Fetish & Sex Scientist. Bizarre Ultra Vixen. Crash Test Mummy. Also a professional writer with a full-time househusband.

Fetish and teh sex

Heads up for a girly new sex toy dealer!

invisible vibe lolcat

invisible vibe lolcat

Just a quick one (fnar) to let the girly girls know about Pretty Little Sex Toys, an inoffensive new online sex toys & accessories store.

They’re very pink and feminine, with a compact ‘n’ bijou range of favourite classics instead of a huge warehouse full of alarming things you can’t identify at first glance.  If you like the idea of sex toys or gentle bondage play, but don’t want to have to trawl through loads of fetish gear / toys for men / “realistic” veiny fake cocks, then this is the site for you.

They’re polite enough that you could send even a fairly twitchy boyfriend there to buy you a gift, safe in the knowledge that he won’t think you’re replacing him with a high-tech fuck-robot, and he also won’t be able to buy you anything disappointingly tacky (like he easily could in, for example, Ann Summers).  Win-win.

If, however, you like your sex stuff freaky, filthy and fetish [huzzah!], then you might want to look elsewhere – more on that another day.

Image credit: Last NYC Hero

Design a sex toy, win £1000 AND get it made!

My favourite sexy shop LoveHoney is running its “Design A Sex Toy” competition again.  They’ve already facilitated the invention and production of the amazing Sqweel oral sex simulator for women, and now they’re looking for this year’s most innovative sex toy design from you.

I’ve hardly got time to even think about sex, let alone come up with drawings and descriptions of imaginary toys, so I’m relying on you rabble. Dream up something amazing. Design the toy you always wanted. Better yet, design the toy I always wanted. That way I can buy one when you win.

For those of you who, like me, aren’t going to get an entry in (fnar!) this year… if you’ve got any good ideas, share them in the comments section and maybe someone can turn them into a winning design.

If I could have anything designed for me, I think I’d go for some kind of sensory deprivation & restraint system built into a comfy sex lounger with uptilted ends and a soft but supportive midsection. Supple, black, shiny materials. Velvety facings. No leg restraints (I just don’t get on with them). Multi-position wrist cuffs and a few D-rings for hooking extra bits to. Loose accessories: blindfold (not an airline-freebie-style “eye mask”), earplugs, thick soft gloves, silk hood with a soft cuff around the neck. I like the classics.

You have your brief. Go, design, win! And when you do, call it the Machiavelli. ;-)


Online awesomeness

Things that have made me yay/lol/:-O/wtf/ha!/etc:

Giant clothes swap at Bigwardrobe.com.

Having Sex: It’s All in Your Head (Wired.com)
The neurochemistry of  shagging.

Warner Bros Sued for Pirating Anti Piracy Technology (The Escapist.com)
Raised a ha! and a bit of a lol.

Do we clamp the umbilical cord too soon? (ScienceDaily.com)
Evidence that clamping should be delayed in normal births to maximise transmission of stem cells, clotting factors and whatnot to the child.

Eat bacteria to boost brain power (NewScientist.com)
Playing in the dirt & eating mud makes you smarter. Official.


MI <3 teh hinterweb

Stuff I’ve appreciated while flailing around in the net:

Chimpanzees  Use Sex Tools (Physorg.com)
Male chimps attract attention by rustling dry leaves to get lady chimps to check out their erections.  Sound effects are woefully underused by human males in courting, IMO, except for farting, belching, and Eric Clapton (none of which work on me, sorry).

Facebook’s Gone Rogue; It’s Time for an Open Alternative  (Wired.com)
A critique of FB’s worrying privacy policies and user interface, and a call to action for open source developers.

BabycareAdvice.com Articles
Useful info for parents/carers.  The advice on this site is relatively sane and mostly evidence-based (or it tells you if there’s only anecdotal evidence).

Ways to Send Real Life Gifts via Twitter (Mashable.com)
Five services that can send a gift to a Twitter user whose address you don’t know.  Most useful in the UK is SendSocial.com, whose couriers will pick up and deliver packages to anyone as long as you have their email address or Twitter ID.

“Heart attack? Yellow card!” Nice one, ref… (Yahoo News)
Just because.


MI’s pregnant housework fetish shoot

With thanks to mum for the loan of her kitchen and her feather duster thingy…

Machiavelli Id by Brian Southam

Machiavelli Id by Brian Southam

These pics are from my second fetish shoot with Brian Southam (Brian2008 on modelling networks, should you want to look him up). They were taken just 4 days before I gave birth, and I’d already had another shoot earlier that day, hence me being proper knackered and wasting a few captures by looking half asleep.

Machiavelli Id by Brian Southam

Machiavelli Id by Brian Southam

Fortunately Brian’s one of the most easygoing togs I’ve worked with, so he pretended not to notice the huge dark circles under my eyes while I dusted, washed up, handcuffed myself to the fridge and tried to eat a Muller Crunch Corner one-handed.  Enjoy, fetish fans.

Machiavelli Id by Brian Southam

Machiavelli Id by Brian Southam


Santa baby…

(I’ve had Santa Baby stuck on continuous loop in my head for days now, even though I’ve been avoiding all shopping centres and other xmas venues.  To exorcise the muzakal demons, I’m writing my letter to Santa…)

* * * * * * *

Dear Fat Man, Hogfather, La Befana, Grandfather Frost, Jack the Pumpkin King, or whoever you are,

I may not have been a good girl all year, but I’ve been a pretty good bad girl.  And you have millions of small children sit on your lap, so who are you to judge?  This is some stuffs I want:

Subscriptions to Wired UK, Focus, or some other witty sci/tech type magazines.

A calendar.  The kind with big boxes for the days, so I can write appointments n stuff down for me, the Animal, and the baby when she gets here.  One with pretty pictures of trees, or celestial bodies, or megaliths or something.  I’ve got a couple of free promotional calendars from the likes of housing associations and midwifery teams stashed away, but it’s always nice to have a calendar that’s pleasing to look at – it makes writing down dental appointments etc less of a chore…

Good books, by which I mean interesting enough to read more than once.  Fictionwise, maybe something by Neal Stephenson or William Gibson, cos I’m old skool like that.  I’d say Sheri S. Tepper too, but I think I’ve read everything of hers that’s still in print.  For non-fiction, stuff about psychology/game theory/neuroscience, culture (popular or otherwise), and ancient history is always good.

Socks.  Unoriginal, but highly traditional.  And actually needed, cos my boot linings are torn ragged and the heels of all my socks have worn through.

Playthings: like some bondage tape, and one of those interesting-looking Wartenberg pinwheel things from Bondage Boutique.

Gadgetry, and other semi-pointless but nifty things.  I still love the Moon In My Room light, and I could do with something that cleans computer stuff like a mini hoover or that Cyber Clean goo.  In general, almost anything from Firebox will make me happy.

Food.  Nuts are always good, likewise dried fruit.  And gingerbread.   And jellybeans, especially Jelly Belly ones.  And those minty candy canes.  In fact, I’ve just discovered you can get Jelly Belly candy canes.  Not so keen on chocolate and biscuits, but I’ll still happily eat them cos, y’know, it’s festive and whatnot.

What else?  Things for the baby.  Timesavers.  Random surprise stuff that I never thought of (Mum’s good at those).  And, as Marilyn sings, cheques (“Sign your name on the line…”).

That’s all I can think of for this year.  Don’t get stuck in the chimney we haven’t got, and if you see any mince pies sitting around when you get here, they’re mine.

From Machiavelli Id, age 33 and 1/4.


Super Size Me

So I’m now 4-and-a-bit months pregnant, and it doesn’t really show yet.  To everyone else.  To me, there’s a huge difference already.  My waist is about 3 inches bigger than it used to be, my fitted clothes don’t fit, and the handspan gap between the bottom of my tops and the top of my bottoms (read that again if it didn’t make sense the first time) is leaving my belly cold in the lovely British greyness of impending winter.

More importantly, I have unfulfilled sartorial needs.  The party season is approaching, and I wanna rock the maternity fashion boat like a colicky infant’s cradle.  Tis well known that MI likes the shiny stuff, and there is little or no fetish maternity wear available off-the-peg.  My options appear to be limited to the following:

  1. Create a cocoon-skirt ensemble by wrapping myself in bondage tape.  This has the benefit of being relatively cheap, and adjustable in fit as I get bigger, but I have my reservations about using it for a party outfit in case some little grunt finds a loose end and unravels my outfit while I’m rooting through the breadsticks.
  2. Spend £250 to get a custom latex maternity dress made up for me by a kindly designer (thanks Kaori Matsubara for the offer), which in another 6 months will become obsolete since I don’t intend to get pregnant a second time. 
  3. Learn *very* quickly to make my own latex clothes, which means buying cutters, glues, solvents, patterns, and a whole heap of sheet latex to practise on before I can ever make my dream dress.  I did Google up the Making Latex Clothing blog by Latex Kitty, but I’m not convinced I could get up to the necessary standard in just a couple of months.
  4. Resort to PVC instead of latex.  Now I like PVC but really, it has its place and that place is on my ass.  It’s great for trousers and miniskirts, but shite for dresses and anything that you want to have a bit of drape or flow.  Plus, I haven’t seen any PVC maternity clothes for sale either so I’d still have to engage a designer or hack out my own…
  5. Wear stuff with DIY belly cut-outs to accommodate my bump.  OK, this would work in terms of fit, but did you read the part about the winter and the chill and the greyness?  It’d be a nifty look for the summer, but this is a winter pregnancy and it’s not gonna look so hot if my bump is mottled purple with cold.

I am at a hair-pulling, teeth-grinding loss.  Do I shell out for the custom latex and hope to recoup the cost by booking a few pregnant fetish fashion shoots?  Do I start trying to learn the art of latexery (new word?) only to find that the best I can manage is a wrinkly-seamed mess? Do I give up and wear a duvet from now until the birth (and possibly thereafter until the flab and postnatal depression have subsided)?  Grrrrr….

I don’t really expect anyone to have all the answers, but if you have anything helpful to offer then get in touch – my belly needs you!

***Mercenary Postscript:
Make a donation to the Shiny Things For Machiavelli Id fund and earn my undying gratitude :)


You can take the girl out of the torture chamber, but…

“I like to inflict happiness. If that means suffering, I assist.”

I said this to someone earlier today, and it snagged my thoughts for a while.

The notion of happiness as inflicted, implying an unwilling victim. The choice of “assist” [unspoken "...with"], rather than inflict, indulge, provide, or any other verb that only flows one way.  The phrasing, the sound of the sentences in my head, the way that voice came so naturally when the conversation turned to domination and submission, sadism and masochism.

To clarify, because I’m aware I may not have mentioned it before:

Once upon a time, a long long time ago, I was a professional dominatrix.  I did this because it paid well, and it sounded like less effort and trauma than working in a call centre.  I liked the shiny clothes that felt like armour, the accessories made of steel and black leather.  I was good at it. The words and mannerisms came easily, the psychological game was a ritual I found satisfying. The drive to mesmerise and torment my prey was instinctive.

I left that line of work more than a decade ago.  I don’t miss it. It was sad to go so unchallenged, to be left with nothing to push against, to know that any resistance I encountered was offered only with hopes that it would be overcome.

The instinct is still there, but the flavour of the game has changed.  I’m one half of a matched pair, as likely to be a happy little kitten as a prowling tigress.  My love is multifaceted, refractive, sparkling at the centre of a radiant spectrum of desires.  You can’t take the torture chamber out of the girl, but that doesn’t matter when you already have the key.