STRANGE: Entry #5

I decided to change the name of my journal to Strange. The reason being, I don't think people will go back to read the first entry and because Strange is what I plan on titling my book. So this next entry involves multiple people and it doesn't paint one of them in the best light. In the sense of fair play, I am changing his name. We will call him Nate. It should also be noted that Nate's problem has corrected itself and he is now a fully functioning adult. I should also point out that this story is better told in person, because the facial expression required to accurately portray a portion of the tale, just can't be done with words. Nevertheless, I will try to do so. And without further adieu, I give you...

The Anita Story

Nate and I had started the night drinking. And it turns out, we were ending the night the same way. We were in Austin at a bar called the Bitter End. Back then it was a much cooler bar and not the shit hole it turned out to be later. As the bar closed Nate and I were walking the 6 blocks to the car when he had a great idea.

"I bet you Denny's I can make it all the way to the car with my cock hanging out," Nate said.

"Not a chance. And I'll take that bet. But you can't hide your cock with your shirt or hands. It has to be plainly visible and I get to shout things while walking behind you."

"Alright, deal"

So with that, Nate whips his cock out and begins walking to the car. I trail along several feet behind him shouting things like, "Man with his cock out!" or "Look at the small penis on the guy in front of me!" Either way, I was drumming up attention for Nate's one man cock-showing tour. 

Oddly enough, no one really cared and we were arrested. He made it the entire way to my car. Once we got there I fumbled for the keys and tried to get in the car. However, Nate was a good friend. As such he informed me that I was too drunk to drive. And he was right. So I handed my keys over to the much drunker Nate and we drove off to Denny's for Nate's victory meal.

We got to Denny's and it seemed like the night would end quite peacefully. Nate ordered some omelet and I order the Moons over My Hammy. I loved that sammich. Writing about it now makes me wish I was eating one right now. 

As we ate, Nate kept glancing over at a table behind us. When he started to get all fidgety I asked him what was wrong. He told me that the woman behind us had been staring at us all night and that he thinks she is kinda hot. I peer over my shoulder, give her the once over and decide she is not attractive--not even a little. Of course Nate told me I was just drunk and wouldn't know a hot girl if one came and sat on my face. He'd been right about the car so I wasn't about to argue this point either. Besides, my sammich was getting cold.

We continued to eat quietly and then Nate decided he had to take a leak. He gets up to leave and he isn't gone 5 seconds when the woman comes over to me.

"Hey," she says, "I think you and your friend are kinda hot."

With egg and ham on my face, I squint up at her and say, "Yea? Well he thinks you are cute too."

Figuring our conversation is over, I go back to ignoring her and munch happily on my food. I guess she stood there for a few moments before going back to her seat. Nate came out of the bathroom not long after and sat back down at our table. After his first bite of food, the woman came back over.

"Any of you guys have a light?" She asked.

Nate frantically scrambled in his pockets, pulled out a lighter and lit her cigarette. She sat down, I eyed her suspiciously and finished off my sammich. The conversation ambled along until she mentioned she runs a modeling agency. My ears perked up at that and I mentioned I was a photographer. We chatted about me working for her and we set up a meeting for the next day. As we got up to leave, she told us she didn't have a ride to her hotel and wondered if we could give her a lift. Seeing as how I was still too drunk to drive, Nate volunteered to drive her home. I don't know why I was forced to sit in the back seat of my own car, but Nate assured me it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

We got to her hotel, she invited us in, Nate followed her and I grudgingly came along. I knew I needed to sober up, and they were probably gonna talk for a while, so I asked if I could use her shower. Thinking back, this was kind of a strange request, but at the time it was the right thing to do. She told me I could shower and so I did. I was probably in the shower 15 minutes before I came out. I was unprepared for what I saw when I came out.

Anita, that was her name, and Nate were naked on the bed. There was porn on the T.V. and some dude named John, I found his name out later, was sitting in the corner smoking pot. Obviously things had spiraled out of control when I left moments ago. Before I could say anything, however, Anita grabbed Nate by the arm and led him to the bathroom, leaving me with John.

John made small talk about the porn. How he had seen better porn. If I wanted any pot? And how much money could be made doing various things in porn. It turns out that John was a pot smoking, porn aficionado. Apparently, while pot freed up a lot of his time and that allowed him to pursue his interest in pornography. 

After discussing the pros and cons of fake boobs with John, I decided it was time to go. About 30 minutes had passed since Nate disappeared and I decided to see what was going on in the bathroom. Without knocking, I opened the door and walked in. There I saw Nate and Anita wedged in the tub together, grinning like fools. I told Nate to get his shit.

As Nate and Anita came out of the bathroom, still naked, she grabbed me and pulled me into the bathroom. 

"Do you want a job as a photographer? I have two models lined up for tomorrow."

"Ummm sure," I said.

"Great. All you have to do is let me suck your cock."

I hesitantly agreed and she began to give me head. She wasn't that attractive but she could suck a mean dick. Although like most things this evening, this too was about to go sour.

"Ever had anyone lick your ass," she asked.

"Nope."

"Do you want me to?"

"Nope"

I don't know why she asked. She didn't listen and the next thing I knew, my salad was being tossed. She was rimming me like there was no tomorrow. All in all, it was an unpleasant sensation. But I asked her to stop and go back to finishing me off.

"Ever had a finger in your ass," she asked.

More nervously, "Nope."

"Do you want one in there."

Really nervous, "Nope."

I don't know why I thought she would listen. She didn't listen the first time. But what she did was unacceptable. Instead of one finger, she gave me a two-fer. I probably jumped 6 feet. I told her enough was enough Madam. 

A debate ensued and we agreed that if I fucked her, with a condom, I would get the job. So I did. I am not proud of it, but damn it I wanted to see models. 

As we came out of the bathroom, John had left and Nate was looking sad, still naked, but sad. 

"Nate," Anita said, "Can you eat pussy?"

"Like a mother-fuckin champ."

She climbed into bed with him and said, "Then get over here and eat some pussy."

I tried to wave him off. I tried to pull him away. But that son-of-a-bitch was determined to eat some pussy. So while he went under the covers to munch, I sat in the chair next to the bed and tried to drown out the sounds of pleasure.

After a while, Nate resurfaced and his face looked like a damned glazed donut. It was awful, all shinny and white. He, however, was grinning like he won something.

Then it was Anita's turn. She demanded he get on all fours and she laid underneath him with her head between his legs. Then she started to suck his cock. And yes, I was still sitting in the chair.

She stopped momentarily and moved behind him to his ass. "Nate, have you ever had anyone lick your ass," she asked.

And Nate, still on all fours, turned his head back to her and said, "Nope. And I don't think it is a good idea."

Not one to miss a show, I watched in horror as she spread his ass, leaned in, and tongue fucked his asshole. However, that only lasted about a moment. Her face scrunched up, became all puckered and she even gagged a little. 

Nate, turned back to her and said, "Pardon me, but I have a wiping problem." 

I nearly pissed myself I was laughing so hard. She, on the other hand, did not find it amusing. She asked me to get a washcloth with some soap on it. I did, still laughing. And she proceeded to wipe his ass. Nate didn't seem to mind and took it all in stride.

She stopped wiping him and demanded he fuck her. And he did. Well, he tried to anyway. He was suffering from whisky dick and although still impressive in size, it just couldn't quite stay in all the time. I was asked by her to put it back in numerous times, and each time I declined. I did, however, agree to slap Nate's ass. 

I ran from one end of the room to the other and smacked the shit out of his ass. I hit him so hard his nuts practically shot across the room with how hard they bounced off of Anita's ass. Nate could only gasp and ask me nicely not to hit him again. And with that I sat back down. 

The fucking continued for a while and then Nate finally started to sober up. As he looked down, he realized what I knew all along. Anita was ugly. Not only was she ugly, she was fat and ugly. I don't mean fat as in she could stand to lose a few pounds or she carried it well. Anita was fat. She was what other fat people called fat. She was about 5 ft. tall and about 5 ft. wide. She was Indian, but not the pretty kind. There was a borderline mustache across her upper lip and I can't quite remember but I like to think she was cross-eyed.

Nate looked to me for help. I shook my head and smiled. He got us into this, he can damn well get us out. Unfortunately, Nate did not have an exit strategy so he just kept fucking, never cumming, just fucking. I got tired of this and made a comment about the sun coming up. 

Nate dismounted off of her like an olympic champ. He grabbed his clothing, said a hasty good-bye and dashed out the door. Anita was stunned but I just told her Nate had something to do in the morning. We confirmed the plans for the photo shoot and I left.

I did end up working for her for a little while and I met some cool models in the process. I never dated the models I worked with because I didn't believe in damaging my reputation, but with this group I didn't have to worry. Anita informed them all that she had already fucked me and therefore, none of the models wanted anything to do with my penis.

I still tease Nate about this night and like I said in the beginning, he did clear up that pesky wiping problem. Since then I've never had to fuck anyone to get a job and I am happy to say I haven't seen Anita in years.

Popsicle Starfish Entry #4

First off, I think I should address an error in my journal name. Since these journal entries appear to run from newest to oldest, no one knows why it is called popsicle starfish. And if someone doesn't know what that means, it is very likely that they get the wrong impression of me. Mostly that I am a simple minded, limp-wristed feeb. Nothing could be further from the truth. But until I think of a better name I suppose it shall have to stand and maybe I will just keep putting up random explanations. Alright... glad we got that settled.

So this time I am not posting a story but rather some ideas that are more or less grouped together. I can't really say there is a set pattern to these next few lines but this is more my time to vent about some things. 

First, let's talk about BBC, not the British Broadcasting Channel but Big Black Cock. Why does it have to be BBC? You never hear BWC (Big White Cock). Is it because BBC sounds a little better and flows of the tongue easier, no pun intended. Or is it because black cock has an amazing PR campaign and there are a bunch of white guys out there with small cocks fucking millions of women and ruining it for the rest of us? And don't even get me started on the Asian penis, that PR guy just sucks. Here is a little blurb about penis size. And yes it felt weird looking this up.

"One recent study showed that Caucasians actually had the largest penises, with an average size of 6.4 inches. Blacks came in second with an average size of 6.1. Hispanics were third at 5.9 and those identifying as Asians were last with an average of 5.5 when erect. While this does seem to reinforce the stereotype of Asians having the smallest penises, it doesn’t reinforce the idea that Blacks are the largest. And considering the population explosion in Asia in the last 50 years, its safe to say that penis size and fertility have anything to do with each other." http://penis-enlargement-stretcher.com/penis-size-vs-race-debate.html

Now what does that paragraph tell us? Nothing, because statistics can be made to say anything. However, I still maintain that there should be a movement for BWC. And women should embrace it, literally. I mean, I'm a white guy and I've got a pretty sweet package. Sure it's not going to split anyone in half, but it is well above average in both width and length. Not only that, it's super sexy. I am sure every man says that about his cock, but seriously mine doesn't bend or hang funny. The head is nicely proportioned in comparison to the shaft. Hell if it were possible, my cock is so nice I'd fuck myself if I could. Wait, that's not gay is it? Not that being gay is bad, it's just that I am not gay. 

In conclusion, I have a nice big cock and I am white. 

Now on to other things... I maintain that going to a strip club is better than being on a first date... however, the first date has more long term benefits, but during the same amount of time, a strip club is better than a first date.. at least for a guy.

When a guy goes on a first date, he is nervous, wondering if she will like him, etc. He spends anywhere from 50-200 bucks and tries his best to impress his future mate. He tells her how pretty she is, how smart she is, has to listen to her dreams and stories, all the while trying not to picture her naked. He has to lie about himself just enough to seem cool but not so much that she finds out he never actually rescued baby seals and never was a ninja. At the end of the night, if he is lucky, he usually gets a kiss and the promise to see her again. Although sometimes, some great sex comes at the end of the night, but for the most part let's say that happens on the second date.

At the titty-bar something magical happens. The guy spends about the same amount of money, but this time he doesn't even have to shower if he doesn't want to. There is no worry if the girls will like him. Women will still climb all over his lap, tell him how handsome he is, how smart, how funny, etc. all to earn the almighty dollar. He gets to see breasts and asses. Women grind on him and whisper naughty things in his ear. He can lie his ass-off and women will still pretend to believe him. Sure at the end of the night he has a huge erection and will go home alone to take care of that by himself. But while he is there, he feels like a king. And on the first date the guy still has the same erection to take care of.

Although I would add that the chance of a girl bleeding on your lap is much higher in a titty-bar. So that does put a damper on things.

So yea.. just a few thoughts... things to mull over while you are beating, spanking or doing otherwise deviant things to your subs.

Popsicle Starfish Entry #3

I suppose some of you are wondering how I got my start in this glamorous world of BDSM and Fetishism. Although be some, I mean the handful of you that actually read my journal. I should start out by saying I have always been a leader and naturally Dominant. However, that is not to say that my first foray into the BDSM culture was all that stellar. Matter of fact, looking back on it, it was kind of ridiculous. But it makes for one hell of a story...

I was about 21 at the time and worked as a manager for a hotel restaurant. Normally I worked the morning shift but on this day I was asked to cover the evening shift. This change in schedule threw off my routine and by 2 p.m. I was up, dressed in my suit and ready for work. However, I still had two hours until I had to be there. So after much debate, I drove in to work. Well, I drove to work, rather. Instead of making it there early, I got sidetracked and pulled into a strip club near my hotel. I'd never been there and the name of the place, The Crazy Lady, should have been an indication of what I was getting myself into.

As I walked into the club and my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I looked through the smoke and realized I was going to have to start drinking if I was going to enjoy this. Seriously, alcohol was definitely going to be needed here. With the rare exception, all of the girls working at the time were definitely on the C-team in the stripper line up. There were three stages and three girls dancing on each. On the stage in the far back corner was something that I can only hope was a woman. Although I will wager a pretty penny a fur-covered man-thing would be closer to the truth. On the far left stage was the stripper who had gotten her boob job on an installment plan. The right breast looked fantastic, but the smaller left one still needed to be purchased. And then in center stage we had the star of the show. She was tall, blonde and had all of her teeth. Unfortunately she also had several unexplainable bruises, track marks in her arms and the doped-up look only heavy drug users get.

So there they were, three sirens just like in Homer's Odyssey. I sat down at a table near center stage and ordered a beer and a shot. The time it took for the drinks to arrive seemed like an eternity and when they finally got there I quickly ordered another round. I shooed away the first few vultures that asked if I wanted a dance but when "She" came over it was another matter altogether. 

Now to be fair, she was wearing a school girl outfit and I happen to be a sucker for that sort of thing. She also had long dark hair, shapely legs and quite the nice rack. Maybe it was the alcohol in my system or the extreme lack of competition in the club, but either way, cupid saw fit to give me an erection as a way of greeting her.

She sat in my lap and told me her name. For the sake of her honor I will just call her Crazy. 

"Care to buy me a drink? I'd like a tequila."

"Sure, why not," I said in my most casual manner.

I ordered her a drink and we made some small talk for the next few minutes. A few songs go by before she asked if I would like a dance and I nodded enthusiastically. The dance was quite good. She did the appropriate amount of grinding, swaying, tit-jiggling and all the other things that men come to love in the strip club. Through it all, however, I never once took my eyes off of her nor did I lift my hand to touch her. I think it was this amount of self-control that clued her in to what kind of man I really was.

When the song ended she sat back on my lap and cuddled up against me. She then looked up at me and asked if I was into BDSM? 

"Sure," I said.

"Oh really? Are you a sub or a Dom? What do you like?" 

I thought about it a moment and said, "I'm a Dom of course. And I like all sorts of things, spanking, hair pulling, bondage, toys... ummm.. yea.. all kinds of dirty things..." I was full of shit. I had no idea what I was talking about, but I knew for a fact I wasn't a sub. And I was reasonably certain that I would enjoy all those things I mentioned. More importantly, by trailing off at the end, I appeared more mysterious and it left room for me to figure out more things later.

She practically cooed with delight. "That's sooo great. I'm a sub and am looking for a strong Dom to control me. I'm into..." I can't actually type what she was into because the list would be endless. Suffice it to say a string of obscenities left her mouth and I am pretty sure the phrase "Bag of gophers" was in there somewhere.

Again I nod with psuedo-understanding, still not quite sure what I am getting myself into. I looked at the time and realized I had to go. She jotted down her phone number and told me to call her when I got off of work. I said my good-byes and drove to the restaurant. When I got there I was greeted by my boss who was covering the morning shift for me while I cover the evening shift. Unfortunately, when he saw me, my tie was crooked, I reeked of booze and stripper and I had clearly been drinking.

"What the fuck have you been doing," He asked.

"I'm not gonna lie. I was at a titty-bar. But don't worry. I'm ready to do this."

"Yea, that's not gonna happen. Go home and sleep it off. I'll just work a double today. But you owe me." 

It really was that easy. He knew I was the best employee they had so there was no real point in lecturing or firing me. I drove the entire way home with a big smile. Once at home I called up my buddy Nick and told him to come over. We had to devise a game plan. When he got to my house, I explained the situation to him and we spent the next several hours on the internet looking up BDSM and proper protocol. God bless the internet, it has always been so helpful in the corruption of youth.

It had gotten late and it was about the time I needed to call Crazy. Nick sat beside me ready to offer advice or smack the phone out of my hand if I started to get into trouble.

I dialed. The phone rang. She answered.

"Hello," She said, "Who's this?"

"It's me from the club. You told me to call when I got out of work. So I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat."

"No not really."

"Oh, well then do you want to get a drink or something."

"Nah."

Great, things were not turning out the way I had hoped. It appears I once again fell for the oldest trick in the book. The "I'm a kinky stripper and I would love for you to do naughty things to me later" routine. But just as I was about to give up she spoke up.

"I actually just got off work too and don't feel like going out. But you can come over if you want."

"That sounds great. I'll be over in a little bit." She gave me her address and we hung up. For the next several moments, Nick and I congratulated each other on a job well done. I hopped in my piece of shit car and drove to Crazy's place.

I got there in about 20 minutes and she ran outside to greet me. She jumped in my arms and began kissing and hugging all over me. I knew I had to take charge of the situation right away so I pinched her nipple, slapped her as and told her to get inside. She squealed with delight and ran inside, leaving me to follow.

We went inside and I sat down on a chair and she climbed in my lap.

"I haven't had a chance to shower from work. Do you mind if I take a quick one," she asked.

"No that's fine. I prefer girls to be clean for me anyway."

"Well you know, you could always give me a bath instead," she said.

Now I am not a fool. I will always choose to see a girl naked over sitting in a chair and waiting. So I took her by the hand and off to the bathroom we went. I watched her strip for me as the water began to fill the tub. I made her do all the things I read about on the net-- stand still, turn around, bend over, spread her legs, spread her ass, etc. When the tub was full she climbed in and I began washing her. My hands roamed over her body exploring it. My fingers pinched her nipples again and examined the tightness of her holes. Then she started splashing me. I knew right away she was testing me. She wanted to know what I would do if she misbehaved. I was at a loss. What could I do. My mind raced and she kept splashing me. The smile was fading from her face.. I was losing her. 

Soooo I did the only thing I could think of. I palmed her face and dunked her under water. She was caught completely off guard and went under with a splash. With her arms and legs akimbo, she splashed and fought to right herself, but I kept her under until I was sure she learned her lesson. When she finally came up and gasped in air, she had to sputter a few times and cough before she was able to say something.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

I grabbed her chin and made her look at me. "Behave," is all I said to her. I held her chin a moment longer and then let her go. The smile she had a moment ago crept back on her face and we continue the bath in peace. When she was clean, Crazy stepped out of the tub and I toweled her off. She lead me to her bedroom and as the door opened, my jaw hit the floor.

It looked like a porn store had exploded. There were sexual devices and implements of torture as far as the eye could see. In the far corner was a bag that looked like it was squirming and I can only guess that it was the bag of gophers she mentioned earlier. 

"Is all this stuff for you or for me?"

"It's for me silly," she said. "Now fuck me. Fuck me hard."

She bent over the bed and cuffed her hands behind her back, strapped a ball-gag to her mouth and tied her ankles apart. I armed myself with a riding crop in one hand and a dildo with a spinning head in the other hand. For the next hour or so I spent the time beating her and fucking, beating her and fucking her. All the while she moaned through the ball gag. Eventually, I grew tired and threw down my weapons. I removed the gag and pulled her head back by her hair. 

"What do you want now slut?"

"Mmmm I want you to fuck me. That felt sooo good Daddy. Give it to me."

I smiled and let go of her hair. I stood behind her out of sight. She assumed it was to build anticipation, but in reality I was back there catching my breath. I put on a condom and began fucking her from behind. She pushed back onto me with equal force and soon we were going at it.

"Slap my ass," she said.

So I did. I slapped her ass.

"No, slap it harder she said.

So I frowned and slapped it harder.

"Goddamn it beat my ass," she screamed.

And before I knew it I was punching her ass screaming why won't you die. Probably not the most romantic thing in the world to shout as you as punch someone, but she didn't seem to mind. 

Another hour went by and I was close to exhaustion. It had been a long day. I pulled out of her and unloaded all over her ass and back. At that point I didn't even have the energy to fit off a new-born kitten. Yet somehow I managed to unbind her and collapse on the bed. We laid there a moment breathing heavily. Next thing I knew she grabbed me by the hair, pulled me to her giant tits and began sobbing.

"Great," I thought, "I just raped a girl. Now I'm going to jail."

But before long her sobs had subsided and she was singing my praises. I was the best she'd ever had. No one had ever used her like that before. Everyone else had always been too scared. Little did she know it wasn't skill that made me do those things, but a complete lack of understanding and the kind of teaching only the internet can provide. 

Eventually I gather up my clothing and dignity. We said our goodbyes for the evening and I left. I was a little wiser, very tired and pretty sure I enjoyed most of what just happened. I saw her a few more times after that and she was the first girl I could actually call my sub... 

but those are other stories....

Popsicle Starfish Entry #2

So we now know I don't deal well with men pretending to be women. It turns out, I also don't deal well with whores. Not women who like to be called sluts and whores, or women who are slaves and subs, but actual whores--street-walkers, women of the night, prostitutes. So this is my story about the army of whores...

My buddy Jack and I were on a weekend pass and up in good ol San Fran. A city more vile and evil than Vegas could ever be. After getting drunk and wasting time at strip-clubs we moved on to greener pastures. Sure we could have gotten laid at the titty bar, but seriously, if they were only giving half-assed dances, I shudder to think how many teeth they would have used while giving blow jobs. Hell, for all I know they would have gotten distracted and started chewing. But I am getting off topic... anyway, we wandered the city until we saw a sign. It was a simple sign. It read, "Hot tub and Massages Inside" For those of you who have never been drunk,  the offer of a massage and hot tub are amazing at two in the morning.

In retrospect, I should have realized that the only places that offer massages and hot tubs at two in the morning are whore houses, but I was young and optimistic. We went into the establishment and met an asian women who spoke very poor "engrish." I don't mean to sound like a racist, but I do want you to understand how poorly she grasped the language. Anyway, it was late and the only ones available for a massage were her and some other cute asian who also didn't speak engrish. Before I could say anything, Jack paid for the cute one, stripped to his boxers and was ushered away to a private room.

Since I didn't go in there for sex, I figured the old broad might know a thing or two about massage so I wasn't too disappointed. I went to a room besides Jack's, stripped and got under a towel. The Madam came in and began giving me a pretty good massage. I didn't see a hot tub anywhere, but maybe the massage came first. As I began to relax and let her work her nimble fingers into my muscles, the trickery began. 

She asked if i wanted a bj and to fuck her. It would only cost $250. I said no, I just want a massage. Not to be deterred she countered with, a $200 offer and just a bj. Again I said no and she kept massaging. A few minutes passed and she offered me a fuck for $160. Now at this point, I think she might have suspected that I didn't understand her words so instead of saying fuck, she motioned me to look at her and she went through a wide array of pantomime showing me all the various things one could do while fucking. As eager and descriptive as she was, I had to decline. 

Some more massaging took place and our cat and mouse game of money for sex continued until she said she would do it all for $60. At this point another part of me kicked in. No longer was tired me in control, but rather the shrewd negotiator. I talked a whore down from $250 to $60. That's quite the deal. I'd be a fool not to take this bargain, wouldn't I? So I set out the terms of the agreement. I would give her $60 and she would suck me, fuck me and basically do whatever I wanted for an hour. She nodded eagerly and shooed me off to an ATM machine. 

I grabbed my ATM card and walked proudly to the machine. When I got there however, I had enough time to think about what I was doing. I realized 1) I didn't want to fuck a whore for fear my penis would fall off and 2) I sure as shit am not gonna pay to fuck a 60 year-old whore because realistically she should be paying me. So I walked back to the Madam and said no deal. At this point she became enraged and said, "You go now. You leave. You go now." She stormed out of the room and left me to dress. Although I didn't get in a hot tub I still got a pretty good massage so all in all it was worth it.

As I left the room, I saw her in the hallway and asked her where Jack was. She pantomimed that Jack was fucking the other girl in the next room. She then became repetitive and told me to leave again. She stormed off and I pounded on the next door.

"Jack," I said, "Are you fucking a whore?"

No answer.

"Jack! Goddamn it, are you fucking a whore?"

I heard a muffled shout, "What? No, I am not fucking a whore. I got a massage and am now taking a shower. Why?"

"No reason. But ummm we gotta go. We gotta go now."

"Alright, give me a minute."

As I waited facing the door, the Madam got the drop on me and grabbed my shoulder. Unfortunately for her my Army training kicked in and before she knew it, she was bent at the waist and her arm was locked up. I told her not to sneak up on me and let her go. This was another mistake in a series of mistakes for the evening. No sooner did I let go than did she start screaming.  Not only was she screaming, but she started hissing and scratching at me. Then all the doors in the hallway opened up and whores started coming out of the wood works. It appears I had angered the queen and they were called to defend the hive. 

I squared off to the angry army of whores, shoulders set, feet apart and fists at the ready. Now under normal circumstances I would never hit a woman, but this was getting out of hand quickly and I had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn't going to be a normal circumstance. 

As the whores closed in on me. Jack opened up the door and looked around.

"Good God," Jack shouted, "What the fuck did you do? Tell me you didn't kill a whore. Jesus Christ man, did you just kill a whore?"

"No I didn't kill a whore. I'll explain it all later, but we have got to get out. Now."

Without any further words Jack and I stood back to back, an army of angry asian whores surrounding us, protecting their queen. Some hissed and spit at us. Others scratched at air. A few even tried to bite us, surely wanting to infect us with some whore disease. But Jack and I stood our ground, pushing and shoving our way out. Swinging warning shots to the masses. As we made our way to the exit, we gave one final shove and ran.

I'm not proud of the fact that I ran, but I suppose I would be less proud in jail explaining why I had to beat down a mob of angry women. I explained to Jack what happened and he just nodded and understood.

So yea... that was the time I fought off an army of whores.

I should say up front that I know all whores aren't as disease ridden as rabies riddled recess monkeys, but I am pretty sure these ones were. I also want to say I meant no disrespect to any whore who are reading this as I am sure you are all fine upstanding women. 

Oh and if there are typos, well fuck off... it's late.

Maybe next time I'll tell about my first adventure in BDSM....

Popsicle Starfish Entry #1

Most people tell stories from beginning to end. But I plan on telling stories using no real timeline at all. Some of these happened years ago and some within the last few weeks. All the stories are true and they only use minor embellishments, none of which are about my physical size or stamina. Those aspects of me are things of legend anyway. And now on to our feature presentation...

Hidden:

Shortly after my break-up with my ex I decided it was time to go back out there and tame the wilds. See if I still had what it took to make women come running. However, I was also working non-stop, doing photography and working on another degree, so time was something I didn't have.

Fortunately there is the internet. So I went online, found an adult dating site, and waited. Eventually a woman sent me a message and asked if I wanted to play. I said sure and we set up plans to meet at her apartment. She texted me her address and off I went. Prior to arriving though, she told me she was moving so the apartment was mostly empty and all she had was a blanket for us to lay on. She also told me she would leave the door unlocked and I could just walk in.

As I walked in I noticed a bottle of lube and a blanket in the entry way. I immediately got a text that told me to strip and begin masturbating and she would walk in and be surprised. I would then wrestle her to the ground and have my way with her. Now I know I've been out of the game for a while, but right away my spidey senses were going nuts. Something wasn't right.

I lied and texted her I was doing it but she called my bluff. That told me she was in the apartment watching me. Sooo I went on an expedition to find her. All the rooms were dark and empty. I snuck from one room to the next like a sex-deprived ninja. I stuck my head in one closet and nearly soiled myself. Granted that is very un-Dom-like, but still I saw this giant black trench coat and for a moment I thought I was about to become a murder statistic. Fortunately, it wasn't anyone and I didn't soil myself. I gave up looking and walked out of the apartment.

I left the door open though and hid around a corner. When the door closed, I knew she was in there and had been watching me. I got a text that asked me to come back up. I should have walked away but curiosity got the better of me.

I walked back in and began my search anew. This time I also checked the bathrooms and there I found my prize. As I ducked my head into the room and turned on the lights I saw her. 

Well in this case, she turned out to be he. And he was a large black man in all spandex looking like a frightened child. Well if frightened children were 6 foot 5 dressed in spandex and had erections. Nonetheless, the game was over and I had solved the mystery. I left without saying anything and he had the good graces to remain silent. I may not have gotten laid, but on the plus side I left with my starfish intact too.

Maybe next time I will share the story of how I fought off an army of asian whores...

So I am thinking of starting a blog... but instead of just rushing into the whole blogging thing, I believe I will just enter things into this here journal.

I was going to call my blog starfish popsicle. I got that name from an American Dad episode. Not that I watch American Dad, but a friend of mine told me about the episode. Long story short, the son got a wedgy.. the dad was trying to talk to him and the son said, "Sorry dad, can't stay and chat. I have to go put a popsicle on the ol starfish."

So the thought of using a popsicle to ease ass pain amused me. And naming a blog something that random would be my own private joke.

On another note... I probably shouldn't blog at 4 in the morning. One, I can't spell anyway so my spelling will probably be worse the later it gets. Two, I will probably ramble. And Three, what if I say something very un-Dom-like. Dear God? What if someone realizes that I am human? Granted a human with remarkable self control and control of others, but human nonetheless. Ah well, it is a risk I am willing to take. Fortune favors the brave and a coward dies many times before his death and all that good stuff.

Speaking of... if anyone can tell me where the quote "Cowards die many times before their death" comes from I will be most impressed. Although I will be more impressed that someone took the time to read all of this.

But fear not the next journal entry will be a story about my voyages into sexual deviancy