Part 1:

Bridge traffic wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. He found himself zipping along on the freeway heading home. He thought about her voice. How sometimes she sounded so sweet, even if she was saying something mean. Or then she could sound so mean while saying something so sweet. Just the sound of her made him hard. There really was nothing common about her. He felt lucky to belong to someone so creative and complex, someone who knew him inside out, maybe even better than he knew himself. Someone who truly wanted to make him happy, help him feel comfortable with all his sides, fulfill his fantasies. She was scary and smart which made her sexy as hell. Fuck, he missed her so much even though he’d just seen her this morning.

He parked his car and walked to the front door. All the dogs were barking inside the house. He wasn’t sure if they knew he was home or if she was up to something. “Please be up to something,” he thought to himself. He needed to feel vulnerable, to let out some of the day’s stress through serving her. It was weird how she seemed to know what he needed without asking. He turned his key in the lock and pushed the door open, the cool air from the A/C tingling on his skin.

“Honey?” he called to her. All three dogs were at his feet, wagging their tails, so excited that he was home. They were a strange group, those three. One giant horse of a dog, one dopey dork of a dog and one tiny wiener dog, trying not to get stepped on. “Hi guys,” he said and gave them all pets. “Honey, are you home?” He glanced around the living room but she wasn’t there. He could smell her perfume though so she must be here somewhere.

He sat on the couch and took off his work boots and socks. Reaching under the coffee table, he grabbed a pair of white patent leather mary jane pumps and slipped them on to his tired feet. This was his nightly ritual, the one that separated his outside life from his inside life. He immediately felt relaxed. Then he saw the note. It was on the coffee table, her swirly girlie handwriting he would recognize anywhere.

The note read:

Welcome home, Love. I missed you so much today. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, climbing around some giant elevator shaft, hauling heavy things up a ladder. It took everything I had to not jump in the bed with the magic wand. I wanted to save those orgasms for you so I resisted. Now that you’re home though, it’s on.

I want you to go to the hallway closet. I left you a present. Put it on and come join me in the bedroom. I’ll be there waiting for you.

I love you,

Allix

And he was hard. It never took much when she was involved. He adjusted himself and stood, walking slowly to the closet door. The click clack of his heels on the wood floor was one of his favorite sounds. He swung his hips a little to change the pacing. He sounded like a street walking slut. And now he was dripping.

He opened the closet door and hanging on a hanger was a beautiful sissy maid dress. He’d never seen it before. She was definitely sneaky and so good at surprises. It was shiny white satin with pink trim. It had tight sleeves with small puffs at the shoulders. A zipper ran the length of the back. He removed it from the hanger and noticed the inside was pink satin. It had a T embroidered on the stiff collar. Also hanging on the hanger was a small bag containing white silk stockings and a tube of shiny pink lip gloss.

He made his way back to the couch to change. Rolling the stockings up to his thighs, making sure the seams were straight in the back and then stepping into the dress. It was tight. Like it had been made to his exact measurements. Maybe form fitting was a better word. The high ruffle collar grazed against his chin. The skirt was very short. “A slut like you needs to show the goods,” he could hear her saying in his head. He looked down and his cock, hard and dripping was just showing out from under the skirt. “Good girl,” he thought to himself and giggled. He took the lip gloss and went to the bathroom to put it on. It matched the pink trim of the dress perfectly. How did she do this stuff? He smiled to himself, feeling loved.

He looked in the mirror, made a few adjustments to his dress and stockings, smiled like a pretty girl and tried to mentally prepare for whatever she had planned. He never knew what was going to happen. Just that he would feel pain and pleasure. Sometimes he couldn’t really tell the difference. “Ok, good to go,” he said quietly and headed for the bedroom.

He pushed the door open slowly and saw her immediately. She was standing with her back to him, looking out the bedroom window. She was wearing a short black robe and thigh high leather boots. Her hair was piled up on her head. That was a sure sign she was serious and he was in for it. “Kneel by the bed, slut. Eyes down,” she said without even turning around. He did as he was told and went to the side of the bed. He kneeled down, making sure his dress was straight and waited.

He didn’t even have time to wonder what would happen before he felt two hands on his shoulders from behind. He glanced at the hands, pretty red nails, maybe a little bit manly. Then he felt the hard cock press into his back. There was no doubt this was another gurl. Another sissy with a very big cock. He licked his lips unconsciously.

She spun on her heels to look at them. “This is my new friend Sophie,” she said. “She’s here to fuck you.” Then she smiled at him, in that way, the way he knew meant she was excited by her plans. “Put your hands behind your back, baby.” He did as he was told and felt the cold metal of the cuffs engulf his wrists. There were a few clicking noises and he was handcuffed, then the cuffs were connected to a chain connected to the floor. Who was this Sophie person, immobilizing him?? He wanted to see her so badly.

“Come here,” she motioned to Sophie. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her come from behind and walk towards Allix. Sophie had thick dark auburn hair and very long legs. She was wearing the same dress as he was but hers was purple satin with black trim. Still with the same very short skirt, he could see her hard cock hanging down between her legs. He started to panic. This was going to happen.

Like she could read his mind, she said, “Yes, baby, this is really happening. You are going to learn to suck cock today like a proper slut.” Then she pulled Sophie to her and they started kissing. He watched them, wishing it was him kissing her. Sophie’s hands were inside her robe, stroking her skin, making her purr. Who was this person touching his mistress? He tried to stay calm but all he could do was stare at them. The sight of Sophie’s giant hard cock made his mouth water. He pulled at his cuffs just to check. Yes, he was in fact locked to the floor, unable to stand, unable to get away. Then he laughed to himself because he knew he wouldn’t try to get away even if he could. This was where he belonged, on his knees, waiting for a stranger’s cock.

“I told Sophie she can cum as many times as she’d like as long as they all happen in you,” she was looking at him over Sophie’s shoulder, smiling that evil glinty smile. “I hope you’re up to the task, babydoll. Sophie has been hands off for a month now, just waiting for today. I know she’s dying to cum. Aren’t you, girl?”

Sophie whispered quietly, “Yes please, Miss. I want to cum so badly.  I want to please you.” Allix smiled and gave her another deep kiss. “You’re a good girl.” A pang  of jealousy stabbed through his heart. Then she took Sophie’s hand and they both walked towards him. The closer they got, the bigger Sophie’s cock seemed. His own cock was hard and wet. That familiar feeling starting in the pit of his stomach. His mouth watered and his heart raced. Finally, a real cock. And from such a pretty girl. She really was beautiful. Smooth pale skin, long red hair, black seamed stockings, that monster cock. He wanted to choke on it until his eyes watered. He couldn’t even deny it.

They both stood in front of him. He could see now that his mistress was naked under her robe except for a pair of black panties. There was an obvious wetness to them. He wanted to lick her. “Isn’t she pretty?” she asked him sternly. “Yes, Miss, she is beautiful.” And then quickly, “but not as beautiful as you!” She flashed him that smile and he knew he was a good girl too. His cock started throbbing and jumping around on its own.

“Introduce yourself, slut.” He looked up at Sophie. It was hard to see anything but her cock, right at his eye level, but he managed to glance upwards enough to see her face. She was so pretty! Small fine features, big blue eyes, luscious red lips that matched her nails. He cleared his throat and said, “My name is Trina. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss.” Sophie smiled at him and said, “the pleasure is mine,” and glanced at Allix. “All hers,” Allix added with a laugh. “Well, mine too.  I will cum and Sophie will cum but you, Trina, you will not.” She liked being mean.

She stepped forward and shoved her fingers into his mouth. He started sucking instinctually. She stroked his tongue, looking him in the eyes. “You’re a dirty girl,” she said. He felt his face flush with heat. “Tell me what you want, slut.” He looked from her face to Sophie’s face and back again. The shame was exciting. “I….I want to suck her cock, Miss.” His voice sounded strange to him, shaky, higher pitched.

“What else?” she snapped. She started stroking Sophie’s cock, spreading the shiny pre-cum down the shaft. Sophie let out a low moan and leaned into her strokes. “What else??” she demanded. “I want to swallow her cum,” he blurted out, ashamed, but his hard cock said otherwise. “Ask for permission, bitch,” she seethed. “Please, may I suck her beautiful cock and swallow every drop of her cum?”

She knelt down to look him in the eye. “This has been a long time coming.” “Yes, Miss,” he mumbled. He was licking his lips, trying to control the drool. The lip gloss tasted sweet like vanilla. “Beg for it,” she said, laughing. “Please please?” he pleaded with her. He wanted to know what a real cock tasted like. He had waited for so long. “Ask me correctly, slut!” He tried to concentrate on his words but his cock and his heart were both throbbing. “Please?  Please teach me to suck cock like you. I want to taste her cum. Please, my queen?”

"Whats a girl gotta do to get a slave in this town? Is it asking too much to ask to own someone who can rub my feet, draw me a bath, fuck me like a beast, and then shut the fuck up?"~~stolen from Mistress Darling Nikki

I consider myself pretty open minded. But there are a few things that I think are just wrong and should not be tolerated. If you are interested in or have been involved with any kind of dog play (being sexually involved with dogs, not puppy role play), don't contact me. And consider getting some help.

In need of a handy man carpenter to fix my wood bed frame. I have the replacement slat. Just need someone big and strong who can handle a kind sized solid wood bed. If you don't know what you're doing, don't bother me. This is not an invitation to play. You'd fix my bed and perhaps a few other things and THAT IS IT. 

Can someone explain to me why a total stranger who has never met me and never will sends an insulting first email based purely in their own fictional mind? Are they thinking this will get them a mistress? I seriously wonder about some people around here. 

Having mail issues. The minions are working on it. 

Feeling more open to dinner dates right now. Maybe one of you will finally be the one who doesn't disappoint me. A girl can dream.

Ok, people, I can't be any clearer than this: I DO NOT DO CASUAL HOOK-UPS. I'm not for hire. I'm not here so you can live your pathetic fantasies on YIM. I am an actual living, breathing lady who requires respect. Try asking me on a date like a normal person would. 

i know i'm amazing and all, but i still can't use you if you don't live in LA. my magic isn't that strong.

does no one here know how to treat a lady anymore? 

whip lash should really be way more fun than it is with a name like that. 

so, i was in a car accident yesterday which didn't seem that bad at the time, but today i'm in pain. if i don't answer your email in any kind of a timely manner, that's why. 

if your email starts with "i want..." just delete it and save me the time.

emails i will delete on sight:

1. hello, ma'am

2. u r hawt

3. dominate me!

4. i want to lick your pussy for hours.

5. nice shoes

any the ever popular,

6. hey!

thank you, 

the management

i'm sad to report my computer has died a sad and tragic death. send email if you need me. i'll be checking as often as i can until i figure out how to miraculously get a new computer.

i had considered for a second making a list of the fake, lying submissives i've run into around here, then it occurred to me that there wasn't enough room on the entire internet for that.

show proper respect when you write to me and use complete sentences. if you can't even manage those two minor things, you certainly aren't worthy of serving me.

d/s relationships for me are more than just d/s. they also involve a relationship. i know, it's a hard concept for most people. do i want to meet a bunch of subs and do things to their bodies? maybe. but not until i feel a connection to that person. and that takes time, courting, acting like a human being who understands d/s but also has other things to offer me. so, treat me like any other woman you are interested in. get to know me. take me to dinner. i'm a lady and expect to be treated as such. there are no short cuts. no skip to the play time magic tricks. if you want that, hire a pro domme.

ok, best email in a long time. subject matter is me, of course:

Spoken like a true Domme! I love it! :)  You clearly understand what many do not, that the way a Domme uses language can be so powerful... the matter of fact tone... knowing that it will be followed... so much more erotic and compelling that outright screaming and abuse.

anyone want to fund my education? i'm itching to go back to school for psychology. free kinky counseling included *tempt*

ok, seriously? this guy emails me "for his wife" who is looking for a domme for herself, and would i go chat with her on yahoo? pretty please? *just shakes her head*

walking slowly, taking in everything he could, aaron wandered across the ponte santa trinita to the oltrarno district of florence. this was where the real florentines lived; the butchers, the bakers, the candlestick makers. and one very exclusive dominatrix.

she lived above a busy cafe, on a tiny piazza. the hustle and bustle downstairs of people talking and espresso machines firing up did very little to cover the screams from upstairs. but really, her true business was known by everyone anyway.

the men would sit in the afternoon, drinking espresso and rating the agonizing moans that echoed through the square. some wished it could be them moaning. others just stayed for the entertainment. sometimes, they would place bets after seeing her latest client head up the stairs. “he will cry, 5 minuti, maximo” paolo would say. “no, no, no,” enrique would answer,” he is strong!. at least 30 minuti, i think.” they would throw their wagers onto the table to wait. most of the time paolo was right.

aaron was nervous, but not worried at all. he was so excited he could hardly catch his breath. he had the address memorized: 54 via del campuccio. he repeated it over and over again to himself, puckering his lips dramatically every time he’d say “puccio”. it was a fun word to say. it made him less nervous to concentrate on italian pronunciation.

he turned left on via san spirito and took a quick right onto via del campuccio. bright orange pyramids of tiny mandarino oranges balanced next to small baskets of wild strawberries on the fruit cart in the center of the square. the fragrance from the fruit was heavy in the air. the whoosh of the espresso machine blasted off every few seconds from inside the cafe.

aaron looked towards the noise and noticed the address number 54 up above the cafe door. “54 via del campuccio,” he whispered, his heart jumping. the old men pointed to the small winding staircase to the left without breaking their conversation. “grazie?” aaron mumbled.

did they know why he was there? did they know his big secret? embarrassed and quite frankly, amazed, he climbed the stairs, ducking under the ivy that was draped around the walls. you would never notice this staircase, unless you knew it was there. he stopped at the top landing and took a deep breath.

“campuccio…camPUCCIo.” he was trying to slow his heart beat down to mildly hysterical. it would not be good to die on signora valentina’s doorstep. he had come so far, it really would be a shame. he knocked on the door with five quick raps of his knuckles. “andiamo,” he thought. there was no turning back now.

after a few seconds, the big heavy wood door swung open revealing a classic florentine flat, both rustic and opulent at the same time with wooden beams and murano glass chandaliers hanging from the frescoed ceiling.

the suspension equipment laced through the beams caught aaron’s eye immediately. the black metal eye hooks looked like they had been there since the renaissance. the rope was hand woven in an uneven braid. “that must really scratch the hell out of your skin,” he thought. “medieval rope burns could be fun.”

the large man who had opened the door cleared his throat loudly. he was dressed as an executioner, complete with face mask and leather gauntlets. he was taller than aaron by a good 5 inches and built like a refridgerator. aaron was by no means a small guy, but this man was huge and towered over him without even trying.

“the mistress will be with you when she is ready,” his voice deep and forceful but not angry. “you can call me roman. i belong to valentina. i am here to assist her in all ways.” he held his hand out to shake aaron’s.

“nice to meet you, roman,” aaron shook the huge hand, thinking his looked like a child’s hand in comparison. “i’m aaron,” he said.

“i know,” roman said and chuckled. “valentina let me read your file,” roman smiled widely.

“i have a file?” aaron asked.

“we know everything you need us to know, aaron.” roman answered mysteriously.

“what the hell is in that file?” aaron was worried for the first time.

“all your secrets,” roman answered non-chalantly.

“oh, good..that’s just good, perfect,” aaron stammered not meaning one word.

“let’s get started then,” roman said and grabbed aaron by the arm. roman’s fist encircled aaron’s arm as he moved aaron across the room and up against the wall. “strip,” roman said loudly and grabbed a pile of ropes from the table.

aaron looked around, noticing for the first time the whips and paddles artfully arranged on the wall. they were hung like paintings, every one in it’s place, all perfectly organized by color, no two colors clashing, all harmonious hues.

“the mistress is an artist,” roman says, unwinding the rope onto the floor. “now come on. don’t make me repeat myself.”

aaron backed up against the wall and started to unbutton his shirt. one button at a time, he looked around nervously, not sure what to expect. he pulled his arms out of his shirt and tossed it onto the table. the skin on aaron’s shoulders trembled from the cold cement wall. next came his pants. he folded them neatly from habit and put them down next to his shirt. he was standing there in his socks and underwear, stalling.

“you can keep the socks, if you really want but these are going,” roman says and grabs aaron’s jockeys by the side panel. with one fast hard movement, roman yanks the underwear down and off, the elastic waistband snapping against aaron’s thigh. “ouch!” aaron jumped from the sting instinctively covering his dick with his hands.

“you better hope she breaks you in slow,” roman laughed deeply again. aaron moved his hands away from his prized possession and put his arms to his sides.

“i can handle it,” he said boastfully, trying to regain some of his pride.

“good. the mistress likes the stoic ones.”

with that, roman took aaron by the hands and started wrapping the rope in tight circles around his wrists. the texture of the hand made rope was indeed very scratchy. aaron could feel the raw burning starting already. roman tied a fancy knot that aaron had never seen before and used the pullies to raise aaron’s arms up high above his head. roman pulled the ropes. aaron’s arms stretched out longer and longer. soon, aaron was standing on his toes, trying to balance his body weight. he was swaying awkwardly, his soft dick flopping around, smacking his thighs. roman paid no attention and kept raising aaron’s body up off the floor by his wrists.

“i..i.. thought you aren’t supposed to… hang someone up… by their wrists,” aaron squeaked, the tiny bones in his hands threatening to snap.

“you talk a lot,” roman said and shoved a footstool under aaron’s feet. “you sure you want those socks now? you get a better grip in bare feet,” roman said knowingly.

aaron slide his socks off of his feet with his toes, tossing them to the side and standing straight up on the footstool. it was red velvet with tiny carved ebony cat paws for feet. aaron squished the plush fibers between his toes and grinned.

“don’t get too comfortable there,” roman said seriously and pulled the ropes just a little tighter. aaron’s leg muscles strained as the ropes suspended him off the footstool. if he pointed his toes like a ballerina he could just touch the velvet cushion.

“try to keep your balance. it hurts less if you don’t swing around.”

“um, thanks, roman,” aaron answered unsuredly, feeling his wrists throbbing already.

“as they say in italia, buona fortuna, mi amico.” with that, roman picked up aaron’s clothing and took a look around the room to make sure everything was ready. he opened a few windows to let the breeze in. and to let aaron’s noises out. the whole piazza would be involved now. aaron felt his skin flush red at the thought of all those people hearing him. those old men, playing cards in the square, listening to him moan and whimper. could it be any more humiliating? “don’t answer that,” aaron thought to himself.

he watched roman lumber down the long marble hallway, his boots thumping loudly on the floor with each step. the glass chandaliers rattled ever so slightly as he walked. some movement caught aaron’s eye and he glanced over towards the windows.

the breeze was blowing the curtains open. they billowed up towards the ceiling enough for aaron to see across the square into the other palazzo. the building across the square was a carbon copy of signora valentina’s. it also had a bank of floor to ceiling windows. through the wavy glass panes, aaron could just make out a small group of people. they all had easels and paint brushes.

“what are they painting?” he thought, squinting his eyes for better focus. the sheer curtains floated back down against the windows and the painting class was gone again behind the misty fabric.

aaron’s arms were starting to ache. he knew his thigh muscles would be quivering along any minute now. he tried to grasp the velvet between his toes. a sharp shooting pain stabbed into the soul of his foot making him bite his tongue from the cramp. he could taste the blood.

“great, i’m topping myself,” aaron said outloud without realizing it, his body swaying harder now, pulling his wrists apart. aaron looked down at himself. his limp dick just laying there against his leg. nervous adrenaline spiked through his veins, the tingling in his skin almost too uncomfortable to still be good.

the sound of a women’s high heels on the marble floor brought him back to reality, his dick waking just a tiny bit in response to the sexy click clack. his pulse quickened as the sound came walking up behind him. he could smell her perfume, spicy and warm.

the mistress grabbed aaron by the butt, digging her fingernails into the flesh of his ass cheek. aaron flinched but said nothing. the mistress ran her nails over the small of his back and down between his legs, cupping his balls in her small hand.

this time “ohh ohh,” slipped out of his mouth loudly. he could feel her hot breath on his back and her fingers gently massaging his balls from behind.

“i have a gift for you,” her voice was soft and sweet, unexpectedly sweet. “now close your eyes,” she ran her nails up the shaft of aaron’s dick, teasing it into life. aaron closed his eyes tight like a five year old little boy waiting for his birthday surprise.

he felt leather straps and cold metal on and around his dick. he could hear the mistress fiddling with the buckles, her fingernails too long to be efficient with this task.

“roman,” she says politely, “help please.”

even with his eyes closed, aaron could hear the chandaliers start to rattle. then the huge boot foot steps on the marble and roman’s hands on aaron’s dick, pulling it over, tucking it in, buckling it all up and “there you go, signora,” roman says pleasantly and leaves the room again.

“you can open your eyes, aaron,” valentina says in his ear. aaron opens his eyes and looks down at his dick. he is pushed into a small baseball sized cage, dick and balls both. his dick is curled awkwardly around itself in it’s prison. the chastity cage is strapped to aaron’s body with leather ties that roman has tightened as much as possible to prevent any kind of escape.

aaron’s dick stiffens at the sight. this in turn presses his hard cock against the metal cage. a slow ache starts deep in his balls, rising up through his stomach.

the mistress runs her nails along the waist straps causing aaron’s stomach to jump. she drags them down around the side of his hip. then suddenly, there she is, standing right in front of him.

aaron tries to take a photographic memory of mistress valentina. he knew this would be jack off material for years to come and didn’t want to miss one single detail. she was short. shorter than he had expected. maybe 5 ft 2 inches in her high heels. she had long black curly hair, pilled up in a sexy mess on top of her head, a heart shaped face, ruby red lips. her body was voluptuous and curvy, round in all the right places.

aaron looked at her from top to bottom, drinking her in. stopping and gawking openly when he got to her legs. she had dancer’s legs. curved like a stallion’s in her black patent leather shoes.

“you have beautiful legs, mistress,” aaron said staring at her.

“grazie, bambino,” she smiled at him, looking him directly in the eyes. aaron stared at her. she had golden eyes, ringed like the inside of a red wood tree. her eyes held many years worth of stories in their rings. aaron was ecstatic to be one of them.

she continued around in front of him, walking slowly across the room. she was wearing back seamed stockings. aaron watched them walk away. when she got to the bank of windows, she pushed the light weight curtain aside and gazed out the window at the painting class across the piazza. the sunlight streamed through the window, silhouetting her figure.

“i see the class is in session today,” the mistress said. she placed a long red fingernail against her lips absent mindedly. aaron’s dick hardened, twisting itself painfully. her lips looked so soft and wet.

“i think we shall give them some inspiration,” the mistress said happily, pulling back the curtains one at a time, securing them open on jeweled hooks.

suddenly with all the curtains open, the sunlight filled the room, temporarily blinding aaron like a flash bulb. he blinked his eyes a few times, waiting for his pupils to adjust. soon things were coming into focus.

there was the mistress, hands on her hips, speaking italian incredibly fast out the window to the class. there were the windows themselves, an entire wall of windows and finally just beyond the window glass, aaron was starting to make out the class room across the square. and the people in it. they were all facing aaron now, easels in place, looking from him to the canvas and back again, painting. painting aaron as he hung from the rafters, wearing nothing but a cock cage, his dick folded, his body stretched. he even saw one lady holding her thumb up to get the correct perspective of aaron. aaron and his cock cage. he was on display. for the painting class. and for the mistress.

“you don’t mind, do you?’ she asked aaron as if his answer even mattered. the public humiliation was making him sweat. the pain in his dick was making him cringe with every pulse. he tried to shift his weight from one foot to the other, but both feet were cramping now and there was no relief to be had.

he tried to over-ride the pain signals in his brain by focusing all of his attention on the mistress. she was leaning up against the wall opposite aaron, her black lace dress a stark contrast to the tuscan yellow paint of the wall behind her. aaron could see her. she could see aaron. the class could see aaron. but the class could not see her. she was standing in the perfect place to be seen only by aaron.

the thought of her being all his made the blood rush to aaron’s hard-on. his cock reached critical mass in it’s prison, his balls pulling up close to his body, getting ready. aaron yelped like a dog, letting the people of the square in on his progress. this was really becoming a group activity. aaron was mortified.

valentina was looking him in the eyes. he had no choice but to look back. she placed her hands on her thighs and smiled at him. “would you like to look?” she asked him, her voice getting a little lower.

“yes,” aaron answered quickly, not caring what it was he was going to get to look at.

she pushed her dress up over her thighs to her waist, giving aaron a very clear view of her pussy. only the tiniest of patches remained right at the top of her pussy lips, shaped like a heart. it was almost too much for aaron. his dick pulsed hard against the metal bars between his legs. the pain was disorienting.

aaron swung forward off the footstool, losing his footing and knocking it over on it’s side. his full weight yanked down on his wrists and shoulders, pulling his rotator cuff muscles almost out of their sockets. aaron screamed out in pain, his feet swinging freely now above the marble floor. “my shoulder….”he started to whimper.

the mistress watched aaron sway for a few seconds, licking her fingers, one at a time in long strokes. “wet is always better,” she said, the distraction working. aaron was watching her tongue sweep up and down her white skin. her finger and it’s red nail sliding in and out of her mouth, her lips wrapped tightly.
aaron could see her index finger shiny with saliva, his own mouth starting to water.

the mistress leaned back against the wall, tilting her hips forward slightly. she stroked her wet finger down her breast to her bellybutton. circling her bellybutton with her fingernail. it tickles and she makes herself laugh.

with one movement, she slides her finger inside her pussy. her giggle turns to a deep moan. the mistress pumps her hand in and out of her pussy, closing her eyes, her breathing changing fast.

aaron hangs from his rafter, watching the mistress pleasure herself, not caring one bit if his shoulders are dislocated. the sight of her, writhing, was torture for aaron. he wanted to be the one inside of her. he wanted to pleasure the mistress. he just wanted to touch her. any part of her.

his body started to fuck the air in front of him. he had no control over his actions. his dick would thrust forward, pulling his wrists against the coarse rope, wanting to feel her surrounding him. he imagined his cock slamming against her, her juices running.

“oh, let me mistress…” he pleaded. valentina stopped finger fucking herself, pulling her fingers from her swollen pussy and taking a few deep breaths.

“let you what, mio bambino?” she asked sweetly, walking across the room towards aaron. she stood in front of him, looking up into his eyes.

“is this what you want, baby?” she asked and put her wet fingers to his mouth.

aaron could smell her pussy on her fingers. aaron parted his lips and the mistress slid her fingers into his waiting mouth. his tongue felt warm and soft on her finger tips. she moaned a little at the sensation.

aaron sucked her fingers gently until she told him to stop. “you are a good boy, aaron. i want to give you something very special. i don’t usually do this…” she looked him in the eyes and stroked his cock in it’s cage. “i want you to fuck me, aaron.”

valentina never broke eye contact. aaron wasn’t sure he understood. that wasn’t usually something subs get to do, especially on a first date. “do you mean…?” his voice trailed off.

“i don’t say anything i don’t mean , aaron,” she said very seriously. “if you think you can handle it,” she smiled at him sideways, teasing him.

“roman!” she called out. aaron’s head was spinning with the thought of fucking mistress valentina. she was so beautiful, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

roman showed up quickly and knelt on the floor at valentina’s feet. “yes, mistress?”

“i want him down,” she said motioning towards aaron. “i am going to allow aaron to fuck me,” she said grinning at roman.

“yes, ma’am,” he answered, quickly untying aaron’s binds and lowering him slowly to the floor.

aaron’s arms felt like overcooked spaghetti. they tingled at first as the blood rushed back, but then it felt like needles. many needles stabbing his arms and hands and fingers. he gasped and missed a breath from all the pain. roman held him by the shoulders for a minute, steadying aaron as he got his sea legs back.

“you better pull it together,” he said to aaron. “you do not want to disappoint the mistress.”

“no, i don’t,” aaron answered softly. he tried to take a step forward but the chastity belt and cage where bulky and in the way of his walking. “is this thing coming off?” aaron asked roman, hooking his finger around the cage and shaking it.

“it would be pretty hard to fuck the mistress without a cock, right?” roman looked at aaron like he was an idiot and laughed. “the mistress has the keys. she will decide when it comes off.”

roman turned to valentina and said “what else can i do for you, mistress?”

“would you like to stay and watch?” she asked roman.

“oh, yes, please ma’am, i would love to watch you.”

“to the corner, roman,” valentina said and pointed to a large leather chair.

roman obeyed quickly, moving across the room, taking up his position as observer.

so, you know what really catches the eye of a mistress like me? sending a totally vague, uninteresting, one line email then waiting less than 24 hours later to send a whining, complaining, insulting email about how rude i am for not answering the previous email yet. did i keep you waiting, vermin? get used to it.

house rules:
1. you will wear no clothing in the house.
2. the correct response to most things is "yes, miss".
3. when being spanked for being naughty, count.
4. never be ashamed of getting hard.
5. always say please and thank you.
6. ask for permission before you cum.
7. swallow every single drop.
8. remember who you belong to.
9. the proper position is on your knees.
10. worship my pussy.
11. beg for it.
12. earn your reward.
13. do as i say.
14. your ass is mine.
15. make mistress proud.
16. collar at all times.
17. bare your soul to me.
18. eyes down, chin up.

ok, boys and girls, let's recap here for a minute. there are zillions of submissives out there (both real and only in their heads). i do not need yet another do-me sub who thinks playing is my only objective here. i have enough toys, both human and otherwise. i'm looking for more. be different. work on catching my attention. and work hard. the lazy need not apply.

http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/8325689/the-meeting

not interested!

heading back to LA. should be around sometime in the next week or so.

i'm not around on CM much anymore. come find me on FL.    my name there is hot2matoSir.

ok, enough with the life drama. i need to have some fun.

back to the grind. next time i fall off the planet for 2 weeks, it better be because i'm on vacation.

working my way back towards the living.

he's gone. love you, daddy.

i just wanted to thank everyone for their so sweet emails of support. you all make me feel like i will have a life after this nightmare ends.

cedar sinai is being gracious enough to allow my dad to stay til the end. so kind of them *growls* my sister is taking the night shift. going back in the AM.

team larry update: i've been at the hospital since monday night, kicking doctor asses and taking names. my dad is in pain but they finally got the chronic hiccups (7 DAYS!) under control last night so he is a bit more comfortable. the plan is to take him home monday and do hospice here. he is feeling very loved and ready to "finish this project". strongest man i know.

surreal moment of the day: this actually has to do with bdsm! so, my parents had some very open minded friends when i was a kid. i saw a lot of things i probably shouldn't have. my mom had a costume birthday party when i was about 12. they had this friend named betty. she showed up dressed in the owl costume from "the story of O". for the three of you around here who haven't read the book, O, the slave, is taken to a fancy party dressed in only a collar, a chain leash, and a very ornate owl mask made of feathers. otherwise, naked as a jay bird. this is how betty dressed for my mom's birthday party in 1979.

i had no idea what it meant other than that my parents were not like my friend's parents, until college when i read the book and it all suddenly made sense. betty was a slave. she was owned by this tycoon named henry. he had 5 slaves (one for each night of the week) and they rotated weekends. betty was his tuesday night. she was a stunner btw. she looked like a brunette marilyn monroe. that face, that body, jane russel's hair. this was a revelation. and explains a lot about why i am how i am. looks innocent

so there i am tonight, hanging with my dad (i made him drink some soup!! you have no idea the ordeal for 2 sips of soup) and in the door comes betty. she's 30 years older than the last time i saw her, but i would have recognized her anywhere. same face with some extra wrinkles, same exact hair cut, same truly sincere smile, annnd a fanny pack. with "what would jesus do?" embroidered on it. i almost don't even have any words for that.

they finally got my dad on some real drugs to control (??) some of his pain. my sister and i have been at the hospital non-stop. when i left just now to come home to try and sleep a little, i wasn't quite sure he'd still be alive when i came back in the morning. this is harder than i thought it would be considering i've been through it already with my mom. couldn't have been any more wrong. feels like my spine is being torn out through my chest.

i'll be out of the loop for the next few weeks. it's crunch time with my dad. today he was in so much pain it was very hard for me to remain calm. i even tried to channel my inner mistress but it didn't work at all. so, pardon my absence and be patient when waiting for email responses, etc. and go tell the people you love how much you love them. that's an order.

yay, i have the plague on top of everything else.

what is the point anymore?  

so, today has just sucked. my dad has gone into phase 2 of dying, as he calls it. he's in enormous pain and now on morphine. the end is nearer than i had hoped. we are setting up hospice next door at my sister's.

then there is my ex and the divorce. the courts are believing all his lies and pretty much, i can't do a damn thing about it. if i had another $20k, i'd hire a whole new attorney and start from the beginning. but of course, i don't even have $20 bucks more or less $20k. and my lawyer who started out as a viper has turned into a lamb and seems to feel like doing nothing is the only option she has left. i hate lawyers and their lies. both of them are doing great while i struggle every day just to get through the next hour.

blah blah blah. it's all so depressing. i'm tired. i'm sick. i feel powerless. i need luvs. that is all.

off to domcon for the weekend. see a whole bunch of you there and at the sanctuary parties.

grand opening of sanctuary lax tonight. half excited, half still in shock that john is gone. come out and support the new team.

i keep seeing this femme domme ad along side here on cm that says "don't hate yourself, that's her job". it bugs the hell out of me. i'm not interested in hating anyone. that's far too much work for me to do optionally. just because my dominance is about caring and love doesn't mean i won't beat you til you cry and then use your tears as lube. i'm not interested in anyone that needs to feel hated to serve.

she lives! i'm taking the day off from family obligations and coming out to BOD tonight. come say hi.

much of your pain is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. - kahlil gibran

statistically, there must be one sub around here who means what they say, right?

i'm back and swamped with email. be patient, i'm working my way through them all.

my sister and her weddings are upon us. out of town for a week or so.

out of town for the week. call my cell if you need me.

i feel like i did 30,000 sit ups and hauled an 8 ton elephant around for a few hours yesterday. basically, everything between my shoulders and my knees hurts. otherwise, i'm just peachy!

dealing with some medical drama. be back in a week or so.

heart shaped welt

i am sitting on the roof terrace of the hotel tornabuoni beacci in florence. the rusty red sun sets over piazza michelangelo up on the hill. the air is crisp, and i can smell the roasting chestnuts. the details are so tangible to me,  it is hard to believe i am dreaming. it surprises me quite a lot, in fact, when i finally open my eyes and see him standing at the end of my bed, looking down at me.  i am yanked through space back to my bedroom. the sun  streaming like fingers through the lace curtains, lighting him up from behind like an angel. i blink my eyes a few times trying to adjust.
“good morning, miss” he is coming into focus. i inspect him from head to toe out of sheer habit. his uniform looks pressed, shoes are shined. he is smiling at me like a happy morning person.
“you’ll pay for that, troy,” i grump.
“i hope so,” he answers like a good boy which makes me smile despite myself. i sit up in the bed, leaning back against the red velvet headboard. luigi strolls lazily up next to me, still half asleep, and curls up in the usual donut position. i pat him on the head and look up at troy. he is holding a silver tray with a coffee pot, matching cream and sugar, and a bowl of strawberries.
“put that over there,” i point at the small table to his left “put you over here.” i point next to the bed. he does as he’s told and returns to my side promptly. “please put my hair up for me, baby,” i throw my long black curls over my shoulder to get them out of my eyes. troy moves to the night stand and opens the red lacquer box that sits on top. inside it is filled with hair clips of every kind. he fumbles through the collection looking for the right one. i watch him like a hawk. he touches them each gently, turning them over in his palm. “what are you thinking, baby?”
“i like to think about the last time i put each of them in your hair. and what you did to me after you took it out of your hair. i can tell you are serious when you take down your hair in one fell swoop.” he is fondling a chinese hair stick, long like a pencil, silver with 3 red rubies on the end. the opposite end is filed to a sharp point. he’s giving me his best poker face, but his smiling glittery eyes give him away.
“that one, please,” i say. his hands are shaking just the slightest bit. he walks to the side of the bed and waits for permission to touch me. i stroke his cock through his satin skirt with my long fingernails. he shivers despite himself and his cock starts to harden. “ask me for what you want, troy.”
“i want to touch you, miss.” this is a routine we have. troy doesn’t like to ask for things.
“i am sure you do,” i answer in my bitchiest tone.
troy sighs under his breath. he knows what he has to say. “may i please touch you, miss?” i cut him some slack even though he sounds less than enthusiastic. this is a tough subject for him. when he makes me really mad, i love to threaten to take him out to the bars and make him hit on women. being forced to be the pursuer is pretty much his worst nightmare. otherwise known to me as fun!  i whisper in his ear how i’d sit at my table and watch him as he made his feeble attempts, the whole time keeping notes in my head to hiss at him later. i knew he would be too nervous to even fake being cool. i really just had to leave him to his own devices and he would humiliate himself without me lifting a finger. sometimes i would say it as more of a promise than a threat. the fear on his face makes me wet every single time.
“yes, baby, you have my permission to touch me,” i look up at him. he looks down at me. we stare into each other’s eyes. i can see his truth looking out at me from behind his eyes. he reaches his shaky hand out and strokes my hair. i close my eyes and lean into his hand like a cat. he moves closer, weaving his fingers through my ringlets. he gathers everything up into a loose bun, twisting my hair around itself,  and fixes it in place with the chinese hair stick. one stray black curl falls into my eyes. he winds it around the bun gently and tucks its end in. “thank you,” i say to him, petting luigi softly by my side. “coffee, please, trina.”
he pours the coffee, adds the cream and sugar and stirs it silently with a silver spoon. “here, miss,” he says and hands me the cup.
“did the paper come yet?” i sip my coffee with one hand and stroke the bulge under his skirt with the other.
“no,” he clears his throat, “no miss, no paper yet today.” he is watching my nails slowly moving up and down his cock intently. his breathing begins to deepen from the sensations.
“i guess you will have to entertain me then,” i circle the head of his cock through the fabric. a small drop of wetness starts to appear and spreads to the size of a quarter. “eager again today, i see.”
i put my coffee cup down on the night stand and scooch down into the bed. i throw the duvet off of my legs, showing him clearly now that I’m only wearing a camisole that ends at my waist. he focuses on my almost bare pussy. i watch his pupils darken with wanting.
“here, please,” i say and pat the bed between my legs. i let my knees fall to the sides exposing my wet and waiting pussy. Troy lays down on the bed immediately, pushing the duvet completely off and out his way. an image of him cracking his knuckles like a concert pianist preparing to play flashes in my mind. troy always has a flair for the dramatic.
“make me cum, girl,” i order. he licks his lips and leans in, kissing my pussy softly, starting slow like i’ve taught him. his hands move up around to my hips. he presses his fingers in to my flesh, the urgency apparent in his grip. i moan and start to relax. he moves his tongue against me, gently opening my pussy. small sugar coated electric shocks start pulsing over my clit. i press against his mouth moaning, “yes…good girl…” he pushes forward, stiffening his tongue just enough to increase the pressure. my clit throbs with every stroke. my body pulses and i squirm around trying to find the perfect spot. a few sucks later and i’m grinding myself against him, his head engulfed by my thighs. i can hear his muffled moans, “mmmm..hmm.mmmm..mmm.” i can tell he likes his job.
 “yes…YES!,” my breath is getting faster and deeper. i wrap my hands around the sides of his head and pull his mouth to my pussy forcefully. “give it to me, baby…i want it now…” i sound like i’m growling. Troy answers me with a loud “mmmmmmm!” then i am cuming, hard and fast. electricity fires throughout my body, the orgasm shaking me like an earthquake. i squeeze him between my legs, breathing with the waves of my clit.
“oh…god…” i hear myself whimpering. my legs are shaking like crazy. i let go of troy’s head and grab my thighs, trying to stop them from jumping around like that. then i just start laughing. i can’t help myself. the pussy bone is connected to the funny bone, i guess. the release of endorphins into my brain from such a strong orgasm sends me into the giggles. he is looking up at me from between my legs, face wet with my juices. he is grinning like an idiot. “good girl, troy! very good girl!” i pat him on the head gently.
we lay like that for a few minutes. he kisses the lips of my pussy so softly i almost think i can go again. i hug him with my thighs and drag my fingernails through his hair. i tell him i love him. “i love you, miss,” his eyes twinkle. i pull on his forearm, telling him without words that i want him to come up on the bed next to me. he untangles himself from my legs and moves to me. we sit next to each other, leaning on the red velvet. i let him hold my hand. he turns it over again in his hand comparing the size difference. even with my long red nails, his hand  dwarfs my hands. my ruby ring throws rainbows up on the walls.
“take down my hair,” i say sternly. his eyes look to mine quickly. he looks nervous. i stare him straight in his eyes, unflinching. he tries to look right back at me but can only hold my stare for a few seconds. then he flushes bright red, knowing i know that he’s scared out of his mind. he reaches gingerly towards the pile of wild curls on my head. he grasps the ruby end of the hair stick and tugs it out of the bun. my hair falls all around me, covering my breasts so only small tinges of pink can be seen between the black strands. troy is holding the hair stick out to me, presenting it like a gift. i make a mental note. he is trying really hard to be calm. i know he’d rather throw that spiked hair stick out the window right now. his bravery may deserve a gold star. i will think about that later.
“give me your hand, please,” my voice is strong and steady, my intentions made clear. troy raises his right arm and presents his hand to me, palm up. his eyes are flashing, wondering what the hell am i going to do to him. i twirl a long ringlet of my hair around my finger, watching him process his thoughts. with my other hand, i absently drag the sharp hair stick along the sheet between us. the threads snag and break from the spiked tip. “are you ready, baby?” i ask.
“not really,” he says in a quiet little voice.
“that’s a shame,” i say, sounding like a phony fake sarcastic bitch. i ignore his fear and lift the spiked hair stick, resting the cutting edge in his palm. his body visibly shakes at my touch. “i would never hurt you, trina,” i say sweetly as i scratch a heart shape into his skin. it’s not a deep cut. in fact, i don’t even think you can call it a cut really. it isn’t anything worse than a cat scratch. ok, a mad cat scratch. troy draws in a sharp breath in reaction to the pain. the skin under the heart shape starts to rise into a welt immediately, the blood reaching the surface and just barely breaking through. i lower my lips to his hand and blow soft air on the scraps. troy makes an small noise in his throat. “is that better, baby?” he doesn’t answer me. he is looking down at his wounded palm. i lean in closer and kiss his hand to make it better. “so you’ll think of me the next time you are stroking,” i say gently to him. he hadn’t noticed until right that second which hand i had taken from him. which hand i had marked. the heart shaped welt is stinging and throbbing. troy closes his hand into a fist testing the depth of the cuts. “just a friendly reminder,” i say to him and pull his face in to kiss him hard on the mouth, claiming him.
 

it's your color

“but seduction isn’t making someone do what they don’t want to do. seduction is enticing someone into doing what they secretly want to do already.”

~ walter rant

i sit at my computer typing as fast as i can, trying to focus on my story. i try to not look at the fedex envelope on my desk. the hand writing i’m not staring at is hers. i would know it anywhere. i want so bad to tear the long white edge of the envelope open and look at my prize inside. but she has told me to wait until she calls. i have wasted an hour already trying to will my cell phone to ring. it’s in my pocket, set to vibrate, and pressed up against my cock. these are my usual instructions. my story is sucking, but i don’t care. i just need to keep busy.

i have just lost my thought for the millionth time when my phone starts buzzing and vibrating loudly against me. the sudden jolt of feeling makes me jump in my chair as my cock answers the call first, snapping to attention. my heart pounds in my head. i fish in my pocket for my phone. my hand rubs up against my hard-on which starts to weep immediately. i yank the phone from my pocket and check the caller id. it’s her! i panic for just a second and hit the button.

“hello, miss,” i say as confidently as i can.

“hey, girlie, did you get my present?” she asks happily.

i touch the envelope lovingly with my fingers, feeling the bump on its side, trying to figure out what is inside by braille. i was afraid to find out actually.

“yes, miss, and thank you. you really didn’t have to…” she cuts me off.

“i don’t do things unless i want to, trina,” she says sternly. “take it in the bathroom with you and close the door.”

my heart races as i get up from my chair. “yes, miss, right away.” what is she up to this time? my dick shivers as i walk down the hallway . i enter the bathroom and close the door behind me. this is my secret place. my private space where i do her bidding. in here, i belong to her completely. “i’m here, ma’am.” i say cautiously. she makes me nervous and jumpy, never knowing what might come out of her mind or her mouth.

“take off your clothes, girl,” she orders. i put the phone down and quickly strip off everything i am wearing. now i am naked and my hard cock mocks me. i reach for my cell and put it to my ear.

“i am all yours, miss.” i notice the envelope balanced on the edge of the sink and fondle it lovingly.

“good girl, trina. i want you to kneel in your position and open your present.”
i put the bath mat down on the tile floor and kneel on it, adjusting my knees into the best or i should say the least worst position. i tear open my envelope and turn it upside down, emptying its contents onto the floor. a small black tube of lipstick rolls across the tile. my heart sinks.

“pick it up, girlie,” she hisses into my ear. “you know you want to. i picked it out just for you, to accentuate those cocksucker lips of yours. every pretty girl should have a nice pucker.”

i reluctantly reach for the lipstick and remove the cap. it’s hot barbie doll bubble gum pink. i feel a little bit sick and take a deep breath.

“such a chicken shit!” she seethes. she can hear the dread in my breathing. “it’s not like anyone can see you, troy. it’s not like i can even see you, remember? this is all in fantasyland because you are just too scared to try it in public life. afraid you’ll break and never come back together like humpty dumpty?” she mocks me and i love it. i can’t say anything.

the lipstick looks like a small cock in my hand. she reads my mind, “remind you of your dick? don’t even flatter yourself there.” a small whimper escapes my throat before i can stop it. she laughs at me.

“put it on, trina,” she orders becoming very serious. “don’t get up to look in the mirror either. i want you to do this by feel. now do a good job and don’t disappoint me. i want your nice pretty pink mouth ready and waiting for my use.”

i lift the lipstick to my mouth. i can smell the womanly fragrance rise into my nose. my hand is shaking so much i smear the hot pink creme across my upper lip and on to my cheek.

“shit!” i exclaim to myself.

“don’t screw it up, girl.” she warns.

i rub the back of my hand across my mouth roughly, wiping my first unsuccessful try off. the blazing pink sparkles up at me in the light. i switch the phone to my other ear and try it again.

“go slowly, little baby,” she whispers half supporting me, half taunting me.

i raise my hand to my mouth and apply the lipstick as best i can. i try to stay within the lines of my lips, but it is really hard to tell what is where without looking in a mirror. i knew anyway that even if my lipstick was perfectly applied, i’d still look like too much of an asshole to pull it off as anything other than desperate for attention, willing to debase myself like this of my own free will.

“i did it, ma’am,” i mumble into the phone, ashamed of myself. the lipstick feels like lumpy rubber cement gluing my lips together. i rub them together like i’ve seen women do before to try to even it out.

“of course you did it, mouse.” she snaps. “get up and look in the mirror. tell me how good of a job you did.”

i rise to my feet and turn slowly to look at my reflection. my very first thought is “troy, you do not make a pretty woman.”

“oh my god,” comes out of my mouth.

“tell me,” she says.

“i look…well, i look not good, i can tell that much!” i say staring at the pathetic slut wearing bubble gum lipstick in the mirror.

“did you do a good job or is it smashed all over you?”

i just stare at myself, repulsed and transfixed. i can tell she loves this though which makes my humiliation seem worth it somehow.

“i think i did an ok job. it’s not perfect like when you put on lipstick, miss. but i think i did ok for the first time and without a mirror.” i wipe the bottom edge of my lip with my finger tip to straighten out the line and darken the center lightly to deepen the color. then i make a big kissy face at myself in the mirror.

“sexy, not so much” i say out loud.

she laughs loudly into the phone. “for that hilarious comment, i will allow you to start stroking my cock. watch your pretty little mouth in the mirror and listen to my voice,” she commanded.

i did as i was told and pinched my cock between my fingers for the first time in over a week. i long moan escaped from my glossy lips and into the phone.

“i can so see you right now…all tarted up with huge blow up doll pink lips. just waiting for some nice man to stick his pulsing cock down your throat. isn’t that what you want, slut?”

“yes, ma’am,” i reluctantly admit, breathing hard already.

“Are you my slut, troy?”

“oh, yes, ma’am,” i answer, my cock stiffening harder in my hand. “please, mistress.”

her voice is low and slow in my ear. i can almost feel her hot breath on my neck. “look at yourself, trina. do not look away from who you really want to be.” i pump my cock up and down and look myself in the eyes in the mirror. my pink lips are parted and panting.

“lick your lips like a slut!” she commands.

i run my tongue all around my lips like i’m trying to seduce someone from across the bar. my stomach jumps around in my throat. there is no denying how stupid i look. i notice i don’t even consider stopping any of this.

“on my mark,” she says, giving me the signal that i will be allowed to cum
any second now. i jack myself off hard, gasping and moaning, feeling the orgasm rise.

“tell me who you belong to, whore and you can come!” she says.

i answer, “you miss…only you,” and shoot my load into my palm, my dick pulsing and throbbing for longer than usual. it has been a long time since she’s let me cum. the first one back is always exceptional. i can hear my own voice out side of my head whimpering “thank you…thank you…” like a sad little boy afraid he’ll be left all alone if he isn’t grateful enough.

“clean up, mouse,” she says in a very bitchy tone. “clean up your hand and hide your lipstick away. when i’m in the mood to play dress up again, i want you ready to go.”

i’m licking the cum off of my fingers and listening to her voice strike me like a cane. for a second i can imagine her holding my face tightly in her hands and smearing hot pink bubble gum lipstick all over my mouth. her fingers press against my tongue as she uses her fingernails to hold my lips open, staining me with her paint.

craziness everywhere! hope my people are doing good. i will get back to all of you, promise.

out of town til the 31st. everyone try to remain calm in my absence.

ok, so 2010 has sucked in so many ways i can't even count. here's to 2011 being the exact opposite. i hope i find a new slave and 330 million dollars. every one stay safe tonight. one death this week has been more than enough.

christmas is trying to kill me.

really great day today. and i hot date tomorrow. life is being good to me *knocks on wood*

unless you are extremely weathly and own your own private jet and can fly around the country whenever i need you, please don't offer to serve me , especially if you live in another state, country or planet. i do not do long distance unless you really blow my socks off and i must have you. consider that a challenge.

long day but good day. made peace with the ex (no, not THAT ex), got a clean bill of health at the doctor, and worked my ass off. is it ok to go to bed at 5:30pm?

the law is blind and deaf and dumb.

i'm back. the judge that heard my case was a nazi. she dismissed the domestic violence charges out of hand because it all took place in 2009 or prior which might have something to do with the fact that i ran away from SF to hide in LA from his controlling, asshole self in january 2010. when my lawyer reminded her that he said he wished i would disappear and die and then suggested very loudly that i consider leaving the house before he makes me leave, the judge actually rolled her eyes at me. it was surreal. and devastating. which is not what i needed right now. i'm going to bed.

really stressed out with my dad and the divorce. sorry i haven't been around to chat. hope everyone is doing good.

simplifying for the moment:

i want a close circle of friends and lovers surrounding me with companionship and love, accepting my flaws as well as my virtues. easy, right?

i need a volunteer geek. ok, so me and computers/electronics/things-that-involve-being-plugged-into-a-wall do not get along. unless you are talking about cuisinarts and sex toys. and i need to do some things around my house that are beyond me. such as setting up my printer, installing my gps in my car, helping me figure out quicken, figure out why my mac won't let me run microsoft word and then explaining microsoft word to me. yes, i am the technological equivalent of my gramma betty who never drove a car or wore pants, but always sewed a dime into my bra so i could call a cab if my date got fresh. anyone up for the job?

i'm looking for once a week domestic service including cleaning, laundry and a few minor handy man activities. if i happen to really like you, i would consider a deeper kind of d/s relatinship. but off the bat, all i need right now is a houseboy or girl. be serious. don't show up with a do-me list. and please don't waste my time. i will not spank you for washing my dishes.

well, it's been a hard few weeks (for everyone it seems), but i'm starting to feel better. i've been plotting and planning my birthday next week which is fun. i was contemplating having a little get together and definetly some extra special things with the bf. i have a couple of big deal decisions to make next week as well. it's going to be a roller coaster, i'm sure.

i've also got my plans together for my sf trip in september for doctors and ex husbands and folsom. that makes me feel much less stressed about it. at least i'll have a hotel to hide in if the ex goes nutso or one of my doctors finds something worrisome. i can't wait to see my sf loves. i miss you all so much.

and as for the weekend, well, i'm so happy it's here. saturday night will be weird with passive arts being closed though. i promised my dog a walk in the canyon. and i have a coffee date with a new one. the babe i mentioned a few weeks back and i didn't work out. so once again, i am in search of my sub. wish me luck. i hope everyone can relax even a little bit and get some luvs. that's my plan. allix, out.

so, after a strange and twisted few weeks, it finally occurred to me that getting a divorce and trying to start new relationships (like emotionally complex ones) is such a really bad idea. i have a psych degree. i should know this already. apparently, i'm my worst patient. i am buried under a pile of life right now. why on earth would i be able to make sense of all of this? it's like i was programmed to go seek what i just lost. and there are only eight million other options available in my life than "serious".

what i need is people who are fun and easy. who want to go out, or stay in *winkwink* and keep things light. i want to date around and be free to hop on people and send them home! i know, what a concept.

this is not to say that if my dream sub/bf/gf/relationship/lobster showed up, i wouldn't be happy about it. but it's moving off my list of concerns for now. i got married very young and spent most of my adult life with a primary. i just kind of never realized til now that i am my own primary. and living alone rocks.

the stuff of late has been very confusing. finding out the truth about the ex is both liberating in the sense that i can never go back and devastating because it hurts when things end. important 20 year things. some days i feel like i drank way too much last night and just woke up in LA single. it's kind of the opposite of waking up in vegas married.

i will be the first to admit that my world is made of shifting sands right now. in the haze, the one thing that is crystal clear to me is i need to fill my LA life with real things and people to keep me busy and occupied and moving in a forward direction. but they need to know that i have my moments of vast misunderstanding and need clarification. not unlike everyone else in the human race, but i'm yelling it from the mountain top instead of pretending i'm always cool. maybe that's me growing up and taking people (including myself) as they are, not as i wish they were.

it takes a while to work out the getting-each-other system between me and a new person. i think a lot. i'm not for the timid. and yes, sometimes i am off my game. the bf gets caught in it the most. he's getting much better at recognizing when i'm mad because i need some love, even if my mouth is saying otherwise. and actually, so am i. i never said i was a simple girl. but i would like to get that control back. of saying what i'm feeling clearly. and not needing to request a do-over every once in a while. what can i say? i'm still working on being that flawless, ever in control, whip throwing woman. while that happens, i'm just going to be me.

swiped this from the domme chronicles. pay attention, subs. in fact, take notes:

"In short, I am pretty easy going as a person walking around in the world, though I am aware that the snippets that I show of myself here may not reflect that because I am not easy going when it comes to my submissive. That’s because in my personal relationships, I care, and I care a lot, to the umpteenth degree. I keep him on a tight leash because control is one of my fetishes, because having him ‘right here with me, close to me, inside of me’ means reaching into his head and pulling the strings as an act of intimacy. I see his obedience as a way for him to express his affection for me. He has to see it that way also, that his obedience is an act that binds us, or it won’t work for me."

i updated my previous journal, but i want this where everyone can see it: i'm benign! best case scenario is they will continue to test my spots every 6 months and they will continue to be benign. this is my decree. thanks for all the support this last week (those of you who bothered to give any *gives you the look*).

omg, what a week. parts of sf were horrendous (see previous posts) while other parts were great. spent a ton of time with my bestest friend of all time (melyssa), chain smoking in my weird little british hotel room, doing group therapy and trying to figure out what the hell to do next with our lives. friday night, we went to tryst at the citadel which was so fun. i saw so many people i haven't seen before and all my old cronies. there were even a few surprise gorgeous ladyfriends i didn't know would be there. i have some fond memories of yummy cleavage running towards me, calling my name. you know who you are. saw an amazing set of wings pierced into this pretty girls shoulder blades and ate a delish frozen banana (you have a dirty mind). but definetly the best part was watching my friend get sucked into the dark side. she is so one of us now. from vanilla to FL profile in less than 6 hours. yes, that's her now listed under my protection. be good to her or you will have to deal with me. just saying. one other nice thing, my new service sub in sf brought me a box of red hots at the party because i'm a red hot2mato. it was so simple and sincere. good job, g. so, that's the scoop. glad to be home.

here i am, back in san francisco. i so don't belong here anymore. makes me feel like i don't belong anywhere. did the cancer doctor thing today. something looks funky around the area where the tumor was last year. dealt with the needles and they should have an answer in a week. nothing like waiting FOREVER for results. while we're on the subject of stressful things, my ex is being a heartless bastard on all fronts. yay for spending 20 years with someone who forgets you in a matter of months. annyyywwwaaaay, i'm still trying for tryst on friday. hope to see some of my people there. i need the hugs.

i have something to talk about that has nothing to do with my divorce (go, me!). i was at a party wednesday night at threshold and there was a surprise collaring! a bunch of people in gas masks ran in and grabbed the slave girl, pushed her around a little bit, stripped off her clothes and blindfolded her. she was carried into the main dungeon and handed over to a few of the dom's friends for various things. first up was this colorful dom who straddled the slave and tickled the hell out of her. it looked to be about the worst thing you could do to this girl. but no. then a gorgeous mistress and her boi, each with floggers in both hands, florentine flogged the girl so they had four floggers going on her at once. i've seen a lot. that was impressive. slave girl was carried to a table and shackled down. a new mistress came up with flaming torches and did this amazing fire play scene. she was between the slave girl's legs, blowing on the torch so the flames would literally lick at her pussy. so good.

after that, they flipped her over and the piercing dom came forward. he pronounced loudly and often that they were going to put meathooks in the slave's back and hoist her up towards the ceiling. he took off her blindfold and kept taunting her with the sealed package of piercing hooks. the collaring dom pushed all her buttons, scaring the shit out of her. but i have to say, she did so good! she was terrified but willing to face it all for her master. they did all the prep for the piercing and when it was time, the dom switched the heavy needles with these average gauge ones as a mind fuck. i will always remember the look of determination on her face when he said "ok, ready?" and she said "yes, sir". the relief of feeling the small needles go through her flesh was overwhelming for her and every one around her applauded her courage. did i mention that she looks like dita von teese and i was drooling? *fans herself*

after she calmed down, there was a reading of her slave vows. for the signing of the contract, they took some of her blood and injected it into a feather pen so she could sign in her blood. her collar had this pretty cameo dangling from it. it was really beautiful. the entire ceremony touched me in a way i hadn't felt in a while about d/s and gave me some hope that what i want is out there and i can find it. so, thanks to all involved. you were inspiring. oh, and hot.

Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing. ~ Anais Nin

they asked me a million questions about life as a soon to be divorcee, like i was the first one ever to leave their husband the day before christmas and somehow survive it. it was kind of like doing a documented critical essay on myself. explaining to them helped me hear how much better i am doing than i thought i was. go me. i mean, things are hard for sure and my wishlist for life grows every day. but it ain't that bad. i already have a good mechanic and *my* organizational style is the only one that matters to me now. in my new, mine-all-mine apartment. i can cuff a boy to the bed and make him beg any time of the day or night. i can leave him there for a while! i can fuck the daylights out of him with my strappy, clasping my hand over his nose and mouth, watching his eyes roll back. sorry. what? date with the bf tomorrow night. distracted me. *bats her eyes*

ok anyway, thanks cheerleader girls from high school for reminding me that i kick ass. i'm so taking up shooting guns.

so, i'm still struggling along, trying to find things every day in my very unorganized apartment. i'm so over this moving thing. i met a nice girl this week for the house girl position. she is very sweet. now i just have to see how helpful she is. i also made it out through the monsoon to threshold for the garden of heathens party. i've never been there before. the space is great. less of a club atmosphere than passive arts (which may have to do with threshold not having a bar) and more of an actual dungeon. reminded me a little of the citadel in terms of community. the bf was wearing high heeled mistress boots and doing take down scenes in them, no less. that was fun to watch. i'm going to the threshold orientation this month to become official. you can expect to see me a lot around there.

that's the fun stuff. in not fun news, i'm broke, depressed, stressed, really wishing for a good sub, missing SF, being annoyed by the LA sunshine and traffic, and hanging on by my fingernails. allix out.

well, things have been moving along. i finally got a real phone, a tv, and my own dsl so i am no longer trapped on the technology free deserted island. i met a few could be interesting subs this last week. i'm really looking for my housegirl this time around. i need a right hand, as a very smart girl said to me. i so hope one of them is a good match.

i had a lovely date with the bf in my new apartment. it felt GREAT to have him collared again for the night and at my disposal. i'd tell you all the naughty things we did but you'd be jealous *brags a little bit* i heart him. he is a good thing about being here in LA.

been doing a little match making between the subby boys i know and my femdomme friends. my inner yenta is happy she still has it. now if i can just find myself a cute subby. some times i wonder if i'm just too much for people. i so suck at casual. if i'm considering you, i'm considering you on a permanent basis, no matter what type of relationship i'm pursuing with you. i attach quickly. i can't even lie. and maybe it's all this divorce drama, but my heart is feeling very tender. it's been a week of surprisingly strong feelings about several people in my world, and i am having a hard time sorting through them all.

so, that's the latest from here. i'll be at the sanctuary dungeon warming friday night and then saturday, i'm getting my hair dyed. i'm actually considering becoming a redhead for a while. i need the change. or the disguise. not sure which.

 i'm here. i am surrounded by boxes. i need help! *snaps her fingers*

 i highly recommend you go heavy on the cognac part.

best then worst then best then even better thanksgiving ever!

best: so it started out great for me just because i didn't have to cook this year. this would be the first time in 20 years i haven't had to cook thanksgiving for the family. i went on strike and instead of making dinner, i made reservations. at the top of the mark! (swanky gorgeous restaurant with a glorious view at the top of the mark hopkins hotel here in sf). i was beside myself. everything tasted divine. and i didn't have to chop one single celery stalk.

worst: then, the drama that is my life showed up and tried to ruin my day. let's just say things are not all quiet on the home front. i really needed to get out of here.

best: so i check my email right quick (as you do) and to my surprise, i find a thanksgiving gift from my bf that just blew my mind. i'm sworn to secrecy because some thing should remain private. but it was the perfect gift and the perfect time. and i lurve him. lots and lots and lots *gushes*

even better: after i finished swooning around, i hurled myself into the car and headed over to the citadel for the thanksgiving potluck. and no, i didn't cook anything for that either (sorry people). i did bring a ton of cookies though! so, i haven't been around much lately due to drama. and it was so nice to see everyone and remember that yes, i have friends and no, i am not all alone in the bay area. you all made me feel really loved and strong. we really are so lucky to have the group of people we do. i love you guys more than i can say. and i met a couple of new hotties to boot. say it with me now: yay thanksgiving! xoxo

so, the boy and i are dunzo. we are still friends, and all that. and i think we both understand the reasons why. i'm still super sad anyway. am i supposed to be acting like a heartless bitch who feels nothing and will just move on to the next waiting boy? that uniform doesn't fit me today.

anyway, be nice to him if you see him around. he is a good boy with a huge heart. i'd appreciate that.

UPDATE: sometimes yelling like kathleen turner actually does something. the doctor just called and i'm benign!! woot!!

 update: i survived. tests will be back next week. for all of you into concon, torturous, medieval kind of needle play, i recommend a thyroid biopsy.

so, stuff has been happening left and right. i feel like i haven't had a minute to sit down and write. i did have my toy over this weekend while my best gf was here. she has been vanilla all of my life, but over the years has seen a few lifestyle type activities here and there. it's kind of hard to own a slave for 15 years and not have your best friend notice.

so, back to my toy. i had him dolled up in a frilly maid's uniform and his 7 inch boots. he looks like a super model when he's that tall. my favorite part was the red slutty saloon girl garter. and he has such pretty skin. 21 year olds are yummy. ok, what? so he was cuffed to my punishment bench and then just for some extra fun, i had saran wrapped his torso and arms to each other and the bench. it's stronger than it looks, huh baby? *laughs*

so there i am, doing my thing which that day included some knife play (i put a pretty A into his chest for allix) and me losing count of how many times i had tightened the penis pump. so sad. had to start again. my slave was being super good. taking everything i could dig up and being very impressive for my friend. who seriously had been sitting on the couch over there with her computer "working". then out of nowhere, she gets up and takes one of my canes from the tool box. she is holding it backwards, with the handle end waving around over my slave's chest. she freaked me out *laughs* she's never paid much attention to my "crazy sex life stuff".

needless to say, i showed her the correct way to hold a cane, and she tried it out super duper lightly, but more with a poke poke poke kind of way. so i took it from her and caned the inside of this thighs so she could see. my baby was moaning and doing his "oh my gosh, mistress" thing that i LOVE. i ask if she wants to try again? she says ok and takes the cane. she looks at him on the bench and kind of moves closer. his hard cock is tied up in the end of the leash which is locked to his collar at his neck so if he jerks around, bad things happen. my friend touches it with the cane. my slave jumps and whimpers as everything yanks badly. my friend pulls the cane away like it's on fire and looks at me with this huge smile on her face. i'm like "i know, right?" and she just starts laughing. it was a very small start.

so, i took a break. stuff calmed down. stuff will flip out again. such is life, right? i have to remember that part during the dark hours.

thanks to everyone who checked in on me. i love you guys, and am lucky to have you all.

hope to see everyone around soon and hear about their various folsom debaucheries. i am loving looking at all the pictures that are slowly being posted. we're all a bunch of hotties!

hello people who love service,

i am looking high and low for a service submissive/house boy or girl/maid to help me with a myriad of tasks around my house. this includes everything from washing dishes to organizing the closets, so both long and short term projects. i am only looking for serious people with integrity. chemistry and trust have a lot to do with whether or not i want you in my house. so let's talk and see what we have.

thanks, miss allix

 update: add a service sub/sissy maid who gets off on cleaning to my list of demands. if you are wealthy/into giving away your money *and* you want to clean my kitchen, even better.

i had a quick little play date with the new boy today. we ran through a few of my tamer cbt tricks. he took it all really well. but the best part was his cute moaning of "oh my gosh, mistress" over and over. the gosh part was killing me. i wanted to eat him up.

dead fridge *woot woot* don't you love when things die right when you need them most and have no money to replace them? yay life! i did this already once this year and the guy fixed it. my instincts tell me this time, i need a new one. i'm waiting for his ass to get here and tell me just how fucked i am. i'm about to start selling my body.

i've had a great weekend! my husband has been running around plotting secret presents and dinners and generally being prince charming. i am a very lucky girl *knocks on wood* some highlights: new bondage mits and an assylum mask from mr. s, all the harry potter's, a swanky new red cell phone (which means i should be back in cell phone business by tomorrow, btw so if you want to call, give it a try), and best of all, ICE CREAM CAKE! it is bright yellow with tiny red roses all over it. so super cute. and yummy. i have enough ice cream cake for the rest of my life. one other very nice thing, my new boy made several efforts to wish me a happy birthday even though he is out of town dealing with a family death. it may seem small to some. but it means a lot to me. he doesn't need to be thinking about me right now and he is. could it be? have i found a real, thoughtful slave? *crosses her fingers*

so, new boys, no time, totally broke, missing all of you. thank you and good night.

ok, seriously, i've been running like crazy, being atlas to everyone and their brother. i did have a great date with the hub over the weekend, and there are 2 new boys on the menu if i can find a minute to myself. if anything comes of either of them, i'll give up the details.

something weird happened though. the bf is a model and started doing some bdsm videos. i knew this, and didn't really think anything other than "yay! he needs the money!". and then i ran across one of them in my usual spin around the internet porn. i dunno, i mean, he is so hot and mistress january is a pro for sure and everything should be all hunky dory and stuff. but for some reason, i am a crazy green jealous monster. the fact that he is far away, and i never see him, and i want to torture him like she gets to, just kind of blew a hole in my heart. i kind of feel like the hurt of missing him is more than the happy of having him which is me being stupid (i know). usually, i'm pretty good with long distance. i've had one *25 year* long distance lover and of course, my girl blossom lives in CT these days. but for some reason with him, i'm having a really hard time dealing with it. i have never been one to end things out of fear of getting hurt. i don't live my life like that. i don't know where this is coming from. but i has a sad. and of course, the video is HOT! so i want to watch it a lot. *sighs* i has a crazy too, i think.

what a fucking week. the dying is over for now, which is nice. something sweet i found out after the fact: hospitals are cold. so i had bought ben this glorious chocolate cashmere blanket to bring with him during treatments.turns out it was his favorite thing and he died wrapped in it. then the drama started. it accidentally went to the funeral home with ben when his wife was planning on keeping it forever, etc. so after several frantic phone calls, the blanked was found and returned to debbie who is sleeping with it in the bed. phew one of those bittersweet things.

in just bitter news, my family has decided to break up with me. this after many years of me being the only parent (to both my sister and my parents, i might add). what's that saying? no good deed goes unpunished. yeah, so that's fun.

and in good news, ben dying meant the hub and i took over his business (read: my husband is working his ass off to keep all the clients from bailing due to death of ben). so somehow in the middle of funerals and lost blankets, my genius husband landed a huge contract. don't ask me how. i can barely see right now. maybe the money sitch is starting to look up knocks on wood

ok, and on to future plans: friday at the citadel is looking good. saturday my friends are throwing a bbq which i really hope i can get to. and sunday, i am doing the kinkiest, edgiest thing i have ever done in my entire life. brace yourselves. i, miss allix, am going to the styx and reo speedwagon concert. i know, i know. i'll be very careful. i have my safeword ready.