began.
Sex is no longer the perfunctory exercise it was for, dare I say, decades—-a duty on my part, and on his, an activity to release tension so that he could get to sleep.
It’s more of production now. Music, candles, and jasmine-scented oil, applied energetically enough back and front. Spanking so hard it makes me bite my lip so as not to protest. Blindfolds and wrist restraints. All sorts of cock-to-cunt positions, plenty of happy cock-sucking and some cunt-eating.
All good. All enormous improvements. The change in M is visible: there’s a spring in his step, a gleam in his eye. Although he won’t be doing anal or fucking my mouth or my mind anytime soon, he enjoys hints of kink, those chocolate curls sprinkled over his favourite vanilla. Spanking me even makes him hard when he’s not.
But here’s a new twist in the old problem: as we’ve experimented, I’ve learned a lot about myself. I’ve discovered that sexually, I’m a true submissive. Unlike other women who happily take a lead role in shaping their husband’s boudoir behaviour, I want to be led, pushed, and dragged kicking and screaming, into real kink—-the place where you both get turned upside down and shaken inside out and made into something new.
Trouble is, I haven’t a fibre of managing bitch in my being. I’m no longer content to shepherd my husband to this desired end. I took the lead eagerly enough at first in the hopes that he would eventually take some initiative, but he has yet to make one significant step forward on his own, to suggest new territory, to surprise me with a new toy or technique, or to try something that I haven’t explicitly asked or begged for, sometimes repeatedly. In short, there’s no sign he wants to do anything in bed but obey me and serve me.
Which might be fine for a Mistress Matisse, or even for the many women who apparently like to top from the bottom, but for a true submissive, it’s nothing short of a prescription for misery.

Unless you live under a rock, last week Apple released its new iPod that is capable of playing video in addition to playing music and viewing photos. The problem is that there is not really a lot of content for them. Sure there are are a few TV shows that you can pay to download episodes but thats what Tivo and VCRs are for. What is inevitable in the next few weeks is a news headline where some high schooler loads up his brand new iPod with porn only to be caught by a faculty member. The reason I won’t be the least bit shocked is because, love it or hate it, new technology is always fostered by adult entertainment.
The first content available for VHS and Beta was porn while the movie industry was suing the manufacturers over lost revenue from theatre ticket sales (seems funny now but it was true). Camcorders worked especially well for home made content. Photography is an even better example. The very first photographs, daguerreotypes, didn’t have negatives and were developed instantly. Porn was instantly one of the first applications for it. Even as the film and negative process replaced it, Polaroid was there to fill the void to stop the peering eyes of the drug store clerk. Digital cameras and camera phones brought porn to the digital era as a partner in crime to the Internet. Dial up internet companies thrived from the demand of slow loading pornography. Similarly, high speed Internet was driven to get the stuff faster and since it was spoofed by The Simpsons, you know it’s true. When the last iPod came out that could show photos on the screen, Playboy was right on it with iBod, chicks for your 2 inch screen. VoIP (for the less nerdy, telephone conversations over the Internet) was originally developed for internet sex chat lines. Don’t get me started on webcams, you can figure that one out on your own.
So why are all these things driven, at least in the beginning, by the indulgences of losers who live in their parents’ basements? Well the first is that people will pay for it. The other is that the demographics for the people who will have the new High Definition DVD players first and the HD porn to go with it are the same – young men.
So what is next? Well the model of selling back episodes of “Desperate Housewives” for $1.99 (not available in Canada of course) will just not work. Why do I want to watch an hour long show on a 2.5 inch screen? But what we will see soon is adult content catered for the iPod market and the parent groups will cry “what about the children” and no one will do anything and then the next time some bleeding edge technology comes out then you know who to blame but also thank for making it popular.