Dispatches from the Front

So, it's Saturday afternoon, and I'm at Kinkfest, and I know what you’re all thinking. You're thinking, "Roman, Matisse – what happened with the Weakest Kink Contest!"

Well, I don’t have a lot of time to write, being as I am a leather conference where every minute is jammed with workshops and parties and hanging out with friends and so on. And Roman is off vending his cute little butt off, since everybody wants to buy his rope - I know he has no time.

But… a sneak preview. We did indeed choose a winner. And the winner was…(insert drumroll here)…Contestant Number 2, the lovely and talented Krystal! She fulfilled her final challenge most beautifully, and I’m glad she won. She’s a sweet, lovely girl. And Roman and I had a very, very good time being very, very mean to her.

Calliope was a worthy contestant and we’re glad she played. At her request, we won’t be discussing her final challenge and the situation surrounding that, but she’s a great person and we wish her well.

So, after we’re back from our weekend – and slightly recovered – Roman and I will be writing in some detail about the completely charming and nasty scene we did with Krystal, and we have some pictures and some video footage, too. (Not of the scene itself, no cameras allowed in Kinkfest dungeons.)

Meanwhile, I think a hot shower and a brief nap are the next indicated step for me - I have another dungeon party to attend tonight, and I’ll have to look and feel my best…

So it’s Friday, and Max and I are in Portland gearing up for a weekend of kinky debauchery at Kinkfest. And that includes the climax – so to speak – of The Weakest Kink contest.

Roman and I have had a lot of fun with the contest - everyone who participated was great. (Except perhaps that “Lola” person…) So whatever happens, I’m sure it’ll be a good time. And tonight, Roman and I have one final challenge to determine the winner, which – oh no! – I’m not going to reveal here. Sorry, can't ruin the surprise for the last two contestants. As you know, it’s down to Calliope vs. Krystal. We’ve come up with a really charming little game to play with them, so stay tuned for a full report on that later this weekend.

Meanwhile, I intend to shop, schmooze, flirt, play, and have some rowdy sex. Bye!

Edited to add: Oh, and of course - the new column and the Kink Calendar are up, so enjoy those...

Bizarre Bazaar

Ring ring!

Me: Hello?
Caller: Hi, do you sell items?

You're probably thinking, "what kind of items?" But I know what he means – he means used panties. He might also mean used hose, or socks, or worn shoes. But they usually say that specifically if that's what they mean. So I'm guessing he means panties.

I have nothing against the idea of selling someone my worn underwear - in fact, I think it's sort of charming. The idea that something which has intimately touched me - or, by extension, any woman - automatically becomes a symbol of womanhood, almost a sacred object, worthy of sexual deification and worship...Well, I find that completely appropriate.

But there's a problem with the implementation: I don't wear panties. I mean, occasionally I do, if I'm wearing a short skirt. I have a dozen plain black g-strings for this purpose. But the rest of time, I'm going commando.

I used to wear underwear, but a number of years ago it just started to seem unnecessary. And then there's the fact that none of my lovers have a lingerie fetish. Max doesn't care anything about it – he especially dislikes bras, and would just as soon I didn't wear those, either, although I often do just because it's more comfortable than bouncing around. Roman doesn't get schwinged by lingerie either. Like Max, he has the, "Yeah, that's nice, now take it off so I can get to you" attitude.

Thus, the only time I wear sexy lingerie is with my favored clients who prefer that look to the fetish-wear, and who often buy me the things they'd like to see me in. There is something sort of extra-kinky about ruthlessly tormenting someone while wearing a lacy pink camisole and panties from Cosabella.

But I wouldn't want to break up that set, so instead, let's see if this guy happens to want a used black thong.

Me: Well – I suppose I could, yes. What were you looking for?
Caller: Um, panties. White cotton panties, with the full bottom. Or pantyhose, the kind of thicker, heavier kind. And, um, really worn ones, you know?

Oh, wow, I'm not dissing his fetish, but – no way. There's no way I'm going to wear big ole full-bottom panties or heavy, itchy support panty-hose long enough to qualify as "really worn". (Not for what I imagine he wants to pay for them.)

Me: You know, sweetheart, those just aren't things I wear in my normal life, and so I don't have anything like that lying around. And I don't really want to wear them, so… If you liked the finer, silkier stockings, or g-strings, I could maybe do that, but…
Caller: Yeah, but – it's the smell I really like, and those things don't hold the scent very well.
Me: I understand. Sorry.
Caller: Yeah, okay, bye.

A reasonable question, but not a fetish I can easily cater to…

Some Random Thoughts

It really makes me laugh when I go to a fetish website that bills itself as "real, hardcore fetish" and all the (sic) "femme doms" are a) wearing collars and leather wrist cuffs and b) holding their whips in such a way that if they were to actually swing the thing, they'd hit themselves in the face.

Heard from a submissive: "You know, there just aren't many greeting cards that are designed for a submissive to give to a dominant." Hallmark, there's a demographic calling you.

According the Wikipedia, I'm a BDSM authority. (See footnote number one.) How charming. So stop saying "dom-may", all of you.

I think The Encyclopedia of Sex is getting some very bogus entries. Abe Lincoln? Patrick Cook? Yeah, right.

Nice page about public etiquette for submissives.

I want some of this stuff…

I also want one of these. I saw a leather one over the weekend that looked (and smelled!) so nice, but I think this might be more practical for my purposes.

Recent good reads: Blink: The Power Of Thinking Without Thinking by Malcolm Gladwell. The author of "The Tipping Point" is back with a very interesting book about a brain function he calls, "our adaptive unconscious: a 24/7 mental valet that provides us with instant and sophisticated information to warn of danger, read a stranger, or react to a new idea. "
Essentially, it's about how people make snap decisions, and why some people are better at it than others. Since, in my professional life, I am often required to size up someone in an moment and make a yes/no decision about whether I want to deal with them, I found this fascinating. Not quite as essential as The Gift Of Fear to the Sex Worker's Reading List, but I burned right through it just the same.

Now I must quit stalling and go do what I ought to be doing…

The Family (Jewels) Album

One of my favorite boys likes to have photos taken when we play, and he always gives me such pretty pictures. Here's one - but before you go look, read the description he wrote of what you'll see. (Big image, if you're on dial-up. And very, very not work-safe.)

"I call it chopstick ball torture or cbt, not to be confused with CBT. I think it is an exquisite form of sexual torture. The chop sticks form and separate the balls to create a lot of pressure in the scrotum. They form a lever with the balls at the fulcrum. Slight movements of the chopsticks increases the pressure and pain in the scrotum. It is only recommended for an expert Dominatrix, such as you."

What a wonderful man, to let me do such terrible things to him.

Last night: Workshop was great, party was great…Thanks to everyone who came and contributed.

Note to my clients: I will be available tomorrow and Wednesday this week, and then I leave for Kinkfest. We’re traveling home on Monday, so I will be booking appointments for Tuesday through the week.

I've had a number of people from Portland call me and ask if I'm booking appointments there while I'm in town, and the answer is no. Sorry, but I'll be a very busy girl all weekend.

Roman posted the latest update in The Weakest Kink Contest, so check that out if you haven't already.

Amusing blogs for today: The Call Girl. Quite interesting...

And an Australian guy's rules for sex worker's clients, who are apparently called "punters" down under. While some of the structure is different because it's legal there, a lot of the suggestions seem to line up with mine. Tire-kickers, indeed.

Today I go to the gym, get a facial, take care of some boring business stuff, and then sit down and write a column. I'm not sure what I'm going to write about, but I'm considering something along the lines of: "How To Tell If Someone Is A Good Dominant". What do ya'll think about that?

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As per usual, I spent last night doing kinky things with Roman, so no long post right now.

Amusing poly incident of the day: When Roman and I got up this morning, Max, Maura and Jake were down in my garage, finishing some hemp rope. (Max likes Roman's rope, but he's enough of a rope-fetishist to like doing his own.) I personally thought it was not a big deal, but Roman seemed to think that qualified as at least a slight French Farce Moment.

Today, I have one of my favorite boys coming to see me, and then a loooong workout, and then tonight, I get to lounge around my house and watch Max tie up a very pretty girl. That'll be nice...

Meanwhile, the new column and the Kink Calendar are up, and I also found this interesting: Morgan's Time Line of Hooking. I do have a number of friends who are escorts, so I've kept tabs on what's going on in that world since I left it, and I've observed the same progression. Although not all of the customs she mentions are prevalent in the professional-dominance business - (trial dates? You must be joking!) - there is some overlap. There are "mistress review boards", for example, and it has become unusual, and slightly suspect, for mistresses to not show their face in web sites. Like the author, I'm not always sure all these developments are an entirely good thing. In some ways, yes, they're cool. In others - I don't know.

One more: I just saw this and had to add it to today's list: Anatomy of a bad response to a kinky online profile. See, I'm not the only snarky kinky chick in Seattle...

Be a Model of Restraint

I've got a big event this weekend – a photo shoot on Saturday with the incomparable glamour photographer Tommy Edwards. I've worked with Tommy a number of times before, and while I know some really talented photographers, no one has ever made me look as good as Tommy has. He's absolutely the best at what he does. It's my personal opinion that every woman – and hell, every man, too – should have really gorgeous pictures taken of them at least once. Even though I know that I actually don't roll out of bed looking just like that picture up there, it still just makes me feel good to look at them.

So I'm doing the usual pre-Tommy-shoot regime: the 7-day low-carb crash diet, to get off a pound or two of water-weight. And I bumped up the length and intensity of my cardio routine – oh, the muscle burn… But it's worth it for Tommy. I'll post some pictures when I get them.

Which brings me to something else… In the past, there have been some people who whined at me about that fact that although I don't see female clients, I have pictures of myself with female fetish models on my professional site. Personally, I think those folks are suffering from a surfeit of literal-mindedness – it's art, people, and the language of art is symbolic, not actual. Plus, it's just practical: there are tons of female fetish models. There are very few males.

But in the spirit of fairness, I'm going to make an offer. And if no one takes me up on it, I don't want to hear any more carping about my girl models. I would love to have a cute boy come and model with me this Saturday afternoon. Here are the requirements:

Be way cute, trim and nicely-muscled.
Be over 18, obviously.
Be willing to show your face. No masks or hoods or anything like that.
Be willing to appear as a submissive and be subjected to some bondage and light BDSM play. Nothing too-too heavy, it's a shoot, not a scene.
Be willing to sign away all rights to the photos.
Understand that this is not a real BDSM scene, and that it's not about your gratification, sexual or otherwise.
Understand that while you can certainly make limits and offer suggestions, you are really just a prop in this situation, so Tommy and I will generally expect you to do as you are asked without fussing.

What will you get in return? Pictures of yourself with me, by Tommy. And the opportunity to spend an afternoon in close proximity to me.

Now, I could get any number of female models to do this shoot with me under exactly those conditions, within the same time frame. I will be quite surprised if I can get a male candidate. But, hey, prove me wrong, I'd be pleased.

I will of course need to see pictures of you, and then meet you in person, before Saturday, and Tommy gets a vote on you, too. But if you think you've got what it takes, drop me a note. You'll get some beautiful art out of it.

UPDATE: Much to my pleasant surprise, I have two serious contenders for this gig, including one hot guy I already know, who I thought would not be able to show his face due to professional considerations. Yay! So, I have to get Tommy's approval on this, but we might soon be looking at some sexy male-submissive pictures.

(Author's note: I decided I'm just fine with the fact that this may discourage certain fetishists from calling me.)

Ring Ring!

Me: Hello?
Caller: Um, hi…I have a strange question. I mean, you might think it's strange.

I prepare to be asked about something I think is quite normal, as that's usually how this works.

Me: What is it you'd like to know?
Caller: I saw that picture, on the other site, of the girl with the dog collar on…Do you do dog-play?

See, very tame. This guy wants to pretend he's a dog and have me put a collar on him, make him bark and spank him with a rolled-up newspaper. Hopefully he won't hump my leg, though.

Me: Sure, I do doggie role-play.
Caller: Role-play?
Me: Yes – you want to do a scene where you pretend to be a dog, right?
Caller: No, um…That's not what I mean. I mean, do you have…um…Do you have a dog? A real dog?

Okay, I think I was wrong about him being tame. But, oh, I really hope this isn't what I think it is. Maybe I'm being too perverse and cynical. Maybe the SPCA is his favorite charity and he's soliciting donations. Maybe he belongs to PETA and he's just checking to make sure I don't signal-whip my pets. I'm clinging, desperately, to any shred of hope that he isn't thinking what I think he's thinking.

Me: Why are you asking me this?
Caller: Well, I'm from (DELETED) and there used to be this pro dom I saw here, Mistress X.

Snarky aside: I know exactly who he means, and if he spent much time with that lady, he's lucky if he's still got a functioning dick and a viable credit rating. Permanent PMS and a shopping addiction does not a skilled Mistress make. But I had no idea she...Oh, Jesus.

Caller: And, well, she had a dog. And she used to bring it into the sessions.

Oh, this is so gross. But I can't decide whether I should just hang up now, or stay on the phone and listen to icky gossip about this other Mistress.

Me: No, I don't have a dog.

And even if I did… We're skating very close to the top of my "Eeeeuuuwwww!" list of activities. But I'm trying to stay calm, because there's no point in getting emotional with this guy.

Caller: Could you borrow one?

Okay, fuck calm. Borrow one? Borrow one? "Excuse me, Friend X, but could I take your German Shepherd out for a walk? We might be gone for a couple of hours. You haven't had him neutered yet, have you? Great."
And then they wonder why the dog has this funny look on his face when I bring him home. I'd be the Michael Jackson of the canine world. I've heard of stud animals, but this is ridiculous.
Plus, don't you have to train a dog to... I mean, humping a human's leg is one thing, but surely a dog wouldn't just... Oh, this is too gross to even think about.

Me: You know what, that's disgusting. This conversation is over, don't call me again.
Caller: No, wait, it's not what you think.
Me: You're calling a dominatrix and asking her if she has a dog she can bring into the session and you're telling me it's not what I think?
Caller: But, but - it could be a female dog!

Click. I hang up.

I've been getting a little gentle fussing from some readers, lately, about my not writing as much. Have no fear, I'm not going away. But as this blog grows more popular, blogging here grows a little more challenging. There are a number of complicating factors behind the scenes, and one of those factors is the effect it's having on both my existing and my potential clientele.

This blog does attract some people to me, which was one of the reasons – although definitely not the only one - I started it. But lately I'm hearing remarks from both regular guys and potential clients that give me pause. They go along one of three lines…

From a potential client: "I can't do the kinds of things you talk about your clients doing on your blog. That's too extreme for me, so you probably don't want to see me, huh?"
Au contraire. The edgy scenes do make a compelling read. But what's true is that the gentler sessions far outnumber the more intense ones, and as long as I feel like I'm connecting with someone, I enjoy doing them. Still, the result is that now before I write, I have to weigh, "If I post about this, will I scare off guys I'd enjoy playing with?"

From a potential client: "I've been wanting to call you, but I was afraid I'd say something stupid and wind up on your blog, you know, as one of those callers."
I'm hearing this more often than I like. I even had one perfectly nice guy who, when my cell phone lost the connection, assumed I had hung up on him and sent me a sad email apologizing for not saying the right thing.
Guys, you have to be really aggressively stupid to be featured as one of those callers. Innocently inquiring about rates, hours and possible activities is perfectly appropriate, and I deal with lots of new folks who don't know quite what to say or what questions to ask. But this worries me slightly, because I definitely don't want nice, honest guys to be scared to call me.

From an existing client: "You wrote about his scene… How come you never write about our scenes? Do you like playing with him better? Do you want me to do what he does?" Yes, there's been a little jealousy/competitiveness among my A-Team boys. It's at a level that's both manageable and forgivable, but since most of my guys aren't that familiar with the concepts of polyamory, trying to explain to them how it is that I like both scenes equally is uphill work. The result: I'm less likely to write about scenes with clients, even though I have some really hot ones.

I am pleased by the fact that no one seems worried I'll "out" them. (Or at least, not that I've heard about.) I never, ever would, of course – but I can't expect them to know how very seriously I take my client's privacy.

Bottom line is: I'm having to try to adjust what I say here without losing the things about the blog that make it entertaining. That's tricky. But I'm working on it…

Okay, the link to the eagerly anticipated update to The Weakest Kink Contest is posted on Roman's site. Read and enjoy...

Now, for the contestants, the next challenge:

Clothespins. One of my favorite BDSM toys, as anyone who's ever played with me can attest to. Cheap, easily available, easy to carry, and so many places to put them! Get some, if you haven't already got them. Get big ones, get small ones, wooden ones, plastic ones, metal ones - whatever suits your fancy. And put them on yourself. As many as you possibly can – in as many places are you can. If you have someone to help you, great. If not, well, do your best. Take a picture of yourself so decorated. And then, also take a picture of your skin right after you've removed the clothespins. Can we see red marks? Oooohhh. Little indentations in your skin? Double-ooooohhh.
This is going to indicate a little something to us about your ability to handle some intense sensation, so send us the pictures to show us what you can do. Roman and I will be judging based on how many you've got on, where on your body you placed them, and whether we can see marks afterwards.

Okay, kids, Roman is off doing the pre-Kinkfest Death March of ropemaking at the shop – complete world domination doesn't happen by itself, you know - so we're a teensy bit behind on the Weakest Kink contest update. But we do have the submissions, and woo-hoo, do we have some opinions on them. Either later today or tomorrow, I swear.

Other than that, I don't have a whole lot to say at the moment…So I'll just wave hello to some of my friends. Like the sweet foot-kissing man I met this week, who's on his way back to his native country right now. Hope you find your way to Seattle again some time…

And I'm thinking of another dear friend who's on an extended visit to yet another romantic foreign country right now – I hope the food is as delicious, the art as lovely, and the women as beautiful as they are reputed to be…See you in May!

Speaking of old friends, I will be at the Wet Spot tonight to give a big hug to a great local guy, S, who's just returned from military duty overseas. It's been a long year for him and I'm so glad he got to come home - and in one piece, no less. This guy gave a lot of parties and reached out to a lot of new kinky people here in Seattle, and that makes him a good guy in my book. Okay, sure, sometimes he reached out with a very sharp object in his hand - but hey, it was meant as a sign of affection. He's a good-hearted guy. In a sort of a nasty, twisted sort of way, y'know. And I'll always remember fondly those times he let me do sadistic electrical things to him.
He'll only in town a short while before he heads off to join his sweetie, so come out tonight if you want to see him.

Oh, my god, did we get an amazing "Weakest Kink" entry from one of the contestants yesterday. Those other girls are really going to have to come up with something good to beat it...We'll post results tomorrow.
The new column and the Kink Calendar are up, so in the meantime, be amused by those. And no, none of those personal ads are direct quotes, from the Lustlab or anywhere else. I made them all up, based on conversations with friends and - unfortunately - some personal experience.
And now, I have a sweet man from a foriegn country coming over to spend some quality time kissing my feet, so if you'll excuse me...

More work with doorways. I have jokingly referred to this image as, "The X-Files photo", because I used to be a fan of the show, and to me it kinda has that, "Here come the aliens!" look to it. Other people have commented that it suggests someone praying. Depends on your point of view, I suppose.


Self-portrait from 2002. Digital capture with one tungsten spot, and sepia toning added in PS.

In other news...a cute kinky story by Liss about her adventures with a creative top. I was at this party - you should've asked me to X you, Liss. I'd of been nice. Really. Hey, stop laughing!

Girly Fashion Stuff

I'm in love. Or at least, deeply in lust. And who can blame me, with such sexy Spaniards like this around?

#9674, Itali Negro Rock Negro, Malicia Tacon Acero. Even the name sounds sexy. I'm lusting from afar for today, but I really don't know if I'll be able to restrain my passion...

I'm in pre-KinkFest shopping mode, you see - it's only two weeks away! On Monday, I went over to see Rose, of Imp Of Satan to order some new tight-n-shiny clothes. She does such great work, and it's so nice to have her right in the neighborhood. She's going to make me some yummy blue PVC pants and a matching top, with black mesh insets down the sides. While I do wear fairly traditional fetish outfits when I'm in my dungeon, for social events these days I'm drawn to fetishwear that looks sort of like Italian motorcycle gear, or like it might have been designed by Nike. Something different - you don't want to go to a conference and be one of seventeen women in a room all wearing a corset, miniskirt and thigh-high boots. Oh, the horror!

Rose makes all kinds of fetishwear, but one of her specialties is catsuits. Now, I'm generally of the opinion that catsuits look best on taller people - say, five-foot-eight or better. (Although I did see a small woman at a party recently wearing a bright red catsuit by Rose, and she looked smashing.) However, Max decided he liked the idea of me in a black catsuit, so we bought one of those, too. I have to say, while I still don't think it's my absolute best look, Rose's catsuit makes me look far better than any other catsuit I've ever tried on. That's talent.

My other fashion designer friend, Orion, is also making me an outfit, so I went fabric-shopping for that - and naturally would up buying a ton of stuff, enough for three or four pieces. But it's gotten so I hate buying fetishwear off the rack, because most of it is so badly made, and so wildly overpriced for what it is, that it just drives me mad. So, custom-made is the only way to go. I see that another local girl I know, Tonya Winter, is doing custom latex clothing, I should think about getting something from her sometime.

Now if I just knew a shoe-store owner, I'd be all set...

Greatest Hits

Congratulate me. I've now been blogging, quite steadily, for just over one year. I think that's an accomplishment.
For those of you who are new around here and haven't gone all the way back through the archives, I've picked out some of the best/most popular entries. ("Most popular" being gauged by the number, and the passion, of the comments.) I only went up to January of 2005, because even if you just this minute found me, you should at least have read back a few weeks.

Opinions, experiences, and general musings on life
Human Interest Story
Thoughts On Being A Pretty Girl (This may well have been the most controversial post I've written.)
BDSM Word Of The Day
Mr. Defensive
Open Secret
The Sixty Four Thousand Dollar Question (The other "Most Controversial" candidate.)
and the follow-up post: Comments On Female Clients
What I'm Not
Word Whores: The "Not My Dog" post
Poly Stars In Alignment
Public Encounter
You Dirty...
French Farce Weekend

About Max:
Fifth Anniversary
More About Max

About Roman:
The Naked Truth
He's Just A...

Playing with my boys:
Flying High Again
My Idea of a Good Time

Conversations about the biz:
Advice on Clients
More Advice
Dinner with Miss K: Furniture Fantasy
Conversation with Miss K: Her Weird Phone Calls

And, everyone's favorite category: Strange Communiqués From People: The phone calls, the emails, and the voicemails.

The Thirty Seconds Rule
Near Goddess Experience
Sexual Darwinism
And This Would Be My Problem Why?
Legend In His Own Mind
New Cell Phone - Old Memories
New York State Of Mind
Master and Commander
Weirdass Email Of The Week
Phone Messages
I Couldn't Make This Stuff Up
From The Malebag
More Email Silliness
Freakazoids

Okay, so now that Roman has posted the results of "The Weakest Kink: Week One", I will issue the next challenge to our remaining contestants...

Go to a pet store that does custom pet tags and get a pet tag cut with a name you'd like Roman and I to call you by. Could be your real name, if you want. But it could a play name - perhaps something more...creative. Or it could be your name, plus a descriptive phrase of some sort. Like, "Ann - the little pain slut". How bold can you be in a Petco?

We'll want to see a picture of it, obviously, and make sure we can read the inscription. Happy shopping!

All About Kissing
I kissed fifty-eight people in two hours at the Kink Carnival last night. That's definitely some kind of record for me. And I'm quite sure I wouldn't care to try and beat it, because I was wiped out afterwards. I'm still a little wiped.

Some of you wrote to me asking why I was in a Kissing Booth, and not, say, a Spanking Booth. Well, there's a bit of history there. Aiden, the extremely cute tranny boy who's one of the Kink Carnival organizers, is an old friend and lover of mine, and he and I did a Kissing Booth one time before, years ago, at a Gay Pride event. (This was when Aiden was still living as female.) We had a good time with it then, so he thought it would be fun for us to do it together again. I agreed, and without really examining the idea too much, I also made the assumption that this would be a somewhat similar experience.

Wrong.

When Max and I arrived, the event was jam-packed - you could hardly move in there. It looked like everyone was having fun, though. We did a loop of all the different booths, talked to some friends, and then I dropped Max off at the Bondage Booth and made my way to the Kissing Booth. And pretty much as soon as I got there, it got busy. I thought, based on my previous experience with Aiden, that it would be slower paced. But it wasn't, it was two hours of non-stop sexual performance, changing partners every two minutes. And yeah, I can do that - but it takes a lot of energy, and I was exhausted afterwards.

Max was quite busy over in the Bondage Booth, too. Several people came up to me with rope on them and said "Look, look, Max tied me up!" It was very cute.

And a lot of the people themselves were very cute. I had several couples who both wanted kisses – that was sweet. There were some sexy boys, some of whom kissed my boots and my latex-pants-covered ass as well as my lips. There were several women who said they hadn't ever kissed another woman before - that was fun. Love to cherry-pop.

And there were some very pretty girls who clearly had kissed other girls before, including a pair of sweet young things who both kissed me so sweetly and passionately that I almost tied them up and took them home with me. Mmmmnn…

But, wow, it was just very intense. I had people waiting in line most of the time, and when they were shutting down the event at 10, people were still hovering around with tickets in their hands, looking at me hopefully. Aiden had to shoo them off. Crazy. It's sort of flattering at some level. But tiring.

We went over to a friend's party afterwards and I got a nice back and neck massage from Malixe, who gives the best massages, and put my head in pretty women's laps, and watched other people do mean things. That was nice.

And today I'm going to go lie on the couch, and later, Roman is going to come over and bring me Chinese food. That's about the extent of what I have planned. Mellow.

Okay, I'll tell. Several of you did guess, or reason it out, correctly. There is just one model - me.

I did this self-portrait by putting two long skinny mirrors into a V-shape, I arranged myself with my feet in the point of the V, I reached out and hit the shutter button (with the ten-second-timer already engaged), and then I arranged my head and arms. There are so many of me because the mirrors are reflecting both the original me and the reflections of me, if that makes sense.
I had no idea exactly what this shot would look like, but I figured it would be interesting. The lights were brighter than I'd wanted, but it kinda worked out okay.
Taken in 2001, I believe, with the Nikon digital.

I think there will be a post later today about the next challenge for The Weakest Kink contestants, and you should check Roman's blog for updates on who we kicked off the island.

But I am planning on spending some quality time at the gym this afternoon, before going and being all sexy tonight - to someone else's financial benefit, for a change. Not only will I be in The Kissing Booth this evening, Max got a last-minute plea to be in The Bondage Booth. All this at The Kinky Carnival - so drop by, get tied up by him and smooched by me, between 8pm-10pm.

Also, for your reading pleasure: The newest column and the Kink Calendar are up...