Move over Monogamy, there’s a naughtier board game in town. If you’ve been enjoying the resurgent popularity of BDSM then it’s time to buy into its ultimate kinky accompaniment: the stylishly designed Tie & Tease.
Players throw a D/s die alongside a normal numbered one, picking up themed cards (Role-play, Sensory, Sex, Impact and Contract) to complete sexy tasks as either a Dom(me) or submissive as they compete to complete a circuit of the board. Co-written by Cliterati contributor Molly Moore (of renowned D/s blog Mollysdailykiss), needless to say the cards contain intriguing ideas (to the extent that both the Dom and sub angles prove a winner) and the game leaves players with plenty to discuss and explore together afterwards.
Tie & Tease is a huge favourite at Cliterati as not only is it genuinely exciting (unusual for a board game!) it’s also ideal for opening minds to future experimentation and for blowing fresh air into a long-term relationship. It’s also a great opportunity to explore a side of yourself or a partner you may have never otherwise have enjoyed, and in a light-hearted, safe environment too: after all, your Domme wife may have a submissive side, or your subby boyfriend could be intrigued about being Dominant on occasion. If you wanted some quick-fire fun you could even put the board aside and go straight for the cards. Plus, if bondage isn’t up your street then happily you can still try the vanilla version Tease, which is just as well designed and equally entertaining.
However, if you are in the mood for some thrilling experimentation and fancy indulging your Dom(me), inner submissive or being a ‘Switch’ for an evening – or if you’re simply looking for couples’ kinkspiration – then Tie & Tease will keep you interested and entertained for far longer than its initial outing. You may also like to invest in additional items such as Earthly Body Trio 3-in-1 Mini Massage Candles, Fifty Shades Beginners Bondage Kit or the Bondage Boutique Bundle to enhance the experience.
This piece was originally posted on Cliterati on February 3rd 2015
Since it’s the time of year to wrap up warm and cover those bare legs, I thought we’d get seasonal and review some hosiery. But not any of your usual M&S tights or hold-ups from Boots which form the staples of many women’s top drawers, oh no: being of a naughty nature we decided to try some hosiery you’re unlikely to ever see available on the High Street. Stockings with a twist: stockings which come with labia spreaders.
Yes, instead of a suspender belt to keep our hosiery high, UberKinky sent us Labia Spreaders: little toothy crocodile clips which attach to your labia, whilst the other end fasten to your stockings in the more traditional way, thereby holding them in place. If the clips sound uncomfortable, they’re not – well, only mild to moderately painful depending on how long you wear them. And that of course is part of the pleasure, no? Well, that and being more exposed since your last trip to the gynaecologist, as there’s nothing quite like being on display to arouse both the participant and the voyeur (professional medics aside, of course – god only knows how working with genitals affects your sex life: it’s got to be far too much of a good thing, right?!).
The stockings enclosed by the manufacturers may not be of the best quality, but they’re perfect for standard bedroom antics and you won’t worry about them getting ruined in action. But if you’re wanting to be go more upmarket, then pair the Spreaders with your own favourite stockings, add a skirt and heels and go out for a romantic knickerless meal somewhere smart, where we defy you to get to dessert without some illegal under-the-table interaction.
Wherever you choose to wear them, avoid using lube alongside the Labia Spreaders as this will affect the clips’ ability to stay in place, and you could find them repeatedly slipping off your lovely lady lips (I think we need to say those last three words more often). It’s time to celebrate your body and show off what you’ve got, so treat yourself to some Labia Spreaders for Christmas – it’ll make a great present for your partner too. I can’t think of a better stocking-filler!
As out and proud fans of all things fabulous and latex, sexy and steampunk, gothic, punk, and let’s face it, pretty much every alternative fashion featuring rubber, exquisite corsetry and super-sharp tailoring (or all of the above), for us London Fetish Weekend has become something of an annual highlight – where else can you find a catwalk event showcasing best of alternative clothing?
Tonight’s opening LFW Fetish Fashion & Deviant Dance evening is not only a club night with a difference, but also a fetish fashion show playing host to four established designers and three additional new designers, all competing for the New Designer Of The Year Award. And what a line-up it is…
First up on the runway is Jed Phoenix, who actually – gasp! – design wearable alternative gear for men as well as women, erring on the side of industrial, gothic and bondage wear:
Second we have House Of Harlot, a well-known Irregular Voice favourite, who are great all-rounders who somehow remain impressive boundary-pushers, meaning that well, frankly, we want their latex-clad babies:
Next comes the first of the new designers, Dayne Henderson, whose ‘near-future’ cyberpunk get-ups are eye-boggling to the extreme. These outfits may well be avant-garde, but Henderson’s approach makes them fascinating art pieces as well:
The second new designer is Eustratia, whose look is just…stunning. Beautiful latexwear, often simple at first glance yet complex in content, these are easily dressed up with the addition of Eustratia’s own latex accessories line. Breathtaking:
Lady Allura’s Latex is the final new designer to be showcased, and her output is cute, cool and enviably colourful, giving her a special place in Irregular Voice’s heart. We love:
And so back we go to the more established designer and the penultimate of the evening, Moretta Designs, AKA Lady Allegra’s weird and wonderful world of 18th Century inspired costume, whose elegant corsets and full silk, satin lace and taffeta dresses are beyond gorgeous, Milady. Enchanting:
The last designer of the evening is Slaughter House Couture, which offers bespoke latex designs for men and women of every size and shape – as the plus-size model on their homepage testifies. Just divine:
Finally, before the Fetish Fashion & Deviant Dance night descends into club chaos, the winner of the London Fetish Weekend New Designer of The Year Award will be announced – and we can’t wait to hear who the expert judging panel rate most highly. Who would you put your money on?
This post first appeared on Cliterati
Holy Crapamoly, there is absolutely nothing I don’t like about this photo: the sexy latex Pop Art dress, the make-up, the model, the hair… Because as always the inimitable Hélène Atsüko looks beyond stunning, making the rest of us wish our locks were also temporarily lost to be replaced with a wet-shaved head, pink eye make-up, chiselled cheeks and enviable curves. Hotness beyond cool. Pass me the Bic, I’m baggsying the bathroom…
There’s much to be said about decorating a bedroom to reflect your personality, and one of the best things about bed linen is that since it’s temporary you can change it to suit your mood – and your guest!
Here are some sexy and stylish covers designed by Kate Storer, who’s been working on her bedroom range since 2002. Cliterati’s favourite duvet covers include the Restless couple set (which also comes in a male-male and female-female All Girls Together option) and the Me & You kissers, below. We’re also sorely tempted by Storer’s cute and cheeky glow-in-the-dark nightwear collection and pink “Voulez Vous?” pijamas – especially as they’re currently on sale!
There’s even something for the man in your life: how about the purple or grey James Bond-inspired cover depicting a man surrounded by naked ladies? Its corresponding cushions which feature speech bubbles containing phrases such as “Flattery will get you…everywhere” and “go on…tempt me” leave Cliterati shaken and stirred!
Available online and in selected stores all over the UK, what’s not to like?!
First published on Cliterati
I love stripping on stage. I have the audience in the palm of my hand and I’m playing with them, slowly teasing them with the power of suggestion: an item of clothing shed here, a flash of skin there, the hint of a curve revealed, a coquettish smile over a bare shoulder – and I have them hooked. It’s an art, burlesque, if you do it right, and I do it so right that people come back for more. When I scan the tables and make eye contact with my spectators, I see men exhale the breaths they’ve been unconsciously holding in, and I know women are instinctively and involuntarily squirming in their seats. Oh yes, I’m bloody good at my job – in fact I’m famous for it. “Coucou…” I tantalisingly beckon in French with a finger, “Coucou!” and there isn’t a person out there who doesn’t want to follow me as I leave the stage clad only in my ostrich feathers.
Last night was no different, except for one thing: in the audience I saw someone. Someone who had a certain something about them – that sexual allure you can pinpoint a mile off, that animal magnetism you couldn’t bottle if you tried. He was suited and booted like the rest of the upmarket crowd before me, but whilst the others on his table were sitting taut and engrossed, he was relaxed and attentive, and his smile was generous and true. I knew in that way you know that he would be mine before the night was out.
And then there he was backstage, this man: not tall, not short, which suited my 5’7” in heels perfectly. My sister Annie introduced us: “Coucou, this is Benjamin Dax–”
“– Call me Ben” he interrupted. Suddenly I was looking into a pair of brown eyes sparkling with intelligence and humour. I liked what I saw.
“Ben then, nice to meet you.” I smiled and held out a hand: Ben took it in his, so that my fist was embraced in his palm and his fingers were around my wrist. The pressure was so subtle as to be almost imperceptible, yet somehow it felt electric. My professionalism escaped me: my legs went weak and I could only smile goofily like a teenager. Annie noticed and grinned imperceptibly.
“Drink?” Ben offered, “I think you’ve earned it tonight. You were sensational up there.”
“Thank you – I’d love one. But not here” I replied, recovered, “I feel as if I’m still onstage. It’s like the eyes of the world are still upon me!” And indeed they were: all carefully selected heads present were surreptitiously turned our way, wondering what the handsome well-dressed stranger was doing backstage with their star, their Coucou.
“I know a great little place,” Ben suggested, “a short hop away. I’m sure you could manage it – even in your heels.”
“Take me, I’m yours” I acquiesced, throwing on my fake fur coat over my glamorous offstage outfit. Ben nodded approvingly. That’s the thing about being a star – people expect you to be dressed like a ‘somebody’ when you’re not working, and I do hate to disappoint my audience, even during my time off.
With a casual wave to Annie and the others I followed Ben out of the door. This was no longer my usual way of doing things, so I was slightly nervous. But, true to his word, Ben’s “great little place” was just around the corner, and he was a real gentleman the whole stroll there: taking my arm, he walked on the outer part of the pavement, sheltering me from passing vehicles, whilst on the pedestrian side he answered any questioning glances from passersby with “No, it’s not….she gets that all the time –” turning to me “ – Honey you really should change your hair, people are confusing you with Coucou again!”
I could actually feel myself relaxing in Ben’s confident and charming company, and as we walked into the bar I took the strong hand he offered as he helped me up the stairs, and I deliberately didn’t let it go until we were sat in our private booth. Ben smiled at me over the table as the pretty waitress took my order, his eyes never straying from my face. “I’ll have the same,” he said, “Mojitos for both of us”. Over the next few hours we chatted and laughed in our secluded sanctuary. I felt elated: here was this perfect stranger sat opposite me, unafraid of my fame – my face – and yet still perfectly attuned to my body, my womanliness, but without the cachet of celebrity. I was impressed – and entertained. I felt recklessly intoxicated: the feel of Ben’s knee pressed against my leg was driving me crazy, and as his hand massaged my thigh I felt like some kind of glamorous courtesan, dressed up to the nines with my stockinged feet in his lap. I was flirting like a demon and loving every moment of it. And so it was that my professional mask slipped bit by bit, so that by the end of the evening I was no longer Coucou but Elizabeth once more – I was me. And I was having a hell of a lot of fun again.
As the bar closed, we called a cab – to Ben’s. “No chauffeur, I’m afraid”, he smiled ruefully. “A refreshing change,” I beamed at him in response. As per our historic family rules (although it had been a long time), I sent my sister Annie a ‘safe’ text to let her know where I was headed and with whom, and I stifled a smirk at the thought that since she was probably tucked up in bed she would read it in the morning – which is when a barrage of return texts would be coming back my way begging me to tell all. This evening I really was being the old me again – how wonderfully invigorating! I felt all dizzy with joy at the thought of truly shedding the stage for a night. But not, it has to be said, as dizzy as when in the back of the taxi Ben stroked the hollow at the back of my knee, both reassuring and exciting me at the same time. I turned to him as the streetlights flashed by, looking up at his face to get the measure of him. “Yup, I’m still here”, Ben laughed, now squeezing my leg with his hand. I placed my own over the top. “Me too”, I smiled. Ben’s eyes danced, and his grip tightened, but he made no move to kiss me.
Soon enough we drew up outside a smart block of flats. The building was art deco in design, and as Ben helped me out of the cab I read the words Underwood Mansions inscribed over the grand entrance. “I’m on the third floor”, he said, showing me into the old ornate lift. Holding my hand, he surveyed me in the mirrors, drinking in the sight of me.
I couldn’t help it: “What do you see?” I asked, pouting my famous lips, my elegant reflection echoed back to me in multiple by the fabulous gilt-edged mirrors surrounding us.
“I see a beautiful woman who needs to stop working so hard”, Ben smiled.
“Just as well I’m making the most of my time off right now then, isn’t it?” I batted back with a wink of my stage lashes.
I noticed Ben’s even teeth under the ornamental light, the beautiful curve of his mouth, and the softness of his skin. I wanted to touch his face, but didn’t quite have the courage, so I did the next best thing and took his other hand in mine so that we stood face to face. Despite the warmth of my fur coat the hungry look in his eyes gave me goosebumps, and I trembled slightly in anticipation, my very essence vibrating with desire at his touch. I was eager for him too.
The bell announced the third floor, breaking our reverie, and as though in a dream I tottered along the corridor to Ben’s place, my arm threaded through his. I could feel the strong muscles on his forearm and smell his fresh, masculine aftershave. I was under his spell, and my body hummed in recognition.
First published on Cliterati under my Mia More alias