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'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.

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.

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.

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.