Archive | June 2012

Naked…or Nude: Does One Imply the Other?

I recently visited a Nude Beach, to be…well, naked.

From that statement alone, I am sure you are guessing that I felt very much “at home,” au natural.

You would be wrong.

It turns out that sharing space with a group in the Altogether wasn’t altogether comfortable…for me!

Surprised?

No one was more surprised than me when, after settling upon my beach blanket, I steadfastly refused to remove my bottoms feigning fear of: “burning my lady-parts.” Yeah, it sounded lame even to me, and I said it!

What the hell was wrong with me???

I tear my clothes off at a moments notice, as soon as I get home from work (or from anywhere)…at social events that call for it (and many that don’t). When I perform, I do so, most often, in the buffor do I?

Aside from my own home, when I am embracing a clothing-optional edict in social situations…am I ever really NAKED? Or am I (only) NUDE…?

Adorned with beads, feathers, sequins, a tan, heels, Pastease, hair, nails paint, muscles, oil, sparkles…I am not really completely NAKED…I honestly don’t even FEEL naked.

When I am nude…I feel clothed in purpose…and my purpose is to evoke and sustain your DESIRE.  

Perhaps that belief spurred this sudden moment of “shyness” at the nude beach…being seen as NAKED in another’s eye, without a purpose?!?

An esteemed friend Roberto Rodriguez (professor, writer, and fellow explorer into the “psyche of sex”…a true nymphobrainiac, if I may be so bold) shared the following musings on the subject:

“Moved on the occasion of the death of Bettie Page, a 1950s movie star and pin-up girl, Manohla Dargis (quoting art critic John Berger) reflected on the difference between nakedness and nudity:

‘To be naked is to oneself. To be nude is to be seen naked by others and yet not recognized for oneself.’

Not being recognized means there is more in store.
Nakedness is pretty straightforward. It is exposure. What you see is what you get.


The allure of nudity is subtler. What is concealed is equal to or greater than what is revealed. What you see is not what you get.

Partial revelation triggers temptation, seduction, the dance of desire. This is the principle of nudity. Even if what is revealed is the naked body, there is more than meets your eye. Nakedness, although seemingly so close to nudity, is in a way its opposite. Nakedness is our natural state, but it may show too much too soon, more than we want to see, destroying desire.

The principle of desire is that people want what they can’t have and, if they get what they want, they don’t really want it…Infinite desire, bored with completion, thrilling to the process, is fascinated with the partial revelation, the play of concealing and revealing described by the ever-tempting lure of the nude.” (Emphasis added)

So, it seems that when confronted with being truly Naked at the Nude Beach, I was overwhelmed by my own sense of purposelessness…of being naturally naked…of being myself, among others doing the same.

The experience taught me an important lesson, I am not as open, comfortable, or confident in my own skin as perhaps I believed…and this new knowledge challenges me to expand my ideas about nudity, desire, and most importantly (my) self.

I present the same challenge to you, to examine your beliefs around your body…naked. Because if we cannot be ourselves…in any (and every) state…then who are we?

xxx, c.

(My image was shot by MWild of ShutterbugBoudoir.com & Pastease.com supplied “wardrobe”)

New Artwork - ConchitaNyc

Reblogged from Minxinx:

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I've started doing "Mini You's " , which originally started as mini sketches of my outfits.

So I randomly picked a photo from one of my followers on instagram and came up with this sketch.

Here's a close up:

  • 2minxinx - Mini sketch of @conchitanyc .... Hope you like! Thanks for following.
  • conchitanyc  - this is great!!!! Your style is so unique & refined...with a great sense of humor!

Read more… 119 more words

I wanted to take a minute to introduce you to a like-minded and extremely talented young woman, an artist and fellow-blogger with a distinct attitude and style that embodies both sexiness AND strength! I think her self-introduction does her justice: "To keep things basic I have a big heart, a loud mouth, a passion to dance my troubles away and I’m painter, artist, whichever one you prefer. I have pushed myself to make the name Minxinx not only to stand out but to ‘wow’ you. Over the years this character has evolved into so much more. Being plastered on walls, canvases, bags, t- shirts, and naked women. Yes, a naked woman on a naked woman. So here I am, ready to move this forward. I am willing, driven, and most definitely in control… and no one can stop me." -- PLEASE CHECK OUT HER BLOG and support her artwork...which is ALL UP for sale! This is the artist with her work...which is pretty fantastic: She is currently doing a series called "Mini You" which she describes:

Lately I’ve been getting a lot of questions about the mini sketches I draw of my outfits. I’m getting many requests that you guys want your own. So of course I aim to please. I’ll charge a small fee of $5 for each. A tiny sketch, nothing fancy. Starting now if you would like to have your own mini-you all you have to do is this: * Email me at 2minxinx@gmail.com  * Include a picture of yourself from head to toe * Subject: Mini You I’ll respond with how to make the payment and I’ll get started right away! That simple!

Pretty cool, if you ask me...the humor in her style is contageous...I always find myself smiling when I look at one of her images!

HAPPY THRILLING THURSDAY...xxx c.

I Had Him “COLLARED”: Adventures from the Dungeon (II)

Michael was short in stature, almost stout; a muscular and attractive man in his 30’s. When I walked into the room he was already naked, which is not typical for clients. Typically, a client discusses what they would like to experience with their domina prior to disrobing. But, there he was, naked…on his knees…DOG COLLAR already donned…staring up at me with the palest, most innocent, blue eyes I have ever beheld.

“Good evening, Mistress.”

It was a typical greeting from slaves and to be honest while indulging in such intimate scenes with strangers, I enjoy the formality.

I knew the scenario with Michael.

He wanted a role-play where he was the “cuckold” (his word) and I was the diva-like Mistress who treated him like a dog (quite literally) and only allowed him to grovel at her feet…if he was very obedient.

Cuckold, defined: Historically referred to a man with an adulterous wife. Derives from the cuckoo bird, alluding to the alleged habit of the female bird in changing its mate frequently and authentic practice of laying its eggs in other nests within its community. In medieval literature, the “kukewold” was almost universally scorned instead of the adulterous wife, in a sense much like the 1980′s nerd (but without the intellectual ability), they were viewed as worthless due to their physical stature and somehow at fault for the adulterous act.

It was a unique scene, not because of the elements they were common enough, because of Michael and what he brought, of himself, to the scene.

As the session began he related the painful details of watching me, and my (imagined) boyfriend, have sex. Michael loved to demean himself, assuring me when prompted,

 “Oh no Mistress I could never have sex with you. You are too beautiful and powerful. And my cock is so small you would never want it.”

Of course these statements were relayed even as he “fed” me his true desires.

It was always interesting to me how, in the dungeon, we were the true servants enacting the slaves’ desires. It was their game, not ours. We only hit them as hard as they wanted. There were a few, of course, that after a time would surrender to you. I feel as if Michael could have become one of those had I sessioned with him over the course of time and built up trust (the foundation of all good dom-sub relationships).

Still, I enjoyed the freedom allowed even within his specific framework. I have always enjoyed a running dialogue with a well-engaged client and Michael’s banter was rich; he seemed to have no end to the ways in which he “snuck” and saw my well-endowed boyfriend and I make love…

“I saw you from the window. I know you told me I shouldn’t spy, but I couldn’t help but watch you two. You so beautiful and him so large…the way he ramped into you…the screams of your orgasm…”

He seemed to get lost in his own fantasy.

I have to admit his lengthy lascivious details turned me on during the session, combine that with foot worship that included a massage and it was rather satisfying for both parties, I would say.

Then would come the training.

Dog training.

Michael never wanted much physical punishment throughout the session, it was always much more about psychological dominance:

“That’s right My Pet, you are correct you will never touch or fuck me the way that he can and does because you are no better than a fucking dog! Now do as you’re told, down on the floor! Silence! If you obey perhaps I’ll let you touch…my feet!”

The exception was during training, when he would request light whipping and spanking as one might a dog–quite literally: dog-training.

We worked on, “sit,” and “stay,” and the room that we utilized what equipped with a cage large enough for a human which he would lay in for a time during the session, feigning reproach.

It tickled me when he would disobey, clearly desiring the repercussions.

And yet he embodied the wounded, damaged, wanting cuckold so well…I found it difficult to properly punish him.

I found myself wondering why this scenario? He enacted it many times with different mistresses with only slight variations on the main theme reported.

Had he been a cuckold? Had some former lover cheated on him, withholding her sexual favors, and stamping him forever with this unrequited desire? Was this self-inflected punishment for his homosexual desires (he was always very graphic when describing my lovers cock)?

These interpretations seemed far too simple. Rather I imagined this was more oedipal, whether or not Michael knew the origin, I don’t know…but those baby blue eyes always engendered a feeling of nurturing in me, as they stared-up “wanting” and “NOT wanting,” simultaneously…or rather believing to be undeserving.

I was his mother, the perfectly unattainable, task-mistress…allowing him to serve and titillate yet never really consummate or satisfy…the ultimate tease.

Even the way he came to orgasm was sad and appeared to be unfulfilling:

Rubbing against the floor, rather violently, at my feet…seemingly uncomfortable and truly desiring my touch.

As deviant as the scene sounds it’s also highly relatable.

I believe we all hold ideas and beliefs that keep us “collared,” if you will. Unrequited wishes and desires that must remain so, due to the shame or aberration we attach to them. Whether they are collars applied by society, our experience…ultimately they are constructed by us…we dictate our own restraints.

Don’t get me wrong…restraints can be good; necessary even…but sometimes it’s interesting to wonder about their origin and impact on us, and our relationships.

For instance, do you think Michael was able to find satisfaction WITHOUT HIS COLLAR? I do not…I think that’s why he returned to the dungeon to enact this scene so frequently:

He required the collar to attain pleasure. It was only through the act restraint that he found satisfaction.

But was there more?

Was Michael, in fact, keeping himself from experiencing real pleasure?

Is this so different from some of the emotional boundaries we erect in our own lives? Expressions of our desires held in check, collared, our expectations of fulfillment never quite reached, perhaps due to our less “acceptable” needs not ever being given thorough exploration?

This was me, in my 20’s…and only in my 30’s did I finally throw-off my collar…only to realize…maybe I enjoyed a different collar…not the emotional-sort …no, no…rather of the hard-leather and spike variety!

Isn’t it interesting how through deviance, we all too often get at the true desires and needs of the human soul?

Now…Don’t think I forgot about your TOYS! I knew Katerina’s Closet (click the hyper link below to go to the website) would have something for us, it is Thrilling Thursday after all and so I will offer you a Sex-Toy Treat:

This one was my pick…someone actually stole my last collar (shocking I know)

Fetish Fantasy Extreme Leash and Collar ($78.75 now $61.29)

Description: Take your pet play to the extreme with the Fetish Fantasy Extreme Heavy Duty Leash & Collar set. This industrial grade collar and leash is made from high-quality genuine leather and made to play hard. Have your submissive begging for more and obeying your every command! The thick metal chain connects to a metal clip, which connects to a solid metal D-ring. The collar attaches in the back with a leather strap and metal eyelets and buckle, ensuring your favorite pet won’t try to run away any time soon. One size fits most. Material: Leather

Until our next session…I hope you’ll take a look at your collar, maybe trade it in for a new less restraining variety, perhaps?

Now…bow down so I can leash you up!

Xxx

c.

All images are credited to ForTraDVD.com and M.Wild Photography

Allow Yourself to be Captured…XXX-Posed

Have you ever allowed your lover to photograph you?

If the answer is, “no,” then you should.

It’s not about looking like a centerfold or being shot on your “better side.”

It’s really not about your body.

It’s not even about YOU per say.

It’s about trust.

Being exposed to your partner, your lover:

The one who knows you in your most intimate moments, when you lose yourself to passion, to pain, to desire, to…THEM.

Why then, does this playful act often create so much anxiety, even in those of us self-professed exhibitionists?

It seems so much easier to snap self-portrait nudes, with our cell phone, than with our lover.

Why?

I think I have answered my own question, as so often is the case:

All too often it’s the ones we surrender the most to that we feel the most NAKED with.

With that reflection, that perhaps I needed more than you, I encourage you…(myself included)…to:

TAKE IT ALL OFF for a playful photo shoot with The One (or two, or three, etc.) who makes your heart race, the one you love so much that exposing your body to their “eye” is equivalent to baring your soul.

Why?

Because we ALL deserve to TRUST someone THAT much.

Now…get ready for your close-up…I’m coming over!

xxx c.

*Pastease* Knows How to Light up Your Night! (A Thrilling Thursday Post)

Last night I was Perusing my beautiful friend Stephanie Pastease’s Youtube channel (Sexy Fun 101) and discovered both a tit-illating (you know where that pun’s going) and entertaining new product:

Glow-in-the-Dark Pastease® breast pasties (on Sale for $6.99)

Now I have to say, the product itself is so ingenius, it defies description…it simply MUST be experienced!

(observe)

Mesmerizing is it not?

Yes, it is.

Aside from Stephanie’s infectious giggle…her bounce…does quite a lot for the mood! After a challenging day at work, we could all use a pair of glowing, vivacious breasts to make us feel at once happy-and-horny. There is just something about decorated nipples that ALWAYS makes me smile…

It sort of got me thinking…how great would it be it host a glow-in-the-dark no-pajama Pastease party?!?!

Who’s game?

I am, xxx c.

The Scent of a Lover

Last night I watched a darkly beautiful, and at times disturbing period film, “Perfume: The Story of a Murderer,” (2006)

And found the film brought up a few thoughts on the subject of smell, and how we have become a modern-day society that tries our hardest to erase what is our “natural scent.”

We deodorize, we perfume, we clip and shave hair, we oil, and we powder.

To be honest I engage in these beauty rituals, as well because I too, “don’t want to stink,” rather I want to, “smell good.”

It’s our culture, a culture of the overly groomed.

But I fear something essential has been lost in that behavior.

Have you ever smelled your lover early in the morning?

Before they’ve risen; put your nose right to the center of their chest, closed your eyes, and inhaled their fragrance.

I have.

It smells like nothing known. It smells like, THEM.

A person’s scent is as unique as their genetic code, their personality,

A person’s soul can be found in their smell.”

– The Perfume.

I breath you in and immediately smell fresh0cut wood,

an undertone of earthen, and the piquant sweetness of  your sweat

…It is DEEP…

It makes me feel closer to you,

as if through your scent I know all that is you,

your essence, your heart.

I remember paging through my parent’s, “The Joy of Sex,” when I was far too young to be reading anything of the such, maybe 10 or 11. And I came to a chapter addressing the senses: sight, touch, taste, hearing…it read that the most potent of the senses, when it came to sex, is:

the OLFACTORY, smell.

From a small child I LOVED smells, particularly bodily-smells…good and bad, I didn’t differentiate, as long as it was, well SMELLY! I often sniffed all parts of my body noticing the small differences in each limb…I inhaled deeply my mother’s scent…powder, perfume, an acrid sweeter smell that was her own….I loved that one the most. Her essence.

As I continued the chapter in, “The Joy of Sex,” the authors revealed that hair on the body had the distinct purpose of “trapping” ones own intimate fragrance, and when a lover inhaled your unique smell…their sexual responsiveness was immediately heightened.

Although the book was written in the 70’s and today’s body-trends dictate a hairless or excessively trimmed genital region, I still seek my lover’s scent…all over.

More often than not, when I am making love…I find myself inhaling:

Their scent, on my scent, on our scent.

It smells delicious…like desire, like passion, and sometimes…if you’re with the right personit smells like LOVE.

So, inhale deeply my friends…there is a smell for each and everyone one of us…even if it’s our own.

Xxx

c.

Genitalia: Look Weird, Feel (and Taste) Great — (NSFW – Naughty Post)

I may have blogged this before in fact I am almost sure I did, but in the absence of any original thoughts today perhaps I’ll delve back into older thoughts, that today feel pertinent and are certainly worth a re-analysis.

As many women do, I often receive pictures of men’s junk. Typically in an erect state, this disembodied member carries less-than-no sexual appeal to me.

(Women I think you can agree with me on this, even IF you have told HIM differently. Yes to it’s true men, hurting a man’s ego is a sin, we would prefer to lie…sometimes. I would say, some of you men do the same…as I think my pussy looks nothing like a “butterfly.”)

Am I to imagine myself impaled on your oh-so-swollen and gigantic phallus? Or fantasize about what it would be like thrust down my oh-so-slippery throat?

I KNOW you men imagine these things in great detail, it’s YOUR PENIS after all and it’s “fucking amazing” because of that fact…is it? I mean, isn’t it?!

Of course it is…

To YOU.

Men, we see it (genitalia) a bit differently.

Perhaps, or rather due to, society’s need to shame the female nether regions we women often enact hang-ups concerning genitalia—yours and ours.

We don’t particularly “like” the look of your junk (no worries many of us love the way it feels), and more often than that we don’t particularly “like” the look of OUR OWN JUNK (again no worries many of us love the way it tastes).

Why the discrepancy? Between how men and women view their own sex organs?

Why the self-pussy-hate?

Why don’t we love our oddly-colored-awkward folds with the same tenacity you men flout your lumpy-cylindrical-oft’ crooked-attached-to-octopus-balls genitalia with?

I’ll tell you why.

Because genitalia, men, women, animal, are ALL WEIRD looking. Not that weird is bad, it’s not…it’s damn functional, but we need to reach a middle ground here. How about this:

Men’s hard penises are not instant visual aphrodisiacs & women’s vaginas no not look like “butterflies.” Neither one is beautiful, or bad…BOTH ARE WEIRD.

Once I heard Sandra Bernhard in an interview say,

“Come on who are we kidding? All genitalia are unattractive! They look like sea anemone.”

I remember feeling indignant after the first half of that statement, and shaking my head in complete agreement upon hearing the second.

They are. They do!

So what are we to take from all of this?

Two things, I think:

1. I would like to receive fewer pictures of penises.

2. I would like to receive ANY pictures of vagina.

And I will start:

There…that should balance things out a bit!

(And Yes THAT IS ME, incidentally.)

NOW its your turn, ladies! I’m waiting!!

Xxx c.

Welcome to A FANTAS-MAGORIC EROTICA BLOG! (“RomancingAlix” is a BLOG w/HEAT)

Welcome to : http://romancingalix.wordpress.com

I wanted to take a moment to share with you an excellent blog that shares both tantalizing lit’ in addition to some smoking hot images!

JUST CLICK ON THE “Welcome” LINK ABOVE…AND LET YOUR FANTASIES TAKE OVER.

I hope you will explore and enjoy as much as I do!

xxx

c.