I allowed a slave to come to my apt yesterday. I gave him a menial, mindless task that actually brought great satisfaction to me. He began dusting and cleaning my books. One by one he removed them from the shelf and wiped every side with a damp cloth.
I was wearing jeans and a black sweater, but my feet were bare. When he arrived, I allowed him to kiss my feet hello. He confessed that he had never considered himself a foot fetishist, but he found the curve of my toes outrageously sexy.
I used him as a foot rest while I smoked a cigarette. I was so aroused by the control I held over him. There was a moment where I knew that I owned him entirely. He would literally do anything I ordered.
Saturday
Your Wife Might Ask, "What does "OCIR OTRE" mean and why is it on your ass, honey?"
I neglected to mention the best souvenir I picked up in Puerto Rico because it was a gift I didn't want to spoil. Since it has now been given, I can tell you all about it! There are many gift stands en route to the rainforest, all basically selling the same few trinkets, but when we were headed out, after our hike (and my swim) we stopped for a bite at a literal shack. I browsed their meager selection and saw nothing of note until I found the basket of wooden machetes. Why they sell pieces of wood shaped like machetes emblazoned (is that even a word?) with the words "PUERTO RICO" in alternating red and green letters, I really do not know. However, I looked at these "machetes" and immediately thought of them as wooden paddles! I gave my right calf a few thwacks to test it out (yes, I received some odd glances for that move)and promptly purchased two. One for my personal collection and the other was my holiday gift to the Ladies of Rapture. I know it isn't going to hold up past a heavy masochist (hell, I watched Emanuelle split a one-inch-thick paddle over a client's ass) but it will make it through many light paddlings and I know I'll smile every time I use mine!
BTW, I really do love that the jitney has wireless. I feel so sci-fi cruising down the highway while on the web.
BTW, I really do love that the jitney has wireless. I feel so sci-fi cruising down the highway while on the web.
Friday
Back In the Cold
Over all I had a great time in Puerto Rico. My primary activities were reading on the beach and playing blackjack. I managed to make it to the gym a few times and took a hike through El Yunque (I was the only member of my tour to brave swimming the pools and waterfalls). I went out to dinner with random people I met along the way. A few days in, I booked a massage and scrub with the resort spa. When the therapist came to get me from the waiting room, I was immediately disappointed. She was older and slight. I like a strong massage and I couldn't imagine this tiny woman had it in her to work my muscles the way I like them done. Turns out she's been doing massage for thirty years and she was amazing. Possibly among the best I've ever had. Something odd happened during the massage though. Out of absolutely nowhere I started thinking about my father. It had been over a year since we last spoke and several years since I've seen him. I thought about how this vacation had the fingerprints of his taste all over it. Both of my parents, really. I thought about how my mom would take me on vacations like this and I decided to call him and depending on how the conversation went, invite him down to join me. The conversation went well enough. But he is just a shell of the man I knew growing up. I offered him a fully paid vacation including a gambling stake and he turned me down. He couldn't be bothered to travel.
I'm back in NYC just for a day, then it's off to the Hamptons tomorrow morning.
I'm back in NYC just for a day, then it's off to the Hamptons tomorrow morning.
Saturday
Most Memorable Moments
I'm enjoying Puerto Rico with the exception of one thing...they don't sell camel lights here! Perhaps you do not understand quite how devastating this is for me. I took a cab to 8 stores in search of them! I finally settled for Camel Turkish Gold which some salesperson tried to assure me was the PR equivalent, but they're different. I know it.
There was a maxfisch thread about most memorable moments in session, not best sessions, just those moments you'll never forget. For those of you who don't read maxville, here's what I had to say:
I don't know if I'd call these my "best dungeon moments" but I'll certainly never forget any of them.
1--While still a house Mistress, a client had been booked for me. He specifically requested that we forgo the consult as he did not want to encounter me out of role: Strict Uber Bitch Dominatrix. Along with the list of activities he enjoyed he also specifically requested that I not smile at any time. I remember that I paused outside the dungeon door, arranged my cleavage and my game face. With an angry glare I threw the door open. Naked, kneeling with his head to the floor in the center of the room was the youngest, hottest, most hard body client I had encountered at that time. A twinge of a smile started to cross my face and I stilled it. But then he looked up and in a booming Australian accent, he said "G'day Mistress!" I actually lost it and started laughing hysterically.
2--The first time I came in session. Somewhere after my lifestyle play during my early pro-domme days I'd been taught that session was not my "sex." So while I still enjoyed playing, I never thought of it as sexual for me. I was wearing a strap-on and literally fucking my client's face. I had him by his hair and I'll admit that he took my revenge for any time my head had ever been pushed or held down while giving a blow job. Caught up in the rush of power, I don't recall actually realizing that I'd found the correct angle to have the base of the harness rubbing my clit. But suddenly I was coming and I locked my thighs around his head with the dildo still deep in his throat and bucked all over that couch. When he left and I went back to the locker room I was all flushed and confused with my mind racing: Was that "ok?" Did I just break a dungeon rule?
3--Many years ago I had a regular with a cannibalism fantasy. Over the years I "prepared to eat him" various ways, but the moment I'll never forget was the terror in his eyes as I brandished a bloody handful of raw chopped meat, claimed it was the leftovers from the little boy I ate last week, bit off a chunk and threw the rest at him as he laid bound on the floor. It hit his torso with a wet thwack and rivulets of blood ran all over him. he kept looking at his chest and looking at me over and over again. God that was a great moment!
There was a maxfisch thread about most memorable moments in session, not best sessions, just those moments you'll never forget. For those of you who don't read maxville, here's what I had to say:
I don't know if I'd call these my "best dungeon moments" but I'll certainly never forget any of them.
1--While still a house Mistress, a client had been booked for me. He specifically requested that we forgo the consult as he did not want to encounter me out of role: Strict Uber Bitch Dominatrix. Along with the list of activities he enjoyed he also specifically requested that I not smile at any time. I remember that I paused outside the dungeon door, arranged my cleavage and my game face. With an angry glare I threw the door open. Naked, kneeling with his head to the floor in the center of the room was the youngest, hottest, most hard body client I had encountered at that time. A twinge of a smile started to cross my face and I stilled it. But then he looked up and in a booming Australian accent, he said "G'day Mistress!" I actually lost it and started laughing hysterically.
2--The first time I came in session. Somewhere after my lifestyle play during my early pro-domme days I'd been taught that session was not my "sex." So while I still enjoyed playing, I never thought of it as sexual for me. I was wearing a strap-on and literally fucking my client's face. I had him by his hair and I'll admit that he took my revenge for any time my head had ever been pushed or held down while giving a blow job. Caught up in the rush of power, I don't recall actually realizing that I'd found the correct angle to have the base of the harness rubbing my clit. But suddenly I was coming and I locked my thighs around his head with the dildo still deep in his throat and bucked all over that couch. When he left and I went back to the locker room I was all flushed and confused with my mind racing: Was that "ok?" Did I just break a dungeon rule?
3--Many years ago I had a regular with a cannibalism fantasy. Over the years I "prepared to eat him" various ways, but the moment I'll never forget was the terror in his eyes as I brandished a bloody handful of raw chopped meat, claimed it was the leftovers from the little boy I ate last week, bit off a chunk and threw the rest at him as he laid bound on the floor. It hit his torso with a wet thwack and rivulets of blood ran all over him. he kept looking at his chest and looking at me over and over again. God that was a great moment!
Friday
JFK
OK, so there's no MTA strike. Did this matter in any way whatsoever to me? No. Besides the fact that I'm a total cab-whore, I live on the LES and work in SoHo (and I'm headed out of the city for the next week). I barely ever use public transit anyway. I'm sitting in JFK waiting for my (currently 15 minutes delayed) flight to PR. JetBlue's free wireless rocks, particularly since I never got around to picking up a book to read on the flight. I've just tabbed out about two dozen pages of blogs and articles to read en route.
Watched Unleashed last night. I can't believe I missed this flick in the theaters. I'd heard good things about it, but popped the dvd in knowing absolutely nothing about the plot line. The fight scenes are terrific. There's a group fight that reminded me of the amazing hallway sequence in Oldboy.
Flight boarding...catch ya later. I just had a horrible, "what if I die on this flight" thought and...ugh, I'm totally not afraid of flying. But I'll check back in to let you all know I made it.
Watched Unleashed last night. I can't believe I missed this flick in the theaters. I'd heard good things about it, but popped the dvd in knowing absolutely nothing about the plot line. The fight scenes are terrific. There's a group fight that reminded me of the amazing hallway sequence in Oldboy.
Flight boarding...catch ya later. I just had a horrible, "what if I die on this flight" thought and...ugh, I'm totally not afraid of flying. But I'll check back in to let you all know I made it.
Wednesday
Casual Sex Rules
Now, if I'd only known they were counting on me! I actually had lunch at Balthazar this afternoon and though I would never have noticed, my fashion savvy companion pointed out that we were standing beside Anna Wintour and Diane Von Furstenberg. There was actually a vine/bush covered screen that was disassembled after they left the restaurant.
This morning a friend asked me what the etiquette is regarding a sick Fuck Buddy. Should she bring him soup? Absolutely not! That's his girlfriend's job. I realize this is a topic that I probably know far too much about that perhaps the world at large does not. NYC casual sex definitely has rules. Why don't people know them? What should I call this book of protocol? Keep it simple...perhaps "Friends With Benefits" But I've always hated that term. I'm not friends with my fuckbuddies! Obviously we get along, and I enjoy their company, but they are certainly not who I call when I'm in crisis. "Casual Sex Rules" I kinda like that one. Eh, titles can come later.
Here's a set of five casual sex etiquette rules:
1. The term "booty call" is from the 90's. It's nearly 2006, if you're drunk and horny at 2 am, the proper procedure is to send a text message. This is beneficial on several levels, a-if your fb is asleep (particularly beside their significant other) this is neither obtrusive or offensive, b-your friends beside you in the bar (or the person walking their dog as you stumble home from said bar) don't need to know how horny you are or what you'd like to do to your fb, text messaging is discreet!
2. Birthday and holiday gift exchanges. Again, NO! NO! NO! Kindly keep your fb relationship in perspective. The two of you strictly serve each other's carnal needs. Is there any gift that could top that? Fuck Buddies are NSA (no strings attached) soooooo if one of you buys a gift then the other is obligated to reciprocate. How uncomfortable! Why waste valuable foreplay time with unwrapping and niceties of that nature? The breath wasted on your insincere "I love it!" would be much better spent on your lover's earlobe or genitalia.
3. Spending the night. Definitely acceptable. Makes morning sex so much more convenient! Coffee? Morning smoke? Sure! Go ahead, but please don't expect to go for brunch. Now, a One Night Stand is different, breakfast could be a possibility. Who knows? This might be your next significant other. But if the boundaries have already been established and you are not in fact dating, why go through the charade that you are?
4. Ironically, this list has been interrupted by a rule number one. Ok getting back to business. Yes, you can tell your fb precisely how you would like to be done. Sure I understand you might not want to tell a potential life partner about your dirtiest and kinkiest fantasies, there's a fear of personal rejection in that situation. (But then again should you be spending the rest of your life with someone who isn't interested in what you really want?) I digress. Basically your fb is there to get you off, suitable partners for this type of endeavor will be (as you should be) open to instruction and correction. You should not be in bed with someone that you can not talk about sex with.
5. PART ONE: You may continue to date or engage in a serious relationship while employing the services of a Fuck Buddy. In fact, this is encouraged. (Before anyone gives me shit about the conflict of a FB engaging in a serious relationship, I ask you to recall the following things, a-I personally do not believe in monogamy and maintain a complete separation between the physical and the emotional, b-I am not responsible for anyone else's commitments, c-most people cheat) Depending upon the individual FB relationship, your dating or "real relationship" exploits may or may not be discussed. If permitted, however, it is poor etiquette to compare and contrast your partners.
5. PART TWO: It is NOT acceptable to engage a FB with a significant other that you know. This means your best friend's, sibling's, band-mate's and co-worker's boy or girl friend is off limits. One would think this is self evident. But for those of you who might make this grave tactical error, remember, a FB is a casual, strictly sexual based relationship. This situation will lead to emotional behavior resulting in uncomfortable social situations, accusations, basically all the stuff a FB is meant to avoid. Do not confuse being the FB of someone in a "real relationship" with "having an affair." Refrain from emotional investment in your FB at all costs, it will only hurt you. Mistaking lust for love in a FB situation is breaking the rules.
This morning a friend asked me what the etiquette is regarding a sick Fuck Buddy. Should she bring him soup? Absolutely not! That's his girlfriend's job. I realize this is a topic that I probably know far too much about that perhaps the world at large does not. NYC casual sex definitely has rules. Why don't people know them? What should I call this book of protocol? Keep it simple...perhaps "Friends With Benefits" But I've always hated that term. I'm not friends with my fuckbuddies! Obviously we get along, and I enjoy their company, but they are certainly not who I call when I'm in crisis. "Casual Sex Rules" I kinda like that one. Eh, titles can come later.
Here's a set of five casual sex etiquette rules:
1. The term "booty call" is from the 90's. It's nearly 2006, if you're drunk and horny at 2 am, the proper procedure is to send a text message. This is beneficial on several levels, a-if your fb is asleep (particularly beside their significant other) this is neither obtrusive or offensive, b-your friends beside you in the bar (or the person walking their dog as you stumble home from said bar) don't need to know how horny you are or what you'd like to do to your fb, text messaging is discreet!
2. Birthday and holiday gift exchanges. Again, NO! NO! NO! Kindly keep your fb relationship in perspective. The two of you strictly serve each other's carnal needs. Is there any gift that could top that? Fuck Buddies are NSA (no strings attached) soooooo if one of you buys a gift then the other is obligated to reciprocate. How uncomfortable! Why waste valuable foreplay time with unwrapping and niceties of that nature? The breath wasted on your insincere "I love it!" would be much better spent on your lover's earlobe or genitalia.
3. Spending the night. Definitely acceptable. Makes morning sex so much more convenient! Coffee? Morning smoke? Sure! Go ahead, but please don't expect to go for brunch. Now, a One Night Stand is different, breakfast could be a possibility. Who knows? This might be your next significant other. But if the boundaries have already been established and you are not in fact dating, why go through the charade that you are?
4. Ironically, this list has been interrupted by a rule number one. Ok getting back to business. Yes, you can tell your fb precisely how you would like to be done. Sure I understand you might not want to tell a potential life partner about your dirtiest and kinkiest fantasies, there's a fear of personal rejection in that situation. (But then again should you be spending the rest of your life with someone who isn't interested in what you really want?) I digress. Basically your fb is there to get you off, suitable partners for this type of endeavor will be (as you should be) open to instruction and correction. You should not be in bed with someone that you can not talk about sex with.
5. PART ONE: You may continue to date or engage in a serious relationship while employing the services of a Fuck Buddy. In fact, this is encouraged. (Before anyone gives me shit about the conflict of a FB engaging in a serious relationship, I ask you to recall the following things, a-I personally do not believe in monogamy and maintain a complete separation between the physical and the emotional, b-I am not responsible for anyone else's commitments, c-most people cheat) Depending upon the individual FB relationship, your dating or "real relationship" exploits may or may not be discussed. If permitted, however, it is poor etiquette to compare and contrast your partners.
5. PART TWO: It is NOT acceptable to engage a FB with a significant other that you know. This means your best friend's, sibling's, band-mate's and co-worker's boy or girl friend is off limits. One would think this is self evident. But for those of you who might make this grave tactical error, remember, a FB is a casual, strictly sexual based relationship. This situation will lead to emotional behavior resulting in uncomfortable social situations, accusations, basically all the stuff a FB is meant to avoid. Do not confuse being the FB of someone in a "real relationship" with "having an affair." Refrain from emotional investment in your FB at all costs, it will only hurt you. Mistaking lust for love in a FB situation is breaking the rules.
Mood: exceedingly accomplished!
I finally finished revamping my site! I'm particularly proud of the gallery section, I went to battle with the html gods and won. I think, so if you are in windows or some browser I didn't properly code it for, do let me know ASAP. While I'm thrilled to put so many photos up that have never been on the web, I wish they were all new shots. But since my face has remained essentially unchanged since I was 15, I'm not concerned that photos a few years old misrepresent how I look. Full disclosure: the blue latex dress shots are just a few months old, everything else is at least 5 years old. BUT....I do have several photo shoots scheduled after my return from San Juan, so the next update is not so far away.
While engaged in conversation with a new acquaintence, I was reminded of this post. I gave that attentive smile and nod while he went on about a current political topic that I knew absolutely nothing about. My smile was perhaps a touch more genuine as I thought about dashing into the bathroom to google the topic.
While engaged in conversation with a new acquaintence, I was reminded of this post. I gave that attentive smile and nod while he went on about a current political topic that I knew absolutely nothing about. My smile was perhaps a touch more genuine as I thought about dashing into the bathroom to google the topic.
Tuesday
gifts...
Last night, after the Arena Holiday party, I met up with one of my best friends, his gf and a few of her friends at yuppie bar. I ordered my new favorite pretentious cocktail, a dirty vodka martini. I wouldn't order it at most of the bars I hang out in, so I was disappointed that it was not quite as amazing as the last time I had had it (when I ended up having four or five of them). I had a good time: random conversation, engaged in a Ms. Pacman duel, but the evening ended with my receipt of another perfect hanamas (for those of you not in the know, that is hanukkah and christmas combined) gift. I've received several absolutely amazing gifts and the holidays are still weeks away! OK, as much as I love the stuff I've received from my wishlist I am somewhat amazed at how my friends have chosen items for me that have brought me instant and complete joy. I, on the other hand, have purchased only one gift thus far, for a seven year old. I love shopping, I love giving gifts, but I hate this whole time frame pressure thing. What if I don't find the right present before the last week of December? And what is up with all this early gift giving?
Friday
Flip Flop Sidewalk Toes
My Frame of Reference...
I responded to Ardenne's post on Max Fisch entitled I can't even *think* vanilla! with the exact moment that I realized my frame of reference had changed forever. Many years ago I was asked to write a press release for Arena about our Valentine's Day Couples' Rental Special. The idea had been to appeal to a novice or more vanilla crowd via mainstream media (scenesters already knew our playspaces were available for rentals). "No problem!" I thought. But after about five or ten minutes in front of the screen, I said, "um...I really can't remember what vanilla people think happens at a dungeon. Everything I want to write either contains terms they won't get or will sound way too threatening."
Then a few weeks ago, I met a guy that I thought I was interested in. I sent him the links to this blog and my site. I told him that he'd learn more about me than he might even want to know, but I'm really open about who I am and what I do. The questions from his vanilla point of view were suprising to me. At first there were the obvious ones, terminology, what's CBT? (guess he didn't know that I'm in the midst of reading Family Jewels, a guide to male genital play and torment) NT? But then came the q's that illustrated that he really did not understand the BDSM dynamic. Dildo worship & training? Fisting? Did he miss the fact that I am the dominant player? Did he momentarily think I was a peep show girl? Obviously, I cleared up his misconceptions.
Why are my sessions always so thematic? The other day I saw two trample & smother clients. One of the sessions was a double Mistress with Emanuelle. During our consult he told us that while he was a novice, he really enjoyed trampling, "go crazy," he said, "bounce if you want." I'm sure you know that we took that comment and ran with it! I laughed so much while we absolutely crushed him!
Then a few weeks ago, I met a guy that I thought I was interested in. I sent him the links to this blog and my site. I told him that he'd learn more about me than he might even want to know, but I'm really open about who I am and what I do. The questions from his vanilla point of view were suprising to me. At first there were the obvious ones, terminology, what's CBT? (guess he didn't know that I'm in the midst of reading Family Jewels, a guide to male genital play and torment) NT? But then came the q's that illustrated that he really did not understand the BDSM dynamic. Dildo worship & training? Fisting? Did he miss the fact that I am the dominant player? Did he momentarily think I was a peep show girl? Obviously, I cleared up his misconceptions.
Why are my sessions always so thematic? The other day I saw two trample & smother clients. One of the sessions was a double Mistress with Emanuelle. During our consult he told us that while he was a novice, he really enjoyed trampling, "go crazy," he said, "bounce if you want." I'm sure you know that we took that comment and ran with it! I laughed so much while we absolutely crushed him!
Wednesday
You Really Can Buy Anything on eBay
I don't know how I hadn't heard about this previously. It took nearly three weeks and an email from a friend in Chicago. Ace Bar is for sale on eBay. Absolutely insane. I spent a tremendous portion of my adolescence drinking at this spot. Before it was Ace, it was The Mission. Back when I was in highschool and when I'd come home during college, this was my bar of choice. Granted, since I've lived in the neighborhood over the last decade I haven't really frequented it all that much, but I did have my 25th birthday party there (yes it had a theme, I forced everyone to dress as their favorite 80's teen angst movie character). There are no bids listed as of yet, perhaps it is just a publicity stunt, I know it's worked for me, I'll definitely stop in for a drink before I leave for PR.
Sunday
This Week...
So the good news is that my knee is nearly healed, the great news is that I've finally figured out where I'm lounging on the beach for a week in late December! I'm headed to Puerto Rico. Absolutely alone and it is going to be phenomenal.
I spent time reworking my site this weekend. Why is it that every domme's website is black and red???? I'll let you all know when it is actually ready to be unveiled.
Something happened this week that leaves me utterly bewildered. I trusted someone that perhaps I shouldn't have. I am ashamed of my gullibility, angry at myself and yet saddened deeply by the whole experience.
I spent time reworking my site this weekend. Why is it that every domme's website is black and red???? I'll let you all know when it is actually ready to be unveiled.
Something happened this week that leaves me utterly bewildered. I trusted someone that perhaps I shouldn't have. I am ashamed of my gullibility, angry at myself and yet saddened deeply by the whole experience.
Friday
She's Got Legs, She Knows How To Use Them (even when one isn't quite up to par)
I saw two new foot and leg clients this week. Ironic that the demand for my legs is rising as my knee injury made wearing fetish heels a near impossibility (but thanks to my AMAZING chiropractor, I'm well en route to 100%). I forced the first to go through several hoops to see me as I mistakenly thought he was someone who had previously no-showed me. He was absolutely sincere in his devotion to my feet. I find it amusing how men who enjoy legs and feet are consistently awed by mine. He was quite sweet as he lay on the floor gazing up at me with unabashed adoration that continued even as I crushed his cock with my foot. This guy was young, hard bodied and huge-cocked. I only note his size because it was larger than my foot! The other new client was also endearing after a misunderstanding in a completely different way. He was an older gentleman and so clear in his desires during consult that I had no idea it was his first session ever. He requested physical overpowerment and muscle worship. Throughout the session he made several inappropriate requests, such as asking me to remove my panties and to kiss my lips(!?!?!). I punished him each time, but it wasn't until afterward that I realized he wasn't trying to push my limits, he just didn't know the boundaries of professional bdsm. I asked how he had found me and he told me he had clipped the phone number from a magazine years ago. Why now? I asked and he truly couldn't tell me. But he made the most flattering comment, how decades of fantasy couldn't begin to compare with actually sessioning with me.
edited to add: I just d/l the song referenced in the title and it is horrible! My recollection of it is sooooo much better than the reality
edited to add: I just d/l the song referenced in the title and it is horrible! My recollection of it is sooooo much better than the reality
Thursday
No, I don't read the NY Post
I understand how a client may become addicted to his domme, but did he really think charging her services to his company credit card would just go unnoticed????
Monday
Moronic bit of behavior with severe consequences, followed by PANTIES, PANTIES, PANTIES!
I had a great Thanksgiving weekend. Spent it out in the Hamptons with the family I work for. Saturday morning I took the kids on a two hour bike ride adventure. We found this cool futuristic junglegym and climbed all over it together. The middle child was a bit sugared up so in the interest of burning off some of his excess energy, I had him running the length of a huge field while I kept time by screaming the seconds as they passed. He made great time and I told him that maybe when he was older he would run track. "What's running track?" asks the adorable near seven-year-old. I explain that it is a sport in high school, mostly racing but there are other parts as well and that when I was I high school I ran track. Over the hill I spy the goalposts of a football field, "Hey, let's go check that out, most football fields have tracks around them, I can show you what I'm talking about." Not only is the field encircled by a perfect blacktop, sixlane track, there are hurdles set up! Did it occur to me that I haven't jumped hurdles is 15 years? No. Did it occur to me that I'd never jumped hurdles in cowboy boots? No. I actually cleared both of the hurdles I attempted. Nice. However, I landed poorly on the second and seem to have done something that my left knee finds unacceptable. I'm limping. It can bear weight, isn't swollen, but isn't willing to fully extend either. I'm resting and giving it a few days. Which leads me to hours of web surfing. And obsessive research on unimportant topics.
A few weeks ago, when Sade and I watched Audition, we discussed the whole Japanese panty vending vachines (ie: bura-sera) thing. She put forth how awesome it would be if we could set one up at Purple Passion or at Rapture (could I be a guest panty seller?). So today with nothing but time on my hands I did some investigating. What do panty vending machines look like? Exhibit A:
It's just a converted cigarette machine! We can so do this!!!! My research also led me to this clip. Which is probably a part of why my craigslist panty selling exploits were so successful. I hand-delivered them. I know I posted one note a received, but this is what a most eloquent gentlemen sent after his purchase:
A few weeks ago, when Sade and I watched Audition, we discussed the whole Japanese panty vending vachines (ie: bura-sera) thing. She put forth how awesome it would be if we could set one up at Purple Passion or at Rapture (could I be a guest panty seller?). So today with nothing but time on my hands I did some investigating. What do panty vending machines look like? Exhibit A:
It's just a converted cigarette machine! We can so do this!!!! My research also led me to this clip. Which is probably a part of why my craigslist panty selling exploits were so successful. I hand-delivered them. I know I posted one note a received, but this is what a most eloquent gentlemen sent after his purchase:
What can I say? Those panties were off the scale of deliciousness ( ... A, AA, AAA, supreme, extra fine) and into a realm where the olfactory becomes tactile. The humidity was unbearable. At home I stripped, showered, lay naked on my bed in the airconditioning, and proceeded to explore.
There was a subtle gradation of tone moving down from the front and intensifying in the very wet region of the cotton gusset, then a quite sudden and pronounced transition to the area moist with sweat from around your asshole, and where I discovered, to my delight, a single dark pubic hair trapped in the lace. Every part was glorious in its own way.
I then pulled the panties right over my face ("Abu Ghraib" style) with the central gusset area over my nostrils, closed my eyes, breathed deeply and rhythmically and quickly brought myself to two intense orgasms in ten minutes.
Thursday
Wasting Time part 9,835
I'm not usually a web video animation watcher and I'm absolutely not a mass forwarder, but in my web travels today I watched two clips (both with audio)that made me smile. For people who love their gmail accounts as much as I do. Clip A. And for those who've read come to my blog after reading my preface (For clients: only proceed if you can handle the fact that I am not always in a corset and six inch heels, for vanilla friends, that I sometimes am.) Clip B is courtesy of Domina M via maxfisch. And yes it is horrific form to take a cell call during session.
Monday
What's Been Going On.
It isn't so much that I haven't had time to write, or that nothing blogworthy has happened, I just haven't been in the mood. Perhaps one day I'll expand on these notes, or you can always ask me for the story in person, I'm told that I tell the tales of my life well.
--Seduced a seminary student. I thought he was attractive before I understood that he would eventually be a priest, but am I an unhinged pervert for wanting him so much more after I found out?
--Had an intense choking session. It has never been an area of particular interest to me, but it seems I'm a natural.
--One of my favorite clients decided that sessioning with me was tantamount to cheating on his wife and that he could no longer continue deceiving her. I talked him away from the edge of confessing to his wife his addiction to me, but lost him as a client. I've always encouraged him to tell her about his fetish, who knows maybe she'd indulge him. But I find it so sad that he will bottle up everything he has discovered with me.
--Upon receiving the coffeemaker/espresso machine I'd placed on my wishlist, I purchased coffee, milk, sugar, chocolate powder, even a bottle of water in case I didn't like the taste of my tap. My lack of domesticity was proven when I realized that I was still missing some key elements for the perfect mocha, namely mugs and spoons. Also once I'd improvised with pint glasses, one must have dishwashing liquid on hand to do it again.
--the art of dating continues to elude me. Received an email from I guy I crushed madly on several months ago to find that meeting me inspired him to book an appointment with a pro-domme. Um, hello? No, it wasn't with me.
--Immigrant women have now scrubbed my floors twice and I do not care how bourgie it makes me, I love having a cleaning lady.
--After watching the entire first season of Carnivale in two sittings, I realize that the only shows to come on TV that have interested me at all in the last decade have been on HBO or Showtime. Too bad I still haven't hooked up cable. But then it is probably a good thing, as I might never leave my apt again.
--Placing all of my books onto my bookshelves gave me a pleasure that I think can only be described as perverse
--The thousand dollar black leather couch that I scored off of craigslist for two hundred bucks also gives me joy that is probably unhealthy.
--Visiting the chiropractor daily for a week after inexplicably blowing out my lower back, the tech comments, "I can't turn the [electro-stim] machine any higher, you've maxed it out." When the doctor has his elbow dug deep into my lower back, "You really have an incredibly high tolerance for pain." Did I miss my calling? Should I have become a pro-masochist instead? Don't even entertain the thought. I have yet to meet the man I would submit to.
--I adore sharing films that I love with people. I showed a hopeless romantic Say Anything and Audition to another sadist. I don't think that the sheer artistry of the torture in that film can be appreciated by someone who has never been in that headspace. What a precise sliver of my psyche is now up for grabs.
--Attended two seminars given by Flagg. As prepared as I was to dislike him (for no rational reason), I was pleasantly surprised. Knowledgeable man.
--visited a friend in the psych ward after a botched suicide attempt. I arrived with Boo Boo Kisses for her wrists. Thankfully she laughed.
--Seduced a seminary student. I thought he was attractive before I understood that he would eventually be a priest, but am I an unhinged pervert for wanting him so much more after I found out?
--Had an intense choking session. It has never been an area of particular interest to me, but it seems I'm a natural.
--One of my favorite clients decided that sessioning with me was tantamount to cheating on his wife and that he could no longer continue deceiving her. I talked him away from the edge of confessing to his wife his addiction to me, but lost him as a client. I've always encouraged him to tell her about his fetish, who knows maybe she'd indulge him. But I find it so sad that he will bottle up everything he has discovered with me.
--Upon receiving the coffeemaker/espresso machine I'd placed on my wishlist, I purchased coffee, milk, sugar, chocolate powder, even a bottle of water in case I didn't like the taste of my tap. My lack of domesticity was proven when I realized that I was still missing some key elements for the perfect mocha, namely mugs and spoons. Also once I'd improvised with pint glasses, one must have dishwashing liquid on hand to do it again.
--the art of dating continues to elude me. Received an email from I guy I crushed madly on several months ago to find that meeting me inspired him to book an appointment with a pro-domme. Um, hello? No, it wasn't with me.
--Immigrant women have now scrubbed my floors twice and I do not care how bourgie it makes me, I love having a cleaning lady.
--After watching the entire first season of Carnivale in two sittings, I realize that the only shows to come on TV that have interested me at all in the last decade have been on HBO or Showtime. Too bad I still haven't hooked up cable. But then it is probably a good thing, as I might never leave my apt again.
--Placing all of my books onto my bookshelves gave me a pleasure that I think can only be described as perverse
--The thousand dollar black leather couch that I scored off of craigslist for two hundred bucks also gives me joy that is probably unhealthy.
--Visiting the chiropractor daily for a week after inexplicably blowing out my lower back, the tech comments, "I can't turn the [electro-stim] machine any higher, you've maxed it out." When the doctor has his elbow dug deep into my lower back, "You really have an incredibly high tolerance for pain." Did I miss my calling? Should I have become a pro-masochist instead? Don't even entertain the thought. I have yet to meet the man I would submit to.
--I adore sharing films that I love with people. I showed a hopeless romantic Say Anything and Audition to another sadist. I don't think that the sheer artistry of the torture in that film can be appreciated by someone who has never been in that headspace. What a precise sliver of my psyche is now up for grabs.
--Attended two seminars given by Flagg. As prepared as I was to dislike him (for no rational reason), I was pleasantly surprised. Knowledgeable man.
--visited a friend in the psych ward after a botched suicide attempt. I arrived with Boo Boo Kisses for her wrists. Thankfully she laughed.
Brain Bleed is Three years Old Today!
Clearing Craig's stuff out of my life the same week that I cleared out my mother's home has had a significant effect. Any vague packratting or hoarding tendencies that I may have had are entirely gone. I am the Mistress of the Purge. Since removing his stuff from my home, I have already filled 8 garbage bags with stuff that I no longer want or need. I am no longer sentimental in reference to things. I want people in my life that I care about, not scraps of paper that represent them. Ok, I'm not a complete minimalist...yet. My bookshelves are still utterly overcrowded and I'm fine with that. I also kept the toy raygun that lights up and makes noise that Snee gave me for a night of debauchery. But that might not make it through the next round. Having never purchased a mattress in my life, I had no idea how expensive beds are! The ones I like are upwards of $1500! I know, I know, The Mistress cleaning her closets and doing domestic shopping isn't all that sexy. Let's see, what has happened that could be considered sexy in the last 24 hours...not much unfortunately. I posted the following image all over myspace:
Sunday
Kicking Balls and Kicking his Stuff OUT!
The last two weeks have been overwhelmingly busy. I've done soooo many incredibly fun sessions! There was the return of JimmyBob complete with some very thoughtful props and inspired by my play earlier in the day: BALL KICKING!!! I had been a touch nervous about the appointment I had booked for that morning. My client was clear in his introductory email as well as subsequent appointment phone call that he was a ball busting fetishist. While I have done some over the years, I don't recall ever having been asked for a full hour of slamming my feet into anyone's scrotum. Me being me, I researched it. I read over reviews on Max Fisch, did some general web searching and called a few other Mistresses for tips. I was, of course, an absolute natural! Have you forgotten that I've been kickboxing for nearly a year? My favorite kick was basically a modified front kick, knee up and instead of striking with the ball of my foot, I'd slap with my instep. SO MUCH FUN!!!! I also really enjoyed sitting on the table and basically speed bagging his balls with alternating feet.
I'm normally available most of the time. I'm so lucky that my day job hours are utterly flexible. But I had to turn down three sessions yesterday. I spent the day moving my ex's belongings into storage. My apartment is mine again! This was not a box of photos and a few sweaters situation. I filled a 14 ft truck to move it all to a 10x15 storage space. My apt is practically empty! I feel like I just moved in. I'll be using a combination of professionals and cleaning slaves to get it inhabitable again. While I don't subscribe to the "Mistress as Divine Being" mindset, I assure you that you will never see me scrubbing the floor. Cleaning just isn't one of my skill sets. We had a cleaning lady during my formative years. I wonder if my mother even knew how to clean?
Also on the menu is renovation. Anyone know how to install pergo floors?
I'm normally available most of the time. I'm so lucky that my day job hours are utterly flexible. But I had to turn down three sessions yesterday. I spent the day moving my ex's belongings into storage. My apartment is mine again! This was not a box of photos and a few sweaters situation. I filled a 14 ft truck to move it all to a 10x15 storage space. My apt is practically empty! I feel like I just moved in. I'll be using a combination of professionals and cleaning slaves to get it inhabitable again. While I don't subscribe to the "Mistress as Divine Being" mindset, I assure you that you will never see me scrubbing the floor. Cleaning just isn't one of my skill sets. We had a cleaning lady during my formative years. I wonder if my mother even knew how to clean?
Also on the menu is renovation. Anyone know how to install pergo floors?
Thursday
a draft post from last week that I never finished....
I played quite a bit this week. I had two really intense and special sessions that I'll go into further detail on when I have more time. Last night I attended two showings at cinekink "the really alternative film festival." The Writer of O and Xaviera Hollander. Both are documentaries on women who wrote books of a sexual nature that both caused tremendous scandal at their release and altered public thought on marginalized sexuality. I thoroughly enjoyed both (though I could have lived without the dramatic recreations from The Story of O). Tonight I had dinner at wd-50 and experienced the most amazing dessert I have ever encountered. While I do not consider myself a "foodie" this may have been a life changing experience.
Friday
No one walks in LA, but anyone can shoot a handgun
I leave Los Angeles tonight. I had an absolutely amazing time. The service here is phenomenal! People consistently went way out of their way to assist me. I had two of the best dates I've had in six months. Reconnected with an old friend whose love of LA & Santa Monica was infectious. Perhaps I didn't promote my visit heavily enough, but I barely saw any clients; so fear not NYC, I'm not leaving yet. I caught the new Neil Gaiman & Dave McKean flick, Mirrormask. As to be expected, it was beautiful and enjoyable. But the absolute highlight of my trip was shooting pistols last night at the LA Gun Club! Though I've shot rifles in NYC, the laws are much stricter and you can not just stroll into a shooting range and say, "hey pass me that beretta." Out here, you can!!! Just not alone. Some kind of suicide prevention thing. So I hit LA's craigslist with the following ad:
I received about twenty-five responses by the time I returned from the movie. Some were downright scary. The guy built like a linebacker in a black suit, black shades and "enforcer" written all over him, sent a one line reply, "I love guns." The teenaged gangbanger complete with bandana tied around his head, said, "Yo! bitches wit guns are hot!!!!"
The guy I actually went out with really fit no stereotype. Intensely intelligent, hardcore geek cred, MacGyver claimed skills that I didn't have the opportunity to test, an absolutely sincere smile and enough in common with me to talk until six am.
We shot off about a hundred rounds each, using a Beretta 92FS and a Kimber Eclipse Custom II. I was so excited when we arrived that I actually jumped up and down like a little girl. However, as the guy behind the counter talked to us about which guns to choose, I was suddenly sobered by how absolutely dangerous guns are. So it was with a healthy respect for the weapons we were about to use that I put on the eye and ear protection they provided. But by the time we were actually in the lane, I was totally psyched and excited again. It was SOOOOO much fun.
So...I'm off for my last LA shopping trip (the amount of money I've spent this week is obscene).
Want to go shoot guns and/or see the Weegee exhibit at the Getty?
And you thought that was just a catchy title. Nope, I'm serious. I live in NY and am just here on vacation for one more day. NYC gun laws seem to be MUCH stricter. I've never shot a handgun and have always wanted to. I called a gun club here in LA, but people aren't allowed to go alone. Wanna go shoot guns?
I also am interested in checking out the Weegee exhibit at the Getty.
I don't think there is much opportunity for conversation at shooting ranges, but the following outlines a bit about me and whom I typically seek.
I would like to meet someone interesting, intelligent and articulate. I am, of course, all of the above. I like violent asian films (think Takashi Miike), am relatively apolitical, have a twisted sense of humor, am an unrepentant smoker, believe deeply in the merits of caffeine, am dangerously impulsive, find spelling/grammatical errors on shop signs both irksome and occasionally amusing. Oh yeah, the shallow stuff. I'm pretty, sexy, tall with dark red hair, hazel eyes, long muscular legs and a voluptuous figure.
I like smart men without pretension. Please have a solid grasp of the English language, lived adventurously enough to have a few tales to tell and know how to laugh. Tall wiry guys typically turn my head but a fully functioning brain and a twisted sense of humor are required to hold my interest. Kindly reply with your photo and something about you that might pique my interest.
So...are you ready? I'm headed out to see a flick now, will check my email around 6:30/7, the range is open until 11!
I received about twenty-five responses by the time I returned from the movie. Some were downright scary. The guy built like a linebacker in a black suit, black shades and "enforcer" written all over him, sent a one line reply, "I love guns." The teenaged gangbanger complete with bandana tied around his head, said, "Yo! bitches wit guns are hot!!!!"
The guy I actually went out with really fit no stereotype. Intensely intelligent, hardcore geek cred, MacGyver claimed skills that I didn't have the opportunity to test, an absolutely sincere smile and enough in common with me to talk until six am.
We shot off about a hundred rounds each, using a Beretta 92FS and a Kimber Eclipse Custom II. I was so excited when we arrived that I actually jumped up and down like a little girl. However, as the guy behind the counter talked to us about which guns to choose, I was suddenly sobered by how absolutely dangerous guns are. So it was with a healthy respect for the weapons we were about to use that I put on the eye and ear protection they provided. But by the time we were actually in the lane, I was totally psyched and excited again. It was SOOOOO much fun.
So...I'm off for my last LA shopping trip (the amount of money I've spent this week is obscene).
Tuesday
Still alive and kicking, now in LA!
So...I'm in Los Angeles. I've had the greatest time from the moment I arrived. Spent the weekend in Beverly Hills at The Four Seasons for a family wedding and am now partying like a rockstar in West Hollywood. Had my first famous client, don't bother asking, I WILL NEVER TELL.
Thursday
This week in fetish
Sunday night I unintentionally ended up at Byte. I live on the same block. Month after month I'm headed home and suddenly there's fetish on my block. I always find it slightly disconcerting. It is also amusing how some people don't even recognize me out of gear. But this time, I was locked out of my apt and after hanging around outside for awhile waiting for someone to come in or out of my building, I finally just went in for a drink. Many of the usual suspects were there. I chatted briefly with Harlequinn, Domina M and Cyber. I spent more time with Ardenne. She was carrying the most magnificent crop. I finally met Troy Orleans, she actually recognized me while I was having a smoke and introduced herself. In some ways it is bizarre to be at a fetish event in a t-shirt, denim skirt & cowboy boots. On the other hand, I'm a domme regardless of what I'm wearing.
On Monday I sessioned with the victim I'll be using for tomorrow's demo at Rapture. He was great fun to play with, but we actually got along so well and were chatting so much that I had to tell him to shut up because our conversation was distracting me from our play.
Tonight I dropped a hundred bucks in less than ten minutes buying stockings over at The Sock Man. I got old fashioned cuban heels, fishnets, thigh highs and traditional black stockings galore. As I don't have any stocking fetishists booked for this week, it was a kinda frivolous purchase, but honestly I just couldn't resist.
On Monday I sessioned with the victim I'll be using for tomorrow's demo at Rapture. He was great fun to play with, but we actually got along so well and were chatting so much that I had to tell him to shut up because our conversation was distracting me from our play.
Tonight I dropped a hundred bucks in less than ten minutes buying stockings over at The Sock Man. I got old fashioned cuban heels, fishnets, thigh highs and traditional black stockings galore. As I don't have any stocking fetishists booked for this week, it was a kinda frivolous purchase, but honestly I just couldn't resist.
Friday
Teslamania
So...thanks for the responses regarding my demo, I think I've settled on a victim. I just came across this and think I may need to attend. Afterall, the violet wand is a tesla coil. Who is this woman claiming to be NYC's tesla queen? That's ME damn it!!!
The LAST TESLAMANIA EVER!!!!!! “Bitchin” “Totally radical, braugh” “Heavy stuff, man” “This is the ultimate” "Gecko tends to perform loads of weird science, typically with one or both of the Tesla coils in house with cybertronic themes, breaking down the barriers between, science, sex and nature." audience responses
The mistress of the Tesla Coil and co-director of Collective:Unconscious, Gecko Saccomanno, is moving away, so this will be her very last show ever. For 5 years she has been WOWing you with all things Tesla in the longest running tribute to the forgotten genius and inventor Nikola Tesla....TESLAMANIA!!!
See the largest Tesla Coil on Manhattan-Electric bolts with a 6 foot span. Watch electric bolts shoot from lobster claws + out of flowers, as neon tubes glow from across the room!! Smell the fresh scent of ozone!!!
Come join her, plus Tesla master Jamie Mereness + the Most Special of Special
guests the Galorious Missy Galore for one last BLAST!!!!!!
Friday September 16th 7.30 pm
Collective Unconscious
279 Church
http://www.weird.org
http://www.chickscook.org
reservations 212 254 5277
Free Heavy Medical Training Session..you want it?
I saw the opening midnight showing of Corpse Bride and without admitting to resurrecting my adolescent gothiness, I adored it!!! But moving onto something a touch more hardcore. I will be hosting a medical training session involving sounds, catheters, piercings and an enema. Unfortunately I do not yet have a test subject (victim?). I am well experienced in the forementioned procedures, thus I will be showing several newer dommes my techniques as well as allowing them to try them under my supervision. Is invasive heavy medical and exhibition your thing? Email me immediately and an incredible multi-domme session is yours at no charge.
Wednesday
Oysters and Electric Blue Latex on the roof
The funk of my last post only lasted a day, sorry to have left the blogosphere under the impression that I was still stuck in an introspective slump. Actually life has been quite grand. One of the ways that might best be illustrated is that I've had oysters four times in the last seven days. I highly recommend all of the following restaurants: Blue Ribbon, Jack's Luxury Oyster Bar, Marlow & Sons and Balthazar.
I did a photoshoot on the Arena roof with Ingela. Not only is she incredibly hot, as evidenced below, she's just as good on the other side of the lens. Most amusing though is that at the moment this shot was taken, in her breathy, ever-so sexy Swedish-accented voice, she is saying to me, "Close your eyes. Open your mouth. You are in ecstasy! Show me ecstasy!"
ps...The Trainer receives full credit for the state of my legs in this photo, see going to the gym pays off!
I've finally done a bit of updating to my professional site AND I'll be guest Mistressing at The Den of Iniquity in Los Angeles October 10th-13th. Aren't you excited? I am!!!
I did a photoshoot on the Arena roof with Ingela. Not only is she incredibly hot, as evidenced below, she's just as good on the other side of the lens. Most amusing though is that at the moment this shot was taken, in her breathy, ever-so sexy Swedish-accented voice, she is saying to me, "Close your eyes. Open your mouth. You are in ecstasy! Show me ecstasy!"
ps...The Trainer receives full credit for the state of my legs in this photo, see going to the gym pays off!I've finally done a bit of updating to my professional site AND I'll be guest Mistressing at The Den of Iniquity in Los Angeles October 10th-13th. Aren't you excited? I am!!!
Saturday
nothing sexy just a bit of self head shrinking, feel free to check back in a day or two for something more interesting.
I've had several sessions recently that probably warrant posts, but I'm just not in a sexy story mood tonight. I fear I might be getting depressed again. It could just be a premenstrual thing or a caffeine & sugar high & low thing, but in the last two days my moods have swung so high and then relatively low. It is nowhere near debilitating (because I've been there and remember how that felt). It is just sad and somewhat empty. It may also be in reaction to the fact that I've recently done some very adult /take care of myself things and lest I allow myself to actually move forward, a few self-sabotaging moves are now in order, of course. But overthinker that I am, I'm aware of all of the above. Which leaves me on the deck of the beach house, friday night, one am, labor day weekend chainsmoking and trying to sort it all out.
In about two weeks it will be a full year since I left Craig. About a month ago, it was four years since my mother died. I still haven't gotten her gravestone erected. Obvious psychological block compounded by guilt. I turned 30 about four months ago. There are so many dumb little things that we make our personal landmarks in time. Lola (my french bulldog godchild) may be pregnant and one of the puppies may be marked for me. So in about two months I may have a french bulldog puppy. As if I were ready for that kind of responsibility!
In about two weeks it will be a full year since I left Craig. About a month ago, it was four years since my mother died. I still haven't gotten her gravestone erected. Obvious psychological block compounded by guilt. I turned 30 about four months ago. There are so many dumb little things that we make our personal landmarks in time. Lola (my french bulldog godchild) may be pregnant and one of the puppies may be marked for me. So in about two months I may have a french bulldog puppy. As if I were ready for that kind of responsibility!
Tuesday
More Summery Thoughts: Peeing in the Pool
I was obsessively checking my logs this morning (yes I know from whence you've surfed or searched to me) and found this chick. I so looooove her latest entry, entitled: Do You Pee In The Pool?
Have you wanted to, but never did because you were told that there's a blue, purple, or red dye that will colour the water if you do? I don't know if you've heard it, but I was told that line as a kid. I always believed it, too.She maintains that she never put it to the test. I, however was not the same type of child. I was about 5 or 6 and my mother and Aunt June were playing cards (most likely canasta or may I, why don't I have weekly card games?) in her glassed in back deck. So they had a basic view of me, but had I started drowning, it would have taken some time to get to me. Before I got in the pool, Aunt June told me that peeing was not permitted in her pool. She said I better not, because if I did, a big black circle would form in the water right around me and she would know. I solemnly nodded my head and then bounced off into the backyard to get in the pool. Approximately twenty minutes later I burst into the room where they were playing cards and shrieked, "You lied Aunt June! You lied! There wasn't any black ring!" Luckily, rather than being angry at me, they laughed and asked why I had peed in the pool and I readily admitted that I wanted to see the black ring. THAT was the type of child I was.I probably wouldn't have done it myself, but I used to look around in the pool as a kid passed by to see if a coloured streak followed the kid while swimming. That way, I'd know if they peed in the pool, and I'd know to avoid that area while swimming.
Monday
Summer...
Those of you who actually know me (or have been trying to book an appointment with me), know that I've spent the bulk of this summer in the Hamptons. No, I'm not out here to party, I'm a nanny, remember? I've had an amazing summer! Do you realize I'm getting paid to build sandcastles and go swimming? My bosses have given me relatively free reign on a house on the beach with a heated pool. Ummm, yeah, it does rock. Sometimes the kids stay over with me, but most nights I'm alone. Which means skinny dipping, smoking and reading. There's no real appropriate segue here. I guess I was just thinking about summer and work after reading this article. I have yet to meet Troy Orleans, but I've consistently heard great things about her. I understand the heat being problematic, but where the hell is she renting space that the air conditioning isn't cranked to the max? I spent an hour and a half encased in leather on Friday for an interrogation/torture scene and um, well, I was fine. Whatever, maybe that's just me. Things were slow earlier in the summer, and maybe it is partially that I'm only in the city and available a few days a week, but business is booming lately. Or maybe it is this amazing snapshot of my legs:
Friday
When your landlord's lawyer is submissive, another only me anecdote
So many stories to tell. The first actually happened several months ago. I knew it was blogworthy but I never got around to it. Being the fiscally irresponsible adult (?!?!) that I am, I often end up in court with my landlord. We arrange a stipulation agreement and everything is fine in the end. Except when I miss stip payments and come home to find a marshall's notice of pending eviction. Oops. Back to court I go. This time a touch nervous, as I have really pushed things a bit farther than might be acceptable and the judge could actually elect to allow my landlord to throw me out. Such was the situation about two months ago. I arrived for court in a denim miniskirt (my summer uniform), a black v-necked shirt and cowboy boots. I meet with my landlord's lawyer in the hallway of the court building. He's cordial, friendly even. He begins filling out paperwork but is interrupted by some other lawyers for a round of gossip. In a teasing tone, certainly not as though I were barking an order, I told him to get back to work. It seems that triggered a response. Negotiations began. In no uncertain terms I spell out the terms that I want, knowing full well that my landlord will never agree, but hoping for a point to begin bargaining from. He agreed to everything I requested. Put it through the court without calling my landlord for approval!!! As we finished up, he asked what I did for a living. I was evasive, I said that I have a few different freelance jobs. He replied, "I'm submissive to my wife. Are you a Domme?" I was so shocked, I just told him the truth. He said, "I KNEW IT!" I asked how and he referred back to me telling him to get back to work. I suspect he may have recognized me or maybe his submissive sixth sense was just responding to me.
Saturday
Five Days Naked in the Desert
Yes, it is true. I went on another naturist vacation. This time it was to a resort in Palm Springs, CA called Desert Shadows. It was, as I expected, magnificent; I met some wonderful people and had a great relaxing time. With one exception. I had an accident while I was there. Before you all freak out, I will preface this story by saying that I have suffered no permanent damage or disfigurement, though I surely could have. Most of you know that I am a smoker. I am rather committed to my camel lights. So it is perfectly understandable that when I went to the pool that first day, I brought a towel, my smokes, a lighter and the book I was reading (Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson ). Having never been to Cali before, I had no concept of just how damn hot it gets there. I left my stuff on a table beside a lounge chair and got in the pool. Less than an hour later there was loud shotgunish sound and we discovered that my lighter had exploded from the heat. OK. no worries. Lesson learned, DO NOT leave a lighter exposed to direct sunlight when temperatures are above 100 degrees. You think this story's over, but it's ready to begin. I adopt the habit of covering my lighter with a towel or my book. Two days later, I pull a lighter from my purse and place a cigarette between my lips. As I flicked it on, it exploded in my face. There was a ball of fire directly in front of me. I stepped back, waved my hands back and forth and ran into my room to splash water on my face. I lost several curls, singed my eyebrows and lashes, but the real pain was inside my nose. The heat and fire had gone up my nostrils. No nose hair here! I iced it for an hour and then obtained some Ayr with Aloe gel which relieved the dryness and pain. It wasn't until a day or so later when scabs began to form along the edges of my nostrils and septum that I realized how badly I had been burned. Needless to say I used matches for the remainder of the trip. I repeat, I'm fine now. It was scary when it happened but I'm over it and I'm just grateful that the damage was minimal and that I recovered so quickly.
Obviously that had nothing to do with the fact that I was naked. But then other than the fact that I'm lacking tan lines, a naked vacation is the same as a clothed one. As my friend who organizes these trips is fond of saying, anything you can do clothed you can do naked. Nudity juxtaposed with atypical activity highlights included a celebrity homes bus tour (when someone emails it to me, I'll post a pic of myself and a friend in front of Elvis Presley's honeymoon home) and a naked dance/karaoke party. I had a great time at the party. I don't think I've ever danced nude before. And while I typically not only hate karaoke, but the people who actually do karaoke, I guess I was caught up in the spirit of things and was roped into participating in a group rendition of The B-52's Love Shack. No, I can't really believe I did it either.
Obviously that had nothing to do with the fact that I was naked. But then other than the fact that I'm lacking tan lines, a naked vacation is the same as a clothed one. As my friend who organizes these trips is fond of saying, anything you can do clothed you can do naked. Nudity juxtaposed with atypical activity highlights included a celebrity homes bus tour (when someone emails it to me, I'll post a pic of myself and a friend in front of Elvis Presley's honeymoon home) and a naked dance/karaoke party. I had a great time at the party. I don't think I've ever danced nude before. And while I typically not only hate karaoke, but the people who actually do karaoke, I guess I was caught up in the spirit of things and was roped into participating in a group rendition of The B-52's Love Shack. No, I can't really believe I did it either.
Thursday
Back from the desert, en route to the beach
Sleep deprived and caffeinated to the gills, I really shouldn't be awake right now. However, the gentleman beside me on the Jitney is wearing an outfit that deserves to be immortalized. Brown leather loafers, HOT PINK (or shall I say fuschia) socks, canary yellow slacks with a purple Ralph Lauren polo shirt, complete with a green embroidered polo player. Were he a 22 year-old hipster, I'd laugh at how hard he was trying. But this guy is in his 60's. Shouldn't he know better by now?
Read all about it, The New Nanny Diaries are Online
I was given this article (hard copy)by the woman whose children I take care of daily. She knows about this blog and has even left a comment now and again. To my knowledge, her husband has never read it. I repeat, to my knowledge. It is however something to think about. How often do bloggers lose their jobs because their employers could no longer handle the dissolution of boundaries?
Saturday
Entertainment
There's sooooo many things I want to write about but I haven't really had the time to organize my thoughts in front of a keyboard. I saw Murderball opening night and attended a q&a with the main character (are people in documentaries characters?) and directors. It is not a feel-good tearjerker about overcoming disabilities. At least the people profiled (except one with a childhood case of polio landing him in a wheelchair) were asshole adrenaline junkies before they broke their necks. This one got thrown off a deck while fighting, another thrown from a pickup when his best friend crashed driving home drunk. That said, I loved the way it was shot and really enjoyed it. Moving onto book recommendations, I am nearly done with the best novel I've read in years. Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. Go get it now.
Thursday
You thought NY was small? Craigslist gets creepy...
Typically when answering or posting a personal ad I do not include a link to this blog. I also don't use myspace for dating. Sure I'm on there, I'm a geek, remember? But I'm not "friends" with anyone that I don't know in real life. My profile is under my real name and includes a link to this blog because anyone who knows me, knows what I do. OK, preface officially out of the way. Tonight I'm browsing CL men seeking women and some guy has included a link to his myspace page. What I'm certain he forgot is that on his blog he put a little "hey I moved" note with his new address. I suppose that was for housewarming gifts? Since obviously any of his friends on myspace couldn't just send him an email, right? But imagine my surprise when I read the studio address. This guy is two floors below me as I type. How serendipitous! and bizarre! I answer his ad and make note of the above. Obviously I scared the shit out of him, because not only did he not answer my email, the formentioned blog entry no longer existed five minutes after I sent my note.
Also of note regarding my last rant about online dating, I obviously jinxed myself because I haven't gotten laid (via online dating)since I posted that.
Also of note regarding my last rant about online dating, I obviously jinxed myself because I haven't gotten laid (via online dating)since I posted that.
Tuesday
Dirty Panties For Sale! Get Yer Panty Fetish Filled Here!
I have a new business endeavor! I've been selling my dirty panties. I know selling used items is not a new thing for dommes. Someone I used to work with was selling vials of her piss via the internet 8 years ago (I just checked her current site to give the link but it seems she is no longer doing it). But this is different. These guys don't even know I'm a domme. I'm just a girl in Manhattan with damp panties who is willing to meet in a public place and hand them over for $50. It is shockingly easy, though there is some illicit thrill; at my first sale I laughed and said I felt like I was doing a drug deal or something. As far as I know this isn't illegal. My first customer has already requested a second pair! He was so sweet and while I think we were both awkward for a moment (we met up on the street in Rockfeller Center)the exchange went smoothly and less than five mintues after jumping out of a cab, I was walking down the street with two twenties and a ten in my pocket. The next day I received the following note:
Just wanted to let you know the panties are GREAT! When I got back into my office, I shut the door and sniffed your sweet juice for a few minutes and then rubbed it all over my cock. Then when I got home I put them on and wore them around the house for a while. We'll have to meet again soon...I've been so excited and amused about this project that I've told practically everyone I know. My friend's responses vary. A totally vanilla female friend was incredibly skeeved. "He has your DNA!" she shrieked. I highly doubt that cloning is on his to do list. My male friends are particularly intrigued with the potential for profit. Much more than my female friends, they've asked how many inquiries I've received, how much the panties cost, how long I need to wear them, can I sell more than one pair a day?
Friday
Ever just have a great day? Or running around Brooklyn half naked
Sometimes you just have a great day. I spent the night at a friend's place on the UWS. It was such a nice apt to wake up in. Headed downtown to the gym, did some crazy olympic powerlifting and ran over to Arena for a session. What is the big deal about "sensual sessions"? The house and general rules on professional BDSM are pretty clear. There is no sexual contact. But then there are sensual sessions. Today's was a roleplay about "my neighbor" whom I had caught spying on me and my roommates sunbathing nude on the roof. It was a fun, flirty roleplay mixed in with some spanking and overpowering. Totally up my alley. Explain to me why a domme would have no issue doing a barehanded spanking, but cringe at the idea of running her hand gently along a client's facial cheek? I love coming in close to whisper in my client's ear. For this guy, a sense of affection along with his punishment was really important. He was able to express it during our consult and I really appreciate that.
I then ran off to Brooklyn Heights to participate in this photography project: Uncovered: Celebrating Women in NYC shot by Jordan Matter. I honestly had a blast. The photographer is handling the shoots in two ways, either locations he has been eyeing or something personal to the subject. He was very excited about the fact that I'm a domme and asked if I would be comfortable somehow incorporating that into the shoot. Thus I ended up strolling down a residential block in thigh high leather boots, a jean skirt, corset (with my breasts strategically uncovered), with a patent leather cat o'nine dangling from my wrist.
Ironically the shot that actually aroused attention from the cops and ultimately ended our shoot was me in flip flops, bare legs, jean skirt, a pony tail and glasses reading the NY Times outside of the Brooklyn supreme court. An extremely interesting note is that the cops never spoke a word to me or even approached me. They went straight for the photographer. But wasn't it my bare breasts causing the disturbance?
Then it was back into the city for more Asian Film Fest. Tonight's viewings are One Night in Mongkok and Arahan. I won a dvd! There are drawings for prizes at the start of each flick and I could believe the other night Craig AND his gf both won stuff. That was of course a few days after he ended up unintentionally sitting next to me. I will not allow his presence to ruin this terrific film fest for me!
I then ran off to Brooklyn Heights to participate in this photography project: Uncovered: Celebrating Women in NYC shot by Jordan Matter. I honestly had a blast. The photographer is handling the shoots in two ways, either locations he has been eyeing or something personal to the subject. He was very excited about the fact that I'm a domme and asked if I would be comfortable somehow incorporating that into the shoot. Thus I ended up strolling down a residential block in thigh high leather boots, a jean skirt, corset (with my breasts strategically uncovered), with a patent leather cat o'nine dangling from my wrist.
Ironically the shot that actually aroused attention from the cops and ultimately ended our shoot was me in flip flops, bare legs, jean skirt, a pony tail and glasses reading the NY Times outside of the Brooklyn supreme court. An extremely interesting note is that the cops never spoke a word to me or even approached me. They went straight for the photographer. But wasn't it my bare breasts causing the disturbance?
Then it was back into the city for more Asian Film Fest. Tonight's viewings are One Night in Mongkok and Arahan. I won a dvd! There are drawings for prizes at the start of each flick and I could believe the other night Craig AND his gf both won stuff. That was of course a few days after he ended up unintentionally sitting next to me. I will not allow his presence to ruin this terrific film fest for me!
Monday
I swear I'm not dead, just at the movies
I've been getting those emails and phone calls asking if I'm dead in a ditch again. Obviously not. Unfortunately blogger is dead set against me and sent my last post off into oblivion somewhere. Maybe someone else's blog got my post. Who knows? I was too frustrated to rewrite it. All the interesting parts of my life are not currently up for public consumption...sorry. Except my attendance of the Asian Film Fest. Thus far I've seen:
Survive Style 5+
Karaoke Terror
Gagamboy
I still have plans for at least:
Arahan
Crying Fist
Kamikaze Girls
Marebito
One Night in Mongkok
P
R-Point
Samaritan Girl
Eleven flicks in less than two weeks might seem like a lot to the uninitiated, but that's only a third of the offerings and I'm certain I'll end up at more than what I've listed here.
Survive Style 5+
Karaoke Terror
Gagamboy
I still have plans for at least:
Arahan
Crying Fist
Kamikaze Girls
Marebito
One Night in Mongkok
P
R-Point
Samaritan Girl
Eleven flicks in less than two weeks might seem like a lot to the uninitiated, but that's only a third of the offerings and I'm certain I'll end up at more than what I've listed here.
Wednesday
more I heart muay thai & rant #683 regarding online dating
I know I've mentioned this before, but I FUCKING LOVE kickboxing! Now that I'm starting to have a clue and some confidence it is so much fun. I get frustrated with my body when I intellectually understand what I need to do but cannot do so correctly. Of course the inverse of that is when I overthink a move rather than just relaxing and allowing my body to just do it. But sometimes (and more often lately) my glove or shin hits the pad correctly and makes the most satisfying thwack. I know when I'm correct because it just feels and sounds right.
Sunday afternoon a male friend and I spent hours discussing our online dating exploits. My constant whine (I know you've all heard this before) is that getting laid is not a problem. I'm female, call it the power of the pussy if you must, but I can get laid in a heartbeat; finding someone whose company I really enjoy remains a formidable task. Is it just an NYC thing, a 2005 thing or an online thing that when either of us actually goes on these dates sex is practically inevitable. Maybe it is the screening process, by the time you agree to go out with someone from online, you already know a bit about them and find them attractive enough to meet up with. Or maybe we are both just total sluts.
Sunday afternoon a male friend and I spent hours discussing our online dating exploits. My constant whine (I know you've all heard this before) is that getting laid is not a problem. I'm female, call it the power of the pussy if you must, but I can get laid in a heartbeat; finding someone whose company I really enjoy remains a formidable task. Is it just an NYC thing, a 2005 thing or an online thing that when either of us actually goes on these dates sex is practically inevitable. Maybe it is the screening process, by the time you agree to go out with someone from online, you already know a bit about them and find them attractive enough to meet up with. Or maybe we are both just total sluts.
Monday
yeah, I'm back from the ether
Don't ya just hate it when you find a blogger whose writing you actually enjoy and they just disappear into thin air? Sorry I've been absent. Now that the fetish marathon is over, I think I'll be returning to my regularly scheduled life.
In the midst of the madness that was prepping for the Ball, I did actually find time to do some random fun things, including attending a night of music created with gameboys from these people. I also went to the movies quite a bit, the best things I saw were Mad Hot Ballroom & Layer Cake. I discovered a bar with a rooftop garden literally a stone's throw from my apt but the thing that excites me the most is the upcoming New York Asian Film Festival. Pity the three friends with me when I finally picked up a hard copy of the schedule and movie descriptions on Sunday afternoon. I spent the next hour reading aloud nearly every synopsis and encouraging them to choose which ones they might like.
I'm so lucky my friends adore me. Finding people to attend close to 30 films with me within a span of less than two weeks is not an easy endeavor. Sure the ex will be at most of the flicks I've chosen, but we will not be sitting together this year and while I can handle watching a flick alone, I hate not having anyone to discuss it with afterward. My hunt for a boy who likes the same kind of movies I do, can engage in a decent intelligent conversation and is hot enough to make me swoon continues. Wait, I found that guy, he just isn't interested in me "like that." So allow me to revise my manhunt wishlist by adding killer kisser, cuddle champion, a lack of relationship fear, oh and of course, an unwavering attraction to me.
I apologize to the fetishists seeking a blow by blow of the events I attended this week. Honestly, I was so exhausted and working so hard, it is really all a blur of lacing up my boots and tightening my corsets over and over again.
In the midst of the madness that was prepping for the Ball, I did actually find time to do some random fun things, including attending a night of music created with gameboys from these people. I also went to the movies quite a bit, the best things I saw were Mad Hot Ballroom & Layer Cake. I discovered a bar with a rooftop garden literally a stone's throw from my apt but the thing that excites me the most is the upcoming New York Asian Film Festival. Pity the three friends with me when I finally picked up a hard copy of the schedule and movie descriptions on Sunday afternoon. I spent the next hour reading aloud nearly every synopsis and encouraging them to choose which ones they might like.
I'm so lucky my friends adore me. Finding people to attend close to 30 films with me within a span of less than two weeks is not an easy endeavor. Sure the ex will be at most of the flicks I've chosen, but we will not be sitting together this year and while I can handle watching a flick alone, I hate not having anyone to discuss it with afterward. My hunt for a boy who likes the same kind of movies I do, can engage in a decent intelligent conversation and is hot enough to make me swoon continues. Wait, I found that guy, he just isn't interested in me "like that." So allow me to revise my manhunt wishlist by adding killer kisser, cuddle champion, a lack of relationship fear, oh and of course, an unwavering attraction to me.
I apologize to the fetishists seeking a blow by blow of the events I attended this week. Honestly, I was so exhausted and working so hard, it is really all a blur of lacing up my boots and tightening my corsets over and over again.
Saturday
You Always Wanted to Know How Being a Pro-Domme Perverted My Sence of Normalcy
It is amusing how twisted my sense of normalcy is. The other day at the dungeon, I was chatting with Mistress Alicia in the reception area when a food delivery arrived. She rushed to hide as I opened the door. Bewildered, I said, "It's ok, it is just the delivery guy, not your client." She cocked her head to the side and gestured at herself. It took me a moment to realize that she was in full fetish regalia: skin tight latex pants, barely there halter and thigh high boots. Of course she was correct, the delivery guy did not need to see her attire. But we both laughed out loud that momentarily I just didn't understand. She looked perfectly normal (and scrumptiously hot) to me.
I had another "wearing fetish gear is perfectly normal" moment over at Rubbercat. I was wearing a short blue latex dress, a black brocade corset and six-inch heels. A guy that I had found adorably attractive when he entered, stopped to chat a moment with me on his way out. I invited him out for a drink and we talked while he waited for me to be "off-duty." Once I had finished, I told him to wait just another minute so that I could change. Afterward I wondered if he had met me in jeans, a black t-shirt, my leather jacket and flip-flops if our initial chemistry would have been the same. It just never occurred to me while I was, that I was hitting on someone with my cleavage and the the length of my legs on full display. He was intelligent, amusing (and as previously mentioned, quite adorable). Too bad he doesn't live in this country.
I had another "wearing fetish gear is perfectly normal" moment over at Rubbercat. I was wearing a short blue latex dress, a black brocade corset and six-inch heels. A guy that I had found adorably attractive when he entered, stopped to chat a moment with me on his way out. I invited him out for a drink and we talked while he waited for me to be "off-duty." Once I had finished, I told him to wait just another minute so that I could change. Afterward I wondered if he had met me in jeans, a black t-shirt, my leather jacket and flip-flops if our initial chemistry would have been the same. It just never occurred to me while I was, that I was hitting on someone with my cleavage and the the length of my legs on full display. He was intelligent, amusing (and as previously mentioned, quite adorable). Too bad he doesn't live in this country.
Tuesday
The awesome day off that wasn't really
Yesterday was a great day. I turned down multiple shifts at the dungeon on the premise that I had worked for something like 8 or 9 days straight and needed a day off damnit. I got up at 10:30 am for an appointment with The Trainer. Cardinal rule of the day off number one broken: sleeping late. But as usual, I enjoyed my workout. The weather was perfect yesterday afternoon. Jeni and I had a late brunch over at Yuca Bar accompanied by exquisite lime Mojitos. I went for a pedicure and then got ready for session with jimybob. I know, doing a session on "the big day off" also contradicts the whole day off theme. I adore both playing with and spending time with jimmybob so going into the dungeon for him wasn't the hardest choice. Afterward we went out for an amazing Russian dinner, which I followed up with an assignation with my favorite fuckbuddy, who also happens to be Russian. How thematic!
Monday
Drugs: coke to nicotine to viagra, bear with me, it makes sense
How bizarre to read a novel about a heroin addict that is uncomfortably resonant. Throughout my life, I've sporadically kept journals and even within this blog are those forlorn/angry/melancholy entries about seeking something "real." Add that novel to the flick I watched tonight and it dawns on me how lucky I am that I never became a junkie or a cokehead. I suppose one would need to choose to do either of those drugs in order to follow that path, which I never will. I already suspect that I would love cocaine. After all, it is the drug of choice for people with ADD. I'll never really know if it was just good training by my mother or losing my virginity to a recovering addict that has me so properly set against using hard drugs. Those things of course or just being intelligent. But then I know so many people with a brain who've chosen to use. I don't think it is some exceptional thing that I've literally just said no every time a bump was offered. Actually yesterday I wondered briefly if it was some fear or lack of nerve. Don't worry, I think starting to use drugs at 30 would be pretty fucking lame. I chose my vices a long time ago: caffeine, nicotine, food and sex. Order subject to daily reconsideration.
I'm accepting calls via niteflirt again. Today's most interesting was a guy calling to ask if I had any experience combining viagra with cock & ball torture. Basically he keeps losing his hard-on during cbt, even though he maintains that he is still completely aroused. His mistress continues to follow his body's cues rather than his verbal feedback and eases up or stops completely. I told him to see his doc, get a scrip and go for it. BDSM is just another flavor of sexuality (he responded to that comment by telling me BDSM is an advanced form of sexuality, at which I laughed) and if the stimulus he is receiving does in fact turn him on, the viagra should work the same way it would for a vanilla guy getting a blowjob. I'm looking forward to his followup call on this little experiment.
I'm accepting calls via niteflirt again. Today's most interesting was a guy calling to ask if I had any experience combining viagra with cock & ball torture. Basically he keeps losing his hard-on during cbt, even though he maintains that he is still completely aroused. His mistress continues to follow his body's cues rather than his verbal feedback and eases up or stops completely. I told him to see his doc, get a scrip and go for it. BDSM is just another flavor of sexuality (he responded to that comment by telling me BDSM is an advanced form of sexuality, at which I laughed) and if the stimulus he is receiving does in fact turn him on, the viagra should work the same way it would for a vanilla guy getting a blowjob. I'm looking forward to his followup call on this little experiment.
Wednesday
Asian Flick Interlude
I still haven't seen Ong Bak, but I intend to rectify that shortly as well as Miike's One Missed Call. Dates and some flicks have been announced for my favorite film festival! And I just discovered a blog from one of the guys that puts together said festival. He came up in conversation a few weeks ago when I was at a going away party for a friend. It seems he went to college with me or more likely just before me. The place was so damn small I would think if we were there at the same time I would have remembered him. I haven't read through all of his entries, but based on his movie intros at the festival, he is so worth reading.
Sodomy in the Office!
I have had a few requests to meet clients in their offices, but nothing had ever come to fruition before today. He met me outside the building and escorted me to his office. In the elevator we made small talk about living in NYC and the weather. I knew what he really wanted to talk about, but didn't dare until we were safely within the confines of his private office. Once there, I peeled off my jeans, leather jacket and black t-shirt to reveal my bra, corset, panties and garter-belted stockings. I took my hair down and allowed him to watch as I applied my red lipstick and gloss. He was fairly panting by the time I slipped into black leather stiletto pumps. I commanded him to strip and put on the lacey black panties I had brought for him while I strapped on my dildo. He transformed instantly from a distinguished businessman into my writhing slut. I sat in his chair with him kneeling before me. He gave head to my strap-on while stroking his "clit" through the panties. I reached down, pinched his nipples and told him how much I was enjoying using his pussy face. After a bit, I got up, bent him over his desk and threatened to fuck him like the little bitch slut I knew he was. He begged me to do it. I gloved and lubed up, inserting one, then two, then three fingers while he humped his desk. I placed the head of my strap-on between his cheeks and in excitement or fear, he came all over the papers on his desk. I hope they weren't anything important...
Sunday
Insomnia and Mother's Day
I have been a complete insomniac lately. Finding it hard to fall asleep before I'm entirely exhausted and barely sleeping more than 4 to 6 hours when I do. Initially I thought that turning 30 was of no consequence. Then a few days before my birthday I started to really evaluate where I am and have been, as well as where I am going. I may have mentioned this previously, but after leaving my ex, I basically resumed my life where I had left it at 23 when we began dating. I've gone back to all of my old jobs and lifestyle. Post bday, I know that nothing is actually different and that it is just a marker on the calendar.
Mother's Day. The first time I attempted to visit my mom's grave was on a rainy mother's day. I remember being soaked, holding flowers and waiting for the train. Everything had gone wrong timewise that day and I never actually made it. I'm confident that there was an element of selfsabotage at work, as I do not think I was ready to face her grave or really that she was not on some extended vacation.
More and more of my friends have given birth and therefore become moms. Ironically, my two closest friends to have had children are both women who maintained that they would never do so. I on the otherhand, was always certain that I would have children. I always thought that 31 or 32 was the right age for me to do that. Potentially arbitrarily chosen, but most likely because my mom was 31 when she had me. I feel relatively confident that I'll be pushing that timeline back a bit. Someone recently asked me what I wanted to be a decade from now. For a moment I didn't know how to answer and then epiphany style I realized that the only thing I did know about that far in the future was that I would like to be a mother by then. Since I am single, my friend then asked if I would be willing to do it on my own. I said no. I laughed and said that I would like a partner for this particular endeavor.
Mother's Day. The first time I attempted to visit my mom's grave was on a rainy mother's day. I remember being soaked, holding flowers and waiting for the train. Everything had gone wrong timewise that day and I never actually made it. I'm confident that there was an element of selfsabotage at work, as I do not think I was ready to face her grave or really that she was not on some extended vacation.
More and more of my friends have given birth and therefore become moms. Ironically, my two closest friends to have had children are both women who maintained that they would never do so. I on the otherhand, was always certain that I would have children. I always thought that 31 or 32 was the right age for me to do that. Potentially arbitrarily chosen, but most likely because my mom was 31 when she had me. I feel relatively confident that I'll be pushing that timeline back a bit. Someone recently asked me what I wanted to be a decade from now. For a moment I didn't know how to answer and then epiphany style I realized that the only thing I did know about that far in the future was that I would like to be a mother by then. Since I am single, my friend then asked if I would be willing to do it on my own. I said no. I laughed and said that I would like a partner for this particular endeavor.
Saturday
About Last Night...
I've maintained for awhile that I no longer play on my own time. Over the last few months,I made a friend via this blog, another thing I have not been particularly interested in, as I have possibly more friends than I need. After a lengthy email correspondence and a phone friendship, we finally had a drink together last night. Less than an hour later he was naked, blindfolded and bound in my bed. Yet another "rule" broken. I typically don't drink & play (I'd only had one beer, it wasn't as though I was drunk).
It was good and fun and possibly an important experience for me. Our play was relatively brief, but intense (for both of us, I think). It was great to totally improvise as I had no toys at home. Rope bondage is not my forte, but it was nice to know that those skills aren't rusted out. Mac geeks will appreciate that I bound his wrists and ankles with the old style blue & white G3 power cords (translucent blue and quite thick). His bondage was not elaborate, but very secure. His descent into "subspace" was fast and deep, though he was relatively nonverbal, his body was very responsive. There was slapping, spanking, much pinching, hair pulling (and pulling out), fire and cigarette play. Our play was at times severe but always sensual. Granted, I am something of a safety nazi and I don't believe in permanent damage, but the awareness that I could truly do anything I wanted to him was incredible. I had only the vaguest sense of both his limits and interests. It was truly about me hurting him for my own pleasure and amusement. And that was hot.
It was good and fun and possibly an important experience for me. Our play was relatively brief, but intense (for both of us, I think). It was great to totally improvise as I had no toys at home. Rope bondage is not my forte, but it was nice to know that those skills aren't rusted out. Mac geeks will appreciate that I bound his wrists and ankles with the old style blue & white G3 power cords (translucent blue and quite thick). His bondage was not elaborate, but very secure. His descent into "subspace" was fast and deep, though he was relatively nonverbal, his body was very responsive. There was slapping, spanking, much pinching, hair pulling (and pulling out), fire and cigarette play. Our play was at times severe but always sensual. Granted, I am something of a safety nazi and I don't believe in permanent damage, but the awareness that I could truly do anything I wanted to him was incredible. I had only the vaguest sense of both his limits and interests. It was truly about me hurting him for my own pleasure and amusement. And that was hot.
Thursday
It's A Boy!
So...last night's Rubbercat was relatively uneventful. Lola and I were the official Door Bitches. We took a leisurely walk home, got in the door and the call came. My boss was in labor, so at 3:30am I headed over to her apt and just before 8am she gave birth to a healthy baby boy with a full head of hair. More details later.
Wednesday
LOLA!!!! Tickle Torture
There are few things as perfect as waking up to coffee that has already been made.
I'm dogsitting for Lola, the absolutely amazing and killer cute French Bulldog. She'll be with me tonight at the door of Rubbercat, if you'd like to meet her. Be forewarned, you will fall in love.
I had an amazingly fun session the other day. I've never listed tickle torture among my interests or specialites, but perhaps I should, now that I'm regularly sporting a set of talons. First off, my client was outrageously sensitive and very responsive to the lightest touch. I've always enjoyed sensation play and a responsive sub, but this guy was overwhelmed. I have such a long reach and while he was bound face down, the combination of my nails teasing behind his left ear at the same time as his right ankle had him pleading, begging and writhing. I so love to see that kind of helplessness! He never knew where I might touch him next; his fear and excitement were palpable.
I'm dogsitting for Lola, the absolutely amazing and killer cute French Bulldog. She'll be with me tonight at the door of Rubbercat, if you'd like to meet her. Be forewarned, you will fall in love.
I had an amazingly fun session the other day. I've never listed tickle torture among my interests or specialites, but perhaps I should, now that I'm regularly sporting a set of talons. First off, my client was outrageously sensitive and very responsive to the lightest touch. I've always enjoyed sensation play and a responsive sub, but this guy was overwhelmed. I have such a long reach and while he was bound face down, the combination of my nails teasing behind his left ear at the same time as his right ankle had him pleading, begging and writhing. I so love to see that kind of helplessness! He never knew where I might touch him next; his fear and excitement were palpable.
Saturday
Censored by ARTnews!
Last week I designed an ad for the upcoming group show at Arena:
Despite the bizarre resemblence to my ex's current gf, I thought it had come out nicely. Yes it has fetishy overtones, but I still felt the image (by Lochai) qualified as "fine art." It seems the staff at ARTnews did not agree. The day after I submitted the ad I was woken up by by a phone call wherein it was explained to me that their readership might be "uncomfortable" with the ad as it stood. I was dead asleep when this call came in and I am not the final decision maker about advertising the studio, so I told the chick I'd speak with my boss and call her back. Now the thing to realize is that of the images in this show that I have seen thus far, this was certainly the tamest. When designing the ad, my other option was a chick wearing a gas mask cradling a blowup doll also sporting a gas mask. Wonder what their readers would think about that one...
So I start looking at the image trying to figure out what was so offensive about it. Is it the fact that the girl looks so young? It isn't like they called and asked for the model's ID. Bare boobs? The last ad I designed for them had bare breasts. Once I was properly caffeinated, I called back. I explained the relative tameness and asked what precisely was their issue with the image. Could I kill some of the contrast? Maybe if the image wasn't so prominent, would they let me use it? The answer was no. They suggested (and as you can see below in the censored version)
that I use detail from the image rather than the whole. Are you ready for what their problem was? Her "gesture" as they delicately phrased it. I guess somehow having your hand over your crotch is the borderline between "fine art" and pornography. Someone I work with had the best innocent exclamation in response to this whole situation, she said "But you can see all of her fingers! It isn't like she's doing anything."
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: I turn 30 in less than two weeks. The time for shopping is now.
Despite the bizarre resemblence to my ex's current gf, I thought it had come out nicely. Yes it has fetishy overtones, but I still felt the image (by Lochai) qualified as "fine art." It seems the staff at ARTnews did not agree. The day after I submitted the ad I was woken up by by a phone call wherein it was explained to me that their readership might be "uncomfortable" with the ad as it stood. I was dead asleep when this call came in and I am not the final decision maker about advertising the studio, so I told the chick I'd speak with my boss and call her back. Now the thing to realize is that of the images in this show that I have seen thus far, this was certainly the tamest. When designing the ad, my other option was a chick wearing a gas mask cradling a blowup doll also sporting a gas mask. Wonder what their readers would think about that one...
So I start looking at the image trying to figure out what was so offensive about it. Is it the fact that the girl looks so young? It isn't like they called and asked for the model's ID. Bare boobs? The last ad I designed for them had bare breasts. Once I was properly caffeinated, I called back. I explained the relative tameness and asked what precisely was their issue with the image. Could I kill some of the contrast? Maybe if the image wasn't so prominent, would they let me use it? The answer was no. They suggested (and as you can see below in the censored version)
that I use detail from the image rather than the whole. Are you ready for what their problem was? Her "gesture" as they delicately phrased it. I guess somehow having your hand over your crotch is the borderline between "fine art" and pornography. Someone I work with had the best innocent exclamation in response to this whole situation, she said "But you can see all of her fingers! It isn't like she's doing anything."
PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: I turn 30 in less than two weeks. The time for shopping is now.
Tuesday
still alive, though not online much these days
This is just to say that I am not dead in a ditch somewhere. I've been insanely busy doing prep work and promotion for this year's Black & Blue Ball. With my boss's due date less than a week away, I am prepared for her to go into labor at any moment. Overall life is currently very social and perhaps a bit soaked in Jack Daniels. I'm still addicted to the gym and going 4 or 5 times every week. I've actually gone to yoga classes there a few times (which I sincerely did not think I would ever do). I finally got my hands on a copy of Malcom Gladwell's Blink which is interesting but not nearly as exciting as I found The Tipping Point.
Writer's Block and Porn Star Nails
I did something potentially significant today. I may have just broken a decade long case of writer's block. No, I did not begin The Great American Novel. Some might not even consider what I cobbled together to be "Writing" but it is an article that will find its way into print. It wasn't like I wanted to do this or even was particularly inspired by the content, though it was regading some art that I very much enjoyed viewing. It was a question of necessity for someone I care about who was too frustrated to write the piece and asked me to do it. So, I did. I'm not all kinds of proud or even entertaining the thought that it is some great work. It most certainly isn't. But I wrote it and that is what counts.
I know this may seem silly, but I got the most amazing manicure yesterday. I need to take a photo. My nails are a touch longer than usual and an incredible metallic shade of burgundy. The color is called Gash from Urban Decay and I swear they look like porn star nails. They are just so hot and so sexy it is ridiculous. Every movement with them is intrinsically sexual. I'm not exaggerating, I keep catching sight of them and being entranced by them.
I know this may seem silly, but I got the most amazing manicure yesterday. I need to take a photo. My nails are a touch longer than usual and an incredible metallic shade of burgundy. The color is called Gash from Urban Decay and I swear they look like porn star nails. They are just so hot and so sexy it is ridiculous. Every movement with them is intrinsically sexual. I'm not exaggerating, I keep catching sight of them and being entranced by them.
Thursday
Kinky & Lonely on craigslist
I am not the craigslist missed connections junkie that I used to be, but I do still check it out every now and again. Particularly of course when I've spotted and smiled at a cutie on my travels. Tonight I checked it out of boredom. I'm out in the Hamptons and there really isn't a lot to do on a Thursday evening out here. Imagine my major amusement at a posting about last night's party at opaline! Of course the silly guy was waaaaay too vague:
Mistress Evita's Party - m4wUm hello? I was enforcing the dresscode, EVERYONE was wearing leather & latex!!!! Furthering the concept that kinky people are lonely too, I came across this one too:
Original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/mis/66321301.html
Posted by: anon-66321301@craigslist.org
Posted on: 2005-03-31, 2:00PM
You sexy, wearing leather and latex, stockings and great boots. me, hot, dark hair, all in leather, with needing to submit look in eyes....
prisoner/warden roleplay
Original URL: http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/mis/66154666.html
Posted by: anon-66154666@craigslist.org
Posted on: 2005-03-30, 1:33PM
Hey--I worked briefly as a dom and I had a hot warden/prisoner session in Mid-town with a young, handsome brunette who said he lived in the area. At the time I was a platinum blond, busty, wearing a leather dress. I am no longer working there, however, I have an interest in the scene, and I thought we had a decent connection and a good rapport. If this posting finds you--doubtful, I'm sure--and you don't find this extremely unprofessional of me--please drop me a line. At the very least, I'd like to have a friend or two on the scene--;)
Inappropriate...Am I wrong?
I was once again the Rubbercat Door Cunt last night, however this was the first time that I was actually in a bitchy mood. While I typically think of myself as a people person, every now and again I find myself just hating everyone. Strict dress code actually means strict dress code. OK fine, not everyone owns fetish gear and I can live with that, but how terribly difficult is it to rustle up all black? My stock response to people wearing blue jeans is that they want to come in, they can take them off and last night over a dozen people did. That was quite amusing.
There was one incident last night of an entirely personal nature that utterly bewildered me. My ex and I had arranged for him to drop by to pick up a CD from me. He did, we chatted for a bit and engaged in the now typical, bizarrely comfortable banter. On one hand it makes sense, we were together and best friends for so long and know each other so well. But of course in some ways things are still very awkward between us, it has only been six months since I left him. The prearranged visit was not problematic. However his return with his 19-year-old gf, who was a member of our staff and still works at the shop is what disconcerted me. Somewhere is the depths of the shop they dug up a silver bustier/zip up corset and matching zip-crotch pants. And decided for reasons not even vaguely understood by me to bring her over to show me. Their pretext was something along the lines of that they dressed her up to use the bathroom at Opaline. Whatever. The top was on backwards. They thought that the zippers should match up, but there were cups for her nonexistent breasts bagging a bit against her back. Am I wrong in thinking that this was inappropriate? I know a priori that it was his idea. She was just his little dress-up toy. What the fuck was he thinking? Oooooh she can wear fetishy stuff too? Somehow it is this foolishness that hurts me. Is it because I have not yet found someone to hatch ridiculous plans with?
There was one incident last night of an entirely personal nature that utterly bewildered me. My ex and I had arranged for him to drop by to pick up a CD from me. He did, we chatted for a bit and engaged in the now typical, bizarrely comfortable banter. On one hand it makes sense, we were together and best friends for so long and know each other so well. But of course in some ways things are still very awkward between us, it has only been six months since I left him. The prearranged visit was not problematic. However his return with his 19-year-old gf, who was a member of our staff and still works at the shop is what disconcerted me. Somewhere is the depths of the shop they dug up a silver bustier/zip up corset and matching zip-crotch pants. And decided for reasons not even vaguely understood by me to bring her over to show me. Their pretext was something along the lines of that they dressed her up to use the bathroom at Opaline. Whatever. The top was on backwards. They thought that the zippers should match up, but there were cups for her nonexistent breasts bagging a bit against her back. Am I wrong in thinking that this was inappropriate? I know a priori that it was his idea. She was just his little dress-up toy. What the fuck was he thinking? Oooooh she can wear fetishy stuff too? Somehow it is this foolishness that hurts me. Is it because I have not yet found someone to hatch ridiculous plans with?
Tuesday
My First Session...
There is a post currently over on maxfisch asking "How old were you during your first session?" I related this story to someone recently and think that perhaps it is worth telling here. I've been a pro-domme since I was 19, but my first paid session happened when I was only 9. My best friend and I did all the experimentation that prepubescent girls do when the parents are asleep and the bedroom door is closed. However our play was definitely colored by the porn stashes we had read. We acted out the stories in Forum Letters and Cheri but being the intelligent creative creatures that we were, eventually we made up our own scenarios. The one I recall most vividly contained sensation play that I think I could be proud of as a pro, much less as a nine-year-old child. I had tied her spread eagled and face up on her (of course!) canopied four poster bed using our tights. I had sucked, tweaked and pinched her nipples, and no I can not tell you how she hid the black and blues from her mother or how she explained them if they were discovered. I was toying with her and alternating between hot and cold play using ice cubes and a blowdryer on its highest setting. I recall running the blowdryer slowly along the inside of her thighs and under her breasts. Moving it so slowly that the heat could have actually burned her. Then without warning dragging an icecube across those same parts. The true defining moment of this encounter was when I placed an ice cube directly on her clit and left it there to melt. She had not yet come though I had brought her very close several times. For reasons I can not recall, I was suddenly bored of our game and told her that I was done and didn't want to play any longer that day. She begged and pleaded with me not to stop, to just finish her off. I think that may have been the first time I heard the anguish of naked need in another's voice. I was already leaning over to begin untying her when she offered me her allowance. For the rest of the month, if only I would finish what I had begun. I did. And I collected.
Saturday
no time, interest or energy
Truth be told, I do not have the time, interest or energy required to remove the over 50 duplicates of my last post. I may have a slave take care of it for me eventually, but for now, they stand. Other than working out somewhat religiously, watching crap movies and having tremendous amounts of sex, there's nothing really happening in my life right now. I have not been in session in over a week. My day job is keeping me relatively busy and in pursuit of avoiding my apt, my nights have been very social. I am however, inexplicably restless. I need some new stimulus. I did score a beautiful pair of lace-up thigh high leather boots at an obscenely low price. I'll be shooting pix in them soon.
Wednesday
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
Cell Phone Hell
I am formally in cell phone hell. I just got a new phone less than a month ago, but the reception on it has steadily declined in that time. I receive upwards of 40 calls each day. Sometimes, it never even rings (that I hear anyway) but suddenly I have 5 new voicemails. I can not resist picking up when it does actually ring through, but no one can hear me anyway so it is a ridiculous exercise in playing out that cell phone commercial, "Can you hear me now?" VERY frustrating. So if you are one of the poor people who has been subject to this nonconsensual torture, I do apologize. Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I'm feeling sorta withdrawn.
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