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Archive for April, 2009

I finally got the opportunity, if it can be so called, to watch Showgirls last night. My very limited knowledge of this movie was limited to 1. its being unstoppably awful, and 2. its being a cult classic, especially admired by the drag queen set. My boyfriend has a habit of having the TV on all the time – a habit I do not share – and decided to select this cinematic gem from On Demand to watch while we sat and did work.

My boyfriend’s wife and I sat there with our laptops, she cruising LiveJournal or FetLife, me attempting to write a very serious blog post about race play. But to no avail: however many times our jaws dropped at the incredible shitpile that is this film, however many snarky remarks we made about the Z-movie dialogue, we could not take our fucking eyes off this movie. It’s like a train wreck with tits. Lots and lots of tits.

I poked at my computer. I wrote some desultory emails and tried to find good news coverage of the Craigslist murder. But my eyes just kept wandering upward, to gaze once more on the marvel of horrid dancing, plastic nudity, and bad sex. It was mesmerizing.

I looked at IMDB just to get some info to write this review, and got sucked into the user comments. Some of my favorite lines:

“[I]t’s the kind of world where we, the audience, are expected to be emotionally invested in the trials and tribulations of a knife-wielding, doggy chow-eating, bipolar crack-whore with aspirations to radically improve her life by becoming a titty dancer.”

“If I remember correctly, Joe Esterhaus [sic] was paid a ridiculous amount of money for the screenplay for this film. As penance for creating this abomination, he should be required to wander the earth, giving money to anyone who sat through it.”

“I guess that Joe [Eszterhas] and I must have different ideas about female empowerment because his idea seems to be to portray women as hookers, strippers, killers and raging lesbian predators (anything outside those four categories and they’re fishfood). He apparently thinks that their best activities for empowerment are knives, lesbianism, sex for cash, violence and nasty sneers.”

That last quotation struck me especially, since I agree with the sentiment that creating female characters that are just as violent, vindictive, petty and power-hungry as the male characters does not a feminist movie make. However, I am curious about the complexity of the empowerment (or disempowerment) of sex workers, and the complicated yet ham-fisted way in which this film treats it. It’s one of my pet peeves when people – especially sex workers themselves – put sex work in a hierarchy of legitimacy: “Oh, I’m a dominatrix – I’d never be a prostitute, or, “She’s not a real domina, she’s just a stripper with a whip.” Well, what’s wrong with being a stripper, or a prostitute for that matter?

A good friend of mine, years ago, told me that if I was going to do this work, I’d have to accept that I was a sex worker. I tried on that moniker and found I didn’t mind it. While I personally would never be able to have “actual sex” for money, I respect those women and men who can and do. And I accept that what I do is a kind of sex for money, though I don’t have what the law calls sexual contact with my clients. For me to look down on strippers or escorts would be hypocrisy of the highest order.

This film, in the midst of all its other faults, manages to bungle this one as well. It attempts to glorify the main character’s goal to become a dancer (why she didn’t move to New York instead is a total mystery), and in spite of the horrid audition process, clearly sees dancing in a topless hotel show as a big step up from doing nude lapdances at a strip club. Yet the one thing the main character, Nomi, will not “stoop to” is whoring. When Gina Gershon (the only character in the whole damn thing with no illusions, and who plays her role with relish) tries to prove to Nomi that she is a whore – not because she literally has sex for money but because she sells her sexuality – she will have none of it. A nude lapdance to climax for $500 is one thing; fucking for cash is quite another.

Right.

Now granted, since the movie is so blantantly awful, it’s hard to tell exactly the point that is being made. That Nomi, in spite of being a sociopathic screwball who steps on everybody who gets in her way, is still redeemable because at least she doesn’t fuck for money? That she is actually a whore and that makes her, and everyone else in the film, part of a huge, corrupt, horrible industry? Or the old saw that every sex worker is actually a victim of a male-dominated system that seeks to chew up the best part of your life and them spit you out – to hell if you survive or not?

It’s kinda hard to tell.

But wait, there’s more.

– The rape scene. OMG the rape scene. I could forgive almost everything in this movie up to this point as over-the-top camp, complete with catfights, casual sexual harrassment, horrifying lapdances, and women throwing shiny marbles on the floor for fellow dancers to slip on. But when one of the only African-American characters in the movie, and possibly the only sympathetic character, gets brought to a room and gets beaten and gang-raped – and yes, we have to endure the entire scene – that’s where the whole thing falls off the cliff.

-The “eroticized” bad stuff. There is scene after scene in this movie where the corruption, misogyny, backstabbing and general horror of Vegas is meant to be revealed, in some sort of pastiche of the “corruption of the innocent in the name of fame” theme. The result of these scenes is doubleplusungood: first of all, each scene is played slow, for the greatest possible erotic effect. Witness the scene where the director tells Nomi to put ice on her nipples to make them perky for the dance number. The whole thing, meant to invoke disgust, succeeds admirably not by actually making it uncomfortable, but by attempting to eroticize the moment and yet managing to make it entirely unsexy.

Which brings me to my next point:

-The general unsexiness. Oh dear gods, is this movie the opposite of hot. Cold, clinically gyrating robot-girls. Ridiculous costumes. Horrific sex scenes. So much nudity that it loses all novelty and appeal. There is a continuous debate amidst the user comments on IMDB as to whether the movie is intentionally bad, intentionally funny, a satire, and so on. This is one instance in which I may agree: if you’re going to make a satire about the merciless world of Las Vegas showbiz, it might as well be completely unarousing.

There are a million more things I could say about how the idea that this is a depiction of female empowerment is a huge steaming pile of fail, how sad I was to see my secret boyfriend Kyle MacLachlan starring in this piece of trash, and how unfunny even some of the moments that were supposed to be funny were. But I don’t feel like wasting even more hours on this crap.

Instead I’ll just finish with the main thought I kept having every time the luminous Gina Gershon appeared on screen.

Now if only her character, instead of a creepy, predatorily bisexual “star” trying to drag a young fresh piece of meat down to her level, were actually a nurturing dominant woman seeking to mentor her replacement using the model of leather D/s…ooo, now that’s a movie I ‘d pay to watch. I’m just damn glad I didn’t lay out any money for this one.

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There’s a murderer trolling Craigslist for women offering massage, or so the pattern seems to show. He’s killed one in a hotel room and apparently robbed another at gunpoint.

Please ladies: be careful out there.

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I’ve got a new trampling clip up in several different formats at my clips store. Please to enjoy.

Next week there should be a new OTK spanking clip, and then if I can keep my videographer hoppin’, we’ll get many more clips up (I’m hoping for one new one per week) in the next few months.

Enjoy!

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It’s already Monday again, and time for your questions! The first is a short and sweet one, but a good topic.

How does one get into the pro-domme business?

To be honest, I have no idea. All I know is how I got into the pro domme business, if that’s not too flippant an answer. I can tell you a little about that, but it’s partially dependent on locale, market, density of population, etc. I can’t tell you, for instance, how a domina in a rural area got into it or how she keeps afloat, but I know several who do just that. What you’ll get from me is how someone with an excellent support structure started a small business in a major metro area.

I had planned on going pro for some time – I think it was ultimately two years between the time the idea was first suggested to me and when I saw my first client. During that time I did a lot of reading and a lot of hands-on training: learning the (literal) ropes, practicing my aim, taking classes on foot fetish and breathplay and humiliation and animal play and just about anything else I could find. Friends helped me out tremendously by giving me instruction and serving as practice dummies. (Aw, come on, quit whining – you’ve got another kidney!)

Probably the most important thing I did was to get a hold of local dommes. I looked them up and contacted a bunch of them – each one individually – about my interest. Some were not responsive; some were. Some I clicked with; some I didn’t. In the end I was blessed with the resources, minds and advice of two dominas I greatly respect, Lady J and Princess Kali. From inviting me to parties at which I could meet scene people and market my services, to finding me space to do sessions in, these two remarkable ladies helped me tremendously.

And the rest was just smoke and mirrors: get some sexy outfits, advertise on Craigslist until you have the means to build your own website (I also utilized Pandemos early on), screen screen screen your clients, and start seeing them.

There’s a lot more of course, about marketing and screening, and how to behave in a session, and making sure you know your state’s laws. But the most important step, I think, to doing anything is to research: read, and find people who do what you want to do and talk their ears off.

I’m a kinky single girl who is getting seriously tired of the vanilla boys on JDate, etc. I’ve tried a couple of the kinky online dating websites (collarme.com, alt.com, bondage.com), but I only get emails from:

1) Creepy old guys;
2) Dominate Men who Cannot Spell; and, most troublingly…
3) Guys I might conceivably like, but who insist on talking about my sex life faster than I’m ready to.

I’m a wildcat in the bedroom, but I’m shy about talking about it until I know the person a little! What’s the etiquette for a first date off a kinky website? Am I expected to talk about my sexual interests, or is it possible to just talk about everything else and shelve the sex talk for a few dates until I know I like the person out of the bedroom? Help, Delilah!

Well, this situation puts you in a little bit of a bind, if you’ll forgive the pun. Kinky dating sites are places where kinky people meet to date, and just as people who connect through their love of chess may start their interactions by chatting casually about strategy, people who connect through kink are likely to open with a kinky gambit.

That said, just because that’s the context doesn’t mean that you have to open up about your particular kink or sexuality more quickly than you are comfortable with. However, you need to cut the guys who are contacting you in that manner more slack: it’s the nature of a dance hall that people who approach you are going to ask you to dance before asking you about your favorite vacation spot.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from domming, it’s that you have to ignore a lot of chaff: feel free to delete the creepy guys and illiterates without a second glance. But if somebody seems nice and comes off a little more forward than you’d like, just ask them politely to back off. If you’re meeting up partially based on compatible kink interests on Fetlife or something like that, then you already know that he likes to do things that you like to have done to you, or vice-versa. What comes next is what comes next in any dating game: find out if you have chemistry. Tell him, “Listen, I really like to get to know someone a little bit first. Once we know whether we’d like to be kinky together, then we can talk about how we might do that.”

If you like the guy up front, be up front with him – firm, but not discouraging. If he doesn’t want to take the time to get to know you, then he’s not the type of guy you want to be knocking boots (or licking boots) with, anyway.

That’s it for this week! Remember: comment here or send your questions to delilah@dommedelilah.com !

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One of my astute readers pointed out, in response to my post yesterday about SexinChrist.com, that Dan Savage ran a contest just a couple of months ago to find a meaning for the word ‘saddlebacking.’ His purpose was to protest Rick Warren’s (pastor of Saddleback Church) inclusion in Obama’s inauguration; the man is apparently a right-wing homophobic freak.

The winner “by a gaping margin,” as Dan had it? “The phenomenon of Christian teens engaging in unprotected anal sex in order to preserve their virginities.”

Dan’s explication is awesome, too, so I thought I’d share it here so you don’t even have to clicky linky if you don’t want to:

Here’s why this definition is perfect: Saddlebacking, like barebacking, involves one person riding up on another’s backside. But in this case, it’s not the bare-naked cock-in-ass that’s the most important feature of the ride, but the fact that the person being ridden has been saddled—thanks to the efforts of the Rick Warrens of this world—with religious hang-ups and serious misconceptions about sex. Like the barebacker who casually tosses away his health—or his partner’s health—because he believes, quite erroneously, that “risky = sexy,” the saddlebacker offers up her ass because she believes, quite erroneously, that she can get fucked in the ass—vigorously, religiously—and still be considered a virgin on her wedding night.

Rest well, all you freaks. Have an excellent Friday night – and wear your condoms!

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Somebody please tell me that this is a joke.

While searching for links to the anal sex books I like for the other day’s post, I stumbled across (and barked my metaphysical shins against, and broke my brain upon) a site called Sex In Christ. Among the many things I experienced while looking at its various articles was a profound wish that I had studied the Bible more thoroughly so that I, too, could take Scripture out of context and use it to justify buttsex.

Among the many, many gems: “For a young woman who has never engaged in sexual intercourse, having anal sex allows her to preserve her virginity (i.e., maintain an intact hymen) until marriage. There is no greater gift that a bride can give than to offer her pure, unsullied maidenhead to her husband on their wedding night.”

Ah yes, my darling husband: having only allowed you to relentlessly plow my asshole and mouth with your huge yet still-virginal Christian member (except for the santorum that now sleeks its wood-like shaft, so reminiscent of the Cross on which Our Lord died for our sins), now, at last, on our wedding night, I can offer you my pure, unsullied maidenhead!

Are these people for serious? I mean, really, for reals? I thought the hypocrisy of fundamentalist Christianity knew limits, but apparently not. (Visit the previous link only if you’re curious about the awesome power of God’s “fist of might.”

No, really.)

My favorite, of course, is Bondage in Christ – BDSM in a Christian Marriage. Put your minds to rest, ye Christian soldiers who feel the weight of sin when you take your pleasure from beating your wife’s rear end raw with an incense censer. Before you suffer one more moment’s guilt at shoving the consecrated host up her ass, remember: “Just as we trust in the Lord in our submission to Him and willingly offer it, a wife who is submissive to her husband is offering a great spiritual gift and doing a great service for both herself and her husband.”

More importantly, “a man can adopt a submissive and servile role and allow his wife to dominate him sexually, if it is absolutely clear that outside of the bedroom, the husband is the spiritual head of the marriage.” Lest we forget that dominance in women is unnatural.

Oh, and unsurprisingly, threesomes are okay so long as there aren’t two guys involved, and so long as everyone maintains ‘natural sex roles.’ Just remember that those fags and bulldykes are still going to hell.

I’ve got a better idea. How about I make a movie called Bend Over Jeebus and see how that plays with the fundie crowd? Or, for a more discreet enjoyment of holiness, I propose the installation of The Baby Jesus Buttplug on every pew!

I think I need to go lie down. Maybe in a nun’s outfit.

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This past weekend’s video shoot was a smashing success, and I can’t wait to see the results. We shot with the voluptuous Madeline, who at nearly six feet tall with a stunning fall of naturally red hair is quite a match for me. (Good thing, too, since I happen to love her something terrible.) While she’s chiefly played the sub to me in the past, this time we let her flex her inner domme a bit, and she really shone.

We performed various tortures on a video slave I like.

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Be on the lookout for some harsh high-heel trampling with verbal humiliation, some shoe, boot, stocking and bare foot worship, dirty feet cleaning, panty and stocking washing (by mouth, of course), cigarette torture and glove fetish, and a good old-fashioned ass-kicking.

Torturing the slave boy was amusing; causing anguish and embarrassment to someone who loves it is entertaining and fulfilling to me, but can be somewhat tiring as well. By the end of it I generally feel drained and have sore feet, back and legs from walking around in heels all day. My creativity is tapped by improvising witty dialogue and focusing all of my energy onto the object of my torment. It’s the same reason I can only do four sessions a day, tops, without actually making myself sick: I take it seriously. I focus my energy. I pay attention, every second. And when the camera’s rolling, it’s just that many more things to pay attention to.

But for me, the coup de grace was the final scene, which Madeline and I shot together after the slave went home. I rediscovered, as I so often have the opportunity to do, what really turns my crank versus what I just find amusing.

First, I got my guy on a bit.

I got into some good old blue jeans and a Nasty Pig rubber belt. I wore a leather halter on top and some Diesel men’s briefs underneath, and I was packing with a leather harness and a nice slim cock that Vixen makes. I topped the whole thing off with a buttery leather racing jacket, and dressed my girl up in a floofy little skirt and tank top.

As soon as the camera started to roll I just did what came naturally: grabbed her by the hair, slammed her against the wall and kissed her, holding her nose shut with one hand. Pushed one thigh up between hers. Brought her to a chair and made her kneel down in front of me, told her to take my cock out and suck it, make it nice and wet and ready. She undid my belt and reached in, letting it spring free. Her beautiful mouth wrapped around that cock was heaven, and her enthusiasm plugged me right into it, made that cock mine. It wasn’t long before I was dripping underneath the base of it, all of that sexual energy running right through the silicone and into her. I grabbed her, reluctantly pulling her off of me, and made short work of her little lacy panties. Her sweet little cunt, tight and more bud-like than most, is covered with sweet red hairs, and inside it was wet and ready for me, as my black-gloved hand quickly found out.

I sat her down on top of me and let her rock.

I often lament how little really good lesbian porn there is: the mainstream stuff that’s labeled “lesbian” is all too often two pneumatic blondes with dragon-lady fingernails making me fear for each other’s shaved clits while they delicately finger each other and flick their tongues in each other’s general direction. The Crash Pad Series is so far my favorite answer to this problem, and I adore DarkPlay for lesbian BDSM. I hope that with this little video, and future clips I do with beautiful women, I can add to the collection and maybe give people more of a taste of what (some) real sex between women looks like.

I’ll let you know when it goes up.

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