Letters and Snark
I get a lot of unsolicited offers to be my slave, and most of them are about as eye-rolling as you'd expect. Anyone who sends me letters like that has clearly not troubled themselves to learn much about me.

(Most eyestrain-inducing? Emails asking to be my slave that are copied to a bunch of other mistresses. Because that's how you make a woman feel special, yeah.)

This one was a bit more creative - which is not always a good thing. First of all, it was a font so curly that I couldn't read it at first. And it was formatted this way, with the center-alignment.

So, without further ado... Complete and unedited letter of the day.

I am a slave woman of Paris.
I will be in USA for vacation of six months.
I look for Mistress or BDSM club for mine total training of Pain culture.
I also have to be available to be taken back in photo and video
I think to be your interest to have a woman of Paris as me I am.
Can you help me ?
with devotion
chienne

I am a Mistress woman of Seattle.
Six months of vacation? Incomprehensible to Mistress woman.
For Parisian, six months of US food, fashion, and art equals total training in Pain-ful Culture.
Sorry, for photo and video, must ask Mistress woman of Japan.
I think to be baffled by your English, and I also have to be mock you, since Parisians have to be mock Americans as me who can’t speak French as I am.
With confusion
Mistress

It's Wednesday, and it's a new podcast!

Monk starts off with a letter from a busty sex worker asking how to handle phone calls from men curious about her exact bra size. I’m embarrassed to say that the word “motorboat” is mentioned. I also talk about my oft-repeated bit of sex work advice, “Don’t say anything you wouldn’t want read out loud in court.”

Then we hear from a reader who thinks that only male dominants (not female ones) get teased, or harshly critiqued. I laugh for a while, and then I explain how that’s not true. Although I do offer an admittedly harsh critique about people who say “dom-may”.

About 12 minutes, not work safe.

A few more pictures from New Years Eve.

One of Puck and I in our party dresses. (Forgive the clumsy crop. My utterly amazing party-assistant, K, is in the original photo, and my photo editing skills are rudimentary.)

Note the fabulous shoes.

We seem to have a party tradition of stuffing more bodies into the various cages we own than they were really designed to hold. Cages aren't a significant fetish of mine - although they are a useful thing, on occasion. And if you have a cage and want to get people into it, throw a party.

This particular cage is a tight fit for one smallish person. With two, things get very friendly.

A slightly different angle.

And, a bird's eye view. Lovely scenery!