Things are pretty lonely here at the UCTMW World HQ with Mistress on her long journey. Slave keeps waking up, reaching unconsciously for her delicious body, and coming up with one of those too many pillows she has used to cover our bed. (It's a babe thing?)Pathetic, I know.
I've followed her protocol.
A daily "milking" to keep me "out of trouble". And a cock shot sent via snapchat to keep down on all those cock pics replicating themselves on our Apple photo apps. We still have images of the WC's special occasion cock popping up from time to time!
When she called yesterday, Mistress seemed pleased with waking up to an image of my "angry" cock longing for the real thing.
"It made me horny, Slave."
I forgot to ask if any of the guys she has encountered have been flirting. Contemplating Mistress finding a quiet spot below deck from some late night mischief is something to fuel those morning milkings, I suppose.
In her absence I've decided to sort through and post some flash back photos to stimulate all of our imaginations. This is a pic from one of our "Switch Sundays".
But today's blog focuses on the recent controversy at Northwestern University, fueled by an article by NW Prof Laura Kipnis, " Sexual Paranoia Strikes Academe, in which the lady professor takes on the notion that every relationship between a faculty member and a female student necessarily amounts to ab abuse of power, or even rape.
When
I was in college, hooking up with professors was more or less part of the
curriculum. Admittedly, I went to an art school, and mine was the lucky
generation that came of age in that too-brief interregnum after the sexual
revolution and before AIDS turned sex into a crime scene replete with
perpetrators and victims—back when sex, even when not so great or when people
got their feelings hurt, fell under the category of life experience. It’s not
that I didn’t make my share of mistakes, or act stupidly and inchoately, but it
was embarrassing, not traumatizing.
As
Jane Gallop recalls in Feminist Accused of Sexual Harassment (1997), her own
generational cri de coeur, sleeping with professors made her feel cocky, not
taken advantage of. She admits to seducing more than one of them as a grad
student—she wanted to see them naked, she says, as like other men. Lots of
smart, ambitious women were doing the same thing, according to her, because it
was a way to experience your own power.
But
somehow power seemed a lot less powerful back then. The gulf between students
and faculty wasn’t a shark-filled moat; a misstep wasn’t fatal. We partied
together, drank and got high together, slept together. The teachers may have
been older and more accomplished, but you didn’t feel they could take advantage
of you because of it. How would they?
Obviously, times have changed. Professor Kipnis even found herself in her own Title IX Inquisition when female anti-harassment student activists accused her of "retaliating" against them simply by publishing an article that disagreed with their point of view.
This got Mistress and Slave talking the other night about a story she had shared a long time ago.
"Didn't you have sex with one of your profs in college, Mistress."
"I did Slave...."
We reviewed the details. She was about 19 or 20. It was Sophomore year on her small liberal arts college in the heartland. He was about 33 or so - the same age difference between me and Mistress - married with kids at home.
Their fling was sparked - or accommodated - by late nights in the offices of the student newspaper that Mistress edited.
"I suppose it began with him looking over my shoulder at one of those old lay-out screens. Rubbing my shoulders...."
Hmmm..... not unlike the scenario of the young Mistress and the older political activist in the campaign headquarters of that short Greek guy running for President in 1988.
"So where did you do it with him, Mistress...."
"Ohh..... the newspaper office. Or his faculty office. It was a small town, and a small campus. We had to be very careful."
"So did you feel exploited, Mistress?"
She snickered.
"No Slave.... it was hot. But a little strange when I had classes with him, and I had a few."
"Did you get good grades?"
"I suppose I did. But no better than the grades I got in other classes."
Sounds Like Mistress would be on the same page as Professor Kipnis. Maybe I'd feel different about my own daughters doing it with their professors, but I suppose Mistress's Mom would not have been amused had she known the messy details. But then who wants to know all the details about our kids personal lives once they pass 18?
As for Slave, I can't say I would have complained if a lady prof had hit on me. Sadly, the only "flirty" behavior I can recall from my academic career involved a Math teaching nun in high school. But it was all smiles and solicitous small talk. Sister Roberta never offered to show me what was hidden beneath that black habit.
