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Archive for the ‘deviance’ Category

Celebrate Volume Two — The Dominatrix Bible– Free Download of Volume One!

In dating, deviance, The Dominatrix Bible on December 4, 2015 at 9:26 pm

Dear Readers,

Many of you have purchased the first volume of my book, The Dominatrix Bible. Thank you. Those of you who have not yet had the chance, today is your lucky day. As a way to thank all of you for your loyalty over the years I am making the first volume of The Dominatrix Bible free this weekend. You don’t need to have a kindle to download it, you can read it on any device.

Follow this link and grab the first volume of The Dominatrix Bible for free.

This is a way to say thank you and as a way to celebrate the release of the second volume of The Dominatrix Bible!

I did my best to refrain from altering the relic of the past. It is a little bit like looking at my brain in relation to the smut business before I got cynical. I wrote The Dominatrix Bible before I started this blog, it is an entertaining walk down memory lane. I’m half tempted to rewrite the whole book and rerelease it. No promises.

Thank you for your patience and support. Thank you for your readership. I hope you enjoy reading my antics and advice.

If you want to talk to me about anything, in the book or otherwise, I will be on nite flirt most of the time through the holidays. We can cam or just talk on the phone. I look forward to your calls and hope you enjoy The Dominatrix Bible — it is my gift to you. Please read it (and leave wonderful feedback).

Get Your Free Copy Today!

In The Mood

In Adventure, dating, deviance, dominatrix, fun on August 17, 2014 at 8:06 pm

A little update — just cause I have not been posting here much.

You may or may may not know that I had surgery a couple months back. I wish I had spent the healing time wisely: resting, doing PT, and writing. Sadly, I spent most of my time eating pork products and watching films.

I had ten dollars to my name when I went to have surgery. I have less now. Sometimes I’m upset about not having any money. This is the first summer in years that I really don’t give a fuck. It’s always slow in the summer and I can’t beat myself up for a situation that might only be slightly better numbers wise and even worse with stress.

I have however spent a lot of time second guessing myself. Because I’m done with school, and believe in my talents I assume I should be doing something that is not just socially acceptable but is actually something that everyone around me deems worthwhile. Though I love writing and I love sex work I have been harassed every day for since I began my career as an artist and pervert. I have started to actually believe that though I enjoy my work I should be doing something that other people would do. It’s silly and childish to give a fuck what my family thinks at this point. But I do, and I have, and unless I do some serious rearranging of my head I’m gonna keep feeling like I wasted the better part of 200 thousand dollars and more than a decade of my life going to school and learning to write.

It’s important to come to terms with who I am and what I like to do. But it’s also important to realize my skills and ability and my limitations. My major limitations, I’m not 20 and I’m not longer interested in amusing men for hours on end for pocket change. I do like to play but putting in all the hours for the few good sessions I get every once in a while – ones where people actually show up, where I make money and have a crazy good time — it’s hard for me to continue to justify the bullshit that goes into working as a dominatrix and even as a stripper for a lot longer. But it is equally as hard to find a new way for me to get all of the kinky smutty sexy things I get from sex work.

I’m in New Orleans and in the mood to play and have some sexy fun but I’m not sure how long my good mood is gonna last. If you want to play the bet way to make that happen is to call me on niteflirt and talk to me for a bit. I have always been hesitant to play with anyone who does not have references and I still am. I used to have a rule that I would not play with anyone under 30, but lately I seem to feel like a dirty old cougar. Niteflirt is a cheap and easy way for anyone new to my shenanigans to get to know me, see if we have similar interests, and book an appointment. If you can’t spend the few bucks to call me and talk for a few minutes I have very little faith that you will show for your appointment.

Now that I can walk again I’m in the mood to play. I want to go out and do smutty things in public places. I want to piss on boys in public bathrooms, I want to have my feet worshipped down by the river while drinking wine, I want to take a bitch shopping on a leash.

I hope I find a useful boy to amuse me. Lately all the bitches who come into my world disappear just as randomly. That has been happening for as long as I have been a pervert though. Usually it takes a lot of work to find one person who deserves my attention.

Contact me if you think you are a worthy bitch.

I Have Food, This is Good

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, deviance, dominatrix, fun, Golden Showers, kink, New England, pissing, Public, Widow Centauri on May 7, 2013 at 4:19 pm

After reading my rant, sure as shit, some bitches came climbing out of the wood work all butt hurt saying “I’m a regular, no?” My response of ‘who is this?’ Didn’t exactly please them.

There is no fighting the fact that I am in a bad mood. I have all these big plans but every time I hear a big truck rumble to a stop I wonder if it is the power company, come to shut me down. Before I leave I’m gonna make sure there is a flashlight by all the entrances. Fuck on a stick.

But anyway

Someone called and said “I’m sorry you are in a bad mood Widow, can I take you shopping, or somehow make things better?” Of course I said yes. But I was still uncertain about who I was speaking to. He asked me where I was goign to be dancing. “I have no idea, some really well behaved subbie called me on niteflirt and totally derailed my plans to make it to a club at a decent hour. Why don’t we just meet at the supermarket, since I’m out of food.”

When we met up I knew who he was. He is a piss boy I have seen several times. As we wandered through the supermarket I threw things into the cart. When I found products that I thought would be particularly well suited for tormenting him with I would open them. “Pickled egg?” I asked coyly, as thought he had a choice. I shoved the whole jar of picked eggs down his throat and made him drink the brine. I smiled, then we moved on.

I put pretzels in his nose and marshmallows in his ears. I dressed him in a series of hideous grocery store rompers, sun hats, ugly shades, and threw a big ass beach umbrella in the cart. We made our way to the pathetic produce section. I spanked him with a leek and gagged him with an apple. Other shoppers were giggling, huffing, trying not to look, and being incredibly polite as people in New England are apt to be. One old lady looked at us with a big grin and said “you two are having more fun than anyone in this market. I want whatever you had, pour me one” and then turned and went back to her shopping seemingly quite content to have seen something amusing durring what was surely an otherwise mundane shopping experience.

When I was sure I had everything I needed I asked the person behind the deli where the bathroom was and we headed that way. After parking the cart by the bathroom door I pulled him into the multi-stall bathroom behind me. I could have gone into one of the stalls but I had to pee so badly by this point that I just hopped up on the counter, lifted my skirt and said “drink.”

He dropped to his knees and I heard them hit the tile. It sounded painful. His jaw dropped and I shot a little stream of piss right into his egg hole. “Swallow” I told him. Then he opened back up and I just let it all out. I pissed in his mouth. All over his face, into the bits of pretzel and marshmallow that were still stuck to his face.

Surprisingly he was able to drink most of it. He did get wet, but not nearly as wet as he would have if he had not been an expert piss chugger. There was a little puddle on the floor. “Lick that up” I said, as I grabbed a paper towel and dried myself off. After he was done licking the floor clean I jammed the paper towel in his mouth. “Wash your hands” I told him, “make bubbles.”

At this point I was just being a smart ass. But I was having a good time. After we are cleaned up we went to the register and he bought the strange assortment of things in this cart, including an empty jar that previously held pickled eggs. When the cashier looked at it I said “he got hungry.” The cashier looked at him, a bit wet, bits of food all over him, reeking of piss. The cashier didn’t say a word.

After loading the groceries into my car he said “ I hope I was able to cheer you up a little bit Widow.” And I sent him on his way.

I’m in a slightly better mood. I have an icebox full of food, so if the power company shuts me down while I’m out tonight I will have a massive mess to deal with. Hopefully that does not happen. Maybe you will come see me at whatever club I end up in. Watch for the tweet, then come and play.

I am sorry liver. That was totally uncalled for. Please forgive me.

In Adventure, deviance, drinking, fun, pissing, Widow Centauri on May 2, 2013 at 6:27 pm

Some time back I assumed that finishing school would make me a little batty. I have been a career student for a long time. Being a never quite finished graduate student has become part of my identity. I assumed that I would be a mess when I finally finished. I was right. I have been throughly enjoying my post grad school breakdown.

Months ago I decided I would make a trip to NOLA, immediately after my thesis deadline. I figured that I could be a total fuck up drunk and really sort of celebrate or that if I was not finished I would not be able to relax in the big easy, and that was just not going to happen. So I finished on time and I went to New Orleans.

I spent the first three days Dancing at the Deja Vu on Bourbon street. The money the first two days was crap and I assumed that I would not be able to cope with the situation if it continued as such. But day three a drunk tourtstia gave me a grip of money and we had a fine time in the champagne room. At some point he tried to call me a girl, as a way to insult me. I figured I already had his money so I began to tell him about my thesis. Then when he tried to get a little handsy I showed him the nerve tumor in my foot — sexy, I know. I went home and counted my money. I had enough to entertain me, and the people I had invited, for the rest of the week.

On our way to the festival we had breakfast at Elizabeths and then asked the bartender to call us a cab. We were waiting outside and the cab came. Some dude in a NY Yankees cap moved toward our car. I snatched it right up and jumped in. The cab driver said I couldn’t bring my drink, so we all pounded our beverages as the yankees fan started to whine ‘I called a cab too, how do I know this is your cab?” “Cause I’m in it” I told him. No Yankeess fan was gonna make off with my ride. Me and my people left him standing there looking like the sad man child he was. To the fairgrounds!

At the festival we got wet. Like really really fucking wet. Thunderstorms passed through all day. We saw almost no music, eyeballed some totally amazing and WAY out of my range art, had a couple of beers and pretended we would be able to get into the tent that had BB King playing. As we approached the tent the rain and lighting and thunder and running drunk muddy tourists started to whirl around. We assumed there was no way into that tent. We did not however anticipate the storm only getting heavier, and lasting for hours. We were flooded out of the fairgrounds, drenched. We found some coffee and tried in vain to get a cab, or get on a bus, or somehow make a plan. We were the very last group of wet tourists to get out of there.

But I did manage to pee on a tree in a way that was so super I was really impressed with the level of public pissing that I have mastered. Few women will ever achieve this level of skill. I was able to lean up against the tree, pull my panties aside, shoot piss right out under my skirt and in the massive downpour, no one even noticed.

By the time my people were scheduled to leave, I was trying to figure out if I should stay in NOLA another week, and work the second weekend of Jazz Fest, or come home. I was really on the fence about it. But I had been totally wasted drunk for about a week. I was taking pills and drinking. I got so shitty drunk the last night I was there that I smoked a cigarette with a french guy. I bit the filter off and just puffed the whole thing. I have only smoked two other cigarettes alone in my life. Both times I was drunk and with some french people. I have the disposition of a smoker but I’m a tender flower, my lungs really don’t like tobacco. Yes I am a tender flower DAMIT! Despite the consumption of more alcohol in one week than I had had in two years. I straight didn’t give a fuck. I was on a bender. Drinking, popping pills, smoking cigarettes.

And now I’m home. Home to deal with my life. To deal with the eight months of unwashed laundry shoved in garbage bags, bulging at my closet door. Home to deal with the fact that I didn’t pay the electric bill and I was really pretty stoked to see the lights are still on. Home to dodge my landlord for a few days while I go find a random club to dance in. Home to call the department of education and see what the damage is. Home to deal with all of my undone bullshit.

I really wish I had been able to stay for the duration of Jazz Fest but my inner responsibility got the better of me. And I kept bumping into Hollywood people. All these shit actors were fucking everywhere. Everyone at the pub was second city, I was drinking with the same people I had been drinking with in LaLaLand, only there were flying cockroaches and rats everywhere. I took it as a sign and came home to salvage whatever resemblance of adult life I can.

My Road Trip To NOLA ~~ Thus Far.

In Adventure, deviance, dominatrix, fetish, fun, Golden Showers, pissing, Public, strip club, Tour, traveling, Widow Centauri on April 23, 2013 at 2:02 am

I split and drove. I just felt the burning need to run away from home. The road calls me like I am some sort of wandering vagabond. I have tried but I can’t shake it.

I stopped in some middle of nowhere Virginia town and danced in their titty bar. Everyone was very friendly, there was a jukebox, no deejay, the stage was a little small but it was nice to have a change of scenery. It was a juice bar so I assumed that everyone who was there was there to got dances, and I was right. I met a really sweet dancer who tried to convince me to bring her along to NOLA with me.

Then out of nowhere a blog reading fan walked in, spotted me in my blond wig and came to give me all his money, adoration, and submission. It was really cute the way he just sat there sliding me money. “Do you have to continue on to New Orleans?” he asked with a twangy Virgina drawl. “Yeah sugar I need to be there by Tuesday, but if you keep passing me money like this I will come back just to visit you” I told him.

When the end of the night came I told my new money boy to meet me at the gas station. When we finally were able to locate a truck stop that was open he filled my tank and I filled his. I took him around back to where the trucks were parked. “Get on your knees” I told him. He didn’t question my order he just dropped. I lifted my skirt and shot all the piss I had been holding onto all night into his mouth. I drenched him. I wanted to tease him, make it last as long as possible, but I had to piss so bad that I just shot it everywhere. He was soaked. Completely drenched. His hair and shirt, even his pants were soaked. He got it up the nose and down the throat. He got it in his ears.

“See you next time” I said as I walked away leaving him there on his knees in a truck parking area out behind some random truck stop. I hopped in my car and headed down the road.

By the time I got to Chattanooga I was exhausted. I got a room and took a nap. A reader called on niteflirt and it turned out that he was about an hour away. He wanted to book a four hour public humiliation session. “Alright but we do the whole thing my way” I told him. “Yes ma’am, of course” he sputtered. “Is there anything I can’t do to you, anywhere we can’t go, are you important around here, will people recognize you?” I asked. “No, I am no one special” he spat out.

I met him at the bar across the street from my hotel. I ordered a double shot of whisky and a bottle of water. I gave him the whisky and I drank the water. “Give me your keys, your phone, your wallet, and my money” I demanded in a slightly raised tone. He proceeded to fork over the things. A few people at the bar noticed. “Get up and spin around so I can take a look at you. Do a little dance for me” he did a pathetic little pirouette. After two more drinks we got in his car. I handcuffed him under his legs and drove to the three strip clubs in Chattanooga Tennessee.

Once I saw them I was kind of relieved that I didn’t have to dance in these clubs. They were all kind of small and dark. Touching was not allowed. But when we got to the Puss and Boots is seemed to be a little more lenient and a lot seedier. We sat down and immediately two dancers came over. I told them that this cow was my bitch. They had no idea how to respond. I opened his wallet and gave them both a $20, handed him a piece of plastic and told him to find the ATM machine. Get as much as you can. He came back with a measly $200. “I’m sorry that was all the machine would let me have” he mumbled.

What the hell is with ATM machines limiting your amount in strip clubs. That is such nonsense, and it is bad for business.

At the same time, almost in harmony, the two dancers who approached us, Cindy and Carly ( I think), asked us if we wanted a lap dance. “Yes” I said. They took us to this little ghetto chair set up and began dancing. “Is there a champagne room here?” I asked. “Yes, sort of” said the dancer. “If we went there would you piss all over my bitch?” “Oh, what?” She seemed totally confused. “Really, you want me to pee on him” “yeah,” I said “and your friend too” “I’ll have to ask her” she said. “Obviously, go talk about it and if you are game come tell us how much”

In a few minutes they returned and said that for an extra $200 each they would piss on my cow. “Do you take visa?” I asked digging through his wallet. “I’ll see if the bartender can run it for us”

In what seemed like way too long to process a credit card we were all in the ‘private, VIP room.’ “So how do you want us to do this?” Cindy asked. “Fat boy, lay on the floor” I told him. He looked concerned. The floor was clearly somewhat sticky. It was a run down little dive, clearly some extras had gone on at this club. “Take your shirt off unless you want to be wet” I told him. He looked at me and looked at the floor. “I would like to be wet ma’am” he asserted. “Suit yourself just get down on the ground.” He laid down and I had the two dancers stand over him, pull their panties aside and aim for his face.

“Oh I can’t” one of them giggled. “I can” said the other, letting a very timid stream come drip drip dripping out. It went right into his gaping mouth. The first one let the stream fly when she saw that. She sprayed his face, and then giggled a little more, turning away. After they emptied their bladders on this cow I decided I would too. I stood over him and drenched him. I got him soaking wet. These sweet strippers were new to this but I had to pee. My toilet boy guzzled and chugged, spattering on my piss as it just kept coming out of me.

“You said you wanted to be wet” I told him. “Can one of you go get some paper towels?”I asked. In moments there was a roll of paper town. “Mop up this mess, bitch” I told him. “Then shove the nasty wad of paper down your pants. Don’t miss any. I don’t want someone to come in here and slip because of you.”

Once he had the wad of totally discusting paper down his pants we thanked our pissing strippers with a big tip, went back to the stage and watched some dancers. “Do you think you can pole dance?” I asked him. “No, ma’am. I’m not a very good dancer.

We sat there in silence until his wallet was empty. We got back in his car, I handcuffed him again but this time he was soaked with piss and had a filthy wad in his pants. “Stroke your dick while I drive” I told him. “But I’m” he started to mutter. “Ah, ah, ah! Figure it out. I want you to have an orgasm before we get back to where we started.” He started poking at it, all hunched over. I turned the music up and told him to tell me when he was coming.

While John Denver sang out the bitch said “I’m coming, I’m coming” like he was running late for a train. I turned the music down and pulled over to watch. He jerked and contorted banging his head on the dash a few times. It was delightful.

Though I wasn’t sure that I was not going to make him get out and ask directions I managed to find my way back to the shitty hotel and the bar across the street. I uncuffed him and gave him his phone and wallet. “Your keys are in the ignition” I said as I walked off into the distance.

After a hot shower and another nap I noticed that an old client of mine emailed me about an overnight just south of Birmingham. I just beat him silly, had a glass of wine, and put him to bed so I could tell you about my adventures.

There were a couple of road side piss stops that did not involve anywhere near as much interaction. Just a couple stops at the gas station, use the human toilet boy bathroom, head on down the motorway. Sexy, quick, and dirty.

I should be in NOLA tomorrow afternoon. Meet me in the quarter for a drink.

Road Trip To NOLA

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, deviance, FAQ, Golden Showers, Happy Hour, New England, pissing, Public, strip club, Tour, Touring, Widow Centauri on April 20, 2013 at 8:52 pm

I’m packing and driving to NOLA right now. I decided to drive. I need a good road trip. Going through DC, then through Tennessee and Alabama.

I am available for road side piss stops.

My plans so far:

Grotton CT (10 PM or so) — I’ll stop at the Gold club and if they let me stay and dance I will be there till they close at 5 am.

Washington DC four or five hours after I leave the gold club. I will update twitter.

I am only stopping in DC for a few hours.

Looks like it takes about four hours to get to Roanoke VA. I’m planning on stopping at the strip club in this town. There is only one. If they let me stay and dance I will be there Sunday night.

I’ll update on twitter when I leave Roanoke VA

Knoxville, TN four hours or so later.

depending on the strip club in Roanoke I may or may not dance in Knoxville.

Chattanooga

Birmingham Alabama

New Orleans sometime Tuesday night.

~~~

Gawd fuck hell I hope my car makes it, that I can dance in these strange towns, and that you are thirsty and want a road side piss stop!

I need a road trip, so I’m gonna finish up here and head out.

Text me to schedule road side piss stops. Be sure to tell me what major area you are in. If I am close I will call you right away. If I am a ways out still I will text you back or ring you at my earliest opportunity. My mobil number is 619.884.2376

Follow me on Twitter for the adventure.

I’ll turn niteflirt on as I am able.

NYC Monday April 15th

In Adventure, deviance, dominatrix, fetish, Golden Showers, Happy Hour, kink, pissing, Public, Widow Centauri on April 14, 2013 at 8:13 pm

Heading to Cadillac Lounge in Providence RI right now. Then NYC tomorrow. I have very limited time in NYC for public golden showers ONLY.

Thirsty bitches should text me

619.884.2376

Lower east side mid-morning till about 3, maybe a little later. Midtown till 630 or so.

Someone To Kick In The Balls

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, Cadillac Lounge, deviance, dominatrix, New England, Public, whores, Widow Centauri on April 13, 2013 at 10:41 pm

Shortly after I tweeted that I wanted to kick someone in the balls all night, mr sore nuts came skipping into the building. I’m sure he had a time of finding of me. Luckily he knew to ask for The Dancer Friday, because otherwise he never would have found me in the packed club.

There were hundreds of people there. Two ballers sat in the VIP area looking rather dejected. A party bus rolled in with 40 people from the local sanitarium. College kids, local constructions workers, the slew of wanna be gang bangers, some bitchy non-stripper women, and the seventy or so dancers and employees that were constantly failing to give a shit about the crowd. They seemed a lost cause to so many of us.

A low profile tong rolled into the VIP area sipping drinks with no labels. Just random unidentified liquor, like it was prohibition. The spokesperson designated to speak to the dancers assured me that the men were all respectable Buddhists. I’m always on guard when someone tells me they are a Buddhist in a sex work situation. It’s almost as if telling a stripper you are Buddhist is code for elitist and unaware, though self-enlightened. One of them tried to finger me.

But then came johnie tough nuts. After the bouncer hunted me down and told me that the lone biker in the corner was looking for me, I headed over not sure if I should expect anything worth my effort of walking the ten steps to where he sat. I wore a hideous blond wig and a neon pant suit. I must have looked like a crack whore from the 1970s. I’m not sure he really thought it was me at first.

“I read your blog and your tweet” he said through his bushy mustache. Feeling me out, hoping that he didn’t get the wrong dancer. “So what can I do for you?” I inquired, “ball kicking, golden showers, face slapping, or something more timid, like a lapdance?” “I came hoping you were serious about the ball kicking” he spat out.

I smiled and leaned into his ear. “How much money do you have and how much pain can you take?” I asked. “Money is not an issue for me and I’m a pretty serious masochist” he said. Getting out his mobile phone he showed me pics of some swollen, bondage bound, pierced, weighted, and cut balls that he assured me belonged to him. I smiled and stood up took his hand and headed to the champagne room.

I explained to the room host that we might be making some painful and silly noises. She looked perplexed. “Tip her” I told the masochist. He put a $50 in her basket and we went to the room furthest in the back.

For the next two hours I kicked, punched, jabbed my heel into his sac. I watched him fall over in pain. I laughed. At some point the host asked if we were alright. “Yes, but if you could send in Jezebel when she is available, we would like to have her play too.” “Of course” said the host, and away she went.

When jezebel arrived we played tug of war with his balls. I used my garter and some rubber bands for some elaborate cock and ball bondage. We kicked and poked. We used body parts to hurt him and then when we were tired I got some props out of my locker. I happened to have a cb3000 in my locker and before he left I locked him in it and told him to return with a thousand dollars in 24 hours if he wanted me to unlock him. His swollen, bloody engorged sack didn’t want to fit in the chastity belt. But I got it in there.

Once he was locked up he started to panic and whimper about his wife. I just laughed. “See you in 24 hours” I said as I turned and left him there in the champagne room to deal with his little world.

I guess I should go to the Cadillac Lounge tonight.

I hope I see you there.

An update: Draft Sent, California Dates, New England Dates, Call Me On NF

In Adventure, American Dominatrix, bathroom, BDSM, Cadillac Lounge, deviance, dominatrix, Easter, Education, Golden Showers, Happy Hour, Los Angeles, Massachusetts, New England, paying for it, pissing, Public, San Diego, sexuality, strip club, Tour, traveling, Widow Centauri on March 2, 2013 at 9:33 pm

I have no idea how many more chances I am going to have to update this blog before I’m in motion. My time is tight, so here are the facts:

I got my draft sent into my committee! I am very fucking proud of myself. It took forever and a lot of ignoring other things. I’m trying to have a final copy in to publishing in a few weeks, so I am not going to have a lot of time to post updates here. Just so you know. I’m crazy busy finishing school, but I want to have some fun. Also, I need money. I need quite a bit of moolah to deal with the politics of finishing school. If you have never had to complete the process of finishing grad school you have no idea just how expensive it is. In addition to all the fees and stuff they tell you about, you have to maintain your life while you are forever doing research and writing. It gets really costly really fast.

I would like to see a little more perversion in my life in the coming days and weeks. Like I said time is very tight so don’t wait, contact me and make something happen, NOW.

I AM ON NITEFLIRT WHENEVER I AM ABLE TO BE. Call Me and we can plan something really sexy!

If you want to see me in person:

Saturday 2 March I will be dancing at the Cadillac Lounge in Providence RI.

Sunday 3 March I will be dancing at the Cadillac Lounge in Providence RI.

Monday 4 March – Sessions in New England – until I am in CALIFORNIA!

CALIFORNIA DATES ARE SET — I might be there a couple of days, I might be there as long as three weeks. Be patient and serious about playing with me when you contact me about California dates.

Here is the information I have on my expected travel plans:

On 13 March, I will fly to SAN DIEGO. I doubt I will know how long I am going to be there until I get there. I have a ticket out of socal on 3 April. I don’t expect I will stay there that long. I want to be in New England for Easter Weekend. But A Deadline is a deadline and I might get stuck in the land of palm trees and mangos. I’m sure I’ll find a way to cope.

I’m imagine that I will be in SoCal for at least a week. I will be in LA, one or two days. If I am in SoCal more than two weeks, I might make two trips to LA but don’t count on it.

I AM AVAILABLE FOR QUICK ROAD SIDE PISS STOPS WHILE I AM IN CALIFORNIA
And until I leave New England.

I’m really excited to be finishing school. Please come celebrate with me!

Call me on NiteFlirt — Now!

Also, I acquiesced — Follow Me On Twitter.

Twitter is likely the place I will update more often, so if you are hoping to meet up with me in SoCal, click the follow button.

Happy Alcoholidaze

In Adventure, deviance, dominatrix, Golden Showers, perverts, pissing, Widow Centauri on December 7, 2012 at 6:43 am

I went out at noon expecting to interrogate an old fat man in a staples and be done in an hour, home to my pot of tea. But during the game I said, “take me shopping,” and then I had him pushing me in an office chair that made me feel every bit Queen Carlota. Yeah. “This way, no that way you moron, where are the pens I want? You suck, this is all your fault” a real scene.

“Follow me” I said as I led him through a series of mundane errands and eventually to the Christmas Tree Shop where I dressed him in Christmas decorations for all the packed store to see. Some people loved it, laughed, pointed. Some people pretended not to notice. Some people were horrified that we should have the audacity to violate the misery of Christmas.

Of course I put a hat on his head, but I decorated him in ornaments and candy canes and at one point I pushed the inflatable snow man over, and once you do that it can not be undone, all the inflatable things began to topple like a plushy pervy set of dominos. “Run away” I told him as we made out way back towards the trees.

Every time we saw a nutcracker I snapped “Bow to your master” and he did, all the way on his knees. We started to gather a fan club.

Once we checked out I asked where the bathroom was and we headed straight there. I took him into a stall and told him to strip. I pissed in his mouth, a little squirt at a time. Then more them more. Someone came into the bathroom. I tried to be silent and not get caught. I kept pissing on him till I could hold no more and I drenched him. I shot it all over the bathroom. He was soaked.

“Put on this Santa suit and clean up this mess” I told him.

On our way out a cute little twink tried to get in on our party. I told him to follow us and he would get a Christmas present but by the time we were outside he was no longer following us.

But that didn’t matter because everyone was happy to see Santa.

We went to the pet shop and got Santa a choke chain and a leash. We then went back to he staples and picked up something we forgot. A tourist took our photo.

We headed down the street that shall not be mentioned by name and I slammed on the breaks. “I must have that.” “Oh my gawd not here, please mistress. I know a lot of people here. Please, anywhere else” “get out and stop being a whiny little bitch” I told him. No one is gonna see that you are behind the creepy Santa outfit. All they will see is creepy Santa. Pull your pants up and get out” we went into the store but sadly the thing in the window was not for sale. I spun around in a circle and in two seconds I said “I want that” pointing at a four foot high plug in illuminating Buddha.

The young ladies running this trendy boutique looked at us — me with my turtle neck sweater, pearl earrings, and a creepy dirty looking Santa on a leash, and went to get the Buddha. We stood there waiting, not looking around. Not making small talk, Just waiting for the delivery of the plug in deity.

When it arrived in a box I asked the skinny girl if it was heavy. “Oh yes” she assured me. I looked at here again, eyed her up and down and said “do you lift weights” “no” she informed me “and you got it all by yourself? “Yeah, but it is really heavy and awkward” “thanks for the warning” I told her.

I pulled my car up front and we had to take Buddha out of the box to get Buddha in the front seat. I had a blessed passenger.

We went to a spot where I had heard there were glory holes. We found them but sadly there was no one on the other side of the hole. So my bitch didn’t get to suck dick. “Strip and lay on the sticky floor” I told him. Then I pissed into his mouth while gay porn illuminated a cum covered screen in front of us.

When I was finally done drenching him I sent him home to his family.

Thanks for the Buddha, Santa.