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.


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!


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.


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...


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.