Of Bully Bags and Bitches
I’m on my final week of ‘vacation’ in the northeast. Wrapping up some serious dental work which took longer than expected, giving peter his last opportunity with me, and visiting with my M&M friend. I had planned for one week, it’s now been three. I’ve enjoyed myself. Particularly now that my smile is back to normal; I’d broken a tooth last year and been struggling to find funds to have it repaired. It had really begun to affect my self esteem, which is generally pretty well placed. Between the dentist and the literally hundreds of men who’ve practically chased me down the streets as I wander town here, it’s safely back in excellent territory for the first time in a long while.
I’ve had some good conversations with peter. Rather, revealing, not necessarily good in the traditional sense. Seems he thinks the word ‘bitch’ is synonymous with ‘jackass’. So when he says he can’t help being a bitch- something he says often, he means he can’t help being an ass. Wrong. I hope I get the opportunity to teach him just how wrong…and yes, if I do, you’ll hear all about it. Years ago when we first met, I voiced thoughts that his assenine behavior might be his way of trying to garner dominant attention to a well respected publicly blogging submissive at that time. Who promptly tok the opportunity to try to be demeaning when he told me I was mistaken and that many dominants make this mistake. Because I”m not submissive or masochistic in any way, and still sometimes find the behavior of those who are confounding, I had to take his word for it and look for other answers. Which I have been doing for a very long time, looking for some deeper, more complex answers to why he acts like such an ass with me but then can’t seem to stay away from what I have to offer, either. As it turns out, I was right after all. Mistaken indeed.
Meanwhile my M&M has been his wonderful self, and having such an extended time to spend together has led to a deeper friendship and many more personal sharings and revelations that we’ve shared in the past. He’s revealed some dominant fantasies, and we’ve talked more about the attraction that dominance holds for me. And I’ve made really clear that none of those fantasies will be lived out with me on the receiving end, thankfully he’s been receptive and understanding. But I felt badly, since I know I am the only opportunity for sexual contact he has, or has had, in a long time. Until, that is, he appeared at the apartment (where he stays for work and where I am staying to reduce travel costs) with an impish grin saying he had the perfect gift for me. He pulled from his backpack an interesting looking container and handed it to me, saying he thought it was the one thing a Domme just should never be without…
Bull scrotum bag
So, if you’re unsure… YES, it’s a ‘bag’ made from a ’sac’. A bull’s scrotum, tanned into a hardened leather, hair intact, and strung up to make a lovely container, to be precise. I am still deciding what goes in it, but I am thinking possibly the tiny clothespins. M&M was right. No Domme should be without a bag made of balls. He didn’t know how extra appropriate it was that it’s made from a BULL’S sac, because we haven’t really discussed cuckoldry much. But it sure made MY day.
Speaking of bitches/asses, I went on some dates early in my trip with local gentlemen. One was mentioned a few posts ago. The other one went far better, at least at first. We met for lunch after making plans to do so for two days that I had to cancel due to my dental work. So when I asked the last time I canceled if he wanted to meet the next day, same time, I wasn’t expecting him to accept, but he did. I undertook the hour long trek across town to an area nowhere near a public transit stop, while still managing to keep my hair and makeup intact, texting him to confirm about ten minutes before we were to meet. He responded that he’d be a few hours, we’d have to make it a late lunch. I let him know I was already at the restaurant and am not in the habit of waiting around for tardy dates; and he seemed genuinely to think we had miscommunicated, so I gave him a second chance. We met about an hour later and had a wonderful lunch, and then spent the next 10 (!) hours talking non-stop. It was refreshing, he was definitely more of a gentleman than my previous date, and I was looking forward to another when he asked. So earlier this week he texted before lunch to ask my plans. I told him I”d love to meet in a part of town I had to get to for an errand in the next few hours, and he agreed- we planned to text each other when in the area, shortly. I went, ran my errands, walked around a bit, and finally around 4 pm texted him to say I was going to find some lunch on my own. He said he’d love to try and meet me after that, and I let him know I had evening plans with someone else but I could postpone them a bit to meet up with him, and we planned again for him to text me once he got to the neighborhood where I was. I didn’t count on it, and good thing I didn’t. Around 8 I met my dinner date, M&M. And finally got that text from the other guy around nine. Nine hours after our original plans to meet. I politely declined and gave a subtle brush off response. He didn’t get it, and continued to text throughout the night/morning hours, and all day yesterday, despite my lack of response. After telling him today that every one of the rest of my vacation days were booked with plans from people I had no doubt would keep them, he responded with surprise, as if he thought I was just waiting on call for a date with him.
Guh. Bitches. Can’t live with em…. Can’t cut off their balls and make a nice handbag.
KY His and Hers … WTF?
So I ‘m visiting my vanilla submissive who thinks what I am into is called M&M. He’s a good friend and we’ve known each other over a decade, I sometimes go visit him for a break from real life. I wish that (a) he weren’t married and (b) I had ANY physical attraction to him at all, because he is quite simply THE nicest, most attentive man in the world. In my past discussions about him I’ve shared that he was one of my first escorting clients, and that when I left the business, he mentored and supported me in my new business ventures- and still does. And, in return, I still treat him to my extra special companionship.
My m&m isn’t into many kinks or fetishes. Toys and lingerie are not really his thing. He keeps it short and simple. So when he told me he had a new fun thing to try this time, I was intrigued. He proudly presented me with a package of the new KY Yours and Mine lube, the commercials for which state when the two come together they create a grand experience, and tout increased sensation for the lady.
What they fail to mention is what SORT of increased sensation. Which was basically, just the same as if I had crammed a whole jar of mentholatum up my hoo-ha. It was definitely a sensation. But definitely not a good one. Another reviewer says it’s like sledding down a snowy mountain with your pants off, and I’d have to agree. Fact is, that no matter what mental gymnastics I perform, I can’t make that feel sexy. The active ingredient is mint…what the hell? I couldn’t focus on a thing except the extreme cold tingles emanating from my crotch. And my giggling wasn’t so good for my m&m’s ego.
If you’ve ever put Icy Hot on your body and gotten it into a mucous membrane area (nose, lips, etc), and then tried to use water to wash it off, you understand what I got to experience NEXT when I hopped up and ran to the bathroom for a warm washcloth. It was wrong. So. Wrong.
As for m&m’s experience, he said he didn’t feel anything special on his own, and he did get a bit of the icy cool tingles when we ‘came together’. I’ve read that other men had the effect of a tiny bit of desensitization and warmth. While delaying some men’s orgasm is an admirable goal, it wasn’t what I wanted this time, and it would be nice if the packaging mentioned anything about it. Or about the minty-muff situation. But it didn’t.
So in all, my advice is NO. Just No. If you want the sensation of a York Mint Patty between your legs, go for it. You could take the cheaper route and stick an Altoids up there. But don’t expect to be able to orgasm.
(Cutout) Man versus…
I’m admittedly also a freak when it comes to my television habits. When I’m not watching Charlie Rose, Sunday morning political shows, (of course) the Daily Show and the Colbert Report, and an endless stream of news channels I watch Axe Men, Ice Road Truckers, Battlestar Galactica, Man vs. Wild. I also watch a hella lot of shows about the universe, stars, biology, space, ufos, and pretty much anything on PBS, but none of those things offer many opportunities for cut-outs I can beat.
So, I didn’t get to it yesterday. What can I say. I’m working. But I did manage to find a nakee picture of Bear Grylls, and turn it into a paper proxy, which I happily share with you. That boy deserves to be downloaded and used …USED… for making up (or letting someone else make up) such an cheesy beefcake stage name and not using it in porn. And, he’s also pretty adorable. I can’t watch the show and not want to mark up that ass. Pretty sure this is as close as I’m gonna get.
Download. Print. Clip. Beat.
I included handy-dandy fold-n-stand tabs on this cutout. Tape the ends together after folding, to create a triangle, and he could very easily be placed face down for, well…whatever…while still staying fairly stable. Enough to beat with a rubber band, or paper clip things to his ass, anyway.
Photo thanks to FreshHotness.net – one of my favorite places to look at pretty gay boys.
Hooray Pervertables!
So I mentioned that I’d found a fabulous pervertable belt/lead recently, and I thought I’d show it and some of my other pervertables off. It was just what I was looking for. I’m a feminine girl, and I like pretty, shiny things. I’d once seen a rhinestone leash in a diamond ad with a beautiful woman walking her pet cougar, who easily looked like a well muscled slave crawling before her on a glamorous lead. Ever since I’d been on the lookout for one. Last weekend my mom and I were doing girlie shopping, and she was in a generous mood, prodding me to buy whatever I wanted. I’d had a hard time finding something I wanted that I felt comfortable asking her to pay for, and we’d been shopping all day. We popped into my default clothing store, New York and Company (short women….they have jeans that fit!) on the way out of the mall for one last look….and I found it. I did have a pic of myself wearing it up, but then had second thoughts about ook it down. It and t was a quick shot and is pretty blurry, plus I could have put on better lingerie. Who knows, I might take a better one to put up.
Isn’t it funny how some items just jump off that vanilla store shelf at you as clearly meant for your kink play? That’s what happened with my next pervertable find. My daughter and I were at Hobby Lobby shopping for supplies for a school project. I was also covertly shopping for the suede and handle for my whippy cane, but that’s beside the point, and covered in another post. As many of you may know, I love the color red. I look great in it and it makes me feel powerful. So when I see it in a store it always draws my eye. Walking down the beading aisles, we had each found several must haves that had nothing to do with our original reason for shopping there. My daughter eyed the stack of red bracelets and pointed them out, but I’d already seen them. And noted that they were very flexible, and looked like a plain mini collar. I picked one up and inspected it, and was delighted to see that a decorative D ring was already attatched along with a hasp, for putting a jewelry charm on, of course. Not at all for attaching a leash to.
The ‘pleather’ was very plasticy – easy to use a warm awl to put more holes into, and the edges not sharp. I have a very small wrist and figured if it fit, that would equal about the length I’d need to encircle a ball sac. It did, on the last hole, fit with a little give room. I knew immediately that the small four inch chain included with my old pager, with a mean clip on one end and a loop/hasp to attatch to the pager at the other would fit the D ring perfectly, and it would work well attached to the ankle of any shoes with an ankle strap. And it HAS. Now, I also have the belt leash to use with it…a red cock collar and rhinestone lead. Someone would have to be very good to be shown off so stylishly.
I have lots more pervertables to cover, but this one arrived in the mail today. It’s a mini-iron with removeable, exchangeable heads, for craft and sewing work; one of my purchases for my adventures in corsetry. I’d already been thinking about how my (and really, anyone’s) interest in different fetishes grows and expands as I do. How years ago I’d never have thought I’d enjoy keeping a man locked in a chastity device, or have orgasms from causing pain. Or how I found various styles of play distasteful before, but after a while, find myself more interested in them. The UPS boy rang my bell. I was taking that belt pic and threw on my robe and ran downstairs. He was pulling off but had left the box at the doorstep. I’d forgotten ordering it, so I was very curious to open the package, and remembered as soon as I saw the clover shaped stand, that it was my mini-iron. 
Nothing like a new toy to make Monday better. I took it from the package and plugged it in, and as I sat there and waited I looked at that tiny gleaming iron head and had evil thoughts. I’ve never been interested in burning/cutting/branding sort of play. But the thought of leaving a little iron shaped brand on p.’s ass for his vanilla girlfriend to find, or perhaps fashioning a brand in my initial to use with the iron, was overpowering as I watched it heat up. I got out my wrinkly test fabric- after all- this thing could be pretty lightweight. One press left a smooth one inch iron mark on the fabric and I wondered if it would make the skin smell if I did it just like that. It didn’t creep me out, which kind of creeped me out. I don’t know if I’ll pursue that further right now, but definitely something to think about; I also ordered all the attatchments, so when those arrive they may inspire me more. For those of you curious, it’s a Clover Mini Iron II. I won’t link it anywhere so I don’t scare the ladies at the craft store (Joanne Fabrics is where I ordered mine online). As you can see, Mr. Mannikin is a little worried about the whole thing.
M&M types
Last week I was enjoying the company of a long time good friend, one time client, who has become somewhat of both a benefactor and a mentor over the years. We scratch each other’s backs when it’s needed; and he’s known me since my fist months as an escort, through my cuckolding relationship, and other romantic dramas. He is *very* vanilla; and while he knows OF this side of me, he neither understands it nor wishes to. Which is ironic, because he is so very submissive and has done so much for me over the years that would easily surpass anything the subs I’ve mingled with have in the way of service and worship. From gifts to manual labor, if I just ask, it’s mine; he hears all about my love life, and we always do what I want. I get all the oral sex I want, and if he comes to visit and I don’t want sex, it’s fine with him, he just spoils me instead- or leaves me alone if I wish. Details of his personal life, too, would read like most subs chastity blogs. He’s just not a masochist, and like so many with only popular cultural exposure to BDSM, doesn’t understand the difference between masochism and submission, or that they can exist separately, as can dominance and sadism.
Anyway- in the midst of our play I had temporarily lost control of my senses and dug my nails deep into his arm, drawing blood unknowingly. When I saw the mark a few minutes later, and apologized, he said
“Yeah, you know I’m not one of those M&M’s”
and we both laughed at how bad a joke that was. I thought about explaining to him that indeed, he was ‘one of those’ – just not an ‘m’ type….but why ruin a good thing?
Maybe he just coined a new term for vanilla men with no apparent interest in kink, but whom are submissive in their relations with women. And, while my M&M is a really nice thing to have…this visit just left me realizing that this door to my dominant side, now open, will not be easily shut, and M&M’s don’t work well as pervertables, and are just not going to satisfy any more.