Whipping at the Chelsea Hotel, Written on a Plane from Charlotte, NC to LA 6:07 pm

     

New York just wouldn’t be as fun without my West coast friends to spice up, enhance, altar and enrich this money and success driven city. I am not able to find the underground artistic multi-dimensional experiences here that perhaps once happened during the Studio 54 days, or when Andy Warhol threw his famous art parties where everyone dosed on LSD. It takes a special someone in the know of the unknown to spark a trip down the rabbit hole with Alice and her Kinky adventures in New York Wonderland. I was in for just the treat.

I’ve known Jeffrey since my San Francisco play party days; he’s known to escort me to the most epic, over the top, themed sex parties in Los Angeles and San Francisco with the SEXIEST and most “conscious” group of sex-positive people I know. Whether I get play at one of these parties or not, I always meet a new friend in which to continue an ongoing friendship with. This time Jeff knew of the kinky party happening in NYC, and I was one of two of his dates.

The other is Veronica, a tall successful, model-gorgeous Professional from SF whose husband I fucked at her last play party I attended. She’s so solid in who she is and her relationship that it was barely a topic of discussion! All she said to me on the topic was how she tried to interject him at the party when he was doing the condom run while I was left naked on the couch waiting, on, well her couch, and he replied,

“Baby I’m about to FUCK!”

In which case the inquiry ended and her man sauce quickly returned to me with his beautiful hard cock…but that’s not quite the story I’m telling here. Back to NYC!

Jeffrey invited me over to Veronica’s sisters’ apartment, only 10 blocks away from where I was staying to partake in pre-party cocktails. These are not regular cocktails, but specialty pre-measured scientifically tested by him, that are usually….ummmm… well not always the most usual substances.

The Secret Recipe:

1. One half of one pill to stimulate the brain, which I end up doing a quarter. 

2. one-half dropper of a potion to stimulate the heart, 

3. one Deer Antler Pill for increased libido 

4. a 3rd of a gram of a mysterious liquid that makes you all around giddy. 

It’s the best cocktail I’ve had in NY; by mixing and under dosing with everything, you get a nice steady high without the bad hangover the next day.

Veronica, in her 5 foot 10 inch 120 pound frame is prancing around in 4 inch pumps and her new Agent Provocateur underwear set that Jeffrey purchased for her earlier in the day, with a cigarette in hand and a diet coke. It baffles me that she eats whatever she wants as far as processed sugars and smokes and can look so unbelievably HOT! We are sharing Jeffrey for the night, and there’s no awkwardness between her and I, it’s not even a topic in the air, it’s as if the pink elephant of sharing cocks has gone out of fashion like last season’s shoes.

We partake in our “virgin” yet sinful cocktail, and depart for the play party, which by Jeffrey has been built up to be an exclusive and sexy party crowd that has an extensive screening process, and that there will be a great selection of sexy people there.  I’m excited and intrigued to meet a single sexy man, but have no expectations nonetheless.

The directions are to go to the Chelsea hotel and tell the people at the front desk we are going to Robert’s cocktail party. We arrive at the dilapidated building with a lobby that looks like we are going to a hostel and I begin to get worried; I thought we were going to a SWANKY upscale sex party! Not a run-down piece of shit place?! We ride up the elevator to the 7^th floor and exit to stripped walls, for the hotel is undergoing a renovation, making our sense of unease even more validated than before. Then appears a pink light at the end of the hallway, an ode to cheesy swank. Is that such a term? Well it is now.

Robert, the Italian Aussie greets us three Californians at the door, and a shy Frenchmen takes our coats, a coat check number written by hand on a card and offers a tequila shot. We aren’t drinking due to pre-party cocktails, and it was an awkward moment, but our buzz was glowing in full swing and I didn’t really care.

Robert, short and stalky, charming with eclectic intelligence explains he has lived in the apartment for 20 years, and has lived in NY as a photographer. I find that hard to believe for some reason, as many people with boring jobs cover it up by saying they are an artist or sell pointless objects to make their income.

We walk through the small hallway resembling an old SF Victorian flat, all dimly lit with Boudoir settings; Antique dresses on mannequins and Baroque paintings on the wall. The lovely corner apartment overlooks the city, full of quaint charm that can keep an aesthetic person like me entertained for a while. The party is skim, meaning there were only 3 or 4 other couples there already at the time and none of them I labeled in my mind as “doable.” One slinky blond lady flirted with me quite a bit, overly horny and perhaps drunk and was imitating a school-girl wanting to be a porn star. Later she received the award for sucking the most cocks; I saw at least 7 go in her mouth in between pussy licking and fucking. I took a note to not go near her lips at the end of the night. I’m very cautious about whose cock I put in my mouth.

A few kisses there, a few strokes there, but no ones is grabbing my attention. We are all down to our lingerie now, and I’m in a light pink set with a black embroidered shoulder vest and wearing my 5 inch fetish heels. I’m getting looks but no real offers; most men are with the partners they came in with. 

Then Robert, the host, approaches me and my pussy starts quivering; he has a remote control vibrator in between my legs; I’m high and it feels much more amazing than any one else’s juvenile and lustful touch. We play in the living room, standing, him stimulating my pussy through my underwear….Robert has to attend some duties, leaves, then returns moments later to suggest we go in the side room. I agree. I sit down on an inlayed bench full of pillows, my legs spread wide, with the instructions that I get myself off with the vibrator. At first Robert is just admiring me, we exchange a few kisses. Then blowjob girl approaches with a riding crop and starts tapping my legs and pussy with it. I tell her to go harder; then robert gets the inspiration to whip out his toys; he caresses me with an 18 inch AMAZING flogger and starts using it on me. I tell him I enjoy medium pain, until I get pink and no bruisesJ

When I move to orgasmic waves, the flogging becomes more intense; I’m still facing him, I’m enjoying the whip hitting my nipples, down to my thighs, my pussy, then I move my head to the side and have him whip firmly on my neck. The flogger flies past my face, makes contact with the side of my neck, and reaches all the way around to my backside.  I hardly flinch knowing this object of pain is right by my eyes; my Dom of the moment is highly skilled and everything he’s doing feels amazing. robert does not break rhythm, and I am screaming in elevated pleasure, eventually gaining a crowd of on-lookers who are ultra curious as to how I like to get off. The pain is just enough to heighten my pleasure, about equal to my clitoral stimulation with the vibrator; if It was just a pain response, my body would be reacting and tensing up; I was in complete surrender and Euphoric release to the pain, each stroke and hit becoming better than the next; my vocal chords open, Jeffrey on the bed, his eyes peaking through in curiosity to my great pleasure. I’m proud to show him a side to my sexuality he’s never seen before. And quite frankly I’ve NEVER BEEN FLOGGED SO WELL! Perhaps it was the cocktail, the vibrator, how secure I am in my sexuality now, with my clit sending me to heaven, I came on that bench, now recollecting I’m not sure how long or how hard, all I can remember is the light going off in my brain.

Completely satisfied by the night. I relinquish control of this amazing vibrator, and exit the bench area, climbing into bed with Jeffrey and the other host Mistress of this Sex Party. She’s a very strong character, and prideful of throwing amazing parties; she’s trying to get me to say that her parties are better than West Coast parties by asking me how does this compare to SF. I’m too high to compliment the host, and tell her this space looks just like Sex parties I used to go to in Mission Control in SF, I’m not sure she got the answer she was looking for.

The party starts to thin out around 1:30 and that was the first sign that these are not hard-core partygoers. All of our parties go ALL NIGHT into the morning, in order to maximize playing with a few people. Jeffrey, veronica and I are still high, and I think they dose again on a few of the cocktail ingredients. I’m flying high and don’t need a re-buffer. We smoke cigarettes by the window, and a hot bitchy little Brazilian looking chic comes up to Veronica and they start reminiscing on how hot their girl on girl scene was; veronica ate the other chick’s pussy so hard she fell of the bench. Well perhaps talking about it got them going again, and soon enough veronica’s legs are spread wide open in all of her glory, and Nikki’s mouth is in between her legs, going to town, her fingers inside, veronica’s mouth grinning from ear to ear enjoying the pleasure. Eventually veronica makes it to the wooden floor, Nikki relentless in her giving, and her 4 inch heals up in the air, her legs towering above her giving her Agent Provocateur lingerie the best run for their money; one nipple popping out of the bra, screaming in orgasmic pleasure, her pussy getting eaten out by a total petite tan babe, I’m sure she could sell more underwear with that one shot than any of their other ad campaigns combined. I take a few snap shots of their experience, their washboard abs highlighted in red light, all blurred by their passion.

I thought my night was over, but amongst all of this pussy licking delight Wesley’s cock got all turned on. He’s extremely high, going on about how he’s not sure whether to….take me out to dinner, caress my face or fuck me. His brain is in a frenzied feed-back loop, going in and out of being aware of the moment; perhaps a side effect of being overly genius most of the time. We roll around on the floor in high flirtatious conversation, him telling me I’m the best, and appreciating how present I am. My friendship with jeffrey precedes our Romance, and once I’m a friend with someone it’s difficult for me to be romanced by them, which is completely different than being seduced. Him and I have only made love, fucked, had sex or whatever you want to call it twice before; all induced by various inspired psychedelics. Again, I have no idea how his cock ended up in my pussy, as in I don’t remember the making out before; but damn once it was in my entire body shot into outer space. The room completely disappeared; I knew there were at least 5 or 6 onlookers, but I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation. I had never felt his cock so hard and full, driving into me, and with each drive I scream out in delight. The onlookers distracted him once or twice, and he reported later that we had a cheering audience clapping to the rhythm of the fucking! His curiosity detracting from my pleasure, then he would return to his driving with fervent focus and willpower sending enlightened pleasure throughout my whole body.  Lights going off in my mind, I melted into a Euphoric Love Puddle.

We end the night by going back to Maggie’s sister place and having yet another 3-some…details left up to your imagination.

May 16^th Urth Café, Los Angles,  8:20pm

Examining, portraying and describing enlightened pleasure so that my reader may understand, feel, embrace and perhaps even receive someday is a task that I’m not sure I can fulfuill. What makes pleasure enlightening?! To the best of my Tantric ability I will attempt to describe the illumination of godly consciousness in every cell, an expansive peace penetrating my body; the feeling of trying to feel fading away, and this all-pervasive peace entering and filling my entire being. The Buddha wore an inner smile, and this deep inner smile overcame my being; yeah I was screaming with each force of Wesley’s cock hitting the edge of my pussy and physiologically not a whole lot is going on here. But the tantrics knew there is a psycho-energetic realm that is connected to the Infinite hard-wired into our being via the chakra system, which is just the arrangement of higher life intelligence inside our beings. It was as if his cock was reaching all the way up inside of my brain, spraying his come, which in the tantric system is called “Soma”, which the cultivation of and experience is the ultimate goal of yoga practice. It is the nectar of the gods, the substance that the demons and the angels fought after in Hindu scripture, a nectar so valuable that the demons and angels would have destroyed the entire universe seeking it. What laymen don’t know is that with subtle cultivation of energy whether through mediation, yoga, or drug-induced loved making, this Soma quality is released into the body, bringing greater awareness and a unity with reality which is ultimately euphoric!

We finished on the floor, packed up our belongings, and said our good-byes at the party, an ode to the human experiment of how animalistic we can actually be. I would say that I witnessed some random acts of human sexuality, of cocks pounding pussies, dicks in mouths and saliva dripping tongue-licking fun. But what touches the spirit and is imprinted in our psycho-energetic memory is the penetration of spirit through our sex; the millions upon millions of nerve endings communicating with the most complex known structure in the universe; the human brain.  The orgasm has the potential to be a transpersonal experience that bursts through the normal reality construct, melting down duality and giving our human brain a glimpse into Ultimate reality; where we are One, where our innate peace and Euphoric intelligence of orgiastic light pervades all time and space. This is the ground of the Sky Dancer; the Dakini, the realm of the Enlightened Feminine that can dance in between realms. 

Yearning to Surrender...An Attempt to be a Submissive.

February 3^rd, 2013

 To catch you up….

Wolfie and I lost touch after our first session because after arranging our second session, I called to tell him that I would be 30 min late because I was at the gym.

He found this unacceptable, because Wealthy Submissives would not be able to tolerate a late Domme, and neither would he. He’s a stickler on time and cut me out of his life because I was late. I told him I completely understood the concept of being accountable with time.

We didn’t speak for a month. I travel to New York.

My yoga teacher Mark Whitwell, author of "yoga of heart", repeatedly instructs on the important Concept of “strength receiving”, of the masculine actually gaining true power by receiving the feminine essence. This to him is the path of true healing in humanity; for the masculine has been taught to dominate, to obliterate and even disrespect the fragile feminine essence. When this happens, an entire society suffers, and we loose the great gift that a woman is; pure sensual expression. I believe that bdsm re-instills the importance of surrendering your power, and receiving the wishes of your chosen deity, or dominant. The sub receives strength through surrender, by completely letting go to reality; and sometimes that reality is excruciatingly painful, uncomfortable and in a normal dynamic undesirable. But when dedicating oneself to the Dom/Domme, when done for another person, when the sub knows the dominant is also gaining power by witnessing another being’s perfect surrender to reality, they also gain an embodied experience of strength receiving.  all of reality is a relationship between two opposing forces; pleasure and pain, dominant and submissive, male and female, solar and lunar. It’s extremely yogic, tantric even. All we have is the breath, in  a way that when we encarnate into a body all we have is duality. We cannot even exist without the exhale so that we may make room for the inhale. The sun cannot rise if it does not set. And the submissive cannot find this euphoric space without the expression of their feminine essence; pure service and surrender. Inherently the dominant (masculine) has no power if it is not willingly given. and true masculine power is not stolen, forced, or taken. It is not the domme’s job to prove their power to the submissive, nor is it eithical for them to beat their submissive until all their power is lost. There becomes a mutual trust and faith in one another, like sky diving knowing that the parachute is there to save your life. This is the amount of trust that you need to have in this powerful dynamic.

I contemplate these philosophies after I complete my task for my Master.

You won’t believe it. I met my new master-to-be on  AIrBNB while renting a place in the big apple.

After the cops (yes Cops) came to my door in my first sublet situation in ny, I knew I couldn’t stay there. The location was hot, and not in a good way; there were neighbor complaints about too many subletters coming and going with suitcases. Either way, I didn’t want any more run-ins with the cops so I had to leave my super cheap $650/week rental and pay twice as much somewhere else.

This led me to Agostino. He was renting a very simple brick wall studio in Hell’s kitchen in Manhattan.  After deliberating if that would be a good neighborhood for me, or if I wanted to be somewhere quainter, I put the $1500 bid on a week in his studio. He replied quickly and gave me the place.

we set up an arranged meeting time for him to give me the keys to the apartment. He jokes around with me while I’m in the cab on the way to his place,

“Don’t try to hit on me!”

“Hahaha no problem, don’t try to hit on me!”

“Ok deal, most women try to get me to sleep with them.” He says jokingly. Somehow I’m turned on by the fact that we shouldn’t hit on each other.

My head is kind of spinning because there’s nothing sexier then flirting when you know you’re not supposed to. In this case he was kind of like my “landlord” and me his tenant, and we are having a simple business exchange here. I give him money, he hands me the keys. Simple right?

“I’m tall, with Dark hair, I’ll be standing out front of the apartment.”

“Okay I’m turning left on 9^th street, be there in 2 minutes.” I get nervous as I approach this tall dark and handsome man that I am not supposed to have any attraction towards.

I get out of the cab, he greets me warmly, with salt and pepper hair and helps me with my many bags on this cold February Day in New York.

He lets me inside, shows me the apartment and stays just a little longer than he needs to, but not enough to make it unusual. We have a professional good-bye.

Bed-time rolls around and I crawl under the covers, but 20 minutes later I’m still cold under the blankets, shivering actually. I can’t seem to get warm and the heat is cranked up all the way and it’s not getting warm in the apartment. I text agostino,

“where do you get a space heater?”

“Seriously? Or are you just finding a reason to text me?”

“No I’m really cold!”

“Well the heater works great, but if you want me to bring you a space heater in the morning I will. Text me in the morning if you’re still cold.”

“Agreed…” I thought it was rather interesting he found an excuse to come back over.

“Well actually let me take you out to breakfast.”

I’m a Gemini, I never say no to spontaneous offers! I agree to meet him at 9 in the morning.

Now Agostino isn’t what I would usually go after.. He’s in his mid-40’s, has a son, salt and pepper hair and not necessarily a sculpted body. But he just has an air about him, like I want him to touch me, and that his hands would be hot against my skin and make me melt against his 6 foot 6 frame.

I go to sleep somewhat tickled and anticipating breakfast with agostino.

Ok so it’s 9am and he comes by the apartment. We start to walk the neighborhood on this grey, cold, and wet February morning. It’s drizzling on us and we don’t have an umbrella. We start to graze the blvds like hungry cows looking for a green patch of grass but can’t find any. Every decent restaurant didn’t open until 11am. We seriously couldn’t find a breakfast place open for the life of us! We eventually walked into times square and settled for some super generic hotel restaurant that looked over the blaring lights.

We are looking at each other though, and Time’s Square is looking at us. I’m not sure exactly how the conversation landed on domination, but after so much small talk I think I just said it,

“you’re a dom aren’t you?” I ask him after picking up on his energy.

“Yes women tend to want to submit to me. And I’m good at leading them in that direction.”

“What about you, what is you work here in Ny?”

“I’m a dome too.”

So there ya go. Just spilling the beans wherever I go and telling my air bnb landlord that I’ll be domming clients out of his place. Hahahahahaha.

He doesn’t flinch.

“oh yeah I’ve had girls see clients out of my places. They usually pay me extra though.”

We discuss a few more business ideas, he’s genuinely getting to know me. We finish our meal and walk back to “my” place, he walks me inside, we hug and he says good-bye. I guess we are still trying to maintain some sense of professionalism with each other.

Hours go by and I can’t stop thinking about Agostino. I want to know what it’s like to bow before a big strong man, to let go into his arms, to bear my white ass to his face while he smacks it to his liking. I want to give him this.

I text him; “Agostino, I want to submit myself to you”

“thought so. Ok we will start now.”

Wow, not what I had in mind but I’m down.

“I’m going to give you a series of tasks. Complete them in the next 3 days.”

“ok Yes Agostino.”

“Practice saying my name. Look it up online ‘ahhhh-Gus-Teeee-no’ record yourself saying my name and send it to me.

Write me a letter between 3-5 pages long. You will tell me something you don’t like about yourself, something you like about yourself, something you’re going through right now, and what kind of lover you’d think I would be in bed.

Watch porn on youporn. Send me your top 3 choices.

Get your nails done. Text me when you’re at the nail salon and I will pick your color. Tell them your master is picking the color for you.”

HOLY SHIT.

I had better get busy. As soon as I had a spare moment, I took the time to warm up my vocal chords and say his name in the voice memos of my iPhone. I have to say it gets the body all worked up and nervous to do this because you want to please your master so bad. All I wanted was to please him, to make him happy, to be a good sub for him.

I sent that away. He was pleased at the annunciation and the sultry quality to my voice when I said it.

Next I was to write him this letter. I used to write hand written letters all the time; it’s one of my favorite things to do. But in this day in age we never take the time or thought to put a pen to paper and send them something we touched with our hands.

On my way home from an outcall, I had the cab take me to a card shop near my neighborhood. One of my favorite things about ny is the convenience of all the shops and how you can find anything just about anywhere. I go into the card shop and look through the papers to find the one that suited my personality the most. It ended up being these butterfly and rose cards, and I bought the pack of 20 in which they were sold, which is way more than what I needed. A few new pens were in order as well.

I went home, lit a candle and meditated on what I was to write to him. I poured my heart out, and put pen to paper about this recent relationship that was ripping me up, how we’re not talking anymore, but I’m still in love with him. I’m actually still quite tender from this whole experience and I cry tears onto my letter. I let agostino have all of my confessions, I didn’t hold back.

I was to send the letter the next day, first thing, but it ended up being the 4^th thing.

In the morning, my mind can only think about submitting my heart-felt letter to my master. The order of events;

1.     .    rush out of bed, dress
2.         lipstick on lips, kiss letter, spray with extra         perfume. 
3.     .    run across the street, drop off my laundry. hold     onto letter like it’s sacred
4.          scour the street for a mailbox but can’t find one.
5.          get my morning juice and tea from Starbucks
6.        hop in a cab to go to my hair appointment with ty       (the other air bnb guy I met).

So I speed across the city, worried that my master is going to know that dropping off the letter wasn’t the first thing that I did that day. I land on the salon block, get out of the cab, only to find that ty is late. He’s not even there.  I rushed like a crazy person to be on time for no reason. Okay. Breathe. So I walk down the street, finding the perfect mailbox to finally drop off my confession letter to agostino. A weight is lifted off my shoulders, for I completed my task for my master, and I can’t wait for him to open and read the letter written from my heart and slightly damp from tears.

I sit in Ty’s salon chair (see blog entry Brownstone Apartment, Parlor Floor) and we decide to darken my faded red hair to a dark purple-brown with highlights in the front.  When my hair extensions arrive we will put the extensions in. Ty is always running late, always rushing and always stoned. Not sure if the combination is a winning success.

After finishing my hair I walk down to a popular market center to grab some lunch. It’s fashion week in Ny and there are gorgeous tall, thin and fashionable models everywhere in the market place. I’m feeling shy and inward and hungry. I grab a small salad from the first place I see, consume it, and I’m still starving. So I walk a little further and sit down and order another dish. There are two women sitting next to me discussing designer labels, which dresses they need in which color, and that if they get the Versace dress in green they can scratch the Gucci off their list. It’s absolutely an absurd conversation. I later learn theyare just on a shopping trip from Nashville, Tennessee. Their husbands must be rolling in the dough and wanted to send their wives away to have some fun I thought. They asked me if I was in the fashion industry.

“No,” I replied. “I’m a dominatrix.”

I watch the initial reaction on their faces; the shock reaction sets in, but not severely.

“Well that must be fun. I’m happy you found something you like doing.”

Even though they were being polite I could feel their discomfort with such a profession, and what they imagine it could entail. They leave the table and the male waiter who overheard our conversation smiles at me, acknowledging my female power and gusto to speak openly about myself.

I make my way back to Agostino’s apartment and complete my next task for him; to watch porn on YouPorn and send him the top 3 films that turn me on. I grab a couple of slices of pizza next door then settle in with my computer and doing my homework. This is a hilarious assignment, as I don’t usually watch porn and eat pizza. Actually I hardly do either ACTIVITY.  it makes me EXTREMELY uncomfortable; Trying to eat pizza of all things is even more hilarious while watching lewd sexual acts as I found I couldn’t chew and swallow. I put the pizza aside as I couldn’t stand to eat and I did my research project for agostino. I chose a film of a busty young blond getting in the bathtub and self-pleasuring herself. I find watching women in their natural state enjoying pleasure is one of the most beautiful things to witness; there’s no male imposing his dick on her, making her suck it, she’s not acting like she ‘s enjoying the act, because she is in control of the scene, and doesn’t do anything out of her comfort zone.

The other film that I remember was a foreign film, with actual acting, scenes and sets involved. The female actress was a brunette, busty and curvy, not the typical Barbie-thin representation with fake tits. She was wondering through the city streets and got picked up by two hot males whom proceeded to take her to a barn where they performed all kinds of sexual acts including double penetration. But what was maintained the entire time was the real display of her pleasure; even though the men were taking control, she was in the experience (or so it seemed) the entire time. She was enjoying her feminine sensuality through the male penetrative force.

I sent off my selections to agostino, knowing that he was getting deeper into my psychology and sexual desires as a woman. I have done many things, but double penetration not being one of them; so obviously this film fulfilled that sexual fantasy.  As agostino’s submissive, I always desire his recognition and approval; my wish is to please him, as my master.

The following day I book and see clients. I start to play these lifestyle domination tactics with them; when they would book an appointment I would send them an email with a naughty photo of myself along with instructions on what they were to do before our session together. My new subs were to write down on a piece of paper in red ink that they belonged to me, That their heart was mine, their body was mine, that they would dedicate themselves to me. Then they had to take a picture OF THE DOCUMENT TO THE LOVE MISTRESS and send it to me. Next MY SUBS were to escape away form the daily grind as soon as possible (most were at work) and touch their cock until it became hard and send me a picture of it. They were not to work themselves up to orgasm, as I wanted all of their sexual energy to be as potent as possible when they arrived. One sub I had put a quarter in his shoe and WAS to walk around the entire day thinking of me, his mistress, and to step on the quarter when he wanted to intensify the feeling.

So here I was communicating and pleasing my master, agostino, then running some of the same domination tactics to multiple submissives at THE SAME time. My Gemini brain was on overdrive, I couldn’t type fast enough to each of them, nor could I keep it all straight. How did I prioritize my energy? Did I put my master first, or was I to be responsible to all of my submissives? The brain is not meant to simultaneously be in sub and dom space at the same time. I couldn’t handle it. It was like I was turning 8 wheels at a time and I only have two hands so I was constantly having to spin the wheels so they didn’t loose rotation or momentum, but I couldn’t keep up with it all. I had a complete psychological mishap of who I was, what I was supposed to be doing, which role I was playing, which to me experientially occupy different centers of my brain. It was as if I flipped a switch on all of the centers, and they all lit up with neon lights and it was so blinding I couldn’t see anymore. Have you ever been on too much ecstasy or acid to the point where your brain starts hurting? I needed to come down from all of these games, and fast or I was going to burn out. And I did.

Man after man came in to see me, and each time I would play a slightly different game with him, get into his psychology at a different angle, and of course always heavily seducing them. I could feel my desire to be around the masculine dwindle, my life force start to become depleted, and this is when energetically things can be taken from you.

I continued my yoga practice as this is the best way that I know how to replenish myself.

And then Valentine’s day rolled around. I was sensually taxed. My tactics weren’t working as powerfully, and my charm began to dwindle.

Meanwhile I started to communicate with Wolfie again (we had a falling out after our first session together). I texted him out of the blue and said  “I miss you.”

He texted me back and replied, “I miss you too. Hearing from you is such a relief and just your text make s my dick stand straight up.”

And so, after a month of not speaking, to wolfie, my SUB, he’s re-dedicates himself to me. I start these tactics on him, and this is when he gave his chastity up to me; while I was entirely on the other side of the country and I wasn’t going to be with him for two weeks. He gave his cock to me. I owned it; he couldn’t get off without my permission, nor could any other woman touch his member. This is power that of course pleased me and terrified me; can I handle this great responsibility of taking on a real sub who dedicates a real part of his life for me?

I wrote to Wolfie at night, and requested a letter from him, just as Agostino had requested a letter from me. I put a slightly different twist on it and requested that Wolfie tell me of his first love. And share what kind of dynamic he would like to have with me. He was to seal this intention and dedication to me by coming on the last page. I couldn’t wait to receive this letter. And I've acquired yet another sub while trying to be submissive to one man. heh.

Now back to Agostino; I had three more tasks to complete for him before our “date” on Saturday night where I was to feel his hands on my body; where he was going to spank me for his pleasure, where I was going to bow before my master and do what pleased him.

His request was to work myself to orgasm and record my voice saying his name while I was coming. I also suggested that I send him a video of me touching my pussy. He agreed that was a fine idea. So after domming my subs, I lay down at the end of a busy day, to re-inspire this energy between my dom and i. Even though I enjoy my role as a domme immensely, at the end of the day my deep yearning is to surrender; to completely let go, to not think, not direct, but to be in my natural feminine state. It takes more energy sometimes to be on the top, to have the left-brain working, directing the scene; it is a very masculine place to be in. I wanted to experience my full femininity with agostino; I craved the depth of sensation of simply falling and always being caught in strong hands.

I worked myself up to coming and have to admit the inherent awkwardness in trying to enjoy an orgasm and saying someone’s name at the same time. it is a powerful way of putting an intention into your sexual energy and dedicate it to your master.  In a way he, the master, becomes the deity that I worship. It is a living exchange of divinity if you so choose to revere this rare and unique dynamic between humans. Reverence, discipline, obedience; these are all things that the western mind rarely experiences. We are all rebels paving our own path, listening to no one, adhering to no doctrine, and worship is something that you may only do on Sundays. The correct bdsm exchange can be an avenue in which to experience the extraordinary invisible realms of our psyche, and when pushed far enough, to our divinity.

I take so much pleasure in other’s satisfaction, that it gives me satisfaction. It is a mutual symbiotic relationship into intensified bliss. The power of bdsm just polarizes reality even more-so than normal reality so that we can experience non-duality. So that we can come to this peaceful space within ourselves that we were never actually separate. That we are actually unified with all that is.