Wednesday

This is just to say...

I'm not dead. The shop hasn't closed down (yet). I've just been actually working while at the store, and since both of My lovely macs are currently in residence at the shop...no notes for Brain Bleed for nearly two weeks! In that time I've been informed by TWO separate mental health facilities that, in essence, I'm just too fucked up for them to even attempt to counsel Me. First two times I have ever been entirely honest with a therapist and what happens...they tell me A-I have deep rooted problems requiring multiple sessions per week on a long term basis or facility B-I need to combine My talking therapy with medication with a singular psychiatrist who can "closely monitor" My progress.

Monday

Yes, I bought a vibrator off of a homeless man for a dollar

The shop buys, sells and trades new and used CDs, records, books, dvds and the like. So part of My job there is to look at the crap people bring by. Sometimes that means a chatty yuppie couple that are getting married and have decided it is time to dump off their duplicates, sometimes it is a relative of someone recently deceased trying to raise cash for funeral expenses by selling off the decedent's collection of Diana Ross 45's; but much more frequently it is the junkie pawning off the remnants of (hopefully) their own collection or the homeless men that troll the city's trash for treasure. The trash pickers find the most amazing stuff! I am a
bizarre bridge to these men who are completely on the edge of society. C has a reputation among them as cheap but fair and unlike many places they sell to, we always treat them respectfully. I think that goes a long way. I have nothing to gain by humiliating or being rude to a 50 year old homeless man. I will admit that the first time one greeted Me by name in another part of the city I was slightly weirded out. Talk about knowing people from all walks of life. Last night one of these guys who stops by at least twice a day brought out an assortment of junk/treasure along with the CDs he had found. Included were a sealed pack of minidisks (which I bought for C), a battery recharger, a pewter photo frame, a package of dry-erase markers and a Hard Throb “the Ultra Realistic Cock” Yes, I bought a vibrator off of a homeless man for a dollar. It was still in the box and if you check out the artwork, maybe you’ll understand why I thought it would be a good decoration for the shop. I planned to perhaps set it beside the Vickie and her Vibe, toy I bought a few weeks back. Well, I walked back into the shop with it and pulled it out of the box to tease (in a strictly nonsexual sense) the girl working at the door with it. As I pulled it from the box, I noticed the paperwork was still with it (who needs vibrator instructions anyway!) and as I was shoving it toward her I spied the first of several curly black hairs stuck to the shaft. It was used! And not even cleaned! UGH. As I mentioned it wasn’t as if I had even bought it for home, or even dungeon use, but I was still completely skeeved at the sight of origins unknown pubes.

Friday

Then he asked,"may i be your human toilet paper?"

Sorry I haven't been around so much lately, I am trying to be more responsible and productive at the shop. Also, I'm on a bit of a 12 step whirlwind and at a friend's suggestion have been attending SCA meetings. No, not the Society for Creative Anachronism, Sexual Compulsives Anonymous. I am as yet undecided as to whether I want or really need this fellowship. I meet 7 of the 14 "characteristics" of a sex addict (No, I'm not telling you which ones) and though I have found the meetings to be interesting and somewhat resonant, I have not formed a "plan" (A Sexual Recovery Plan is a predetermined way of expressing our sexuality consistent with our values, so that even when confused, we will have a written guideline to help us)or even committed myself to anything. I also feel relatively strongly that I am not interested in giving up working as a Pro-Domme or keeping this blog. I hope that does not become an issue.

I had a repeat call from a guy who is primarily looking for a full time live in DS situation. I have made clear that I am neither interested in or available for such an arrangement, which is perhaps why he continues to call. He is also into brown showers which I do not do but one of the stories he told Me when I asked about his experiences is way too entertaining not to share. A Mistress that indulged his fetish for shit on a regular basis often allowed him to watch Her poo on a toilet and while he mourned the passing of the turd into the sewers, She would reward him by taking the toilet paper that She had just wiped Her ass with and attatch it to his face just below his nose with tape. He told Me that sometimes it would be hours before She commanded him to remove it. When he requested again that I do an actual brown shower in session with him, I explained again that I do not do that, he then asked, "Well, would you allow me to be Your human toilet paper? After You shit I could lick Your asshole completely clean!" He was so excited by this prospect I couldn't help but laugh and lead him on. "Now slave, I hope you do realize what an incredible priviledge that would be. You would really really need to please Me for Me to even consider granting such an impudent request." Now truth be told, I enjoy a rimming just as much as the next girl, but that kind of direct sexual contact has no place in My work and certainly not following an unwiped poop.

One more aside as long as we are chatting about rim jobs...last week I went to my friend N's 30th birthday party and much later a small group of us ended up back at an apartment and we were drunkenly playing truth or dare. N asked the best truth question of one of the other guys I had ever heard, "Whose was the first asshole you licked?" I burst out laughing that he had already assumed that the guy even HAD licked another's ass. Turns out he hadn't.

Monday

Making Naughty Boys Cry...Again

So, I have this regular client that I do both phone and live sessions with. He is an intense masochist with a preference for whippy, stingy rattan canes. I would say he calls Me at least twice a week and after our regular chit chat catch up, we move into his scenario.

My voice becomes sweet, teasing, somewhat throatier and sometimes a bit singsongy.

"Tell Me, naughty boy, are you in need of punishment again?"

"Yes, Ma'am." he replies.

"I'm going to have to beat that naughty right out of you!"

"Is it going to really hurt?" his voice goes up in pitch practically to a whine.

"Yes, naughty boy, it will. The pain is going to be excruciating. And I will NOT stop until you are weeping and recanting your naughty naughty ways."

"Oh NO!" he exclaims. "Are you really gonna make me cry?"

"Most certainly naughty boy. In fact, once you begin crying, I'm going to laugh and hit you all the harder."

"Mistress, I'm scared. You are so cruel and so strict!"

"Yes naughty boy, I am."