I'm re-running the stories that serve as deep background for EXPLORATIONS. The story continues from this post, last week.
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That summer of anal love was also our most intense time of porn-watching. In EXPLORATIONS I mention the Eastern European spanking videos, but they were just the tip of the iceberg. If it had "anal" in the title, we watched it. If it had "school" in the title, we watched it. Among other things, we decided we would identify a canon of porn (being good lit majors) and watch all of it. I don't know how much older porn you've watched, reader, but it's really pretty remarkable how much porn has changed over the years. Boogie Nights only covers the broadest aspect of this change. The Mitchell Brothers stuff retains some of its hotness, to be sure, but the attempts to make things like The Devil in Miss Jones and Behind the Green Door profound are really kind of embarrassing in the modern context.
Also, I know all the arguments about how porn used to be so feminist and now it's so misogynistic, but when you compare, say, Emmanuelle to any fairly-well-produced amateur video these days, there's a truly astounding hotness differential in favor of the amateurs that's rather hard to explain without saying either that tastes in porn change as fast as tastes in comedy, if not faster, or that people got better at putting sex on film with the intent to get other people off. And as a girl who's elected to shave for D/s reasons (that is, baldly put [as it were], for reasons of hotness), I understand what old-guard feminists and their devotees are saying about shaving, but, come on. Porn is about hotness; it doesn't claim to be doing anything else. If you can't see why a shaved pussy is hotter than a shaggy one, you're unconventional, blind, or lying. Plus, as I'm pretty sure I'll go into in a future book of EXPLORATIONS, female genital depilation is attested on ancient Greek vases, for goodness' sake, not to mention the work of Blessed Pauline Réage.
Anyway. Watching porn with someone you love, who shares your kinks, is fun. As I note in Emily, Ravished by Porn, we tried to synchronize sex to what we were watching a couple of times, but that never worked well. What worked was both of us masturbating, and watching each other masturbate.
Sometimes I'd formally request permission to touch myself; that could be diverting, because Charles would generally deny permission, and make me wear my collar and cuffs and watch him jerking off, my pussy aching with the need to be touched as I desperately squeezed my thighs together; then he'd suddenly get on his knees at the beginning of some terrible caning scene and take my own knees on his shoulders so that I was fully served up for his lips and tongue, and say, "Don't take your eyes off the screen," and go down on me until my screams mingled with the screams of the poor victim in the video.
More often we'd put the BDSM structure aside and just sit there on the couch next to each other, jerking off. It wasn't elaborate, but I have to say it was the best. Watching Charles give himself an orgasm--watching him trust me so much that he let me watch him giving himself an orgasm--will always be in my top five list of things I want to see in my mind's eye when they ring my curtain down.
As a thinking submissive who's been consuming erotica and porn and everything in between since the age of thirteen, it's occurred to me many times that there's an inherent D/s dialectic in the production and consumption of erotic material--visual erotic material above all. In particular, having had some training in film theory in my lit days, visual porn confirms for me beyond a shadow of a doubt that at least for a girl raised in Western culture, the gaze is gendered male. As a submissive, lucky me: one of my unfailing turn-ons is watching myself play with myself in a mirror, as if it were a video.
I know I get monotonous about Story of O, but if you want to see what I mean, there's no better passage to cite than the moment when O, being prepared for her first use at Roissy, catches sight of herself in the doubled mirrors that render her infinitely submissive to the eyes, and cocks, of her masters.
Watching porn with Charles, then, is like a perfect self-contained BDSM scene: sitting on the couch watching girls get fucked and spanked and watching Charles jerk off as he watches, too, is Charles saying to me "You need fucking and spanking, too, you bad girl, and you're going to get it, just like those bad girls on the screen."
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