Archive for September, 2012|Monthly archive page

My Schedule and Travel Plans ~~ Also Clips4Sale ~~

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, Cadillac Lounge, deviance, dominatrix, fetish, fun, Golden Showers, kink, Massachusetts, pissing, Public, Widow Centauri on September 17, 2012 at 9:02 am

I have been updating my clips for sale store pretty often.  There are some very sexy piss videos and some very well shot kink.  Visit and Shop:  http://www.clips4sale.com/studio/56187



I am in Providence RI on September 17th, 18th, and 19th.  I will be at the Cadillac Lounge Tuesday the 18th after 7 PM.  Come and Play!

I will be in Boston Thursday (September 20th) from about five in the afternoon through Friday morning, possibly noon.  I only have a few time slots left — Friday morning is open thirsty breakfast bitch.  Schedule in advance, last minute is always dangerous.

Friday September 20 I head to Western Mass.  I will be there about a week, maybe ten days.  If you want to play in western mass now is the time.  I won’t be back any time soon.  I might head to a titty bar in Hartford a night or two, maybe.  Gold Club or Kahoots.  Not sure yet.  If you want to see me in Hartford email me.  I’ll let you know if and when I head that way.

1 – 10 October.
17 – 25 October.


Halloween  — I am available for a very sexy spooky overnight.  I will be in my hearse, in New England.  Not sure what I am doing or who I am doing it with.  Sexy spooky kinky people only.  No wankers, no short sessions — overnight only.


Why I Work As A Stripper

In Adventure, deviance, FAQ, fetish, kink, New England, paying for it, perverts, politics, porn, Public, Sex, sexual politics, sexuality, strip club, whores, Widow Centauri on September 17, 2012 at 5:35 am

I’m well educated and I have a really nice middle class job.  So why in the hell do I work in seedy bars half naked doing dirty things with strange men for money?  Because I like it.


I like the rush I get from meeting you in a dimly lit bar, with music so deafening that I am wearing (and hiding) earplugs.  I like meeting you, a strange man who I would likely never say two words to on the street, maybe you are over weight, maybe you are not within twenty years of my age, maybe you are not the least bit sexually attractive to the non-dancer version of my sexuality (whatever the hell that might be), but in the titty bar you don’t have to be anything but ready to pay me.  Sure you must have a modicum of polite behavior, and a decent amount of personal hygiene, but other than that the deciding factor is ‘are you ready to have a sexy time?’


I give you some extra dirty dances.  I let your hands roam, I let you lick me, suck on me.  When I look down at you, someone I just met, sucking on my tits in a dingy little club I calculate the amount of money that I am making, I think about the reality that this does indeed make me a cheap whore.


I used to do high-class escort work, now I’m in a titty bar, by choice.  I could still escort but I actually get turned on in the strip club, I’m pretty hot for the self-degradation that I play in my head. I don’t know what other dancers do to ignore or enjoy this job, but I find it can be somewhat meditating.  It is one of the few places I frequent where I am not expected to be smart or competent.  I can relax into the objectification that all feminist literature tells me I am supposed to dislike.  I can play a role: The Bimbo. I like it.  I almost never have to make conversation that involves much more than me saying things like ‘wow, you are so smart,’ ‘you are so cute,’ ‘I can’t believe your wife does not appreciate what you do for her,’ and then we get on to the dirty sexy times.  And they are dirty and sexy.  Escort work was a lot more private. It was over in an hour.  No strangers peeping in at us.  Escort work was sexy but working in the clubs brings out the skeezer in me.  I expect to have at least one orgasm every time I go to work, hopefully more.


I love it when you feel me up while I am grinding on you.  Your hands wrapped around me like random disembodied hands in the night.  I love looking across the way and seeing other dancers giving dances, some of them working too hard, others rolling their eyes at me to express a level of discontent with the experience.  One night I looked across and saw too blond dancers with the same shade of bottle blond bouncing at about the same pace, backs to me, I thought I was seeing double, I had no idea who the dancers were but from the rear, side by side, in little booths so they could not see one another but I could see them both, they looked exactly the same.  Later I looked across and I saw an 80s man, looked like he stepped right off the set of Miami Vice, I saw him snort a line of coke off a strippers ass.  He watched me watch him.  We both delighted in the voyeuristic experience of doing our dirty deeds right out there in the open.


When I am giving lap dances I always hope that you are not freaked out about how much it is going to cost, that you are in the mood to play (because I am), and that you have just the right touch.  I love to have my nipples pinched, but not too fucking hard, not at first.  At first I like to be built up a little.  I like to have you pinch them gently then harder, tease me with it.  I can come from having my nipples pinched and played with.  I get wet when you suck my tits in this grimy little sin shack.  I don’t do this job out of desperation I do this job because I am a fucking pervert.  When I am dancing I stroke your dick through your pants. Is it a big one?  Oh lucky me, we will go to the VIP room.

Having A Drink at the Titty Bar

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, deviance, dominatrix, drinking, fetish, Golden Showers, Happy Hour, kink, pissing, Public on September 9, 2012 at 4:54 am

Recently I was at the titty bar and a boy who I have seen before appeared before I was even ready.  He texted me and told me that he was upstairs waiting for me.  I came upstairs not even sure who I was looking for only to see that cute little bitch.  Oh, you.  I was sure he had died from dehydration by now.  It had been so long sine I had seen him last.


“Give me your money” I said to him as I pulled out my garter.  “All of it” he slid all the money he had in my garter.  “Come with me” I said, extending my hand to him.  He took it obediently.  We stopped at the atm.  “More” I said.  He looked at me sheepishly and withdrew the maximum that this piss ant little baby tam would allow.  I took it and led him to the back room.


“Sit down” I said as I pushed him onto the sticky couch.  I stood up on the couch, hovering over him. “I’m not wearing any panties” I informed him as I pulled my long dress aside.  He inhaled, almost a gasp for air but more a pervert attempt to smell my cunt.


“Thirsty?” I asked.


“Yes, ma’am” he stuttered.


“Stroke your cock, give me a little show” I demanded.  “Here?” he asked.  “No out on the dance floor. “ “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he muttered.  I shot a little stream of piss in his eye.  “Do as you are told,” I instructed.  “Yes Widow, I’m sorry” he said as he unzipped his fly and pulled out his rock hard dick.  He began stroking it.  I pushed my pussy into his face.  “Get me off, you useless toilet boy” He stroked his prick and ate my pussy.  I dribbled a little pee, then a little more, then within a couple of minutes I was coming and pissing all over his face.  “Don’t spill any on this couch, toilet boy” He did.  Is splashed all over his face, on his shirt, everywhere.  He gulped and swallowed but he was a mess.  As he was almost drowning in my fluids, he came.  It was a big shooting burst of come.  It got on my leg, on the floor, on his pants.


This poor fucker was a mess.


I laughed.  “Lick your come off my leg, you nasty bitch” I said as I pointed to where the goo was.  He crawled over to my leg and lapped it up.  “Now lick it off the floor” I said as I pointed to the most discussing sticky floor.  Shockingly he didn’t bat an eye, he was down there licking it up like a good little pig.  His dick was getting hard again.


I pulled a sticky wad from the trash-can and shoved it in his mouth.   “Get the hell out of here you pervert.  Come back when you have more money for me.” And with that, he ran off.


When I came out of the room the woman who works as the VIP host looked at me and said, “what the hell happened to that guy? Did he come all over his shirt or something, he was soaking wet”  “nah, I pissed on him,” I said.  She looked confused and horrified.  Then we both laughed.  I’m certain she thought I was joking.