Author Archives: Jack Stratton
Let’s call her Amy.
I saw her every day. She was this cruel, beautiful, petulant, bossy little thing. I went over her house every day after school with my cousin.
Amy was my cousin’s best friend and she tolerated having me in her home because I told amusing jokes and because I was smart enough to figure things out that she and my cousin couldn’t. I could do things like talk people’s parents into things and fix their computers and so on.
Amy, of course, would never be seen with a chubby geeky boy like me. Plus we were the same age and obviously she could only date seniors, if not college boys. Still, I had some things she wanted, music, better notes from classes we shared, money to buy the silly things kids like, so she occasionally put on a smile and cuddled up to me and asked me nicely for things. That’s the way kids are.
Of late, since my play and my sex life have become both more varied and more plentiful, some of the particulars of my own sexuality have become more and more apparent.
Some of these things I’ve known for years, but haven’t really thought about in depth. In most situations these leanings and proclivities can be hidden by the normal dynamics of sex, especially casual sex, where every position and combination isn’t going to be attempted anyhow, so brevity aids omission or at least camouflage.
The dungeon. It’s cliché, I know. This kind of place was never part of my kink and really it still isn’t. The aesthetic is just all wrong. The leather and the stone and the seriousness of it all always seemed silly to me. I could never have imagened, let’s say four years ago, that this was a place I’d like to frequent. Then again, I do a lot of things now that I never would have imagined doing a few years ago.
Truth be told the way the place looked is important, certainly, but not vital to the games I wanted to play. I think of it like the library I go to, the one near my office. Twelve blocks away there is the most beautiful library in the city, possibly the country; the Main Branch of The New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street. It is huge, a marble monument to knowledge. It is atmospheric, with history and vast ceilings painted with murals. It’s epic, but you can’t borrow books from it unless you have special permission.
I can’t stop thinking. Over and over I am telling myself to let go. I’m telling myself to submit, but I really have no idea what that means in this context. I tell myself to relax while every fiber of my being tightens and closes up. Some instinct in me is forcing me to protect my center.
I’m tied to a chair, my wrists bound behind me with thin hemp rope and she is hovering above me; interrogator, torturer, top, woman, beauty. Those eyes are unwavering. I wouldn’t say they are cold, but they are certainly unnervingly calm and predatory. Those are the eyes that made me want to do this. Those eyes are studying me, figuring me out. Figuring out how to take me apart.
Title image by julio.garciah. CC BY-NC 2.0
We saw movies. That’s what we did. We saw movies and went to museums.
I met Elise when she briefly worked in my office. She was one of those girls who grew up rich, but Upper West Side rich, not Upper East Side rich. The difference was super-preppy private schools versus super-intellectual immersive savant schools. She went to the latter and left with a rich inner life and a love of art and music and books that most people had never heard of. That, and the inability to really connect with most anyone.
Every month on the second Tuesday at The Phoenix, 447 East 13th Street @ Avenue A, in the East Village of New York City. Doors open at 7:30pm, reading promptly at 8pm. FREE! But we will pass the hat for donations to the performers.
Here is the text from my reading on 6/8/2010
How I Found my Inner Butch
Hi, my name is Jack and I write about sex on the internet. We are a rare breed.
Title image by itsholly. CC BY-NC 2.0
She is a candy stranger. Perfect in the way someone you don’t know at all can be perfect. Her small breasts and her large hips and soft swell of an ass that seems nearly impossible on her tiny frame. Her thin waist and her wild hair. That exoticness that is so difficult for people to get right.
She is new to this, but she’ll do just fine. In fact, it’s hard to find regulars with an attitude so perfect for these games. Right for me, that is. Everyone wants something different from places like this. The Venn Diagrams of our emotional, physical and sexual wants. Cross-indexed by our needs.
In exploring BDSM in a variety of ways I found my base power position (top) relatively quickly. I like to be the one doing things, hitting, fucking, tying, commanding, humiliating, etc. The complexities of topping versus service topping and other mixed dynamics certainly came up later, but have never really concerned me. I feel like I am naturally toppy, especially in many of the relationships I have been in so far, but that’s not all I am. I contain multitudes and stuff, you know the deal.
Title image by Face It. CC BY-NC 2.0
The thing was, she was young. Very young. Certainly legal, but still, I really should have been ashamed of myself. I was a thirty-two year old man! It started out so simply though. She sent me a picture because I wrote something silly like, if a picture is worth a thousand words than a thousand words must be worth a picture.
KinkForAll is an ad-hoc educational unconference about the convergence of sexuality with the rest of life for anyone and everyone. It is 100% free and open to the public. Anyone with the desire to learn or with something to contribute is welcome and invited to participate.
Just a few reminders of a couple of things I’ve done lately that you can see/hear/read/download:
A couple of months ago I gave a presentation, that turned into two presentations, at KinkForAll DC. My first presentation was on Why Writing about Sex is Important and the other was entitles Slash: SUBTEXT = BUTT SEX.
I was Fleshbotted for the sixth time!
I was listed on the Manhattan Times Neighborhood Blogwatch! It’s kind of awesome that my vanilla neighborhood newspaper spotlighted kinky old me.
or Jack and Wendy Will Beat Your Ass You Until You Come
Trilby is a hypno-fetishist. Hypnosis has always been something I have been both interested in and conflicted about. I’m a skeptic. This isn’t just a statement about my not taking capital “T” Truths at face value, it is actually a philosophical and a political stance that greatly effects how I look at the world.
The things I’ve read about hypnosis were often inconclusive, ambivalent or simply too vague to verify.
I met Trilby a while ago and I was fascinated from our first conversation about hypnosis and specifically erotic hypnosis. The idea of controlling someone, specifically their sexual reactions, has always been one of my biggest kinks. Not to mention the fact that Trilby was bright, cute and hysterically funny.
Oh and just to destroy all respect anyone had for me, I give you… Harry Potter porn. Keep reading and you will see the slash.
Title: Bad Timing
Summary: Draco finds a diversion during summer vacation, but he is caught in a rather compromising position.
Pairings: Draco/Ginny, Draco/Ginny/Pansy, and Draco/Crabbe/Goyle
Rating: NC17 (Very graphic bits of sex)
Warning: Sex between 5th and 6th years! A not very hard to figure out twist ending!
I am writing up the notes from my two presentations at KinkForAll DC and while writing them I was looking around my hard drive and found some old fan fiction I wrote. I haven’t written any in a while and most of the old stuff I wrote was in a live journal that has since been thoroughly deleted.
Still, just to show that I am not talking completely from left field, here is a Buffy The Vampire Slayer story I wrote long long ago. It is Fem Slash, not pure Slash, but I will look around and see if I can find one of those somewhere, just to show that yes, Jack has written about boys fucking.