The RodeoH Harness is not the kind of strap-on harness you’ll probably be used to seeing. Instead of a tangle of leather or webbing straps, it looks like an innocuous pair of boypants. Now, I actually like the look of a standard strap harness when it’s done right, don’t get me wrong, but this is something else. It’s a different appeal altogether and I’m certainly damn glad the RodeoH briefs exist. They fill a great niche and look and perform fantastically.
The RodeoH Harness comes in a soft drawstring bag printed with the name RodeoH and some product information. Included in the bag is a metal dog-tag with the word “rodeoH” stamped on it. I know some people don’t really go for the dog-tag, but I loved it. It’s possibly because I think dog-tags are awesome, though.
The iconic RodeoHs, and the ones I own, are black with red accents and a light grey piping, but you can also get them in black and light grey as well as black and dark grey (though those styles don’t go as big as the main style does). The black and red is my favourite, though. I initially thought the piping was white when I saw it online, but it is actually a very light grey, which is great as any possible discolouration will be less obvious. I’m not the best at domestic malarkey.
The RodeH harness is, as I say, basically a pair of boypants with a wide waistband to support the weight of your various cocks. The front of the pants has an O-ring sewn in discreetly to the material, through which you place your dildo. Behind the O-ring is a flap of fabric (red in my version, making for a distinctive look) which keeps the base of the toy from contacting the skin and getting all hot and sticky. Like a little cock pocket.
The harness is made from 95% cotton, 5% spandex, if that means anything to you. Washing instructions are to machine wash cold or handwash for best results (this will keep the colours stronger for longer) and then hang or lay flat to dry.
You pick your size of RodeoH by measuring around your hips and I was between sizes at 51″. I was sent the 52″-55″ harness, their biggest size, but feel I could have actually easily fit the 46″-49″ too simply because of the comfy stretchiness. Handily, if I do need to shrink my RodeoHs at all, I can tumble dry them carefully on medium.
Pesky details aside, let’s get down to what the RodeoH harness is like. Firstly, I look hot in my RodeoHs. And I don’t think it’s just me. I’m pretty certain everyone would look hot in these things. They’re sexy but not too revealing and they’re very flattering. What’s more important, for me at least, is that I totally kink for this kind of boypants. Like, ridiculously. Heck, the RodeoH Tumblr is practically porn for me. I mean, look how sexy these things are:
I love the masculine aesthetics of the harness and it just looks fantastic. Not only that, but I really admire the brand image and style too and I think that RodeoHs as a company really seems to be a part of the communities they’re catering for, which is amazing.
So the looks are great, but what’s even more impressive is the feel. The RodeoHs are super comfortable. In fact, when I wear them on their own, I forget I’m actually wearing them. They feel supremely smooth and kind of cool on my vulva too. I feel snug, though they have plenty of leeway for weight loss/gain. I’m quite happy wearing them all day instead of normal knickers and they are just wonderful. That means you can be ready to go any time and you can even pack all day. Honestly, I cannot tell you enough how fantastic these are just to wear.
Let’s be honest, this is what these are all about for me. The little “cock pocket” does very well at holding my packing cock and wearing my RodeoHs all day with my packer in was also incredibly comfortable. It was a bit weird at first as obviously the shaft of my packer comes through the hole and then hangs freely on the outside of the RodeoHs instead of being tucked inside pants, but it worked better than I thought. I only occasionally had to deal with the shaft going AWOL and adjusting how you hang is totally natural. If I want to be a bit more “in place”, I can wear a pair of boypants over the harness to keep my package where it should be instead of swinging free.
Very occasionally the top edge of the packer will come out through the O-ring, but there was no way it’d come loose or fall out, so I don’t mind that much. Perhaps a packer with a firmer base would work better, though.
The most important thing about packing with my RodeoHs was that I almost forgot I was packing at all. That’s it, it’s just so natural. When I pack in normal boypants, I can feel the packer stick to me (not fun), I have to worry about slippage and it feels basically like I have something shoved down my trousers. With RodeoHs, it felt like I had a cock. Sure, some kind of cock with no sensation, but I adjusted myself like a man and it hung like a man’s cock and it was just all so normal and natural. I now wouldn’t pack any other way. No going back!
I don’t actually get to use my strap-on harnesses for girlsex or pegging (packing only, sadly), so I can’t give as full a review in this area as other users, but I did of course try out several dildos in the RodeoH harness. The only big downside I found to using these harness-pants is that the O-ring is sewn into the fabric itself and so there’s no way of swapping out O-rings. This means you’re limited as to what dildos you can use with your RodeoHs. RodeoH themselves recommend dildos 5″-6″ long by 1.5″-2″ diameter, which is a pretty decent range that will accommodate many cocks. It can take my Acute, my Adam (as seen above) and my VIP Super Soft among others, but it can’t cope with the width towards the base of my BS Is Nice Basic (Medium). And there’s no way I’m getting the Max in it.
The dildo sits well depending on where you position the waistband of the pants, so it’s somewhat adjustable in position. It’s perhaps not quite as sturdy as a strap-based harness, but then my RodeoHs are a little on the loose side and could be tightened up via careful shrinking if I want them more secure. If you get the right size for you, I’m sure you’ll be impressed with the firmness given by what is basically a clever pair of pants. Given my RodeoHs are a little loose I actually can access my vagina and clit whilst wearing them, which is handy, but you might not find the same with a tighter pair.
The RodeoH Harness is a fantastic addition to the world of strap-on play and packing as well as, I don’t doubt, to the transgender and genderqueer communities. They’re an endlessly stylish pair of masculine-style pants that look incredibly sexy and are also very functional. I love their style and the company itself. I definitely love how smooth and comfortable they are. As I say, I don’t get to used them in play at the moment, but for packing I can barely even think of going without them any more. They have absolutely changed my packing experience.
Before I was limited to using ordinary underwear to hold my cock and I was often afraid of it falling out or going astray in my pants and looking ridiculous. It also wasn’t comfortable, tending to stick to my skin, and it just didn’t feel sexy. It felt like a lump of blah shoved down my knickers. With the RodeoHs I feel secure, stylish and wonderfully masculine. With these I take pride in my cock. It feels natural and comfortable and transforms the whole experience. If you pack, I highly recommend these. And hey, since they’re so, so comfy, they make great boypants too, if a bit expensive for just that!
I highly recommend this harness/packing pants combo, so if you’re keen head over and get a RodeoH Harness from RodeoH themselves right now. And check out their Tumblr while you’re at for some incredibly hot and aesthetic shots. ♦
♦ “Close your eyes,” I said and he did. He lay back on the bed and shut them firmly, anticipating, always eager to obey when he knew I had something planned. I did have something planned, even if that plan had come together in the space of five minutes in the next room, rooting through The Drawers for kink and kit.
We’re having our housewarming this weekend and it’s fancy dress, because fancy dress is fucking fantastic. I’ve been making a military beret for mine and something clicked in my head when I saw it lying there, discarded. I’d been thinking lacy and stockings, but now…
I shut the door behind me and straddled him at the hips. When I allowed him to open his eyes he saw me dressed in the green beret and a very military-like khaki jumpsuit buttoned to the collarbone. I carried a crop under my arm, swagger stick style. I swear his eyes almost bulged from his head.
He was dressed only in his trousers and he looked beautiful. I’d already been impressed earlier that day by how gorgeous his arms looked: swimmer’s muscles, lean and lithe but strong.
You’ll have to forgive me. I may say it myself, but what he said to me and what I said to him and the roleplaying was so fucking hot. But I forget. My waves of orgasms are too good at wiping out the coastal villages of my memory. The details merge, the lines become brush strokes of eroticism on an Impressionist painting.
So, yeah, I forget stuff.
But the night was swimming with “Yes, Ma’am”s and permission asked and occasional cheek given. I enjoyed ordering him around and domming shit up and punishing insubordination where I found it, rewarding good behaviour too.
I unbuttoned the top of the khaki jumpsuit to show my breasts, naked but for a fishnet bodystocking and, supporting them, an almost Steampunk “bra belt”. My nipples poked through the black fishnet and I leant in towards his face. He sucked on my left nipple with ardour and I gasped and ground into his body beneath me.
Before I knew it, I was surprising myself with an orgasm. My grinding into him wasn’t even involved! This was all from his attention on one of my nipples and I inwardly praised my body as I shuddered on top of him.
Military-style banter that I so wish I could remember followed. Trust me: fucking hot. Crush respectfully suggested we try the experiment again to see if we could reproduce those results and I agreed, but this time I demanded to lie on my back.
He took my nipple in his mouth again and he began to suck, but my nipple wouldn’t be so easily swayed this time. No matter. As he sucked hard I began to rub my crotch over my jumpsuit and, not that he knew that, my black PVC thong underneath. I rubbed furiously, so turned on by his desire and the sheer fucking hotness of it all. Soon I was shuddering, a second orgasm rippling through me.
Now Crush was bold with lust and, as we switched places again, asked me if he could spank me.
Well, I was in charge as his Commanding Officer, so what to do? But a filthy thought occurred. I quite like the idea of hurting a man, something he might not necessarily like, as a form of payment by him to get something he really wants. I’m not sure what it is about it. Perhaps the idea that his lusts have overtaken him so?
In any case, I offered the price of five pinches of his nipple for an undefined period of spanking me. He accepted nervously and I began, gently, to pinch him. I brusquely told him to count and he did. But he tried to be cheeky, tried to count three when it was two. So I started again. He counted the fourth pinch before I’d actually done it, so guess what? I started again.
This time there were no mistakes and I dismounted him, leaning forward on hands and knees as he spanked me with the red paddle. Sometimes I hate that paddle. Sometimes, as you’ll see, I love it. But right now it was a hard one to take.
Take it I did, though.
Now naked, he sat on the edge of the bed and I produced my black metal handcuffs from the little pile of toys I’d brought in. I set them down and, hot from our exertions, stripped the khaki jumpsuit from my body. Now he saw the thong and the full glory of my bodystocking as its netting covered my sticky-hot curves.
The hat, I noticed, fell some time during the spanking. Now it was pure kinkwear, but we kept up our roles nonetheless. My geek society would be proud. :P
I opened the cuffs, managing to hook them into my fishnet on the way. Sigh. Unhooking them, I instead attached them to my intended target. I grabbed them by the chain and hoicked his arms above his head, scratching at his chest and back and eyeing him fiercely.
Letting go, I made him scoot up the bed and knelt between his legs, bringing my beloved Tango vibe with me. I placed it between my labia, cushioned by them and kept in place by my thong and thighs. I turned it on and felt it throb. I kissed my way up Crush’s body, crawling seductively, reaching his cock and…
…running my tongue playfully a centimetre above his shaft as if licking, but not. A tease. A torture.
The kisses marched up his chest and neck before I turned and swooped back down on his cock, licking for real this time, making love to him with tongue and lips. I was feral, enthusiastic, I moaned when he leaked pre-come and writhed back and forth, managing to rock against the vibrator nestled in my folds. I came once, twice as I licked fervently and then collapsed on his cock.
I offered to let him fuck me, right then and there. But Crush was on task. He knew I had a goal to reach and figured one more towards it before moving on couldn’t hurt. He asked me to carry on licking and sucking and coming on my bullet vibe, but this time he wanted some dirty talk. And, narcissist that he is, heh, dirty talk about him.
So I told him as I licked him about how hot he makes me, how sexy he looks, his gorgeous body, his thick cock and I licked and sucked. I wriggled and turned up the rumble on my vibrator until I came again, moaning on his cock, gagging myself with his erection.
The finest part of the evening was still to come though. And I’m not even talking about the penetration. No, while that was fantastic, I think I liked the next part better. Remember I said sometimes I love the red paddle?
He wanted to use it on me again, this time while I continued to use the vibrator on myself. I was only too quick to oblige.
It was interesting how through the whole thing, I was still in charge. Even when I asked him what he wanted, even when I shuddered under his hand as he spanked me. It was strange, although it shouldn’t be, and wonderful. I was his superior officer, he a lowly subordinate and I was using him for my kicks. Simple as. Whether he spanked me or not, it was my will and I could easily have him court marshalled in a snap, naturally.
I discarded the ridiculously-named “bra belt” and the thong and leant forward on the bed. He spanked me as I toyed with my clit using the vibrator and for a while it was much the same as the first spanking. Then the rumbling on my clit began to kick in and, as I worked myself towards another orgasm, I found myself wanting more and more and MORE.
“Harder,” I begged and Crush obliged. “Harder,” I cried and he hit harder still. With each gain in arousal I wanted more force, more pain. Soon I was coming hard and Crush was pounding on me as hard as he could. I had never taken this much force for this long before and I kept it up as I rolled into another fantastic climax. I was out of breath, sweating, shaking, I was full of the most wonderful feelings and sensations. I collapsed forward and turned onto my back, gazing at my beautiful lad with wide eyes.
“I love you,” I said, breaking character momentarily.
“I love you too,” he replied.
The sex that followed was frantic and amazing. Once I’d warmed to the large cock inside me, I told him he could go as hard or soft as he liked. I think he tried to teach me a lesson and soon I was bouncing, shrieking, revelling in the wonderful pleasure/pain of his rough thrusts. He came inside me after a time and we flopped next to each other, spent… ♦
♦ Time for another drawing for Sinful Sunday! This is another one that was drawn a little while ago. In fact, longer than the last one! I’m usually terrible at remembering when I drew things, so how do I know when this was done? Simple really, that’s me and Fractal.
Yup! Now, I have to say right now that that is not the most accurate drawing of me in the world (sorry to disappoint, potential stalkers!). It’s got my scar, but it’s just not right in terms of body shape or my face, really. Hooray for idealism! I could be wrong, but Crush agrees.
I did genuinely own that outfit (still have the garterbelt), though, and the scenario is, shall we say, not too different from many that occurred in real life. I am, as always, a sub who switches. Once again, please click to embiggen, if you’d like, and let me know what you think! I hope you like it, feel free to let me know if it inspires any nice thoughts… ♦
It’s always tease, tease, tease
You’re happy when I’m on my knees
♦ I have two coils of rope, which I don’t use enough. This one is white and the other black. This one, I think, may not actually be sold as bondage rope, but it works perfectly well. It’s still strong and thick and soft. It still feels good wrapped around skin.
This picture is from a little while ago now where I decided it was about time we did some shibari on both me and Crush. I really want to get to grips with rope bondage and I still have fancies in my head of having one of those emergency rope bracelets so that I’m ready for emergency bondage at any time. ;)
So, without further ado, here’s me lying back and enjoying the caress of the karada Crush tied me into. It’s not expertly done or anything, but it’s a good start and I loved being in it nonetheless. ♦
See who else is playing Sinful Sunday this week…
♦ I’m British and quite like being so. Overzealous American toy companies occasionally don’t realise this and offer me review items only to shy away in horror at the thought of transatlantic shipping. But if it wasn’t obvious before, it will be now. British.
Please don’t ever call me English, though. After all, England may not believe Cornwall is a real country (though it has as much right, identity and history to be one as Wales, for example) and you may not either, but there’s no harm letting me identify as Cornish and British and Not English. After all, if I don’t get to be Cornish, I’m at least going to try for Adopted Welsh. I’m a fellow Celt after all.
Britain, though, is fantastic. OK, so there’s a bit of an assumption that it’s all basically England (not just from foreigners I might add, the recent Ann Summers I Scream fiasco claimed to be “across the UK” and actually purely visited English cities), but I’m fairly proud of being British and the things Britain has achieved and its history. There’s good and bad, obviously, but what country doesn’t have that?
So, although I actually couldn’t give a shit about the blimmin’ Queen and the monarchy (they’re a glorified tourist attraction, a big hole down which taxes are poured and largely a bunch of cocks, as well as making us look woefully out of touch), I’m glad to go all out on the red, white and blue front for this week’s Sinful Sunday. Plus, our flag is totally sexy.
And remember: the sun will never set on the British Empire. Because God doesn’t trust the British in the dark. ;) ♦
♦ I have a strap-on harness. Two, in fact, though I think one may end up going back to the shop soon as it’s just not as good as the other. Well, technically, three, but one is Vac-u-locked to a phthalatastic Doc Johnson ‘dong’ that I am never going near again. It’s basically waiting on death row for a suitable demise. Fire’d be nice.
Anyway, I have a strap-on harness, or a few, and a goodly number of dildos. Long and fairly thin (like the one below, which is the Tantus Niagara), small and veiny, gorgeous and realistic, neon and slim, curved and chic, flexible and artsy. Heck, with the latest review item I’ve been sent, I even have a fantastic take on the stereotypical massive black one. And all of those have just the right base for putting in a harness.
Crush isn’t into anal or harness stuff, though, so why bother? Well, several reasons actually. Firstly, I originally bought the evil rubber one to experiment with my thoughts around gender. As you may know, I’m into androgyny. I’d love to have a cock of my own to play with and I can even make myself orgasm, in the right mindset, by stroking a cock or strap-on and pretending that I do. A strap-on harness allows me the fun and exploration of make-believe. Plus, it’s great for boinging around and doing the helicopter dick. :P
And besides which, I’m on the lookout for a nice girl to hopefully play with. And oh, how I’d dearly love to fuck a girl with my cock. A real cock would be better, but science continues to fail me, but this would certainly do. I find myself often shifting to a more masculine me around girls, actually. So hopefully if the opportunity arises, my harness will be good for that too.
Until then, I’ll have to stick to strapping one on and hanging out with my wang out. Like so… ♦
♦ I wrote this on the same train as I wrote Make Me. It’s not a direct line to my cunt like that poem, but worthy of inclusion on my blog. I was trying something slightly more complex with this one, so tell me what you think! ♦
The snap of the buckle settling into place
The slight creak of the rope taking the strain
The devil is in the details
Where you are imperfect, the knots are just so,
the lengths carefully chosen,
the cup and curve and caress of hemp on your skin
calculated to tease and comfort
Your asymmetry is his perfect canvas
The collar sits flush against your throat,
emphasising the soft flutter of your pulse
The clamps on your tits are polished to a shine
You are motionless, as instructed,
but for a tremble of your chin and a flicker of your eyes
A lock clicks into place at your wrists
A strap is shifted one degree to the left
The set-up was effortless and the adjustments minor,
the accoutrements chosen seemingly on a whim
You wouldn’t know it, but the exact curve of your spine at this moment
was planned weeks ago
He cups your chin and brushes a stray hair behind your ear
You are complete
Each detail is exact, each angle aesthetic,
each nerve in you tingling and taut as intended
And now the minutiae are in place and his masterpiece is realised,
he will relish defiling it
He will spoil the calm perfection he has created,
he will soil his unblemished canvas
He will desecrate you
Oh, the devil is in the details, my dear, but salvation is found in your flaws…
♦ I should have taken the day off after Valentine’s Day just to write about the sex we had that evening. Sure, it’d have been a bit frivolous, but how else was I expected to write all that up and do it justice? Well, I didn’t and I haven’t and it’s now too hazy for a write-up, but fear not. You can have a hint, at least.
We hadn’t planned anything. We don’t really do Valentine’s. We were going to have Hot Sex though. When he nipped out of the room to get me a cup of tea beforehand, I dressed up in this. And then Hot Sex occurred. And it was good.
I ran my shiny red opera gloved-hands over his torso, relishing the contours of his body transmitted through the silk touch of the fabric. I stroked his cock in those gloves and the new sensation hit him like a tsunami. We 69ed, which is new for us (though not for me) and it was beyond amazing. He tongued and fingered my clit as I pressed my face into his erection and sucked him. We moaned in flashes of red and black and when the flurry of orgasms hit, all I could do was bite into his thigh and weather it. It was frantic and romantic and that now-cold cup of tea came handy to calm down with afterwards.
And then we nerded out on Pointless for the rest of the evening. ♦