sero8

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	About sero8 I am an Enigma What do extremes merging look like while still retaining their true nature?? Sero! I am set ablaze by an engorged intellect. I like to experience all people, all things in their most vibrant state. I do not like mediocrity. I am balanced and fearless. I want nothing(and seem to have too much of everything!) except time, focus, energy.

How am I?
(an answer to the oft asked question)

Recently, as some know, I have been moving in a stuttering waltz of progress from a long illness. How am I? Average. Getting better, with much internal metamorphosis left to attain my previous graceful self.But...

I did a chair dance today(you know how it goes!) . I had no work(school) due to snow. Somehow, I never lose that pre-pube enthusiasm for a day off in the snow. Sure, the walking was slower than previous years, and I put on about 5 more layers than I normally would have, but I was out! Free! I took a wonderful 2 hour drive and 4 coffees later, I was ready to go home.

I was most pleased that I allowed myself to be goofy enough to do the chair dance. Chronic pain had bled much of hte sense of humor out of me, which I imagine will return as the body heals. Now, I look at my home emai and surprise! A delay tomorrow!

Excuse me-I can't type and chair dance at the same time.l

KIKKI

(The English alphabetification)

There is a girl, pre-pubescent by our standards, but of the age of maturity in some of the other, matriarchal societies. The independence of my fire-haired femme is unexpected; demure and just short of comical, she moves through life joyfully, but can snap on an attitude as one flicks the fingers. However, she iupholds the utmost in manners and etiquette until the situation deteriorates out of control. At that point, the cage is flung open, and the beast is rampaging with little hope of finding a tranquilizer dart nearby!

Her stories....to come!

Enthusiasm
(That's why we have Cheerleaders)

I have a bit of enthusiasm, when I can orchestrate a scheme, chocolate or vanilla, good or nefarious. So it was off, Christmas Eve morning to deliver the booty to my mariner mates at the local grocery store(the seafood department), where they were on fish fry duty since 4:30 am! I wanted to purchase a Box O' Joe to accompany my cookies. Today, however was the weather medley: sleet, rain, ice, cold, making my travels just a hint unpleasant. Or it WOULD have made them such...

so I have my cookies, and cash in one pocket, enthusiasm in the other, ready to leave down the steps when(cartoon fast noise) whoosh! I am seated in slush on the driveway. Luckily, my rubber spine bounced down each of 5 concrete steps, and my rubber head thought it would be fun to try as well. ICE! After a minute of evaluation, I get up, go to the car, and realize that my windows need to melt, so I turn on the car and go to the trunk for the ice scraper. however....

As I push the door shut, it locks on me! Christmas Demons?? With my sopping gloves, I get my spare house keys, enter, get my spare car keys and try #2 Joe run. Did you know the car thinks that if it is running, you're inside? So the beeper didn't work, nor did the key lock. Passenger side attempt: made tricky by the 18" clearance between the door and the house. I opened the door, and realized that I should take out that enthusiasm from the pocket,because I need all the linearity I can get. Setting it near the cookies, I re-enact my You Tube contortionistas. First, the head goes in. Then, the right shoulder, then the left.
I push in enough that my hips are u to the door, like a Car JAWS found me swimming along and decided to snack. I was in enough that I could reach the handle and push the driver's side open. Did I mention that I just "bounced" down stone steps? Yes thank you, and it did hurt.

So then what? Slither from the crevice, put back all the spare keys, get dry gloves, crawl down the steps, get the Joe, play coffe elf at the grocery store, get hugs, move on to the day....a skewed success!

Next time I'll do it with Terminator focus, and leave enthusiasm to the cheerleader. They go through that stuff like Elvis did bacon.

Pets

I have a human and a parrot pet. Actually, both of them are my loves, in the cerebral sense that one is passionate about another being. The bird, Sake, is my only housemate, however, and almost never sleeps in his cage. My human...when he's bold, he's BOLD!

A metamorphosis is priority #1 - but lest you think you nned to read this holding a can of Raid(Kafka bows), It is a change and further growth along the same path.

I think I am healing into an incredible and more vital version of me....more SERO than Sero....

more to come...

If I may...

A Universal dominant demand from all the CM subs(or anyone willing to give themselves):

Please send positive thoughts/energies my way. You don't have to "pray" - just think of me.

Thank you in advance,

Sero

A tribute to a cosmically, infinitely important day...

888

6/22/07

The first time I met Infinity,

I sprained my brain,

Never to be healed again.

Just like the hamstring,

Pulled in vain

By running like a coal-fed train

In league with diesels

Onthe main.

Still I persist,

I barely maintain

Composure.

Like an endless rain,

I saturate with

Mental pain

Truth-

A solid sturdy chain

Links us all like a prison gang.

The first time I drew Infinity,

I craved a permanent skin stain,

A declaration of the reign

Of cosmic forces.

As ink courses,

Injecting like a needled vein

A vibratoed, hummed refrain.

A wordless song I sing again,

Of the light and life I might attain

Beauty-

Draping like a veil

over visage of a princess

or the

greedy bestial teeth.

Thoughts daringly create

The altered vision state.

The first time I carved Infinity,

Our destinys led from the ?sane?

To a hazy world of pleasure-pain.

A warm red snow, a cold black rain

And in all moments

Timelessness.

I can?t explain

The pure perfection

As we grow,

Entangled so.

But neither swaying tea rose bush

Or bamboo trellis, stark and straight

Are such a sight

As intertwined,

The thorny stems and reedy lines.

Strength-

Steadfast in the wicked winds

That torture many weather vanes.

Height that neither could attain

Alone.

Local boys need apply!

New tasks abound!

A bit of sweat will be your destiny- but is it the sweat of toil, or hte perspiration of anticipation???

Miracle on Kingsbridge Road

....where the infamous TES Fest was held this past weekend. I attended with just a bit of hesitance, as I would gauge my Kundalini at about 80% of Max. Still, I was doused in leather, aroused by the aural stimuli(aural sex?!) through hotel room walls, and peaked by the picks of peaked prone patients enduring a PVC-clad pelvic exam! We had our own Ringling Brothers in our room, but much fun was created in the large dungeon, in the halls, in the elevator.....

...and the miracle of being with the Infinite Pet

...in public!

...for his first BDSM event!

I know the universe has great and decadent plans for me!

The Seven Body Orgasm

As I have had much reading time lately, I indulged in the book my Infinite Pet gave me(the book "found him" he says). It enlightens me about Kundalini energy also known as the "Vital force" A spiralling vortex, it can move into your body, or it can be pushed out from the body. To be arrow-direct:

There are seven bodies:

Physical

Emotion

Intellectual

Intuitive

Will/Spirit

Soul

Divine

Each body has 7 facets, of one of each of the above types. Therefore there are 49 individual energy patterns in the body, each of which is capable of receiving/transmitting/cleansing through Kundalini.

Unfortunately, my physical body on the physical level is weakened. Still I have 48 energizable, vital layers within.
I simply have to learn to use these energies to heal, to create, to seduce to telepathize!
In between all of the appointments, I WILL find time to continue the events, the photos, the poetry, the cacao adventures...

Let the erotic games continue!

Gentle(and less supple) Readers:

Please have patience as I have some all-encompassing life issues to handle which have totally consumed my focus. I have seen one resolve miraculously, and the others should follow just as positively. Your patience in journal readings and photo viewings is greatly appreciated.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Sero

CARNIVORA

2/1/08

Writhing fluidity,

stretching on the floor

Unaware of sundial shade.

A tasteful helpless score

appearing in her sight.

A silent sigh slips forth.

Her muscles energize,

Her fangs prepare to gore

The distant breathing flesh.

His body is her store

of thixotropic blood.

Like Vlad Impaling lore,

nails divide the skin.

A thumb, then lesser four

spears assign the roles:

the prey and Carnivore.

The kiss-two bloody pricks,

from which blood starts to pour-

evokes an oral dance.

Red tide bathes Red shore

From drop to bloody sea,

drips more...

and more...

"Are you a Princess?" he asked.

Yes I am. Reigning in people in the land of Saran.

Don't get too serious Sero. Check out the new photo!!

The latest....title unknown....

I love with a love I never had known

I cherish this place, I call it my home.

Two loving entities under one dome.

Unexplained energies echo like OM

Parallel paths like the teeth on a comb

Intertwine.

Past the time of the carving on stone.

...Prestidigitating Infinity...

Gentle(and harsher, too) Readers:

Please excuse the absence of letters, as I search the great Cosmos for worse and for better. I try to compose my old "888" poem, but it's more than a lyric; it writes like a tome. I persist, and I share, with those wide aware. Friends old and friends new give my days much ado, but the startling, shocking, revealing event, which is still cloistered much like a nun in a tent, will be so incredible, so blissful, its dreadable, for it could be the apex of life until now, or a worry that pits a large trench in my brow. I wait on the verge, for unknown to emerge...

stay tuned...in 2008.

A vertical Infinity!

Current Notes:

Edgar Cayce
Kundalini
Oneirogens
Animal communication

*my intellectual pursuits*

The Scorpion
Nauli churning

*my physical pursuits*

A healing infinite goddess

*my spiritual pursuit*

"The Boys"
Infinite Pet
Renaissance slave
Photographer...
more of the same

*my erotic pursuits*

Lessons

"Hello all, please sit down so we can begin"

(whines)"...But MS Sero..."

(commanding) "NOW...Let us begin. I believe we all have projects to do. Where is your equipment, young man?

"I, um, left it at home, but waitwaitwait! I was reeeeaaaaalllly busy last night uh, 'cause my friends came over and we started downloading tunes."

"I see. Apparently your priorities are not focused on Sero lessons. You are expelled. This pattern of negligence will not be tolerated."

(A 'waaah' Lucy would be proud of) "Ms Sero!(stompstomp) That's not fair!(stompstompstomp) "You won't listen to me!(compulsory fist pound and head shake) "I'm trying to tell you(stomp) why (stomp) I (stomp) didn't do my duty (stompstompstompstompstompstomp!)

(A mocking smile unfolds) "You don't have to explain yourself. You simply have to make decisions and LIVE with them. This is a school for the gifted and talented. I trust your IQ is sufficient that you are aware of your own choices?

"Yes, but..."

"So there is no debate here. Your chose on several consecutive days NOT to be prepared. Therefore, I cannot teach you. I can only teach the prepared mind and willing soul."

"I AM prepared! Please! Listen to me!"

"I am speaking now. When I finish, you will be dismissed. First, your abuse of the pronouns I and me is ostentatious and anathema to your role as submissive. The True submissive arranges his/her thoughts to put the Self somewhere in the middle of the Priority Bell Curve. Sometimes the Sub Self gets Prime attention, and other times, you must wait until others are satisfied before you consider you own needs. You, disobedient one, ALways put your needs first. That is why you are no longer welcome."

(slams the table with his palms) "You don't know what wonderful things I could do! I'd be the best Shoe Shine Boy EVER! Better than them!"(thumb pointed at some other boys engaged in various tasks)

"If you are referring to my Infinite Pet, then I would counter your feeble argument with his impeccable history of promptness, quality service, propriety and Plain Old Devotion! IP, you can stop nibbling my inner thigh to tell our unqualified aspirant why you are my favorite way to quench the libidinous fire?"

"Mediocrity is not tolerated. Obedience is a state of mind."

"Ah, spoken with the total honesty only a nude kneeling specimen with a perfect ass could declare."

(looks toward the kitchen)
Slave R, before you go down to do the delicates, could you please tell the failure why
you are cherished?"

"Well, I would guess that your kind and generous spirit moves me to give my complete attention to you."

"You make me blush! But do I ever have to beat you? Correct your work? Admonish your negligence or tardiness?"

"I don't recall any instances, no."

"Because you are always thinking 18 steps ahead about how to please me."

"Why yes!"

"Including the latest tithing with the vibrator Spot, which is aiding my lower back currently, but soon will find other parts of my anatomy to sending humming!"

"I knew you would love it."

...and so with neck drooped forward, the unwilling unteachable shuffles morosely into the murky misty rain soaked night.

Hello again!

Sorry for the absense, but WTD!(Work to do)

Random thoughts:

I am always impressed with the sophistication in our version of little Prague. In this "hunky" town(not because of the buff semi-nude guys; rather, a term of endearment for those of middle-European descent), the beer-drinking, sex-laden male-centered dynamic flows like the Hoover dam. It is a sign of pride to have a wife-beater T-shirt, many proudly comparing ketchup stains as they sample the haute couture of local pizza emporiums. It is a land of uncluttered thought; TV reigns supreme;the official spice is butter and salt. In fact, our local college had a pierogi sale in lieu of the semi-annual cookie sale. Apparently, potato and cheese go better with Bud. It was even declared with the fanfare of the coronation of the future King William by one of my male co-workers, that of course I've made my own pierogies!-a statement in which the substitution of "pierogi" with " muffin" would forever brand you a flaming drag queen!

I don't mean to sound snobbish; I like the simple values and community atmosphere where I live. I have, however, seen an array of diversity, cultural, religious, linguistic and otherwise. I evolve quickly toward Infinity!

In a rare encounter with a child the other day,
I found one who would be allowed to live in Seroland. He came up to me, all 3 feet of him beaming with confidence.

"Hi, I'm Adam"

"Hello"

"I love you!" and with a pat on the shoulder, he took off down the aisle to tell his mom of his impending romance. His mom apologized for him being "too demonstrative" as though there is such a thing.

"No I appreciate his sweet nature, well-behaved in public."

At that stature, he obviously was fascinated with the shoes.

These kids are like mortgages-a 20-year investment, but then its YOURS! Who knows how many shoes I'll have for him to polish by then!

Once again, I am on the quest for a grand new scene. If anyone has information on the Green man, or on wiccan holidays, please send!

I also found the Tabasco web site. I saw my Ichor there-the infinite component of my blood-a 1 gallon jug of Garlic Tabasco! Think of the situation I can generate with a mug of acid pepper mash flowing in the veins!!

The Miracle of Life

(Ursula?s Grace)

8/29/07

A: the naked man

At the bottom-

Mounds and pounds

Weigh down the man.

A flattened stain,

A stony face in puckered pain

On white concrete.

A panicked putrid pyramid!

A mockery of anatomy

Obscures the only breath released

And drowns the sound

Of hearty thumps

Pumping like a flat tire limps

Over rocky highway bumps.

B: the uniforms

Untangling the knotted limbs,

Not of logs by beaver toil,

But arms and legs in rigor coil.

Tossed, like trash, into the truck.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Like fire?s dust after the blaze,

Chimneys exhale foul haze.

There was the One.

A single glowing brick of coal

Unextinguished by the mist.

Raspy gasps and hollow screams

Echoed in the deadly crypt.

Holding with a mother?s grip

On a baby, born but still.

Air enough to hold his will

Steadfast,

Passing child in cradle.

Their heads were spinning like a dreidel.

Eyes surmise the miracle:

A man who proudly preferred life,

But so near death!

He sees its claws,

Its fangs,

They channel bloody locks.

He felt the heat of life retreating.

Breath, exhausted from this shell,

A ghostly child form in his arms

Beyond a resurrection spell.

C: the saving grace

She rushes in to testify

To the magic of this tale.

By the lifting of the veil,

Her face of raw reality

Is frozen by the holy grail.

Quickly hiding boundless joy,

A stern façade tries to replace

Like right hand in a left hand glove.

Her fingers hold his sacred face.

The man-her kindred spirit love,

A hidden human treasure chest

A head to kiss hers in the dark,

An eye to wink anonymous,

A hand to hold beneath the sheet.

A crude ore ready to be carved,

Her secret, worthy of the noose.

Alive! And breathing at her breast!

D: the gates

A man unnamed ? bar code brand

For her experimental games.

The only way to make her claim,

To save him from a certain death.

In Chaos, Order smoothly steals

And snickers for its little theft.

When all is stripped from human souls,

A heart swollen with love is left.

A Lovely Labor Day

Produce abounds on labor day! My domestic slave and I took a tour of local farms, first at a farmer's market, and then at an apple orchard. It was so amazing to be able to smell RAW vegetables! They perfumed the car, with Eau de Nature, I believe.

At the orchard, we were speaking with the proprietor about apples as well as a variety of other topics. I didn't realize there were over 100 varieties of apples, though most of them are patented, so they are inaccessible to the small farmer. I tried a brand new one-yet unnamed, but very hard, and a bit sweet. Good for baking. I really love the tart, hard apples, sans skin, which will be coming later in the month. The grannies, the spies-a papilliary pursuit.

The best thing about the orchard is the "what year is this?" attitude. He simply grows and picks them, puts them in baskets, and opens the door to the barn. There is a money box, now bolted, but at one time simply sitting on the counter. Trusting that you'll pay for the apples! I love it!

Awkward Conversation

It was not good; it was not bad. It was an awkward conversation. One of my co-workers approached me yesterday after being out for a year for hip replacement surgery. Hellos aside, he began to make small talk, unsuccessfully, as you will read.

"You look like you lost weight"

"No, I didn't" (I think people equate losing weight with other glorious feats like winning the lottery)

"You look thinner"

"Thank you" (an effort to shoot the limping conversation between the temples)

"What do you do?"

"Nothing-I'm not trying to lose weight. I do what I always do"

"Well, you must be doing something"

(Like the Terminator, it just won't die!)

"No, I'm not, so I do not feel complimented."
(and spoken ever so cheerfully)
"How are you?"

"Good. Say, Did you ever see those filmstrips I kept with the files?" (Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Real 'blow off the dust antique store treasures' film reels!)

"I think they're gone"

"Gone?!? What happened" (Please note that the conversation started at the vocal level of
a funeral director in church, and instantly escalated to the wild wounded cry of a Hannibal Lechterized victim-in the process of feeling her tongue being bitten out of her mouth!)

"Yes, a woman from the library came and took all of the old media."

(This next part is classic-arms outstretched like Jesus in those pictures where he welcomes the lepers. He had a look of childlike despair, perhaps similar to the "No Santa Claus" bomb! Or better yet-the perplexed whimper of Cindy Lou Who asking the Grinch why the Christmas Tree has to go up the chimney)

"Why? Why would they do that? Tell me, what good reason is there for throwing away films?"

(In a calm Yogic tone)
"I don't know. They were clearing out and updating. I think I can find the woman in charge..."

"No, it's too late. That's a sin. I can't believe it!" (Still shaken, confused and angered that a kind and loving Yahweh would allow such misery.)

"OK, well I guess I'll see you around."

(Cordial farewells)

Alternative Ending:

If I thought it necessary to be unedited and I didn't care about my employment status, and if the sarcasm meter happened to be broken, I would have said:

"Yes, she took the films that pre-dated the Brady bunch, since any information on it would be comically unhelpful to absolutely incorrect. Perhaps if you spent a bit of time and money on learning aerospace technology, like a DVD, instead of on hair replacement, which still looks like the elastic band around your head has sprouted a hair garden, then you wouldn't have to worry that these cumbersome 20 pound reels have gone to the plastic recycling afterlife!"

I'm so kind, having reserved my venom for you, gentle readers.

RAW

Today is a raw, unashamed, blatently ME day. I'm surprised I haven't launched more sarcasm grenades, though. I guess my Yogic nature is evolving a more civilized demeanor.

I was ferocious this morning. I was on the edge, not angry, not sad, not volatile, just AWARE! AWAKE! ALIVE! It was(and is) a hypersensitive day. As I had a road trip, I had about 3 driving hours to meditate. Here's the revelation:

At my most stripped raw persona, I am a Smiegel-like creature, notoriously energetic and mischievous to destructive and evil, depending on the circumstances. In my most enlightened state, I can be the still sage, the statue shrine spewing forth cosmic knowledge by divining the energy of the universe through my lips. I have had very limited time in either extreme. I usually linger somewhere between, but I need both the Id-driven animal and the detached spiritualist to make me complete, and wonderful and charming as most of you know me. (Charming? Of course I am! OK, there was that one time...)

But it was beneficial to go to those places in my head. I am bombarded with so many energies throughout the day that to find my own presence, my path, my history in the nutshell of a Ford Explorer(I didn't take MY car for work trips, naturally!) was exhilarating.

Followed by a trip to my Wegman's...and Starbucks....I think a sigh is in order!

Full Moon-Lunar Eclipse-A recent Infinite Pet abduction-first day of School.

I have been pitifully devoid of sleep due to the inherently stimulating nature of my life this weekend. Nonetheless, I manage to be moderately productively, yet infinitely energetic, and if I may self-compliment, adoringly pleasant.

So my writing is one of the outlets for the excess energy in need of receptacle. I shall post it when complete, but it is 2 lines(taunting me like the Infinite Pet when he craves a severe ass thrashing and talks about pink things).

I was particularly proud, though, of completing such a succulent work up until the last 2 mystery lines. I was at Chick's diner in Scranton, drinking the cup o' sludge they fondly advertise. I couldn't concentrate because the nearby party was not using a "2 foot voice"; rather, they were using their "colliseum voice" and bartering banal body part jokes. Time to move.

I soared southward and landed at the Waffle House, a brighter, cheerier establishment with only 3 monks for customers, so I settled into the booth and continued the IV coffee. The chef was apparently bored, so he came over to see what I was doing. Reading Writing, maybe some 'Rithmetic later, but...

"Did that hurt?"

Not many hours pass between the echoing sympathy pains from wary onlookers.

"I will preface this statement by saying that I have an unusually high pain tolerance. no."

"I've never seen that before"

"No, it is unique"

I passed on the "and you should see the matching trio below!"

Friendly, but vanilla.

The couple that came in next was not loud, but they were sitting in the booth next to me, talking about ordering. I don't know why, but his teasing jests of "I want hashbrowns. I want to eat hashbrowns from your body. I want you to be covered in hashbrowns, so that I can eat them from your naked body!"
were particularly amusing.

I wish I had some pithy way to integrate all these things into some faulous quilt of narration, but I'm just updating today.

I'll post the work when it is finished!

The Bitch Slave

Did you ever browse the profiles, scanning through the adjective-less data, looking for something, anything, (in Cockney accent) "please may I have a scrap of intellectual gruel?".........that could amuse you, if only for an instant?

And then a person! With words! and maybe a picture if the planets align in a syzygy.

And then a journal!

That's when it happens-you read the journal only to hear Charlie Brown's teacher in your head.

"Wah-wah wah wah wahwahwah wah submissive. Wah wah wah wah respect. And always address me as wah wah wah wah wah wah."

SOOOOO...

Perhaps all of the people who use the journal as a tissue to cry into or a dartboard to aim at might want to attempt a more utilitarian and effective approach.

A BITCH Slave!!

Think of the stress relief! A slave would have to simply listen(or receive emails) and respond with appropriate conversation sounds. The Dommes with the weight of the world upon them, much like that first vertebrae, can release verbally on a slave who is supposed to say nothing except the transient "I'm so sorry" or "Yes, you're right."

It would be a Yin Yang epiphany! And it would save valuable minutes for those of us that prefer CONTENT in writing.

Immunity

I poke my fingers in and out of skulls all the time. I arrange them like a museum curator, and I check to see if they have been molested by a semester's worth of study. I am immune to the emotional effect a sleek cranium, the gaping eye pockets holding juicy orbs once upon a time. I am immune to the teeth which show their sprouts in the jaw. I easily remove the jaw, and when a particularly festive mood, rearrange the mandibles. But it often eludes me that these were once people whose thoughts ranged from "What will the butcher have today?" to "When will this war end?"

And so, in my death roll call, everyone is present, and I move on to the next task.

I believe that is why I seek the solace of a cemetary-it reinvigorates my fascination with death. Is that so strange?

(rhetorical question-no emails please)

Read my Breasts

While I don't normally buy cartooned or wordy T-shirts, I did procure a Happy Bunny Shirt on saturday. Happy Bunny, for those of you who are not familiar, is a perky little albino hare with an acidic sense of sarcasm. He likes a female bunny, who cannot accept his amorous overtures, and in summarizing this relationship, he says "What you call stalking, I call dedication!"

My T-shirt has an equally pithy declaration:

"It worries me how dumb you are."

Generating TENSion

Today...ahhhhh!....like a cool drink(NO! too overused!)

Today...like a glint of sun on a cloudy(STOP! it's going to rain, and besides-Hallmark vomit!)

Today...supercharge at 220V...relief...calm... like the peaceful vertigo upon touching a live wire and then...letting go!(better, but...)

Today...as perfectly satisfying as plucking a 1/8" nail out of the ball of your foot while prancing through the yard bare-footed and copulating with the leftover piece of hardware!

Yes, eventually I would find an analogy that suited the occassion. My Infinite Pet is back, a bit shaggier than I prefer(facially - pubically, he was his normal 5-year-old-boy-hairless state). What a glorious day, from which I am floating mindlessly through the day. Good thing, because my head occassionally gets heavy, making transport a bit of a burden.

I was given a beautiful device from a lovely friend - a TENS unit. Strapless it was! No bondage, no tape, no strange pin cushion games. He simply lay down where I told him, and spread his legs so I may journey toward the "Peninsula of Pleasure." {Rand McNally I'm sure would not envision this} His topography is marvelous. He is lean; no Arnold-esque 50:26" chest:waist ratio, but his lithe muscular body still retained the tan from his shirtless gardening. Small nipples, perky and sensitive. The concave belly, which can pop out a 2 to 4-pack if he flexes. In the Southern tier, below the equator: The striated quads, which melt into the "Isle of Intrigue", marked by an Infinity sign. The landscape for the mountainous marvel, my Himalayan masterpiece, My Pet's Penis!

But today it was a Cock. A juicy plum-colored fruit of which I savored the delectable juice before attaching 4 electrode patches. The experiment began.

"Here?"
"OK"
"More on the left?"
"Do as you please."
"How is this?"
"Nothing."
"How about now?"
"vibration!"
"What does that feel like?"
"An almost uncomfortable squeeze"
"Good!"
"What about the legs?"
" A pins and needles?"
"Now?"

The Linda Blair jolt upward told me that the little pin became a bayonet.

"Too much?"
"Just initially. You adapt."
"I think I'll move it to the Infinity sign"

This smile outstaged his prurient piercing stare. His eyes closed.

"Can I take you up?"
"Take me where you want to go"

6 of 8 not bad!
I felt a tiny buzz in readjusting a pad, so he must have been swimming in sensation.

A bit of a vertical descent, and...pleasure from below translated to pleasure above, as I marionetted his electrified organ with the TENS.

Orgasms at the turn of a dial!!

SYZYGYNOUS GLEE!

I did it!

I made it the whole 9 days without committing a felony! Due to frustration, you see, as my Infinite Pet has been fighting like Ahab in the Northwest Seas. He is back, however, and tomorrow will be an absolutely necessary reunion or astronomical magnitude, as our meeting will be the SYZYGY!

Unlike the awesome alignment of 3 planets, our Syzygy will be more of the Carl Jungian alignment of Anima and Animus.
(Forgive me for the awful word play as I have Jung-le Fever!)

But with the sum being greater than the whole, we may actually knock a few planets from their orbits as our energies reconnect in that supernova way that always happens!

My Kundalini Speaks!

The rhythmic gyrations of the serpent, as in a garter snake, a boa constrictor, or my anthropomorphic libido, mesmerizes all who see. It is motion without joints, without sharp angles, without stops and pauses. It is like a steady breath, back and forth, in and out. I sometimes notice the need to liberate my hips from my upper body, and only a lower back 360 will do. The people I have been studying lately are also slithering spirals of skin. The contortionists have adopted somewhat of a liquid approach to reality, foregoing the solid clumsiness. I envision that the success of MY contortions will be dependent upon the harnessing of the libido into such motions.

Won't my Infinite Pet be a lucky man the day I can curl my spine around so that my tailbone rests atop my skull!

The sub stare

No, no, no, not a "stalker" stare. I imagine that the nuance is so subtle that the general population has difficulty distinguishing between the creepy Charles Manson double orb oculation, and the little tot "losing their virginity to Disneyland" sighting of a 6 foot Mickey Mouse.

The stare of a genuine submissive is a lovely combination of eroticism and pure reverence. This is characterized by an openness to the stare, but not a protrusion of the eyeball itself. It is a stare that asks the Cinderella-esque question "you want me?" It is a stare of education, studying the environment with the
precision of a forensic detective. It is quite beautiful, and a most welcome sight.

Never underestimate the power of silence!

The sub voice.

There is a distinct tone, energy, timbre to the voice of the sub, in my experience anyway. I have even heard the transition from "mild-mannered alpha male Hello!" to "Yes, Ms Sero"

Fascinating!

No male, though, comes close to the Infinite Pet. A section of a poem "What lies between"(An Ode to my Pet's mouth)

A velvet voice

Resonance of sultry sounds seeps to my soul

(Subliminal salvation)

Like Elvis, only without the peanut butter/bacon/banana/quaaludes/amphetimes residue along the sinus cavities.

Lots of form letters lately...Is subs . com giving away free cuffs with every letter purchased?

As an addendum to the next journal entry(on the screen, not chronologically), I have had several "Story slaves" over the years. Many talented writers have been sharing the kinks in thier heads, though I especially enjoy the stories where I am the main character. It would thus prove the closing statements many of my teachers would nominate me with: "She's quite a character."

Let me see(flip flip flip-lick index finger-flip flip flip)

AHA!

The story of Zarephath, the dancer/spy! How did she begin in either exotic career???(scratch head once twice)???

Homework!

Roget, my idol

ENERGY
vigor
vitality
vibrancy
effervescence
prana
force
liveliness
dynamism
drive
verve'
enthusiasm
vivacity
vim
gusto
spirit
chi
animation
exuberance
life
excitement
joie de vivre

Perhaps I need a "word slave" to assist in the writings. Any volunteers?

Curiosity

8/6/07

Door Creak.

Door locks.

Thump, thump, thump?

?Sero??

Clink!

11 steps down .

Flip, flip!

Plunk plunk!

Rustling, shuffling,

Wicker squeaking.

Fffffttttt!

Sucking sounds-a deep breath,

Like an underwater emphysemic man being constricted by an anaconda.

SCCCRRRAAAAPPPE!

The familiar dragging of wood on stone, eerily similar to the door to Krema 1 at Auschwitz.

Patting and wrestling.

Stiff leather bawdily rubbing onto itself

Plip, plip:

Two small slaps, as skin seals to a granite slab.

Breath.

Heavy,

Puffy, smoke signals wafting up.

The Grinchy Grin!

Sero planned the sounds she just heard from her dark cavern called the Theatre(TEA).

Even through her meticulously detailed blueprints and arrangements, she could not have been so titillated, perhaps AS stimulated as her Infinite Pet.

His cloak was made of curiousity, decorated with fear, and lined with a raw, musky lust, while hers was pure anticipation of ecstasy.

The Actual cloak she wore was a double sided purple/green velvet hooded robe, which even enshrouded her shoes!

But back to the sounds, in which she led a man from light into her darkness?

He was used to entering through the rear door, so to welcome him in her absence, Sero left a simple note, attached to a white candle:

?Enter. Lock the Door.?

That was number 1 of 10.

She had no questions about his compliance; rather, her concern was the proximity of flame to paper. Fortunately, he was expedient and thoughtful enough to blow them out.

He was instructed to go down her steps to the basement, or should it be called the ?lobby of the Theatre??

?Stop at the skull.?

Nonetheless, he dutifully paused at the dead man to strip and put his clothes in the open-mouthed basket as the note had instructed.

?Light the cigarette. Put it in your mouth.?

Torture for a non-smoker such as he! But an effective gag, for his obedience did not require the wide rope and unbreakable chains that she often used with others. Is bondage and restraint was a cerebral tether, much more tensile than the reinforced panels of an airplane, and much more versatile!

?Stop at the altar. Step on the marble.?

Nose to hide, he was nearly pressed against the inside of a leather jacket. The next note, pinned to the jacket told him to put the right hand in the left sleeve, and left hand in right.

Wiggle-wiggle.

?Breathe.?

? Wait. ?

?Close your eyes.?

Sero could barely keep her own breath to a medically safe level. Every sinew of muscle wanted to spring into action, and every nerve was hot and flowing with vitality. When the hands came through the sleeves, she gingerly pulled 3 pre-cut strips of duct tape from the table and rapidly spun them around his sweaty cold wrists and palms.

And then she waited.

And breathed.

And closed her eyes

(In the same eager bliss that many a white-fashioned bride feels before they utter their own obituary before the clergy.)

It was time.

She arose from the leather chair and flopped the hood over her head. She had been waiting behind the curtain of the Theatre. On the other side awaited her Infinite Pet, caught like a fly, though that fly seemed to be quite willing to be cocooned for his Black Widow. You might even describe the fly as taking a running leap for the web!

With an unremovable smile, half with pride in her accomplishment at capturing him in her minor league straight jacket, and half with the notions of playing with her naked sex toy, she approached. Still hooded, she walked behind him and told him

to open his eyes.

?Are you finished??

Sero mockingly asked , while removing the cigarette from his trembling lips.

?Ahh,?

He began, but she interrupted:

?Were you afraid??

?No.?

Then a pause.

?No, well, anxious.?

?Good.?

Sero purred, buthe heard every syllable clearly, as she was pressed to his backside.

She unveiled and opened the cape to further diminish the distance between them.

Of all her furs and leathers and fabulous fabrics, nothing felt quite as divine as his derriere. It was, as she demanded, soft, shaved and smooth, an almost buttery texture, an eel skin slipperiness, but carved Michaelangeline-style with the lean curves you would see on Sir David.

?I told you to be prepared.?

?So well orchestrated!?

?Thank you!?

And in her vampirific joy, she reach around and sucked his neck, his ear, and eventually his moist lips as though she was able to draw blood right through the skin.

Like an evil Burlesque show, she shimmied down the last vestige of his clothing, the black thong.

She grasped on to HIS statuesque rod, unseeing, but sensing warmth like a snake with its infrared sensors.

?I want you on the table.?

She cut him out of the tape bracelets and slid him out of the jacket.

Moments before he became her prone prey, she enveloped him, green velvet inside,

In a suffocating lip lock.

ECSTASY!

A lovely weekend

To those concerned, what I had a few days ago-a lovely weekend. A BBQ of nudity and fetishy things, and interesting conversation. I tend to enjoy sensuality and subtlety more in public. Chances are there will be witnesses. My deviance can have no unpredictability. Thus, the privacy of the Theatre for the Really Big Events.

Speaking of, a wedding dress has been procured, and the only thing lacking is a sanguinous videographer. A film-worthy production is underway, and this tends to be a one-time-only event. Patience...more for me than you!

T-Shirt

(Did that hurt?)
7/30/07

I heard the words today,

For which a t-shirt is made.

The response to a hesitant query

A sensation beyond just scary.

As I pause to ruminate,

Your chest swells with air inspirate.

?Do you ever dare

Ask What?

Ask Where?

If you can endure

The trauma,

The cure?

The mystical blend

Of pleasure-swirled pain

Do you think you can sit

In a silent domain?

Does your skin start to shiver

when I spin the jeweled bars?

Deeply dug ducts

For integument scars.

A lengthy soliloquy

Still can?t describe

The psychic sensations

The needle supplies.

But this I can offer,

(An empathic reply)

An additional orifice-

Care to body modify??

Not a volunteer pin cushion exists.

And SO,

I defer to the words on the T-shirt

Simply

?NO?

Driver?s Seat Diary

7/26/07

I?m hot.

My skirt is moving up the thigh,

An elevator to the penthouse.

I wait,

impatiently.

(Is there any other way?)

I buy Time in bulk.

The chance to micromanage

My mirror image

The minutiae of my countenance

In this stagnant air.

The eternal pursuit of the

Insidious irritant:

That invisible hair!

I toss a spritz of minty mist

Toward the passenger void.

I cool my racing engine hot

Heart, just a bit.

Inevitable event impending,

Heart pounding

Again.

I dwell on you.

From my asphalt stall,

I see a distant driver

Charging headlights,

White-eyed black bull

Nimbly dodging other obstacles

To give me the bony horns

Piss-my-pants anxiety!
We?ve had a thousand

?Remember last time?s

And yet I am helpless to hide

My awkward virgin-white bride

Flutters and jitters

And underarm dew.

I dash to your car, and unravel inside.

I quickly compose

As I pare down your clothes

To the little black string:

A teasing swatch,

A tempting patch,

Put a lock on the latch.

Go forward and drive!

How long?

I?ll decide when the eyes should resign,

And the handiwork starts!

I feel my lips part,

And encircle your neck.

Downward they inch,

sampling you,

until I lose the windshield view.

Hot Summer Day

7/25/07

Winter is approaching-

Like snow white satin deathbed sheets,

covering our sacred spot,

a space we place ourselves,

enrobed in shivers and each other?s flesh.

It slows the water to a creep,

And plunges to a frigid sleep

The creatures living past our reach,

who watch in curiosity.

The mating dance of hairless game

Is without procreative end,

But more than intimate tangled friends.

Today is far from ice horizons.

Sand is melting into glass,

But just the same, my consciousness

Rises, widens, fixates, awaits

The perfect view,

My eyes to you.

And once again, my blood, a train

Barreling through

The inner avenues,

Makes it feel like this blistery day

No matter Sun or frozen rain,

When we lay in the space

on THE ground,

Our bodies mound

And a simple sigh of paradise

Is my only sound.

Leg D/s The moment came yesterday: the unlikely switch from Dom to sub occurred. In a surreal event, the hamstrings became victorious over the thighs of Thor! Let me explain...(but you knew I would!) I have always ALWAYS had iron thighs, even as a youth. I would easily lift things from a crouch, and I had a great deal of agility to balance the static integrity. While I was not particularly athletic, I had engaged in a variety of activites that allowed the thighs to develop. I began in Kung Fu, taught by the now semi-celebrity, Cynthia Rothrock. She also has iron thighs, btw. I continued in martial arts, Karate and some less aggressive forms, without intention of becoming a Master, but to simply learn all I could about the lifestyle and the skills. A currently useful activity I had also embraced is Middle Eastern dance. Sure, it's called "Belly Dancing" but I studied various ethnicities in the course of my sessions. One of my favorite was the Egyptian Candle dance, where you hold a glass jar in each hand(masochists, you may just place the candle in the palm, sans holder) with a lit candle, as you wiggle your asp around. (Boo HISSSSSSSSSSSS). I still dance, mostly in my own home, but I have bullet-like intentions to use those talents in a small video for Youtube or something similar. Back to the thighs... Both of these activities, as well as a steady regimen of cycling provided ample stimulus for the development of the quadriceps, hamstrings, and auxilliary muscles in the legs and hips. I did have a "Fat Elvis" stage, as those of you on female hormones know how marshmallow jet-puffy you get. I was less active, but the thighs were still dominant, especially the quads. I could easily perform for hours atop a willing submissive boy, until I dried him up like an 8-year old raisin found in the back of the cabinet. However, I knew the unhealthful nature of being overweight, and the gradual somatic complications that were developing sparked the next stage: Fitness Femme! to be continued...

More Leg D/s

The Fitness Femme

When I joined the gym, as I HATE and DESPISE and with every ounce of my BEING ABHOR the frigid cold, I intended it to be a replacement for my power walking outside.That it was. But like a kid in Toys'R'Us with an Infinite Gift Certificate, I saw all that was available, an in my usual extreme way, sought to participate in everything. I eventually became such a fixture that I began teaching 6am classes a year later! But onto the story...

I looked with wide-eyed mystery at the metal.Iron. Stainless Steel. Aluminum. Copper. So many crude barbaric shapes, semi-tarnished from savage sweat. I wanted it! Sweat AND metal. I had been taking classses of a Jane Fonda meets Billy Blanks(their children would be terrifying!) nature, and I was dissatisfied. It was suggested to me that I lift weights. I think my response to my trainer Dwayne was: ""HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! HEE HEE HEE! HO HO HO HO HO HO HO!!" and then, "Show me."

Talk about S&M! The things he was showing me to "improve myself" left me feeling like the victim of rejected tortures of the Geneva Convention. I fell into my car in a crumple daily, my only thought being how wonderful the simple nature of the shower would be after the Marquis De Dwayne finished his evil plot.

I do exaggerate, as I only had Dwayne for about a month, and my power lifting/strongman adventure lasted almost 2 years. I was my own whip-cracker, which I seem to do well, whether it is my gluteus or others', in leather thongs, or spandex leggings. I think it was telepathy from Arnold(the governor) as I studied his techniques and routines, though I used substantially less weight than he. He, as I do, had an obsession with developing the legs. Footnote: While he is known for 26" biceps, and a magnificent chest, those came relatively easy for him. It was his legs he struggled with, but with which he found great accomplishment. The pinnacle of my existence was a free standing squat with 250 lbs on the bar. My penis would have been huge that day!

As I discovered that I could not make a living like Sisyphus, and why would I want to?, I geared my activities toward other leg-intensive pursuits. Running! Now my battle was against the unfailing mega-bitch from hell: TIME. No stopping that devil, but my legs were ready to try. For the non-runners(or should I just use the synonym "sane person") quadricep development usually outpaces hamstrings exponentially. I was not super fast, due to my frame, but I could push in the 5Ks(or 3.2 American miles, Schoolhouse Rockers!) I would tape a B-12 dot under a band-aid on my finger, and at about mile 3, I would chew it and try to Seabiscuit a Victory as I spit red saliva from the filler in the vitamin(Love the look on the gatekeeper's face: red drool on my chin, panting, sweating-a rabid runner-EEK!)

So over time, the hamstrings, like their position on the leg, became a forgotten resource, even as I tended to them with Yoga....until Yesterday!

to be continued again...

Even More Leg D/s

Anti-gravity Yoga

I play on the playground. Excuse me-I train on the Conditioning court. The latter is what the adults do. So, as I was playing, with the 6' horizontal bar as my favorite, and the 3' a nice variation, I executed a wonderful inverted twist. I hand with my bent kjnees as hooks, and wrestle myself like a Green Mamba into comfortable loops over the bar. I slid one arm down the side post and around so that I could clearly see one ass cheek if I glance to the Sun. I attempted, but as of yet am not satisfied with my King Dancer pose, which requires that I grip the bar with both hands, as well as the toes of one leg which is bowed out behind me. The other leg dangles toward the Earth, but it was not vertical yesterday; hence, my dissatisfaction. I finished with some grassy thrashing, in splits and arches, and more twists. As I stood to move to my next destination, the front of the legs were numb;conversely the hamstrings felt like active telephone wires, zipping communicative impulses back and forth.

Spine:"Slow down, we have a half hour before class!"

Hams: "GO GO GO GO GO!"

Spine: "You mindless mass of 9x2 spindles! You need to settle down. I cannot take responsibility for your incompetance."

Hams: "We're fine! Look what we can do!"{breaks into a little jig}

Quads: "Freaks! Can't you see how trashed we are? Have a little respect!"

Hams: " Come on, I did the same thing you did!"

Quads: "Don't make us come back there and stretch you like Silly Putty."

Spine: "Both of you! STOP! Go home and recover. Find that friend Head and read a book!"

So I was truly amazed at the strength of the hamstrings when the quads are out of the picture. You would be too, though you STILL never want to be trapped in between my thighs when I am particularly spry, with evil-infused libido. I train Pythons how to squeeze in my spare time!!

Weird Compliments

Thank you-gratitude is expressed, but these do take you by surprise. I submit them for future use, but only in the world of bdsm:

**You have the pinkest a$$hole I have ever seen!**

**I'd love to take a bite of that ass!** (while leading a boy upstairs)

**You wouldn't be what most people call "pretty", but your persona is captivating.**
and similarly:
**You don't look like a supermodel, but you are addicting**

**I wish I was one of your shoes**

and similarly:

**I wish I could be your leather thong**

As I receive more, I'll shower you, Gentle Readers, with the strange machinations of the tongue tied and twisted.

The Deadliest Cult

Jonestown looks like nap time in Kindergarten in comparison with these evil anarchists.

They're naked, sometimes. Often, they cross dress in human skin, disguised and deadly, as their espoinage is of the most intimate nature. They are kinky and bizarre, wearing spiky collars, long flowing robes of flesh, or perhaps a hula hoop ring around the middle. The mission? To Reproduce and Kill. A two-point plan.

Do not let them into your house.

Do not let them into your head.

Most importantly, fortify yourself, recognize them, and shield staunchly. THey carry no weapons. They are ultimately one on one warriors, but they are inhuman...

literally!

They are the Viruses!

To a "Special" Girl

7/23/07

Marilyn, Marilyn, What can I say?

The beautiful people are calling today.

They look just so perfect in latex and leather.

They chatter like chimpanzees gathered together.

As I engage them, I'm starting to wonder

what alien landscape I've begun to plunder.

The ego centrality, psychic banality, spirituality, altered reality:

crazy straw hollow, the misery wallow, too-big-to-swallow

attitude, semi-nude, brain un-glued.

I hate to be rude,but....

if I stay, I will stray from my focus today.

Your venomous energy dangles from your fangs.

Farewell, medusoid manifestation!

The Petting Zoo Story

If I may refer to the absurdist piece by Mr. Albee, Imagine that I(Sero) am Jerry and the Infinite Pet is Peter. This may require a little dust-blowing for those of you who even bothered to save your Literature books.

SCENE 1:
A Park bench. A Beautiful sunny day. IP is reading the newspaper and Sero is approaching from the side, focused intently on IP.

S: Is this seat taken?

IP: No, please sit down, I'm just reading the paper.

S: Married?
IP: What?
S: Are you married?
IP: Isn't that a little forward of you?
S: That would be me.
IP: Um, well, yes, to be truthful.
S: Why would you be any other way?
IP: Other way?
S(sarcastically): ...truthful...WHY would you be other than honest?
IP: Excuse me, but I don't even KNOW you.
S(innocently): Do you need to? I just asked a question.

IP(angrily): ?and I ANSWERED the question! Why are you harassing me?

S: I?m simply addressing your response. Be still.

IP: What?

S(sitting down): Calm down. Let me tell you about my trip to the Zoo.

IP(calmer): I would like to read my paper, please. I only have an hour for lunch.

S(mockingly): Just an hour? I guess your coiffed hair will have to wait until the paper gets read and your cuticles are clipped by the little Mexican woman that you get manicured by, even though you would never tell anyone that she does.

IP: What an offensive thing to tell a stranger!

S(extends hand): Then consider me a friend. Back to the Zoo?

IP: I told you I was busy. Now If you?ll please Leave Me Alone?

S(flicks finger at IP): Shh, little gnat! I went to the Zoo today.

IP(exhaustedly): You are unbelievable!!

S: ?or so I am told. The zoo had many animals. There were pigs and horses and cows and dogs and cats, and even goats, sheep and, bears. They were all out in a big pen roaming around, waiting to be petted and fed by the onlookers. Have you ever been to a zoo?what is your name?

IP: I don?t know why I?m telling you this, but it?s Infinite.

S(puzzled): hmm?OK?I?ll call you the Infinite Pet, just like the creatures at the zoo.(joking) Can I pet you?

IP: You make me very uneasy.

S: Just teasing. Do you know what I did at the zoo?

IP: um, petted the animals?

S(fiercely): NO! I did NOT pet the animals!

IP: I think You need to calm down! I just answered the question.

S: And I was just checking to see if you were still with me. No, I did not pet the animals?I petted the people!

IP: That?s bizarre!

S: No, the people were animals, or rather, the animals were people.

IP: I don?t get it.

S(slyly): If I give IT to you, you won?t FORGET it.

You see, it was a petting zoo of animal people. Pony people, and Piggy people, and Puppy people?all in their favorite skins, acting like beasts and slurping up oaty/wheaty nuggets from my hand. I did NOT pet the Bear. It was big and bristly. Fur-wise, that is. He had a charming personality.

IP: Well, that sounds great, but I should be off.

S(pushes hand to IP?s chest): No, you will not be! I have to finish the story!

IP(startled): Um, OK, then, but please make it quick.

S: You must hear that quite a bit from your wife.

IP(aghast): Evil bitch!

S(singing Edie Brickell): What I am is what I am is?

IP: Your subtle innuendos are not appreciated.

S: Perhaps a sweeping overture might be?

IP(red-faced and loud): Stop it!

S: Infinite Pet?you must give in to your true self. I see your amusement, your confusion, and your total arousal by our conversation.

IP: I am NOT!

S(reaching down into IP?s lap): Officer, this man is carrying a concealed weapon!

It must be a 60mm barrel!

IP(stunned): WHAT are you doing!!!

S: Proving you wrong.

IP(calmer): Wrong?

S(hand still encompassing zipper): Wrong about your lack of interest. You couldn?t leave if I wasn?t holding your reproductive system in my palm. You are possessed by me!

IP: That?s ridiculous!

S(removing hand): Then leave!

IP starts to get up, pulls his pants taut, and sees the monstrous bulge in the front of his body. He covers himself and sits back down, stares at Sero and drops his head with a sigh.

IP: You win.

S(Elvis ?half smirk? on the lips): Win what?

IP: This game. Tell me your story, take my money ? I don?t care!

S(picking up his chin with a dagger fingernail): I don?t want to win, to steal, beastie. I want to possess!

IP: Take it-just a few $20s.

S: No, no, no! I saw you and I thought you could use a little ?shaking.? Does your vanilla life EVER need shaking! And to think how hot, how eroticized you get, just in those few volleys of sentences! I imagine unclothed in private, you must make quite a silhouette!

IP(fascinated, feigning anger): I am NOT some primal degenerate! I love my wife, and our intimate moments are beautiful, NOT that you need to know any of this!

S: Dear Infinite, I?m sure you do. But have you ever been to the brink of insanity with lust? Ready to violate all sorts of etiquettes, taboos, and fashion statements for the sake of raw, volcanic passion? Or should I ask, CAN you do so? Perhaps you are not capable!(to herself) They do have quite the collection of penile vaso-dilating drugs now. I bet a doctor could pass on one of the closet-full of samples they get on an hourly basis by lonely drug reps.

IP: I can?t believe I?m still here. I have to go.

S: ?to Mrs. Igloo Clit?

IP(reaching for Sero?s collar): I would never hit a woman, but you infuriate me enough to?

S(intercepting IP?s wrists): ?make me want to fuck you?!?

IP(Amazed, jaw dropping): I, um, I?

S: I would, you know. That?s why you fear me.

IP: fear?

S: And lust after me. Yes, you do.

IP(looking away): I think I do.

S: Where?s your car?

IP(robotically): In the parkade.

S(dragging IP by the wrist): Let?s go!

Scene 2

Sero and IP cannot be seen due to the steam on the window of the vehicle?

Saturday--Libertine Ball!!

I shall be there, ensconced in leather, adorned in metallica, perhaps scented of Jasmine.

I will have a wonderful escort, but I am always willing to meet new people for conversation and a peek at a pink derriere!

Fire in the Hole!

Good Morning NEPA!(doing her best Robin Williams, which is not very good) I'm sure any Vietnam retrospective will use the title phrase. And the titles of any of these movies might describe one of the many situations that the Infinite Pet has been in. Let's see...

Full Metal Jacket-not quite full, but lashed across the chest were a series of spike plates used for some construction purpose, as deemed by Lowe's. The "Chest of Nails", a portable Iron Maiden, and lightweight, folding into a small toiletry bag!

Apocalypse Now-except for the Marlon Brando the Hut segment at the end, the quest, full of post traumatic stress disorder hurdles, could be likened to our "Red Snow" day. Many drops were spilled, and many heads tainted.

Casualties of War-self-explanatory.

So,

the reason I mention this is that I am in the lab-or-a-tory again. Both literally and figuratively, I am creating chemical concoctions, potions, if you will. The INfinite Pet needs more stimuli! Lava has been our staple, but it is time to evolve. Flare is the latest "fire." A Bit of cinnamon tinged ethanol as a base, this tincture apparently is more immediately searing, but dissipates quickly. Lava, conversely, is a slower avalanche of heat, and requires a "Lava dance" to remedy-a variety of gyrations, like a volcanic tarentella, to shimmy out the burn, or to at least distribute it throughout the body.

What might be the route? The "hole" in question first became our target of masoecstasy about a month after he became my personal slave
{Wiggly dream sequence visual goes here}

He had boots for me, and his work took far longer than expected, so our rendezvous could only be a brief interlude that evening. In my burgundy Aigner leather trenchcoat, and underneath a fishnet bodystocking, I raced to the spot, where he was waiting. I climbed in the back seat and slid behind him, wrapping my hands over the drivers headrest and into his lap. Possessing my male genitalia, I unzipped, and palmed a small brown eyedropper. Unscrewing it, I pulled up a full dropper of hot juice, a precursor of the lava, touched it to his tongue, and waited. His response was a foul one-a pain, a surge, a response which traveled to an already firm black thong. Exposing the inevitable well, I thrust into his extremity completely, and squirted him from the inside out. The rush was intense. It certainly provided more of a passion than I had imagined in my sadistic scenarios. There's that lock and key again!

So As the juice became hotter, so did the passion that followed. I finally settled into Lava, though he is almost becoming immune, if that is possible! Flare is born!

PS. I did learn the hard way: Kali attack first, Lava second!

Anatomy 101

The term "ass" has many connotations, but as I speak to more people, it becomes nececssary to differentiate the different areas of the "ass" Let the lessons begin:

The ass has several major muscle groups:
Gluteus Maximus, the meaty central bulk of the ass, often creating the heart shape that is best appreciated bent over. The Gluteus Medius is above the maximus, and is smaller, more toward the edge of the hips, but below the kidneys on hte lower back. Whereas the maximus fans downward/outward at a 45 degree angle from the spine, the medius is parallel to the spine.

Underneath the superficial muscle structure are more Gluteal sinews. The Gluteus minimus is an aptly named muscle, in the same position and shape as the maximus, but smaller, and less bulky. Below that, also on the diagonal, is the Piriformis, about half the width of the minimus. The next two diagonal muscles, from top to bottom, are the the superior gemellus and the obturator internus. These are about the same size as the piriformis.

Still below those are the muscles whose atrophy contribute to the "saggy cellulite bag ass" These are the inferior gemellus and the obturator externus. The old trick of placing a pencil under a cheek to see if it stays(traditionally meaning you have too much ass flesh!) can also be accomplished with a well developed set of these two muscles. Muscle mass on the ass looks infinitely better than adipose tissue. Remember: muscle is active metabolic meat...all the better to wiggle and ripple with!

The last muscle which I shall bundle in the ass lesson is the quadratus femoris. It is more of an upper thigh muscle, but it synergizes closely with the others(much like the 5th Beatle) to create definition and a curve. The flatter this band wraps around the upper thigh, like a garter moved as high up as possible, the perkier the ass looks.

I mention these items for multifarious reasons. First, education is always beneficial, if not now, perhaps later. Next, many people mistakenly assume the ass is one muscle, whereas much improvement can be made to the aesthetics if one realizes the components that make up this dorsal cushion. Also, I want to differentiate the musculature from the internal parts(rectum and inward).

When I mention that my Footman has taken on new ass duties, he is only working the striated bundles on the outside. The Infinite Pet, on the contrary, massages the muscles, suckles the skin, but also spelunks in the dark recesses of the rectum(and beyond!).

Back to Foot man...

So I had an unused Loofah glove, stretchy spandexy and coarse. To fully energize and invigorate the skin, I leapt up on the chaise on all fours, like a delinquent feline who knows she's not supposed to climb. I wiggled the ass and settled into to position, and Foot man began the lotioning in concentric circles. In a mockery of Michael Jackson's "Thriller"(Isn't his whole LIFE a mockery of itself?) he donned the glove, and began rubbing, smoothing, kneading and heeling the muscles, from all angles, to various depths. The scratchy texture on the contrasting surface of luscious lubrication was a delight! I reared back into his hand, much like a pampered kitten, perhaps even expelling a low purr as the chills spilled up my back, as mercury from a broken thermometer speedily zips along in straight trails. It is a most wonderful sensation, the massage with the variety of textures and pressures, and for who knows how long?! A few hours were spent on Saturday where I was naked on the Chiase-Bliss!

You will know my Foot man if you see him...the one with forearms like Popeye!

Not so Wicked Witch of the West Side of the Wyoming Valley

Another Wednesday night...

Hmmm, the usual antics...

Meet a darling photo boy, wathc some Andrew Blake(educational purposes only-cinematographic research), go to the cemetary, don the velvet cape, take photos perched on the tombstones(in the clear shoes that phosphoresce), see snooping onlookers, get threatened with police intervention, drive away...

If I was more confrontational, I would have punctuated this moment with the exclamation point of retorts. The busybody in question was a middle-aged woman, in horribly unflattering shoes I might add, who was "walking" her dog by cradling him in her arms. As I sauntered by, in cap-ed glory, she made the unconvincingly flaccid threat that she would call the cops if we didn't leave. I almostcackled in wiccan delight(though now I type it to you, gentle readers):

"I'll get you, my pretty, and that little dog of yours too!"

Priceless!

Found! 1 lost Sub

I will let you fill in the childhood rhyme "Finders Keepers"

But it is with all adult bill-paying porn-watching seriousness that I am pleased to have found a submissive, not lost per se, but simply waiting to be found. Aren't they all?

"WHat does he do?"

Sero replies," Anything I want!"

"Tell me about the feet again"

SAM did the equivalent of snuggle up with a fuzzy homemade afghan and set her head atop a downy fluffball of a pillow at the restaurant.

"Alright-One more time! "

Sero recited, and from the peripheral, curtain parted and a spotlight shone blue-ish radiance above her.

"I have a Foot man. We met at a truck stop. He was not so much lost as looking to be found, and to sweeten the deal, he was carrying a rose. As we spoke, and attention was diverted more and more frequently to my feet, I knew the magic show was just beginning. I envisioned an orgy of pumice stones, and lotion, and bubble baths and mini massagers, and...reverie seems to have gotten the best of me."

"What about the toes?"

"Patience, dear. The fantasy of foot care has taken a most glorious diversion into reality. The first time my Foot Slave arrived at my home, he came bearing a paraffin wax treatment. Oh, the lusty luxury my tarsals experienced! For 3 hours, we soaked, we peeled, and not only did the minty scent remain on my feet and his hands, but the creamy supple skin became a delight to touch."

"And he shaves?"

"Does he ever! I began with the legs-little spray lotion so as not to obscure the almost albino hairs. He was careful in his vertical stokes, from the ankle, up to the knee. It was most comical, as he was trying to shave the calf, and as I was stretched out on the chaise, and he on the stool, I put my foot on his forehead for balance! Of course, it was a super soft pepp-o-foot. He was so skilled with the lower leg, that I gave him a lesson in the femoral region. Stroke stroke stroke! Perfection!"

"and then...?"

"Since he treated his task much as a neurosurgeon would in excising a medullar malignancy, I showed the precise technique for keeping the rings pristine. It was quite the challenge to adjust the razor at various angles in such a small space, but he was superb!"

"I wish I had such a slave."

"I have to say, the quest was grueling, but aren't all good things worth the struggle? Now I can't imagine how my feet ever functioned before! If you want, I could lend him to you..."

"Really!?!?"

...and SAM discreetly dabbed at the corner of her moist eye.

Caffeinated Colombian Conundrum

Kairos, the son of Zeus, God of Timing(good and bad and irrelevant) and Serendipitous Synchronicity, not to be confused with brother Chronos, God of the Tick-Tocking Timex, was licking my posterior yesterday at Wegman's, lapping his immortal tongue just below the fire tattoo and Kundalini Snake.

Since I have your ear(and perhaps other anatomicals)...

Zara had mentioned to her co-conspirator of her urgent need for a cup of coffee.

RING!!

"Hello" Her Pet oozed libido all the way through the phone receiver.

"I'm going to stop for a coffee before I search for the copper cage. I'll give you a call when I'm on my way."

She was looking for a particular piece of metal, but then again, she always has a fondness for forging. She Also has a fondness for foraging, especially when it involves footwear.

Zara and her Pet, I1, were destined to meet that evening for an exchange. Under the pretense of random anonymous meeting at the B&N, coffee cups were to be swapped, usually in the dance and arts section. All the cups look alike, and they usually double them up, instead of pulling a paper sheath over, so as not to innervate the delicate neurons in the fingertips. It was perfect! Simply slide off the extraneous cup, drop, cap, and wait, leving the delivery on the shelf, waiting...

This works well, but other means have been employed. One time, the clever cohort slid a coded note inside a Wiccan magazine which he purchased and dropped as he was leaving the store. Oh, and let us not forget his homage to bondage. There was the matchbox, left on the counter, not a strike to be struck! But inside, a beautiful pair of gold handcuffs to charm her necklace.

There are times when she required a double drop, giving him items to use or modify, as she retrived some to use or simply amuse herself. Many of her powdery potions are administered in this manner-vials and tiny containers, boxes in bags and bottles in boxes, and more gelatin capsules than 1 horse could provide in a lifetime! Elixirs and tinctures were more difficult to conceal, but her clever eye for blending normally obtrusive accessories is amazing. She taped the ends of a straw which held a fluid meant for immediate consumption. She had been known to use a perfume atomizer for "misting" the mysterious vapors, like a mischievous puff of Dragon Breath into the facial orifices. No matter what the route, Zara knew how to sail under the radar like a stealth bomber.

More purposefully, though, are the practical items used to construct devices, attachments and various other spy gear for their espionage extraordinaire! Usually, these things were not easily obtainable by Zara, and due to I1's prestigious position, access to supplies was simply easier for him, which he needed to then transport to her.

Of course, the French Resistance is vigilant and occassionally wise, giving the edge of hyper-alertness to all of their meetings. Adrenaline adventures are her forte', as are his, so the two, like a lusty (se)X-FILES episode. She does have red hair, now that you mention...

intermission

Caffeinated Colombian Conundrum (continued)

We had been speaking of coffee, initially, and before I continue down the sultry serpentine path of seduction, I'll come back to the incident in question-Zara's coffee confusion!

Zara had intended on a B&N meet, as I had mentioned, but before that, she stopped at her favorite "we have everything here from all over the world, and even things beyond the Earth, except for gasoline, but we're getting that too, so why shop anywhere else?" store, Wegman's.

Another agent was on her cell, an office boy, who was inquiring about some reports and papers that needed forgi...I mean "editing."
As her daily coffee dose was barely administered due to a busy day of random things, she stopped at the coffee shop for an Americano.

"The machine is down. I'm sorry."

"Well, if I was not so controlled as to maintain decorum at all times, and perhaps if I had more vasodilating chemicals in my bloodstream, I might utter an expletive, but conversely, I shall take a small coffee."

The quizzical facade of the coffee lady did not faze her from her focus-coffee, B&N, seduction!

...BUT...

Just as she was double dropping-cash for coffee-I1 walked in!

Never one to let agitation stir her cool exterior, Zara, in black, with the black leather studded sandals, remniscent of a motocycle seat(smelling much better, however), sauntered over to the acoutrements bar, where she waited.

Moments later, I1 arrived. Zara held 2 shakers and asked the "stranger" for his opinion.

"I don't add cream or sugar. What would taste better, chocolate or vanilla?"

Loaded more than a .38 in the hands of Noxen resident with a free case of Bud, Zara was surprised by the response.

"I add nutmeg."

Nothing stirred her coffee like I1 being subtly bold...more fuel for their copulatory conflagration!

"Are you shopping?"

"Yes, just briefly."

"I'll be outside."

Kairos, the ethereal lover of Zara, paved the paths to meet here instead of moments later, but regarless, the exchange in the vehicle would be accomplished. The Double Drop!!

RING!

"How is your coffee?"

"NOT Starbucks, for sure. It's terrible today!"

"I know, higly dissappointing, but we shall endure. Are you coming in the back?"

"Absolutely."

Zara hopped from hers to the adjacent car, which had the door propped slightly. Her feline grace allowed at most, a 3 second transition. Timing is always critical!

And simultaneously, they spoke "Kairos!" in amusement at their premature, but very welcome meeting. She pulled a vial from between her cleavage-"Here, drink it!"

Gulped in a shot, her longed for what would be next, but first, the exchange. A coffee cup, with contents that rattled. And in a most considerate gesture, a bag of Starbucks coffee.

"Oh, you DO want to please me don't you" as she pressed the classic white bag int oher nostrils.

"Get in the back!"

While a traditional exchange might be seconds, they had both time and privacy to further "exchange"

Before she could finish enunciating "Let me see...", his black thong was the only garment that adorned his lower body.

"OFF!"

And they were.
Zara's blaze flared as she crawled on top of her favorite "co-worker" and sucked at his face and bit at his neck. Mauling would be appropriate here. Though they had more time to perform their indoor pyrotechnics, 10 mintues was about the limit they could safely
assume together in the open public venue of the parking lot, even though it was desolate.

"SHH! Someone's coming!"

A cart retrieval brigade was wheeling nearby, but apparently oblivious to the decadence within the car. Her flexibility as a dancer allowed her to shrink low in the seat, even contorted and vined around I1. Always keen to the peripheral world, her senses had to be astoundingly sharp, as she was training him to do as well.

" I smell something unusual."

"I bought a different kind of mint at the store. Do you like?"

"Yes, let me taste."

Zara twisted her neck over 90 degrees so the back of her skull was nearer to her shoulder blade , and with a dextrous tongue, reached up to the corner of his mouth to swab his lips.
"Wintergreen-y!"

Peering slowly over his shoulder, she tried to view her unwelcome clean-up crew, but they had restored order and re-entered the store.

"They're gone!"

Thus resumes the erotic interlude...

Her dance was not limited to the stage. As she performed an extemporaneous lap dance with I1, she felt a slight head on her forehead, which grew in stages to match the throbbing of her man below. It was Intensity that many disperse over an evening of intercourse, combined into a ten mintue escapade that takes into account dressing/undressing and entering and leaving the vehicle. In fact, the groping and grappling the the confines left them both with fingertip size bruises, well earned and cherished.

Upon completing the exchange, Zara expediently moved back to her car, Starbucks cup in hand, Starbucks bag clutched to her chest, and her keen olfactories, revelling in the combination of bean, wintergreen and her Pet's sweat...

MORE SHOE ROOM CAPERS!!

I pick myself up, and my Q-Tip, and start back to work cleaning her shoes?

"....and now, mc, we are going to focus on the laces. Do you see the translucent boots? The ends are frayed. Please roll them in tape so they do not continue to rip."

With a regular roll of Scotch tape, similar to a midget trying to pull down a full window shade, mc began cauterizing the wounded laces.

Rip! Roll. Rip! Roll...Each lace took about 3 mintues to bind as tightly as Sero expected. From the translucent boots to the Black buckled ones her Infinite Pet presented on their very first meeting, to the Gothic velvet wedges that laced up the calf, he was rolling more black rope than a Shibari expert in the Dust Bowl.

"Tighter, please!"

mc was trying so very hard to please, but his arms were sore, and his back fatigued. He began to commit a fatal sin-sloppiness!

Sero bent down, her rubber back bending in an arch so her chin could almost touch the floor as she stood with straight legs. She looked him in his tiny eye-dinner plate to teacup lid.
"mc, do attend to you work more carefully."

With that humble request, she left the room.

Moments later she reappeared to find a mummified man! Apparently as her mini-maid was pulling out a strip of tape, he fell, wrapped his arms, and through his thrashing, began to further secure himself in the plastic.

"How adorable! A spider tangled in his own deadly web! Should I let you continue, or should I see how you wiggle out?"

"Mith Thero, pleathe hep me!"
The tape partially covered his lips, rendering him marvelously moronic in speech.

"Fast or Slow?"

"What?"

"Never mind-Fast!"

Several squeaks and squirms later, a red-skinned peanut of a man sat on the floor of the shoe room looking around at the tape ball that had imprisoned him.

"I feel a slight amount of pity for you, but not enough to treat you to a sink bath. Here-relax until I give you another duty."

...and a generous Sero grabbed one floppy arm, hoisting up the tiny man, and plopping him on top of her latest beaver pelt...

S&M SCOOBY DOO - Episode 2

When last we saw the quirky quintet, Freddy was thrashing poor Daphne about something inane and the bestiality poster boys were stoned beyond this universe. The Mystery Machine rolls on...

Velma at the helm:

"I can't tell if we're going the right way. This dirt road is terrible on the suspension! Freddy, help me navigate. The GPS is on the fritz!"

No response.

"Freddy!!"

Fingers began to gnarl around the steering wheel.
"FREDDYYYYY!"

Nothing!

An abrupt stop shifted the contents of the van forward, with surprised looks a natural consequence.
"Velma, why did we stop?"

...and as Velma crawled to the chaotic back...

Stay Tuned!

Damn the Last Cookie!!!

...the tiny man was inching around the heel of the prized Cat Shoes as he was cleaning the items in the Shoe Room. Too small for a broom, he was dusting the molding and cleaning the dirt from the soles of the dozens of Foot Masterpieces with a Q-tip. The tiny man, only 6 inches or so in height, was perfect for the Liliputian details.

Sero's bare feet thumps were audible, and tried to predict a pattern, but she was apparently involved in a myriad of tasks at home. Her little helper, mc, was given the Shoe duties today, which he secretly adored. Perhaps not so secretly, when he came over, he wielded the Q-tip in hand like a Johnson and Johnson pitchfork.

"What will you have me do today, Sero?"

"Shoes! The winter was horrendous to the leather. Let's clean them."

And she did mean let's, as she bgan pulling out pairs and opening jars of cleaner, polisher and tinted conditioner. This was a very pleasant time, work with intellectual discourse interspersed with crude primal lusty lyrical phrases. The usual fare.

BLEEP! BLEEP!
"Excuse me...The Infinite Pet..."

And off she went, with the cell phone cradled in the ear.

mc dreamed about these moments...alone in the Shoe Room! he dropped his cotton scabard and went directly to his favorite pair, ones he dared not touch in her presence...The Cat Shoes! Perspiration and preseminal fluid oozed from his body simultaneously as he circled them in admiration. He almost petted them, appropriately enough, when he heard the sound of speedy footsteps down the hall. Quick! grab the swab, he prodded himself!

But she dashed in the bathroom instead, and he was safe...for now! His curiousity was insatiable. "If I could just touch them..."

He reached again to the furry feline, and just received the first inkling of prickle, when the footsteps resumed.

"mc?? Where are you?" She did not know where he had gone, and before she entered sshe liked to give a verbal warning, so as not to make wine of her fruity little friend.

"Right here, Sero...by the glass shelves!"
The expletives in his head were smacking his brain around, as he was NOT by the shelves, but pressed up against the heel and underneath the Cat Shoes! He knew there were several untouchable pairs, and this was one unauthorized zone!

"I don't see you!"

"Look to your left." Maybe by misdirecting her he could escape, but it was not in his destiny.

"There's that unruly ass!" Sero reached down under the right Cat Shoe to pluck the quivering offender up.

"The Cat Shoes? Any explanation?"

"I just wanted to pet..."

"No! You know the rules. The sacred shoes are not to be molested. They have been christened byt he Infinite Pet, and are to remain pure.

"I'm sorry."

"You will be. But I will not lose this opportunity for ironic sadism. "

With a quick flick, she tossed him into the right shoe and began to put it on.

"You know I found you because your ass was visible from my view. Watch those cookies, dough boy!"

"Sorry Sero!" was all he could mutter beneath the suffocating size 10s!

S&M Scooby DOO

What would be the ultimate Scooby Doo episode? I think of all the elements incorporated into the Hanna Barbera classic, and today, they emerged as a most painful event in my life. If I may present my 008: License to Create!

The Mystery Machine was on its merry way, swerving down the dusty road. Freddy wasmoving from the ratty captains chair in the front into the recesses of the van. He noticed the prone comatose bodies of Shag and Scooby, lying at 45 degree angles to each other on the Aztec rug. They had obtained the fabric from a roadside stand, and in trade for some good "hemp" and a few hours of giggles with the proprietor, they left with new decor for the van. Of course, the rug beneath the Static Duo now contained more hemp than cotton fibers. An irritated Freddy exclaimed, "Can't you two dopes remain conscious for longer than it takes me to open a box of Scooby Snacks?" Freddy was quite the skillful ambassador when it came to solving mysteries, but his stealth with sarcasm leaves a lot to be learned.

"What do you want?" Shaggy, murmurring incoherently, reached up and scratched his head, though in his post tetrahydrocannabinolic haze, he tickled Scooby's instead. "Oh, Freddy, hey!"

"Get off the rug, I need the space, guys."

Reluctantly, the man and beast lumbered forward with ragdoll grace to the bench seat in the back, where Daphne was arising.
"Hey Daph! What's up? Did you see a little roach around here?"

"Sorry, boys, but you'll have to keep track of your own toys." The bubbles that filled her head carried the words out in smooth bobbing tones, very pleasing to the trance state of her companions.

Shag continued,"You know Daph, I never told you how pretty you hair is, Can I touch it?"

"I'll let you brush it, but not with Scooby's brush. He has fleas! Ugh!"

"No, man, not fleas, magic dust!"

He began to run his gnarled trembling fingers through Daphne's bright red locks, when he got stuck in a piece of metal.
"What is this! You took my roach?"

" I did not!"

"Oh, man, it's in your hair. Jeepers, Daphne, I though we could trust each other!"

"I did NOT steal your roach. It's my barrette!"

With a timid chuckle, Shaggy begged,"Uh, yeah, it is. Sorry."

Freddy, listening to the almost pointless volley of words, called from the back," Daphne! Come on!"

Taking off the white boat neck shirt, before shuffling the little navy miniskirt to the floor, Daphne presented herself before Freddy by kneeling and bending forward, pulling her hands to the lumbar region of her spine.
"Be still."

Using the last of the Duct tape, he wrapped more than a foot along her forearms, including the Piece de Resistance: Pinky Bondage! A strip around the two little fingers renders anyone non-functional.
"Get up"

She arises to her knees to see Master Freddy's ascot askew.
"Sir, your neck..."

CRACK!!

"When you are needed, I will address, you, Hole.

And to make his point tangible, he stuffed the whole box of Scooby Snacks into her mouth!
Sadism at its finest, a hungry hound looks to the drooling girl, with equal Pavlovian response

Stay Tuned for the next adventure!

Oh dear, my mc pics are not visible! I will change that shortly!

mc what?

mc: micrococcus cuteus,

my little photo slave.

He's adorable and talented, and fits in a pocket!

You may notice, bioheads, that it is a derivation of micrococcus luteus, a rather inert bacteria, unless you chug a stein-full. It doesn't seem to bother me though, even as I place my Yerba Mate tea gourd adjacent to the bug-a-teria.

....and NO! it does not refer to genitalia. micro=small; coccus = sphere

small balls! Very sugggestive! Science primesMY libido!

2 TINY TASKS, Infinite in Size(photos in profile)

...she looked downward into the chalice and slyly surveyed her little capture.

"Won't you make a lovely decoration for a cocktail! I hope you can swim!"

The little man in the glass looked up, at first a little hesitant to speak, but then he uttered:"What will you do with me, Sero?"

"Why your head is no bigger than a maraschino cherry! I could swllow you whole...but I won't. I think you must be the Keeper of the Infinite Chalices. Would you like this important task?"

"Very much so."

"OK, Let's begin. Look down into the cup."

The little man obeyed.

"Here is a Qtip. Please scrub the inside of the chalice. When you are finished, crawl out and into the second one. Scrub that as well."

"Of course"

...and he Did obey. What choice did he have? Thetoil took almost an hour, after which Sero returned to inspect the work.

"Thank you! You have made them sparkle. If I give you another Qtip, will you scrub the outside?"

"Of course, anything for you!"

After another length of time, Sero returned again, with the little man rubbing his aching triceps.
"If I may be so bold..."

"Yes, be a little bold."

"What was so difficult to scrub in those chalices?"

"I can't tell you...I'd have to kill you" And with a loving smile, she turned and left the little man atop her black leather glove, whereby he immediately entered a finger and took a well-deserved nap.

Dreaming....about the cups...and the decadence within!

My Rose Colored Glasses

The figurative meaning applies as well, but I'm speaking of actual rose colored glasses. I just purchased a pair and I like them very much. They are sturdy, and rectangular, with no bottom rim. I have many colors, because the sun has different intensities, and not every pair accomodates the rays. I like yellow lenses, as they brighten everything in view(though peripheral in comparison looks drab). Brown is tolerable, and black less so, but often necessary to prevent a fender collision, as a spot I pass in the morning by the Coca-Cola plant sends a Gigacandela into my corneas, akin to a trident's stiff penetration. I also cherish the green hue, as it is my favorite color. Purple? Yes, that one too.

I searched for a pair because I lost the screws to the purple pair, and none in my eyeglass repair kit would fit. In the ultimate "Gotcha!" moment, I had on the black ones going up to Saturday's leathery BBQ.

*torso note*(not quite at the foot)
We had a wonderful day! Many of my friends attended, and while I only played with my boy, the evil Vampire Bunny glove as the tool of treachery, the discussions were lively and diverse. About 30 people were in and out through the day, amidst the scent of eucalyptus and the sounds of native american flutes.**

As I was leaving, I put the eye shades on the roof of the car, retrieved something from the trunk for the host, and went off on the dusty dirt road, back to Rte 81, with 25 miles of relentless singing ahead. I was too tired to unload my farm clothes, so I went in and took a few ZZZs. And a few XXXs as I did not have work on Sunday.

I went on my way to the Crafters /indoor flea market just down the street. My Pet Lady makes tiny organic and natural pet snacks. Luna particularly loves the teeny sweet potato pie. She makes a cute little stuffing muffin, too! As we chatted, Luna jumped to the counter, and meandered toward the treats. Sorry, chickie-no free samples! I purchased a few little items for my newest dog friend next door(a doberman has adopted my back porch), and drove to the dollar store to buy another gross of sunglasses in rainbow colors. But...

Nothing! Can you believe that not a single pair could be found to flatter my face?! So I went home, to set up Luna with her sweet potato-flavored dose of Serotonin. Unpacking the car, would you imagine what tenaciously clung to the roof? Yes, the Black glasses!
Adopting properties not normally characteristic of plastic, the glasses had such a resilient will that they became magnetic. They did not grow a sucker foot, as I had previously thought, nor did they exude a gluey barnacle-esque bond to my roof. The power of determination!

While I like the Rose glasses, it is obvious that the black glasses are my most devoted, and thus my prime pair. Sorry. Obedience wins every time.

Master Who?

Some ask whether or not I am submissive, switchable, or have ever been. A pox on thee! Banished! Cut out the vile tongue that doth decreee such insanities!

Now, I do have One that commands me, compels me, drives me, ignites me, inspires me, above all.

Master Infinity.

Not a person, but the mysterious continuum of Time /Space which acts as a fabric or substrate on which all things exist, past present future.

It is the only force I can conceivably concoct that can be greater than myself!

But truly, the Infinite Uiverse(or is it a multiverse?) astounds me. It is almost the only thing that I cannot know, learn or analyze. It just IS. And that is why I am caught in the vortex, labelled, and named for such an energy realm.

Thus, the open crescent surrounding the tattoo of my Infinity! Not a possession of, but a devoted follower!

UPDATES:

Remind me to post about the Bondage BBQ-a wonderful event!

And for those of you who have inquired about the farming-thank you in advance!
Mistress SAM is looking forward to your service!

Can you tell I like snakes? Kundalini stitched in the back, the whispered hiss of Ms. Sero( go on-say it to yourself)

Only thing missing is the fork-ed tongue!

*Hint*
Address your intended recipient properly!

When I was on the job hunt, I would send out resume's by the ream. As my life is what it is, They were obviously the same content, but the Cover Letter would be addressed to Mr. PuffnStuff, etc.

SO,

If you are sending out a sub form letter, as I know most of you do,

please address ME, and not Mistress HELLO!

In the words of Agent Starling, "Manners, Mr.Crawford. Manners!"

Hello 2007!
Journal "subscriptions" online? Wow!

I am so sorry for the dispersion in many lands, like a Subaru-driven trip to Mordor, and elsewhere. Of course, some of you KNOW what I've been doing lately, so take a yoga moment and pat yourselves on the back for making my days That Much Better!

One of the things that I have attended to is the ear-gasmic pleasure of the new RUSH album. Yes, they're still here, and while their style metamorphoses, it is the core that remains pure and cerebrally intoxicating, without the nasty effects to the liver. That led to a deluge of the Toronto Trio. The old, the new, resurging in a raging remniscence of college days and beyond.

I first began collecting subs in college, about the same time I began the musical mayhem on the Rickenbacker. On a trip to see RUSH in NJ(Still washing off the NJ turnpike hazardous waste residue!), armed with a copy of Rudy Rucker's "Infinity and the Mind", I sat in the back of a big car, doing my best impression of necrotic tissue-sitting, melting into the book-avoiding conversation with the other males. *Note* It is a common occurrance at RUSH concerts to be a female needle in the haystack of boys.
Ironically(or is it, Master Universe?!?!) One of the boys in the car contacted me through Collarme a few months ago and recalled our Rush trip. Submissive now, he knew something was interesting about me then.

MORE INFINITY-STRETCHING NEWS:

So what's with the headstand? Inversions are my forte. I love to toss the body upside down.
THUS-

Erotic Contortion Videos!

In progress, to be an evolution of my kinky nature. Literally!

Another Darwin phenomenon:

The Kundalini Snake!!

Big
Black
Brazen
The snake is barely out of the proverbial egg, but we wanted to be sure that it could handle my activities. My spinal serpent has been sewn skillfully in nylon cord. ?you ask this question? The Infinite Pet, of course! He's looking for thicker braid to make the creature more ominous. There are about 26 vertebrae, so we shall have to find a substantial length. In addition to his Sex slave/piercing/Wardrobe enhancing/versatile man-under-foot roles, I think I'll add "Tailor."

Stay tuned Serofans!

Wait! that sounds a lot like seraphim: an angel of the highest rank in the traditional medieval hierarchy of nine categories of angels. In the Book of Isaiah they are described as having six wings.

Voila! a name for my subscribers: Serophans!

(Click clack click clack)

Do you hear the Boots?

She's coming back!

I Do have a request, but only for those service oriented folks.
FARM HANDS(and feet and back) are needed! My friend has much manual labor to do! And the two of us can only do so much. While I don't mind wearing leather out in the pasture, she's not as brazen. Please inquire for details.
Did I mention : Udders to be pulled!?

Infinite charging.

The Stick in the Neck was simply painless:
stainless steel, horns adorn the tips.
It hooks and hovers over Infinity Green,
an extraneous border to highlight Forever-
to be joined in a quartet of curves.
As above, down below, the deep penetration
sent warm whooshing waves
down my spine, draped like a cape.
Th metal to metal electric connection
made trembles and rumbles and tickles and prickles.
Infinite charging.

Today, the Infinite Pet(Infinite for SO many reasons) put the curve in the neck above the Infinity-working toward the exospine!
It was astounding, the sensation, the penetration. As I awaited the screwing on of the tip, I felt the drowsy surge. The body first called to action to snoop on the neck, and discovering all is well, retreated and relaxed. The equilibrium, as I have known from previous piercings, becomes misaligned, and standing becomes a challenge, so I dropped to an inverted V position( a Downward Dog, if you like) and accepted the gracious lapping of the pup behind, having placed the white leather askew. Obstructed view of the ass removed, I felt entirely new pleasure in old adventure, as the blood sent to the head throbbed in the neck.
a rush...
a gush...
Magic 8!

Intersection

Yellow siren:

Clothes, hair, and sign
You beckon, your beacon-a flag,
You demand, your weapon-a word
YIELD
(or else?!)

Brazen beauty:

guiding missiles a little too close for comfort.
The command of your tanned hand
orders otherwise chaotic clots of
cars,
trucks,
and diesel beasts.

Macadam maven:
nonchalant
you prance on paved runway.
Like Shakti's sister,
waving hands to keep the flow,
flirting flips to your boys in tow,
whetting lips and drenching the brow.
~~~
In the exhausting heat
The pace of the street
whirs at your whim,
purrs to your stroke.
The world in motion
can suddenly sleep
or slow to a creep.
Whipped up in an flurry,
Magic without wand.
Intesely aware
of all who pass with care,
in reverent stare.
Do I dare?
Sultry Smile.
Finger flourish.
Your twist of the wrist-
A power we share.

Hell's Bells

Gentle Helen Keller dance of hands. Heart sounds strong, she glides along, and chills subside, our flesh collide.

A kiss to round horizon moon, brought indoors through a magic spell. At midnight's tolling dozen bells, a strange conversion to the Hyde,
from Jekyll, restrained now inside. A strand of spit makes lemur leap. From sweaty skin, her musk will seep, and poison nose and lungs alike.

Black leather trance, a ghost romance, a stare too long, Ms. Right's so wrong! Forever singing our song...

Full Moon again...this time, my aggressive nature is overwhelming me, and I need the cool gyrations of a female physique...lunar to temper the solar!(Thank you J!)

I shall tell you of my tales of balancing the heat and energy soon!

High Five on Friday

I felt like Joan Jett in the heyday of the Blackhearts. Black bodice, buttery soft kid leather pants, black leather thong, and the newest Shoe Room debutantes: The black and gold leather boots! Speaking of five...five inch heels!

I smelled of herbal cigarettes and jasmine incense. And probably coffee, too, though the penetrating vapor of the incinerata was powerful. Amazing how smoke punches you in the face and flies away carelessly. I was prepared, potion in bosom, and as I lit the last candle...

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK!!

Innocuously dressed in black jeans and a military/outdoorsman jacket and baseball cap, an eager "Hello?" caught my left ear like a treble hook.

"Come in!"

He did. I immediately pulled the vial of brown powder from the ventral leather surface and instructed him to swallow. Dry dust goes down like....[I will make this an interactive story, Gentle Readers, and allow YOU to fill in something that does not penetrate well].

I whisked him down to the Theatre and thrust hiim inside to disrobe. I knew a black thong would be revealed...a simple, predictable, utterly delicious unwrapping!! The theme was Red and Black(bit of gold...for finesse!). Red Ass/Black Thong. Red sheath/Black handles Ninja Sword. Red wire/ in Black Cat o' 9s(allow my exaggeration for copper wire). Red velvet on Black Nylon Panties. I could go on, but that's enough to make my point.

I though it most intriguing to use the slant board in a more upright position. It leaned about 10 degrees from vertical, and easily accomodated him, strapped in with a corset-style lacing of hemp(safety first).

I knew he would be a lovely relief from a minor (self-induced) abstinance of about 10 days. Chastity is important for the true appreciation of the marvelous monument that he bears so prominently in my presence. I never lose the awe for the girth, nor the primal musk-induced craze that it catalyzes in my head, and then, gravitationally pulled downward. Of course, with enough control to maintain my decorum. I carefully cleaned the inside of the urethra with a long dental Q-Tip and swatted him, nary a drop of perspiration to be dabbed, with the Cat first, and then the sword(Yikes! Dull end to flesh, don't panic!)

Until the boots come off...

tbc

High Five on Friday (cont)

...when he was thrown to the floor(thin strip of berber loops betweeen his ass and uneven concrete). I slid like the Babe coming home, straddling his chest, a knee landing on each tricep(look it up anatomists!). Red velvet panties in the right hand, claw in the left. right hand smother, left hand jams the jaw shut, trapping my beast and instigating a thrashing and thumping of his lower trunk and legs.

I had to still him by sheathing HIS sword and stepping over each wrist with my fishnetted foot. Once it was safe to move, I maneuvered my hips over his navel, and held his wrists, gripping his outer thighs with my inner thighs. Alert signals were RED. Pythons were loose and preying! Never, Ever(ever? Never!) get stuck between my thighs and attempt(hahahahhha) to struggle!

Is it the Borg that says "Resistance is futile?"(Where are those techno geek virgins when you need them?-I will apologize for that in advance).

Well, wrestling your way out of my thighs is more futile. Futil-er. The futil-est! Futilicity at its best. Not to be confused with another deadly thing: Fugu. (I would like to try that someday-any invites?)

And that's when the cool facade turned into a hypertensive panting Vince McMahon special. Struggle! Strife! Slap to the Scrotum, scratch on my ass! Forearm over his throat, hand pulling the zipper IN the back of my neck.

Bam!

Pow!

Bif! (What the hell is bif?)

and then the Boot to My Face, Twitching, Shuddering Release!

The first...of a beautiful bouquet of five "blossomings"

It's amazing I could walk at work later that day...

Charity, Severity, Clarity, Dexterity....

I felt the power in my fist, as I clenched and squeezed the nails to flesh./
The arm in tension, with fierce intention,/
holding imaginary you.

I felt your hands under my own, pressed into the cement floor./
Our gaze in fusion, the scent infusion,/
rouse the nose with heated plume.

I felt your belly under mine, a fervent, futile feral fight! /
The blood starts coursing, intercoursing,/
united in a slither dance.

I felt the flow inside my self, a universal energy./
In dark twilight, our minds enlightened,/
following Infinity.

Ouch!

My lip is bleeding...and not my kissible grinchy grin! I rode the bike for the first time on Monday. I was juiced and demonic, as my rides tend to be. Even though I left a half hour early for my destination, I always race...Cars, you are behemoth racers! Motorcycles, you are just adrenalined bicycles on steroids. Both of you are my competition-and SHE's OFF!!

It brings me great pleasure to pass cars, even if they are turning or stopping for a turkey crossing(we have those here, you know!).

BUT,

the toll it takes on my genitalia! I repeat "Ouch"

The rings clang and bang into labia majora, swelling to the size of, well, a small penis.[If I may interrupt with a shamelfully honest revelation, the size of my engorged, bruised, injured external excitatory tissue is LARGER than at least one working male penis I have unveiled...yes, it was erect at the time. That image is "Self-esteem in a bottle" for ANY man!]

Back to the story...so as I rode home from Yoga, I did much levitating(not levity, which is NOT at all what my head was full of; rather nudity and ice...the heat was incredible!).

My pedalling feet, thanks to my newest slave, were Tasmanian Devil fast. and nothing else felt damaged, BUT,

My lovely lips!
My Infinite Pet will have a special prescription, I'm sure!

The Infinity Journal has begun!!
I have found livejournal . com, and I have begun the written/visual portion of my newest project. It is a very versatile site!

My name??? Infinitesero, of course!

In Pursuit of Infinity

I would write this in ALL CAPS, but that would be too pronounced for my subtle self. So I emphasize, unequivocally, the need to RETRACT. CONDENSE. FOCUS. I shall be on sporadically, posting to the journal, but I will put no effort into answering messages. I''m sorry. It has to be. Infinity calls me.

I have an artistic pursuit, with multifaceted realms of words, dance, music. I hope a video will be the culmination. I can say no more, and perhaps if all goes well, it will be something I can share with some of you. But PLEASE, respect SILENCE!

(sung tothe tune of Neil Young's "Ohio")

Some fishnet pantyhose and/
her white fur on her back./
Electric eel danger/
GE's under attack!/

The kitchen lightbulb faltered/
and then the porch bulb too!/
She pops them like balloons break/
under stiletto shoes./

Got a bulb-unscrew it,/
Watch when Sero's around!/
All of those lights lose their glow!/

4 dead in Sero's house./
4 lightbulbs she did blow./

Obviously, no Weird Al talent, but I try!

First, note the shoes-MEOWOWOW!

...and local footmen- open thine ears and eyes!! I have a job for you! Inquire if you are able to go out and play after midnight without turning into a pumpkin!

Dark Things

You mustn't let the dark things frighten. The rocks under which less vertebral things crawl is just as much home to them as our posh Pier One pillows are to sophisticated society.

Adaptation is the key to appreciation. In a recent (vanilla) discussion this weekend with a Mormon boy, I came to realize that his insecurities are a result of "what if?"

(Hand to forehead, Scarlett O'Harizing)
"What shall become of us if Hillary gets in the White House? What will happen if terrorists attack New York? What may occur if gas continues to rise? How will I survive?(whimper, bemoan, and otherwise sigh in martyred exhaustion)

Now, I have no qualms with his religion or his lifestyle or his values, but the whining fear about the "ghosts of things to come" put me in full Guru mode.
"I am here now and I am happy. No, content, for happiness is followed swiftly by UNhappiness" Until I see fit to change, I will continue on my flow of energy, which is calm energy, mental clarity, acceptance of and dignity for all things."

I'm not always that generous, but spiritually, this was a 5 year old boy in a 3 decade body. Didn't have the heart to impale him with searing sarcasm. Besides, I just unencumbered myself from a very clingy Velcro-footed bird, who I almost(and I do mean credit-card-in-hand-almost) brought home, so I was carrying much positive, loving energy.

But not to prescribe new rose colored glasses for this fellow, I left him with the notion that changes will come. They may be miniscule. They may be monstrous. Be prepared.

A new device, to poke and slice, with little sticks. Pentagram tricks on pale flesh, a skin and stainless metal mesh. Capped with rubber(safety first), but not before I quench my thirst! The ultimate in still restraint, and tiny! As I milk my paint, the redness travels down the base, stored in more secure place.

Sex, Laundry and Foot Care.

The triumverate of pleasures to make me an efficient, creative human being. The new sub, my Renaissance slave has been exceptionally attentive and enthusiastic. We have a "time warp" function, where somehow hours pass and it seems like we have just commenced our activities. It is a most pleasant and intricate connection.

My Infinite Pet is getting revved up as Spring is upon us, and I cannot deny my own Vital Energy, the Kundalini Snake! We have been planning many things since last year, and Now Is The Time! Out-of-doors abductions and abuses await..especially shrouded wooded stages that nature created for my Theatrics.

I will share more as I continue the pursuit...of the Edge!

Ben and Jerry's Newest Flavor

Beyond the double decadent chocolate...100% Pure Cacao! High Speed High Jinks on the Time-Space Continuum. I can't carry excess baggage, mass prefers to change from a solid heavy density to light, kinetic energy.

Double Trouble

Friday was the Reserved Day of Decadence. ( inked into the schedule 2 weeks hence!) Little, however, was reserved on that day. What might have been an Excursion into Inversion had to be changed to a Scar in the Car(If I were more colloquial I would have called it a **** in the Truck). Schedules tightened so that we had a precious hour and a half to play, to decorate, to deviate. But what awaited could not have been planned, nor imagined!!

tbc...

More Double Trouble

I am adept at dressing in my vehicle. It is easier than explaining why I am wearing a satin corset, black leather skirt and fishnets as I leave work. It took 3 minutes. Almost a record! Last but not least, the 5 inch Heel Mary Janes, not to be confused with my 5 inch Wedge MJ or my 4 inch Chunky Heel MJ, or even the 2 inch chunky heel...
ButI jumped out of the vehicle into my chariot awaiting, and I began to strip him down in the backseat. Tinted windows prevented the other cars from suspecting, but a loud clear voice drifted in from the direction of the hood of the car. Yikes! Drat! and other Charlie Brown expletives! we ducked, actually flattened inthe back seat, my skirt now functioning more as a belt, he with his pants acting as ankle manacles. Just when I was in the mood for sanguine CBT! Diverrsity in our perversity-I pushed his forehead into the door, sucked the breath out of his mouth with my minty moistened lips, and covered his nose and mouth with my hands as we lay prone, stacked, like bread waiting to be turned into "sandwich"(please fill in the appropriate "meat" sexual innuendo as you choose, I won't be offended). Inhale, HOLD, cover and press the lips shut, palm the jaw closed, watch the vital signs change. Delightful! (For the full aesthetic version, I have a poem called "Breathless"-you may request).

I looked up, only to be startled by a face peering into the side window, though the blackening prevented his recognition of my surprised facade. They were walking around the car for what seemed like a half hour, though it was probably only 10 minutes. Still, it was mildly disconcerting, knowing that we had an unwelcome audience circling like JAWS. I imagine they were just intrigued by his unique vehicle. If they had tried to enter without authorization...weapons engage! Never taunt a carnivorous Ms. preying on her favorite sub snack!

As a postlude to the excitement, we finished our fleshy explorations and he presented me with Phase 1 of the the birthday gift.
I will post the shoe pics soon. They are Betsey Johnson's simultaneous tribute to the wildlife of Africa and Elvis. FabU!

I don't know why it seems so long ago that I have journalized.? Time is not a little soldier, goose-stepping forward with seething regularity.? Rather, it is a stalker, who lurks quietly and at the right moment, steals and scurries.? Or perhaps a predator in wait, leaping swiftly and racing off.? Nonetheless, you get the idea-quick intense bursts rather than a steady flow.? This does not vex me.
--------------------------------------------
Wednesday was such a day.? I anticipated a hermit-ic existence, as there were no morning classes, and the Infinite Pet was chaperoning a trip(He is a beautiful alarm clock!).? Off she goes: putz, wander, meddle, peruse, organize, label...not NASA important.? The afternoon was going to be curtailed, as I needed to replace a headlight.? Then, the POP!
---------------------------------------
Brringgg!!????????????????
"Guess what!?" ? ? ? ? ? The trip was cancelled, so the Infinite Pet had an entire day cleared for nothing in particular.? Now, the escargot pace assumed a new level of intensity, something on the order of an Angel Dust bunny(as opposed to an angel dustbunny, which might? be immediately shipped to the Vatican for enclosure in glass) with a TENS unit attached to its eyeballs.? I paced while the bulb was unscrewed, and rescrewed, and dashed back home to organize the Theatre and take a shower.? A thumping in the chest created? a most obvious clock, ticking away, as I was going to have to rival lightning to meet him and steal him from our special spot. tickticktickticktick........

But then, driving in, skirt askew, I arrive just minutes before, with enough time to inhale a liquid mint and sufficiently mentholate my face.

It was so wonderful to be back in the Theatre again, as the Winter makes it a little too chilly. (ice=/= erectile tissue).
?I was blissfully revelling in? my flesh toy,? making lovely symmetrical designs with 21 gauge "probes."
----------------------------------------
...and now back to the turtle.

Just hatched!

Today is my birthday- a lovely rebirth , lik e a phoenix from the ashes. I feel as though every year, rather than the march toward Death, is a complete cycle unto itself. This day, being the first day of ME at 36. I feel it too-the vitality, the clarity, the ebullience of a new year. But the dilemma now dances and dangles itself like a puppet with a set of hidden strings: How shall I make this year my own? What will be my aspiration? My inspiration? My expiration is again March 26, 2008, when the cycle begins again, reborn in a slightly new way.

This year, however, I shall do what I have done, with a greater intensity and resolve. A move in the extreme direction using the talents I have honed to this point. I have searched beyond, and the truth, my path, is one of simplicity. I will make more vibrant the already beautiful colors of my ashy wings.

contortion, Yoga, birds, cauldron concoctions, deviant toy design...you will see these topics return!

Thank you to all my birthday wishers!

If there are any educated mystics out there, please tell me what you can about an Ibbur.

Notes to myself:

Sacrifascia,
sacred skin

probe the outside from within

bloody tissue holds the key to your inner history.

My Renaissance Slave

A diverse man is needed for various and sundry tasks. A duty calls him, like a clarion several miles down the road. He comes simply, not a gallant white knight, but a yeoman, a laborer in the fields of chaos.
With rugged determination, he conquers the various challenges, and gains notoreity as a humble warrior for the Queendom.

Now I have a Foot Man AND a Laundry Slave, all in the same person.

Life is good.

Thank you for all your good wishes, those who have emailed.

I was quite surprised today with a new lady Luna. I hope CM approves her!

I shall be out of communication for some time.

I have lost the best friend that could be imagined. If you look through the photos, Scooter, my rainbow companion, crawled in my lap and died this morning. She went instantly, peacefully, and with full awareness, exactly as I would choose. I believe she is now cosmically infused with my soul, in an intimate, infinite bond.

Thank you for your patience in advance.

Campbell's Soup

Sweetened canned milk

Bergey's Manual

Roget's Thesaurus

Frozen juice

the "For Dummies" series of How-To books

Sero's adventures

Not a game of Password, but "Things that are CONDENSED"

I am moving inward, so that I may project outward at a later time. Artistic imperative, you see.

What this means for you is that:

1. I am not accepting new subs.
2. I will have less free "play" time and more focus on my artistic pursuits. If you cannot integrally expediate a necessary Work activity, please do not email.
3. Those emails I will answer must be resplendent with content and proper format. Please be attentive to how you present yourself.

I sincerely hope the latest male to be swept into my whirlwind maintains his devotion. He has communicated his interest in my language: extreme. As my newest foot man, he surprised me by attending to my feet with strong hands, sharp wit and a parrafin bath! Yes, it was a glorious evening spent with my naked legs draping his lap, swirled in the aroma of candy apple lotion and cinnamon incense. It is difficult to settle my bendy behind, but a thorough foot treatment, and his was remarkably complete, can make me purr!!

It just takes a little thought, 2 neurons to rub together....

I will keep the world posted on my foot metamorphosis.

Orgasmic deflation makes time dilation. Tick tock-a sticky clock is slowly winding down, like a pendulum of osmium. I see things as profound those notes which hum in the background. A muffled sound, a soft slight touch will pound too much stimulation into this rubber brain. A moment, simple, plain, free - me!

OOoooh! A new Tab!
Block all chat requests.

I always have, but now it's official!

The Ghost of Henry Higgins

I think about Eliza. Maybe this came from yesterday's shopping trip, where Elise was my clerk. She had big brown eyes, and the frumpiest synthetic sweater even a grandma could hate. Hair askew, glasses, boy style chinos. There's some CLAY!

My Fair Lady she is not(yet!), but I have dreams of finding that rough jagged unpolished gem, and transforming her into a sidekick siren. Ugly duck/swan, phoenix, whatever analogy you would like...

But the Libido is the accessory missing when I come across a beautiful woman trapped in a stress filled unkempt body. This is not to say I am judgemental; rather, I understand how it is to have 18 plates spinning and no dustpan to clean them up when they shatter. I would like to give them a moment of "ahh" much as I get as I sit typing this pithy prose and sipping my Mate' tea. Perhaps why I love to teach Yoga.

Back to Elise...
I would start with the clothes. Makeover shows take you into this hyper reality, cartoon fashion demon, plastic mask included, so that you present an image you will Never Use in Real Life. I would put her in a simple black ensemble. Black pants, white blouse, long fitted blazer, chunky heels, perhaps on an ankle boot. Or one of those rounded toe pumps, still with a thick heel, and black with black hose or perhaps a daring pattern on trouser socks. As for the cranium, she wore no makeup, so why start now?! Maybe some Burt's Bee's lip conditioner in a flesh color. Beauty is simple, and the frame dare not detract from the picture. Hair. Hmmm..
It was ponytailed, but she might look a little sleeker with a low single braid, but the silicone shine stuff to smooth the flyaways.

Above all, an honest smile. That was missing. I tried to give her the close mouthed, the quirky smirk, even the wink, but she was too stony and rushed with the line of customers. Maybe if I took her to the Shoe Room...

The Blues

Not the Winter Blues, or Blues Clues, or the hues of denim, but the MUSIC-the Blues.
I have been listening to Sirius 74, just one up from my favorite New Age station, and I love it!

Where else can you find lyrics like:
"My old man left me at 3:30, and I had a new one by four."
"Nobody loves me except my mama, and she might be jivin' too"
...and the list goes on.
I do find the music quite earthy and sexual, and it seems to be a necessary addition to my limited repetoire of acceptable stations.

and no commercials!

It's a mixed blessing: the Browse Photos tab.
I try to put amusing, intruguing, artistic shots on the profile, though some have been rejected due to the list of rules thicker than the US tax code volume in Legally Blind large print. So I often entertain myself with a scan of others' visual stimuli. This is like my double edged dagger, encased in the dragon sheath. Some photos are SO haunting that I have had to write immediately to the member to praise them. Others....well,

Did you ever buy a bunch of grapes, perhaps eating them as you are watching a movie, and suddenly find this horrid taste and texture in your mouth? Akin to a piece of outdoor carpet that has been used as outhouse flooring? And in spitting out such a hideously vile specimen, discover that the grape you ate was moldy? Or perhaps you receive the same cruel surprise in a little scene called "Band-Aid Hamburger." Nonetheless, either scenario is a solid substitute for the occassional, and they are rare, but vomit-on-your-shoes disturbing.

Yes, there are a few select putridities that belong in the H.G.Wells wishlist for "A Time Machine so I could not have pressed that View More button the last time."

Sometimes reality is not pretty.

The most humorous thing I've encounterd since Happy Bunny's blistering tongue:

A fortune cookie.

"It's about time I got out of this cookie"

I had to read it twice-and it gets funnier every time!

regarding the new pic: Oops! it didn't take! I'll get to that this week!

How do I express my gratitude to the wonderfully generous Infinite Universe which delivered faster than(get ready for this analogy!): a UPS driver on crack who just drank a gallon of beer and hadn't urinated yet,

a Richard Simmons failure going down a water slide coated in 100 jars of petroleum,

or,

particular red head Domme, upon hearing of a 99% clearance sale on leather boots, gets dressed from her kimono, out the door, and to the Store of Paradise and other Footwear.

I'll stop now.

But I do amaze at the circumstances which allow myself and The other Infinite One to unite. On Friday, as locals might attest, our white deluge was still decorating the roads to the extent that we had the third snow day in a row! While this frees me immensely, it complicates his schedule, as his children would be home too. Our almost perfect plans!? argh!! I even lost my voice on Monday, but through an intense regimen of herbs, tea, and sinus cleanses, I was able to bring myself back from drippy microbial infestation. To have it all ruined for extravagant excessive precipitation would be unthinkable! With little sleep, I toiled around the house during the wee hours of Friday, working on home projects and fretting about the injustice of it all. Asterisks and other expletive euphemisms aside, I suppose I settled into the notion that we would postpone a 2 week plan, Inversion and other Nude Yogic bondage, around 7 am. I showered, and almost comically, was interrupted with a call(I have on more than one occassion answered in the shower, but SHH! don't tell Verizon!)

"Hello Uber Frau!"
"Hello. Just in the shower..."
"I apologize for the inconvenience, but I'm going to be an hour late."
three sizes that day!>
"Wonderful!"
"I have to transport some people and then I shall be free. I'll call as I approach."

While I sometimes capture him, there I times when I just summon him. I would not have guessed, though, his ability to manipulate things to arrive just a tad later than the original ETA. DEDICATION. DEVOTION. OBEDIENCE. Living the promise of our first encounter...

As a testament to our most intriguing event, I was having difficulty with vertical on Saturday, preferring the comfort of the placid horizontal. I have also acquired new neck piercings, a decorative exoskeleton.

In our next episode: The CBT board meets the Iron pipes!

Diner Talk
(all the country fried chatter mar'nated in their own juices)

"Don't be stupid-you gotta know which sodie pop goes with what. Like the grape Never goes with the Chicken Pot Pie!"

"Then what goes with biscuits and gravy?"

"Ginger Ale."

"How about Rut Beer?"

"Pork BBQ."

"And Western Omelettes?"

"Don't be stupid. You don't drink sodie with breakfast"

"I do. Mountain Dew or Red Bull."

"You're s'posed to have coffee, dummy"

"But I don't like coffee. I like sodie."

"Then you best marry a dentist 'cause all that sugar'll rot your teeth."

"Hmm."

"Now What?"

"Well what Does Mountain Dew go with?"

"Hell if I know! Looks like someone took a leak in the can after they drank the soda. That's like that Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. There's no food in the world with that sunny yellow color unless we throw in some crap to make it that way!"

"You're right about Macaroni...but I Like Mac and cheese, especially when you put ketchup on top."

"Can't teach you nothin'. Always gonna be low class...Hey Hon, when you get a chance, could you bring more coffee? Thanks sweetheart. Oh and bring me A1 for my Cheese steak. Now this is class!"

Acids

Acerbic wit/
ascorbic gut/
Acetic smile/
Please, stay a while!

Caudal restraint..

tbc

Perhaps it is my Yogic nature, to seek bliss, to promote good karma, or simply to save all of the darkness for Theatre Shows,
But

For all of the pitiful sorts I find on this site and in life, I still do not get discouraged or bitter. In fact today, I had a long lost "What's Your Name" call, to which I didn't answer, but whose complete lack of dedication provided a most glamorous picture frame for the granite-willed exuberance and devotion of My Infinite Pet.

I almost had to capture him to beat him into silence, he was so enthusiastic on Wednesday. Telepathy practice, you see!

RING!!! 6:36 am
"What were you getting?"
A blurry, cotton-mouthed "hello?"
"Did you receive my transmission?"
"I'm not through the haze yet...let me wake up."

RING! 6:40 am
"What are you doing?"
"I'm still opening my eyes. It's my late day today"
"Did you perceive an image last night? I also sent one this morning."
"Not that I recall, but I'm still horizontal, so I might be more lucid after I have my tea."
....and the chatter went on about what images he received, filled in with some of his own detail and intention.

And so it went. You would think I had a direct line, like two tin cans on a string, to him, as every number in my phone list for several screen was his. Telepathy success sparked an interest, obviously, but I was not prepared for such a voluminous reponse.
"Don't you have patients to see?"

Nonetheless, perfection through nightly practice is our goal. We seek to achieve crystal clarity and precise details...Kairos!

Achtung!
If you email, please have a purpose in doing so.

"hi" is a phrase like dandruff...

Pat the Bunny

A children's book...
A grownup game...
An interlude...
A stake to claim...

I walk with pride
to Madame's side,
and offer winks
and other charms.
A fur-clad darling
strolling by.
Facade melts fast
as we exchange
Word for word.
Flirtatious glance.
But in my head,
and fingertips,
brazen clarion:
for her carrion,
cleaned and groomed
and tamed to touch.
I lubricate
the space between
with gentle queries,
sincere flatteries,
Ease my hand
to feel her hide.
So warm inside!
Silky smooth,
this shell of flesh!
I pet and purr
as I indulge
hand in fur.
Bristles bite
as I contest-
an upward stroke,
against the nap.
A coo exudes
quite suddenly!
Graciously,
I thank the Queen.
Offering piece
of her heat bounty.
She waltzes off,
myself, a trot.
Phantom prickles
in my palm-
ghostly hairs
still haunting me!
I smile again,
romanticize,
as sometimes I
walk dignified,
the stately lady
inside the hide.

A miraculous breakthrough! Telepathy!

I shall give my impressions at a later time, when all has been sorted out, but just know, cerebral warriors, that it is possible!

How does a predator hunt? She waits.
How does a predator kill? She waits.
How does a predator survive? She waits.

The right moment,
an air current,
a waft pungent,
a bloodthirsty growl.

   An insatiable,
   barely restrainable,
   untameable ferocity.

But somewhere, she waits. She watches. She shifts. She breathes. She knows. She leaps. She shrieks. She maims. She bleeds. She feasts. She streaks. She hides. She waits.

A Real Heel

Although it is not summer, imagine the trip to the quaint little ice cream shoppe, where they make creamy confections all year round(Incidentally, we have 3 dairies nearby that offer such marvelous treats; however, I don't eat ice cream!).What color does the twisty cone of ice cream become when it melts?Does the chocolate get bleached into a vanilla puddle? no. It all goes dark. Such was Saturday.

I was trying on shoes at a department store, no intention of purchasing, but fun nonetheless to slither into the soles. It was near the Men's outerwear, where a man was indeed trying on a coat. He asked my opinion of his selection to which I replied "It looks warm." I did not encourage communication, but I noticed he couldn't help watching my slipping and un-slipping. He mentioned that he was fascinated with my shoe adorning. "Thank you", I replied, "and I have a whole shoe room at home in which to try on the delectable pairs." After I had tried on the last of several pairs, noticing that he was still mesmerized in the moment, he asked me to try on one more pair, which is akin to asking the Pope to bless one more quadriplegic. "Of course...let's see...which ones?" I lingered over the racks, but sat down just in time to see the drool topple over his lip like a Niagara Falls barrel plummeting. I could tell his machinations were not strictly foot-related. But I imagine that if he noticed the toes in tights, he might have a foot fetish, and he might have potential as a Shoe Polisher. Please don't take this position frivolously, Gentle Readers, as it is a Most Important and(should be) coveted Position, to be rewarded justly.

So the Fishing begins...the lure...Foot Attendant.

"I would be interested in someone who cares as much about my feet as I do."


His response hinted at vanilla."I'd like to see more than your feet!"


Still, I persisted, trying to tease a cowering fetishist out of the darkness. "I USED to have a foot man, who would come over and take care of my legs and feet, but he's not with me any longer," my eyelashes batting.


"I would take care of everything," hissed as he straightens the curl on his Snidely Whiplash handlebar moustache.


A coy coo, "But I only need a foot man. Do you have other talents or skills I could use?"


"I'd love to get between those legs."

VANILLA CITY! And so plain and tasteless at that!

How dissappointing! But the serial continues after this brief commercial message...

...now, back to the story!

But being in control is what I do well. So I lobbed back at him: "I don't need a boyfriend, a husband, or even a lover-I do have that well taken care of."
"But I need things done around the house."

He responded more meekly,"I can do carpentry or car repair."

"Then give me your number and when I need you I'll call."

"I'll be outside."

Which he was. Outside. As I finished shopping, I saw him in his car waiting, and when he saw me, he began beeping. I approached and opened the door.

"Get in."
I sat in the passenger's seat and his eyes dropped to my black nyloned legs.

"I have to say, I've never done anything like that before-I mean, I couldn't help myself! I love the way your legs look, the way you cross them..."

(Note: Gentle Readers, though my face was peering interestedly at him, even using the occassional nod in the "I'm Listening to You Kit" my head was nearly breathless from laughter and my eyes were maintaining stillness, though they did want to roll several times)

I simply stated,"I know the value of the legs, and everything else. I don't think you realize the market you're in. You're not shopping at KMart here!"

"Can I touch your legs?"

"No, that's not possible."

"How much do you want?"

"It's not a monetary thing-I want devotees! People with skills, talents, conversations, passions!" And while those people are very generous to me, it is our connection more than anything that I value."

Like reading Shakespeare to a red ass orangutan:
"I'd love to give you head."

A little hotter in the retort: "Do you think this is a public playground!?! I don't just open up to everyone who wants it!"

[If you're reading this in public, swallow your drink first-you'll spew!]

"I'll give you 20 bucks."

While inside, I wanted to chortle till I choked, I had to keep the mirage of apathy:
"What! I'm quite insulted. I've had people give more just to touch my feet! I find you offensive!"

And with a melodramatic door slam, rivalling a Scarlet O'Hara departure, I left, laughing all the way to my car!

Magic 8 Ball Responses

If you get one, you know I am as enthusiastic as a pachyderm colonoscopy technician.
Such words include:
Yes.
No.
Thank you.
Very good.
I am too polite to just delete your existence, yet, I refuse to have meaningless conversation.

Just me.

...Like an Angel descended...

so I felt. As though there was a perfect matrix of reality in which I was sent down to double check the alignment.
One of those days where listening to your breath is all you need.

It began when I was in line behind a man with a LOT of groceries. To pass the time between the "boop"s of the cash register, he was lobbing cute comments to the cashier, a young, sullen boy with a Death Masque rivalling Mr. G. Reaper. Not a bit of his humor penetrated the icy stare, and while I turned a lip corner skyward, I decided not to get involved inthe conversation. Nonetheless, seeing a knight in distress, this damsel bravely entered the battlefield with courtesy card in hand, ready to save him many nickels and dimes. He left, pushing his palette, and I began my simple order, which includes marine life.

***NOTE to Fishermen/women***
I will graciously accept any abundance of your catches, especially now that I have a freezer chest!

Back to the store...Grocery man followed me out and called to me, waving a piece of paper. He thanked me by buying me a lottery ticket! He said ""All good deeds are recognized."

Interesting...

Then I then went furniture shopping(as I have none), but the store of overstuffed things wasn't open yet, so in the meantime I went into the indoor flea market behind the building. I was speaking with a man at a hardware stand, who gave me a chill as I shook his hand. Actually, he turned his pinky toward me and we locked them. Secret society stuff?? Whatever it was, I felt a cold blast of heat, like Icy Hot on my arms, back, neck. With a wink, he said:" You know what I'm thinking" Which could be many things, but I had the notion that there was an innocence to it. As I was leaving, he implored me to take anything I wanted. Hmm...Not to be greedy, I gathered a handful of screws, which I will need for some of my unique projects.
Then...
My love of antiquity comes to fruition!
As I was walking out to go to the store of expensive glass-topped things, an Old piece dropped itself in front of me! It was an antique chaise lounge, with a carved wood back and feet. The lure and hook was the comfort, or should I say "firmness" of the cushion. It is supported by springs. While I waited for the antique dealer to plead with his wife to part with the chair, I lounged on my newest addition to the Abode. Theatre stuff? No-I'll keep this upstairs. He was so apologetic about not having the chair that he delivered it to my house immediately(PS-I really didn't need the chair, but SHHHH!) .
I dashed to the fabric store for new upholstery material(black and gold oriental brocade) and tacks. Of course, BOTH were on sale.
My week's project is now underway.

Chaise Lounge?
I don't lounge; I don't even sit. But occassionally I watch a movie, or just need a moment of horizontality. As I lay, however, it occurred to me how "open" the end was for, hmm, let me see, oh yes, for a body to lay in a supplicant position over my nakedness.

Only Vanilla? Do you at least have Sprinkles?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I like routine (OCDish-remember?). I have made an adventure of salad. It's a challenge to make vegetables amusing sometimes, but leave it to me-mashed potatoes take on the appeal of alabaster to Michaelangelo. I would try every restaurant, supermarket, take-out place, etc. that had salad fixin's(how colloquial! I feel like I should be slinging a banjo!). I worked methodically in a 20 mile radius, starting north, above Scranton, and every day, working down past my abode, as well as in the vicinity of my employment. Idle Minds...

One particularly bad experience involved Broadway Pizza. I'll name it so as to dissuade you, Gentle Readers, from the traumatic dining experience I had. I walked in before class one night. There were 2 people waiting for orders and a woman who was picking up an order. I waited several minutes to place mine-Large Salad, select toppings, nothing complex as, say, Pizza! I then waited by the counter and observed my breath. After a few minutes, a discussion ensued about 3 boxes of pizza-"What to do?" as they were the wrong order, but left untouched. Garbage was the verdict(I won't begin on the wastefulness of it all). Then, the woman who ordered as I entered re-emerged! The crusts were burnt. Hmm...as I wait 10 minutes, I am losing hope for a satisfying conglomeration of vegetation. My caveat was that the dressing goes ON THE SIDE. Indeed, a radical departure, but I insist. I finally get the salad after 20 minutes of standing rather impatiently. Intuitively, I knew to look at the Pandora's Styrofoam Box, and Behold!! Croutons, Olives and dressing splattered all over the lettuce! Yikes! My naked boys have better control of their fluids! I specifically requested none of those things, and yet, when I took it back, I received a puzzled look from Homer Simps..I mean the "chef" working there. The owner shook his head, sighed and gave me my money , as this was the third mishap in about 1/2 hour. I imagine a pink slip is on the way, and it's not a cute little dress!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Which brings me to the Vanilla dessert. I found my place. Only 7 minutes from the house, it's a little Italian place called Frankie's which stays open late enough for me to pick up after class, and even has delivery for when I'm too cold to leave my hell-basement. I began by lobbing an easy order. A Caesar salad, no cheese or croutons. Thta's basically lettuce and onions and a few love apples(tomatoes, you see). The remarkable thing, when you order the same thing every day, is that the minutiae of salad creation becomes so noticeable! The first item of praise was the lettuce-cut fresh while I waited. Excellent!! As I watched in awe, all of the vegetables were Dahmerized. AND he asked me if I wanted something BEFORE he put it on the salad, so that I received exactly what I require. In an exhilarting footnote to the quality of edibles, he arranged the topping in little mounds, so that no items were touching each other. I don't have a phobia, but individual pepper hills across the great lettuce landscape from the onion trail is so aesthetically correct. Dressing on the side-goes without saying, but I did anyway. I even(good chef sub!) was queried about what ratio to make the oil and vinegar! Perhaps he has a touch of the OCD. It IS by far the cleanest pizza place I've seen...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The salad saga continues, and I have been gracing Frankie's with my patronage ever since that first fateful munch. Last night took a new turn however. In what can only be described as a Salem Witch frenzy, I requested basil be sprinkled liberally over the masterpiece. This order I called in, as now my name became equated with "La Salad de Grandiose." Later that evening, my salad boy called back-> Just to check how I enjoyed the salad ->also to check that he didn't overdo the basil. I believe THAT, Gentle Readers, is the definition of SERVICE!

P.S. Motivation for chef boy may be something additional to a strong work ethic,but he is so accomodating, perhaps he has other uses.

...and so the thoughts go...I watch them, like little kids, to the bus, bundled, down-stuffed and tied, a Thanksgiving Turkey in synthetic fibers. They run, and I flinch, hoping they won't be sliced, crushed, or worse, ignored. And for all their energy, they assemble, roll call formation, a perfect poem!

This has been my experience as of late-words just know where to go on the page. I have a Big(translated:inflated to zeppelin proportions) writing project that gelled in my head llike a Bill Cosby commercial last night. I can't wait to stick the spoon into that perfect pure jello skin and dig in!

Like dissolves like - a common mantra in Chemistry, to describe the solubility of a substance in another. Likewise, the description of how people can connect to each other.

I suppose for me, the thread which seems to be as prominent as the blue veins popping through the back of the hand of an elderly man is OCD.

If I had to have a mental knot, it would be pulled tightly around ritual and repetition in a most orderly fashion. Why, how would I have these lofty poetic thoughts if my head had to deduce which cabinet the green tea was in, or where I kicked off the black boots?(No, I would never just "kick off" boots. They have designated posts in the shoe-sole-ful sentries!)

I don't have OCD, but I can certainly relate-tendencies, but no meds.

And I like other whose heads are equally tickled with the same. When great minds join...
Wonder twin powers activate!

A Reluctant Winter
____________________________________
Time to die, but not THIS time.
Our whip lash cold is temperate.
However we may long for Spring,
Life needs death from which to rise.
The ashen matter of the flesh,
the minerals which seep and swim-
In water soaking terra's heart-
will enter into embryos
of gustatory greenery
and nourish biped animals,
quad-waddlers and slitherines.
So it seems the verdict reads
an ice reprieve, which shall alleve
the shoulder strain, the lumbar pain.
Many calendar boxes hence
may suffer in yet unknown ways.
So into tropic winter, ski!

Little thoughts, big effect.

I hosted my Diabolique boy this weekend. He's most adorable, and he is just so "teddy bear" that I can't truly exhibit my sadism in its raging PMS-type fury. So I soften-s l i g h t l y!

We shopped at Home Depot. I have a yet-unnamed iron "couch", hardly worth the effort of sitting, if comfort is what you seek. Rather, a cage that allows one to sit or lay on a variety of materials, one of which is beautiful white marble, veined with red. Of course, he is thoughtful, and presented me with a HD gift card, and the best thought of all...

(I know you may be thinking "how unglamorous", but I defer to the overwhelming care for my well being)
a fire extinguisher!
Yes.
And it does come in handy with my Vatican worthy arrangement of candles!

Needless to say, I not only have new toys to create, but I may do so safely by candlelight, or perhaps experiment with repairing my propane grill.

As part of my teasing torment, I attached the Tiggler(a small vibrating piercing) in the genital piercing and perched Kali-like over his prone physique. I just touched the tip of the Tiggler to his most erect apparatus, which resulted in a tiny tremor. Over his nipples, same result.
It was quite fun, and most challenging to my thighs, but Yogic balances are my strength.

Simplicity, Eccentricity, Electricity!

Openings

Little holes, little tears, tears may sometimes leak without./ No control, innate fear, substitute intrigue for doubt/ and open/open/let air come in/free from your head cage which crushes you in/open/open/without a sound/your bondage is loosened/ your head is unbound/

for now...

ANTS

They scurry into crevices./ The ants are hard at work./ Mindless six-limbed hum derives/ like stroking chords ad infinite./ No string-ed music in this tribe- / a hill to climb, a nest to hide,/ a hive-bound drive, / silent footsteps, erratic stride. / A looming eye, from skyward, spies! / Tsunami tide of rubber: "Die!"/ A perfect world has gone awry! / Frenzy somehow amplified, /and Chaos sheds her dark disguise./ Crunching of the exospine / vociferates the Grand Design./Hierarchies well-defined:/ cerebral density decides / what can live and what expires./ Slaves to primal appetites./ Reproducing like a fire, / they substitute the dead for live,/ without a pause, without a "why?"/And not one wishes to be a fly!

Rain->Flood->Drought.

It seems nature and I have this propensity for cycles. Likewise, Wolf Moon(January's fullest!)->crescent sliver. I had my FILL, in the light of this fullest orb, of most beautiful, sensual, intellectual, and mystical pleasures.

Headless writings

Girls and boys
can play with toys
in cooperation.
Like chimpanzees,
we learn to please
each other through oration.
But when a humm
or wayward thumb
entices masturbation.
We all can share
the scented air
and order the location

Project.

Ever see Martha Stewart's Living pretentiously with OCD? I think it's just "living" but the rest is appropos. I give myself projects, though they are not as Xanadau-accessible as some of her machinations. Still, with much time on my hands, I can relate to the need for pointless household activity.

The most recent project is the cedar closet. I have a lovely and sturdy wire frame that holds clothes, and with the new installation of my gas heater in the basement(no, I didn't do it myself, but I'm thinking about taking some plumbing classes!) heat is abundant. It was only a natural extension that washer->dryer->rack system should be accented by aromatic cedar! So I enclosed the frame in cedar planks, including a bench for drying sweaters, and for roasting myself medium rare. I absolutely plan on sitting in it like a mini-sauna. I do have a meditation bench, which allows one to kneel, but without a backrest. I re-upholstered it in leather(don't ask, you should know-> black!) and set it up in front of the heat. I breathe. I think, therefore I am...hot! (Not quite Descartes, but it's MY journal)

time for the curtains.
The cedar rack is simply for drying, but the other racks will house the garments, in what can only be visualized as a dry cleaner running a 2-for-1 special: abundant clothes!! I have many that do not deserve to be crammed into a small closet, so I have dedicated a portion of the basement to clothes racks, curtained off for aesthetics, so that my meditation section is uncluttered, as my head should be.

and then there's the Theatre...
That's a Scheherezade tale!

Welcome to 2007.

For me, the real New Year is the Chinese New Year, which occurs in February. I like the extravagance of their celebration, which is comparatively quiet. It is a most cheery festival, though, with red being the pre-dominant color, a hue for good luck. The animal images figure prominently as well, with dragons and snakes romping through the streets in a parade(in China, not here!) I like my reptiles.

and sushi-did I mention that I lovelovelove raw fish? It's worthy of another mention:
I am enamoured with the gustatory glamour of a carnivore's delight: a ginger-coated bite!

(caution: contains graphic descriptions-don't they all?)

ouch.

Physical bodies, as bdsm will teach you, are transient things, malleable things, most interesting toys, but sometimes p-e-r-f-o-r-a-t-a-b-l-e.
It's good that I have lots of medical equipment, as I almost gave myself a surgical staple to stop the red river in my palm.

I was washing glassware at work(I know I could rape comp for this sans strap-on, but I won't). I reached in the sink to pick out a piece and like a ghost spear, it plunged into my hand, though without the banshee yell.
Those little fat pouches trapped within the muscles started poking through the space once bound by skin. Like a little bunch of champagne grapes! I was fascinated for a few minutes, and sat down to explore my inner anatomy. I had a sterile blood lancet, so I poked at one, but the globe was quite rigid and slippery. I thought it best to push things back and seal it up before I gave little placecards to Mr. Staph Aureus, or Ms. E. Coli, as the open wound can be quite a tasty buffet for the proper guests.

Fortunately, my superior powers of healing now require only a band-aid, though the Infinite Pet was willing to give me a stitch, without the dictionary sized stack of papers Blue Cross would require.

But it's the attitude-fascination, not trepidation, at the wonders of the human body!

Testing 1,2

A Sound check-making sure my rings are sound before they handle the roller coaster flow that is the Kundalini. OK!

I had my backside handle bars adjusted yesterday. The tunnels of flesh are healing nicely, but to secure them, we placed rings on both ends, rather than the balls previously attached. I had intentions of doing this eventually, and yesterday was eventually. This will accomodate a chain thong, which looks just as it sounds-chain front to back, around the hips. Voila!

And then the test...

Can the metallica withstand the powerful surges of Kundalini energy?? This slippery serpent, the sexual predator personified, is known for travelling up and down the spine to engage to enrage me in libidinosity! Now who will be my willing victim?

The Infinite Pet is courageous enough to explore...

We begin on the rack, hands free, legs bound(though I rarely snare him-why would he go?!?)
Plug in.
At least a 120 surge...maybe 220? who knows?
The rapid descent, like the whoosh of a slide, was not linear this time. Rather, it plummetted, with a quick snap up seemingly into the new loop of rings/bars, and once it discovered where it was, slithered into the orifice and out of the tethers of the flesh body.

Functionally Decorative-as is all my Art!

A-Musings

I though about My Infinite Pet. Our relations are diverse, and surgically intimate at times.
I thought about our polarities: male and female, top and bottom exchanges, and somtimes one is not so clear as to who is Yanging whose Yin. Nonetheless, we DO share energy, stir forces within, create...

Even God would scratch his skullcap at how we might make another human, I, having reached menopause around 28, and he, in the ultimate testicular bondage: clamped and snipped! But Fertility does not always come with an umbilical cord!!

When I am rendering him helpless, my presence floating above him, and descending, until I am pressed flesh to flesh, in fact interlocked(please throw away the key!), our union is not simply doubling of the chomosomes. It is advanced beyond the body. Our energy, combining in the sacred darkness, births a new creation, an energy body, a force, a kinetic dynamo. It is expansive and diverse, and omnipresent, as clear and impressive as the wail from a colicky infant.

It is a blessing and responsibility, that which we create. Sometimes our creations are small and simple and stay within us, in our flesh, but other times, our energy concoction is so powerful that it projects itself outward and makes great things; if I may be so bold as to say many of my writings are a product of our union.

Even beyond the wordless pleasures, there is a wholeness, as though 2 domes are brought together to make the Sphere. It IS right. It IS good. It IS beyond our control. It IS obvious. Labelling is futile; it simply IS.

The Perfect Woman

Is it her bottom? Round, blossoms like a rose as she bends to reach her toes?
Is it her face, with a dimpled out space and a gaze that confers grace?
Is it her hair, a crimson lair, a web ensnares her men to stare?

No, I think it's the laryngitis.

I've been asked to teach a course in this to several colleagues' wives. Obviously Doms -in-the-rough.

Shoe Room Baptism

"Get on the coat"

He lay on the inside lining of the Muskrat coat, as ordered, obedient imp.

"Face down"

Again, as ordered.

Amongst the shoes and furs, a drag queen paradise, a foot fetish library, the wood floors still felt cold and harsh, though the coat provided one part of the sandwich that was to be topped with a layer of black latex followed by his Mistress.

Until the heat flared in the house, the little chill caused bumps and shivers.

Or was it her large buckled boots?

She smelled his hair-Fahrenheit! Pressed into him, her breasts wearing the condom-thin sheath, almost put them flesh to flesh. Almost.

Then there was Shaft.

The bump on his rump, the lump to be pumped, awaiting her command as well to enter.

A few comments, but she wanted silence. Her black stilletto, conveniently in her reach, filled the opening, treading weightlessly on his tongue. He longed for the heel.

"Ready?"

Strawberry jam it was not; clear and squishy, she slathered him, in a new twist on sandwich-making - butter the meat inside- then Press to seal.

The 'thowck" sound initiated a series of groans. Penetration by our black spelunker.
Black on black on white. Diversity at its erotic best.

"You intoxicate me"

His perfect ass did. Clean as an operating room table, round and firm like nipple-less silicones(silly cones, they are!), she floated on him, a wave of pleasure, she the renegade cowboy, steering her steed below.

at last count..4 O, more to go...

Advertising Actual Venus!

Amazing Aphrodite:

To the world "deity,"
to herself "moeity."

In her words - brevity,
in her thoughts - depravity.

for herself, simplicity,
for her world, felicity.

Of her flesh: agility
Of her head: ability!

Flexibility,
Eccentricity
Hex affinity
Sex divinity
metal trinity
porcupinity

As she lives, as she loves, as she breathes...

Infinity

A quieter Paddles-but still amazing!

More intimate conversation due to a smaller crowd-my usual friends, Tom, Phil, Jim, and faces whose name I didn't know-we kept the place going with a low vibrational hum, as opposed to the frenetic zippy pace.

I wonder about New Year's Eve-will I be able to reckon my Zen needs with the bristling entity that will amass from the piled patrons at Paddles?

to be determined...

Black among Blondes

She dances, as caught in a closet-size cage / A manifestation of feminine rage / Until her free will breaks illusory walls / propriety faster than lower jaw falls / Ripping the air with her spiky black hair / she novocaines legs by her black eyelined stare. / Over-exposure by underachieving, / a swish of her bottom leaves cash machines heaving, / for breath, for a glimpse of the magical lair. / A visual Xanadu sought by a stare. / Will Madame Mystique swirl her musk around me? / A ten dollar bill guarantees it will be!

Two delightful daggers, dancing in parallel,
mark of a Jezebel, Staunch and unyielding, flanking my spine

The back piercings are in!

Thanksgiving -ah, the time time for socially acceptable gluttony and excesses of otherwise unusual scope. I do hope everyone had a lovely holiday, but I don't particularly like turkey, and it would not befit my antithetical nature if I didn't fi nd an unusual way to divert from the normal activities.

It was a cleansing day, a stripping away of the last few months of work related worry and general toxicity life smudges on you as one might put out a cigarette(If you are Ursula, you put it out on your Pet's ass!) . I gathered my special blend of herbs(nothing too exotic-some things from Chinatown and the traditional astringent purgatives, like juniper and ginger) and drank tea, waiting for my liver to flush. In visiting my friends/family, I simply took a "low" version of me. I shifted right back into 5th gear Friday, though.

In retrospect, I was a bit disappointed at the lack of unusual and hard to reach sensations sometimes caused during a cleanse.
When I did my first Candida treatment, I though a sickle to the temple might be a nice alternative to the movement in my entrails, as though a small child with a large knife was told that there are Christmas Presents in my torso, and the only way to get them is.... rip rip rip!
But after that metamorphosis(It probably feels like giving birth for 2 days), I chose not to do that again, and my Celiac diet has been untainted by gluten in years. Nor sugars, whenever I can avoid them. Perhaps because I regularly toast with a chilly cup of swarming microbes periodically, my internal flora have maintained themselves with the tenacity of a groom late for his wedding.

And then there was the Fat Flush....

another time, gentle readers...

More Diabolique!

check out the erosartist site, under Diabolique 2006:
pic # 111806 7705

It's toward to bottom of the pics-several minutes to download, but quite worth the time!

Diabolique - quite unique!!

I had an amazing time there, and thanks to all who served me in any way!!

Check out the jerseydevil site for photos of me in virgin white!!

MIXED METAPHORS

I wish I could be nose to nose as I coax the shy question to your brain, poke it inside, until out again it comes, wrapped in responsive words. It rattled and spun like Kansas wind, lifting pups and pine alike. Until...the spiral consumed itself in its rage, and the words whispered out from your dentrifice cage: occassionally. An echo of mine like cathedral chants, hallowed is thy word. A morsel drenched in drama dew, a pentasyllabic peek-a-boo, oops! here's my soul! Don't let it roll away, stay, and if you dare-play!
Indeed, I lead you, trap engaged, into a vulnerable position, vexing verbal Inquisition.
But in your silence, lure unbitten, I kill the pause, and thrash your rump into the steely jaws. Never an escape clause, I tease through heavy metal, until you strangely settle to your fate. My bestial mate! We pretend vanilla blends with bitter chocolate, when we know the dark cacao is the flavor that we savor. Black. Strong. I think we knew this all along, and we dance to our song...occassionally...

I must share-as of late, a deluge of subs entertaining the notion of servitude.

Yes, you are fine people, I am sure.

Yes, you have much to offer. Your obedience, your humility, your brawn, your sensuality, your long term commitment.

BUT!

When you write to me asking me to take possession, have you read the journal?

Do your homework!

You would more often than not find that you are simply not what I seek, what I consider thermogenic.

Please-think-and-consider what it means to be one of my boys...I hate to be rude, but...
no answer = no clue!

Go to bed, head!

I'm practicing simplicity-harder than it sounds. I have to put my head to sleep sometimes and It's as insomniac as you can be! I don't drink or puff the peace pipe, and Yoga has not the same dramatic calming effect as previous, so I seek ways to tuck the cranium into somber stillness.
Why?.................because it impedes my Flow, and I honestly think that my path is clearly laid if I can avoid the distractions off the stony steps. Time vexes me; miserable and negative people drain me. These are universal imbalances that I cannot avoid;however, I can keep focus by not succumbing to the shiny things in the distance, but to stay on the things I know, which are ME, which are going, in time, with Kairos, to bring me a deluge of ecstasy as all the things I am working to create will coalesce into a beautiful holistic piece of living art.......
If my head will just stop asking questions!!

My Melodramatic Fish

My impetuous pet,
the closer you get to the top of the pool, the more I consider the option to fool you, gesturing fingers, no food within! Though graceful you dart, your slippery skin would impede my tail grip. A slime-coated slip! And sideways you zip, bubbling fish words, pursed lips, in pesci profanity: "What human insanity! Thinking a mammal could wrestle me! Such vanity!"

Full Moon obscured last night-so I obscured myself in Starbuck's pitch at Barnes and Noble, reading about Chakras and Mandalas(They are NOT Indian deserts, classical instruments or disco divas)

bravado and memories.

It seems like so long ago I took the risk-web exposure-putting my photo up on a bdsm related site. I remember how difficult the decision to press enter was. I even stopped and erased before breathing and depressing the oblong key. I think about that today, and all those who are newly exposed - bravo!

As I promised, belatedly, though quality cannot be rushed, I have a tale.

and a tail

Lilith descending....
A true fire woman: Red hair, red lips, Red Sea, all tainted by blood and the glorious if brief, blush that the coarsing crimson delivers.
She IS a demon seductress. She is NOT a missionary mistress, and thus, her bitter banishing. Her specialty- vanishing, vanquishing breath! Blood! Semen! Life-bearing Libations-through her luscious lips!
And the perverse pyramid she creates, legs astride, arms pinning arms, over the foundation of the Infinite Pet, the divine spine peaking upward, then thrusting downward, sheath swallowing sword.

Into her, life poured...

I'm curious as to the translation of the symbols above the numbers when releasing expletives. Is it alphabetical? Is "!" equivalent to "a..hole"? or is there some other cryptic code?

The reason I query is that I want to use several of them as the weather in NEPA(about 40 degrees at noon) objects to my Cemetary Ceremony. I had grandiose intentions for tomorrow's Succubian Seduction. The Infinite Pet was supposed to be whisked under the velvet cape of Pyxa, strapped to a flat top tombstone, and "drained."

BUT

frostbite on my favorite oblong statue is unforgiveable! So indoors tothe Theatre...

I shall narrate, Poe-esque, to be sure, as tomorrow's cacaphanous climax mellows to a delightful descent to terra.

Where is the relief to my head throbbing self-injurious question:
"Does anyone peek outside the confines of their own head?"

Let me explain.

We surround ourselves with "Me" things. Comforts or habits, synonms for the same thing-a well-grooved path of sameness. This is acceptable, as we need routine for stability, but sometimes we get SO settled in our rut, that it becomes a ditch, and we can't see above the ridge. We are content to lie in our ditch, waiting for the swirling debris to cover us into eternity.

Amen.

Morose, perhaps, but true.

I try, however, to keep my crevice shallow, and seek to create alternative, yet parallel paths. If you live without awareness of others( and I won't even assume acceptance is necessary), you live in a fantasy, un-realityville!

How does that relate to subs? This treatise relates to Everything-but in the world of sub males, it limits their cognitions, so that I get the script of (Yawn!) "I will be waiting on my knees" or the highly presumptuous "I will serve you in all ways, but I'm especially good at oral"

[side note here: I am always tempted to ask: 1. if they are dentists, or 2. if they could perform oral service on my shoe and boot heels so I may gauge their skill first-all 200 of them should provide quite the afternoon of labor, no?]

Please also tell me that "I know we would be perfect for each other" and you shall be an official contestant in the "180 Degrees from Reality Game" for which the grand prize is an all-expense paid, first class vacation to Delete Island! Yes, this one way trip seems to be our most popular destination, and frankly, no one seems to ever leave!

Sorry-had a sarcastic spell-I'm OK now.

Zara's Beret

It seems as though the French Resistance is easily fooled. A trail of bleu cheese might distract, or a crispy baguette to the side of the head to stun them-they are weak and pitiful, irritating like a gnat, and numerous like the rice grain offspring of the housefly.

Today, she wore her black velvet beret. An easy disguise-set at a jaunty angle on her forehead, capturing a wisp of hair and restraining it to her brow. Ridiculous! you say!
But no one trailed her as she zipped on the highway to the one stop coffee shop double drop spot. Gas, coffee: hot fuel for both engines, though her heart was running more rapidly than the engine currently drinking its octane pablum. She strolled in, through an open door graciously pulled by a non-French business type with thinning hair, but enough left that, were she not 6' in her heels, would not have been noticed. Too much! Coffee that is! The Island of coffee and coffee additions. No, It should be the Island of drinkables!( don't forget the tic-tac-toe display of teas!)

Focus! Her word games temporarily obscured her true purpose- the drop off. Her partner, also an anti-French agent, as well as her luscious Pet, was picking up at 7:45 and she had to be a distant cash register receipt.
Hmm...large coffee, free donut...boston creme, please.

Back in the car, she unwraps her vessel-a slick sticky plasti-pudding surrounded by a yeasty bun and slathered with a coco-mud stripe. Doesn't matter-it's only for transport.
In goes the vial! Back in the car, hot brew for Zara today, and she's off! Pastry carrying cases make for innocuous litter. She flips the donut out the passenger window, with marksman precision, so it lands right below the large metal Truck Stop" sign. Should I have taken a bite to make it look authentic? No...too late now anyway...zip zip zip!

Driving away, she looks at the clock. 7:42.
Ring!!
"Hello?"
"Hello agent"
"Early today!"
"Yes, I have a donut. I thought you were going to leave a coffee for me."
"Changed my mind, dear, and the donut was free!"
"Well, I don't blame you."
"Did you take a peek yet?"
"Very sticky."
"I thought it would be the best choice, as jelly might stain."
"Oh you are so thoughtful!"
"Always thoughts of you, My Pet"
" I can barely contain myself until our next meeting at the Theatre."
"I reciprocate-squared!"
"The silhouette, your scent...our scent...looming over me"
"The scent?"
"You, levitating, descending over me until your breath is mine..."
"Stop! You torment me!"
"I worship you."
"You should."

Cross your fingers, make a wish, whatever it takes-I may have a laundry boy!

Do NOT, I repeat, DO NOT croon "Muskrat Love" to me! Ever!

Nonetheless, I have fallen in love, mammal to shorter mammal. I wanted to alert all my fashion-conscious friends to my new sensual steal-a muskrat coat! An innocent trip to ebay...for eelskin boots, quite the necessity...and a 19 inch view to a furrier in Canada...fox? no, already have....rabbit, ditto...alpaca shawl? too willowy and expensive!...muskrat!...jacket? ewww!crocheted sleeves- how gauche!(like a librarian-worthy safety chain aroung the eyeglasses) Ahh, a classic-knee length muskrat, royal blue satin lining. Ever see "A Touch of Mink" with Doris Day(If I was older I might have a crush on her!)? similar to the one she chose.

And the best part-besides the obvious inconceivable price of 5, yes, F-i-v-e U-S D-o-l-l-a-r-s, is the history it bears. The wear. The use. The taint of others. So much more character than a brand new, never-been-touched-Sandra-Dee-virginal coat. Imagine the mysteries it hides! As a coat in the store of a furrier, it must have had dozens of admirers, pawing at it with human claws, hide-ing in its soft prickles for warmth, but primarily for display. Being FUR, it probably hung in the store for years, and now, with its comfortable den going out of business, it seeks a new home. I will adpot this new animal and add it to the others. As I wear it, naked of course, I shall be beneficiary of the tales within the tail(and everywhere else)!!

If I may be so revealing...

I hear of many discouraged folks who are ready to throw in the towel, or in this case, the leather gag, but Wait!! I have a story of hope.

There really are fantastic people out there. I was so fortunate to meet a galant sub in Lancaster, from where else?? CM.com! After a few initial emails, we spoke, and I could tell from his voice that he was a natural submissive, and an honorable man. He graciously chauferred me in a 4 wheel, V6 steed for my erototorture with the Infinite Pet.(Yes even away from the local eyes, discretion is a must!)

Consequently, I adopted him for Shoe Room duties. He will be required to sit among the leather and footwear, nearly nude, as I will be, lotion in hand. It will be a gratifying afternoon, I'm sure!

thank you v!

The Perils of Aries
*Warning-this exposition may contain sarcasm*

I think my head is sometimes too strong . Like my Ram insignia, I use my head to solve problems , and I often approach things with a sledgehammer. I'm very efficient and effective when I work alone, but...

Today I had an encounter with a "food or fuel" woman. My theory: there are certain people, more than I care to imagine, whose greatest purpose in life is best described as being "food" for something or "fuel" for a fire pit.

I was getting gas. Simple enough. I put the nozzle in, press the glaring START button, and the 87 octane fuel grade. I go in to pay, and she claims it isn't full yet. Tick tock, 4 minutes, 5. I think it's done!
No, she claims, it's not.
Hmm....are little brooms sticks hauling the gas into my car's tank with buckets while Mickey waves his cartoon wand? I could siphon gas out and into the tank with one of those coffee stirrers faster than this fueling.
I go out and "voila!" it's FULL!
It's still fueling says food&fuel Francine.
Back to the pump-I hope I can deduct this walking mileage from 2006 income tax.
I have to tell her empty head what the gas price is, even though this national chain is computerized. Perhaps they are operating with an Apple IIc system.
After I tell her what "the big red gas-making machine says" I pay, returning to visit my vehicle, which seems to have been immobile long enough for a nest of squirrels to hatch on my bike rack. I clear the cobweb from the door handle, entering my placid dunce-free haven, and leave, thinking of the shame it is that such valuable air is stuck in the bones of her skull.
She might be a little tough and chewy...
Perhaps I will toast mashmallows in her bottle blond hair.

I have recently received an influx of messages asking if anything interesting is happening in my life.

Non-sarcastically, I reply: Do I breathe?
Then, Yes, the Ripley's Museum should be here any minute to document the events.----

I DO respond with some basic plot, though the mystique is in the details.

*Enter Sero*
Halloween approaches. It is only fitting, as my love of the archaic, the simple, the antiquated, acts as a perfect backdrop for the Scene on the 'Ween.

A crimson pyre-my cape's hue, my hair,the lips which recite the incantations over the prone body on the slab.
A pale blue-the sky at dusk, his skin on the chilly night, the flame of the blowtorch.
A charcoal smudge-like the leather of his mask, the crow calling near, the flesh charring beneath the Infinitely hot poker.

A new mark-of the beast? No, of the Changeling that is Sero-warrior witch, slithering seductress, stealthy spy, dramatic dancer, macabre maiden.
*Exit Sero in a puff of smoke*

12??? Yes, 12.
in 24?? Yes, 24!

I have returned from the Amish country. Good brothers and daughters of the Church of the Butterchurn united in their devout practices to vanquish the devil from the hallowed haven!!

OK, I Was NOT chased with hex signs and holy water, but I DID cause deviance nonetheless.

More importantly, though, I believe that as intimately linked as the Infinite Pet and I are, a new awareness of our D/s relationship enlightened us both. Awakenings made obvious, as we were enveloped in the Essence of each other-two energies co-mingling and symbiotically strengthening the other.

Did you ever struggle with a conundrum, an issue, a roadblock, only to find the key right in front of you? Something simple, perhaps, and accessible. We had no troubles; but revelations came to us as clouds parting, slow openings into each others vast cerebral domains.

BEAUTIFUL!

Do you hear it?

Synchopated sonorous drama in the background...the theme to "Mission Impossible"
A most outstanding festivity is planned for next week. Can she do it?

Stay tuned, Serophiles....

Out of the Closet

Now that the shoe room is in order, I can finally sleep in peace, for the few hours I do sleep.

"It's not Illegal, It's Just Weird!"

The title of one of my autobiographies. Last night, a chapter complete: The Shoe Room!

I had to find a rack on wheels for my furs and leathers and gowns. I had a rack-no wheels! "Come on, head, get to work." So I found a set of wheels at work, but as I tried to attach them to a platform on which to place the rack, the screws kept splitting the wood. "ARGH!" she replied in her best Charlie Brown. I cannot rest until I have halted the creeping entropy of the Shoe Room. Thoughts come and go. Then......

LIGHTBULB(this one I turned ON)!! In my old house(still not sold-any buyers?) I had 2 racks, one of which was on wheels. Hmm...
But the car is down. Hmmm....But the bike still works! Hmmm....

In my competitive racign days, I would do a 2.5 mile practice run from this old house to the block where my new dwelling exists(coincidence-apparently not so). Of course, I did not know at the time that I would live on this block-it just seemed like a good place to turn around. The loop, therefore involved a 1.25 mile out and the same distance back.

If I can race 1.25 miles, I can certainly Walk that distance. SO off I went-on the bike, up the hill(The Wyo. Ave Thigh Torture Hill). Into the house-roll out the rack-throw the bike on-roll on down! It was a surprise how desperately wretched our streets can be, seeing them at this close proximity. Nonetheless, I managed to push it all the way home, fortunately downhill, without so much as an askew glance from our little Suburbia.

I'm so pleased-The Shoe Room is a Reality!!

Fortuitous and Generous: the Universe to me and my potential energy. I was not working yesterday due to a power outage. Again, I refer to the lightbulb phenomenon-turning on, but mostly turning off. Apparently, in a bawdy display of overwhelming bravado, and sheer testosterone-induced grandeur(remember it Was the Full Moon last night!), I unleashed my light sucking power(Does thast make me a Superhero? Could it be a black hole disguise?What would That costume look like? nothing I suppose. But I would know it's there because of that harsh plastic smell from the face mask that suffocates except for the tiny hole in the mouth.)
I digress...

So in this most obtrusive and obstinate act, I took out the power, and ALL the lightbulbs in 14 buildings!
I was Very productive at home, though. I took my bike ride to go shopping(always donning the hunter orange backpack I was awarded by winning the Anthracite 5 miler in my age group-pat pat pat thoracic 1-12). Home, then off to work, some in the shoe room, some in the Theatre.
I chose to organizethe Medical cabinet-what fun rediscovering all the procedures I am capable of performing!

Next time I need a day off, maybe I'll just take out MY building.

AHA..from the archives!

Issues
4/10/06

I know I have issues;
we all do,
Brimming like pockets of Schindler's List tissues

Drenched with the "what ifs?"
Soaked with the "oh nos!"

In skin, but much deeper,
It makes our backs stiff .

Insidious gardener plants suicide seed.
Beyond the gross structure and macrobiology,
a timerless microbomb
Grows like a weed,
and, inside, explodes.
Not a Rose from a bud,
Or a tree from the soil-

A pop!
Like Cheng and Eng charged poles erode !

If a hollow man brags
"I am freed from my toil
Of ivy-wrapped riddles!"
Check his toe for a tag.

She wriggled in leather straps, but not too much. My touch exceeded her unruly will. I glance to the man below me, above her, and stick to him like cactus quills, his thrust to me gives her soft chills. Her breath becomes more resonant...
tbc

Fall

School has begun.

The slightest sway in the atmosphere, from non-chalant summer to pre-hibernative autumn. We can feel the shift, from body to head, from motion to sombre stillness, from thermal glare into dim.
I snap to attention as the chalk hits my hand, new asphyxiation games, high on dust and permanent marker stench.

They look at me, to me, for me as pillar, as mountain, as treasure chest opened, spewing answers and answering prayers. I know so little of all there is! But a galaxy more than they do!
Still, the facade draws them near, and peaked ears turn for their destiny, written in formulas, numbers and greek symbols scattered on hard black-backed slate stage.

The details, in stale pages, made tolerable by droll bookworm sages makes heads even larger than egos would fill. And so, in the seats, like calves suckling teats, they drink in the knowledge that flows from my tongue, from my head, from my heart.

I hope at the end, of the day, of the book, they have felt our time was worth every demand - and the wealth in their heads a fortuitous brand.

The TNT chair is now ready for its first performance in "The Interrogation."

That would be "Torture and Torment" -thanks in part to an article meant to scare the readers into action to support Amnesty International or some such humanitarian cause. It described in beautiful morose detail the atmosphere of a confinement cell, the apparati included, in every minute angle, I might add, and of course, the malevolent forces that operate within, causing perilous screams and suicidal dreams for the detained.

a primer...

so the chair described in previous propaganda was too tempting to pass up and improve upon!

The only part of it which won't invoke Inquisitory images is the leather seat, and quite well padded, in fact. The rest....?
Don't ask.

Pleasure your way to Fitness!

Introducing the new "Tug and Plug"

Operates like a rowing machine, but in addition to adjusting the tension for a harder workout, you can adjust dildos at the base. No tools required!

Justice

not always pleasant, but always FAIR.

so...when the old IMan relearns how to use the phone and computer after a long head trauma rehabilitation(the only reason I assume he could be absent for 4 months), I let him begin at the beginning.

Hello. My name is Sero. what's yours?

Please, please, PLEASE!

It's 3 syllables: Pi - a - nist !!!

Things that make the downside go up

A beautiful parting wish from a distant friend:

"You make me happy to be who i am"

Ever read "Pet Sematary" by Stephen King?
My SK days are a distant but poignant memory, and the line "They always come back"
is universally applicable.
Dead cats, lost subs, and gel pens...."They always come back!"

Clouds
Deviance for no apparent reason. The clouds stealthily skulk across the sky. They intersperse and intercourse above, below and through each other's space so that they may float incognito in the blue sea. Cotton trails leave no trace of puffy tails as the closing of the eye to slumber to pause to blink allows them to escape to mutate. And all the while, the weightless pile from miles up makes random dances meaningful to those who choose to skry skyward.

Recon in WB...
(The story of a double drop)

Zarephath is her name. Her Identity is a mystery. white. metal. Even with these clarifying clues, she blends like a tear in the ocean.
Intrigue. Deception. Exchange. The vocabulary of a spy. A woman carrying the tools of the trade - her superlative perception and awareness. And she was ready!

A designated bench. Her stealthy gait did not betray the natural flourish with which she moves, gliding over sidewalk, over crosswalk, to approach the wooden slats which would cradle her white-laced posterior. She dropped her Cat sunglasses to the edge of her nose. She watched. She waited. She crossed her legs, lifting the metal banded sandals to a loftier position for viewing. Feigned journal games. Her intent was not the scribbles on the page, but on the connection with her vessel. She freed her white silk scarf in anticipation of a posh gentleman...

Like a fire alarm, she was jolted by the words, "Is there music today? I was hoping they would have entertainment." Z looked over to the right to see a tiny old woman, wrinkled lips mouthing the questions to which she had no answer. Temporarily stunned, she composed herself, and answered, "No, I don't know-I just arrived" Snapped out with the precision of a steel trap, she applied her "out of order" stare and dropped her head to continue the facade of writing.

"Where is he?" she asked herself. It was like a buoy bob: the look up and the glance down to the leather bound tome. UP. Down. Up. Down. Her breath impatiently huffed with enough force to turn the page of her book. Too close - the old woman-and now-he's late!
The French must certainly know! Her mind raced, her hands shook, and her blood percolated. Until....

"Excuse me, Ma'am. I believe you dropped a scarf. Oh, let me get that for you."
Scarf goes up, head goes down, entranced by the shoes, and the long legs attached. "Thank you, sir! Your mother trained you to be chivalrous!" As he handed her the scarf, he slid a plastic bag wrapped envelope into her fur handbag like...(avoiding the obvious reference)...her legs glide into the Cuban-heeled thigh high stockings. It was so light that it started to blow in the wind. She immediately stifled its venture and shuffled it into her open bag.

A circuitous route: around the open market, a bazaar most bizarre. Darjeeling tea, golden and steamy was her first legitimate pick-up. Zara was so anxious to peer into the envelope that she could barely keep her wits. Tea sloshed, but she held it out from her body so not to scald herself or stain the pristine, virginal white lace dress, which itself mocked her very essence. She continued around, choosing a ripe tomato, a bunch of onions, and then -OFF! to the sanctity of the vehicle.

*Ring!*
"Hello?"
*"I could not help notice the curve as you retreated from the market. I was mesmerized. almost lost self- control."*
"It's good you refrained! French eyes abound!"
*"What undergarments were you wearing?"*
(sniffs a laugh)"He asks what undergarments i wear! The dress did not show the Absence of such?"
*"Of course, I knew that. I crave you. I wish I could be there right now, attending to your legs, upward to..."*
"...and I too wish for your tonguing touch, but- Kairos!
Timing! When it is safe...when it is discreet...when it is unsuspected."
*"Sunday?"*
"I shall be waiting."
*"Did you drink the vial?"*
"Just before our tryst, it will be imbibed."
*"But you know what that does to you!"*
"Ah, but what the liquid makes me do will be taken out on YOU, Pet!"
*"Mercy!"*
"No, no mercy!"

Did you ever have one of those times when your life felt constipated?
It is time for a " life enema"
Lots to clear out...

I Have a Dream
... a dream that, one day, all shoes will live in peace and harmony. A dream that the combat boots will walk proudly alongside the Mary Janes,,, united in pairs. I have a dream that there will one day be a room... in this world for all shoes ...to gather,,, free from prejudice and intolerance based on superficial, artifical characteristics, and instead be judged...on the merit...of their sole. I have a dream that the blacks and the whites, the golds and the denim, the old and the new, the high and the low, will together adorn this great Shoe Room...and brings comfort and happiness to all who enter. Let the stilettos, the sneakers, and the sandals rejoice...ignorant of predjudice...a union...of footwear...Amen!

------------------------------------------
*I was going to make an extremely obscure reference to "free of the last, free of the last..." I thought it might Just push the limits of good taste*

Caravan to Paddles this Saturday.? If you are going too, let me know!

In progress

I look ahead/
what do I see?/
a golden opportunity/
my chastity in jeopardy!

Intensity, Part II

You can tell, in the escalating timbre of the voice, or perhaps it is the descent of the resonant words. It is the inflection, the whisper, the accent, but never above a conversation. It is the diction, the word massaging, the clarity, the pro-nun-ci-a-tion: ending "asphyxiate" with a pungent "T"!

I have participated in drama and music all my life. Plays, musicals, music performance, from baroque chamber chior to thrash metal bassist in Weirdo Magnet. I know the performer/audience dynamic needs a fragile and finicky finesse to give both the ultimate experience. I know the energy, pre-show tension as tangible as ropes and chains. I want that. I need that. It is what i DO.

Imagine, fellow scene-sters, what the energy of a performance would be like, whether it's the philharmonic concert or Lollapalooza - just gather all that energy, that loud raucous, and seething, or quiet, crescendo-ing chills manifesting as bumps on the skin - put all the energy of hundreds of observers and many performers...into a tiny phone.

While I was initially disappointed that the Infinite Pet had to be home (Maytag incarceration!) all day, we did have several hours of conversation leading up to a Grande Scheme Erotique! As we spoke, and the physical contact was apparently becoming a non-viable option, our voices changed, as our lifeline, our sole connection, though one with robust vivacity!

No sight.*

No smell.*

No (sigh!) touch.*

No taste.*

But...the voice.*

In an "Ode to the Pet" called "What Lies Between", I refer to his velvet voice, rubbing me so tenderly, his ruby lips framing Perfect phrases. And this day, such a focus I had! I almost Felt his breath cool my blossoming perspiration. The swoop down and up, roller coaster smooth and thrilling, as the words "Hello Uber Frau ." dripped through the phone. I returned the dripping.

I lay on my hardwood floors, on a pillow, ceiling fan the only hum save my audible breath. As we spoke, about the true nature, the Purest Essence of Dominance and Submission, the words threw themselves from our licentious lips, a passion rivalling that of a mother throwing herself in front of her child, toward whom a bullet is designed. Repetition, mantra-like of our pledges:. He: "I worship you. My thoughts are of you every day. I can't do a thing anymore without thinking of you. You have entwined your thoughts like roots around my brain and you grow within me".......
and I: "Only you have the Strength, the Energy, the Passion I seek. You give me all that you have, your life force, and I use it, cycle it through me and return it to you, in our infinite, intimate exchanges. You are the only one who can withstand our machinations!"

...and on it went. The games we played, building the dialogue and the handset to a red hot, barely speakable fever. Sometimes panted, sometimes grunted, we were in such esoteric, ecstatic places, together yet distant, and honestly, with no loss of Intensity.

The lack of sight fueled the voice.*
The lack of touch caressed the voice.*
The lack of smell brightened the voice.*
The lack of taste clarified the voice.*

In total immersion to the vibrations of the larynx.*

In total fixation on the content of the audibles.*

No sensory deprivation - rather, Sensory Intensification.

Needless to say, we were taken to the trancified space we both enter when we connect.

Sero takes a deserved nap.

(Curtain closes)

Mission Accomplished

Zarephath, my coy countess of covert operations, sent the Infinite Pet on a mission:
Obtain an amulet from hidden drop-off point for delivery to her at a later date. The delivery part is impending, but the pick-up: SUCCESS! Partially due to my cleverly disguised gift wrap - a "used" condom!
He will assist her espionage encounters against the French. But I must not say more - Parisian ears and cigarettes lurk!

I seem to believe, more and more each day, that this world is my playground.

Twilight Zone episode: "Anthony and the Cornfields." Probably not the actual title, but if you've watched the series, you know.
He could wish things into the "cornfield", a lovely metaphor for....hell? wherever they go. I'm sure it's better than living with that scoundrel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
And yet, sometimes I feel like Anthony, with the family around "yes-sing" and dashing like Jeeves on crack. I'm referring to the subs. I can't complain, if they are honestly willing to serve. But the incessant robo-talk "Yes, ma'am, whatever you want, ma'am, whenever you want it, ma'am" is a lot of exhale and no inhale.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To the cornfields with thee!

Politely, Sero drops a lilac painted nail on the corner of her mouth, which acts like a trigger to pop it open and coo gently:
"I don't chat"

"But Ms Sero...why?"

"Well, I can't chat at work. I have to be in various places which are sans monitor, throughout the day. Besides, chats consume my focus, and if I must be focused, I want to wash myself in your vocal drizzles and showers.

"But.."

"Shh....type type type!"

Magic

Look for magic, from the ground.\
It's coins from pockets, pavement bound.\
It's parking spaces just revealed,\
It's third out caught in far left field.\
Maybe it won't pay the rent, \
but always check your dryer vent!\
Luck comes to those who won't relent!\
My pessismistic optimism\
acts like light sent through a prism!

do I have too much time or what?!

Practice makes Perfect,
and I DO like perfection!

so I must hone my abduction skills.
(shakes her head)
"shoulda been CIA..."

...and a sarong-ed Zarephath enters, princess shoes, halter bra, flowing hair...

Her dancing spirit is perfectly captured by her lithe dancing legs, and the flipping of her fire locks resembles the Medusoid visage of fetal serpents aflame.

I SO look forward to her tales as she reveals herself to me!

Name that quote:

?My dance is a sacred poem in which each movement is a word and whose every word is underlined by music."

I'll be most astounded if you know...

SEEKING YOGA PARTNER

for erotic contortion, tantrically oriented.

Experience: 2+ years of REGULAR practice
Height 5'9" or above, preferably.
Must be able to support own body weight inverted.

Very serious!!!

The Princess Shoes:
the basic sandal with ankle strap - 4 inch heels - clear lucite. Silver leather upper. Clear lucite foot band, studded with gems. The ankle strap is a metal bracelet covered with gems. The heel zips up the back. I put them on and, much like the sensation of alcohol down the throat, a warm, buzz instantly overwhelmed me. I rushed to the foot mirror to seee from all angles. Perfection!!

Remember the old adage "If you can't say anything nice..."? Please understand that I hate to criticize, categorize, or otherwise correct. I just know what Fits, and what doesn't.

So many shoes, but only a few are selected for display in the Shoe Room.

Like subs in the Sub basement.

Above

I gave myself to the universe many years ago. Arranged so strangely, this marriage makes rings obsolete, though I wear one discreetly on my finger - sewn in ink, green banded left handed infinity.~~~Me and the I, InfinIte, unite, and in the fury of the night, I'm reminded of why: the awesome power, the light spears fly!

Playing on Saturday - such fun!
I normally play one-on-one. In fact my motto is "I work alone" though I have to breakk out of that mode occassionally.
Such was Saturday's whack-fest.
Another Ms. and I were pummleing a friend, to his, as well as our amusement. He builds his equipment, so he has much to be strapped to/on/over/around. I took the crop to his ass, while she CBT'd his clean shaven(thank you!) shaft.
A sadistic sandwich with masochistic meat!

ESP-
Extra Shower Perception-

Liquid telepathy?
The Infininte Pet always knows when I am in the shower. He would call purposely when I was in the shower, perhaps just to hear the response "I'm dripping wet."

But then he began calling a few minutes after my cleansing ritual, reputedly so that I do not have to replace a water-logged cell phone every month.

I dont take a shower the same time every day, and sometimes I take more than one, and yet he knows! Intimate connection ? Absolutely!

I asked him how he knows. He replies that he asks himself "Is it time?" and he hears a "Yes" (not audibly - that would require medication). So this morning when he called, I driving speedily to work, he said that he knew I was not in the shower, though he called 10 minutes early. Strange indeed!

Illustration of the power of the cerebral connection, his committment to me, as I shall assume, over time, too regular to be labelled "coincidence."

tryst

a twist of fate``
we deviate``
you demonstrate``
your? desire``
entertain``
my throbbing brain``
with your refrain``
of vocal fire``
`````````
quicksilver? insanity``
a prelude to profanity``
A dance of silk and leather sheath``
performed for crowd-of-one beneath``
breath for breath and? stare to? stare``
like mongoose in the cobra's lair``
we turn each other inside out``
and snicker, as there is? no doubt:``

our heat - real``
our hold - steel``
our kiss -? burned``
our? sweat - earned

Zarephath is my newest woman. I am waiting for her to reveal herself, which I'm sure will be prompt, given I can take some quality moments of meditation(not medication!)

Hebrew for "metal forging"
(Appropriate for her job as captor!)

Symbolized by the "Pillar of Fire"
(warms my heart thinking about it!)

She has Intentions.
Which means I have work to do!

Interrogatrix to be!

so much.

that's how I describe the TES fest - SO MUCH!

It was overwhelming, in a wonderful way.

I'm processing it all, allowing the head to seek the ONE thing that I shall focus on. My mind craves the simplicity of ONE, so we(all my women!) are currently at work filtering...

One thing I can concretely mention is that acceptance was an obvious theme, especially in this cookie cutter society.

You couldn't stand out if you Tried!

But that is the beauty of expression to those with open minds - you are what you are - so be it!

Always check the photos for update!

I know we live in a visual world, which is why my leather blindfolds are wearing at the seams, since we need That type of sensory deprivation most often!

But I did receive a humble request for a face shot.

Ta-da!

(and I DO have tendons, they're just open to suggestion)

Last night, The Infinite Pet and I were together(all night, and now I'm a bit tired!)
He came back from the family vacation one day early, so he had the house to himself. He picked me up and took me back to his abode in the woods, under the stealthy hood of night. It was SO intense, SO passionate, SO "the world could crumble, blow up, incinerate around me and I don't care" focused. We discussed future events with the adrenaline-pumped fury of a Nazi Rally featuring Adolf himself speaking to the masses.
And our thoughts were as united, as extreme, and uninhibited as those voices praising in unison "Heil Hitler"
We were one, but equally important - Myself as the dominant conductor, and The Infinite Pet as the Submissive assistant in his own decadence.
I won't share the graphic and taboo nature of the ensuing activities, so as not to frighten you, Gentle Readers, but I offer to you poetry:

Black Rain
6/27/06

Together:
Infinity and I

Dream shifts to reality gear.
Voices lure the parted lips,
like sea spawn to the baited hook.

Water pulsing, pelting me

Relentlessly,

I barely see

The road ahead.

I Proceed,

My fuel the impervious flame.
Faster, moving faster, driving faster, thinking faster

Than the speed of passion.
Kinetic Unity

awaits.

Hands clutch,

A voracious touch,

Eyes alive!

Dive To each other?s pools

And swim in the wetness within.

Electrocution dangerous:

The energy sparks like

Wicked whipping willful wire

On cascading waterway.

Telepathy-

Our remedy

For obsessive locking lips.

Together we ride,

Immersified

In the unified notion

Total devotion.

Intimate communications

Through

Concurrent Libations -

The purest wine,

Iron-ic mine,

Drunk from a dripping mouth.

Hopeless drenching ?

let us drown!

A liquid blanket surrounds

and we begin

our favorite sin.

I saturate

with my breath.

Asphyxiate

(evade Hot Death)

and take you to the precipice.

Do you fear?

In this Black Rain,

Water streaming from above

Water steaming on our skin

Our molten, fluid flesh in fusion

face to face

Blood to blood

Soul to Soul

The ultimate transfusion!

To be cleansed of the world,

Clinging like a spongy leech.

Beseech the heavens to make this

Black Rain never end

So we may have eternity to purge-

To submerge-

From the scourge

Of prosaic propriety.

Like an Arrow, I move Forward. My path is clear. I know what I want, and I seek it.

The source of Misery in many people's lives, I surmise, is not a bad mood, an unfortunate situation, but a lack of direction. I mean a Life Path. No, not some new age-y, post lysergic, hemp-wearing heresy, but a goal or goals to which the achievement is the ultimate purpose. Even if your goal is never reached, it is the path that aligns and livens you.

Example? OK. My path is Yoga, the union of the Mind, Body, Spirit. It is like a cosmic braid, which incorporates many activities, including my BDSM proclivities, thoughts, and emotions. But to manage the plaiting of the personality, it is necessary to only take the strands needed. Thus, I have to consistently choose "Me" and "Not Me" things.
Green is Me. Pink is Not Me.
Motherhood is Really Not Me.
Nudity is Me.
Music is Me.
Perfection is what I try to make "Me," though I often fail.
Repetition is Me.
Cats are Not Me.
Purring is Me!
Coffee is Me.
Tea is Me.
Thus, Rembrandt bleaching strips are necessarily Me.
...and the list goes on to infinity.

Infinity is the ultimate goal for Me. Once I intertwine all the "Me" stuff, I hope to become infinite and eternal. What will that be like? I don't know. But it's my ethereal pursuit, somewhat loftier(and a little crazier) than the house and Volvo and Vacation in Aruba, but it's my path.

BDSM Philosophy(or, Thoughts found at the Bottom of a Pot of Coffee)

It's a difficult dynamic to foster: a thinking , active sub who relinquishes power. With the Infinite Pet, we communicate frequently and plan our sessions, share fantasies and see which ones are most ready to become reality. I'm not like a movie director with a script and a zombified actor whose lines are "Yes ma'am" But if you are around the scene long enough, if you are into the lifestyle, it will become obvious that there are "head people" and "body people" (My terms)
Heads are into the cerebral scenarios and the depth to which one can go, personally, somatically, spiritually.
Bodies are like addicts who need a fix. Certainly, thoughts go into the scene, but the effect is mainly to be found in the physical realm.

Which is better - insignificant question!
You are either, you prefer one or the other. It is about finding HOW you respond and working in those venues.

I'm a HEAD. So obviously, I need a HEAD sub.
You may be titillated by the connotations of my diction.

If you see a car with a leg out the driver's side window.....me!

I'm? in a "brewing"? mode - so many thoughts bubbling up like a rolling? boil in a pasta pot,? but? none escaping to steam? yet.? I can't? wait, though.? The thoughts have been? deliciously dreadful!

A survey - for those with the gift of the quill:

any abduction fantasies?

SO,

if your response is "Yeah it would be cool to be blindfolded and kidnapped"

write no further - you see I have it above already!

I have been away for a few days. It seems like ages. The words have not left, but I think I frightened them. We are coming to a lovely communion, where they will whisper in my ear if I only sit and listen. With the recent events, it has been taxing to hear, as the din of bdsm overtures looms and approaches.

Pratyhara, or sense deprivation, is a Yogic technique for Enlightenment. While it Can involve leather blindfolds, it usually involves breath focus and slow retraction into the conscicous mind.

more later...

Do the days get better still?
I had a glorious weekend.
First, The SUN!~~~
I invited one of my boys(met right here on CM) to visit, and we had a fabulous time.~~~
Bondage BBQ - very cool event!~~~
We took photos in the Cemetary~~~
Memorial day cookout - besides slicing and charring flesh(Ursula so loves that!)-the Marble Goddess of PA let me pick through her remnants to obtain some wondeful pieces of stone, which I believe should be the way the Shoe Room should be decorated - as all the ancient statues were carved from the precious dense rock.
and now...a Trio!?!

Sero - Warrior Shopper

I almost had a key flogging in Wal-mart. I was on my lunch hour, which meant that walking took on a cardiovascular pace. I had to get a key cut all the way in the back of the store, so I hurried up to the front to leave, when a "Tub-o'-butter" Walmart-Aproned Yenta(smiley face button proudly displayed)steps in my missile path and says "smile!"

I had several options.
1. smile

but realistically:

2. swing the keys like a mace and dent her empty yellow smiley head.
3. hurdle her gracefully.

what Actually happened:
4. "I'm in a hurry!" snarl growl
and she scampered off like a bunny...

to have so little as to worry about the facial expressions of others...

Now,
Affectionately, Erotically, Eternally
known as the "Infinite Pet"!
or "Infinite' " for short

Philosophical question:
can there be a "short Infinity?"
(obvious note-I don't want an answer-quantum physics subscribers: keep your proofs to yourself!)

Today I received another key. This is normally a bad sign. More Responsibility. BUT,,,,,,,This is the key to a wonderful summer!

Today I was informed that I would be managing the Greenhouse at school. While I don't have and work-study slaves(yet), I do have the enviable task of spending the afternoon tending to the seedlings, watering pruning and generally fussing with my partners in photosynthesis. As a heat magnet, the 85 degree temperature is merely a bonus. SO as I commune with nature, I'm sure this verdent landscape with induce a whole new set of meditations. And the garden tools a whole new set of evil toys!

Self-Analytical Sero:
I was spending the most important currency - my minutes - at Barnes and Noble's Free Library. I was lured to a book called "Secret Societies" one of which was a Catholic subset called "Opus Dei" These self-flagellating(no, they aren't pond-dwelling microbes) monks perform a variety of penances to show their devotion to God. One of these is the "Crown of Thorns" worn on various body parts. Another technique is deprivation by sleeping on bare hard wood floors. That caused an upturned eye to pause and reflect. I do that.
But do I do that to show my supplication to the Spy in the Sky? If I drank something now, it surely would be expelled through the nose. No, I do it because 1. I was too tired to go upstairs. 2. I just had the floors refinished and I loved them! But i can understand the need for deprivation to appreciate what you "have" which is a relative term, since everything we have can instantly be taken.
Nonetheless, the book was a catalyst. I thought about what is valuable to me, what I cherish, what I need, and I was struck like a mace in the face with the image of My Infinity. If I do possess anything, it is the beautiful embodiment of my greatest enigma emblazoned on the underside of a most Special Pet. I think he is just as enamoured as I with his new identity. "Sie sind unbegrenzheit, wie ich!"

What can I sayto begin to approximate the monumental ceremony? An enveloping, entrancing emotional, somatic, spiritual adrenaline-fumed fantasy-turned-reality scene so unique that I'm sure no one else in existence bears the same sensual scars?
Let me ponder - please, another day or 2 to process. Still trying to work myself back to the sterile existence...

But...

Those perfect hazel eyes!(almost spots of yellow in the green glow). The strength of the gaze, enough to waft a svengali haze! If they had bullets, my rear would be fishnet hole-y; if they had arrows, my neck would be porcupinous; if they had stones, my face would be blue midnight black; if they had spears, I would be blind.
The rousing tongue! It slithers and slides, spirals itself, a twisted hide with slippery grip and succulent stroke. It teases my lips apart so gently, and with such fervent desire. It even makes Ursula smile! Smirk, I should say - that's asking too much! Drenching her lips with his venomous kiss, she utters her siren song:
"Sie sind Unbegrenzheit"

It began with a trip to Paddles in NYC...

They don't have a 90% heterosexual category!?!

"Why are we here?"

I am on week 2 of Lacuna Coil's newest album, Karmacode. They are an Italian hard rock band with a male and female vocalist. They are similar to Evanescence, but I think they have more technical skill and musicianship. Opinions aside, they are intense and powerful. I find them utterly mesmerizing.
The last song, which I eschewed because it was a cover, was Depeche Mode's "Enjoy the Silence." It grows and infects, and now it is one of my favorite. I was listening today on repeat in the car(the Office!), and planning the impending Ceremony with the Special Pet.
I could feel my eyes well and the heavy sigh from the deepest bowels arise. The song pulled up pathos like a bucket in a well, spilling over in one drenching pour. It leaves you in a stark moment of nothingness; the pause between the breaths, when all you have is the clarity of your thought and the anticipation of an inhale. During this time, it did occur to me how magnificent and cataclysmic the Ceremony will be next week.

When you have these prophetic, universal questions, like "What does it all mean" and get an answer, it makes it all worth it.

Please don't call me "Ma'am"
which is short for "Madame"
which is FRENCH!
and all things French are unacceptable.

Further,

Ma'am sounds like I'm OLD. I'm 35. Not old, not young. In between.
Try MISS or MS. or even Goddess, though I would never elevate myself to that lofty title.
When I'm 80 and wrinkled like a Shar-pei(no, that not a marker!) after a lifetime of tanning beds, or perhaps dried up a raisin that was kept in the loincloth of Joan of Arc, then I'll graciously take the "Ma'am"

Actually, at that point, if I can still type, I'll be glad to hear anything without a hearing aid.

Intensity, not volume is what delivers the message.
Did you ever hear someone speaking, but because they are orating in a quiet voice, you shushed the room to allow the speaker to be audible?
INTENSITY.
I can whisper a threat.

I still hear the echo of Ursula's words through the velvet voice of the Special Pet:
"Keine Gnade"
(No Mercy)
~She whispers this in his ear.~
Standing behind.~
Over the shoulder.~
Pressed into him, her leather, his flesh kiss.~
He trembles.~
She exudes another command:
"Keine Gnade"~
As her legs straddle his, she feels them shaking his core.~
His superbly sculpted ass extends.~
Hands are clutched in leather cuffs.~
Raking her red devil claws down his chest, across his waist, over the rump.~
"Keine Gnade"~
With a rapid rip, she ravages his ear with her canines~
"Keine Gnade"~
Tasting blood~
"Keine Gnade"~
Watching the drops.~
"Keine Gnade"~
Vibrating with his titillating tremors~
"Keine Gnade"~
Feeling his heat.~
Smelling his sweat.~
Hearing his whispers:
"Please - Keine Gnade"~
Piercing his eyes with hers.~
Constricting him in lascivious limb lock.~
"Keine Gnade"~
She attacks his lips.~
Skin onto skin.~
Blood into spit.~
Breath into breath.~
"Keine Gnade"

From the Estrogen files:

"The Mother Hen Syndrome"
Women seem to be intimidated by me. Perhaps rightly so(Amazon that I am)
An exception to this is little tiny osteoporitic ladies in the grocery store who ask me to reach things for them. But women in their sexual prime SHould seek me, as I am patient and gentle for the right person. In fact one of the responses that I will pre-empt, very common even if you won't admit it, is that I will be looking in your Eyes, to see you response, and not at your Ass. I used to weigh a lot more than I do know, and I felt very disconnected from my body. I was not universally accepted physicallyt, and that threw my ego into a vortex. Fortunately, I came to an almost perfect peace with myself, and now I reside, comfortably in a 165 pound vehicle give or take a few. So weight is not an issue for others with me.
Personality IS!
If you are one blow dart short of a zombie, I have no use for you. If you are disprespectful and unclean, ditto.
But if you are eager, seeking focus, a bit of sadism to balance your maso ways, a sensuality unrivalled, an exotic head trip,
I am your woman.
If you are a dedicated devoted woman, like a mother hen, I will take you under my wing.
Shall we nest?

(expletives)
Day 10 of Chastity.

(expletives)

At least its not day 14. That's what the Special Pet is up to.

(expletives)

My idea, surely, but that doesn't make it easier. It a personal test, a quest for inner strength.

(expletives!!!!)

But

(grits teeth)

I or anyone else haven't played in the playground and I'm feeling the Lava surface onthe volcano!!!

Miracles happen. Sometimes thay are disguised in the form of simple life activities, but don't underestimate the possibilities!

Last night, a group of us CM'ers met for dinner and adult socialization(no play - just a night out). As "vanilla" as the activity was, the conversation ranged from the obvious kink think to more esoteric subjects, as pushing limits, to totally different topics, such as family responsibilities or search and rescue missions. EVeryone was wonderflu, enthusiastic, open - couldn't have directed it better myself!

I think the scary first step, leaving the house, meeting a new face or a new voice and Not judging gets infinitely easier with practice.

Put down that keyboard!! LIVE!!

Red Snow

12/27/05

I come to you, and you come to me.

A chilly morning journeys to meet

the darkness - still the Reigning King.

A familiar sight among the wooded glen-

A black stallion

In blinders of chrome, and you, mounted menacing.

I am lured to your lair, hooded, but eyes wide

Black leather cape for this

Little Red Riding Hood scene,

Totem wolf, show me the way.

Glistening fangs,

BARED.

Likewise, I open my second skin,

first one is pale and chilled by the snow

Until you begin.

Wolf, you?ve shown me your den many times,

But tonight, something so desolate,

so desperate,

so depraved

decorates your whiskers.

a rogue to ravage

A tempest to tame

A fiend to foil

Where Fear should be, my heart pumps

LUST

Your eyes rape me,

Follow and Fondle me,

Your jaws trap me,

Bite and bind me.

No wandering souls to hear my screams

(Be thankful for the little things!)

We desecrate the pristine snow sparsely laid upon the ground,

Jigsaw limbs entangled,

Disrobed and unveiled.

As you weave your tail in and out of my legs

I know I shall be eaten alive!

Vintage scars beneath the stars

Rabid carnivore, you are!

Saliva seeps from chin to chest,

hot as waxing candlestick,

and I,

willing victim, bifurcate

leg from leg

totem from taboo

to escort you to my domain.

And I,

willing prey, undulate

Hip to hip

Beauty to Beast

Pleasure indistinct from pain.

Red Stained Blue veined hands grip and rip-

They pluck the pelt impulsively.

Now who makes the paint that taints amorphous snow ?

Seems the moon, in its plumpest phase

Sends me into a bloodlust daze.

I reach for your face first with my lips.

With my hands, palm to cheek, stroking you, My Pet.

I can?t stop kissing you,

I suckle your face like a bulging teat,

Mauling your face, eye to jaw

Like a rubber band snapping me back, to your chops,

lips bounce and bite.

Rapier tongues slash and strike

First to land the coup de grace?

And who makes the blood that floods the white?

Seems ample Wolf is packed in me!

FULL,

like the moon, of you-

I WANT it.

(You)

I NEED it.

(You)

I LOVE it.

(You)

And I tear

As you tear

And I seize

and you fear

that this black and Red girl

is turning your world.

My beast,

A hiding savage lies

Beneath this black riding cape

Pitiless, she satisfies

as your rag doll limbs drape

on the red snow.

"DJ Sero , what do you play for bdsm background music?"

"Sometimes nothing. But often a little subtle tune to waft in. Recently I had tried Nine Inch Nails, which put a particularly nasty spin on the games. I have used Rammstein, Stone Temple Pilots, Enigma, and 'Justify My Love' on repeat."
"It depends on the mood, the concentration level, the totality of the scene. Just like a play, it has to be appropriate. So turn off the am radio!"

For all potential subs:

I do not CHAT, unless you call my phone.

I do have a special spot for handy people or doctors!

But spots are filling quickly!

Sincere Thank You's Most Definitely NOT Heard at the Oscar's Ceremonies.

A big Thank You to my 2 newest subs for helping make the Cock Stocks the inescapable device that I had dreamed of. I know you have some brush burns and splinters from our adjustments, but it makes the bdsm world a much better place!

I would also like to thank Josef Mengele for inspiring Ursula's poems and of course, the concept of bizarre medical experiments with an erotic flavor.

I would like to thank Bill Clinton for opening my eyes to the variety of options to catch wayward ejaculate.

and of course, God, for watching over us all.

Happy post-Spring reprieve!
Whether or not you subscribe to the bunny lore or not, most people had an opportunity to renew and restock their inventory.

I must admit, though I need shoes like most people need a second appendix, I Did purchase some, and I can't say I regret that at all. Black leather is classic! And I wouldn't have gone into Nine West, except that the store is located right next to Bath and Body works, to which I had a gift card. I honestly can say that a visit to a morgue is preferable to a visit to the mall; coincidentally, the creativity of both mall and morgue patrons is approximately the same. In fact, I would rather douse myself in phenol-formaldehyde mist than that wretched new sewage water that an ex-soap star promotes, and which you must practice guerilla tactics against as you walk through the scents counters.

Fortune Cookie Wisdom

There is someone for everyone. Be patient.
Do not attempt to place your square peg in a round hole, or tempt a viper with the taste of your fingers.
As the keeper of the hive exclaims:
"My vomit, your honey!"

"In the First Ring..."

The Lady and the Beast

Watch the daring darling of the whip train her Very Special Pet, the Erotobeast! Don't worry, Ladies and Gentlemen, even though the wolf-fiend seems to prey upon its owner, it's all part of the "edge of the bleacher seat" drama! Watch as we spotlight our black leather clad woman with steel-heeled boots(currently aimed tightrope-ward) and an ominous leather cap tilted rakishly over one eye. Next to her, her nude erotobot, a wanton wizard of human stitchery, a subcutaneous seducer, quiveringly erect.
Seen for the first time under OUR Bigtop, the beast strikes at our Lady, leaving his stainless steel claw in her lower lip! Good thing he had the deference and equipment to seal the stroke with an obsidian ball! In reciprocation, the Lady, brings her Pet to his knees and slams down the "Cock Stocks" to cage him!
Restrained and roaring, she alerts his
wriggling ass, whip and hands in a furious flourish, until it is red as her throbbing new metal!
Ah, it seems as she has tamed the ferocious feral fiend! Look how she can pet his purring head, as he curls at her feet. He's as calm as a sleeping baby! Oh, now doesn't that touch your heart - the Pet is cleaning his owner with his tongue!

Another night out with the boys, watching the girls.
   I am a money clip, rather my breasts make a fine bank for small bills. I certainly don't mind the sensual seductive ways of the nubile nymphs, though they are SOO young and innocent, cosmically speaking. The more coherent social ones(not requiring several IV doses of intercranial Lidocaine to take the stage) are often quite open and joyous in thier approach to life(, and that is a trait that I share; the joyous part, as well as the "Here I am bald, cocoa buttered and beautiful!" belligerence that you need to be a show girl.
   So we enjoyed. In between the twin brothers, like a vanilla oreo(they have those now, you know!) I enjoyed supplemental admiration from the audience. Neck massages, thigh massages(through the leather pants - I'm classy), even a little public boot worship! Serotonin flushed through me like salmonella though a digestive tract.
It was supposed to be Bondage Night, though it was a "vanilla-ish" show. The girl acting as the Domme had another on a leash, who did a fine display of slithers and slides over the stage, face up face down, ass up ass down, from 0 to 360 degrees. There was a spanking bench, onto which she was cuffed, punctuated by a few muted love taps onthe ass.
A birthday boy(a mere 20!) was pulled up for a few taps as well, and then the two of them got a splash of red wax and a whiff of labial lust.
              THE END.

But for me, the fun begins, as I have to figure out the mechanics and blocking of twins in the Theatre...

Supermodel games:
I had photos yesterday!
I love photos!
I still have to dissect them with my microscope eye and diamond cutter detail, but they are fabulous. Another bdsm enthusiast is the photographer - excellent work!
Perhaps one will go in the profile.

I'm on a habanero hiatus. I had 2 jars of the devil salsa in 2 days. Ouch!..I'm actually quite used to the intense heaat, but I forget that I have a stomach mucosa which occassionally needs to be utilized.

Odd but true: Though the Special Pet won't eat Habanero tabasco, he will accept it liberally as a urethral cleanse. Doors of perception thrown wide open, I wonder what he sees through that little eye....?

Magic is where you slide your hand.

A lovely weekend - in search of the furniture frontier. I am looking at leather couches. If you would like to send me websites with appropriate photos, I would appreciate, though I have a general notion of what I want.

On a sarcastic note: 3 people called this weekend! Long lost sorts who were just "too busy" to talk to me in months....I'm assuming a coma or a prison term, but somehow freed themselves or awoke and managed to relearn the English language so they could call me and see if I had time for them.

Let's play "Sero Says..."

PlasticFaceHost: Contestant #1, what would you guess?
#1: "Um, OK, next Tuesday?"
PFH: Im sorry, you'll have to pay US for that insane answer.
PFH: Contestant #2, what would you guess that "Sero Says..."
#2: "F**k You, Clown!"
PFH: No, we all know Sero doesn't use profanity
PFH: Contestant #3, what is your guess?
#3: "Of course, I have been cryogenically preserved, awaiting your sparkling smile and verdant voice. Please, oh please let me accomodate you, in any way, including bending over backwards, which as you can see is something I can do. I only hope to make you, my sub, happy."

PFH: Yes! We have a winner! #3 you are correct, and I must say verbose! But you've captured the sardonic slaying of the simpleton subs! Johnny, show us what #3 has won...

PFH: ...and join us again when we answer a timely question as:
"SERO SAYS!"

Why are we Here?
(Caution* Not for the light of head or the pre-stimulant perusal)
A timeless question. I don't mean on the planet, though that could very well be wrapped up in a quick journal entry.
No, I mean Here at collarme.
The answer? My attempt:
I believe that we are here because we have reached the pinnacle of standard thought. Bdsm takes us into 1,2,3 standard deviations. For example, as an instructor, we are informed that the best type of questions encompass all of Bloom's taxonomy, but especially critical are the analysis and synthesis queries, which require fundamental thought plus an opinion plus organized logical thought to correctly surmise a hypothesis. Or...to name all of the bones is easy(if you don't mind memorizing 206 Latin words). To show where they are on a skeleton is more challenging, but still doable for the GP. Now, as we are told, to encourage independent thought - write a poem about marrow, draw your interpretation of a skeleton, mediate a debate about the elusive 207th bone....higher thought!
I believe, like the cream in a milk bottle, we(and please understand, not ALL of you are WE) Normally think in the zenith range, even about the "simple" things, like power, fear, sex, trust. The Bdsm lifestyle is like a movie in Dolby stereo, like a dimmer switch turned all the way up. We don't Choose our disposition; it is who we are.
Usually it is the result of lots of education, self-directed to be sure, but an insatiable need to know and then to use that knowledge in the most creative way possible.
Problems?
Sure.
Just because we can perform head manipulations faster than a photon strikes your cornea, it doesn't mean it works in society, or is even welcome.
For example, have you ever been at the checkout line, and upon seeing the bill, know how much change you will get instantly? Only to be stifled by a delta-level cashier who has to check the screen twice and mouth each coin as she gives it to you?
Or worse - the "speed limits" randomly enforced, that make no sense, such as a desolate country road where the only remnant of life are the worm tracks on the shoulder - and the s.l. is 25 mph!
So, you see, gentle readers, Bdsm acts as water to diffuse a substantial wick on a hotly burning candle. At least there is somewhere to quench that fire, people to share the steam, when the head is far beyond inferno.

Thank you...no homework!

Spring cleaning

I have been performing some necessary Winter sloughing, of sheath, of skin, of stuff within.

It has been successful. I will know when I am fully cleaned when my eyes are clear. That is, my sinus cavities are still a bit sluggish. When I can hold my nose and firmly exhale with my eyes open, to produce little streams of air from the lacrimal ducts, then I know the pipes are spotless!

The RIF program.
Remember "Reading is Fundamental" commercials? I know; they disappeared about the same time as "Schoolhouse Rock".
At least people can still remember snippets of the cult classic "I'm Just a Bill" or the infectiously catchy "Conjunction Junction" made supersensorily vivid by the post-hallucinogenic, pre-flashback Beatle-bopping, Warhol-genuflecting flower children of the 1970s. (Did I forget Janis Joplin swooning?)
But,
apparently the reading thing was the Cirque du Soleil of the Cerebral Cortex.
So,
please my insatiable appetite...
and,
(opening your trembling lips, moist with saliva you hope to drizzle on my equally moist environment),
read this journal,

all the way, baby,

that's good!

no virgins!
no IM/chats!

Pervertible Tip #18:
When shopping for items, don't forget to check the culinary aisle!

Corkscrew #3. I had 2 prototypes which are close to the intended design, but this third one will be the charm. What might I be corking or screwing?
I suppose some things are best left to the imagination.

I'm officially 35!
Feels much like 34.
Still feels like 21 sometimes. No, better. I was somatically destitute at 21.

I will make my first official proclamation:
I am currently not seeking new submissives.

I say this knowing that I may retract that statement tomorrow is a supergenius Arnold look-alike appears.
However, I believe that I have SO many wonderful, dedicated subs, that it is important to focus on my games and projects and the roles they play in the creation of such.

Exceptions made for the right women...

The Pendulum

3/25/06

I swing, but I come back to center.//
I knock, but before you respond I enter//
in a sense attack, //
and you're given no slack//
from the red and the black //
leather decoration.//
No standing ovation-//
on your knees.//
No mercy pleas-//
just breathe.

2 more days...In the meantime, a poem! Needs a double read.

GOLD

6/17/05

Smooth coldness.

Among peers, it stands alone,

With obvious and substantial wealth.

Heavy and bright

Intense reflection blinds

Reslient, radiant, resistant

Mold it, maneuver it

But first melt the core

Magical legacy

Bound to infamy

Many have fallen

Before its solar-brightened

Luminosity

Sought with lemming-like fervor,

acquired by few.

I am golden.

I just read the most amusing little sentence found under the cap of one of my bottled beverages.

"Is everyone taking crazy pills?"

Some days you wonder if Drs are giving free samples.

My latest oral fixation

Tongue titillation, glorious glossal gaiety: as I bathe my teeth in the murky substance, and roll the fluid through each crevice, infuriating the lips for passing through so quickly, I am perfumed with the somewhat bitter and pungent aroma of...................
Mate'.
It is a South American leaf, considered a tea, but much earthier and robust. It actually brews a cloudy cup. It's green, smells a bit like sweet tobacco, unless like today's episode, contains an additive, such as ginger(my second favorite spice). I don't sweeten it, but I rarely sweeten things(honey would be acceptable). It has caffeine. whee!! Traditionally it is prepared in a large gourd and passed around the table in S. American gatherings. Communal adrenaline buzz. At least everyone is talking at the same frantic pace.

I like the clean zing it gives. PLEASE, don't take my coffee, or I might slice your fingers from meat to marrow. BUT, I'm doing some Spring cleaning, and a change is required.

Simplicity

Why do I love my work? Not the whip/tie/burn and bruise work; that should be atomic bomb obvious. Rather, the 9-5 stuff.
Today I realized that I have not yet received a "Memo." Simple Joy! I am not a "Memo" girl. I prefer real interpersonal communication, critque or compliment. Imagine that - a world where people speak to each other sandwiched in please and thank you. And where a time clock does not exist, since all the clocks go their own quirky tick-tock. Where it's not "why didn't they make the coffee" but "I get to make it as strong as I like - Chewy!"

If I were a sentimental sort, it would bring a tear to the eye, but today, just flushes the circulatory system.

Money can't buy simple pleasures.

But please don't think I don't appreciate the green too. I need my shoes!

Eavesdropping - part of a conversation, and my Seussian replies

With fire blazing like the sun
your ass will burn when I am done!

and poke and pierce and split the skin
to reveal bloody sinews within.

I didnt say spank, I said burn
Until blisters appear, and then its turn
comes- sandpaper over skin,
to make you bleed your every sin!

I think that should be followed by a "hahahaha"

My Spring is here!
(arriving at 1:26)

I slept with a tiny friend last night.

He's always so comforting, and always available. Speaks when spoken to.
Scooter.

That's his real name. He's about 4-5 inches, but strong as an Mastadon on steroids. Though he's more like a pterodactyl.

He's my little rascal, infinitely bold, a carnivore, just like his Ms.

He's my parrot. Just like me, though different genus/species. He stomps when he's mad, goig so far as to kick food out of his cage, or fling it, if it's in the way. Also a neatness fetish. He's potty trained. "Poop" commands him to extricate from his teeny system over the garbage can or toilet.
He has haute cuisine. His Step-dad T buys prosciutto and sirloin burgers for Scooter and his brother, Julius(identical kids, but Scooter is a large, Julius is a small, and much louder). Today is another "Hamburger Monday," bun included.
Breakfast is quarter-sized pancakes, fruit, or sometimes an omelette-ette. Thanks to Chef T, these birds will probably be able to do the dishes if properly trained. They are certainly strong enough to carry dishes back and forth from cupboard to sink.

He bathes in the shower, but his Step-dad T(my ex-mate) usually performs that duty.

In the car, he loves Ministry, but KMFDM will suffice. Ever see a bird mosh? You just haven't lived until...

He sits on the steering wheel, but mostly hides in my shirt, right over my heart, purring and clicking to me, as though he's a commentator.

He's a novel waiting to happen.

Going through the files.
Just a quickie:

HEAD GAMES

1/18/06

If fire?s fingers tickled me

Till laughter turned a steamy cry

I?d let my body drip downward

Like beeswax onto Waterford

And revel in the blazing heat

That memories will always be.

A flood can wash the world away

Rivers seep in naughty slits

Or batter buildings to the ground

And take me in like grains of sand

Thrown into the desert land

But memories do not decay.

A spray, a stroke, a bed of nails

May alter me in different ways

Healing could take months or days

And I, amused and aching ?til.

Enamoured by the thoughts of you

Waiting. Memory prevails.

Although my favorite color is green and I do have red hair, I am not Irish. German, Russian and Polish. Hence, I relate well to Ursula, my German bitch.

She is a smoker, which is difficult to reckon. I have convinced her to switch to herbal cigarettes, but I still abhor cigarette smoke. Ironically, I love incense, and the smell of the soot rising is an unconscious signal to be devilish! Like the sooty cinders left by brimstone bricks, the pyre power allures, compels, hypnotizes me.
I think tonight it will be jasmine for my "adventures"

Serious Request!

I am looking for hooves. Just the hooves, not the leg. They can be cow, goat, antelope, caribou, anything of the clip clop gait.
I don't care how or where they were obtained.
Please leave a message if you can donate.

Ms. Sero attends the Club, Part II

The sweatiest part of the evening came as another hippy woman(and not in the Peter, Paul, OR Mary physique) offered to give us lap dances."2 for 1 private dance?" OK...
tbc...

Ms. Sero attends the Club

I thought it fortuitous that, on this Thursday, after several days of ho-hum peace and quiet at work and at home, I receive a call from a companion suggesting that we go to "Bondage Night" at the local Gentleman's club. Two major ironies - There were Few gentlemen there, and Bondage?? Where? A PVC halter does not a kinkster make! Nonetheless, we pulled up to the front of the stage, and observed from our orchestral pit. The first debate was whether the first girl dancing was old enough to drive. She moved, zombified, in the regimen of exotic moves designated appropriate by the United Strippers of America(USA). Cute, but empty. A black plastic'ed Barbie doll bitch. The next girl was the most interesting. As she bifurcated herself for our amusement, readily accepting my dollar, I asked if she was shaved, and she gave me a quick peek. Racing Stripe. How many have driven that vehicle? I hate to propagate a stereotype, and she did seem coherent. She came down after her time and gave us each a lap dance.
Her name was Felicia(also the name of a demon goddess - yikes!) and her red hair matched my own. Benefits of being a woman in the boys club - free lap dances(sans tip of course)! As she gyrated over my Leathered legs, we chatted. She noticed the shoe around my neck. "A Special friend" I said. And thus commenced the discussion: shoe fetish->Special Pet->dominant women->working women->adult industry. She askeed if I would like to come back to meet the owner, as a prospective dancer. "No thank you," I replied graciously. Another bonus: groping allowed! Encouraged, even. She was very sensual as she stroked my neck and shoulders, as though she were straigtening the wrinkles from a bed. In a mutual manipulation, she offered her breasts for my inspection. Real. Soft. She apparently is on my lotion program, too. Nuzzle, pat, rub, then on to my friend. She approached hi, backward so that we could continue our conversation. As she wiped her round derriere against his ever growing pride, we noticed the encircling of several distant people who obviously thought our exchange was more erotic than the stage puppet.
Tip, whip and back to the entertainment!
tbc

An addendum to the previous message:

While a LTR is possible with the most luminescent of stars, Pragmatically:

I need my walls painted and my porch refinished.
Herculean servicemen welcome.

If you are applying for maintainance purposes, please DO have a skill and tools.

Thank you,
Theatre management

Great Mysteries of the Universe(continued)
How do I decide who can borrow my attention? Not necessaily a beautiful ass, though every attribute helps. A seemingly disparate group, a motley assortment, a Whitman's Sampler, if you will, describes those whom I have played with. I also mention that I am very sensual/sexual. So how does one compile decades older, bald, overweight, married into a delicious prospect?
A Very Important Point: I own my sexuality. It does not own me, nor does anyone else have the key. Thus, those who have the frontal lobe fortitude, the intercranial endurance, the dedicated devotion to me will experience it in time. The gypsies, magicians and game show host personalities don't make it to the Bonus Round. Oh, there have been substitutions, where the urge exorcised the thoughts of "Puleeeeeze! Scorpio makes better conversation, and he only HUMS!"
But in general those with whom I have maintained a comradeship, a volley of devilry and depravity, a comfortable quid pro quo, eventually ignite those feral flames. Excellence in mind body and spirit, though not what the TV watching world might be Svengali'd into thinking is perfection. Legends welcome, celebrities need not apply.

I sometimes have to crack my own whip on my behind to write...I think I'll go easy - the synthetic hair whip. Coming to terms with Spring means giving myself home projects to busy my hands and self-improvement projects to busy my head. I'm currently working on the writings of the Chinese sages. Tao today. Reckoning the modern ways with the ancient practices. Coming into my warrior mode. Searching for the nebulous spots of spirituality in a superficial world. Then wondering where I will place this globe that's been resting on my shoulders. I attempt and fail but ever buoyant, try to not have a "lilfe and death" approach. I love the adrenaline rush that accompanies such an attitude, but very few things are that serious. Even death has comic relief.(Perhaps the coffin won't close - or worse, springs open during funeral rites!) A day of seeing, feeling, thinking about my balance point, and how far I may meander from such!

Writing writing poetry/prose...I forgot about the journal!
~~~~~~~~~~~~Let's see...a few new meetings, all of which went well(They arrived, and looked just like the photos!) ~~~~~~~New toys : the Special Pet gets a ball gag. No, not a rubber ball - a bag of balls, like a gym teacher would pull out to play basketball. And fun with Play-doh in springtime colors!

My favorite color is green. If it happens to make a stark and appealing contrast with the crimson top, wonderful! But I always loved the calm energy green exudes(obviously this background is meant for that purpose). But I do attach myself to that neon glaring green. A vibrancy, yes, but not hooker-obnoxious like hot pink, nor beat-me-over-the-head awake like safety orange. I know this treatise will close the case on the Enigma that is me.

Scars..........................................................................I have many, but the visible one in the recent photo is from my cholecystectomy(What?) or gall bladder removal. Also, the appendix was taken out, a 2 for 1 sale, I presume. Incidentally, I have no nerve endings in it, so at parties I would stick little syringe needles through it, a ladder of sorts. It might even do a little special FX bleeding, to speed the already heavily intoxicated onlookers to their destiny of vomiting. Ta-Da!

It's the last day of Februaruy - If I was Christian, I would sing "Hallelujah!" but I'm not so I won't.~~~~~~I really despise the month of Feb., even though it is so short. Just truly dismal andd uninspiring. I would imagine that many suicides occur in Feb. If I was suicidal, I would choose Feb. to take me out, but I'm not so I won't.~~~~~~On a happier note, though I despise the saccharine happiness, like birthday cake roses, I have several new people I am meeting in the upcoming days. While most will wither and die, I always have hope that there will be one. No expectation, just a general positive attitude. After all, who wouldn't be tempted by my shoes?

So....here we are again.
I almost had nothing to say today, but then I recall my lovely Saturday afternoon, at Borders Books. A bit of inspiration from Annie Wilkes, though I would not go quite as far as she in her segmenting of her captive Paul Sheldon. I'm referring to Stephen King's "Misery" a mediocre book, probably a tolerable movie, but a wonderful premise.
Pain sluts - take heed! or comfort! and know that your woman is out there somewhere.
I did find it inspiring enough to write a poem and a half.

She's in love!
Like the demonatrix of sleeping beauty, I look to the mirror, or rather the photo lens to see my favorite comfort, my image.
Unfortunately, gentle readers, the one photo which truely in every way, embraces my soul will not be accepted by CM.
I hope the latest photo will suffice.

In a bind...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Braid a love knot.
I'm not afraid, though sometimes
a frayed strand causes sighs
and the size of the rope reduces.
Weave it back to whole.
We've come so far, preserve the tie, wrap the end,
and, rap on wood, the tensile trio holds again.

I was just perusing the writings.
I wrote a song called "Fortune Cookie" which describes my sage wisdom to myself, as sometimes I can become irrationa. Those days are lottery ticket days, as they occur quite infrequently;nonetheless, I try to channel that frantic energy into something useful...another teaser!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

First comes life, then understanding.
Truth be known like tidal flows.
While the weak gather acorns,
the wise wait 'till the forest grows.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Special Pet was thinking this weekend. Not unusual, but particularly clever. Perhaps it was my exquisite smothering technique of last week, or the leather outfit which sent his cerebrum to the moon, and his pituitary gland into a dull throb. Ah, yes, it must have been the way I draped him over the edge of the bed like a Yoga Action Figure. Or all three in a vortex of passion. Nonetheless the new toy is born: The Cock Stocks!
Lowe's is calling!

Just like Andrew Blake's site, a Teaser!!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Red Snow

12/27/05

I come to you, and you come to me.

A chilly morning journeys to meet

the darkness - still the Reigning King.

A familiar sight among the wooded glen-

A black stallion

In blinders of chrome, and you mounted menacing.

I am lured to your lair, hooded, but eyes wide

Black leather cape for this

Little Red Riding Hood scene,

Totem wolf, show me the way.

Glistening fangs,

Bared.

Likewise, I open my second skin,

first one is pale and chilled by the snow

Until you begin....

(what could be next?!?)

Words like waterfalls!
Finished the 3rd installment of "Bedtime Story"
Completed 3 more poems, writing 11 more(incomplete still), but smoothly flowing.

I shall revel in my bounty!!

Twas in the comfort and of the black. No, not the black leather bodice adorned in multiple parallel rows of safety pins, a functional tribute from the Special Pet, eagerly pawing at my second skin. It was the starless midnight looming and finally appearing like a Negative of a Vegas show girl, devoid of all the ostentatia. The simplicity of nothing presented the perfect palatte for my image - concentric rings. 3 rings. Barnum and Bailey should have so much excitement within!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now for the associated poetry that tends to preceed such events...(whip crack heard in background, her signal to begin)

Now the question remains - rings or bars?

My Kundalini has been adjusted. I had one little staple that irritated me more thanThe Little Old Man in the Hat the Pulls Out Right In Front Of You Only To Go 15 mph and Turn Left at the Next Street. Even moreso than The Cashier Who Can't Figure Out Change Without Looking At the Register. Yes, even more than The Screaming Child Whose Mother Won't Drag That Little Monstrosity Out of the Store To Be Paddled, Like He Should Be, Until His Ass Throbs Like a Heart Beating.

The Special Pet has to remove and reinsert a staple. This one, of several, is right at the separation of my glutes. They frame an area on my lower back, which will develop Keloid scars, or raised skin, in a body modification quest.They are in the shape of a downward triangle, and within, will hold my Kundalini Piercing, which could be a bar or a ring. Hmmm.... what to choose?

Mark your calendars:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Feb 14: Valentine's Day
For love in many forms, to many people. Anyone care to share their heart with me?
I have jars of formaldehyde waiting...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 21: Spring arrives
With the equinox, a time for balance. Indoor and outdoor activities are possible. Cemetaries once again bear the mark of my stilettoed footsteps~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 26: Sero's birthday
A wonderful transition - 35 and thriving!
Alive, afire, ready to attack worlds, both inner and outer. I should be out of Fahrenheit by then. It is my Viagra. I spray and "Zoinks"(Shaggy might say) I'm in a test-frenzy.

The INternet: IMpersonal, INtriguing, INfinite INformation, INspiring, INdulgent, INtrusive, INfectious.

What needs to be further explained is that to develop an Internet Connection, and not through a high voltage tower, one must be enthusiastic, realistic, and above all consistent. To develop a relationship, if that is what you are looking to do, communication, exchange of the safest sort, Must occur with some moderate predictable frequency. Thus-do not expect me to remember you a week from now if you do not make yourself an interest to me and a player in this volley of words. I talk to my people every day, and some particularly obsessed Pets call me 5-20 times a day.
Please take note-these suggestions only apply to Sero!

Happy Chinese New Year!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Zipper!

A not unpleasant but strange new sensation. I have a permanent one(as far as piercings are permanent) of staples. Looks like a zipper in mid-opening. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where might this be? I'll never tell...unless you ask.

BENDY

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That's my new word, which is frequently used in the stretching arts. I'm working on being "bendy" Of course you can use the adjective bendable, the noun bendiness , or even the colorful description bendelicious. I shall frequently employ them ad nauseum!

A little note to the universe, and all else concerned:

I suppose I have the integrity of a titanium aircraft, or the tenacity of a mastiff on angel dust in heat hovering over a rawhide, but it seems as though a person whom I like, whom I respect, whom I learn, and in turn who learns about me, becomes me, and is infinitely entangles in my world. In other words, I keep them around.
So to the chatters and hopefuls, do not be dissappointed when you are not accepted; there is only so much room at the Inn. And it takes a Very Special Person to meet me halfway. Dedicated to the end. A Spartan sub.
Again, serious as death, but still so much fun!

Rain like you wouldn't believe! I do like these days, peppered amongst the ones marinated in pungent sun, as I am Stuck Inside. Oh no - imagination set free to frolic in the house! (Now I'm at work, but I've made it my home). When I would be Stuck Inside, the challenge to amuse my only child self waas enticing and thrilling. How much of a mess can I make and clean before someone finds out? and how far can my thoughts venture from the black and white world into technicolor fantasy? Big brother ID leads little Ego into "Authorized Superego Only" space.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Today, a day like those of my gymnastic youth - mental calisthenics, that is.
Scaling fences, superceding speed limits...
I hope I don't get caught!

I have a new work - "Bedtime story"
Would you like me to read it to you?

Rain, rain, bitch, complain....
Now stop and suppose your indoor-stuck woes
are freedoms you lack when sunshine comes back. World of the Word, from Real to Absurb, will play with your head and keep your eyes fed. So tap, touch and type! No more of your gripe!

So i did.
Copied, edited, emailed, busy, busy, busy.

2 New poems for the peeking!

Gentle Readers, I certainly welcome/appreciate/reciprocate interest in my poetry and music.
Tonight was an Olympian task. At least it felt like that! Sparking this chemical reaction was: a sensational Yoga practice, followed by 1 pot of Starbucks, Cafe Verona,
1 box of kleenex, no lotion,
a visit to casket websites,
and a little "fire burn and cauldron bubble" incantation.
Poof! We have Postscript to Omega.
Edit tomorrow, and we have another creation!

Pennies from Sero -

I got rid of 5 today, maybe 6. Pennies. I throw them away. Not in the trash, where no one can get them, but out in the street. For the Bank of the Universe to distribute as necessary. I always get a substantial return on my investment. Money goes, money comes back. After flinging pennies like little copper frisbees, I have many times heard "Ma'am, you dropped your change..."
To which I reply, "I know!"
Think of the repercussions: a single mom needing change for groceries, the smile on a little boy's face as he finds booty for candy, a homeless person in the eternal quest for sustinance.

I know I shall hear "But that's insane!!"

No more so than lottery tickets...and I'm in the best savings account: the account of Good Karma.

JUST TO REITERATE - NO CHATS!

Craving Candy ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Je M'appel Candice, Bon Jour!
Debutante of ageless, robust, raucous humor. Classic and quaint, then bold and brazen, she towers and squats, above and below, for all to have, if just for this moment.
Teach me, romance me, eye Candy, show me a world so far away.
If I could ask just one question(hand rises to sunflower height, in between the Louvre and the Arch, in between the "ZHs" and the "EUs,"
could you teach me to be like you?

Highly Recommended Materials.

In the mode of syllabus preparation, I would like to recommend some things which were instrumental in my quest for personal growth.

1. 2112 by RUSH. I discovered them with "Moving Pictures" the most radio friendly stuff, but 2112 was so poignant, so piercing, it rattled my Kundalini before I even knew I had it!
2. Quantum Physics
The ideas which take every intellectual comfort and rip them up before your eyes in the cold way someone might rip a child's homemade birthday card.
a. Infinity and the Mind by Rudy Rucker(I'm almost positive)
Again, so disturbing and Kundalini piercing that you can't put it down
b. Zen and the Art of Motocycle Maintainance
3. Artist Alex Grey
Anything he does inspires, befuddles.

to be continued...

INSIDE OUT*****
My laundry, yes, ,,,,,

But I am referring to my Meditation CD.

It was never mass produced or mass marketed - simply meant for my Yogis. As I have heard throughout my life, My voice is very soothing, so it is very popular with them. If you would like to hear it, perhaps I will be generous enough to share.
Just don't insert it into your car stereo...
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.............

To clarify:
I get quite a few messages regarding my Rickenbacker 4001, which is my favorite instrument. I have played since I was 19, First in a band Weirdo Magnet, which began my bdsm adventures, then through a series of inconsequential groups to the group GINGER, from which that photo was taken. I have always been in original projects, so I am not a band slut, hopping from one to the next just to play. I would rather be sans band than in mediocre or (perish the thought!) an all cover band. Yikes! No , you get any change from that soul transaction, Mr. Lucifer.
GINGER was my first successful venture into songwriting, as the Ginger, the female guitarist and I were excellent co-authors. One CD -Grey - but many songs yet to be recorded. I still write, and Ginger and I still talk, perhaps reuniting someday. I believe our site is still up under Discmakers web page.
Currently though, I have had a cornucopia of words, poetry and prose to which I heard no accompanying music.

Yet...

Any McCartneys to my Lennon???

Buzz buzz busy day - I had to decorate the upstairs bedroom.

I also am listening to old/new CDs I purchased a Wayne's World(everything music, video, etc) Wayne is a cool guy.

I just spoke with a sub from CM who know Alex Lifeson, The Inspiration of the last decade, musically, vibrationally, otherwise.

Gnade Mich!

Switches and Doms:

Zip! No, don't even ask. I'll decorate you with my new glass shard collection if you say anything.

Now that we're all Listening, you may wonder about my past, and alternative roles I have taken. Yes, I have been submissive, but in unique ways.

I suppose the closest to a D/s where I was little s was with Eric. Supergenius. Really!
He graduated Yale at 19 in Chemical Engineering and went off to Cal Tech. Now, a supercomputergenius. Quirky as anything but very cool and a good sense of humor.

It was never discussed, but in retrospect, completely understood, that I was submissive. I would visit him at school(I was at the University at the time - no Mrs. Robinson!) for a weekend. He had a thing for redheads.  I remember the first time I arrived, he met me in fatigue pants, a tank top and unlaced combat boots. Hair completely uncared for, possibly for days. The "Jim from Taxi" 'Do! ANd he showed the prison-like barracks where sleeping and studying occurred(not much else!). Then he was back on the computer, and I sat on the floor beneath watching him work, play, work, in this sine wave of activity.
I almost starved to death. He didn't get anything to eat until about 5pm the next day. I could have, but I was just so captivated by him, an unspeakable magetism, a psychic strength; somewhat curious, like a visitor to a museum, rather Ripley's Believe it or Not!, and also attracted like a little girl with puppy love hearts in her eyes.
We barely spoke, as he was completely focused on the diminutive(remember it was the early 90s) monochromatic LCD.
Interesting how the head operates - the night that I stayed over, we slept in the bunk of a bed, a twin would be exaggerating. It was cold, and I was awakened frequently. He kept raching over to hold me or to touch me. Unspoken, Unknown, Unconscious urges, perhaps the only way he could manage to release human emotion. Waking, he was as calculating as the computer he romanced, but given the lure of REM, well...
I saw him for about 2 years, until he went to CA. He had a Vanilla girlfriend, but I only recognized her as the-unnamed-redhead-who-was-very-mad-at-this-other-unnamed-redhead. There could have been others; I wouldn't have cared.
As we became acquainted, we experimented.
Sex Drugs Rock n Roll
He was actually my first sexual experience.

One of the most interesting times we spent was at his house in Philadelphia. He had a king size waterbed, which translates to "I like sleep much better than sex"
Can't get good leverage for anything!
We talked about everything - herbs(not a euphemism-things like eucalyptus), Rush, a favorite band of ours, and our mutual fascination with Hitler. That conversation led to the photo series "Nazi Barber" I shaved him(there too) facially, in segments, from full beard to Hitler mustache, each time taking a photo in a Seig Heil! Then he was stripped, bald as an egg(except for the head hair-Solomon complex apparently)

I think more than anything, he was instrumental in a life's-path-critical-decision-making way. He introduced me to Alex Grey, an artist who has captured me ever since, and who inspires me still. More importantly, though, he showed me sexuality in an alternative way, a power exchange dynamic, sometimes in a Tantric way.

For him, life was not about "right" or "taboo," it was about effect. I try to incorporate that into my life now as much as I can. Just as I took him into me as an eager nubile, I still take-his words, his lessons, his magnetism, and try to exude the same, in MY way.

Ah,

A Kundalini Day! I can feel it, I crave it. I am in total ecstasy simply Being!
The energy is so powerful! Everything I do today will be like Superman halting a Christmas tree train, like Sisyphus pushing a pebble, like oceans dissolving a sprinkle of salt.
I must be focused, however, as it can overwhelm me. The equivalent of receiving my bamboo branch and Shaft at the same time - if I do not use my head.
I will have to let all know of today's adventures!

Oh dear, I almost forgot Walter.

He was a purchase. I bought him in high school at a slave auction. Just for a day, but a monumental day it was!

I began by dressing him in a genie outfit(bare midriff - it Was the 80s) He had to dance alongside of me down the halls, carrying my books, acting as a table at times. He always opened doors, picked up items I dropped(you would think that I wore vasoline gloves that day!) Your basic servitude.

At lunch, I put him to work, cleaning tables and serving me and all my friends. I also had him dance. Had I known then what I know now, he would have gotten fake breasts too!

In our anatomy class, it was celestial fortitude. We were going over the muscle system. I had him stand in front of the class as a human model, posing by flexing the different muscles. I really liked the dorsal views.

It was a wonderful day, to be so open in my dominion, he in his submission.

Post Script - to my Gentle Readers, Walter is a Urologist now. wink wink!

Ah, here is my technique ... under construction.
Start writing and leave it in limbo so that I must finish it.

I tried to write yesterday, but I literally could not get my fingers to type - just too fatigued!

It began, like a poem I wrote, with a Midnight call(expected of course). The Special Pet...

TBC

I wonder if I should practice writing in German, since most people don't read anyway.
Nonetheless, I persist:

An issue.

Just because I play in a diverse realm doesn't mean that I automatically want to play with You. There is a screening process, a merit system.

If I give you my number, you're still not ready to slide into home, Babe. It is only another way to filter out the sludge, much like an audio Brita. Even if I suggect we meet,
guess what?
you have to prove your devotion and dedication.
Ultimately, very few get to play naked games, and certainly almost no one touches my ventral staple.
Please leave the egos in the pile with all the others, lest it be made into a pulpy beverage akin to homemade OJ.

I affect Lightbulbs. Why? I don't know exactly. But I can knock them out in volume, anywhere anytime.
I first started breaking them in college. My roommate Joey remembers the eerie and expensive hobby, especially around times of stress, such as final - more popping. I had a brief fling(bad pun i know) with throwing objects. Several Plates flew from the top shelf of the cupboard. They don't break, Weebles would be so jealous ! I also tossed the coffee filters off the counter, and who knows how many pencil cups. This is why I am not totally facetious in describing my intention to astral project. Yogic practice awaits!
When I was ill last year, I broke 7 at once, 3 in the kitchen, 3 in the living room, and 1 in the laundry room. Same day. Yikes!
GE Light bulbs, fluorescents, street lights - I can break filaments, douse vapors, whatever keeps the fuse lit.
I suspect the energy leaving the light, entering me, is a key. I Do like to pass it along, so the light bulbs I break today are a not-so-subtle reminder to enlighten others.

Is that not the Truest sign of a teacher?

Let us not forget Slave Steve. He would be a silent friend as I studied in my junior and senior years at the University. We would often sit on the front porch, scarf or belt around the neck for symbolic capture(obviously not for true bondage). Of course, my MO for possession is not a Houdini bonodage device, but a magnetism, a boomerang of will bringing me those pulled along with the whirlwind.
Steve was a good sub - especially at appreciating the silence, and moving heavy furniture.

My Canadian slave - I wonder where he is now....?
Peter "frog" - 1991 - are you out there?

Between work and sleep:

I have a stick of cocoa butter. I need my entire body slathered in oil, but the challenge is that the stick is a wee bit bigger than a chapstick. And Do remember, Gentle Readers, that I have 40 inches of lower extremity, right and left, dorsal and ventral.

FYI:
I loved the smell of cocoa butter sunscreen, so when my mom bought a stick of it, I thought it was too good to be true. So I ate it. 1 bite. That was enough of my glossal ecstasy.
I was about 10 then.

Thus the origin of Domination.
Donald, my best friend became my trash can, imbibing, snorting, swallowing anything I could send past his lips. I remember my famous cocktail of condiments(everything I found on the refrigerator door, chilled with a maraschino cherry for divine presentation. He also would eat food from the ground. I thin he even ate an ant. I know he still would do that for me today, wherever he is.
Dedication.

He should have stuck with domina delightful devil(Sero to you) as he would have a lovely home , fur lined cage and all! I think upon last
meeting, he was paroled from a drug charge, appearing to have gone through life's equivalent of a paper shredder. I would have been much gentler with his ass play, and my male genitalia come in many colors - the UN of dildos!

What to do? thumb twiddles or brain riddles?
Neither, so I made a chain whip.

I DO seem to get quite a few requests for my Favorite Things, not one of which is a raindrop on a Rose.
However, Roses are at the top of the list.
In Addition:
1. Shoes. Boots. Footwear. I'm Insatiable. Still looking for the right attendant to the Shoe Room(Shroom).
2. Fahrenheit Cologne by Christian Dior, and Hugo Boss Red.
3. Exotic leathers, though I never turned away cow hide! Leather keeper position - part time available!
4. Coffee. All blends, all origins. It keep me zipping.
5. Tea. I need to relax to write all of these journal entries - pearls of wisdom, gems of thought.
6. Oils, creams, moisturizers of all genres.
Must keep buttery soft like the leather.
7. Stories. Quality words. Poems. Surprise Me.
8. Music. It really should be at the top, but I love most music. It also keep me zipping.

How dare he taunt the Bear! In jest, in fun, of course, but the Pet is playing Tease and will surely get a searing scar(Eschar!) if he does not tell Ursula what she wants to know. Even I do not want to make her growl like a German Grizzly. Her Stroika torture is horrible!(do your homework-look it up!)
Plans for the Zipper underway, as well as the Escharotic symbol of infinity, marked forever, as it should be, on the Pet.

I put a finger to my lips to hush myself - I must think first, though my enthusiasm is effervescent.
I shant reveal my upcoming plans, but if you haven't heard Type O Negative, please choose something, especially "October Rust"
for my style of Mistressing. That album is absolutely haunting in music, in theme. Simply about the adoration of a man for his MS.
I give it 5/5 heels(on the boot scale).

Random thoughts:

I think my Bio will be called "Even the Little ones are good."

My legs measure 40" to the hip in bare feet. But I'm working on that. Project 2006 = 41"!!

I will never ever be anyone's Mother - not even Scooter - he's my roommate, and even he could be tossed out on his wing if he makes a mess.

Where is that tongue?? Oh, here in my cheek!

I suppose I'm looking for someone who can amuse me as much as I do myself. I'm off today, but setting aside the Snow Sphere Project, I choose to write and work on projects. I'll share a quip about Yet Another promise to be the Best Sub EVER!
I responded:
Many attempt the climb, but frozen cadavers littler Everest!
Take this with the seriousness intended.

Dear Collar Me subs,

Due to overwhelming volume of mail, I shall only be answering those emails that offer The Greatest potential. I regret that I cannot be more available, but I do work AND teach Yoga, AND of course, attend to wonderful subs, so time is a factor, and unlike me, Finite.

Thank you - Sero

I should make a list of adjectives that describe today. I won't, as this willconsume a great deal of time, but it would give me an opportunity to consult a favorite read "Roget's Classic"
Piercing abounds!!
From the Special Pet, a temporary until permanent fixture arrives for my Kundalini awakening. We call it the "Bermuda triangle" - I warned him not to put anything in there he would be willing to lose. Bold! Didn't listen!
From me, Mistress turned seamstress, we play "Pin Cushion." Inescapable bondage indeed!

Philosophical badminton anyone?
To accept all, in all ways, all forms:
Does that mean you have No standards, or simply the Highest as to be devoid of standards altogether?

Did I mention how much I love my life?
It's official.
Special Pet pierce-o-rama coming up,(reciprocation of penetration!)
Reuniting with old friends,
11 day semester break coming soon,
who needs a lottery!

UPDATE!
I want to meet people who can MEET me in Person. If you are not capable, through distance, situation, etc., please Do Not request a chat.
Do not request them anyway - I do not like them, Sam I am.
Not Collar, not Yahoo, not AOL,
If you want to speak, request my Cell.

Big Note: I do not train virgins - anymore!
Please send a photo with your words.

The wordsmith never overlooks a syllable.
If I must sub it is to the lexicon, the only monolith which chains and binds me inextricably.
The day is perfect..so far...anyone choose to make it moreso?
Perhaps join me in a Cinderella fantasy?

Captured

An angel?s hair would be so strong.

I have nothing.

Not a rope, a tether, a piece of string.

Nothing.

And yet you are captured.

Door and windows invite honeysuckle.

I look away.

You kneel, you crawl, you shadow me

Always.

The meaning of captured.

In sentimental solitude we breathe.

I say nothing.

A smile, a gasp, a sinister smile

ascends

My will has you captured.

Applause resounds, players bow.

I plan Act II

A kiss, a sigh, we turn away

Slowly

I too am captured.

Oh my, what a week!

Photos for a Pin-up calendar - Poor Santa! Or maybe poor Mrs Claus after I sweep him up in the red velvet.

An escharotic(burning passion!) experience with My Special Pet.
I usually use my smotheing gloves, but it was barehanded lust
Ursula played with her Vulcan torture devices.

Thanksgiving - I DO give thanks, but I also get pampered. Laundry boy and foot man will be over.

I even have Monday off!
But the Yoga stops for no holiday!

I'm new to the site, but well-versed in the scene. I work to create just the right scene. Thus, my current pasttime is generating a scenario and gathering the items for upcoming piercings. My Special Pet is doing this with/for me. He has done a Kundalini piercing, as I call it, on my lower back. Fabulous and perfect. Let the games begin.

Serenity70 Female Submissive, 51, Muskegon, Michigan	Serious1 Male Dominant, 40, Durham, North Carolina	servantatyourf Male Submissive, 40	seriousedom Male Dominant, 27
SergeantMajor Male Dominant, 66, Minneapolis, Minnesota	Serricunium Male Dominant, 57	servertude Male Submissive, 58, Putnam, Connecticut	servantatyourf Male Submissive, 43, Amsterdam
ServeNObey Male Dominant, 52, Northern VA, Virginia	servantnj Male Submissive, 43	serveme1950 Male Dominant, 50, NW Illinois, Illinois	servilemaid Male Submissive, 57

sero8

About sero8

Infinite charging.