Archive for March, 2008|Monthly archive page

The Correct Usage of T-Girl

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, BDSM, bitch, bitchy, bondage, censorship, cheap men, Comedy, Cuckold, culture, culture clash, dating, deviance, FAQ, forced feminazation, fun, gender, Gender bending, GLBT, GLBTQ, hybrid, Kindness, kink, LA, Lesbian, Lorelei, Lorelei Erisis, Los Angeles, neurosis, performance, perverts, politics, porn, queer, Rubber Chickens, Sex, sexual politics, sexuality, shoes, T-Girls, Trannies, Transsexual, whores, Widow Centauri on March 27, 2008 at 4:20 am

I was reading the crap that litters the max fisch forums this morning and I discovered a post written by someone who has spent 20 years hanging out with transgendered people. He said ” I’ve seen posts in which terms such as transsexual, transvestite, transgender, tgirl, etc. are used interchangeably or incorrectly. As such, I’d like to …” then he labeled the “correct” ways to define a tranny, told us in his expert way about the health risks, and suggested that most cross-dressers are gay. HAHAAHAHA!

There are so many things I want to address but for the scope of a blog I’m gonna just rant for a thousand words.

First of all boxing people up into your idea of what trans is all about is insulting. You assume that everyone is the same when it comes to these definitions. Gender variance is a spectrum and not everyone falls neatly into these categories, or even labels. Trans is by definition a changing thing, a variant — so why do you feel the need to label and define? People are not so easily categorized.


Everyone assumes that there are health risks associated with hormone therapy. Why? There are no more health risks in taking estrogen than there are with being female. By altering your gender you are altering your health risks, not increasing them.

Sure, taking estrogen might make you more susceptible to breast cancer but your likelihood of having a heart attack goes way down. You might be more likely to develop osteoporosis but you are probably going to live longer. MTF trans women are probably never going to get prostate cancer. Where is this increase in health risk? There is not enough research to state an “increase” in health risks. And what is there to be said of the health risk of remaining in a body that doesn’t fit your self image? How come no one ever talks about mental health? How many transpeople have serious emotional trauma because they can’t come out?


If we all began to acknowledge that the dual binary gender categorizations we have been sold on are a blatant lie, we could get to the heart of this gender identity stuff. None of us are all man or all woman. It is only once you step back and notice that it is all a big game, a con, a performance that these societal categorizations demand from us that you can really start to notice that we are all trans. Some of us are happy with our gender, for the time. But who is to say that will remain. It is not that you are man or you are woman, the spectrum of life is far to diverse for these two limiting choices to be the “be all end all.” They are a culturally created classification designed to keep people in line.

Don’t believe me? Check out the Navajo culture — they have five gender choices. In Fiji there are three options, Thailand acknowledges their ladyboys and you don’t have to be a hooker to be one, yo! More and more cultures are coming to terms with the failure of a dual binary gender system. It simply isn’t adequate to express the range of gender in this world.

Still don’t buy it? Take a peek into American culture. Women are becoming men, men are becoming women. And the rise of the metrosexual — what is that? Surly it isn’t a man. I don’t think John Wayne would look at metrosexuals and call them men, do you?

So if gender is a game, a performance, and a socially constructed idea — that really messes with your idea of who you are. Doesn’t it? It should.

Chicks with dicks are hot, guys with cunts are great in bed, and none of us really “know” what gender is yet, so why do we cling to this system?

People really need order in the world. They need balance and they need to believe that some things are set, right, and not changeable. They point to gender and say “Adam and Eve” one man and one woman … blab la bla.

The fact of the matter is that nothing in this world has order – it is a world based in chaos. Gender boxes make people feel safe. None of us are safe from the transvariant ahhhh! If it sounds like a cheesy horror movie it is. Clinging to two genders is corny. Why would we deny the discovery of something new?

Multiple levels of gender isn’t actually new but to most people in this culture the idea has never occurred to them. Your average Joe simply never had reason to think about why there are only two genders, or why we defend it as the only way to be – a man or a woman.

Nope, your average run of the mill guy who has never met anyone who wasn’t a man or a woman has had no chance to question gender. The common assumption is that when people have babies we deem them boys or girls (mutilating their genitals if need be just so they will “fit in”) as though they might want to be one or the other. Jeez average Joe has never even had a chance to think about this thing. We keep it from him like a well guarded family secret.

What about you? You are reading this so clearly you are at least somewhat aware of deviance – be it sexual, cultural, or gender. Have you thought through what it means to be the gender you are presenting as right now? Next time you see a woman in pants – think about how inappropriate it would have been 100 years ago. The next time you see a woman at work think about what that has done to break down the gender separation. The next time you see someone androgynous think about talking to that person and asking them who they are, what they are about, and what they think about gender.

A lot of young urban hipster types in LA think they are wicked cool. They have tattoos, and nose rings, they have all the right clothes and al the right toys, a subscription to Paper, and the new Mac book pro, they voted for Obama or Hillary, but they seem to have left their brain in their ass. WTF? Why can’t we think? Is it something in the water? Is it a culture full of mental masturbators reinforcing just how cool they are by surrounding themselves with other cool people, just like themselves? Yep, I think it is.

Al Dente Hip

That’s what Gustavo called it. Thanks G

Everyone wants to think they are so hip, so open minded, so fucking liberal that they don’t discriminate, that they are not racists, that their mommas taught them to be intellectual about everything. So why isn’t their a line of urban hipsters around my block trying to talk to my transsexual girlfriend?

When she came out and started to make the transition everyone applauded her for her bravery and then asked the same fucking questions “Are you gonna cut it off?” “Have you cut it off?” “When are you gonna cut it off?”

Why does coming out as a girl make your dick a hot topic of discussion and HOW COME NO ONE IS ASKING ANYTHING ELSE?

Same reason all the al dente hipsters just stop calling you back – they don’t want to be “uncool” but the idea of transsexuals gives so many of them the screaming heebie jeebies. They would rather not be uncomfortable so they just stop begin your friend.

Seems the average Joe who never had a chance to think about gender is much more interested in having a discussion than the barsexual girl who lives two blocks over. She doesn’t want to admit that this stresses her out, but it does. And it should. Gender bending is a strange thing and if you are not freaked out by it then you are weird, over educated, or actually hip. You are certainly not normal, straight, or vanilla if you are not completely freaked out by gender deviance. For the sake of Pete it messes with every lie they sold us. The basic truth of human existence. THIS SHOULD PISS YOU OFF, MAKE YOU SCREAM, AND MAKE YOU JUMP OUT OF YOUR SKIN! Everything people fight and lie for is a con. If gender isn’t what s between your legs then what the fuck is it? I wish more people were willing to ask questions. Real questions not “are you gonna cut your dick off?”

Watch Bad Questions To Ask A Transsexual here:

and read about the pregnant man here:


Everything you thought you knew about gender is wrong. Good luck with that.

Widow Centauri having more fun than you!

Okay, I Don’t Know How To Spell Vato or Chola — I’m White!

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, BDSM, beer, Beer Bash, bitch, bitchy, bondage, Booty Gonzales, Bunny Monroe, censorship, cheap men, Comedy, Cuckold, culture, culture clash, dating, discount domination, dominatrix, drinking, dungeon, Dykes, Easter, FAQ, forced feminazation, fun, Gay, Gay Bars, Gender bending, GLBT, GLBTQ, Golden Showers, Kindness, kink, LA, Lesbian, Lorelei, Lorelei Erisis, Los Angeles, Parties, paying for it, performance, perverts, politics, porn, Pride, Public, queer, Rubber Chickens, Sex, sexual politics, sexuality, shoes, T-Girls, The Faultline, Trannies, Transsexual, traveling, Uncategorized, whores, Widow Centauri on March 26, 2008 at 12:55 am

Widow Centauri — White Girl!

Easter night I went to the Faultline at something like 3 in the afternoon. I started out by drinking beer but when you have a seven foot tall transsexual dressed in a bright yellow dress with you in a club packed with hard bodies gay men you rapidly move to hard liquor. Gin and tonic, shots of ‘what the fuck is this” and then my very good friend Marcus popped up behind me. He is one of the only decent people in this town (he is from Texas) but I had lost track of him when I lost my phone so I was really happy to see him.

In NYC you eventually bump into everyone but here in LA you have to work at finding just the right people to keep bumping into, otherwise you have to constantly doge shit. I’m not saying they are monkeys, yo.

Anyway after I bumped into Marcus and groped him and his very sexy buff friend from Florida, in a way that was obviously uncomfortable for them, Lorelei and I wandered off. We ate some fruit from a stand and go invited up to a roof top barbeque. We were minding out own business, walking down the street, well staggering really, and a couple of Mexican boys asked us if we wanted to come up to the party on the roof. We looked up all the way to the top of a two-story building and there were a lot of people up there. We said “sure.”

Once we were up there we realized that we were the only people like us. This is the border of east LA – not south east LA but we were still the only white people. I grew up with the vatos so I know their game, I also know how misogynistic the culture is. Sure we’ll have a beer, and a shot, and shit ya We’ll have a margarita. The roof top party was extremely unexpected.

When one of the girls started to eye me in that way that warned my seventh grade receptors that a fight would procure if wee didn’t split I grabbed Lorelei, threw back another shot of tequila, and kissed her.

I grabbed her by the hair, pulled her head back, shoved my tongue down her throat and kissed her like I was Carry Grant (I’m so butch). People clapped, whooped cheered and when I came up for air the chola was gone, whoo — fight avoided, girlfriend pleased.

The boys seemed to expect that we would keep up the show so I grabbed Lorelei and headed back to the Faultline. I knew that this roof top party was no place to make out with my tranny – a bar with a black guy sure but this was not the place I wanted to die, get arrested, or have to fight a gang of girls who know how to use liquid eyeliner (something I can not yet do).

We headed back to the Faultline. When we got there we thought we would find Marcus, have a drink and chill. We were wrong. There were so many men in that parking lot there was no way to find my cute, bald, queer friend so we made friends with a couple of boys who has seen us earlier. I had been watching them make out. They just met. The one I was trolling was black, buff, and half naked with his camo shorts down just below his ass crack. He hooked up with a buff white guy who I wasn’t that into but since it was my voyeuristic time I watched the black guy stick his pretty pink tongue into the white guys mouth. Hot ,hot — pussy dripping hot.

Once we were back at the bar …. we are all in the bathroom. The white one is fucking the black one in the ass. We’re just watching them. I get out some lube and bend Lorelei over, pull her bright yellow panty hose down, and slide out the dick I have been packing all day. “Fuck it’ I think “we might as well have a mini orgy” the black boy sees the lube I’m pouring onto Lorelei’s hole and reaches for it. It’s a little vile of Eros. The ‘to go’ kind. He sticks it under his nose like it’s a popper and tries to sniff it. I bust out laughing. Truly laughing out loud! No one else seems to have noticed that he thought the lube was drugs. I fucked my girl and made her come. I took my dick out and shoved it in the black boys mouth. He sucked it clean. I put it in my pants and we left them there, fucking.

Booty Gonzales!

A Beer Bash Isn’t For Women In Pink Dresses

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, BDSM, beer, Beer Bash, bitch, bitchy, bondage, Bunny Monroe, censorship, cheap men, Comedy, Cuckold, dating, dominatrix, drinking, dungeon, Dykes, Easter, FAQ, forced feminazation, fun, Gay, Gender bending, GLBT, GLBTQ, Golden Showers, kink, Lesbian, Lorelei, Lorelei Erisis, Parties, paying for it, performance, perverts, politics, porn, Pride, Public, queer, Rubber Chickens, Sex, sexual politics, sexuality, shoes, T-Girls, Trannies, Transsexual, traveling, whores, Widow Centauri on March 23, 2008 at 9:29 pm

Bunny Monroe Head Shot

Easter—it makes me think of gay boys drinking beer and pissing on each other. Wanna find out why? I’m on my way to the Faultline. If you want to have a fantastic adventure now is a good time to call. I probably won’t hear my phone ring once I get to the bar.

Several years ago my friend JoJo called me up and asked me if I would help him run a beer bash at a local gay bar. Sure thing I said, not fully understanding what a beer bash even was. “Butch it up” he told me. I arrived in my favorite Easter dress, everyone scowled.

When JoJo saw me he said “I told you to butch it up and you come in this pink dress … WTF?” “I drove the truck” I said pointing at a monster mobile that wasn’t even mine.

Well “your gonna run the keg … good luck with that” he said as he handed me a tap and scurried off to attend to his gay boy administrative duties.

I discovered pretty fast that a beer bash is a $5 all you can drink cheap beer extravaganza! Gay boys began flocking to my keg faster than I could pour. At first they were a bit cunty about my dress but after a few beers the bi curious ones started talking to me and my the end of the night I was dancing with a group of hard bodies in my underwear.

There were a few other women there but they had butched it up. My choice to wear a pink frilly dress and Easter bunny ears made me quite a hit, once everyone had their $5 worth. Now Easter it is my favorite kinky holiday!

I am off to the Faultline for a beer bust – thanks JoJo for turning me onto them. The sexy gay boys rubbing up against each other – the piss boys recycling their beer – I just love it.

OMG I have to go masturbate!

What Does A Bunny Have To Do To Get A Carrot?

Living Life Like I’m On Shore Leave! ~~~ or how to get a session on the cheap!

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, BDSM, bitch, bitchy, boats, bondage, cheap men, Comedy, Cuckold, dating, discount domination, drinking, dungeon, Dykes, Family, FAQ, forced feminazation, fun, Gay, Gender bending, GLBT, GLBTQ, Golden Showers, Kindness, kink, Lesbian, Lorelei, Lorelei Erisis, neurosis, Parties, paying for it, performance, perverts, politics, porn, Public, queer, Rubber Chickens, sensual domination, Sex, sexual politics, sexuality, shoes, T-Girls, Trannies, Transsexual, whores, Widow Centauri, youtube on March 23, 2008 at 9:17 pm

Kinky Fun!

I’m sitting here in my office and I have my second beer, a cookie, and a pistol sitting next to me. I don’t plan on shooing anyone it just happens to be sitting next to my computer. It is loaded.

Lately I have been pretty stressed out. I have been waiting anxiously for a green light that I was expecting a month ago. I know quite well that it could take another month, maybe two or three if things move really slowly.

I have been trying to make plans. What a waste of fucking time. I have though “we should head to the cape now” … “We should give up our Hollywood apt and get ready for action” But wait, it is rent controlled and what if the green light I am expecting is red? Shit, that would be a problem. I have tossed and turned, considered going to Bikram Teacher Training to pass the time, and finally I settled on the best of all possible options.

I am going to have fun.

Most people would want four months of nothing to do but sit on their ass and wait. I find it burdensome so I thought I would drink, act like I’m in New Orleans and party till the light changes from Yellow to Green. I have never been much of a slacker so the idea of taking a vacation without actually leaving is somewhat strange to me.

I need to chill though.

So I am playing with my life. I am reinventing fun. I have been so hung up on work that fun is something that I forgot how to have. Yikes! I mist have so of this fun. I will grab my girlfriend, drink too may martinis, talk too loudly, dress up like a rubber chicken, and generally be a Hollywood asshole for as long as it takes to get through this. It’s A Gabering! Whoo Hoo!

I am offering Mistress Choice sessions where you pay ‘what you can” (within reason please — I do reserve the right to say no way cheapskate) and we do WHAT I WANT!

I get message after message promising “anything to please my mistress.” Well, here is your chance to prove it. I will take way less than my usual hourly rate, and we will do WHAT I WANT TO DO! I’ll let you tell me what you like and if that happens to be what I am interested in at the moment – lucky you, if not – well, then I play human ring toss with your mouth!

I am an adventurous dominatrix. If you are an adventurous salve, submissive, slut, masochist, fetishist, cross dresser, or piss boy (in LA) call me / email me and tell me that you want to have “Mistress’ Choice.” Tell me what your budget looks like, and I’ll let you know when I have time to see you. Expect that “now is good” will be what I say when I talk to you. I’m not looking for plans, yo.

If you are pretty, like to scrub floors, shoot video, wear costumes, go to gay bars, or just generally think you are fun (burners encouraged) give me a ring. I’m in the mood for some kinky fun!

I won’t be offering this “fun” Widow Centauri for very long – the light could change next week and good by Mistress’ Choice Adventures. Probably it will take a bit longer. Retirement is possibly in my future – real retirement, gone from the business so I would get to it, if you like me and want to play my silly reindeer games that is.

I’ll Drink To That!

My Transsexual Girlfriend

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, BDSM, bitch, bitchy, bondage, censorship, Comedy, Cuckold, dating, dominatrix, drinking, dungeon, Dykes, Family, FAQ, forced feminazation, fun, Gender bending, Kindness, kink, Lesbian, Lorelei, Lorelei Erisis, one-woman show, performance, perverts, politics, Pride, Public, queer, Rubber Chickens, San Francisco, Sex, sexual politics, sexuality, shoes, T-Girls, Tour, Touring, Trannies, Transsexual, traveling, whores, Widow Centauri, youtube on March 23, 2008 at 12:23 am

Ode To Lorelei

Alright it is time to tell you about my fantastic girlfriend.

When I met her she was a man, a very sharp man. Standing at 6’4” she was the same height as Abe Lincoln. She was actively playing Abe Lincoln in Abe Lincoln Presents, a Second City Show. She was wearing fancy shoes, a nerdy haircut, and a bright orange tux shirt! I had recently been on a series of dates that were even worse than the ones I have been blogging about here. I had resigned myself to spending the rest of my life with my neighbors cat and a good book. When she approached me we were in the The Hollywood Improv. She was the showroom manager. She came up to me after my set and said ‘I would like to get together and talk about your set” I knew I needed to talk to a professional about my set, I thought I had some funny thing but I was pretty sure that I was missing the target, just a bit. I took his card and figured I would give him three days. On day two he called me, left a very funny message and we met for a cup of coffee.

We spoke for five minutes about my set and spent the next five hours talking about everything else. Like a fool I fell madly in love with someone who was not comfortable in their own skin. My new found love told me pretty quickly that he wanted to be a woman. I said “I can make that happen … take this pill.”

Three years later she is growing tits, living full time as a woman, finding that she is probably a straight girl. She is loving every minute of it.

Lorelei is the love of my life. She takes care of a lot of my needs but she is not my slave. She doesn’t have a masochistic bone in her body. She is very tender and I love her very much. She can not fill every need in my life. She is my best friend but she is not equipped to fuck me like a black man. LOL

She directs my shows, washed my dishes, edits my videos, and acts as my human spell check when I can’t seem to get even close enough to have “spell check” make a decent guess. She teaches a couple workshops with me. A gender bending workshop and an Improv workshop. Often they are combined into a weekend long Gender Performance Extravaganza! We teach couples how to behave as the other gender — give lessons in walking in high heels, how to put on make up, and kissing like Cary Grant! it is a delicious way to break down the confusion of how to “act like” the “other” gender, whatever that is. We play with it, have a fun time and everyone leaves with a newly gendered character.

We are made for each other. We both have needs outside of our main relationship, one of which is men. I have made the most stereotypical dyke move ever – I have fallen for a straight girl. Oh well, I wouldn’t change any of it. She is awesome. She cooks, cleans, and makes a fantastic drink! We both have a preference for big black men, wanna date her — you have to get through me (I’m pretty protective). Maybe if you are up to it you can play with both of us!

Lorelei Erisis - Widow Centauri’s Transsexual Girlfreind

One Good Bitch. Is That Too Much To Ask For?

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, BDSM, bitch, bitchy, cheap men, Comedy, dating, dominatrix, drinking, dungeon, Family, FAQ, fun, Kindness, kink, neurosis, one-woman show, paying for it, performance, perverts, politics, porn, Pride, Public, Rubber Chickens, sensual domination, Sex, sexuality, shoes, traveling, whores, Widow Centauri, youtube on March 22, 2008 at 2:13 am

How is the slave seeking going?

That is the question of the week.

Pretty poorly if you must know the truth.

I met with several slave wanna be types in the last week and here are some of the highlights.

The Famous Rock Star

Not only had I never seen him, no one stopped him on the streets, he was not as well known as he had declared in his email. His car – a rock star mobile at that – a 1984 Honda that had never been cleaned. His most impressive quote “you can’t scare or offend me” an hour later he was running down the hall after he realized that I was looking for a slave, not a lover. I guess putting him in the cage made him realize that his wife wanted him home in time for supper. Funny how that slipped his mind before he was in my dungeon.

The “Experienced Player”

He was barley legal. I met him and said “I’m surprised by how young you are” because most guys who claim to be experienced are at least thirty. I’m not sure he was old enough to drink with me, he didn’t. He bought me a gift – then he sent me an email asking for it back! WTF? This is no slave of mine – shit I wouldn’t have dated an Indian Giver before I was a professional bitch! Holy Moly

Then there was the guy who said “Let’s Go Shoe Shopping”

and left me there in Macy’s when I wanted a pair of orange strappy shoes that didn’t fit his idea of what he wanted. I guess shoe shopping is code for sex in his world. He did make some suggestion that we get a bottle of rum and head to his apartment. No thanks – I have a full bar at my house and a movie theater too. At least he ditched me somewhere civilized – I love shoes and was so busy trying them on that it took me a good hour before I realized that he wasn’t coming back from the bathroom.

My Last Lover

Will My Neuroses Keep Me From Making Porn?

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, BDSM, bitch, bitchy, bondage, censorship, cheap men, Comedy, Cuckold, dating, dominatrix, dungeon, Dykes, fannie may, FAQ, fun, Golden Showers, kink, neurosis, paying for it, performance, perverts, politics, porn, Pride, Public, queer, Rubber Chickens, sensual domination, Sex, sexual politics, sexuality, shoes, student loans, whores, Widow Centauri on March 21, 2008 at 10:54 pm

Widow Centauri is Crazy


That is the topic that plagues me on this late yet sun shine filled morning.

Porn is on my mind because as a resident of the city of LA I have been asked to make porn no fewer than five times a month since I got to this fair city.

But dominatrixes don’t suck dick – oh yes we do. Sometime we don’t want people to see that because we might not be thought of as dominant, but working as a dominatrix takes everything you thought you knew about sex and flips it upside down. Why is it this arcatype of sexuality frigid? When women go to all the trouble of getting dressed up in tight shinny latex, looking fantastic, becoming a sex object for men why is it expected that we don’t want to get off?

I say dominatrixes need to take back their innate sexuality.

I think about making porn every day. I masturbate several times a day and think about having sex with multiple black men, on camera.

Things have gotten strange as a dominatrix, everyone is outsourcing, you have to.

The latest edition of DDI magazine tells us that domes are all becoming fetish models and running websites and that they will not be able to keep up with the clients who want to see them if they go traipsing off to Paris for a holiday every other weekend.

I suppose that is true but only to a degree. There are simply more ways to make money when you diversify your portfolio and see clients in every city you travel to. It is no longer the devoted slave who bank rolls a mistress because his heart is submissive and his dick follows her around like a puppy dog because she has just the right brand of dominance available for his fantasies. The late 70’s and early 80s look like they must have been an amazing time to be a dominatrix. Things are different now.

It is very difficult to not get wrapped up in the catty drama that surrounds this gig. It’s difficult to separate business from pleasure and once you have broadened the scope of your business — opened a website, started modeling and taken up a series of other money making ventures — you could quite possibly be working 20 hour days.

And for what, I ask you? So some slave can get his rocks off. Alright, if you don’t want to come that’s fine by me. I love to come. I have a body built for sin and when I walk down the streets in a new pair of high heels I feel the sexual tension.

So I find myself sitting in my very dark, blacked out vampire friendly office wondering exactly what it is that has kept me from making porn thus far.

First and foremost I am entirely too neurotic to not use a condom. That is probably the only reason I have not jumped right into the porn mess. I like all kinds of rubber but the rubber sheath that covers the penis and protects me from the icyness of boys is my very favorite latex design.

The condom is the best birth control method available. It is quick and easy. Ready when you are. It is even sexy, unless you are afraid of it. I love condoms and when boys tell me that they don’t wear them, that they can’t feel anything with them, or any mired of other things that they say — I feel a little sorry for them.

Listen up boys: learn to love condoms and you will get a lot more sex.

Women resent having the burden of birth control put upon them, they resent having to take a pill that makes them crazy just so your little dicky can feel better, more manly. Oh poor you. Yes, I am mocking you. Yes, I am venting my personal condom politics, and getting a bit raging feminist in the process. And yes, I am getting back to the porn question.

So, aside from condom usage, what else keeps me out of porn? My future. I know I know I have been a sex worker for a while, but the frigid kind who keeps all my clothing on, not the kind who engages in ATM. Might there be a difference?

I suppose it would depend on who was looking.

I’m applying to PhD programs. Will my decision to work in porn effect their decision to accept me into the cool nerds club? Possibly. I know most people assume that it would. I have been a dominatrix for longer than I really want to admit so when an ivy league institution receives and application from a dominatrix I have to wonder if she is not already a porn star in the judgmental eyes of an admissions committee. Ya know? It is all sex work so what is the difference?

The difference is that once I get into one of these oh so competitive programs I will have to defend myself every step of the way, that includes the decisions I have made in the past. You need everyone to like you in graduate school, not just the freaks. That said I will probably have to sing a different (and more on key) tune at least sometimes. But what about way in the future ? I get a big shiny degree and I my ass is on the line for an academic position but the people in charge of hiring me are particularly offended by porn (What am I gonna work at a Christian college? – hmm) so I get tossed in the shredder.

Then I find myself taking a close look at my motivations for working as a dominatrix. I have never thought ”this might be a bad move for my future.” Nope, it never even entered into the picture. So what is the difference with porn?

Is it the fact that instead of pissing on boys I will be forever captured on mini dv with a dick in my ass. Maybe that’s it. I work so fucking hard on all the other things in my life that maybe I’m a little bit chicken to be remembered as a sex symbol who actually had sex. But min dv isn’t forever – it’s not even film! In another ten years all that footage is going to be obsolete. The government is going to crack down on porn, block it from the internet, and seize the hard files. Or maybe porn producers just won’t update all that footage.

So what is wrong with being a sex symbol who gets all those pesky student loans paid off in a timely fashion?

I have all these boys sending me emails saying “I want to bring you pleasure” and I think “well write a check to fannie may.” But they are thinking “I want to eat your pussy” As though my pussy wants to be eaten. I’m not all that into having my pussy eaten – I prefer penetration.

So, why all the trouble in my neurotic little head?

I do like sex. A lot. And actually getting laid in this town is more trouble than most people would imagine. So maybe someone reading this will write to me and say “I have the funding to help you make and distribute what ever kind of porn you want to make.” Then I could dress black boys up as rubber chickens and make them fuck me. And we could use condoms. I would like that. You?

Widow Centauri’s Ass

Paying For It

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, BDSM, bitch, bitchy, boats, censorship, cheap men, Comedy, dating, dominatrix, Dykes, Family, FAQ, fun, Gay, GLBT, GLBTQ, Kindness, kink, one-woman show, paying for it, performance, perverts, politics, porn, Public, Rubber Chickens, San Francisco, sensual domination, Sex, Stephanie Locke, whores, Widow Centauri on March 16, 2008 at 9:06 pm


For over 40 hours now I have been wanting to sit down and write about the connections of my childhood and the reason I think men should pay for it.


When I was nine I had a 14 year old slave who would bring me gifts after all the lights went out. He brought me stuffed animals (specifically Pound Puppies), make up, jewelry — mostly junk but once a 14 karat gold chain, at which time my mother told me I had to stop accepting his gifts.

We had a stand off. I was only 9 but I was not going to let her squelch my good thing. And this was a good thing. I had an older boy who brought me presents. Yes, he brought them to my bedroom window at night. I loved it.

He would sneak up to the window and slide things in. I would say “what else did you bring me?” And he would pass yet another thing through the window. I think he even brought me money sometimes.

I would not talk to Raymond unless he brought me these things.

I never went to his house and I never met his family.

I have no idea where he got the things but they were always new things, with tags.


When guys send me email saying “I don’t pay to play” it offends me because at my core I am a whore. I like to receive gifts and money. I am truly turned on by being paid for my sexuality.

There are no two ways about it. As my sexuality was developing I was pounding in the message “take things from him or don’t talk to him tomorrow.” My sensory receptors have been flooded with this message my whole life.

When I was nine I snuck into the bedroom of any adult I could find. I felt like an archeologist on a mission – porn. By some point I was pretty sure every adult had some so I went in search of it.

Adults truly do not appreciate it when little kids go digging around in their bedroom, but no care for me. I lived in an age where adults hit kids as a very last resort, which is to say practically never. What was going to happen? Would we really get caught or would we find the porn and look at it to understand the sexual tension in this big persons world of ours?

Once my cousin told on me. She was a snot and grew up to be a “good person” as opposed to the professional weirdo I am. She is a teacher, I think. Narking me out sort of put a damper on our friendship.

Other than that I don’t think I ever got caught. Most of the time I would sneak into these parents rooms, and if there was a father present in the home, there was definitely porn. I would always start with the bedside table. If I found nothing or something light like Playboy I would look under the bed – bingo! If in the bedside table I found Penthouse or Hustler I knew that was the stash.

And then I started to find the fetish magazines. The women in the tall boots, the one with the big glasses was especially mystifying. She did things that were not specifically thought of as sexy to my little brain, but she was. She would stand there with a slave groveling at her feet, a single tail whip in one hand and her massive glasses on. Stephanie Locke is what the magazines told me her name was.

For the first time I found myself wanting to take a magazine. So instead of replacing it I shoved it in my sock, pulled the leg of my pants around it and walked very carefully out of the house. I stole my first fetish magazine. So began my pornographic data collecting.

I’m sure some people would look at this action and think I would develop an attraction to stealing. I didn’t. Well not stealing in and of itself but stealing porn. I started to take the good stuff, the not so good stuff, the literate porn like penthouse forums, well everything I could find in print. I stashed it in my uncle’s boat.

We lived really close to the docks and I knew I wasn’t supposed to play in the boat, but I did. My mother always got really mad at me for playing in the boat but because my uncle lived way in the hills I was always tipped off before he pulled into the city. The boat was the perfect place to hide my newfound library of porn.

I started picking porn up off the streets, a filthy habit that I sometimes find myself resorting to today when I walk past the LA X Press, a sadly disappointing alternative to the crusty ripped pages of man on man action that I would find in the alleys of San Francisco.

Anything I could find that was meant to be sexually stimulating, I took it to the boat. My friends and I would sneak down there to look at it, compare it, talk about it. We would ponder the popularity of Playboy. “Why would anyone buy this when you could get Hustler?” Our little minds were puzzled.

There was no one there to tell us that their wives might tolerate the Playboy but not the Hustler, should they find it. No one mentioned that maybe everyone has a private collection of the really good stuff, whatever that was for them, maybe every adult male had an uncle’s boat. Why would Playboy be so popular? It wasn’t the articles like they said, they would read the forum for that.


So when guys tell me they don’t pay for it I find myself wondering why. When you pay for it, you are sure to get it. When you pay for it you support the idea that women will continue to look good, for you – you dirty man you. Paying for it keeps the sex industry alive. With all the free porn available in the world right now why don’t men see paying for a real live woman to spend time with them, entertain their sexual fantasy, and swat them on the ass on their way out the door, as an investment? It is an investment in live nude girls, live human interaction, and live sexual stimulus.

Everyone loves a good cam show – I know I do – but we need each other to stay connected to reality. Without another person to indulge in your sexual proclivities what will happen to society as we know it. Will we all become a-sexual? Will we become a nation of scared, frugal, masturbators? Yes, I think so.


So I want to take a minute to thank Raymond for being my first slave. A boy who was not afraid to bring me gifts so I would pay attention to him. I wish more grown men understood the pleasure that women receive when they are paid for it. Being paid for it is a dirty fantasy, a kinky pleasure in and of itself. Being paid for it is wrong and taboo, but it does make all of your fantasies so much more pleasurable to me and my fellow sex workers. We came to be in a business where getting paid for it satisfied something in our beings. Sex work is not all about the money – I could have become a lawyer, a con man, or a Wall Street tycoon if all I cared about was money. No, the sex business is about sex, sexuality, fulfilling fantasies, and money. It s the connection between sexuality and cash flow that turns me on. And yes, it really turns me on.

So all you grown men out there, if you want to find a woman and turn her on, find out what she likes and satisfy her fantasy. If she is in the sex business money is definitetly part of the fantasy, so dig into your wallets and pay a sex worker today. You will be glad you did!


Have an RV? ~~~~~ Be My Road Bitch!

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, BDSM, bitch, bitchy, bondage, Buffalo, censorship, Comedy, Cuckold, dating, dominatrix, drinking, dungeon, Dykes, Family, FAQ, fun, Gay, Golden Showers, hybrid, kink, Omaha, one-woman show, performance, perverts, politics, porn, Public, Reno, Rubber Chickens, RV, Sex, shoes, Tour, Touring, traveling, Widow Centauri on March 14, 2008 at 5:29 pm

rvwidowtop.jpgI am planning a nationwide tour. I’m booking my one-woman show, If Lucy Had A Whip: Tales of an American Dominatrix, and taking it to fabulous places like Omaha, Buffalo, and Reno.

Sounds like fun, hun?

Anyway, last time I did a big tour I had a guy contact me and tell me that he had an RV and would love to be the driver / road bitch. I need you now. If you are sitting on your ass somewhere in fuck all USA and you have an acceptable RV, several months to drive around, and a seriously masochistic streak call me up.

You know you want to drive around with the stand up comic dominatrix. I love public golden showers, crazy role play, and adventures galore! Fire up the ol’ Winnebago and make room for my shoes.

The tour details will be blogged here:


Pandora’s Hook

In American Dominatrix, BDSM, bitch, bitchy, bondage, censorship, Comedy, dating, dominatrix, Family, FAQ, kink, one-woman show, performance, perverts, politics, Rubber Chickens, Widow Centauri, youtube on March 11, 2008 at 10:48 pm

My One Woman Show, If Lucy Had A Whip: Tales of an American Dominatrix, is being uploaded in segments and being booked around the country. The opening segment from the show is now available for your viewing pleasure. The clip is titled Pandora’s Hook and it answers one of the most common questions I have ever received. Watch it to for the answer to “How did you get to be a dominatrix?”

Visit the tour blog for tour dates, performance details, and smutty road trip stories. There is a link in the blogroll to the right
http://www.americandominatrix.wordpress.com — see you at the show!