First – this letter is going nowhere, until my daughter (and probably an edit for my son) reaches the age of leatherly consent.   Ie, when she’s an adult and I’m no longer freaking out about every boy she looks at.  (Thank God that only entails Justin Bieber, Thor and Superman right now.  Although she’s eyeing up Rainbow Dash, so maybe it’s a bi thing.  I would be okay with a human Rainbow Dash.   Just please God, not Rarity.) This is a letter that’s going to take me at least

Porsches are fast, but they suck gas like a whore when the rent’s due.   Mini-vans have great interior room, but they’re “conformist”.   Muscle cars look great and sound great – but you’ll have to do tons of maintenance.   Canes are tools.   So are paddles.   And spreader bars, and bondage furniture, and vibrators and all the other lovely toys we use in our lifestyle.   They have a specific use, a range of sensations they can cover, and a set lifetime.   See if you buy the ch

AKA – No, You Are Not Lord High Master Sparkly Britches I’m sorry.   This one has been coming for a while, and I keep taking it down to tame it.   To clean it up.   To get some of the ranty taste out of it.  Because I don’t want this to be a curse-filled rant (which it was), ripping new people a new orifice (which it did) for not knowing any better (which they don’t – mostly.) But seriously?    A 21-year-old who identifies as a Master, and identifies himself  as Master <NAME>

1. First Aid and CPR. At an event, at the very least, the DM and host should know basic first aid and CPR. (Most of them won’t, be aware.) If you intend to be a worthwhile Dominant, then YOU should know it too. And by “basic”, I don’t mean “we can haz bandajez?”. And by “know it”, I mean you should be an American Red Cross (or military/LEO, or similar organization) certified practitioner. As a former instructor (and once upon a time, a first responder) please believe me – the

(or how Cyber-Stalking Saved your Life) Today’s rant is brought to you by the folks who have emailed me asking me how vetting works, and how they can start vetting play partners and other groups.    When I first wrote about Vetting, I assumed that it was common sense.   I ranted blindly (or without my contacts on, anyway) about how everyone should be Vetting their partners, parties, and penis-pin-cushions.    It flew over my (surprisingly tall) head that I once had to be taug