Front cover for Toybag Guide to Dungeon Emergencies and Supplies

By Jay Wiseman
Published in 2004 by Greenery Press

One thing about BDSM books that often frustrates me is that they often present a pamphlet-length topic in book-length form.  The result is books that are bloated with asides, awful fiction, wordy prose, and the like that are not only annoying to read, they are also unnecessarily expensive.

In some ways, it is easy to understand why publishers would contribute to this situation given based on their not wholly unreasonable belief that book buyers are more likely to shell out the extra money for an entire book than purchase what might appear to be a flimsy pamphlet. I also think that the book length format appeals to the egos of BDSM authors given that, not only does a book seem a more impressive accomplishment than a pamphlet, but also a book writer is more likely to receive perks such as invitations to speak at BDSM events.  I know for a fact that “so-and-so wrote a book” carries considerable cachet in someone’s stature within the larger BDSM community.  Unfortunately, whether said book is any good is given scant attention.

In my view this is all very backwards.  I would much rather spend $10 on a smaller pamphlet that contains only meaningful pragmatic information than shell out $16 for four times the verbiage and one-eighth of the utility.  Also, why on earth would I be excited to hear an author speak when his book is meandering and self-important?

All of which is why I enjoy Greenery Press’ Toybag Guide books so much.  Not only are do they distill a topic to the parts that are important to learn, they do away with much of the awfulness that all too often plagues BDSM-related books.

Despite the fact that I was annoyed and distracted by his excessive safety admonitions in SM 101, it is hard to imagine any author who is more suited to write a BDSM safety guide than Jay Wiseman.  Here, Wiseman presents most everything a person needs to consider before, during, and after play in a concise easy to read manner.  Not only is this is an enjoyable read before an accident, it remains a handy reference to have on hand after a situation arises that requires attention (though not every emergency situation lends itself to “wait let me read this book for  five minutes before I act).

In fact this is so enjoyable, I have only one complaint which is that one of the folios, pages 27-58, where inserted into my copy upside down.  But this printing error is a minor annoyance that can easily be overlooked.

Screw the Roses, Send Me the Thorns front cover

By Philip Miller and Molly Devon
Published in 1995 by Mystic Rose Books

A friend is often fond of telling me that he was there at the moment that inspired this book’s title.  While he is generally reliable, I don’t know that there is any way to ever verify the veracity of that claim.

Screw the Roses, Send Me the Thorns is often referred to as the ideal primer for anyone newly interested in exploring an interest in BDSM.  Having read this and numerous introductory BDSM texts, I can only conclude that this book is so often recommended because it has a catchy title.  Compared to all of the other BDSM primers, this is by far the worst of the lot.

While the flow of the book is consistent with others of its type, Screw the Roses is filled with cheesy photographs and even cheesier jokes.  For example, chapter 9, devoted to flogging, is titled, “Philip’s Philosophy of Phlogging Phun.”

While using lighthearted prose to put a nervous beginner at ease with BDSM seems reasonable, rather than making the BDSM seem fun (or should it be “phun”?) the bad jokes interrupt the flow and undercut the authors’ credibility.

If one can wade past the distracting jokes, there really is lots of useful information that everyone new to BDSM play would benefit from knowing, and if this is the only primer you can locate you won’t suffer from reading it.  However, if you are choosing an introductory BDSM book, you will be better served to read Learning the Ropes by Race Bannon or Consensual Sadomasochism by William A. Henkin and Sybil Holiday.

Intimate Invasions front cover

by M.R. Strict
Published in 2004 by Greenery Press

Klysmaphilia or enema play is one of those topics that embarrasses most people to talk about, much less express an interest in. Given that, a Greenery Press book devoted to the topic would seem a very worthwhile effort towards expanding everyone’s comfort and familiarity with the topic. Or at least, that’s what I thought prior to reading the book. It pains me to have to say this (for one thing I bristle at the bad pun), but simply put this book is shitty.

One consistently annoying thing about BDSM books in general, and Greenery Press titles in particular, is a writing style that uses fantasy scenes interspersed in between matter of fact discussion.  Having endured more of these books than anyone really ought, I have come to the conclusion that most BDSM books would not be published were they written about any other topic.  Books about even such potentially mundane topics as gardening, cooking, and sewing are generally better written than even the best BDSM book.  It is so bad that I own any number of books that I would be embarrassed to have the coroner find on my bookshelf not because they are dirty but simply because they are poorly written.

But I digress. The most astonishing part about Intimate Invasions is that even though it clocks in at about 140 pages, there are perhaps 20 that contain useful information. Without the awful fantasy sequences this book might have been a good fit for Greenery Press’ “Toybag Guide” series.  But even that might be a stretch since even those 20 pages are not reliable because M.R. Strict’s knowledge and advice seems suspect. As bad as the factual sections are, the fantasy sequences are even worse.

Just how bad is this book? It is so bad that I would put more faith in the advice from any number of 1970s enema guides marketed by the same companies that specialized enema themed pornography.  Even though they often recommend such potentially dangerous practices as giving wine enemas, they tend to demonstrate a greater passion and knowledge of their subject.

I hope that another BDSM publisher and/or author will devote a book to this worthwhile topic. They certainly will have no trouble writing something better than this.

Anyone You Want Me to Be: A True Story of Sex and Death on the Internet front cover

by John Douglas and Stephen Singular
Published in 2003 by Scribner

Written by former FBI criminal profiler John Douglas and true crime author Stephen Singular, Anyone You Want Me to Be traces the life and criminal exploits of serial murderer John “Slavemaster” Robinson. If you’re unfamiliar with Robinson’s crimes you can read his Wikipedia article.

Because Robinson’s victims are not unlike many of the submissive women I know and care about, this book was a difficult read as I kept imagining one of them meeting a horrible fate. Anyone contemplating turning an online BDSM romance into a real life meeting would be highly advised to read this book.  That isn’t because meaningful, fulfilling, and loving relationship with someone you meet online aren’t possible, but because you really don’t know who is on the other end of the machine.

One thing that I did find particularly satisfying is that while Robinson was able to con many women he met online, one wouldbe victim he met in person had the foresight to set up a safecall. To be fair, despite the safecall the woman didn’t survive her encounter with Robinson completely unscathed – Robinson stole her toy bag.  If you ask me, even if they hadn’t found the barrels filled his bodies, stealing someone’s toybag is a capital offense. Kidding aside, it was this act that finally gave the police probably cause to arrest Robinson and led to the discovery of his victims.

Whether it is because, or in spite, of the fact that this book will haunt your thoughts for days after you read it, I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Learning the Ropes front cover

by Race Bannon
Published in 1992 by Daedalus Publishing

Given that this book was written as an introduction to S/M, the title seems a tad misleading and suggests a heavy emphasis on rope bondage.  While there is a fine section devoted to introductory bondage, there is a lot more to Learning the Ropes than just bondage. Bannon writes in a friendly conversational style that is easy to follow. In some ways the book almost seemed too short, but the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that is not the case.  Instead, Bannon deserves heaps of praise for being at once concise and thorough.  Everything someone newly interested in learning about S/M needs to know is covered, but Bannon rightfully takes the reader only so far before making the reader responsible for learning about their own desires and how to fulfill them.

While Bannon is clearly deeply concerned with safety, he recognizes that we all bear a certain amount of personal responsibility for it.  The result is wonderful.  Readers are armed with the tools they will need to be reasonably safe, but not so badgered about safety that they might wonder if the book were written by the same lawyers that power tool owner manuals.

Even though the book manages to be guilty of using fictionalized interludes, they appear once after an explanation of their purpose.  Most fantastically, instead of hampering the flow of the book they manage to actually enhance it.

The next time someone new to BDSM asks about books they should read, I’ll make a point to recommend this one.  It’s that good.

I’m surprised that it isn’t more widely recognized compared to other books that offer advice to those learning about S/M.  I can think of two reasons why this might be the case.

First, Daedalus is a smaller company whose books aren’t as widely distributed as publishing companies like Greenery Press or Mystic Rose.  If a book isn’t easily obtainable, it’s less likely to be adopted as a standard text.

The second reason I can think of for the book’s lack of prominence saddens me: Bannon is gay.  While I’ll admit that I’m in a poor position to judge the book’s standing within the gay S/M community, I can’t help but think his sexuality pushes him to the fringes in the “pansexual” community.

In theory, a pansexual community values everyone equally without regard to their sexuality.  In practice, heterosexual men tend to be held in the highest esteem.   Curiously, while the cachet of bisexual women is as high, if not higher, than that of heterosexual women, bisexual men are viewed with large amounts of suspicion by men and women alike.  Gay men occupy a space somewhat above their bisexual counterparts, but they’re still not seen as quite as “good” as heterosexuals.  The transgendered are often on the outside looking in.

I admit with some of shame that I’m never sure how to relate to the transgendered.   I worry a great deal about pronouns – I’m never sure which to use.  Asking would no doubt be the easiest way of finding out.  The trouble is that by asking you’re forced to confront the fact that someone is different and one wants very much to not make someone feel different – that’s the reason that not getting pronouns right causes so much anxiety in the first place.  So there I am avoiding someone because I fear that in talking to them I’ll say something offensive and make them feel awkward. Yet avoiding the transgendered and all but guarantees they will feel like outsiders. It’s a vicious cycle.  The worst part is knowing that I’m losing out too. When I pick the people who I consider my friends, I judge them based on whether they are interesting, treat me and others fairly, and support me when I need it. Whether or not that person is a man, woman, or transperson doesn’t really affect that one whit.

But I digress.  This is a fine book that would be a good resource to anyone regardless of their sexual or S/M orientation. Sadly, Learning the Ropes appears to be out of print, but if you want to learn about S/M it is well worth the time and effort to track it down.

Tom of Finland front cover

By F. Valentine Hooven III
Published in 1993 by St. Martin’s Press

Recently I was talking to a leatherman.  I call him a leatherman not because was he dressed in leather, but because he embodied that perfect combination of humble confidence and grace. He was, in may ways, the personification of an idealized leatherman. Atop his head was an amazing leather hat which perfectly framed his countenance and vice versa.  As I complimented his hat, I mentioned that it made him look like he had stopped off the page of one of Tom of Finland’s drawings.  He responded thoughtfully, “we all look like that on the inside.”  It was a comment immense in both its beauty and insight.

If you only recently came out from under a rock and are completely unfamiliar with Tom of Finland’s work, he was, and still is, the best and most famous artist of gay erotica.  His work is known for his highly stylized depictions of flawless hyper-masculine figures such as laborers, cops, and, obviously enough, leathermen.

Hooven’s biography traces Tom of Finland’s life beginning with his childhood in rural Finland to his death. I don’t know much about the background of this book’s author other than that his name shows up as the author of a book devoted to Beefcake magazines of the 50s through 70s.  Were I more motivated, I might seek him out and find out more about him. Regardless, Hooven’s prose is reminiscent of the Weekly Reader.  In some ways that easy writing style makes the book light and easy to read.  In others, it makes the makes the book, and by extension, its subject seem a bit lightweight.

One of the book’s surprising highlights was the Tom of Finland’s service during World War II.  I never really considered Finland’s participation in the war and the war’s affect on Finland before reading the book.  While I don’t know enough about gay sexual expression during the war to accept or reject the veracity of Hooven’s descriptions of clandestine gay sexual encounters during the war, they were both plausible and compelling. The rest of the book traces Tom of Finland’s career as an artist from his work as a graphic illustrators to his transformation as a fulltime erotic artist, finally culminating in Tom of Finland’s recognition as an outstanding painter.

Though Hooven discusses Tom of Finland’s career as an advertising illustrator, a more detailed description of his advertising work would give the reader a broader picture of Tom of Finland’s artistic influences and background.  Another detail of Tom of Finland’s life that seemed to merit more discussion was his relationship with his long term partner Veli.  Despite being portrayed as a protective confidante when Tom is taken advantage of in his business dealings, Hooven depicts Veli as little more than a minor character in Tom of Finland’s life. Providing a more complete picture of who Tom’s life partner is and how he interacted with Tom would provide a greater insight into both Tom and his works.

Hooven also declines (fails?) to discuss Tom of Finland’s family.  One wonders if he were out to them and, if so, how they reacted to his sexuality.  Also, were they aware of his art and success?  If so, were they proud or ashamed? If Hooven knows, he doesn’t tell the reader.

Even with these minor omissions, Hooven’s work provides a fine insight into the life and work of Tom of Finland and anyone interested in erotic artists, BDSM history, or gay and/or leather iconography will enjoy this book.

The New Topping Book front cover

by Dossie Eastman and Janet W. Hardy
Published in 2003 by Greenery Press

Covering everything from negotiation to aftercare The New Topping Book is a thorough guide to the emotional side of topping.  While the practical advice is expected, it’s the unexpected things that make this book truly worthwhile.

I was particularly heartened to see the “Top’s Bill of Rights.”  Too often, the fact that we tops have needs is overlooked (even by other tops).  I suppose that the general belief that if the top is in charge and not getting his needs met it is his own failure.  This is at best simplistic.  A good scene is like a dance; unless you’re Billy Idol it isn’t much fun to do it by yourself.  Naturally not only do tops have rights but also responsibilities and “The Top’s List of Responsibilities” delineates these well.

Having something go wrong in a scene is inevitable.  Sometimes that wrong thing turns out to be something nice though that obviously isn’t normally the case.  The pages devoted to preparing for this eventuality are of particular interest, and will help give any responsible top the tools he needs to manage a scene.

I can only find one fault with this book: the narrative interludes. Their appearance needlessly jolts the flow of the book.  While learning from other people’s experiences is invaluable, the book would have improved if those experiences were relayed in the same voice that the rest of the text is written in.  This is but a minor complaint and the book is more than strong enough to overcome it.  Highly recommended.

Consensual Sadomasochism front cover

By William A. Henkin and Sybil Holiday
Published in 1996 by Daedalus Publishing Company

This book’s table of contents left me wary because it devotes 150 pages to what the authors refer to as a “safety manual”. I am firmly of the opinion that if you think BDSM has to be “safe” you probably should find a different sexual outlet. That isn’t to say that I think it is okay to be reckless when you play. Far from it. we all have to recognize that BDSM is an inherently risky activity that demands we each take personal responsibility for when we play.

Usually, when we think of risk and BDSM, we think of physical risk, but the physical risks are the least severe. It is the emotional risks that we take when we play that are the most extreme. These risks aren’t the sole purview of bottoms (or submissives or bottoms or whatever the Hell it is someone chooses to call themselves. I could write a lengthy rant about how silly we can be about terminology. Someday I just may…) Indeed, tops (or dominants…same rant…) also take just as much emotional risk when we play.

Luckily despite my initial worries the discussions of playing safely aren’t heavy handed. Instead, they serve as brief introductions to the sorts of play they describe. Sometimes, these discussions seem too brief. However if these types of play were all covered in the depth they demand, the book would be so long it would be too intimidating for all but the most dedicated reader to pick up.

Also important to remember that BDSM is ultimately not something that one learns from a book but instead is only learned from practice and experience. (I should add that this process of learning is ongoing. The most dangerous sorts of people are those that maintain they have nothing left to learn.) This is a point the authors make more than once by cautioning anyone interested in such play to learn from someone with lots of experience.
Another refreshing thing about this book is the total absence of fictional fantasy sequences from its pages. I have no idea why such fantasy scenes take up so much of the space of most BDSM how-to books as their inclusion detracts rather than enhances.

Unfortunately, even though this book avoids the annoying fantasy sequences it does include another flaw that rears its head all too often in BDSM books: new age spirituality. Even though I don’t personally have much use for spirituality I recognize that there is a time and a place for it; I’m just dumbfounded why anyone believes that time and place to be inside a book about how to beat people.

BDSM spirituality almost invariably manifests itself in one of two ways, Wicca/paganism or Indian mysticism (Tantra). Most published BDSM books come from California and do little to contradict the the hippie-dippy California stereotype. Locally, most “spiritual” practitioners I know seem to be of the Wicca/Pagan/mother earth/bridge troll persuasion. Just once I would love to hear someone report that while they were “flying” in the middle of a scene they felt closer to, oh I dunno, Isis. Shoot, I’d settle for a report of an out of body experience where someone tongued Satan’s asshole. Alas, I suspect that I will remain forever disappointed.

But I digress, despite the predictable embrace of spirituality, Consensual Sadomasochism is an excellent introductory book for those wanting to explore BDSM and those interested in learning more would be well served by reading it.

P.S. Some of you poor misguided souls out there are under the impression that activities involving consent are “consentual.” Those of you who are sticklers for spelling and grammatical accuracy (like me) are already well aware that there is no such word as “consentual” and cringe upon seeing it. The word is properly spelled consensual. Learn it, love it, live it.

The Compleat Spanker Front Cover

by Lady Green
Published in 1996 by Greenery Press

While I am vaguely familiar with The Compleat Angler and know it originated the tradition of using the archaic spelling of “complete” for a book title, the apparent misspelling in The Compleat Spanker’s title still makes me wince a little. I can’t help but think that the book has a giant typo on its cover. People already have a low opinion of folks into BDSM; there’s no need to arm them with the belief that we are semi-literate too. But I digress.

Lady Green, aka Janet W. Hardy, deserves heaps of praise for keeping this guide to spanking short. I imagine she must have been tempted to pad this book to make it longer but the book is perfectly fine at the length it is. If there is something missing, it is a history of spanking. I, for one, would love to know more about spanking’s history and place in our culture. I cannot help but wonder how long has spanking been observed as an erotic practice. I would also love a formal explanation as to why the British seem particularly obsessed with spanking. I suspect the answer to the latter question stems from the practice of corporal punishment in the British elementary school system. But that’s only a guess. At any rate, the lack of a history is only a minor quibble and likely would do little to make one a better spanker or spankee.

The Compleat Spanker covers all the basics from negotiation to aftercare that one needs to have a wonderful spanking scene. It even addresses what can go wrong in spanking scenes from their possible causes to how to handle them when they arise – essential information because eventually, no matter how well you know your partner, something will go wrong.

Refreshingly, Lady Green’s writing is long on facts and short on opinions and avoids the use of fictionalized scenes that so often drag down otherwise great BDSM instructional books. Also handy is that instead of including definitions in footnotes or a glossary, definitions appear next to the terms in the book’s margins which neither detracts from the text nor for forces the reader to hunt for the meaning of an essential term. Beware that there are also occasional references to illustrations. Unfortunately, some of these references refer to pages without the promised illustration.

This book is an essential reference for spank-o-philes of all stripes and orientations and the only ass you should beat without it is your own.