Femdomart.ru and the Wayback Machine

Check it out – go straight to the  front page!

Or the Archives!

Or, read on…

You remember Femdomart.ru, right? The Russian site with almost every conceivable piece of femdom art on there? It came and went in just under four years (Mar 2004-Feb 2008), leaving behind a host of broken links and a pretty big hole in the femdom internet landscape. Lots of other collections out there have tried to put it all together but this was the real thing, thorough, well organised and totally free.

This chart (which I have forgotten where I got it from) shows daily reach per million in the site’s final year. You can see the escalating popularity just before it went down…

graph

So, what happened…? Four pages list details on the sites history and ownership:

From these, it’s possible to discern that the owner was a guy called Vyatcheslav G. Vasiliev, who has it parked until the middle of next year with a German domain company called Sedo…and that’s really about all. No sign of a comeback from our friend Vyatcheslav any time soon, as far as I am aware.

But all is not lost! In fact, very little of the site has escaped the archivers. Thanks to the wonders of the Internet Wayback Machine, you can go can take a look at Femdomart.ru on the day it was launched, the day it was taken offline and about eighty other days in between.

The front page!

The Archives!

(Hint: even if you can’t seem the thumbnail images, click on the image sign and it may appear in a new window.)

Just to prove it…

.12_jpg

Happy New Year.

Steve Mayhew.

Chastity Dreams

Both Michelle and I have had dreams about my chastity lately. I guess it’s a sign of how much it has filtered down into our subconscious minds. (It’s been several years now since we started experimenting with periods of it, and about six months since I started doing it full time, with only the occassional release.)

My own dream was a fairly banal semi-nightmare about making socially awkward comments about my own chastity, in front of family members who would never relate to it in a million years. I can’t remember any of them except the last one, which was “Chastity under God!”. For some strange reason I yelled this out in a lounge room full of people who all suddenly realised I wasn’t really joking. Obviously it was extremely embarrsing for all concerned, especially with the added religious element, and I woke up shortly afterwards thinking “Oh thank fucking Christ that didn’t actually happen.”

Anyway. Michelle spoke to me the following morning and informed me that she had also had a dream about my chastity.

“Honey, I dreamed last night that you confessed to me that you had been masturbating and spraying spoof everywhere.” (Her exact words). “You haven’t really been doing that have you?” She sounds worried, like she thinks it might be her subconscious revealing to her what she had sensed, but didn’t want to admit to herself.

“No,” I say.

She’s sitting up in bed, all blue eyes, enourmous breasts and dark hair tousled from sleep. It’s nice to be able to tell the truth and not disappoint her…

“No, I haven’t.”

“Good. I would have been cross. Now, you mentioned something about coffee and toast.”

Ah, bliss.

By the way, this blog is officially back to the live action. The net is on and the house is liveable, and I’ll be back on about the 27th with another femdom art post.

Steve.

Is this the real life?

Or is this just fantasy?

(Oh, Freddie!!!)

Ahem. I’ve been going through one of those phases lately where I’ve been wondering if this whole D/s thing is actually for real or not.  Here’s a peek at both perpectives.

This is me in a doubtful frame of mind:

I guess technically you could say we’ve finished our move, in the sense that we are no longer actually moving, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t gaping holes in the fabric of daily life. Internet still isn’t on at home, house is a pigsty, several rooms are full of boxes, and there’s just no system to anything, it’s all too new.  We’ve been talking about finances and logistics more than anything else, and squabbling a fair bit. Not sexy.

One thing that has changed is that I am now at work while Michelle is at home. So, while I’m out working, she’s either at home or out spending money. But this would be a lot sexier if she was out buying herself clothes rather than things like new wardrobe doors – she’s as busy as I am, just with getting things in order. Not sexy.

All in all it’s been a low point for us as a D/s couple and as a couple generally, and we’ve been having a lot less sex than before. I guess D/s is a pretty high energy state for a relationship, and when life makes other demands, it just gets put on hold. But…for how long?

This is me in a more reflective, realistic frame of mind:

 Hold on…despite the fact that there’s not really been much in the way of overt domination on a day-to-day basis, the following things are still true:

  • Michelle refuses to let me come most of the time. I only get to come when I’m inside her and she wants to feel it at the same time as she comes.
  • I am doing nearly all the laundry, dishes, gardening and so on. I end up doing it because she doesn’t do it, and then when I get home it’s all there for me to do. She does the cooking, but has said that when she gets sick of it, I can do it in the evenings.
  • She’s quite happy to take control of the household finanaces and spend extra money on herself whenever she feels like it…

So maybe we haven’t lapsed nearly as much as I think we have. Instead, what is happening is that I am starting to get used to things, and take them for granted. Staying chaste no longer seems like a Herculean effort, it’s just normal, and doing her bidding no longer seems unusual either. I’m just not seeing that the basic D/s patterm is still there unless I step back from our life and take a proper look at what is going on.  Then I realise everything is fine.

So overall, I’m not feeling too worried about any of this. A few years ago I would have probably responded by voicing concerns that Michelle ‘wasn’t being dominant enough’ or something, but now I think I know better. She’ll find her way back into it, in her own time. It can’t be high energy all the time…

I think we’ll struggle through til New Year and then 2009 is going to be awesome. That’s what I think.

On the subject of this blog:

 As I said, the ‘internet’ in our house at present consists of a tangled heap of cables and a lot of swearing and minor tantrums. So this blog will continue to progress at a very slow pace until that gets sorted, as I can’t post on it from work.

The only thing that has happened here of any note during my absence is that I have been discovered by a character known as Thumper, whose blog you should definitely check if you can see the funny side to male submission and denial.

Oh, and Vanessa  from www.fetishfurniturefactory.com has asked me to check out her new instructions for building your own queening chair. There’s a post I’m looking forward to writing. Maybe next week…

Steve.

The Wizard

(Another draft, posted from a cafe, til I get set up again…)

So, speaking of orgasms, every once in a while Michelle has a really big one, a real mother-of-all, and afterwards we joke about giving it a name, so we can remember it better. Normally we don’t actually do it, but there’s no time like the present, so I’m going name one particular orgasm, earlier this year, after the position we used to achieve it. Here’s the story.

Michelle tells me that when she was much younger, like about nine or ten, she had pre-sexual fantasies about being tied up and operated or experimented on by scientists and ‘wizards’. In her fantasy, her body would be strung out on some kind of rack or net, and she would be touched and manipulated by intelligent and careful male figures. The scene was played out on various dolls for a year or two before the phase passed.

While she no longer has a trace of interest in being tied up, she still likes sex positions that remind her of that feeling of abandoned powerlessness, coupled with the feeling of being attended to by careful males, that she subconsciously craved as a girl. The position that does it for her the best we have now dubbed ‘the wizard position.’

The ‘wizard position’ is me on my back, and her lying on top of me facing upward, so that her bottom presses into my stomach and I can enter her from behind and below. Once she’s nice and wet (often from having me lick her or tease her for a while), I can enter her fully. Then she can totally relax, placing nearly all her weight on me. Basically it looks like this, except her legs are spread wider, my knees are raised a bit higher to get a piston going, and I am fully inside of her. (Also, she wouldn’t dream of shaving. Too much hassle.)

Source: www.sex-techniques-and-positions.com

The first few times we tried this totally blew her mind. “Steven, that was amazing. I was born to do that,” she said one time. She’s not normally prone to flights of rhetorical fancy about sex (she’d rather just have it), so when she said that, I gathered that she must really like it. We’ve made it a regular part of the diet since.

On one particular occasion, earlier this year, the delicious Michelle was ovulating, horny and really feeling like some high-level attention. After we’d finished dinner and watched TV for a while, she took my by the hand and led me down to the bedroom.

Once there, she told me to lie down on my back. I thought she was probably going to jump on me and fuck me, but instead she went 34.5 with me for a while. That’s like 69, except that while I lick her, she just giggles at my cock while it flaps around like a desperate windsock, and occasionally gives it a gentle pat.

After about five minutes my whole lower face was glistening wet, and she was ready. She made me roll on a condom, then she lowered herself down onto me and lay back languidly, her back resting on my chest, and her arms up above her head. She didn’t move again much for about the next twenty minutes.

I used my legs like pistons to fuck her at a medium pace. She insisted on having her clitoris rubbed gently and teasingly while I did it, and she was soon sopping wet, and grinding her hips and bottom down into my stomach, squashing all the breath out of me.

“Ugh. I…can’t…breath much,” I said. (This position is genuinely uncomfortable for me. She’s quite a big girl, praise the Lord).

“It’s… all for a good cause,” she managed, before she started moaning again. I am such a hopeless slave to her sexuality that the thought of being used like that made me even harder inside her and she started whimpering with pleasure.

All the while, my left hand was roaming freely over the front of her body, stroking her stomach, gently pressing her breasts up from below, just how she likes, and smoothing her sides and armpits. I could tell every time I touched her just right because her pussy clenched up wildly and she started arching her back and dropping the back of her head down onto my face.

In response, I kissed her on the back of the neck, gently bit her shoulders, and told her how much I adore her.

“Oh, It feels so amazing,” she said. Normally she doesn’t talk that much during sex other than than to ask for things, so I’m delighted. She’s so wet now there’s a slick of moisture all over her upper thighs and all the way down into the crack of her bottom. My balls are sopping, and there’s even moisture on parts of my upper thighs too. If she was on the bottom there was be a large wet spot on the sheet. As it is, it’s on me.

Incredibly turned on, I start pistoning harder, my legs working away to keep my cock moving easily in and out of her, and pushing down a little harder on her clit now, timing the strokes with the thrusts of my hips. I bite her on the shoulders, a little harder, still whispering to her that I adore her. And I do.

Finally she comes.

To begin with, her orgasm is not that different from the long, shuddering phases of the rising plateau that she’s been slowly climbing for the last five minutes. She stops breathing, her whole body goes rigid and her face goes a darker shade of red.

But this time, it just doesn’t stop. She holds her breath for a remarkably long time, then all of a sudden there is a series of sharp, intense spams in her pussy and she makes two long, earthy grunts that I’m sure the upstairs neighbor can probably hear. After about ten seconds of writhing and shaking, she’s falling back down onto me, limp and gasping for breath. She lies there for a minute or two and then rolls off onto her back. She already looks dozy.

My erection has died away a bit from having been in the pussy-vice, but the smell coming from her is soon enough to make it rock hard again. When she sees it standing to attention, she gives me a smile and says lazily:

“You can fuck me for a bit more if you like. But no coming. OK sweetie?”

I fuck her gently while she floats around on a dreamy sea of post-orgasm hormones, then I stop and lie there next to her, just glad to be near her as she drifts off to sleep.

Next day, I inform her that while I enjoyed it a great deal, the wizard position itself is very uncomfortable for me. I confess, I did this entirely so that I could hear her selfish response. I was not disappointed.

“It’s not about you. It’s about my cunt,” she said.

Oh, joy.

So anyway, that was ‘the wizard.’ There have been quite a few others that were almost as good in the same position, but that one was a real cracker.