It’s a trick question. There are many things that rhyme with slinky hex, like blinky rex or tinky dex or linky necks. The answer that’s probably on your mind, though, is “kinky sex,” at least if you’re a veteran, seasoned pervert like I am.
Choose about a score and change of smart, creative, sex-positive folks, make sure they’re all veteran, seasoned perverts, make ’em all members in some sort of capacity of the same amorphous poly network, and put ’em in a 14th century castle in the south of France, and a certain level of slinky hex is the inevitable result. And just to clarify, when I say “a certain level,” I mean “rather a lot.”
Now, had I had my wits about me, rather than being addled by a day-long ride in a van with more than a dozen other folks and all their various and sundry bits of luggage, musical instruments, computers, sex toy bags, and other assorted implements of destruction, I would have photographed every room of the castle immediately upon our arrival, before the debauchery began. As it was, I barely managed to get any shots of the castle’s interior, and had to rely on the fact that another of our entourage was more proactive in that regard and kind enough to dump her camera’s card onto my laptop.
This is the main downstairs living area of the castle. This room, like the upstairs turret room, was soon converted into a play space, a process which had already begun by the time this photo was taken:
That’s a king-sized mattress; the fireplace is bigger than you think.
It’s also weirder than you think. There’s a big metal plate in the back of the fireplace, which is adorned with a relief sculpture that looks to me like a bunch of heretics being burned at the stake, which is rather grim decoration if you ask me.
There are also a bunch of big iron chains hanging down from the chimney, ending in a wide assortment of different hooks, some of them very large. I assume they’re probably for cooking or something; I’m sure I wouldn’t know about such things.
The odd religious imagery wasn’t going to deter such a group of seasoned perverts, though, and soon there was a roaring fire going in the fireplace. Not long after that, there was a roaring orgy going in front of the fireplace, though I didn’t attend that particular event as I still hadn’t met many of the folks there, most of whom had long histories with one another.
As the week progressed, though, I had the opportunity to engage in rather a lot of slinky hex, and to get many wonderful photos, some of which are quite lovely and one or two of which are quite sweet as well.
Most of those photos, you won’t see, as the folks involved chose not to have them posted. This is an unfortunate loss, but think of it like cell phone service to a Bronze Age tribesman: you can’t miss what you’ve never seen.
There are, however, some pictures which I do have permission to post. If you’re reading this at work, or you have delicate sensitivities easily offended by carnal images of the human form, or if you are living in China or Australia or any other place where sex is strictly forbidden by law, you might want to consider not clicking on the cut below.
If, on the other hand, pictures and descriptions of orgy in a castle seems your cup of tea, click here!
The castle is surrounded on two sides by forest, with the a third side being dominated by a wide, sweeping meadow that descends to a riverbed below. This being the case, it wasn’t long before someone suggested that perhaps some of the trees down by the edge of the river might make for a lovely place to do some rope suspension.
The group being what it was, finding volunteers to be tied to trees was about as difficult as finding privileged white guys at a Tea Party rally. Rope in hand and volunteers in tow, we headed down the path to the water’s edge, looking for suitable trees, of which there were many.
seinneann_ceoil had never been suspended before, so when the opportunity came up, she seized the day. Our rigger had some mad rope skills, yo, and a grasp of human psychology that would make Sigmund Freud tuck his penis envy ‘twixt his legs and slink home; put together, these things make for a formidable bondage expert, or a good way to spend a lazy afternoon, depending on which way you look at it.
In the poly community, there’s a depressing number of men who are OK with “their” wives or girlfriends having female lovers, but feel threatened by the thought of their partners having other male lovers, on the misguided and entirely inaccurate (but socially prevalent) belief that two women together isn’t really sex and therefore isn’t really threatening. Those men have never seen the way emanix and seinneann_ceoil interact. But I digress.
seinneann_ceoil was floaty for quite a while.
Now, I don’t want to give the impression that it was all slinky hex and nothing else. Many were the times when the hex stopped for meals or for sleep or for Tweeting, or even for non-sexual socializing.
And sometimes, it was necessary to pause the slinky hex long enough to look at pictures of the slinky hex.
For me, one of the best parts of the entire vacation was the opportunity to meet the folks who collectively are part of or associated with the House of Joy. It would be difficult to imagine a more amazing bunch of people in any setting.
Another of the best parts of the vacation was the ability to explore all sorts of new varieties of slinky hex that even as a veteran, seasoned pervert, I’d never had the pleasure of experiencing before. The human sexual experience is so broad that it is literally inexhaustible in any one human lifetime; nobody, no matter how ambitious or adventurous, can possibly hope to do it all. That’s why I tend to be skeptical of claims of sexual experience as an asset; no matter how experienced someone may be, we’re all novices at something.
Like sounding, for instance.
emanix, like any good Boy Scout, lives by the motto “be prepared,” which is why she always makes sure to carry emergency nipple clamps and emergency sounds with her. You never can tell when you might be hiking along a trail far from home or trapped in a van somewhere or something, and an orgy might break out.
Now, to be quite honest, I’d never been sounded before. In fact, the idea of it had always been a hard limit until just recently. Funny how that works; the more you explore, the more you find that you’re willing to explore (and, contrawise, the less you explore, the more you pay money to watch other folks exploring the things you’re afraid of on the Internet, which is why the predominantly Mormon city of Salt Lake City has more subscribers per capita to the S&M videos at Kink.com than any other place in the US…but again, I digress).
Now, I will admit to a certain trepidation surrounding the idea, by which I mean it scared the holy crap out of me. For some reason I’ve never quite been able to puzzle out, it seems that in my life I have encountered many women who quite delight in frightening me. There was this one time, at a lesbian Halloween party, when the lovely host was mixing lemon drops, see, and… But maybe that story should wait for another day.
Yeah. One of the most intense sexual experiences of my life. And I don’t say that lightly.
This next picture totally isn’t what it looks like at all.
Well, unless you think it looks like knife play with a person who’s afraid of knives immediately after a bit of hot wax play. If that’s what you think it looks like, then it’s exactly what it looks like.
And they do say that joy shared is joy multiplied, or something like that.
Yes, the shirt does say “Talk Nerdy To Me.” Geeks have the best sex lives.
That’s seinneann_ceoil whose back you see here. The lovely lady in the background is L, who ended up spending the night in the castle turret with us, which was a wonderful, if somewhat crowded, delight. The next morning, L woke up bright and chipper, for which I forgave her, and bounced out of the room. She came back in holding an enormous armload of dildoes and chirped “I’m awake now, let’s have sex!”
I recall saying something along the lines of “Mrrrghrrrgh.” seinneann_ceoil and emanix both thought it sounded like a fantastic idea, though, so democracy (in the sense of “three wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for breakfast”) carried the day.
Not long after that, the lovely ladies were all wearing strap-ons and I was held down in the middle, and…
Some of the pictures of that morning are actually quite sweet, or at least as sweet as pictures of three women gang-raping a guy can be, though I’m not sure they’re really fit fare for this journal.
The dildoes in question were all Tantus Feeldoes (specifically, two in the “really really big” size and one “holy mother of God!” model), which I’ve written about here. In that post, I wrote that one of the selling points of silicone is that you can wash it in the dishwasher, though I’ve never actually known anyone who’s done that.
Well, as it turns out, people really do. Works a treat, too.
I’m not quite sure what the thing on my back is. emanix called it a
vagina tentacle octopus beast Hairy Sex Monster, or something like that. The one on seinneann_ceoil is a sex angel with a Feeldoe, which is probably good advertising for Tantus, now that I think about it.