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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.