Friday, December 16, 2005

Late night: In bed with Roman, on his laptop... Clothespins and rope scattered around us.
Go read the new column.
Bye!

Thursday, December 15, 2005

I have been very, very busy with clients lately. And that’s been a good thing. But wow - busy.

Fortunately for me, about 98% of my clients are really cool guys, and I like them. (There are about 2% who make me think, “I so do not understand this person,” but that’s another story. Most of them don't come see me very often, anyway.)

The thing is, I cannot talk specifically about any of my cool clients, because it would take more time than I’ve got to talk about all of them, and I don’t want to make any of them feel left out by not being mentioned on the blog. So I usually try to express my pleasure in their company in person, rather than putting it here.

But I have to say something, because I have some amazingly fabulous boys and they are so great, they just knock me out.

Yeah, you know you who are. You so rock, and I’m really glad you come to see me.

***

The other people I have to blow kisses to are Max, Roman and Miss K, all of whom have gotten much less of my time and attention than usual for the last few weeks, because I've been preparing for The Big Event*. I love you all. Thanks for your understanding...

(*What Big Event, you ask? I'll talk about it next week. Possess your souls in patience.)

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

What's Up?

You've got three more days to bid on a threesome of me, Monk and Imp of Satan in the Strangercrombie Auction - don't miss out!


Speaking of the Imp - aka Rose Algren - she's in a fashion show/pillow fight this Saturday night at the Catwalk, along with the women of Salon De Sade, and SnM Underworld. Not only will the show be cool, but apparently the Catwalk has been sold and may even be closing forever, at least under that name. So go see Rose's sexy clothes and say bye-bye to the venerable Catwalk Club, a fixture on the fetish club scene in Seattle for many years.


I just noticed this section on Craig's List: Adult Gigs. Is Craig's List the coolest thing or what? (Although the many of the ads in the "erotic services" section seem fraught with personal drama. Yeek.)


Give up more money: My pal Jane over at JanesGuide.com is running a NCSF fundraiser. The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom is a great organization that does a lot of good for sexually diverse people, and if you're reading me, you're in favor of freedom for sexually diverse people. (If you're not, then scram - I don't talk to people who are against sexual freedom.)
Jane says:
In the month of December, you can join NCSF (or renew membership) for only $10, by joining through JanesGuide. This is a $15 discount from the regular individual membership price of $25! And for the first 50 people who join through JanesGuide, we will match your membership fee of $10.

Anyone wanting to give Max an Xmas gift should know that the NCSF is high on his make-a-contribution list, along with the ACLU.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

So I promised to talk about the party, didn’t I? Well, it all started out innocently enough with a platter of kinky gingerbread-people from Tambo and NerdyGirl. The image is a bit on the large side, because I’ve included a guide in this image, so you can tell what the various decorations are supposed to represent. This is actually only some of the cookies, because we were eating them pretty rapidly – they were yummy.

In many ways it was a typical private party for the crowd I hang around with. Max had a date to single-tail a pretty girl, which he did very nicely and at some length. Monk did terrible things to his wife, which made her giggle and try to bite him. I exposed Jae’s breasts to a roomful of people – which really didn’t raise any eyebrows - and complimented R on the colorful bruises I found there. I chatted, I gossiped, I ogled, I smooched.

And then my host, J, repeated an offer he’d made to me a week earlier – his body as a pincushion. I like piercing people, and he’d also invited R to join in, and so that just made us a happy little threesome.

This is why I love being at private parties as opposed to someplace like the Wet Spot. The Spot is great in lots of ways, but they have rules about things like where you can do bloodsports, and you have to obey them. (Yes, even me. Mostly.)

But since we were at J’s house, we just sat down on the couch and started sticking him, and if anyone didn’t want to watch, they were free to walk out of the room. We did lose two very nice - but not especially kinky - girls that were friends of one of the other guests. They’d gotten a bit quiet watching Max wield the single-tail, but I think the needles pushed them over the edge. Oh well.

People were sort of drifting in and out behind us, and apparently R and I missed some hot scenes in the other room, but we had a hell of a good time. We made J roar really nicely, and in between roars he looked very, very endorphin-stoned. I like that.

Then R got out her knife and started poking at the needles with it. She’s so mean! People think I am the evilest girl in town, but let me tell you, I have never taken hold of the hub of a needle and rotated the whole damn thing one hundred and eighty degrees clockwise in someone’s skin. (Of course, now that I’ve seen it done I will. Woot!) She got lots of roaring on that one. I thought J might levitate off the couch for a minute there.

Pinching needles is more my specialty, and we did lots of that too. Then J impressed us by putting two needles in his own chest. He was quite, quite stoned when we finished, and R and I had a nice little sadistic contact-high, too.*

It was a really good time. I should play at parties more, and I’m usually too busy talking and hanging out with pals. But it was a nice reminder of what I like about spontaneous scenes.


*Note: Piercing is not a 100% safe activity. You should never do anything like this without the supervision of people who have already done it and know what they are doing. Be sure to use only fresh, sterile needles, and use rubbing alcohol to clean the area before and after you do the piercings. Wear latex (or nitrile) gloves, and change them if you play for a long period or touch unclean stuff during the scene. Use needles once, on one person, then dispose of them in a bio-hazardous waste receptacle (sharps container). Even if it’s done correctly, you may bleed, bruise or possibly even scar from this activity.

Monday, December 12, 2005

Cleaning Diet Coke Off My Keyboard

Complete text of an extremely (unintentionally?) hilarious email sent to me, in the wake of Friday's post:

"A friend of mine runs a clothing store for men. He chooses not to sell jeans. He is a snappy dresser and disapproves of jeans. He doesn't like them so he doesn't sell them. In a way, he is imposing his opinion upon others. Even though he has no right to interfere with a sartorial decision made by a man, perhaps even with the advice of a fashion consultant. Are you truly saying that a person who owns a business can't decide what they want to sell and what they don't want to sell?

The nice thing about controlling birth control pills is that it keeps women in check. So long a women get pregnant they will need men to take care of them and their relative submission to proper male authority is assured. This is good because women are somewhere on the developmental scale between children and adults. They are not fully capable of making good decisions for themselves. They are not truly adult and, like children, the mentally retarded, animals, and members of some lesser races, are best herded along by the white male shepards who have made America the number one country in the history of mankind.

Now that you have a better understanding of the issues involved, perhaps you should retract your opinion and/or remove it from your website.

No need to thank me. Consider it noblesse oblige."


I'm really not sure what part of this is the most snicker-inspiring: is it the fact that he (and it was signed with a male name) thinks men's fashion and women's medical care are of equal importance? The fact that he's equating a doctor with a "fashion consultant"? ("Take two pairs of Miss Sixty jeans and call me in the morning.")

Or is it that he's pretending to think I'm now going to agree with him that women should be submissive to men? (White men, that is - you don't want those "lesser-race" men getting any ideas.) Oh yeah, sure, hold on a minute while I abandon my career and totally reverse my entire worldview based on your email. Uh-huh. Because I've certainly never had anyone tell me that white men are supposed to be in control of everything, all the time. That's a really fresh idea.

However, I don't believe this is sincere. I think it's just a troll. The spelling is far too correct, for one thing. A real sexist, racist butthead would write something like:
U KNOW U WEEMUN GOTS TO KNUW YER PLACE ALUNG WIT THEM COLOREED PEEPLE SO YU BETTR GET PREGNINT REEL SUUN MISSY.
So let that be a lesson to you, flame-baiters. Real fascists don't use commas correctly!

***
Tomorrow: pictures and commentary about a fun party I was at Saturday night. Sneak previews of some of the madness here, here and here. (Not-work-safe picture here.)