For some reason I wasn’t expecting the Throe to be as big as it was. I figured it’d be a couple feet by a couple feet, enough to put under the most important areas. But no, the Throe is biiiiig! At 54″ x 71″, it covers almost my entire double mattress. This was a very happy surprise. Even better: although it’s sizable, it folds/rolls into a small enough bundle for me to pack into my toy bag and take to play parties as a barrier to be used on dungeon furniture. It’s WAY sexier than a sheet, that’s for sure!

If all of this is sounding good, let me assure you the Throe feels just as good as it sounds. Both sides are like heaven against my skin–partially because I’m no longer lying in a wet spot, but mostly because the fabric just feels damned awesome! It is worth noting that the satiny side seems to absorb a little more quickly than the fuzzy side, but it wasn’t a huge difference; I would say that both sides do their job very well.

The Fascinator Throe is available in three different colors/fabrics for $90 at Babeland. Is it spendy? Yes. But is it worth it? ABSOLUTELY. Consider it an investment, and a very hard-earned break for your sheets.

Oh, and since the original question from Babeland was, “If you had a Throe where would you keep it?,” here are a few photos in answer:

And when I’m done…

My most sincere thanks to the lovely folks at Babeland for keeping me in the swag!

She is not too afraid, too tired or too busy to give herself completely over to her sexuality and sensuality. She is not afraid to look in the mirror simply to admire and not to calculate or judge. She is not afraid to love and show it, or hate and show it. She doesn’t let potential consequences keep her from being angry. She feels. She gives herself to feeling.

She is my heart, hidden deep inside my chest, and at times she beats her wings so strongly against the bars surrounding her that she cannot be ignored, sedated or controlled.

She is my light, and if you look out of the corner of your eye when the night is dark and the moon is swollen full above, you will see her shining through.

I want someone to look deeply into my eyes, open me up, take out all my cogs and wheels and gears and, with a touch, file away all the rough edges.

I need my tears seduced from me like a cloudburst in response to a wise man’s dance. I need them savored and cherished like life-giving elixir.

I crave the gossamer touch of another soul caressing mine, silk on silk twining into one single strand.

I want to drown, only to have them lead me to discover that I can breathe under the water of their possession. I want to be possessed, exorcised, possessed again.

I want to be free of want, to be beyond need, to simply float in the ether of our combined being. To be one. If only for one moment in the eternity of memory.

Go ahead, take a wild guess as to whose bed this is. Tons of green, somewhat geometric pattern on the comforter, bondage-friendly but still pretty bedframe, twin floggers hanging from the end post there? Could only be my bed, right?

I love this bed. It’s my sanctuary, my own little slice of peace. (Never mind that I often complain about the semi trucks offloading their cargo right across the street that is just outside that window.) But, I know of one way that could make it even better: one of these.

Yes, I have long been coveting a Fascinator Throe by Liberator, and now is my chance to finally score one for review. You see, I am not ashamed (nor should anyone be) to admit that I am a squirter, a gusher, a female ejaculator. And, although my mattress does have a protective lining to keep its warranty intact, I will also admit that I am just fussy enough to not want my comforter and/or sheets to be soaked during the course of a good time. Nor do I want to have to sleep in a wet spot, or change my sheets when I would rather be lying around basking in a post-coital glow. And let’s face it, towels are not always–or even often–sufficient.

So, this is my wish. I want a Throe to sex up my little haven, so that I will have an even better excuse to visit more often.

Fingers crossed!

Recently, I’ve started to see couples everywhere. Every-fucking-where. And the single people I did see… well, they weren’t looking at me. (Or, okay, I didn’t see them looking at me.) Is this whiny? Absofuckinglutely ,yes it is. And no, I’m not proud of it. But I will own it. I have been very down lately about being unpartnered, and forgetting that it is just as much a blessing to be single as it is to be in a relationship. And, if I can get my mind to cooperate, this will be the last day I forget, and the first day I start remembering that there is no need to feel any kind of rush to be in a relationship. There is no rush. Anything that is pushed to happen before its natural time is fundamentally wrong. Trust me when I say, I have had my fill of relationships gone wrong.

This always happens to me. I get into a relationship, and I start missing the blessings of being single. I get out of a relationship, and I start missing the blessings of being partnered. Is envy, perhaps, the natural human state? Or do I just need to settle down? Not currently being of a mindset to wax philosophical—Pride was FABULOUS but damn I’m exhausted now—I’m going to go with the former. I just need to settle the fuck down and let whatever is going to happen happen on its own timeframe. And in the meantime, ENJOY being single! I don’t think singledom is necessarily better (or worse) than being partnered, but it has its advantages. I’d do well to remember them until such a time comes when I don’t have to.

Well, that was a fucking upbeat conclusion. Jesus.

What would you say to a newly-identified femme? Do you have advice, tips, tricks, or anything else you would like to share with them? Perhaps you have a story to tell or want to reminisce about when you were first femme-identified?

I actually started this a few days ago, but realized that I needed to write an actual column then respond to the prompt. So, now that I have introduced myself over on my column, back to the original topic: advice for newly-identified femmes. And for my advice, I will tell you what I wish someone had told me when I first discovered the world of femme:

There is more than one way to be a femme.

It’s as simple as that. Even looking at my fellow Femme Galaxy authors, you will see very clearly that there is more than one way to do it and do it successfully. Really, however you rock it is rocking it successfully because there is no failure to be found in being yourself.

Perhaps for some this advice is overly simplistic. Even looking back, I can’t believe that I didn’t conclude from the get-go that there are as many ways to be femme as there are femmes in the world. I knew all along I wasn’t a butch, but I knew there was a bit of boy in me. I knew I wasn’t one of those femmes, luscious though they are, who wear only skirts and dresses and who find pants of any kind horribly uncomfortable. I wasn’t one of those femmes for whom stiletto heels and lipstick are everyday occurrences. And in not being one of those femmes—essentially, high femme—I felt like I was a femme failure.

Though it was a more or less natural part of the growing-as-a-femme process, it was also an unnecessary pain, because there is no one true way to be femme. One can be a femme and wear jeans; one can be a femme who rarely wears makeup; one can be a femme who wins arm wrestling and, yes, belching contests. It is entirely possible to be something of a two-spirit femme: a mix of high- and tomboy femmes whose appearance and attitude changes according to mood and circumstance—or, whose appearance and attitude combines at all times the various aspects of either and any kind of femme. It is absolutely doable to combine both the swagger and the sashay to create a strut that screams your name and makes everyone look twice.

Go forth and rock your femmeninity, my friends. It doesn’t matter how you do it, as long as it’s all you. Physical trappings aside, femme starts and ends in the heart, so if you feel it there, you’re doing it right.

That being said! Chances are you DO know about Courtney Trouble, and if you know about her then you should know about her and Tina Horn’s project, Queer Porn TV. QPTV was gracious enough to give me a temporary press pass into its annals (insert suggestive eyebrow waggling here) and HOLY PORN MECCA BATMAN. Because I have a huge and unabashed crush on Tina Horn, I snuck a peek at her scene with Dylan Ryan; to say it was mindblowingly hot is a gross and laughable understatement. I also checked out James Darling’s and Wolf Hudson’s video – it too was a scene to be reckoned with, and I didn’t even get to part two!

There were a few other features of QueerPorn.TV that I enjoyed as well. Not only was there a “tour” through various pictures of QPTV stars but also (free) interviews of the performers. This plays right into one of my favorite aspects of queer porn: that the stars are somehow more human, more approachable and relatable than those of more mainstream porn. Not only that, but through those interviews I came to find (not surprisingly) that these performers are not only sexy as hell, but they are also WHIP smart and passionate about their work, their identities and the issues that surround the queer community. (I also developed another crush, on Juliette March. I think it was the eyebrow quirk.)

After my brief foray into that oasis of queer porn, I am seriously considering buying at least one month’s membership. You can also buy or rent downloads of the scenes, or if you are well and truly broke, there is the free alternative QueerPornTube, which includes trailers from the scenes as well as amateur exhibitionists showing off their hotness. But if you have some spare change lying around, with all the delicious queerness waiting for you within the e-halls of Queer Porn TV, the investment is well worth it.

(And oh yeah, if any of the lovelies from QPTV decide to hit up the PNW – call me!)

Best Lesbian Erotica 2011 is the latest in a long and distinguished line of clearly self-explanatory Cleis Press productions, edited by Kathleen Warnock and selected/introduced by Lea DeLaria. This year’s loose theme revolves around location and the unusual places in which we sometimes find ourselves engaging in lascivious acts. Some examples include the passenger car of a train passing through India, a pedicurist’s chair, the front seat of a classic car parked at the beach and a mythical–or is it?–hut in the middle of the woods.

I’ve been a fan Cleis Press for a while, especially their Best Lesbian Erotica series. The 2011 edition is no disappointment to my fandom, showcasing some of the most unique imaginations, engaging writing styles and gut-wrenching sexiness I have seen produced in the world of erotica. For the past couple of years at least—possibly longer—the Best Lesbian Erotica series has been foraying into the world of alternative gender identity and presentation, publishing increasingly queer works that feed into my love of all things pertaining to genderfuckery.

I would be hard-pressed to pick a favorite story, although Kiki DeLovely’s “The Third Kiss,” Kirsty Logan’s “Witch” and Charlotte Dare’s “Carried Away inSanta Fe” really stood out in the crowd. However, there wasn’t a single story that didn’t wow me in one way or another.

If you’re into hot queer erotica, consider this anthology a worthy investment. With the variety of samples Best Lesbian Erotica 2011 offers, you are highly likely to find something to your taste, although I’m very willing to bet that most of not the entire book will leave you as riled as it left me.

My thanks extend as always to Babeland for supplying me with such sexy literature.