Front Cover for Ageplay: From Diapers to Diplomas

By Paul Rulof
Published in 2011 by Nazca Plains Corporation

When Paul Rulof first contacted me to read and review his book Ageplay: From Diapers to Diplomas I had one reservation which was informed by the numerous bad experiences I have had reading BDSM technique books which are ruined by the inclusion of numerous fictional fantasy sequences that obfuscate more than they inform.  Given that ageplay is an activity that exists almost exclusively in the realm of fantasy, a book on the topic seemed highly likely to overindulge in such fiction and completely overwhelm any factual information it might contain.  Reading Ageplay, I discovered that this fear was wholly ungrounded.  More on that later.

Ageplay begins with a brief introduction to what ageplay is.  The first chapter also discusses three spectrums that describe different aspects of ageplay.  The first spectrum is intensity – does someone play on the weekends or do they define their entire life around their adopted role.  The second spectrum is “Symbolic vs. Literary” discusses how people assuming age roles see themselves. Are they merely adopting the role to compare to their adult selves or do they believe that their little role is central to their adult identity.  The final spectrum “Sexual vs. Nonsexual” is straightforward – does the ageplay involve sex or not.

The book progresses to discuss the demographics of ageplay which led to my one editing complaint about the book – FetLife, the kinky social networking site, is repeatedly misspelled as “Fetlife.”  While this may be nitpicky, it is the sort of error that bothers me as a reader.  While acknowledging the limitations of using FetLife to gather useful statistics on the numbers of ageplayers, Rulof makes a reasonable case that there are large number of folks interested in the ageplay.  Next Rulof discusses the reasons that people engage in ageplay before discussing the negative feelings many have about ageplayers.

Over the course of the book Rulof systematically covers multiple aspects of ageplay including roles, relationships, and activities.  He offers practical advice on how to find an ageplay partner and on how ageplay can be introduced into existing relationships. I especially enjoyed the chapter about coming out.  Rulof presents many people’s perspectives about coming out to one’s friends and family and skillfully discusses the pros and cons of coming out while advocating that each person make the decision that is right for them.

One of the best things about Ageplay is that Rulof gives equal time to covering both bigs and littles.  For those unfamiliar with the terms “bigs” and “littles,” they are ageplay terms that are comparable to the BDSM terms “tops” and “bottoms” respectively. Many books devoted to BDSM related topics are often weighted towards either tops or bottoms. The equal time in Ageplay is refreshing.

My favorite thing about Ageplay relates to the concern I mentioned before: Rulof successfully managed to write a book about a roleplay topic without falling into BDSM cliché of splicing fantasy in the middle of fact-based discussion. While Rulof does discuss the fantasy aspects of ageplay, he does so by discussing how they directly relate to the topic being discussed.  Rulof even includes an appendix which briefly lists ageplay scene ideas.

Overall Ageplay is an excellent book for anyone interested in ageplay. It is a comprehensive introduction for those beginning their exploration of this style of play and provides extensive information that also be interesting to long time ageplayers.  Highly recommended.

Front cover for The Sacred Art of Fisting

By Larry R. Shockey
Published in 2009 by Handballheaven.com

In the preface of The Sacred Art of Fisting, Shockey discloses that he ruptured his colon in a fisting scene.  That incident, and his desire to help others avoid the same fate, inspired Shockey to write a class handout that turned into this booklet.

Coming in at 24 pages including the covers, Shockey’s book concisely covers everything needed for a fisting scene with an emphasis on safety from the anatomy of the colon, supplies you’ll need for fisting play, safer fisting sex, cleaning out the colon, aftercare, and cleaning up the scene.  My favorite part is Shockey’s warning to put down plastic over the playspace after playing to avoid slips and falls from wayward lubricants on the floor. While this book is devoted to the subject of anal fisting, most of the material in it applies to vaginal fisting as well.

Shockey also spends several paragraphs discussing HIV, Hepatitis A, B, and C, MRSA, and syphilis and how to avoid spreading them during fisting play.  MRSA is an under-discussed pathogen in the context of STDs, and Shockey deserves kudos for including it here.

The Sacred Art of Fisting is a well-written reference that covers it subject in enough depth to inform, but not so much as to bore the reader with minutae or asides.  If you find a copy of the printed book, it is well worth picking up.  If you cannot find a copy of the printed booklet, it is available as a PDF at http://www.hellholesf.com/SAOF_Final_web.pdf.

Front cover for Navigating Rough Waters: A Beginner’s Guide to the Bd/Sm Scene

by Master Dragon
Published in 2010 by Seek Books

While there are many introductory BDSM books, there are scant few good introductory BDSM books. When I first began reading Navigating Rough Waters: A Beginner’s Guide to the Bd/Sm Scene, I had high hopes this might prove to be another book to add to the short list of books worth recommending to the novice.

This book has several things going for it. First, it was essentially self-published. Not only am I a fan of self-publishing, I hoped that a self-published effort would be free of the pervasive (and in my opinion ruinous) BDSM conceit where fictional scenes are interspersed throughout instructional text.  Also, I was unfamiliar with the author, publisher, and even the book prior to purchasing this.  Lacking any expectations about an author, publisher, or book frees a book from having to live up to (or live down) preconceived notions and allows the work to speak for itself.

As I began reading I appreciated that the book does not attempt to teach the novice about play styles and techniques. Instead, the author aims to give the BDSM novice advice on what to expect and be wary of in the BDSM community. Given the abundance of resources available to someone wanting to learn about play styles, this is a refreshing approach for an introductory BDSM book.

The best thing about the book is the author’s easygoing conversational writing style.  Unfortunately this also turns out to be the book’s Achilles heel for a couple of different reasons.

In conversations, there is a back and forth and feedback from the listener (reader).  When the listener doesn’t understand something, he has the opportunity to ask for clarification or further explanation. Unfortunately, an author does not have the benefit of this feedback.  Too often the book wanders aimlessly from one topic to another without really explaining any topic clearly. As an author Master Dragon often seems to assume that a reader will follow along with his explanations of terms and experiences when they are ambiguous. This assumption frustrates understanding.  I think it would be particularly frustrating for the novice reader for whom the book is supposedly written.

The other major problem with the author’s style is that he seems far too interested in puns and asides.  Anyone familiar with my writing might find it ironic that I would be critical of someone for excessive use of asides (I really am fighting the urge to add an aside here. Oops, too late.)  Unfortunately, Master Dragon often becomes so overly focused on the cleverness of his asides that he seems to forget his original point.

Another annoyance with the book is that its style is inconsistent.  While the author states in the book’s beginning that using a capital letter to begin a word is intended to add emphasis, he often adds emphasis with bolding, italics, quotation marks, and even capitalization of entire words.

Also puzzling are some of the words he chooses to use to describe common BDSM ideas. For example, instead of calling people who like to both bottom and top, “switches,” the author refers to them as “switchers.”  He also generally refers to BDSM as “Bd/Sm.”  To his credit, he does explain what he means by the term “Bd/Sm,” but he never explains why he uses this term instead of BDSM.  Maddeningly, he switches to the more standard usage of BDSM in the chapter “History” (and switches back to “Bd/Sm” afterwards).

In addition to the switching of terms mid-book, the “History” chapter seems to derail the book completely.  The history is jumbled, and seriously detracts from the book’s flow.  Master Dragon acknowledges his limited knowledge of BDSM history at the end of this chapter and even asks those with more knowledge to contact him should he produce a second edition of this book.  The book would be better off if the chapter were omitted entirely as it adds nothing to the book but confusion and is never referenced outside itself (save for a mention of its existence in the book’s introduction).

Another perplexing chapter in this book is the “Stories” chapter.  Its purpose is hinted at in the preceding pages and the chapter’s beginning, but is not ever fully explained. Presumably, the stories are included to illustrate some of the author’s points with real world examples. As nearly as I can surmise, these stories (save for the one written as an observation from the author) appear to be responses to questions he has asked the storytellers.  Unfortunately, he fails to share with us the question he asked each of these respondents, so the stories flail about with no context or apparent purpose.

As much as I really wanted to like this book and recommend it, I can’t. This is a book in desperate need of a diligent editor. While the author comes across like a nice guy who probably does have some useful advice for someone just beginning their exploration of BDSM, he is unable to get these points across on the page as the book meanders from topic to topic and fails to meaningfully convey much of any value.

Front cover for Protocols: A Variety of Views

Edited by L.C. Morgynn
Published in 2008 by The Nazca Plains Corporation

I really wanted to like this book for a couple of reasons. First, there are few good books about Master/slave dynamics and I hoped this work would turn out to be the exception.  Secondly, I know at least one of the contributors personally and have met several of the others, so being able to write a thoroughly glowing review might save me from moments of social awkwardness.  That said, as a reviewer, I am committed to the truth. From my standpoint, heaping praise upon a book that isn’t very good will inevitably be far more awkward than acknowledging the truth.

For those of you not familiar with Master/slave (M/s) relationships, allow me to explain my understanding of protocols.  In general, protocols are guidelines that define how slaves in the relationship are expected to behave. They can take many forms and vary from person to person and relationship to relationship. For example, in some relationships, the master expects the slave to walk a few steps behind the master in public. For other masters, the expectation is that the slave will walk next to or even in front of the master.

Protocols benefit both masters and slaves.  For masters, protocols allow them an opportunity to guide their slave and communicate which behaviors they expect their slaves to follow. For slaves, protocols serve as a constant reminder of the relationship, absolves them from having to guess about what to do to please their master, and allows them to focus their energies and attention to the master’s needs and desires.

As I mentioned, how masters implement protocols in their relationships varies from person to person.  For some masters the slave is always expected to follow the protocol regardless of the situation, while others may only expect one set of protocols in the privacy of their home and another in the company of non-kinky friends and relatives. For example, the slave may be expected to always ask permission to go to the bathroom at home, but asking for said permission while in the company of master’s 90 year-old Baptist grandmother might make master less than thrilled. Similarly, protocols can change over time as the needs and abilities of all parties to the relationship change.

Just as there are differences in which protocols slaves are expected to follow, there are differences in how these things are communicated. Some masters communicate all of their protocol expectations verbally. Others have created handbook that explicitly state these expectations in whatever detail the master chooses.

As began reading this book, I expected the book to address different ideas of how to implement protocols, different notions of what protocols others use in their relationships, and so on.  The topic of protocols is certainly a rich one and deserving of much discussion.  Given that virtually every M/s relationship has its own set of protocols, one would reasonably expect a variety of different opinions on the type and variety of protocols that various masters use. Unfortunately, while the title promises “a variety of views” about protocols there is not any significant debate or points of disagreement between the various authors.  Most of the essays follow the same format: the author defines protocols using a dictionary or similar source, relates how that definition applies to Master/slave relationships, and describes how they have instituted protocols in their lives.

As I read, I was reminded that I often lament that BDSM-related books include unnecessary padding.  However in this case, I noticed that the essays in this particular book are far too brief and are annoyingly repetitive. Yet strangely, following the essays about protocols are essays about other topics and book reviews. While these essays are enjoyable to read, they don’t really directly relate to the book’s topic and give all of the appearance of padding.  What we are left with is a mess.

This would have been a much better book if a single author (or perhaps the editor) had defined what protocols are and left the other writers to use that as a framework to either build upon or react against. Alternately, the editor could have asked the writers to write about a single aspect of protocols. Either approach would have resulted in a much more cohesive and informative work, because what we are left with feels like a wasted opportunity.

While this book was generally a disappointment, it did serve to make me think about protocols in my own relationship, and I still plan to read other books in this seemingly ubiquitous series with the hope that they are better than this one.

Front cover for The Toybag Guide to Medical Play

By Tempest
Published in 2006 by Greenery Press

The easiest way for me to decide how much I like a book is my reaction to its length.  A book that seems far too long, you can bet it is not a title that I enjoy.  On the other hand, wishing a book were longer is a sure sign that it is good.  In the case of The Toybag Guide to Medical Play, I wish the book were much, much longer.

This particular guide begins with a discussion on what medical play is.  The book’s general premise is that medical play is a form of role play. I know lots of folks love role play, but I have never understood its appeal, and ordinarily a book with such a heavy role play focus would be a turn off for me.  However, embedded in the text are wonderful tips for creating and using various medical toys.  It also contains a nice introduction to such play options as enemas, speculums, vet wrap, and medical gags.  Though it explicitly does not offer any instruction on catheterization, inflation, and sounding, it does inform the reader of their existence. It also includes an impressive list of references and resources.

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.