This, ladies and gentlemen, is what arrived. Medium. I’ll just let that sink in for a moment…

One of the really cool things about Bad Dragon is how customisable their products are- you can get practically any colourway you want, though fancy custom colours do come at a premium. I opted for glow-in-the-dark because… well, just because. I asked for a black highlight, hoping to get something akin to one I’d seen on the forums. The highlight (or would it be a lowlight in this case?) on mine is less pronounced, and hard to capture in photographs, but it’s there and it’s rather pretty. They’re not kidding around with their glow-in-the-dark silicone either. This thing GLOWS. I thought that the Cosmic Bear lube was bright, but this- this I could see glowing even on a bright sunny day when I set it’s box in the footwell of the passenger seat in my car!

The other manner in which Bad Dragon toys can be tailor-made which is of interest to me is that they offer four different shore strengths (what is often slightly inaccurately referred to as “densities”) on their silicone: #1 “extra soft” or “female firmness”, #3 “soft”, #5 “medium” or “normal”, and #8 “firm”. I seem to recall from days of yore that they may have offered more in the early days, which might explain the weird number system. I’m not 100% sure on that one. You can order samples of their silicones if you’re not sure what firmness you want for your toy, and they are known to include one of random selection as gratis in with shipments. I requested all three (they don’t seem to offer their #1 firmness even in samples, which is unfortunate), and here’s my assessment of where Bad Dragon silicone falls amongst other silicones you may be familiar with:

• Tantus standard
• Tantus O2 (overall)
• Bad Dragon #8
• Vixen standard silicone
• Tantus supersoft silicone
• Bad Dragon #5
• Vixen VixSkin (overall)
• Bad Dragon #3
• Vixen VixSkin (exterior only)

Some toys are available in what they call a “split”, where the shaft and the base of the toy are two different firmnesses. While they do not advertise doing toys with a firmer core and softer exterior, it is something you can custom request, though not all toys work with this. I did request that mine be cored, and I now understand why it’s not something they normally do. You really can’t tell that the toy is two different firmnesses. I even emailed them after I got my toy, to make sure that it had indeed been made to the specs I’d requested. With how soft their silicones are across the board, even a cored toy is pretty flexible. Not at all the range of difference that you find in things like Tantus’ O2 line or Vixen’s VixSkin.

The low shore strength of the Bad Dragon silicone combined with the design of the toy make Crackers less useful that I’d been hoping. Something I’ve noticed with a lot of Bad Dragon designs is that they seem very much created with the “apply self to toy” method of use rather than the “apply toy to self” method. Very large, weighty bases (often with suction cup features ((The Bad Dragon suction cups are seriously strong, don’t be fooled. I accidentally pulled the entire top piece of glass off a retail display case with mine, when showing it off to some friends. These things are doozies.))) which are impossible to harness and incredibly difficult to grip for solo-use. I’m not one to park my toys on a surface to use them- I like to lie back and stuff things into me that way. Unfortunately for me, the combination of the oversized Bad Dragon base and the taper near the end of the shaft on Crackers makes getting it into me cumbersome and tricky. Feels a little bit like trying to have anal sex with a semi-flaccid penis- you try to get it in but it just skitters away from the target.

I do find that using a condom over Crackers helps a bit once I manage to wrangle it in, reduces the friction I get from the 3D printing texture which Bad Dragon toys have these days ((I’m under the impression that older models didn’t have these, from the days before they started using this technology, and it seems some current models are being re-worked to smooth this out.)) which makes thrusting attempts less of a chore. Still, it’s tricky. I do like the sensation, and it’s definitely the step up from the Randy that I’d picked it out to be, I just seem doomed to have a hard time getting both the size and manoeuvrability I desire in an anal toy. Once it’s in the sensation of fullness is great, and the insertion process has just the right amount of pushing-the-envelope stretch, I just really wish it had an even more solid core so that I could thrust with it. As it stands though, with the firmest that Bad Dragon offers as the core, it’s just too weak at the bottom of the shaft to really do that. Pity.

No- I haven’t tried this one vaginally, and I’m not about to do so any time soon. That is one place where I can still hold to my “I’m not a size queen!” statement. Crackers is destined to be an anal toy only for me, and likely one that requires a second individual to be able to get a good angle of entry for effective use. I do plan on trying more Bad Dragon toys, in fact I already have one more on-deck right now. I certainly think that they have promise, and if they were to ever start making their phallic toys in an extra- (or even extra extra-) soft texture I think there’s a market for fantasy packers out there. For the time being, I’ve got Crackers acting as a runway beacon so that I don’t walk into things in my living-room on the way to the toilet in the middle of the night. I knew there was a good reason I got glow-in-the-dark!

Oh, and yes- those are itty bitty versions of Bad Dragon toys, on my car dashboard, in the cover photo up there. The one on the far left though has a new home though, as a piece of garden art. Because my friends are awesome.

I tried to contact Nature Lovin’ Lubricants and couldn’t get a response. Then I heard they were up for an “O” Award. Huh. Ok. Still none of my go-to sex stores were carrying it, and still no replies, so I continued to wait. Then one day I stopped into my local Leather shop and we were talking lube and they mentioned they were soon to be carrying the brand. “Will you be getting the glow lube?!” I asked excitedly. They were. A few days later, it was in-stock, and I rushed over and snagged myself a bottle.

First things first— this stuff GLOWS. Seriously. That’s really all I cared about to be honest. This could have been the world’s worst lube ever, and as long as it glowed in the dark as promised I’d be happy. The texture of this stuff is a bit weird when rubbed between your fingers. It’s slippery and slick in a way reminiscent of my beloved Sliquid Sea, but with a strange secondary sensation, kinda like how lemonade is hydrating but also the acidity dries out the inside of your cheeks. It has that weird feeling like the inside of your cheeks gets, if that makes any sense. There’s a word for that I think, but I have no idea what it is right now.

It’s tasteless ((Yes, I’m one of those people who tastes everything. It’s not an oral fixation, really, it’s just a compulsion. First thing I do when I get a new cock? Put it in my mouth. Seriously.)), but you can definitely feel the grit of the encapsulated phosphorescent pigments between your teeth. This is important to note, as I’d likely not suggest this as an anal lube because of this grit, at least not by itself. Nobody likes butt-grit. Maybe if used AFTER an oil-based lube it’d be ok, since there’d be a bit of a buffer. I do that with sensation lubes a lot of the time, pairing it up with something oil-based, so it might work here too. Vaginally you don’t feel the grit at all though.

Nature Lovin’ lubes have an interesting premise. I need to do more research to see if it’s true but their claim is:

The Nature Lovin’ Lubricant lines contain three key ingredients. First carrageenan, this substance comes from red seaweed and has been shown in studies to prevent the spread of HPV (Human papillomavirus). Second is L-lysine, which is an amino acid that suppresses viral replication and inhibits the herpes simplex virus. Then royal jelly, which is derived from honey bees and is given only to the queen bee. Royal jelly has been used for thousands of years as a cure-all, its use dates all the way back to ancient Egypt. Royal jelly contains vitamins A, C, D, E, B1, B2, B3, B6. and B12. It is also a good source of folic acid and amino acids. These amino acids are essential for growth and repair of our cells and tissues and are thought to be of great importance in helping combat ‘free radicals’ in the body.

Sounds kinda hippy-dippy to me, but if it’s true that’s kinda cool. The carrageenan explains the similarity to Sliquid Sea/Oceanics— so, if these claims are true, I wonder if they’re applicable to that as well? I mean I know that studies do support these claims, but what I don’t know if they hold true in the quantities and dilutions present in lube in-use. Royal Jelly is something that I’ve heard all my crunchy friends go on an on about since oh, the 80’s? Smacks of psychosomatic placebo-effect, but hey– who am I to argue with that? Placebos can do a lot really. Power of positive thinking and all that rot.

Oh and remember how I said this stuff glows? Well that glow sticks around. So if you were like me and immediately upon seeing this thought “Oh man, I should draw on the walls with this!” yes, you could, and it’ll stick around for a while. A week after the photo-shoot that created the awesome image above ((In case you were wondering, yes that is a VixSkin Maverick in the delightfully Slimer/ecto-plasm-y Fluor-a-Green colourway. Because child of the 80’s and GHOSTBUSTERS FETISH.)) there are still glowing spots in the sink in my photographer’s apartment. Oops. You’ve been warned.

They just announced a new orange version of this stuff. Orange is probably my least favourite colour ((I often joke that I had a bad past-life experience with a traffic-cone)), but now I want that one too. It’d be perfect for on the batcock, or for some halloween-y fun on a black dildo. Or just for drawing on the walls with. Oh ideas…

Anyone who reads my blog, follows me on twitter/tumblr, or otherwise interacts with me with any frequency, will know that I am a kinkster and am in a Daddy-girl dynamic. I suppose this is where I’m supposed to preface that I’m over 18, that when I use terms like girl/babygirl that I am not referring to actual children, and that I am not referring to my actual father. Apparently people can’t figure this stuff out, and the legal censors get their panties all up in a twist if they think these things. Silly dimwitted censors.

As I said on The Big Little Podcast– I actually approached this dynamic with quite a bit of hesitation. It wasn’t something I’d really thought about much in the past. It certainly wasn’t something I’d explored ever, in fact I knew so many people who recoiled at the thought of someone calling their partner “Daddy” that I’d come to have this sort of reaction myself. So when someone relatively new in my life put it on the table, I was hesitant. I can’t say why exactly I was hesitant. My best guess, in hindsight, is a lot of social conditioning from those friends who looked at the idea with such disdain. I’d never known anyone who was in a Daddy dynamic, at least that I knew, and anytime it had come up it was in hushed tones and whispers of what someone might have overheard whilst their roommates were fucking.

Rarely one to not give something an honest go, I decided what the heck let’s try this. Things started off with the stereotypical ribbon-tied pigtails and bubble-gum lipgloss. This was fun, but that wasn’t what really clicked. The energy changed. The switch from calling someone Sir to Daddy was huge for me. The play style moved with the energy too. I began to feel a sense of pride, not within myself but his pride in me as I gave myself over to whatever evil plans he had laid for me. Undercurrents of nurturing and cherishing made me want to explore more, push myself, and give of myself more. Did these things really change? I don’t know, but that’s how it felt to me. It was immensely freeing in a way that I cannot put into words.

We’re a few weeks past a year later, and here I am to think on it some more. I’ve actually been thinking on this quite a bit of the last few months, through my time laid up from surgery and illness (those really are some good times to just sit back and think about yourself and your goals and feelings, I find). Later in the same year Lee Harrington’s delightful journal on Sexual Fantasy was published and helped me further into insight of how to create these solid communicable ideas which I can open up to others, and where my fears lie, to accept those, and put them in the open as well. There are certainly worries and fears, moreso perhaps for those of us who do feel Little and as such want to blush, hide, runaway, brat, or lose our words.

Opening up to fantasies also opens us up not just in these vulnerable  ways but also to the risky delicate dance of facilitation and negotiations for some things. As Lee says so nicely in his journal:

Things I often get shy saying, because of fear of rejection, or fear that they will be promised to me but not happen (that has happened a LARGE number of times in my life, and it sucks).  I tend not to tell folks what I really am looking for, because if I get excited about the possibility, I feel let down if it does not happen.  I worry that when I discuss my actual body realities, my health concerns, my safer sex rules, etc, that I may get turned down even after folks get all excited (which has happened many times to be honest).  I have moved for the most part to instead speaking desires out loud, and if they happen, cool.This too, is not the best system.  But its what I can do right now emotionally.  Some days I go proactive.I have major challenges with the shopping-list approach to sexual and kink negotiation.  Sign up here for a gangbang.  Um… gr… just can’t wrap my head around it.

Which brings me to me, and some of my fantasies. Sexual fantasies sounds rather limiting to my mind, so I’m going to call them kinky fantasies. Anyhow, in no particular order:

• A boot and leather centric scene, blacking a series of leathers through predicament situations and sensation, but also being permitted time to truly just dedicate my entire body to blacking. (requires an existant partner)
• Sensory depravation. My mind wanders to heavy leather sleepsacks, or palatte wrap, or somesuch similar. A hood. A blindfold. Headphones with pre-programmed music in. Suspended in the air, and just let to feel, to think, to process, and to be. (This would be a deeply personal and carthartic scene, and requires someone willing to help with anything that would need addressing in the intermediate. Pre-planning to have a therapy appointment follow the day before is a must.)
• To be collared in a more serious collar than a play collar. A collar of daddy’s-girl-hood, protection, perhaps even property. (would depend on many factors for property, that’s a rather charged word to me)
• Fun and floppily dynamic partial suspensions. Lots of laughter. Lots of lightheartedness. Lots of hitty-hitty.
• Being bound, somewhere dark for a long time, enough to lose track of time. Occasionally to be used or beaten. (Would need to be someone who is ok with my flipping out/getting emotional)
• Being drugged and fucked/played with while unconscious.
• Heavy boot play, my body grinding into the ground beneath you under your soles, your bootprint on the side of my face, treadmarks on my cunt.
• Combined intense candle wax, rope, and spanking/flogging scene. (relies heavily on the D/s dynamic for this to not just be a very surface scene)
• Nazi interrogation/rape scene.
• Having my body pissed on, then my cunt pissed in and fucked full of piss. (obviously someone I’m fluid bonded with)
• A day of learning whatever lesson Daddy deems I need in order to be able to grow. (potential for fun, or for awful)
• Going to the movies, or a day at the Aquarium, or to the arcade, with some sort of naughty thing going on under my clothes. With a companion, not just alone. I’ve done this with rope before, so I’d like to add more next time.
• Electrical play. Let’s not forget the electro-bike saga. I really want to explore this more. I have ideas, and a scary-as-fuck gift to be given once I work up the nerve to do so.
• To play right on the edge of true fear. Again, like the deeply cathartic scene, this is risky business. I still really want to do it though.

Now, I still have my old style fantasies, where I think intensely hard on one aspect of something I like or have done. Things like the ingenius little leather cuff Daddy owns and which I wore on one of our formative dates. The first time he spanked me, where, when, how, how I felt… and the first time he beat me with his belt, where, when, how, how it felt, how it compares, what I have learned… I dream about mornings waking to Daddy rousing me from my cage for an early morning fuck before we both head off to work. I dream a lot how Daddy takes my breath away, and how happy it makes me feel.

So, I think about fantasies, but I’m shy and unusually awkward compared to how I seem. I am a little girl at heart, and I carry my Daddy’s watchful eye and protective heart with me wherever I go. I’m an autonomous individual, free to do as I please, but knowing I’ve got him in my corner looking out for me is giving me a bit more confidence. Not much though. I’ll likely continue to limit who I will play list rather strictly for the time being. Who knows, maybe that’ll change too!

Sunday School was a special three-part workshop being put on by the PDX Bad Girls, a women’s kink social group, as an annual part of Oregon Leather Pride. This year the event featured Dr. Evil Boi teaching two workshops: one on mindfucks and one on blood and ritual, with Twisted Monk teaching a workshop on straight razor shaving in-between. While these subjects (well, the mindfucks and the razors at least) are generally of interest to me to begin with, this wasn’t just another workshop for me. Oh no. You see, I was to be a part of the workshop. Being friends with interesting people has its perks, and one of those is that sometimes opportunities such as being a demo-body for a straight razor workshop arise. So it was that I found myself naked from the waist down, feet in stirrups, a big examination light spotlighting my cunt, in a room full of (mostly) strangers.

This may seem like no big thing to some. People get naked at kink events and play parties all the time, so what’s the big deal? Well yes, people do do that, but I don’t. I have spent much of the past decade appearing to the rest of the world more than a little conservative. Floor-length skirts, long sleeves, even covering my hair, were a normal mode of appearance for me. While not quite that severe these days, I am still generally much more modestly dressed than most. On the rare occasion that I engage in any sort of public play I still don’t strip down to my birthday suit, opting instead for underoos and a tank. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll go topless if I’m feeling particularly daring that day. I’m certainly never caught with my junk out in the open in public though. I tend to refer to public full or lower nudity as a soft limit for me. It’s a difficult thing to explain why that is — it’s not based on fear or repulsion, as many limits are. A lot of it is trust, and some of it is modesty, and the rest just is. Pair this with the truth that I am a bit of an exhibitionist, and things get interesting.

I was fully aware of what I was getting into when it was settled that I would be offering up my body and my hair for public removal. I’ve been straight razor shaved before, so that part wasn’t new. I’m comfortable with it, as much as anyone ever is comfortable with someone using a frighteningly sharp blade around the most sensitive parts of their body. I knew that Little Brother and his Daddy would be there too, which was both reassuring and not (Brother simply loves goading me into trouble). I trust Monk unquestionably. The variable here was simply being naked, in public, with strangers.

What was interesting to me, was how much more arousing the shave in this situation ended up being. I found myself getting excited and damp even before I was down to my underoos (which, incidentally, being my new Batman y-fronts, prompted the entire room bursting out in the Batman theme song upon sight). Even shaving my legs and underarms had a profound effect on me, enough that by the time I had to slip off my underoos my body was pretty wired, my endorphins up, and my mind definitely somewhere rather good. Kudos to Monk for being able to safely navigate my nethers despite the added slipperyness. I’m sure getting a good grip on my flesh to safely shave it was a bit tricky. I can’t say for sure as I couldn’t see what was going on down there, but it certainly felt like I was getting far wetter than I’ve been in a long time. I might even hazard to use the phrase “dripping wet”.

It’s funny how something like this can create such a response in my body and mind. Afterwards I was far more altered than I have been even from my intensest scenes. I’m not sure I’m ready to start being fully nude or nude on the lower half in public on any sort of regular basis now, but I’ve found the power in choosing to offer this option as a rare treat. I have to say thank you to everyone who was there too. To Little Brother for lending a boot of reassurance while my legs were being shaved at the beginning of the workshop, and for not inciting too much trouble. To my Family as a whole for being supportive, present, and helpful. To Monk for keeping me in one piece, working through my laughter when the razor tickled, and for providing me this amazing opportunity and experience. And to everyone in attendance, for having a sense of humor, for being so kind, for being an amazing audience, and for making me feel comfortable despite my vulnerability.

The question kept popping back into my mind though throughout the day. What is my preferred kink? What IS my preferred kink? I’m not sure. Do I have one? I know there are things I do not like, but that’s not the same. As I rolled the question around in my head, a few questions of my own came up:

Are the things we naturally do, or are drawn to, without even realizing that they are “different”, our preferences? Or would a preference have to be something we consciously choose to engage in and take on?

Do our preferences hold across all lovers and partners, or are they more individual to the individual?

An interesting and thought-provoking question, which has me pondering now more the nature of a “preferred kink” than what specific kink or set of kinks might fall under that heading for me.

Obviously, I titled this post off the video. When the idea for this post came into my head, the song popped in there with it so there you have it. A goofy title. Enough about that, let’s get to why you’re really reading this post and possibly this blog: my sexual fantasies like having these sex toys by Be Daring is really the coolest!
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My Daddy often asks me questions relating to my fantasies. First fantasy, fantasies from the past week, fantasies since we last saw each other, fantasies I’ve not shared with anyone before. I always feel awkward and childlike when faced with these questions. What ARE my fantasies? I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t fantasize the way others do. If you want to explore your fantasies, you may consider visiting the camsodareview home page.

This isn’t to say I don’t have a sense of imagination. I’m a creative type- an artist by hobby and trade. I just don’t seem to create the elaborate scenarios which others do which have come to be known as fantasies. I think of independent acts or items by themselves, many people have sexual fantasies and using toys such as vibrating anal stimulators and more. I may focus on a sensation, or a feeling I wish to have. Primarily I re-live that which I’ve experienced already. I re-live the sensation of hot wax dripping onto my skin. I re-live the feeling of anxiety and disorientation from being blindfolded. What I don’t do is play a movie out in my head of how a scene may go, or even replay a scene I’ve done. I also don’t mentally live out that which I haven’t experienced. I’ll think about it, posit what it might be like, and reason it through, but live it out? Not happening.

So, everyone else has more sexual fantasies than me. I guess I’m ok with that. I’m still creating fodder for my mind to re-live, and that’s the important part right?