I had to have a little chuckle today when I read that cling wrap (Suran, Glad Wrap, Cling Film) could be dangerous for wrapping foods because of the plastics that are used to make it. The pictures of wrapped steak looked so good and familiar.
How is it for sweaty bodies?
Tuesday, January 12
Tuesday, December 29
Not Much
Not a great deal has happened over the last few months. I'm hoping that will change in the near future.
I had a few clients, but nothing of a really personal nature, so I didn't feel the need to write.
The next few months will see me travelling extensively, so hopefully a little bit of a chance for some racey encounters.
I had a few clients, but nothing of a really personal nature, so I didn't feel the need to write.
The next few months will see me travelling extensively, so hopefully a little bit of a chance for some racey encounters.
Tuesday, March 24
YumCha - CumCha
Over the last couple of months they have been a few interludes of the kinky kind, but none that were worthy of being written about.
This weekend however, Mr. Wrong was in town, so I’m now having trouble climbing stairs and keep grinning like an idiot.
He arrived on Friday afternoon and straight away the magic was back. We had silly music in the car, the conversations that start off clean but soon digress into pure porn and the touching of hands to thigh while I drove. I’m actually surprised that we actually made it to Hellfire, but then that was the event he’d come down for.
We did a few ‘nilla things that folks do when they are away for the weekend. Had yum cha with a friend, watched a movie, went wine tasting and fixed one of my dining room chairs. Mr. Wrong is very handy, and I’m not just talking DIY.
We also got up to allsorts of wrongness that felt ohh so right.
He dressed in latex catsuit, ballet boots, gloves and gasmask, lay on the bed and then I teased him until he couldn’t hold back anymore. It took a while getting there and for a dominant man, he did very well. I enjoyed the fell of him dressed in full latex, while I started in a mini T and shorts, having just had a shower. I needed another shower once we’d finished.
The next night we were both a bit knackered after the excess of the previous evening and a very full day, but still we ended up in situation that will make us both giggle for a while. Just before going to bed, I felt the need to give him a big kiss, but outside in the fresh air, as it was such a lovely night. We ended up have sex in the car like a pair of 17 year old hiding from our parents. It was, I have to say, awesome! It’s really quite amazing the positions you can get into in the back seat of a Subaru Outback.
The last night we really were both exhausted having spent the day driving to the Hunter Valley and back. At 10pm we decided to call it a night and behave ourselves. We both climbed into bed and turned to each other and started chatting (it’s what we do, loads of chat), after about ten minutes, he asked, ‘have you ever just laid down in your latex?’
My answer was no, and we were both out of bed and dressing in catsuits, etc before I’d even finished saying it. Needless to say, we didn’t just lie down and at one point I even ended up cuffed to the St. Andrew Cross.
The day he was to travel home, came too soon. I’d taken the day off work and we spent the morning doing a latex photo shoot. I was dressed in latex; he was in jeans and a t-shirt. All was going well, until he asked me to lie down on a white fluffy background and then straddled me to get a close up. Before we knew it he was starkers and I was in doggie pushing my face into the rubber sheeting.
This weekend however, Mr. Wrong was in town, so I’m now having trouble climbing stairs and keep grinning like an idiot.
He arrived on Friday afternoon and straight away the magic was back. We had silly music in the car, the conversations that start off clean but soon digress into pure porn and the touching of hands to thigh while I drove. I’m actually surprised that we actually made it to Hellfire, but then that was the event he’d come down for.
We did a few ‘nilla things that folks do when they are away for the weekend. Had yum cha with a friend, watched a movie, went wine tasting and fixed one of my dining room chairs. Mr. Wrong is very handy, and I’m not just talking DIY.
We also got up to allsorts of wrongness that felt ohh so right.
He dressed in latex catsuit, ballet boots, gloves and gasmask, lay on the bed and then I teased him until he couldn’t hold back anymore. It took a while getting there and for a dominant man, he did very well. I enjoyed the fell of him dressed in full latex, while I started in a mini T and shorts, having just had a shower. I needed another shower once we’d finished.
The next night we were both a bit knackered after the excess of the previous evening and a very full day, but still we ended up in situation that will make us both giggle for a while. Just before going to bed, I felt the need to give him a big kiss, but outside in the fresh air, as it was such a lovely night. We ended up have sex in the car like a pair of 17 year old hiding from our parents. It was, I have to say, awesome! It’s really quite amazing the positions you can get into in the back seat of a Subaru Outback.
The last night we really were both exhausted having spent the day driving to the Hunter Valley and back. At 10pm we decided to call it a night and behave ourselves. We both climbed into bed and turned to each other and started chatting (it’s what we do, loads of chat), after about ten minutes, he asked, ‘have you ever just laid down in your latex?’
My answer was no, and we were both out of bed and dressing in catsuits, etc before I’d even finished saying it. Needless to say, we didn’t just lie down and at one point I even ended up cuffed to the St. Andrew Cross.
The day he was to travel home, came too soon. I’d taken the day off work and we spent the morning doing a latex photo shoot. I was dressed in latex; he was in jeans and a t-shirt. All was going well, until he asked me to lie down on a white fluffy background and then straddled me to get a close up. Before we knew it he was starkers and I was in doggie pushing my face into the rubber sheeting.
I have to confess to feeling sadness as I drove away for Sydney’s Domestic terminal.
Tuesday, January 27
Sweat It Out
It's really not a good idea to wear head to toe latex when it's nearly 40 degrees C outside. Forty five minutes after this picture was taken I poured a large amount of water out of red thigh high boots.
Flowers and Wine
I’ve been seeing a lot of men lately. Bad breath, ungroomed, metro sexual with sweeter scent than me, muscled, tanned, amorous, chatty and stand offish. And every single one has paid me for my time.
I’ve beaten men. I’ve butt fu*ked men with a strap-on. I’ve inserted my hand into places it shouldn’t be. I’ve helped a man pull on fishnet stockings. I’ve painted a man’s lips. I’ve tied a man by the wrists and ankles and slowly masturbated him until he’s cried for release. I’ve sweated out about 200ml of water while wearing latex on a really hot day. I’ve stroked strangers.
For the most part I’m enjoying myself. I’ve only had one client where I’ve found myself drifting off into my own little world and thinking about something (someone) else.
But I’m missing something. Whether it be the not-boyfriend or one of the many subs, vying for my attention.
I need to find just one person who wants me to accompany them to dinner. Talk about the rising sun while we drink fine wine over a three course feast. Maybe, even a walk along the beach. I know this sound awfully ‘nilla, but every girl needs just a little bit of romance.
I’ve beaten men. I’ve butt fu*ked men with a strap-on. I’ve inserted my hand into places it shouldn’t be. I’ve helped a man pull on fishnet stockings. I’ve painted a man’s lips. I’ve tied a man by the wrists and ankles and slowly masturbated him until he’s cried for release. I’ve sweated out about 200ml of water while wearing latex on a really hot day. I’ve stroked strangers.
For the most part I’m enjoying myself. I’ve only had one client where I’ve found myself drifting off into my own little world and thinking about something (someone) else.
But I’m missing something. Whether it be the not-boyfriend or one of the many subs, vying for my attention.
I need to find just one person who wants me to accompany them to dinner. Talk about the rising sun while we drink fine wine over a three course feast. Maybe, even a walk along the beach. I know this sound awfully ‘nilla, but every girl needs just a little bit of romance.
Monday, January 12
Not so Quiet Day
I was in my tracksuit pants and a loose t-shirt at 3.30 yesterday afternoon and I just finished watching 'What Ever Happened to Baby Jane' when the Batphone rang. The first time for the day. I'd been hoping for a day off, no work. Movies and a bit of house work at my leisure.
'Good Afternoon Mistress, do you think you could fit me in this afternoon?'
I thought about it for a few seconds, then said, 'Yes, 5pm'
One hour was agreed. I had spoken with this fella a couple of times before and as with most of my clients only knew his first name. J.
So I jumped in shower. As I dried off I stood in front of my wardrobe and considered which outfit to wear. He wanted Dominatrix. So leather bra, PVC corset, PVC skirt, stockings and black leather thigh high boots it was. I left my make up until last, just in case he changed his mind. Taking the outfit off is easy, the make-up requires effort to put on and remove.
When he arrived, he was good looking, tall and fit. Once again my boat had come in. I don't mind having fit naked men in my dungeon.
But I got a feeling he was a little drunk, although I couldn't smell anything on him except aftershave. We went through my questions and answers;
Do you have any medical conditions that might affect our play?
What sort of pain do you like? Then a list including clamps and spanking.
But as I had run out of check sheets I was going by memory. I forgot to ask the most important one (in this clients case), Will you obey quickly or fight back?
He was a fighter. Once I had him in my room, and cuffed he started swearing, trying to kick and telling me I was a fucking bitch and I didn't have control of him. To be honest it kinda freaked me out a bit. To stop his mouth running off I shoved a ball gag between his lips and pulled it tight. To stop his wild legs (which incidentally where rather nice) I bound him tight with rope, he was still struggling. I reminded him of the playroom rules, Red, Amber, Green.
He winked at me as I pulled the spandex hood over his head and grabbed his hair through the fabric.
I pulled his head back and whispered in his ear through gritted teeth.
'Now who's in control you slut?'
About forty minutes later he was laying flat on his back as I ground my heel into his nipples. He came by his own hand.
A glass of wine and cigarette (for him) later I put him in a taxi and sent him to work.
'Good Afternoon Mistress, do you think you could fit me in this afternoon?'
I thought about it for a few seconds, then said, 'Yes, 5pm'
One hour was agreed. I had spoken with this fella a couple of times before and as with most of my clients only knew his first name. J.
So I jumped in shower. As I dried off I stood in front of my wardrobe and considered which outfit to wear. He wanted Dominatrix. So leather bra, PVC corset, PVC skirt, stockings and black leather thigh high boots it was. I left my make up until last, just in case he changed his mind. Taking the outfit off is easy, the make-up requires effort to put on and remove.
When he arrived, he was good looking, tall and fit. Once again my boat had come in. I don't mind having fit naked men in my dungeon.
But I got a feeling he was a little drunk, although I couldn't smell anything on him except aftershave. We went through my questions and answers;
Do you have any medical conditions that might affect our play?
What sort of pain do you like? Then a list including clamps and spanking.
But as I had run out of check sheets I was going by memory. I forgot to ask the most important one (in this clients case), Will you obey quickly or fight back?
He was a fighter. Once I had him in my room, and cuffed he started swearing, trying to kick and telling me I was a fucking bitch and I didn't have control of him. To be honest it kinda freaked me out a bit. To stop his mouth running off I shoved a ball gag between his lips and pulled it tight. To stop his wild legs (which incidentally where rather nice) I bound him tight with rope, he was still struggling. I reminded him of the playroom rules, Red, Amber, Green.
He winked at me as I pulled the spandex hood over his head and grabbed his hair through the fabric.
I pulled his head back and whispered in his ear through gritted teeth.
'Now who's in control you slut?'
About forty minutes later he was laying flat on his back as I ground my heel into his nipples. He came by his own hand.
A glass of wine and cigarette (for him) later I put him in a taxi and sent him to work.
Sunday, January 11
Big Day
I had three appointments yesterday.
I greeted the first at the door wearing what looked like a business suit. He wanted to be abused by a Boss figure then make up his mistake by worshipping her body. I didn’t have a problem with that. He had a hot body, it wasn’t a chore at all. I thought to myself as he was knelt before me sliding his tongue up my leg and inhaling deeply, how can wives not enjoy this sort of play? When he got to excited I made him sit back on his haunches and relax. Then I’d let him start again. After he’d cum and gone. I realized I was very wet. That little session had left me very hot.
An hour later the second arrived. The polar opposite of the first body wise, this guy was about 250lb. He wanted to be bound, nipple torture, flogged and humiliated. So I starfished him on the bed, wrote all over him, clamped is nipples with clover clamps and his balls with pegs. He left happy, as least he told me he was.
The final guy was keen. His desires presented my biggest learning curve. Start with a clean out, followed by a butt plug, then strap-on then a fisting.
I’ve never fisted anyone before. I’ve read about it, a lot. I’ve been fisted and I’ve seen it done. But like anything there comes a time when you have to do it for the first time. There the point I reached yesterday. It was interesting.
The knuckles are such a wide point. The fingers go in with relative ease; the knuckles are wide, hard and unforgiving. Slow is the way forward until the body sucks in the rest of your hand and clutches your wrist.
It was an exhausting day that left me horny and resulted in me cuming in about 30 seconds when I went to bed and touched my mini vibe to my clit.
I greeted the first at the door wearing what looked like a business suit. He wanted to be abused by a Boss figure then make up his mistake by worshipping her body. I didn’t have a problem with that. He had a hot body, it wasn’t a chore at all. I thought to myself as he was knelt before me sliding his tongue up my leg and inhaling deeply, how can wives not enjoy this sort of play? When he got to excited I made him sit back on his haunches and relax. Then I’d let him start again. After he’d cum and gone. I realized I was very wet. That little session had left me very hot.
An hour later the second arrived. The polar opposite of the first body wise, this guy was about 250lb. He wanted to be bound, nipple torture, flogged and humiliated. So I starfished him on the bed, wrote all over him, clamped is nipples with clover clamps and his balls with pegs. He left happy, as least he told me he was.
The final guy was keen. His desires presented my biggest learning curve. Start with a clean out, followed by a butt plug, then strap-on then a fisting.
I’ve never fisted anyone before. I’ve read about it, a lot. I’ve been fisted and I’ve seen it done. But like anything there comes a time when you have to do it for the first time. There the point I reached yesterday. It was interesting.
The knuckles are such a wide point. The fingers go in with relative ease; the knuckles are wide, hard and unforgiving. Slow is the way forward until the body sucks in the rest of your hand and clutches your wrist.
It was an exhausting day that left me horny and resulted in me cuming in about 30 seconds when I went to bed and touched my mini vibe to my clit.
IM Me...
Please IM me. Yahoo: fetishrock25
My reply to that email:
Hi
Introductions 101 : If you wish to get to know somebody don't order them to IM you. It's rude and won't work.Try making an effort and actually introducing yourself first with a few interesting details plus a question or two about the person you wish to know. Then exchange a few emails before requesting an exchange of IM usernames.
__________________
Do you think I reacted unreasonably?
My reply to that email:
Hi
Introductions 101 : If you wish to get to know somebody don't order them to IM you. It's rude and won't work.Try making an effort and actually introducing yourself first with a few interesting details plus a question or two about the person you wish to know. Then exchange a few emails before requesting an exchange of IM usernames.
__________________
Do you think I reacted unreasonably?
Wednesday, January 7
Time Waster
I've had a few clients since going pro before Christmas, but only a few. I've had conversations and even telephone conversations with many more, but bookings weren't made after all of those conversations.
I have one guy who calls from a private (silent) number that uses a different name each time he calls. Eventually the conversation always come around to anal and arse play, this is his thing. He tries to con me that he's been to see me before, but I don't want him to know I don't have a client on my limited list called, Chris, Stewart or Aaron. When he talks about my black strap-on he'll start moaning. That's when he gives himself away. His Hmmm is very distinctive.
He annoys more than anything because he makes a booking, then doesn't turn up.
I really want to say to him the next time he calls, and he will call again. 'I'm not a free masturbation service, bugger off.'
I have one guy who calls from a private (silent) number that uses a different name each time he calls. Eventually the conversation always come around to anal and arse play, this is his thing. He tries to con me that he's been to see me before, but I don't want him to know I don't have a client on my limited list called, Chris, Stewart or Aaron. When he talks about my black strap-on he'll start moaning. That's when he gives himself away. His Hmmm is very distinctive.
He annoys more than anything because he makes a booking, then doesn't turn up.
I really want to say to him the next time he calls, and he will call again. 'I'm not a free masturbation service, bugger off.'
Thursday, January 1
Alone
What’s a girl to do when her original plans for New Years get completely destroyed? Make her own fun of course.
I was lounging on the sofa, watching a movies and polishing off the last drops of a bottle of white wine when I was realise it was only 8.30pm and I was bored. My plans for seeing 2009 in with a good friend and a hearty orgasm had been squashed, so I was home alone and slightly pissed.
I got up and walked into my spare room. I use it as a dungeon and all my toys are in there. I switched on the lamps and picked up my medium butt plug, dug several pegs out the box, a ten metre piece of rope and a vibrator.
I took my pants off and I slid onto the well lubed butt plug; it stretched me and filled me making me quiver. Then I took the pegs, one on each nipple, my tight t-shirt holding them firm and pushing them down. Then I spread my legs and clipped the pegs to my moist lips, four on each side. The rope was threaded between my legs holding the butt plug in and looped round the pegs, holding me open. The ends pulled up and wrapped tightly around my torso, clamping my breasts tight.
I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the butt plug push deeper. I rocked from side to side, feeling the plug massaging me from the inside. The pegs tight on my lips, tugging at me. I reached down with my fingers, running them along the tight skin. Sensations heightened but the tautness of the flesh. I ran them over my clit, sending a tremor down to my toes. I fingered it again…the shivers going deeper until I was a shaking mess laying with a arched spine on the bed.
I was in bed and asleep by 11pm. I had a lovely New Years alone, not quite what I’d had planned, but they say the unplanned things are sometimes the best.
I was lounging on the sofa, watching a movies and polishing off the last drops of a bottle of white wine when I was realise it was only 8.30pm and I was bored. My plans for seeing 2009 in with a good friend and a hearty orgasm had been squashed, so I was home alone and slightly pissed.
I got up and walked into my spare room. I use it as a dungeon and all my toys are in there. I switched on the lamps and picked up my medium butt plug, dug several pegs out the box, a ten metre piece of rope and a vibrator.
I took my pants off and I slid onto the well lubed butt plug; it stretched me and filled me making me quiver. Then I took the pegs, one on each nipple, my tight t-shirt holding them firm and pushing them down. Then I spread my legs and clipped the pegs to my moist lips, four on each side. The rope was threaded between my legs holding the butt plug in and looped round the pegs, holding me open. The ends pulled up and wrapped tightly around my torso, clamping my breasts tight.
I sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the butt plug push deeper. I rocked from side to side, feeling the plug massaging me from the inside. The pegs tight on my lips, tugging at me. I reached down with my fingers, running them along the tight skin. Sensations heightened but the tautness of the flesh. I ran them over my clit, sending a tremor down to my toes. I fingered it again…the shivers going deeper until I was a shaking mess laying with a arched spine on the bed.
I was in bed and asleep by 11pm. I had a lovely New Years alone, not quite what I’d had planned, but they say the unplanned things are sometimes the best.
Wednesday, December 31
Happy New Year...
... and general Seasons Greetings!
Is Cane Toad the only one who think my Christmas themed fingernails look like kiwi fruit?
Tuesday, December 23
Mannequin Porn
I work in a rather conservative environment so had to have a chuckle when I was getting a cup of tea the other day and saw a pile of off duty mannequins having a right old time. I was a bit jealous actually...they're getting more action than me.
Tuesday, December 16
Complex
Allow me tell you a tale, followed by a quiz.
There is a man. He's not a bad looking man and he is generally a happy go lucky kinda guy with a comfortable life. Ok, so he's single, but he has at least three f*ck buddies. Life is pretty good.
There is a girl, one of the buddies of the above mentioned man. She fulfils a need in the man, not only cooking him the odd meal and going to stupid movies, but she also dresses in latex and let him watch porn in her lounge. Life is OK for her too.
Now, when these two are making woopy, he can get pretty rough, she doesn't mind that too much. He will penetrate her and she'll get ohh so close to achieving a 'little death' but then he'll withdraw and finish himself manually. This happens everytime he goes in the front, but if he f*cks her arse, he finishes inside.
Now the questions:
Should the girl get a complex?
Does the guy have a problem?
Is the girl over thinking this?
There is a man. He's not a bad looking man and he is generally a happy go lucky kinda guy with a comfortable life. Ok, so he's single, but he has at least three f*ck buddies. Life is pretty good.
There is a girl, one of the buddies of the above mentioned man. She fulfils a need in the man, not only cooking him the odd meal and going to stupid movies, but she also dresses in latex and let him watch porn in her lounge. Life is OK for her too.
Now, when these two are making woopy, he can get pretty rough, she doesn't mind that too much. He will penetrate her and she'll get ohh so close to achieving a 'little death' but then he'll withdraw and finish himself manually. This happens everytime he goes in the front, but if he f*cks her arse, he finishes inside.
Now the questions:
Should the girl get a complex?
Does the guy have a problem?
Is the girl over thinking this?
Monday, December 15
Scent
The scent that comes at you before you even lay a finger on the smooth texture of the fabric, as soon as you open the wardrobe, the draw or the self sealing bag it is kept in. Have you stored it powered, or clean? If it’s powered, a light smell of baby powder with rise to greet you. Johnsons Baby Powder, a distinctive smell all of its own and the vaguely chemical smell mixed with the odour of innocence. If you chose to store in another brand of talc, you may be assailed by a more flowery smell combined with the rubbery scent that makes you weaken. Stored clean, then all you'll get is the over whelming smell of rubber. No talc, no imagined smell of purity.
Latex stored in powder will glide over your fingers when you touch. The hanging items can be freely stroked as your hand touches it, running quickly over the surface, sliding between the layers. Flat folded items, each layer will lie heavy on the other, a hand slid between these folds will feel the weight pressing down. If you chose to store clean, the natural tackiness will result in your fingers skipping over the outer surface, tripping, to get to the next sticky part.
You select a piece or pieces to wear. It may be a top, does it have arms? It may be a pair of trousers, tight or loose or even a skirt, simple A-line with a zip up the front. Will you be wearing gloves too? Each item will require careful donning. These trousers are not denim; you can't just drag them on with wild abandon. This is not a cardigan you can tug at. These are not work gloves with ridges for support. You'll want too dress quickly, but beware. A fingernail out of place may do damage, but only if you have long ones that shine with scarlet polish, if you a boy, then not so much to worry about. But first the talc you used to store with comes in handy. It will help the item flow over your skin, caressing you as it moves. If you stored clean, then talc before pulling on, hair plucked at this point will take away the pleasure of that first kiss of latex. Dress slowly, enjoy the moment. Draw it out and savour the moment as you would a fine wine or delicate morsel. Roll the scent that the stretching and heating releases around on your tongue, taste it as the air around you fills. Breath in deeply as it engulfs you.
If the initial touch of the glassy fabric didn't get into your head, then the freed essence will convince you, again, that this is for you, always.
Latex stored in powder will glide over your fingers when you touch. The hanging items can be freely stroked as your hand touches it, running quickly over the surface, sliding between the layers. Flat folded items, each layer will lie heavy on the other, a hand slid between these folds will feel the weight pressing down. If you chose to store clean, the natural tackiness will result in your fingers skipping over the outer surface, tripping, to get to the next sticky part.
You select a piece or pieces to wear. It may be a top, does it have arms? It may be a pair of trousers, tight or loose or even a skirt, simple A-line with a zip up the front. Will you be wearing gloves too? Each item will require careful donning. These trousers are not denim; you can't just drag them on with wild abandon. This is not a cardigan you can tug at. These are not work gloves with ridges for support. You'll want too dress quickly, but beware. A fingernail out of place may do damage, but only if you have long ones that shine with scarlet polish, if you a boy, then not so much to worry about. But first the talc you used to store with comes in handy. It will help the item flow over your skin, caressing you as it moves. If you stored clean, then talc before pulling on, hair plucked at this point will take away the pleasure of that first kiss of latex. Dress slowly, enjoy the moment. Draw it out and savour the moment as you would a fine wine or delicate morsel. Roll the scent that the stretching and heating releases around on your tongue, taste it as the air around you fills. Breath in deeply as it engulfs you.
If the initial touch of the glassy fabric didn't get into your head, then the freed essence will convince you, again, that this is for you, always.
Poorly Sick
I've been unwell with whooping cough. But I appear to be on the mend now. After all I've got my libido back and I've been thinking about latex ... at lot :-)
I've been reading a bit and have an entry to write about a fascinating book called 'The Sweet Smell of Sex'. It was published in 1969 and has its politically incorrect moments, but I found it a wonder.
I've been reading a bit and have an entry to write about a fascinating book called 'The Sweet Smell of Sex'. It was published in 1969 and has its politically incorrect moments, but I found it a wonder.
Monday, November 17
You deserve it, if you read it.
I collect erotica. I read erotica.
I have a rather large collection of erotic fiction, by both the old masters of the genre such as the Marquis de Sade and Leopold von Sacher-Masoch and the new masters, Alison Tyler, Rachel Kramer Bussel and N. T. Morley (amoungst others).* I also have a lot of non-fiction books about BDSM, sex and various fetishes.
Some of these books have fed fantasy, others a lust for knowledge and some, I just like to own.
So according to the defence team of a man who imprisoned, raped, bashed and abused his partner for seven days, she was asking for it.
We have to address ignorance like this, I just don’t know how too. However, maybe these guys do?
* my opinoin of who are new masters ;-)
I have a rather large collection of erotic fiction, by both the old masters of the genre such as the Marquis de Sade and Leopold von Sacher-Masoch and the new masters, Alison Tyler, Rachel Kramer Bussel and N. T. Morley (amoungst others).* I also have a lot of non-fiction books about BDSM, sex and various fetishes.
Some of these books have fed fantasy, others a lust for knowledge and some, I just like to own.
So according to the defence team of a man who imprisoned, raped, bashed and abused his partner for seven days, she was asking for it.
We have to address ignorance like this, I just don’t know how too. However, maybe these guys do?
* my opinoin of who are new masters ;-)
Tuesday, November 11
New Poll
In light of my recent experiences I thought I put the question you, my humble readers:
Have you ever had an affair?
The response choices are yes, no or it’s complicated.
I’ve put in the first it’s complicated, because technically Mr. Wrong was single when we were developing our relationship, but now she’s back, he’s not now.
Maybe I should just give him his space to make the decision. After all, it’s not even as if we can be anything more than f*ck buddies anyway. Ignor me...I'm thinking out loud.
Have you ever had an affair?
The response choices are yes, no or it’s complicated.
I’ve put in the first it’s complicated, because technically Mr. Wrong was single when we were developing our relationship, but now she’s back, he’s not now.
Maybe I should just give him his space to make the decision. After all, it’s not even as if we can be anything more than f*ck buddies anyway. Ignor me...I'm thinking out loud.
Why Compromise?
I realised something last night…my lust may have developed into a deeper more meaningful connection, for me and me alone.
I can’t expect Mr. Wrong to see my side of things and I don’t really want him too, but something clicked last night about the same time I heard a crack appear in my already brittle heart.
His girlfriend (who left him six months ago) has returned to try and patch things up. He has had that time, living alone and has rather enjoyed it. They were together a long time and he feels that despite his current feelings he should give it a go, plus he’s decided to test her resolve by taking her outback when, judging (my opinion) by photos and stories she’s a bit of a Princess.
Anyway…
Last week I sent him a puzzle book and a book of stamps (for postcards), and as you do when sending gag gifts, I filled in few of the answers. Words that would make him giggle and remember the silly (and erotic) times we had shared. Words like chains, paddle, glove and laughter.
Last night we were speaking on the phone about all sorts of crap (conversations have been limited and further apart since her arrival, understandably) when I asked if he’d had a chance to look at the book.
‘Ohh yeah’, he said, ‘good job she doesn’t get it’.
‘She’s seen them (the filled in words), has she? I asked.
‘Well yeah, and she’s doing some of the puzzles around them.’
This is when I heard the crack. She’s doing the puzzles, in the book I gave him as a gift.
I asked him if she’d asked and he said, ‘yes, I suppose’. I made me feel a bit better thinking, that as partners what’s yours is ours etc… but not much, because he followed it up with, ‘it’s keeping her outta my hair.’ He sounded so sad. The crack got just a little bit wider. I got out the grout and started to patch it up.
I don’t even know her and I don’t like her, she’s messing with him and due to history, he’s making compromises that he hadn’t had to for six months.
I know all relationships are about compromise, by why should it be that way. Sometimes we even change our core values to be with someone. We move house to be together, we surrender our need to have pets and we stop eating the things we enjoy. In some cases, like this one, we share things that are deeply personal to avoid conflict or even, conversation.
I know I have nothing to add to this relationship, except it seems, ways to help pass time and my support to him in any decision he makes about his future.
I can’t expect Mr. Wrong to see my side of things and I don’t really want him too, but something clicked last night about the same time I heard a crack appear in my already brittle heart.
His girlfriend (who left him six months ago) has returned to try and patch things up. He has had that time, living alone and has rather enjoyed it. They were together a long time and he feels that despite his current feelings he should give it a go, plus he’s decided to test her resolve by taking her outback when, judging (my opinion) by photos and stories she’s a bit of a Princess.
Anyway…
Last week I sent him a puzzle book and a book of stamps (for postcards), and as you do when sending gag gifts, I filled in few of the answers. Words that would make him giggle and remember the silly (and erotic) times we had shared. Words like chains, paddle, glove and laughter.
Last night we were speaking on the phone about all sorts of crap (conversations have been limited and further apart since her arrival, understandably) when I asked if he’d had a chance to look at the book.
‘Ohh yeah’, he said, ‘good job she doesn’t get it’.
‘She’s seen them (the filled in words), has she? I asked.
‘Well yeah, and she’s doing some of the puzzles around them.’
This is when I heard the crack. She’s doing the puzzles, in the book I gave him as a gift.
I asked him if she’d asked and he said, ‘yes, I suppose’. I made me feel a bit better thinking, that as partners what’s yours is ours etc… but not much, because he followed it up with, ‘it’s keeping her outta my hair.’ He sounded so sad. The crack got just a little bit wider. I got out the grout and started to patch it up.
I don’t even know her and I don’t like her, she’s messing with him and due to history, he’s making compromises that he hadn’t had to for six months.
I know all relationships are about compromise, by why should it be that way. Sometimes we even change our core values to be with someone. We move house to be together, we surrender our need to have pets and we stop eating the things we enjoy. In some cases, like this one, we share things that are deeply personal to avoid conflict or even, conversation.
I know I have nothing to add to this relationship, except it seems, ways to help pass time and my support to him in any decision he makes about his future.
Thursday, November 6
Bikie Babe
About three hours after the not-boyfriend left my place last Sunday and I was just sitting down to dinner, his name appeared on my ringing mobile phone.
I picked it up and asked, ‘what do want?’ in a sarcastic tone.
A small female voice said, ‘this is Mary*, Bob^ has been in a motorbike accident.’
My heart and stomach hit the floor with a thud. The saliva dried in my mouth and I broke out in a cold sweat.
I asked, and feared the worse, ‘Is he OK?’
I was reassured he was, but neither the less I put my uneaten corn beef and pickle sandwich down, and called a taxi.
I spent the next four and half hours cradling his head and watching as he talked to himself in silence and occasionally let out a ‘fuckin’ hell’ and shook from shock. He had only one injury to speak of, a cut under his chin from the helmet strap that required two stitches. All bruising was invisible. But the hospital did x-rays and a CT when his pupils didn’t dilate, turned out to be concussion. I've been to see him twice this week after work and he's nearly stopped beating himself up about it.
The bike and the car he hit were write-offs.
But the whole thing showed me I do still have a heart and I can still give a damn. My recent playing around has had me doubting. Just because I haven’t fallen head over in heels in love with him, I still care. And frankly the thought that he might be badly injured or worse, dead, filled me with a dread that was almost too much to bear.
*name changed to protect the innocent
^name changed to protect the not so innocent
I picked it up and asked, ‘what do want?’ in a sarcastic tone.
A small female voice said, ‘this is Mary*, Bob^ has been in a motorbike accident.’
My heart and stomach hit the floor with a thud. The saliva dried in my mouth and I broke out in a cold sweat.
I asked, and feared the worse, ‘Is he OK?’
I was reassured he was, but neither the less I put my uneaten corn beef and pickle sandwich down, and called a taxi.
I spent the next four and half hours cradling his head and watching as he talked to himself in silence and occasionally let out a ‘fuckin’ hell’ and shook from shock. He had only one injury to speak of, a cut under his chin from the helmet strap that required two stitches. All bruising was invisible. But the hospital did x-rays and a CT when his pupils didn’t dilate, turned out to be concussion. I've been to see him twice this week after work and he's nearly stopped beating himself up about it.
The bike and the car he hit were write-offs.
But the whole thing showed me I do still have a heart and I can still give a damn. My recent playing around has had me doubting. Just because I haven’t fallen head over in heels in love with him, I still care. And frankly the thought that he might be badly injured or worse, dead, filled me with a dread that was almost too much to bear.
*name changed to protect the innocent
^name changed to protect the not so innocent
Saturday, November 1
Announcement
What’s a girl to do after nearly five months of not working due to family issues and a crappy job market?
Go Pro Domme of course.
Go Pro Domme of course.
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