My fantasies

I spend a lot of time enjoying many other people's fantasies. I love hearing about them, creating them, watching blissed out faces finally succumb to them. Believe me, I really enjoy this! In sexy and vanilla settings, I seem to be the sounding board for people's fantasies.

But sometimes, I need to give a little thought to what my fantasies are. Here are a few snapshots:


--go to Urusawa

--become a Unicorn. I've had custom gas mask and white latex catsuit made. I love prancing about! I'm looking for the right person to create my mane and tail.

--rope suspension . . . possibly on a palm tree . . . possibly in a tropical place.

--utilize one of those hollow strap-on dildos for men. Ultimate humiliation.

--having a live-in slave. He makes all my vegan meals and keeps the place spotless. A real 1950s housewifey. When I'm not home, he's grooming my cats.

--day out with one of the girls; mani-pedis, shoe shopping, brunch and giggling!

--I would love to sub to Joan Jett


--and I am still looking for My O.

Gary

Back when I was just a wee deviant I used to spend quite a bit of time finding helpless males to torture via AOL Instant Messenger, when one would actually call it such, and not this new-fangled AIM.

I was introduced to "Gary" through O. He found her, because as a joke in her profile, she had written that she enjoyed repurposing electrical toothbrushes as castration devices. Little did we know what a serious fellow this was and we engaged in many a conversation over the best way to relieve him of his unnecessary appendage.

We talked at length how we should be the last to use that thing between his legs for our pleasure, not for his. We wanted to have our way with him for hours. We would never let him cum. Then after blissful torture we would remove his disgusting manhood. The remodeled electric toothbrush would be switched on, a spinning frenzy of torture and delight, applied precisely and firmly to his testicals, zip, zip--faster than a haircut, we would simply slice them off.

Discussion still continued over what to do with the mess now that we had separated it from said owner. I was of a mind to bronze them and use them as paper weights. Perhaps now I would have used them as CBT weights. I think that would be rather fitting. I like to reduce, reuse and recycle.

He was so intent and enraptured by our sick, creative minds, he offered to pay for our passage to his town to engage in this fantasy. We never had the pleasure of castrating dear ole Gary, but I have delighted in many lovely castration scenarios since then.

Human Furniture

I really enjoy furniture play. A body becomes the perfect foot rest for my well pedicured feet while I read The Piano Teacher. Or perhaps you will become a neat little stool upon which I sit while chatting with my girlfriend on the phone. A truly lovely idea is to have several new chairs made for a lively and ultimately kinky dinner party.

If only this fellow was not across the Pond:
Need Someone to Turn Me Into Furniture

Kinky Boots movie review

I always think the video store clerk is judging me based on my sexy, kinky movie rentals. I'm not self-conscious, I'm narcissistic. He's pretty cute and I have fantasies of tying him up and shooting hot pink rubber bands at him for hours while playing Lina Wertmüller movies in the background, but I digress.

Wandering about in the comedy section, I could not help but notice this movie, entitled, "Kinky Boots." Loosely based on a real story, meaning not actually at all, this takes place in England at an almost bankrupt family shoe factory. In order to save the factory, Charlie Price must change his product from stuffy mens oxfords, to outrageous stiletto boots. Of course, vanilla Charlie can't do this on his own. He goes to a classic source of inspiration and intrigue . . . the black drag queen!

Enter Lola (Simon) who comes into the factory, designs kinky boots that are sexy and most importantly support a man's weight on a stiletto heel, while opening the minds of the working class in a small town.

This movie is just done really well. It's not sappy or outlandish although it could have very easily gone that route. It's not overly sentimental nor does it champion for trans rights. It just tells a really great story. It's funny, it's got spunk, it's got heart.

Kinky Boots does a lovely job illustrating the lengths some might go to in order to save a family business. There is a tender love strain too budding between Charlie and his pixie-cute employee, intersected with his shrewish, evil fiancee. There are some poignant scenes for Lola as well, what it means to be a man, what it means to be a woman--but she is real, not overly made up ever.

But what I really liked most of all is a boot design that has a slim pocket on the side to hold a matching crop! Lola whips it out through the movie and brandishes it at the factory workers.

I want these boots!

D/s dinner date

I love fine and fucked up things.

I enjoy well-prepared, exquisitely crafted gourmet food. I love port paired with stilton cheese. I love caviar, marbled fatty tuna, chocolate souffles, creme brulees, truffles . . .

I also enjoy humiliation and domination.

What better than to meld the two?

Perhaps we began in my powder room where I dress you as I see fit. Shall I do you up delicately in lacy pink panties? a full garter holding up your seamed stockings? Are your toenails painted? Maybe I'm feeling more brutal as I tie you up in full body harness and write "meal ticket" across your chest with my red lipstick. It's also possible I have attached carefully placed electrodes somewhere in the dark of your, ahem,manly bits and I will use the power box at my discretion throughout the evening. But whatever kinky under layer I choose, I will put on one of your tailored suits over it. My, my, your pinstripes will never be the same again.

I think I will be wearing my Prada little black dress. I'm fairly subdued myself except for my high satin stiletto heels. I simply glide across the room with them, but will also use my pointy heels on you at my discretion. My nails are painted deep violet.

We go to a fine restaurant of my choosing. When you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, I will order for both of us. Perhaps I will be so kind as to leave a liquid lady present in your drink. Discreetly spitting in your drink takes hardly any talent at all! The truly skilled can pass golden nectar into your water, rubies into your wine.

The food arrives. I will constantly pick off your plate because I ordered you the second dish I wanted. My heels dig into your crotch. My fingers nimbly play with the PES controller. I smile. I laugh.

You squirm and quiver in pain and delight.

Dessert arrives, but you shall have none of it because of course I ordered it for myself. I may permit you to lick my spoon when I'm done. But I may just hike the dial up to 10. We'll see.

Hard Candy movie review

Ever since Juno, I have had a crush on Ellen Page. I have had Hard Candy on my must-see list for awhile and I finally watched it this week.

In short, "Hayley" is my fourteen year old spirit-teenager. I love strong, intelligent, diabolical female characters. Hayley thinks that photographer Jeff is a pedophile and seeks to expose him and make him confess his crimes over a day of interrogation, verbal humiliation and my favorite, CBT, or more specifically castration.

As the movie progresses Hayley continually mind-fucks Jeff, lying to him, getting him to confess his sins, in a vicious and tantalizing game.

This movie was a wonderful psychological thriller. What a relief that teenage girls are more capable then just picking out lip gloss and flirting with boys--they do just fine putting the pedal the medal torturing handsome young photographers too.

Yet another mainstream movie that has inspired me for an interrogation scene and let's not forget castration . . .

The Last Unicorn

A long time fantasy of mine has been to dress up like a unicorn, ever since Masque when I had wanted to make a unicorn mask. Delightfully, Prince Poppycock sang "The Last Unicorn" by America from the movie of the same name.

This Halloween, with the help of the talented and artistic Mistress Foxxy, I became a unicorn.

My first appearance as the Last Unicorn was at Club Hell. I was a stark white slender thing, moving among slick, shiny and black bodies. I towered. I glowed. I danced.

On Halloween, you could find the Last Unicorn at
Moonshadow. Swingers found me of particular interest. My friend Skot informed me a "unicorn" in the swinger scene meant a single female. Well. Wasn't I the double entendre! I entered the costume contest and held out to the last round of semi-finals, losing to the crowd's applause over a couple of bloody women in scrubs.

All Saint's Day found me at a private party with my friend S. dressed up like fairy. We had quite the fantasy world theme going on. Her blue wig and glitter, my unicorn head and shimmer, we were a hit. I was honored with the Best World of Warcraft costume! My prize? a rather long sword to brandish.

Halloween is over, but the unicorn lives on! Thank you everyone for all the fun and compliments. I think I will be exploring my newfound unicorn fetish in months to come.

Where is my O.?

I have fantasies of making a male my perfect little pet, whether I decide to make him my whipping post or my toilet or my slave, he is always the willing participant in whatever I want him to do. I want him to suck my cock. I want to fuck him up the ass. I want to completely and utterly humiliate him. I want to call him names. I want to make him suck real cock. I want to throw him into a room blindfolded and not tell him how many people are there or what shall be done to him. I want to make him my O. I want him to wait on my every need, every anticipated need. I want him to be the perfectly trained pet I bring to parties, to fetch me drinks, take care of my coat, the valet, to be my personal servant. He waits on his knees until I pull my finger through the metal O of his collar to rise and I whisper into his ear what I desire. I want to make him feel uncomfortable. I want to find out what makes him nervous and exploit it and award him for his venture. I want him to take accupressure and massage classes to better serve me. I want him to accompany me shopping and hold heavy things. When he pleases me, I will reward him by letting him lick my feet. When he displeases me, I will punish him by making him lick the cat litter off my feet. I want him to be my human dildo. He will be bound hand and foot as I use him as I see fit.

Masque

This was my first time attending Masque. I must say, I really enjoyed this event. What an excellent idea to have a "black-tie" fetish event dinner show. I love good food, entertainment and kinky beautiful people.

Prior to this event, I got into my head that I really wanted to be a unicorn, but decided it was too complicated to do well with such a short amount of time. For now I decided to go like Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany's, very classic with a simple black dress and a black pearl necklace.

Imagine my surprise when the ringmaster/MC Prince Poppycock burst out into song: The Last Unicorn! One of my favorite childhood animations and the music is so enchanting as well. During a performance, I find the Prince at the bar and tell him how much I loved his rendition of The Last Unicorn and how I wanted to be a unicorn. He told me that he was looking for someone to be a unicorn but we agreed that is a pretty difficult costume to pull off properly. Oh, Poppycock, I want to be your last unicorn!

Mail order slave

Just the other day the catalog Uline arrived in my mail box. Usually I recycle such riffraff, but today, I flipped through and happened upon some stellar industrial plastic wrap (cling film). What colors! Black, purple and red are my immediate favorite colors being that they don’t have hot pink, of course.

I think the best use for such an abundance of pretty plastic wrap would be to wrap up an able body slave and have him delivered to my door. I would be so excited when my ordered slave arrived, coming home to a large box, marked “this end up.” I’ve been waiting weeks for such a special delivery. I open the box, packing peanuts come tumbling out and there stands my slave wrapped in purple plastic wrap. Too excited to look for a pair of scissors, I begin tearing the wrap with my sharp black nails. Finally, a pile of purple plastic is on the floor around the feet of my new slave. This—is not—what I ordered!

First of all, this slave is too hairy. I specifically remember checking off hairless on the order form. Well, perhaps I can work with that. I grab the dog hair trimmers and start hacking away to see if I can take this down to size. Hmmm, that’s a little bit better. But what are these two roundish objects down here? I most certainly do not require those. There’s more than one way to skin a cat. My daddy grew up on a farm and told me he used to castrate goats with just a rubber band and time. Moving quickly, I get a large purple rubber band from the asparagus and wrap it around those unnecessary things. I’m totally exhausted by this ordeal. Sitting back in my Eames lounge chair, I ponder if this should even be necessary to overhaul my specially ordered slave. Since I would rather not be brash, I decide to call up my dear friend Vanilla Girl to see what she has to say about this. Vanilla, as per usual is shocked and very interested to see the sub par slave that has arrived in my living room.

By the time Vanilla arrives, I have already found many more problems with my slave. He is pudgy, so with Vanilla’s help, we start circling all the problem areas of fat. All the while I am complaining about this utterly disgusting thing and Vanilla is aghast and appalled by my latest mail order slave. She is usually much too nice in these matters, but I am ruthless, pointing out additional problems such as his apparent lack of programming when I ask him to get into slave positions. I throw my Sharpie® down in disgust. We pack this useless thing back into the box, but don’t seal it quite yet. It is time to call the FedEx guy . . .