You want me? Skype me!

Yeah, yeah, I know I've been a lazy blogger again. I actually have several unfinished posts, that I will probably get done this week since...I'm in Anguilla! I'm not normally a product hyper, but skype is brilliant. And if you have any desire to speak with me this week, skype is the only way it is gonna happen. (email me for my user name) With everyone having cellphones these days, long distance calling is no longer an issue, unless you are calling internationally. Basically skype is like AIM or any insant message program, however it uses voice. If you are on a pc, you need a microphone in and you can either use your speakers or earphones for audio out. But of course my lovely ibook requires no additional equipment. Its internal mic & speakers work perfectly!

Damn I Love Foot Fetishists!

I'd have to read through my archives to be sure, but I'm confident that every six months or so I post an "ode to the foot fetishist." Before I became a pro-domme I had only had my toes sucked once. I was in college, on a road trip and my bare feet hanging over the passenger seat proved too much temptation for one of my companions to resist. I was confused by how good it felt because I had not yet accepted feet as a sexual region. I still thought they were dirty, gross and ugly. I adore foot fetishists for opening that door for me. Now, I absolutely love having my toes sucked, my soles licked and the ball and heel gently nibbled on. I can now accept the compliments on the size of my feet, the curve of my arches, the spacing between my toes and the wrinkles of my soles.

There are so many variables when it comes to a foot fetish session. Will the attention come from a place of worship and devotion or does it need to be forced as a form of humiliation? Must my feet be freshly pedicured, straight from the salon or have they been marinating in sweat all day? Last night my client reverently removed my snow boots, plastic bags and two pair of socks to reveal my damp and stinkily fragrant feet. After an hour of his tongue washing my feet, ankles and calves, my panties were soaking wet.

Kinky Korners...

Gloria Brame, author of Different Lovingposes an interesting q on her blog. In response to the town currently being built with plans as follows

"the town’s stores won’t be allowed to sell pornographic magazines, pharmacies won’t sell condoms or birth control pills, and there will be no X-rated channels on cable television.

She proposes:

"Anyway...instead of morbid visions of apocalyptic America, dividing into warring city/states ruled by despots and religious fanatics, one could dwell on the happier fantasy of a quaint little future-town called Kinky Corners....yeah...way better. Way happier. Way less realistic but what the hell....

No one under 18 allowed! Compulsory spankings! The return of public stocks - only these will be equipped with vibrators! Dungeons on every block, where you can stop in for a "quickie" before heading home! All-Roman-Polanski art-houses, all the time! Appearing in public in bermuda shorts and white socks punishable by fine!
...
So...would you live in a BDSM town? What would your SM utopia look like?"

I've just posed her q on maxfisch. But I realize I never answered the q myself.

Would I live in Kinky Korners? No, probably not. There's always the OWK but this is probably part of why I'm not a huge fan of BDSM clubs or parties. When I play, it is an intimate thing. I don't appreciate other people's private lives being thrown into mine...why would I drag anyone else into my playtime? Sure I've played publicly. And I appreciate the support I've found in the BDSM community. However, exhibitionist as I may seem, I can actually be incredibly private.

When Supposed Grown-Ups Go Sledding

Wanna know what I did this weekend? Snow tubing! Ridiculously silly and fun. It was more about the roadtrip as we were on the road for nearly three hours each way and on the "slope" for less than two, but damn we had a great time.

Why do my sessions always run so thematically? A few weeks ago it was all about the corporal beat down, three clients in a row who could actually receive marks! And now it seems the foot fetishists are fiending for me. But where, oh where, are the electrics guys? I really want to explore the potential of my (no longer so new) TENS unit!

It has been almost three weeks since my last post. I've played a few times and while my sessions were fun, I just don't really have anything to say about them. Actually I haven't had much to say about anything. I've been in this very non-contemplative space for the last several weeks. Until this this weekend. All I did was talk. Hours upon hours of random meandering conversations, primarily with boyfriend, who I referred to as "the warm vanilla body waiting in my bed" as I departed from byte last night.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, I adore the OED

OK, I've gone on before about how much I idolize the OED. Imagine how thrilling I found this entry on Maud's blog...I spent half an hour entering random words. When I was younger it was the derivation, the roots that fascinated me. Now it all about usage. When and where a word first appeared in print, the quotations used to illustrate its meaning. Words just continually captivate me. I've had some very ADD moments where I'll stumble across a word and everything stops while it bounces around my brain.

People Who Smoke Weed Are Morons, yeah I was stoned.

I'm still recovering from my dental debacle, nearly there though (I hope!). Understandably I haven't been available for session over the last few weeks, so I've no session stories to share. I saw the 24 Hours On Craigslist movie. However I am unable to give a proper review, as I was stoned. I thought it was hysterical, but my opinion on anything that evening can not be considered reliable. I haven't smoked weed in close to a decade. But I had a houseguest. A friend from my ancient past; sometimes it just makes sense to walk down memory lane. It's kinda embarrassing. Anyone who knows me would tell you that I don't do any drugs outside of caffeine and nicotine. (Regularly, that is, I do drink on occasion). I was the complete stereotypical moron stoner. I HATE THOSE PEOPLE!!!!!! The only thing I regret is that a friend of mine was looking for some advice and support while I was ridiculously high. I had no comprehension of what she was trying to tell me, nor was I capable in any way shape or form of giving her my typically solid advice. She's hanging out with the boyfriend she was arguing with that evening tonight, so obviously everything worked itself out. But I still feel terrible that I not only couldn't give her the support she needed, I was utterly oblivious to what she wanted or needed from me that night. They say coke is the ADD drug of choice. A self medicating thing. I've never tried it. But I'll tell you, weed exacerbated my ADD like nothing ever has. I was without an attention span.

In Bed.

I guess you've all been wondering where the hell I've been. Mostly in bed. Three major things have happened since my last post. I got cable, a new boy and a tooth extracted (with bonus complications!). All of the above conspire to keep me "in bed" more than out and about.

Honestly cable hasn't really thrilled me or incapacitated me as I feared, though I will say I'm grateful for its mindnumbing qualities while I've been trying to numb the right side of my face. The new boy is sweet. Very, very sweet. While I was still in bed on a recent Sunday morning, he went out and bought the makings for chocolate chip pancakes (and made them!). And that's really all I have to say about him for public consumption. The tooth: I've got quite a bit to say about this. Last Thursday evening I had a toothache. By Friday morning I was in agony and went to see a dentist as an emergency case. While I have obtained health insurance for myself, I do not have dental. I'd only heard good things about the NYU dental school clinic. Figuring that an extraction is pretty basic for a dentist and that they wouldn't let the students work on people if they were clueless, adding in the bargain basement price of $90 including follow-up visits...I went in.

The first "student dentist" I saw was terrific. She had been a dentist in Russia and was enrolled toward being certified here. She inspired absolute confidence. However once we determined that an extraction was necessary, she handed me off to the Oral and Maxillofacial Surgery department. Things went immediately downhill. My new student dentist promptly dissolved my confidence in her abilities by numbing the wrong side of my mouth. I got freaked out and jerked my head away. Her partner took over at that point. While I'd never had any serious dental work done before (I didn't even get my first cavity until I was 18 or 19), I had done some research and THOUGHT I knew what to expect. It was so much more violent than I had expected! The tooth shattered. I felt the bits on my tongue and lips. Finally they called over their professor, he hauled out the drill, and got the roots of my evil tooth out of my head. He then told the wonder twins to irrigate and stitch me up. Five minutes later I was on my way, with a baggie of gauze, a sheet of instructions and no antibiotics or painkillers. But hey, they know what they're doing, right? The pain came and went all weekend, I found the most effective dose of motrin to be about 6 tablets. But I was utterly out of commission. Monday and Tuesday I had some pain, but was successfully controlling it with the super doses of motrin. However Wednesday afternoon, the pain was so intense I couldn't concentrate on anything and finally called the clinic. They told me to come back in. I requested and got the wonderful initial Russian chick. It seems I had developed an infected dry socket that had a large amount of debris. So she and her partner clean out the hole in my jaw pulling out about four pieces of bone that had been floating around, jabbing into my gums and being generally problematic. They also call over their professor to check me out. He proceeds to pull another four or five pieces out, irrigates me and stitches me up himself. I'm now hopped up on mega-sized prescription motrin pills and antibiotics. I've been in bed all day.

Happy New Year

Since my thoughts on New Year's resolutions are in this week's Village Voice, I thought I'd share the most recent pic of my legs:

Books: Dusted. slave: utterly powerless beneath me

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.

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.

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.