Aug 012016

Vacation. Just the word alone kinda makes your shoulders relax doesn’t it. For those of us who actually like our work, and are further privileged enough to live some place that is default pretty, the concept of leaving said sweet life for an extended period doesn’t always have the same appeal. For me the exception to this is Hawaii. I love my city and all the surrounding PNW beauty…but I also love swimming. And, well, the waters around here are notably nipplie. The stress and expense of travel (I really do NOT like flying) is a worthy sacrifice to spend some quality time in a less frigid part of the Pacific while frolicking among brightly color fishes.

So away I flew at the beginning of last month to a tropical isle to day drink, drive around looking at lava, commune with assorted sea life, tap into a bit of local culture and lore, and reset my personal comfort levels around public levels of scantily clad-ness and sun exposure. And despite my best intentions, and 6 sessions of pre-bake at a tanning salon, I did manage to burn my ass again. Twice. Including right before flying home. Absolute crying shame that I’m not a masochist as that was a seriously wasted sadistic scene.

This particular trip was with my family. Which means this trip was also totally lacking in sex. No kink. No prostate pillaging. No CBT. And despite their near constant exposure…no sweet sweet foot lovin.

You should feel sad for me. A poor neglected pervert…bereft of playmates…trapped on a tropical isle. I felt like Ginger on Gilligan’s Island, all that sexiness going to waste.

But then I came home. And my vacation did what vacations do for most people. It made my at home life all shiny and new again. And while my “job” is far from conventional, the common convention of a renewed vigor while on the clock has been complimentarily commented on by those lucky enough to book time with me since I’ve been back.

My renewed appetite is far from satisfied however, I still feel like theres a deficit that needs to be filled after that two week absence. So if you’re feeling daring, if you feel like playing with someone who will demand a bit more from you while giving back that and then some…now is a VERY good time to call…

I’m also going to be blogging more, as I’ve missed this too, so bookmark this page if you are so inclined. Seriously, I’m getting back into writing porn again so things won’t just be getting extra sexy in my Playspace but right here in cyberspace.

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Apr 202016

Wanna know where all the sexy people will be this weekend? We’ll be at the Seattle Center Exhibition Hall checking out all the sexy art and all the other sexy people!

“How do I get into “the scene”?” and/or “How do I meet/find other fun kinky people?” is a quandry that comes up for a lot of my clients. This right here is a wonderful, and uniquely accessible, place to get exposed to, and interact with, other pervs. It’s also a fairly low impact (pun intended) place to see some of the fun stuff we like to get up to. Volunteering is always the best way to meet new peeps, but attending has its own perks as you are unlikely to find Seattlites more flirty then at this annual event.

The evenings are where things get fun, and the self description of an art party is apt. Theres booze and DJs, and performances and PNW people actually dressed up…for the ballroom AND the bedroom. And all of it swirling around one of the most unapologetically sexual collections of art you are likely to find anywhere. And really…whats not to like about that???

Feel encouraged to pick up some of that amazing art while you’re there because not only are you sure to find at least one piece that…*ahem*…does something for you…but you’ll be helping out a great organization that does/has done a whole heck of a lot toward making sure this town is sex positive enough to even have an event like this.

The Festival

If you need further encouragement, or perhaps a little extra coddling, you can find descriptions of Erotic Art Fests past by searching for SEAF right here.

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Mar 312016


Took this photo during our last stretch of classic Seattle overcast. You know the type…where you just want to laz around the house and pull your sweetie closer. Not too cold to comfortably get naked…but not too warm to make you sweaty if you decide to put that naked to a purpose.

I appreciate the sunshine and what it does to peoples outlook on life…and libidos…but I will always appreciate how a rainy day encourages folks to get a little closer.

I’ve been feeling super sensuous lately so some of you might have noticed that I’ve added “featherlight touch” to my list of sensation play activities. It’s essentially petting. Not massage, which involves more pressure, this is about teasing and tantalizing you skin and all the lovely nerve endings therein…a type of touch that men’s bodies in particular are often sadly unfamiliar with or underexposed to. Additionally, its been my personal and professional experience that lighter touch, along with other types gentle physical intimacy like snuggling, hugging, and handholding, can be the hardest thing to find outside of (and sometimes even in) a committed romantic partnership.

I think this is why I’m starting to see people setting up shop as “professional cuddlers”, an adorable if some what questionable career choice. But can’t say it isn’t something the world could clearly use more of. As a species, touch is one of the simplest ways that we can be soothed as well as promoting a feeling of connection and groundedness. Also oxytocin, the hormone your body releases when you get pet, is seriously the BEST drug in the world. It will get you super high in the most beautifully relaxing way that also reduces cortisol levels(stress chemicals that do every thing from breaking down cells, to making you more likely to turn any food into fat), lowers blood pressure, and boosts your immune system. Tell me that doesn’t sound brilliant!

I for one start to get seriously twitchy when I’ve gone too long without touch, and that will kick in even before the twitchyness that happens when I’ve gone too long without sex (which is saying something since what I consider sex is a dissertation in and of itself). It’s not dissimilar to the need for food and water. If you have enough water…you can go without food for considerably longer…the opposite…not so much.

While this has always been a big part of my play, as I love touching, caressing, and groping, my playmates, (and then there’s the whole hand fetish thang) I’ve come to recognize that this type sensation play can be fairly fulfilling in of itself. Granted it pairs well with lots of other games that still fall on the softer side of the spectrum. But if you’ve been craving a more gentle, sensual session and/or feeling sorely touch deprived…now would be a good time to call.

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Jan 082016

pop(2)They say what you do on New Years is what you’ll be doing all year. Its why there’s all the smooching. This year I decided to hedge my bets a bit more than that so I choose to make sure that both my midnight celebration as well as the few days before and after were chock full of things I’d happily spend a full year enjoying.

My celebrating began a couple of days before the holiday with a very sexy scene exclusively devoted to torturing (or “torturing”, depending on how you look at it) an exceedingly lucky and adventurous boy’s dick. I enjoy a wide spectrum of activities and my gig supplies me ample opportunity to explore most of them. But a few are considerably more infrequent. And actually the last few weeks have supplied some truly choice unusual entertainments. But I digress…said helpless victim had given me a heads up before our playdate since his interests were specific and more extreme. And was further able to convince me of his sincerity by providing a link to his Fetife profile so I could verify he wasn’t just talking smack and teasing a sadist with a promise of pain he couldn’t endure.

I frequently feel the need to point out to non masochist, as well as the lucky folks who do have this identity, that true masochism is more rare than most people think. Most pervs enjoy playing around with the happy wiggle room that occurs during arousal, while others get a boost in their pain threshold by getting off on knowing their partner is getting off. Actual masochists have the intrinsic ability to move pain into pleasure. But as with most gifts, more can be achieved through exercising said skill set. This particular boy had been working on his kink for awhile but we were both pleased to be able to take things to even greater heights then previously reached.

Twenty Six needles and a couple of urethral sounds later and his dick was a bloody, pillaged mess. And the photos he requested came out great. It was a fun day.

The next night I was having dinner with a dear old friend and told her about the scene and it turns out she’d just done an awesome dick piercing scene the day before too. So we both pulled out our phones to show off our handiwork. Clearly I hang with the right type of people.

If you’re curious about the photos, and don’t have a weak stomach, you can see some of the images yourself on my Fetlife profile under Ms_Katherine. It’s a free members only site, but signing up is easy and very worthwhile.

The next night I was having dinner with a dear old friend and told her about the scene and it turns out she’d just done an awesome dick piercing scene the day before too. So we both pulled out our phones to show of our handiwork. Clearly I hang with the right type of people.

The 31st found me at a house party full of pretty, friendly people with my primary partner. Attendees were a fair representative sample of the sex-positive, poly, kink, tantra, and Burningman communities and all the inescapable overlap that you find in those scenes in Seattle. I’ve attended some lovely gatherings there previously and they’ve typically been friskier, but this time things were more family friendly…so people didn’t start taking their tops of until after the clock struck twelve. It was an perfect outing in that I smooched my man at midnight, got face time with a few friends and even managed a bit of flirting with a charming woman that could lead to potential shenanigans in the future. Too soon to tell but it was a welcome, if unexpected, intrigue.

Maybe it was that unexpected ego stroke that contributed to what happened when my man and I got back to my place…maybe it was just my general randiness and a sensitivity to the afore mentioned superstition of the evening but 2am and tipsiness was not enough to keep me from tormenting the beejebus out of my man’s cock and balls before marching him into the bathroom, straddling his chest in the bathtub, and pulling his greedy slut face into my cunt by his hair to flood his mouth with a gushing torrent of my vodka fueled piss. Then I shoved my butt in his face and made him come while I used the shower massager on his ass.

The next morning we had french toast and bacon. So its already a very happy New Year as far as I’m concerned.

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Sep 132013

How often do you masturbate?

Seems like a simple enough question for a sexually mature adult to answer. But I wouldn’t be shocked to know that many of you reading that experienced a moment of embarrassment, however brief, just as I know that the first thought some of you had reading that question was a number, possibly followed by some sexy visuals. What ever your response, you’d be justified in it. While masturbating is one of the most natural and prolific sexual experiences we get to enjoy, it is still loaded with the most shame, awkwardness and judgement by society. Concerns over getting caught, being viewed as creepy/slutty, being told that those sensations should be saved for sex with a partner (ideally a committed monogamous one), is all the verbally reinforced packaging for a great big “gift” of sex negativity. And they’re just some of the excuses people will use, along with lack of time, opportunity, or physical capacity, to keep their hands off themselves.

Well I’m here to tell ya, in case you are one of the folks who hasn’t figured this out yet, that its all BULLSHIT!

Got kids, worried about them seeing mommy or daddy wanking…if they’re little ‘uns, you’ll probably need to wait till they pass out or nap, then a chair under the door does the trick. Old enough for the personal space/privacy talk – put a lock on the bathroom door. Seriously, this won’t just be useful for you, it will be useful for them when they want a guaranteed privacy place to wank as well. And if they’re in their teens or older if they still haven’t learned the lesson to knock AND wait for permission to enter, catching a parent naked or “indisposed” will make sure they move forward into adulthood with at least that one basic skill firmly set in stone.

Worried about being seen as a wanker or nympho. Don’t…just don’t. While it is possible to overdo anything, I promise you that masturbating, even multiple times a day, does not mean there is anything wrong with you. If you’re diddling yourself so much that you aren’t able to take care of your other responsibilities or you start making high risk choices like masturbating in public places where non-consenting folks might see you, then by all means check yourself before you wreck yourself. But anyone who is gonna be weirded out by your regularly taking care a business, well they ultimately just did you a favor. I always prefer when folks let me know up front just how very hung up they are about sex…helps to make sure I NEVER end up in a naked games situation with them.

And as for that “save it for your partner” shenanigans, disqualifying any crazy religious propaganda around purity (because of the dumb), you’re actually doing your partner a great service by wanking it. Being an adult and acknowledging that perfect libido pairing through-out a partnership is just as much a fairy tale as Cinderella. Even the most compatible of couples will hit those dry times of conflicting schedules, hormones, and health. Masturbation is what helps us stick with each other even when we don’t have time to get sticky on each other. Cause when we do handle things ourselves not only are we more relaxed, less stressed, well-rested we’re also not walking around with a big groin based time bomb of resentment and sexual need that doesn’t necessarily connect to intimacy.

I almost always ask my clients how often they masturbate. It is the perfect pop quiz to test how their sexual health is doing. And while a follow up question of how often they are having partnered sex, is also useful, its not nearly as telling. Frequency in both categories, or either really, is usually good news. But far too often people report that not only are they not getting laid, they’re not fucking themselves either. I don’t think that’s a coincidence and that lack of self love is a major contributor to the sad predictable decline of not just sex, but any physical intimacy, in long term relationships.

There seems to be this myth that love, sex, friendship, are all some sort of precious, limited resources. But as someone who can claim a bushel full of all of those I can bear witness to the fact that they are all very renewable. And in the case of sex, I’d like to offer a recent personal experiment to plead my case…

Coming home from a very socially stimulating, and somewhat stressful, wedding weekend (no, not my own) I found myself feeling even hornier than usual. Possibly fueled by the accomplishment of a task that I’d been intimated by (I officiated the ceremony) or the immense amount of awesome non-sexual physical contact to be found at a large gathering of touchy feely friends. What ever got the ball rolling, upon returning home, in the interest of science (Science, I say!!!) I decided to see what would happen if I amped things up, instead of just waiting for an already planned date with my primary partner the following night to scratch that itch.

So I downloaded a bunch of pornographic images from the internet, made a file out of them, and set them as the screen saver on my computer on a 5 second slideshow format.

I spend a lot of time on my computer.

No really, a lot.

Just the process of finding all the images, given that I have very specific taste in porn…okay, I know you’re wondering so here’s an example…


My day to day is what most people wank thinking about. When that’s your default reality, it ups the ante on what you need for fantasy fodder.

Anyhoo, just finding all that porn was enough to inspire an all night wank-a-thon. But it didn’t stop there. I woke up the next morning and buzzed myself off again. Sitting at the computer, watching all those sexy images inspired me to send an inappropriate-work-boner, inducing text to my date, which led to more sexting. Which led to another wank. Far from depleting my sexual stock it just meant I was that much more ready to go when he got here since I’d essentially been fluffing myself for 24hours. But there was no sense of, “Aw yeah now for the “real” stuff”. All that wanking had been just as fulfilling, it was simply another side to my sexuality, the sexuality I have with myself. And when he was here I wasn’t thinking about molesty amphibian monsters, I was thinking about him, his lovely body, his sexual needs and our shared sexual experience. All of that so much easier to do since I wasn’t a big ball of pent up, with too much of an orgasmic backlog to prioritize anything more than my own pleasure.

And the week continued…as did the wanking. In addition to making the partnered sex and playtime that I had that much more intense, inspired and generally awesome it’s had other great side effects. I’ve been sleeping really well, I’ve been more inspired to work-out (and admittedly do yoga as the bod got a bit cranky after the first couple days of increased activity), eat healthier, and everything has just felt more dealable.

After about a week, the constant back drop of porn, as lovely as it is, stopped being quite as distracting. I’ve mostly returned to my daily dose of diddle. And my libido seems to have stabilized again. It is no longer ready to sex all of Seattle, just a few select specimens. But my little test served its purpose. Its always nice to know that with a bit of extra attention and energy, voraciousness lies within. And to remind myself of the interconnectedness of physical and mental health with sexual happiness, the power over which, is always in my hands.

I’m so not done with this topic, as this is a subject I feel very strongly about and I have much more to say regarding it. But I’m gonna sign off on it for tonight.

I will say that I sincerely hope it has inspired you to experiment with the limits of your own libido.

For to quote Mae West…”Too much of a good thing…can be wonderful.”


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Aug 192013

I’ve always liked to think of myself as a bit of a MacGyver when it comes to playtime. Theory being that left to my own devices, or with what is just conventionally on hand, I could still facilitate a very satisfying and creative BDSM scene. In a pinch, pun intended, I really don’t need anything more than my own sweetly dangerous bod and wicked imagination to come up with a scene that will rock my playmate’s world.

Often enough, when I look back, its the things I did with my hands, the press of my body, and those well chosen whispered words which seem to be the stand out moments for me. I know that a big part of this is that I’m an energy junkie with a pretty major hand fetish so activities that bring me into close contact with flesh…mmmmm…aw yeah…that’s what I’m talkin about.

But despite my predilections for low maintenance, hands-on, power dynamic focused play I do seem to have acquired, and learned to appreciate the benefits of, a fairly ridiculous toy collection. 

While doing one of my regular clean and purges of my play space today, I thought it’d be fun to go over just how much freakin gear I have. Added bonus – the next time someone wants to play twenty questions about my toy box, or cares to doubt just how fully equipped I am, I can just send them to this blog post. Ta Dah!

Without further ado, some of the larger pieces of my considerable collection:


Nice solid wood spanking horse with padded adjustable rails. Next to it is The Tower of Ow, aka, where I hang most of the things I use to hit people with. Slappers and floggers of rubber and hard and soft leather. Paddles of rubber, plastic, leather and wood. A couple of dragon tail whips. A Scott Paul Big Daddy aluminum and rubber bat. Next to the Tower is a vase for hitting toys that don’t hang as well: canes, ridiculous feather ticklers, riding crops, a wonderfully evil electric device, and this weird rubber ended flicker thing that I have yet to use as it is stingy and awkward to wield. 

ImageThe revealingly named CBT (cock and ball “torture”) chair. Sometimes called a bondage chair…but why would you tie someone to it if you weren’t planing to do naughty things to their naughty bits. Anyhoo, also adjustable with a padded seat…because pain should always be intentional not incidental. To the right of it is a small leather stool which is great for OTK (over the knee) spankings and for submissives with bad knees who can’t manage kneeling. To the left, leaning against the wall is a couple of large wooden paddles, a rubber wrapped spreader bar, and a stockade. The trunk holds my cuffs and the rope that isn’t already strategically placed on the bed. This is what that stuff looks like when I take it out of the trunk…

ImageSee! All that’s missing is you…

Pictured is wrist, ankle and thigh cuffs, the spreader bar and a chest harness. And just to create the perfect tableau – blindfold, ball gag, collar and leash, inflatable butt plug and chastity device. 

What? This isn’t how you spend your Sunday afternoons?

Despite having the other furniture, I do most of my tying up (and play in general) on what, I think at least, is one of the more beautiful and non-obvious bondage beds. In addition to being sturdy enough for standard 4, or 6, point restraint it also works as an excellent standing rack. The foot board is at just the right height to use as a hard point to secure boy bits to or to provide an object to lean on that doesn’t keep anything out of reach. And the cross beams of the canopy are strong enough to do partial suspensions from as well as providing a hand hold for me when I want to do a little trampling. And its pretty…see…

ImageThen…there’s the rest of the toys. I like to keep things on hand and grabable instead of having to constantly scramble through drawers and bins. I’d much rather focus on my playmate than play another round of Where’s Waldo for the perfect pair of nipple clamps. And having everything out encourages me to use my toys…so they don’t get all sad and lonely from neglect. I just keep the counter, and all its assorted accruements, covered when I’m not actively molesting someone.


Would you look at that…I mean really…how the hell did this happen??? Ya start off with a couple of clamps, a couple of cocks…and before you know it you’ve got half the stock of a sex toy shop. This my friends, is one of the dangers of going pro…one of the others is becoming way too spoiled by getting to play with a large variety of kinks and a higher than usual number of adorable newbies. 

So there is WAY too much going on in that photo to cover it as is, and because I think this might be the most fun and informative part of our journey I’m gonna break it into two parts.

Part one = mostly nice things that look kinda like penis for people with, and without penises, of their own.

Part Two = mostly things meant to tease, torture or otherwise traumatize…penis…but also some other body parts and so they can be amusing whether you’re an iny, an outy, or somewhere inbetween.


Here we go…from right to left, frontish row first: vibrating anal probe; striped double headed dildo; doubled headed glass dildo; lime green vibrator; red and black dildo; small orange butt plug; small purple butt toy; Nexus – large double headed purple dildo; blue swizzle butt toy: pale pink butt plug w/optional vibe; purple and white glass prostate massager(the part facing you is the large round handle and does not go in your butt); pink vibe w/disco lights (no, I’m not making that up); the infamous Aneros prostate toy (the weird white thing); two different size, blue P spot/G spot attachments for the Hitachi Magic Wand “back massager” (not pictured…hiding under the bed); small metal butt plug.
Back row, from right to left: double headed dildo gag: smaller one sided dildo gag; leopard print lipstick vibe; HUUUUUGE flesh colored dildo (It’s called Hung. Not making that up either. And yes, I have seen someone take it); more reasonable sized flesh colored dildo; black dildo (this one is “my” cock); purple curved dildo (this one, the smaller AND the larger flesh colored dildos are meant to be used on this not  pictured but present device: ); lastly there is what I like to call the licorice christmas tree…it is the butt toy I use to threaten bad little boys who don’t behave. There’s also an inflatable butt plug, some nipple clamps, a standard, and a thigh, strap on harness hanging above this splendid dick buffet.

While we’re here, I’d like to take the time to remind any curious readers that despite the bounty of boy (and girl) fun you can see here…if you email or call me requesting strap-on play or a “strap on session” (or anything else that could be construed as “sexual explicit”)…this picture is, unfortunately, as close to any of my dandy dicks as you will ever get. If this needs clarification, please read what I have to say at the top of this page on my website:

SO…hopefully you’re amped up enough by the pictured promise of prostate pillaging that the next products won’t dishearten you too much. Always remember, just like most boys and girls will never play with Huge Hung in one of my scenes…there’s plenty o’ things on this counter that are only for very specially twisted individuals and are NOT the type thing I’m likely to inflict on the inexperienced and/or the unwilling.


From left to right, front-ish row first: soft fuzzy rabbit mitt; Elastor castration device; Bonger massage tool; metal genital clamp; upgraded Wartenburg wheel; standard Wartenberg wheel; lube shooter; metal nipple clamp sticks; medical clamp scissors; Cobra Stinger electric toy; pink wand vibrator; small pink and white vibe; clear plastic male chastity device w/lock and optional spike insets; 3 ringed metal cock ring; leather ball stretcher; magnetic ball cock ring; plastic electrode adaptive cock ring; four metal ball stretching weights; metal claw; adjustable penis straps for electro stim; Digital Power Box (for PSG electric play).
Back row: rubber bondage tape; penis pump(half hiding in a candle holder); roll of plastic wrap for mummification; red roll of classic bondage tape; set of S curve medical sounds; couple of packs of play piercing needles (I have many more…just ask); acrylic and metal Rocket strap-on for electro play; acrylic and metal plug for electro play; black leather bag of sand also for ball stretching; red wax play candle; black not-for-sex-play candle; bunch of wooden clothes pins; Tower of Pain nipple torture device (sitting on the red container full of clothes pins. You can see it a bit better in Part One).

Some other things not pictured: Full sized steel suspension/bondage frame; extensive violet wand set; electric fly swatter; Go Girl pee funnel; plastic bat; cattle prod; fucking machine (I call him Mr Roboto); bunch more rope; Liberator Ramp sex pillow; full cross dressing/feminization wardrobe including lingerie, dresses, shoes, breast forms, wigs, and make-up.

There’s probably more, things I use so rarely they didn’t even make it on here…or that I use so often it didn’t even occur to me. Though this should give you an idea of what I mean when I say I am a reluctant gear whore…but I am, obviously, geared up none the less.

Stay tuned next week for some sexy product reviews, a bit of a rant about wank shaming, and, hopefully, a report from INTERSECTIONS – Social Outreach Seattle’s next meeting.

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Aug 092013

A little while back I got an email from a young man who wanted to see me. Nothing too out of the norm there. It was just how very young he was that gave me pause.

As I get older myself seeing anyone under thirty has started to feel more than a bit like Mrs Robinson.

Why yes, I am trying to seduce you.


“Why yes, you silly young thing, of course I’m trying to seduce you.”

But sometimes recognizing how many men, of all ages, have the fantasy of being seduced by the more experienced, confident and worldly older woman makes it seem like a no brainer, especially for someone interested in exploring their submissiveness.

Add to that my own early explorations with men who were much older than me, a fetish that continues to this day, and a certain quid pro quo comes into play as well.

But even my capacity to porn up a situation and/or play into some karmic “pay it forward”ness felt a bit stretched when considering whether or not I should see this notably young man.

So very glad I overcame my own agist tendencies and trusted in his ability to know what he was getting himself into…in so much as any of my playmates ever truly understands the lasting effects of a fantasy becoming reality experience.

Here are some very sweet words from a very sweet boy regarding a memorable moment for us both:

“After I processed our appointment, I wrote this as a journal entry:

I went to a professional dominatrix.

Even saying that seems odd to me. I don’t know that many people in the community. In fact, in practice, I am completely new. I worry, does that reflect poorly on me? That I went and paid someone to do something I should have done the work to build with someone else? I worry that maybe I may seem a pretender to veterans of the community, someone who took a shortcut. But I don’t want to lie. I did it, and it was an overwhelmingly positive experience.

I think it may have been something I needed. Before Sunday, I did not think I was handsome. I did not think I was a catch. I let my insecurity trap me in a relationship that was not good for me before, something I should have felt was less than I deserved. I feel confident. I have something to offer. I am a good guy, I really am, and I shouldn’t have to parse and cower and bend myself to be someones ideal partner when I am ideal for myself already. I always read about being who you are in a relationship, but I don’t think I knew what it meant before.

Never before have I met someone so wise. I have always considered myself smart and a bit worldly, but I had nothing on her. She understood people inside and out, and saw right through my intellectual bluster to see how truly young I really am. And she was protective. She talked at great length about the community I am now a part of, and of my worth in it. She talked of safety, both physical and emotional. She talked of communication. She talked of the bravery it takes to find someone else to play with.

And the scene, something I had never experienced with another person right there, was beyond incredible. My submissiveness was so very confirmed. It is a part of me, and it felt so right. And I am GOOD at it. I have self control, I have an open mind, I have discipline and I have endless amounts of affection to give. She showed me that I need to place value in my submission, and that it is the dominant who should prove that they are worthy of it.

And even then it was educational. She helped me understand my body, and how it reacts, how things feel. In the vast sea of kinkiness, I now have a flag I can plant, giving me my bearings. I have a better understanding of what I really need in a scene, and what I could actually go without.

Because that was what she was to me, a teacher and a guardian. She was no fake. She was authentic and experienced and definitely a proud member of the community. I think she wanted to help me avoid the awful mistakes many new members make, help me find my happiness.

So yes, maybe I did cheat a little and cut ahead. I learned the power of consent. I learned the bravery of submission. I learned my value. I feel more ready for the world than I ever have, so judge not. I am ready to play.


You gave me confidence I didn’t know I had, and showed me my value. Thank you so much. You are an incredible woman.”


I may have started off this encounter feeling like a chicken hawk. But after receiving this lovely email I felt as warm and fluffy as…

WArm and fluffy

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Sep 182012

Today held a couple of lovely examples of why I do what I do. It’s difficult not to think of the two individuals involved as some how connected, though complete strangers who will likely never meet. And even if they somehow, in a typical small world way, were to meet, it is equally unlikely that either of them would be able to recognize the traits that connect them. The sheer number of interactions, not all brief or shallow, these two people could share and never see their sameness.

But we are, after all, a society that does not make it easy to be out and unapologetic about being a kinky little slut.

Oh, and in case your mind just tried to jump to any number of scantily clad rockstars to contradict that last statement…if you think they don’t have to walk barefoot across broken glass on a regular bases to manifest un-wavering fabulous, 24/7 you’re kidding yourself.

But people do it.

And that’s why I do what I do. Average everyday people take the risk of making themselves a target by being out, by being unapologetic…by being brave. And it starts with a simple thought.

I have a right to be happy.

So there’s a new playmate who’s been trying to book with me for awhile. Granted, sometimes the planets take awhile to align. Otherwise known as the scheduling dance. But that’s not really whats going on here. To his credit, he’s at least been honest.

He’s a little scared.

I’m always so torn by that. Part of me recognizes that – Jesus I bet! This can be quite the step into the abyss. Conversely, I know me, and I am NOT that scary. This isn’t skydiving…you are unlikely to die from seeing a Pro Domme.

Despite the latter and in keeping with the former…I’ve seen people so nervous they’re shaking when they arrive, so scared they can’t make eye contact. I’ve seen people so stressed out that the moment that it sinks in, they are safe here, they start crying.

But in the face of their fear, they still showed up. Which is awesome! Human beings can be almost impressive in our ability to self sabotage, to keep ourselves from what we know, deep down, will make us happy. One very effective way of doing that is to alienate the very same sexy dominant that you’ve been fantasizing about seeing for years by NOT showing up for your appointment. If folks show up and try to put up barriers between themselves and their happiness, THAT, I can do something about. But without that first step, that first risk, that first appointment…nothing I can do to help.

So I hope this new playmate shows up. I know he’ll be happy if he does.

I know this for a number of reasons but also because of the playmate I saw today. A sweet, gentle, man who was actually brave enough to tell his partner that he was kinky before they got married. And she was cool with it. Then at some point a few years in, his kinkyness was no longer okay. Not okay for her, so not okay period. And in the classic boiling a frog metaphor of most abusive relationships, things went from bad to worse over a period of many years. Years of his self-medicating with solo-play in the face of open hostility and verbal abuse.

Until recently.

When he remembered he had a right to be happy. A partner who vilifies your sexuality is never going to let you be happy. I am not the reason he is taken the monumental step of leaving an abusive relationship. I merely helped him to see himself as he was meant to be. And he remembered.

This is the risk people take when they come to see me. But I’m not what people are actually scared of. What they are scared of is being happy…while being kinky. When its no longer a question of “Am I really?” and is inescapably “I really am.”. The cost of that knowledge is either change or denial. Change your life and chase your bliss. Or deny the knowledge of where your bliss lies, repress it, distort it, or feed it just enough to keep it quiet…until it needs to be fed again.

So actually, change wins out in any event. And that’s the risk you take. You will not walk out as the same person you were when you walked in. And that’s true whether its your first experience or your fiftieth.

But take that risk anyway

because its worth it

because you

have a right

to be happy.


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Sep 172012

After months of serious procrastination I FINALLY got around to doing my website house cleaning. There wasn’t much major work that need to be done, some grammatical issues, one or two spelling errors, a few dead links. I did need to add the lovely Miss Audrey to my site as a potential playmate for duos. So all told, coding learning curve aside, I should have been done in an hour. Alas, WHY I put off such tasks is that things never seem to work out that way.

I didn’t even hit any problems this time, like when my entire site crashed in the midst of a simple cut and paste edit. Luckily my site designer and coding genius was on hand to spot and fix the problem. Apparently you aren’t supposed to capitalize letters in html. Good to know.

No the problem is much more insidious. Any writer knows the danger of picking up an old piece of work…you can’t not start to tweak it and before you know it, its four in the morning. But…it’s DONE…for now. And having gotten on a creative kick with all that re-writting I’ve returned to my poor, much neglected, blog. Doesn’t hurt that one of the fixes was linking to my blogs shiny new home (kiss my butt, Livejournal!).

So in the interest of new stuff here’s a couple bits of random. First up a letter:


You, madam, are fabulous :) I absolutely love the work you’ve put into your website, the humor you’ve injected, the intelligence that winds its way through every paragraph. Well done!

I’m just getting into the pro domme scene and have a question for you, if you’ve the time. Your FAQ page states”I am not a trained therapist or a licensed counselor(yet)” (sic) – should I take that to mean you’re studying psychology? If so, could you refer me to a good book (or many)? I’m looking to learn more about sexual psychology but also just general stuff. Brains are fabulously fascinating :) I’ve also found that near every one of my subs, past and present, uses our process (either directly or indirectly) as a way to sort through brain-noise and have fabulous life transformations. That in mind, I’ll be going at this from a life-coaching perspective, so I want to be fully prepared for anything that comes my way. Time to study!”

And my reply:
“Thanks for the interest and admiration. The “not yet” comment refers to my plan to go back to school to get a counseling degree and my optimistic hope that one day the therapeutic benefits of my current profession will be recognized by the larger medical establishment.

So a lot of my training is from on-the-job work, years of industry experience can’t help but show you patterns of behavior with regard to the motivations, triggers and fears that most clients have around kink, interpersonal relationships and their bodies. But a surprising amount of it comes from my BA in theater which I self-deprecatiingly refer to as “a psyche degree for narcissists”.

As far as reading lists, everything that deals with kink/sex, even if its bad (like 50 Shades of Grey), even if its just supposed to turn you on (like erotica/porn), can give you insight into how people come to and process what does, and doesn’t, get them hot. Both fiction and non-fiction have things to offer.But here are some books that I’ve found extremely useful over the years:

Real Live Nude Girl and The Leather Daddy and the Femme both by Carol Queen
Pretty much anything by Susie Bright
>Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald
Sex at Dawn by Christopher Ryan, Ph.D and Cacilda Jethá, MD
Bonk by Mary Roach
When Someone You Love is Kinky by Dossie EAston and Catherine A. Liszt
Most things by Carl Jung (a million times more holistic minded than Freud at addressing sexual motivations, IMO) and Joseph Campbell, especially The Hero with a Thousands Faces (great stuff on ritual, patterns and paths). And an at least general understanding of most major religions because wether someone is a recovering catholic or a practicing Hindu, religion has an effect on the vast majority of people’s feelings about sex.

Lastly, read stuff by other sex workers, blogs, books, essays, articles it all can offer insight.

Lastly, if you aren’t active in the kink community…become so. Getting to know a wide sampling of folks who are at least okay enough with their kink to attend public events isn’t just a useful tool when interacting with clients who have yet to (or aren’t able to) do so, it will also be necessary so you can give them real world examples of what is out there for them if they were to pursue a more holistic, open lifestyle with regard to their sexuality.

Hope this helps”

And I like to end with a joke…and this time I’ll use someone else’s…this is a great on-line comic but its rarely safe for work. This particular strip does not include boobs.

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May 282012

Okay..just got here and still doinking around with how things look. Next big step is moving all my old content from Livejournal. Please bear with me…

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