I watched a great documentary out of the UK on the weekend.

It was called, you guessed it, The Perfect Vagina.

In The Perfect Vagina, Lisa Rogers goes on a mission to try and understand why labiaplasty, a surgery that shortens the length of the labia minora, is the fastest growing cosmetic sugery in the western world.

She speaks with surgens and with women who are considering the operation. However, the most disturbing part by far is when she follows a 16 year old girl while she has part of her vagina chopped off to look more like a porn star.

Let me say that again

A 16 year old girl!

The documentary itself is pretty revealing. So many women don't realize that pussy is as varried cock.

No two look alike.

Trust me I have seen a lot.

Yet due to puritanical beliefs about sex education too many girls grow up thinking that they are freaks because their vagina doesn't look like the ones they can find on the internet. Body awarness and apprication is not taught when it comes to our so called "private parts". This isn't even sex education, it just body education that we deny our kids.

Vanity really is my favorite sin.

I also think it is a necessary vice for any successful model.

Sunday night, seeing an opportunity to make a quick buck, my vanity and my ego received a very healthy, multi person stroking as I modeled for the store’s Nude Photography Workshop.

I am not a nude modeling virgin, hell lets face it these days there are very little things I am a virgin to but that’s not the point. Point is I have some experience with having my body, in all its decorated glory, photographed.

This, however, was my first gang photo shoot.

I arrived a little early and chatted casually about lingerie and lighting options while the workshop participants arrived. I was briefly introduced to each of them but there was no time for little more then names. Plus this night was not about me.
Not really.

There was eight men in total. Ranging in age from early 20s to late 50s. They adjusted their light settings and snapped test shots as the instructors described how the night would go. Round Robin. Each photographer getting there chance to direct my poses as the others snapped shots behind him.

Ammunition, Anaconda, Animal, Babymaker, Baguette, Banana, Bastard Sword, Battering Ram, Bayonette, Beast, Beef Suppository, Bishop, Bone, Bottle of Milk, Bratwurst, Bristly Love Wand, Bushwhacker, Candlestick, Cannon, Cave Dweller, Cherry popper, Cock, Cong, Crowbar, Cruise missile, Cucumber, Cum cannon, Dangly bit, Dark Lance, Dark Saber, Dick, Dick Tracey, Dicky Dido, Ding-a-Ling, Ding-Dong, Dong, Dork, Dr. Feelgood, Dr. Love’s Syringe, Dripstick, El Capitan, Eleventh finger, Enchanted sword, Fleshrocket, Flute, Frankenstein, Frankfurter, Fuck stick, Gearstick, General, Giant Redwood, Glowstick, Glue Gun, Handle, Heat Seeking Moisture Missile, Hose, Hot dog, Hot meat Injection, Hotrod, Instrument, John Thomas, Johnny, Johnson, Joystick, Knob, Lieutenant, Lightsabre, Linebreaker, Little bald man, Little man, Little Soldier, Littlejohn, Log, Lollipop, Lonely finger, Long John Silver, Love muscle, Love Salami, Love warrior, Lovewand, Lower Extremity, Magic Johnson, Magic wand, Magnum .45 , Major, Manhood, Mantool, Mantube, Me little fella, Meat, Member, Mini-me, Monkey, Mr. Big, Mr. Happy Times, Mr. Tinkle, Mr.

Oh yes, It was my turn.

So, I take my place on my knees in front of Oni and he just looked at me and rolled his eyes.

“What’s with the clothes?”

For some reason, perhaps the presence of a ex lover or the number of strangers in the room, I was feeling uncharacteristically shy and modest. Of course sometimes a gentle, prodding (pun totally intended), is all a girl needs and I quickly strip down to just a pair of fishnets and my black lace boy shorts.

Oni charges the Violet Wand and slowly starts to tickle his finger tips over my right breast. Small little electric shocks run over my skin sending shivers down my spine and goose bumps just about everywhere.

I giggle.

I can’t help it. The wand always does that to me. It is such an intense feeling. Deep and sharp and tingly all at the same time.

My giggling however just signals to the sadist in Oni that he doesn’t have the wand turned high enough. So he adjusts

He approaches my nipple with one finger. The spark jumps and so do I. I am not giggling anymore but I am still smiling. The sounds that come from me now are closer to a whimper then a laugh.

I went to a private play party on Saturday.

I was hanging out with a recently exed lover. We'd just hit a killer concert downtown and were stopping in late to a party in honor of a visiting photographer and Shibari artist friend. Considering this was the first time I had seen my date since we ended the sexual side of our relationship, going to such a sexually charged party could have been a very good recipe for awkward.

But it wasn't

And after some light socializing, we settled in cuddling on the couch and watched the scene that had been slowly unfolding in front of us since we entered the room.

The man of the hour, Oni, had just finished tying a beautiful young creature with short bobbed hair, to a chair. Rope was everywhere in intricate diamond patterns across her breasts and arms and even very thoughtfully placed ropes on either side of her labia. Each individual toe on her left foot was roped and pulled so that her knee came to her chest. Her other foot secured to the chair made her helplessly bound.

He even had rope blindfolding her eyes.

I am shocked that there is even still a debate surrounding this subject considering the over whelming amount of biological research that has supported the existence of a highly concentrated cluster of nerve tissue inside the vaginal wall.

British researchers have conducted what is in my opinion a very flawed study, the results of which point to nothing more then some women don not believe they have or more aptly are not really in touch with their G-spot.

The study surveyed 1,800 twins, asking the women if they believed they had a so called G-spot, a small area the size of a 20p coin on the front wall of your vagina that is sensitive to deep pressure?" (A 20p coin is about the size of a nickel.) Research claim the results show conclusively that the idea of a G-spot is subjective because 44% of those surveyed responded that they did not believe they had one, suggesting that the 56% who did where inventing the idea of a G-spot due to influence by media and popular culture.

Last Sunday we had our Staff Christmas dinner. As you can imagine a party for the staff of an adult boutique is a little racier then your average office holiday get together.

As 7 of us sat around lush pillows at a low lit table sipping wine little games of story telling began. The object of the game was to come up with the most interesting and sexiest story on what ever the given topic was. It was fun and titillating and definitely an interesting way to get to know your co-workers but I also found it personally very challenging.

Not because I don’t have any good stories to tell, but actually because I have too many. So many in fact, that I cease to find any of them all that interesting.

The first story topic was the most unusual or interesting place you’ve had sex. As flashes of my sexual history played in my head I struggled to find something that I considered unique or interesting.

In my last blog entry I mentioned my frustration with social and dating sites, even the kinky ones, this week, said frustration was highlighted for me.
In Neon.

I maintain a profile on Fetlife.com, this is not a specifically dating site, it is a social networking site geared towards the fetish community and it is great. I love the site itself, there are hundreds of intelligent discussion groups, easy interactivity and very open and inclusive profile fields.

One of my favorite features of the site is the ability to add more then one relationship to your relationship status. This allows poly people like me list all of their lovers, including the nature of my relationship to each, unlike Facebook, which allows an “open relationship” designation but only allows it to be with one person. I have witnessed first hand the drama this can cause when one partner is not listed because they may be more “secordary”, a term I personally despise, but that is a topic for another post.

I digress.

My problem comes not with the site, but with how strangers choose to contact me on the site.

I don’t do vanilla.
At least not during sex, I mean for ice cream it is okay, but with my sex I need a little more flavour. This is not to say that I can’t make love without leather, but I actually have to be in love and in a usually spontaneous moment of intensely and emotionally passionate connection with that person.

When I fuck, I want it kinky.

It really is a deal breaker for me. This makes dating difficult. It is an extremely curious thought to be sizing up an attractive person at a bar, party or even on the bus and think, “well sure they are cute…but will the beat me till I cry?”. Just try using that as an opener outside of a fetish club, trust me, it doesn’t work, unless your objective is to make them run in fear.

Fetish oriented clubs and parties should help this problem, yes? There I should be able to mingle with like minded and find someone that will bend to my tastes, or more aptly bend me to theirs.

The Taboo Sex Show opens in Vancouver this weekend and I think this will be the first year since it began that I actually don’t attend.

Over the years I have gone for mostly for professional reasons. Working booths for various adult stores I have worked for, helping friends promote their how to squirt and how to give a blow job video and most recently to promote my roller derby league, the Terminal City Roller Girls.

The latter leads me to part of the reasons that I am no longer enthusiastic about fighting through the crowds of thousands of horny suburban couples as they flock to The Vancouver Convention center. The Taboo show seems to every year be less about sex itself and more about all those other enterprises that have a found away to cash in on a loose affiliation with sex.