Question

For you viewing pleasure, I present...

Classic Red!

Incidently...

...this is the picture the Corporate Suit is licking.

Feet and Shoes

Talking about feet this morning in my post about the Corporate Suit got me thinking and made me super aware of what people were doing with theirs at lunch time. I popped into town to buy some books for the final semester of my Masters and found myself doing my usual London quick-pace around town, but slowing outside each shoe shop I passed.

Patent Leather is in this season, as is the 30s rounded toe, outward curved heel and ribbon fastenings, red, black and silver. I wandered into David Jones, the department store where you can peruse such brands as Malano, Robert Robert, Burburry, Jimmy Choo and many others all under one roof. I tried on a pair of black patent Robert Robert with elastic across the front of the foot, very sexy, but just a little too slim for plates of meat like mine. I suppose I should thank my Mum for making me wear ugly boy shoes as I was growing up, it means that I now have well formed, strong bones but it does mean that most modern shoes are just too narrow.

Then I saw the Jimmy Choo black patent leather ankle boots with a gold highlights around the toe and three straps with gold buckles. The sales lady was excited when I asked to see them in a size 38, but then I should think that was all to do with the commission earned from a $1250 pair of boots. Anyway, she brought them out and gave me a pair of granny stockings to put on, and then I did my best impression of an ugly sister, squeezing my foot into the boot. My toes went in fine, my heel slipped into place without too much fuss, but I had no hope of doing them up. There was a centimetre gap between the top of the tongue and the side of the boot, the straps hung limply, I had managed to turns these works of art into something ordinary. I removed them and stuffed the acid free paper bundles back into them before replacing them in the box, my heart sinking with each movement.

I left the store thinking it was probably best they didn’t fit, I’m still paying for the Malono purchase and I was carrying $142.70 worth of Uni (plus a couple of Alison Tyler) books.

As I walked back to work in my wide, comfy, flat, green leather thongs (made for me by Eugenia Neave of Adelaide) I found myself looking at the ladies feet around me and wandering why they insist on wearing nice, expensive shoes when they don’t look after their feet. Is there really anything less attractive than chipped toe polish, hardened cracked heels and blisters covered with plasters, shuffling along?

The Corporate Suit – part IV

I have written about the Corporate Suit before, here, here and here. Well, it appears he’s getting itchy pants with his vanilla girlfriend that finds his fetish disgusting, because he has reappeared again.

A couple of weeks ago I was about the leave the office when I received an email from him asking how my feet were. My stomach did an annoying flip flop and I informed him that they were well and about to have a pedicure. My brain was saying ignore the mail, but my fingers did the walking. Before I knew it, I was having my toenails painted black as he had expressed his love of the colour. Later the same night I sent him a picture of my black covered toes wearing clear PVC stilettos.

Yesterday I received a photo to my telephone, of him still enjoying the picture after two weeks.

Yes, he’s licking his computer monitor!

The Wanton Whore – part III

He wants me to write all over his sissy little body what a tart, slut and whore he is.
He wants me to mummify him in cling film (what is it about me and the cling film lovers?)
He wants me to force him to wear ladies clothes
He wants to be on webcam for all the world to see when the above (and more) happens.

He also has a desire to give up smoking, do you think making him be smoke free for two weeks before any of these things happen is enough of an incentive to assist him to quit?

Expelled

The Literary Schoolboy is being expelled before he really had a chance to enrol in the lessons I could teach. He stood me up on Saturday.

I did however take advantage of the free time and sat in a café on Darling Harbour, watched the boats sail in and out under Pyrmont Bridge and read the entire March edition of Madison.

...and I think I've found a house big enough for me to have a playroom.

Signed, Confused of Sydney

I’ve been going over a few things in my head since Thursday morning and have even discussed this with a girlfriend, but still I find myself confused.

As I walked to work at 7.40am I wandered how any man could have me up and ready for work twenty minutes before my alarm would normally go off? That’s the first thing that’s bothering me.

The second thing is why did I find it acceptable that after amazing play and ensuing nooky we should just sit down and watch a couple of episodes of Buffy?

Lastly, I understood the leaving of the t-shirt soaked in rubber polish as I offered to stick it in the wash, but why is it that now, after only two visits I have two t-shirts, a pair of latex gloves, a pair of latex briefs and a full latex hood sitting in my bathroom?

Answers on a postcard please, too…

The Rubbermaid - part two

Why is a guy wrapped

from head to toe

in

rubber and cling film

so arousing?

The Boot Humper

After months of communications over email we finally got together yesterday after our schedules allowed us to meet on a week day, midway between our two homes which are nearly 300kms apart.

There’s something about having a naked man kneeling at my leather clad feet while I’m dressed head to toe in leather that make me so wet, to the point where I teased him by only allowing him to worship to my stocking line, making him smell me. Every now and then I’d flick my toe onto his balls, but then he pulled my foot onto his cock. For that little liberty he received four hard strokes with the paddle.

As he sat at my feet cradling my leg to him, clinging on with tears in his eyes from his paddling I grabbed his hair, pulling his face up and ordered him to hump my boot like a dog.

He left with a smile on his face, a red arse and a sore cock.

The Rubbermaid

He took twenty minutes to polish the latex gloves we had rolled over my fingers and up my arms. The higher the shine on my black covered digits the deeper the far away look in his eyes became.

I soon started to test his tickle tolerance. His feet first, stroking across the skin until his toes curled, the tightness of his skin showing the white of scars passed. I moved up his legs to the join but careful not to touch the rock hard evidence he was enjoying this. I skipped over to his chest, fingers splayed, smoothing the bare shaved chest …before roughly grabbing his right hand in my latex clad left and pushing his arm high above his head, stretching his side, exposing it to slow torture.

When my fingers drifted to his ears, his flushed cheeks, his nose and mouth, his tongue would dart out to touch the tasty morsel so close, before pulling in and sucking hard.

By the end I have a completely naked man lying on my sofa, while I had more on that I had started the evening wearing. The loving removal of the black latex covering my hands put me back to the beginning.

Literary Schoolboy

I have briefly mentioned this one before, and I’m not sure what to do about him. Actually that’s a lie, I know in my hearts of hearts, but don’t want to write him off just yet. I feel he has potential.

He contacted me yesterday and apologised profusely for not being in contact and explained. I told him not to make excuses and if he couldn’t contact me, just to let me know (no explanation required) he wouldn’t be around for a while. I know, I’m too soft, but it stops me over analysing how much I fu*ked it up.

We chatted for over an hour (talked about his experience, history, work, foot fetish, living arrangements and allsorts of other crap;-))and made a tentative date to catch up for coffee while I was in his neck of the woods today looking for a new place to live. He text me asking if I could meet him somewhere else at lunchtime and I couldn’t as I was without car. So it all fell apart again. I’m now at home, he’s going to phone about five he says.

He sounds really nice and very keen to meet up, but he is hideously unorganised.
What to do?

Ohh well... I have a date with the Rubbermaid tonight… must change mindset.

The Wanton Whore - part two

I had lunch with the little slut yesterday. The merest suggestion earlier in the day meant that he was sat opposite me in the beer garden wearing pink lacy ladies panties under his shorts. Frankly, pink is disappointing as a jezebel would only wear red.

Chocolate Day

Yesterday was Valentines Day. I know you already knew that, but I felt I needed to remind you. Not sure why. Maybe because it passed for me, yet again, as a fizzler day. Nothing happened that would remind me it was a day for lovers.

I did have another first date, he met me in Reactor Rubber as I was on my lunch break and I wanted to purchase myself a pair of latex gloves. As it happens I also got some stocking too which he loved. The look of me trying on the gloves meant that just a twitch of my talc covered toes had him on his knees cleaning it off for me. We had lunch afterwards and he jumped every time I said anything remotely dominant. It was lovely…I can see the Rubbermaid and I having heaps of fun.

The evening was taken up by dinner and drinks with a girl-friend. Haven’t seen her for a while but we had a gossip catch up, she told me all about her love life…and I shared mine, including some pictures of the Wanton Whore. She had a laugh over those as we were walking though the park towards the train station.

I was in bed by 11.30, alone.

Spanking Good Poll Results

The results are in for the which method of spanking do you prefer to use or feel?

A whopping 58% of those who voted prefer to feel a hand making their backside nice a rosy red.

Next most popular is a paddling with 25% having it as their preferred method of rising a shine.

The Flogger and Riding Crop came equal third with 16%, I’m guessing not many pony players read.

Finally the Cane and All of the Above got 8% of the votes.

The ruler is very unpopular as it received no votes. Personally it’s my favourite.

The Wanton Whore

I met my wanton whore online on 16th December last year. He told me he just wanted kinky friends at that time. His profile picture showed him wearing a wetsuit pulled down to his waist, showing his pierced nipples, he’s holding what looks like a spear gun, but is actually a broken ski. Little did I know at the time, but the black box across his eyes was there to hide the glint of pure depravity.

I didn’t hear much from him over the silly season and I wasn’t surprised…I didn’t hear from many people (except this one :-) so when we reconnected on the 25th January I was a surprised that he revealed to me that he wanted to be my puppy. We chatted on yahoo messenger for quite a while that first night, with him revealing his lust for shoes and feet, his desire to be humiliated and most of all his uniqueness in the world of Sydney kink.

We spoke again on messenger a few times before I got fed up and asked if I could call him. I found myself standing in the middle of my lounge, doing the ironing and abusing him over the phone calling him slut, whore and various other names. At the end of call I gave him a task to perform. I told him to put on his red panties with his cock poking out, then write jezebel along his pantyline and send me a picture of it. I forgave his hideous spelling error because he’d never written a z upside down before and it’s an easy mistake to make. Next time he has to get it right.

Since then I have been to the thesaurus and now have a lovely list of name to call him. Harlot, strumpet, tart, whore, slut, floozy, bimbo, doxy, nympho, tramp, minx, trollop, wench, hussy, chippie, libertine, vixen and of course jezebel. But you will come to know him in my comments as LRBs little slut or LRBs wanton slut.

Tales of Serial First Dates

Over the last few days I’ve been busy. With life (been given 60 notice on my place so gotta move), with work (several project on the go) and dating.

I haven’t seen any action since Mr Clingfilm (who incidentally is available again and I nearly had to chop off my own finger to resist mailing him) but I have had a few first meetings.

First there was a naughty school boy, not the one from this entry, but another. This one liked to read passages from books at me down the phone and then be punished for errors in pronunciation. He would then spank himself. We had a date for lunch on Friday. He called me at about 10 to say he couldn’t make it. I was understanding and told him to drop me line later. I haven’t heard from him since. I think the reality and fantasy came a bit close and he got scared. Shame he had a cute bum.

Friday evening turned into date night after a brief conversation on Messenger with the IT Geek. We met for a drink in a suburb midway between us and chatted all night. It was lovely. At no point did I have the desire to push up against a wall and shag him senseless, but I found him very attractive and I think we could have a lot of fun together. It’s highly likely he’ll be at Hellfire on Friday.

Saturday I was house hunting in my best walking shoes (croc thongs) and scruffy jeans and shirt. It was trashing down with rain, I was wet and cold. I got a call for The Builder. Could we catch up for the first date that we’d been trying to have for weeks, and did I mind that he just come from work? Who was I to judge I didn’t even have make-up on. I found a seat at in inside café (I was bloody freezing) and waited. He arrived and he was filthy but he had just come from work. We chatted, drank tea and I nearly missed my next house viewing. It was lovely plus it was a good job I had to be somewhere or I think I would have taken him home for a little afternoon delight.

Meanwhile…since Tuesday last week I’ve been sending humiliation text messages to my online slut. Telling him to perform tasks and sending my photographic proof. I now have some of the most pornographic images I have ever seen in my yahoo inbox and if I need a giggle I just open one of his emails or send him a text. God love him, he loves being verbally abused.

So, I’ve been having fun but no games…watch this space.

Question

I know

it isn’t the red

you

wanted to see

but what do

we think of black

toe

nail varnish?

This colour is the choice of The Corporate Suit who sent me an email today (after a lenghty absense) and when told I was about to have a pedicure requested black toe nails.

What The...?

I’ve had a busy few day on the dating front, so please forgive the mind dump that happened today. But I have one final tale to spin tonight.

On Friday after work I had a first meeting. And because I felt like getting out of the city I drove to meet him. It was only an hour, so not to bad. I had agreed to meet him in the local pub. I’d told him that I would wear a grey top with sparkles and black jeans.

I got to the place and did a quick change in the car, new top, stilettos and red lipstick by MAC (that does not come off, ever). I walked to the door, passed the local smokers, they watched me. I looked through the door and turned right back to my car to change my top back to the orange cotton shirt I’d had on at work all day. I was overdressed wearing lipstick, let alone high heels and a spangly blouse.

The guy turned up wearing thongs and board shorts. We chatted for a while before he asked if I’d like to go home with him to meet the wife?

What the …?

Turns out he was looking for a third. Well Honey…That AIN'T me!

He brought a six pack to take home then walked me to my car. He seemed disappointed and confused when I said, ‘It was a pleasure meeting you, but I really don’t think we could play together.’

Naughty Schoolboy

I love the internet, have I told you that before? Well I do. And here's why.

I’ve chatting to a guy for a few weeks, never met, never even spoken on the telephone. But he wants to be treated like a naughty school boy. Buy all accounts he was one many moons ago and really had the hots for his teacher, anyway, she never spanked him, but he always wanted her too.

So I instructed him to purchase an exercise book. He had to repot to me when he had done that little task. It was done the next day.

I then gave him some lines to write in it;

I shall not stare at teachers breasts/boobs during class. (I gave him the option of pick boobs or breasts)

I saw him online today and asked if he had started his lines yet. He hadn’t, so I told him the consequences of not doing then by the deadline (today midnight, five pages) a spank for every half hour he was overdue. Ten minutes later I was sent a self portrait of him, holding up his book of lines.

Ahh…I could have patted him on the head…instead, I sent a Good Boy and an avatar kiss alone with the next lines he has to write and his new deadline.

A Question of Manners, Conclusion

So it turns out the conversation about being honest with each other only sunk into my brain.

I asked if he was playing with anyone else he said no.

I said that as he travelled a long way to see me I would understand if he didn’t want to come anymore and he should just tell me. He agreed and said vice versa.

I told him that it was OK if he played local to him and if it turned into anything, I wouldn’t be upset, and that I would prefer he just told me instead of dropping of the face of the earth leaving to worry about fatal car accidents. He chuckled and agreed that was the polite thing to do.

This was about two weeks ago.

Yesterday, curiosity got the better of me and I visited his profile for the first time since we met. He hadn’t logged in for two weeks…my heart skipped.

Then I notice an UPDATE : I’m being trailed by a Domme so not looking anymore.

Well…I’ll be honest and admit I cried a bit. Then I called him all the names under the sun and asked the heavens why the f*ck I bothered having the conversation about honesty!

I’m not mad he found a Domme (good on him), but I’m severely pissed that he didn’t see fit to mention it considering the conversation we had maybe a mere two days before he updated his profile.

Chopsticks and Sharp Knives cont…

After standing me up last Friday, then not contacting me to apologise all long weekend. I was shocked that he had the nerve to contact me at all on Tuesday.

He explain that he had thought I had said 12, not 12.30 and that he waiting until 12.25 before leaving. What he doesn’t know is that I was across the street from about 12.15 watching to see if he arrived, and I never saw him.

Even better, he requested I take the afternoon off so he could pleasure me with his naked boby. When I said no, he tried again on Wednesday…again I politely refused his kind offer. On Thursday he finally go the message when I lost it and asked,

‘Will you never stop?’