I gave an interview recently to a PSU grad student for her human sexuality class. Next week, I'll be addressing that class as a guest speaker. I'm told that I can bring some toys if I like (grin).
I wonder what kind of questions I'll get?
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Dental Inspiration
During my dental visit a couple of days ago, the hygienist tucked a hard plastic wedge between my upper and lower molars to help me keep my mouth open. I thought, "Hmm, a couple of those could be used for other purposes..."
With a spray bottle of spring water (or, ahem, golden liquid ;) to hydrate the sub's tongue periodically as they are helplessly open-mouth-restrained. Aren't I considerate?
With a spray bottle of spring water (or, ahem, golden liquid ;) to hydrate the sub's tongue periodically as they are helplessly open-mouth-restrained. Aren't I considerate?
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
New website update, May/9/2011
My site has gotten a little work: some snappy new writing, and a return to a light text/dark background scheme. Regular readers will notice a more congruous color scheme between site and blog. I'm happy with the reflection of myself carried in this writing; I always aim to capture some of the stark grace of my scenes.
I hope everything reads effortlessly and loads quickly. Feel free to comment/email me if otherwise.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Presenting At DomCon 2011: Part 2
I have found a lovely demo dolly for my class, and turning my thoughts toward wardrobe and makeup selection is already beginning to excite me.
I get sensory flashes of corset strings taut in my fingers, of creamy lipstick swirled onto a brush, then stroked onto surrendering lips. My mind's eye focuses on the quivering backs of feminized legs that taper, stockinged, to gleaming, precariously high-heeled shoes... and my riding crop, ever ready to correct missteps or awkwardness.
I am planning only a few, incredibly focused days in Los Angeles, the better to curate my experiences to a gem-quality handful.
This is going to be fun.
I get sensory flashes of corset strings taut in my fingers, of creamy lipstick swirled onto a brush, then stroked onto surrendering lips. My mind's eye focuses on the quivering backs of feminized legs that taper, stockinged, to gleaming, precariously high-heeled shoes... and my riding crop, ever ready to correct missteps or awkwardness.
I am planning only a few, incredibly focused days in Los Angeles, the better to curate my experiences to a gem-quality handful.
This is going to be fun.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Presenting At DomCon 2011
Big news, dear readers: I have been selected as a Featured Presenter for DomCon 2011!
My workshop, "Femme Fantasies: Crossdressing, from Sweet to Slutty," will be at 5:45 p.m. on Saturday, May 21st. Check the official site of DomCon L.A. for full location and schedule information. I'm planning to cover some philosophy and techniques for crossdressers and the women who wish to understand/control them.
This will mark my first time presenting at a convention, but I've been working up to this for a long time. I'm excited to finally cross the line from the informal individual/small-group coaching I've done to a more formal, larger-group class structure.
If you're attending DomCon, I welcome you to come to my class! And if you're available on that Saturday, and are brave enough to get primped and turned out in front of a group of likeminded ladies and gurls, volunteer to be my demo bottom (email address on my website, or comment here).
See you at DomCon!
My workshop, "Femme Fantasies: Crossdressing, from Sweet to Slutty," will be at 5:45 p.m. on Saturday, May 21st. Check the official site of DomCon L.A. for full location and schedule information. I'm planning to cover some philosophy and techniques for crossdressers and the women who wish to understand/control them.
This will mark my first time presenting at a convention, but I've been working up to this for a long time. I'm excited to finally cross the line from the informal individual/small-group coaching I've done to a more formal, larger-group class structure.
If you're attending DomCon, I welcome you to come to my class! And if you're available on that Saturday, and are brave enough to get primped and turned out in front of a group of likeminded ladies and gurls, volunteer to be my demo bottom (email address on my website, or comment here).
See you at DomCon!
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Governess Knows Best
Note: The following is a snippet of a very intense encounter, including a mention of blood. Boundaries were explicitly negotiated, and both players are experienced in handling heavy scenes. Please take care, and play safely.
He had been summoned because of a quite juvenile infraction: He had been caught peeping at me through the door crack while I dressed. He was clearly a fully-grown man, so as his former governess, I was obligated to correct him for his unseemly breach of boundaries.
Thus was the premise for our role play, and his discipline.
He had to specifically acknowledge why he was there, and express his sincere gratitude for the discipline he was receiving. I explained seriously that it was inappropriate to have ogled me - and worse, to have been caught! Like a common, drooling schoolboy. He had to make up this indignity. Surely I had taught him better, and the only way to truly rectify his mistake was to take his discipline humbly and fully.
I commanded him to fetch each implement, and contemplate its heft and painful potential while I watched closely. I know each tool very well, exactly what it can do, and when to introduce it.
There was the London Tanners strap of double-thickness leather, and the rectangular oak paddle signed to me by Jennifer Brooks. The punishment quirt, braided like a bullwhip but with two thick thongs for tails, and the hard wooden spoon.
He counted aloud each blow with gasping concentration. After some measured, firm strokes, I began to give my arm full, glorious swing.
I paced it slowly, not allowing him the luxury of numbness from sensory overload, and lacing each set with precise scolding (my favorite).
My own skin began to hum, listening to his determined acceptance, and that exquisite symbiosis buoyed me into further cruelties.
I love the cane. I love precision. I absolutely adore getting into small spots with sadistic intent.
My favorite cane is made of clear polycarbonate (the same material as bulletproof windows). Smooth frosted finish and a black rubber grip, luscious weight and flex. Its swing is incredibly sexy... and, it's sterilizable.
Before I was finished, his skin ceased to be a barrier against blood. A few tiny breaks in his hide were hardly going to excuse him from his just deserts - he was decidedly within his tolerance limits. So I wrapped his bottom in a triple layer of plastic food wrap and proceeded with the rest of the discipline.
At the end, he stood slowly and thanked me in a soft, warm voice full of gratitude.
How can my heart not swell with pleasure?
He had been summoned because of a quite juvenile infraction: He had been caught peeping at me through the door crack while I dressed. He was clearly a fully-grown man, so as his former governess, I was obligated to correct him for his unseemly breach of boundaries.
Thus was the premise for our role play, and his discipline.
He had to specifically acknowledge why he was there, and express his sincere gratitude for the discipline he was receiving. I explained seriously that it was inappropriate to have ogled me - and worse, to have been caught! Like a common, drooling schoolboy. He had to make up this indignity. Surely I had taught him better, and the only way to truly rectify his mistake was to take his discipline humbly and fully.
I commanded him to fetch each implement, and contemplate its heft and painful potential while I watched closely. I know each tool very well, exactly what it can do, and when to introduce it.
There was the London Tanners strap of double-thickness leather, and the rectangular oak paddle signed to me by Jennifer Brooks. The punishment quirt, braided like a bullwhip but with two thick thongs for tails, and the hard wooden spoon.
He counted aloud each blow with gasping concentration. After some measured, firm strokes, I began to give my arm full, glorious swing.
I paced it slowly, not allowing him the luxury of numbness from sensory overload, and lacing each set with precise scolding (my favorite).
My own skin began to hum, listening to his determined acceptance, and that exquisite symbiosis buoyed me into further cruelties.
I love the cane. I love precision. I absolutely adore getting into small spots with sadistic intent.
My favorite cane is made of clear polycarbonate (the same material as bulletproof windows). Smooth frosted finish and a black rubber grip, luscious weight and flex. Its swing is incredibly sexy... and, it's sterilizable.
Before I was finished, his skin ceased to be a barrier against blood. A few tiny breaks in his hide were hardly going to excuse him from his just deserts - he was decidedly within his tolerance limits. So I wrapped his bottom in a triple layer of plastic food wrap and proceeded with the rest of the discipline.
At the end, he stood slowly and thanked me in a soft, warm voice full of gratitude.
How can my heart not swell with pleasure?
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