Dear Friend:  we
   Are operating at capacity
and cannot
   supply a green and grassy spot
for your tomb,
   as there is no more room. 

Instead, you are invited to entrust
   your dust
To our space-age morticians, who seal
   in stainless steel
(thanks to post-Newtonian science)
   our clients. 

Whereupon you
   (and all your shiny loved ones, too)
shall ascend
   via chartered rocketship, to spend
eternity
   very near where Heaven used to be.

***

Ms. Taylor’s website.

You Can Keep Good Man Down

At least sometimes.

While we will be getting to Romantic Humiliation presently, let’s start here: If you’re not familiar with Erotic Humiliation as a subdivision of Female Domination, well you just might be missing something. Remember the Golden Rule of Kink: He who fucks with glass condoms shouldn’t throw stones. (Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it. Or even if you have.)

Before you get yourself worked into some superior kink-tizzy, let me tell you something: I did not come to Erotic Humiliation easily nor with any willingness to even learn about it. Even lil’ me has been rejected by a lover or two and I just couldn’t get my head or heart around inflicting (what I perceived as) emotional pain upon another human being. This was not domination to my then way of thinking–this was some warped version of meritless and pointless abuse; a bizarre, convoluted circumstance of reverse misogyny.

But a most interesting thing began happening with my gentlemen submissives. Their fantasies were evolving. For while they still craved and appreciated my tried and true verbal counsel to take my strap-on up their asses, worship my cunt, suck large cocks, wear my panties, submit to cuckolding, and so much more, they now wanted me to escalate the rush with name calling, sneering, spitting and even public embarrassment. They wanted to HEAR their domination and many times even yearned for others to witness it.

And guess what? Once I tried it, I was hooked. I fell in love with the entire game of it. After all I am and always have been since I was knee high to a grasshopper, first and foremost, a woman of words. So I jumped right into the filthy world of FemDom Mud Slinging, where the Goddess, interestingly enough, always stays spotless. Since then, I’ve been–with that specialized group of callers–dishing out verbal venom in spades and even clubs, hearts and diamonds.

In fact, I’ve been so enthusiastic and defensive in regard to these particular fantasies that I was tapped by Gracie Passette to write about them (Erotic Humiliation is not an Oxymoron) for Sex Kitten Presents the BDSM Issue.

So there I was, business as usual, dragging those (small … always small) dicks through the mud when a new species of humiliation junkies began emerging from the primordial swill. Evolution, once again, dontcha know?

First a smattering: one here or there, then two, then three, four…Then more: Showing up on the doorstep of my virtual dungeon with their submissive tails between their legs, BUT with their hearts on their sleeves, stars in their eyes and bearing chocolates, flower bouquets, diamond rings and even wedding bands. They wanted to be loved and adored and treasured and cherished by–and many times even married to–the very same girl who was going to kick their psychological asses.

And who better for the task? Giggle.

Make no mistake about it: Erotic Humiliation and Romantic Humiliation are not one and the same. Erotic humiliation is edgier, crueler and inflicted in a cold, even haughty, manner. The Mistress or Princess or Goddess usually exhibits very little emotional connection to her victim. If she does reveal any affection, it is more along the lines of what someone would show toward a favorite pet. This occurs more often with the Princess type of Erotic Humiliation fantasies, which is perfectly understandable if you consider the obvious dynamics involved when an oft-times older man is obeisant to a young and usually immature but charmingly bratty Princess.

With Romantic Humiliation there is commonly a deep love and respect shared by the Dominant and Submissive. The wife or girlfriend values and even cherishes her loved one’s intelligence, sense of humor, devotion and other redeeming, even desired, qualities. Unfortunately, despite their emotional commitment to each other, the man just cannot deliver the goods when it comes to the sexual part of their relationship.

And being his best buddy and soul mate, this woman has no choice but to continually, yet very gently and lovingly, remind him of his inadequacy. Otherwise he might forget or pretend differently, which could cause him all sorts of problems. And, after all, honesty is the best policy–particularly between two people who love each other. Right?

Ahem.

Some examples? Sure, why not?

• Darling Frank. Please Honey. Don’t try to rub that flaccid thing on me. You know you can’t sustain an erection for any length of time and you’ll just end up frustrated. And I hate seeing you like that.. Why don’t you put it away for now?
• Now what are you doing? Looking at pornography again? Baby, what do you plan on doing with that little hard-on? There is no possible way you can satisfy me or any woman with your little wee wee. We’ve discussed it time an again, Aaron. Why look at those huge cocks servicing all those beautiful girls? It will just upset you. Now come over to the chair and I’ll let you rub it on my foot for a little bit. That will make you feel better.
• Carl, darling. Come sit by me; I have something to talk to you about. This isn’t going to be easy, Angel, and I want you to know that I say it because I love you with all of my heart. Remember when the pool boy was here the other day? And he had on those tight spandex shorts? You were watching him through the window and all of a sudden you got an erection. And I have to say, my love, that it was stiffer than any erection you’ve ever had when you were fucking me. You do know that, don’t you? You wanted to suck his cock, didn’t you?
• Oh, Joseph, do you need to ejaculate again? How can those little peanuts of yours fill up so fast? I guess because they’re so tiny. When I think about Tyson and how full and hard those big black balls get right before he pumps his load into me… Well, there simply is no comparison. Go get your cum cup and I’ll jerk you off into it. Okay? Would you like that, sweetie? Then we can go out to dinner and a movie.
• Honey, you can hump me through my panties, but hurry up. You know that Sarah and I are going shopping for shoes. It’s so cute when you squirt your little goo goo on them. While you are doing that, I am going to call Sarah. You just go right ahead. Hello, Sarah? Of course you can come over now. Robert was just, well, you know! I’ll hurry him up. It never takes him long anyway. Just a little squirt and he’s done.

So, do you kinda-sorta get the picture?

If you’re an intrigued female just dying to give this a whirl, I would advise that you don’t try this at home, unless your lover/husband/boyfriend has been forewarned–because while it can be extremely hot, all parties need to know the game rules. And guess what? I do believe there is a very real chance that said loved one might actually surprise you with his enthusiasm.

And if you’re a guy reading this who’s suddenly found the room sweltering and you had to loosen your collar? Silly Wabbit, what are you waiting for? Give me a call, why dontcha?

xo, Angela

Although today’s entry does not refer to kinky, weird sex–it sure looks that way, doesn’t it? So a few words before I move onto what this is really about:

Whether or not it’s your particular cup of T (as in Taboo), some men (perhaps women–they’re not my client demographic so I wouldn’t know), incorporate a surprising variety of animals into their sexual fantasies. It’s not about the beast, mind you. It’s about the dirtiness of it all.

So that in fantasy…they can push themselves beyond the edge of filthiness and straight into deviant perversion, having an exquisitely intense orgasm. In real life…the same idea is usually beyond repugnant to them. Thank goodness. More often than not, they will be the first to report an instance of animal neglect, cruelty or abuse.

While some fantasies may be outside of my comfort zone, I do respect and support a person’s right to fantasize about any thing they damn well please. If they are smart enough to keep fantasy separate from reality–and most are–then, by all means, have at it.

So now you know. Probably more than you wanted to know. Let’s move on.

***

What I really wanted to bring up: Planet Earth (And, yes, that is a link so be sure to click it.) If you haven’t caught up with this series yet, you really are missing out. Personally speaking, I am seriously hooked. Airing on The Discovery Channel and narrated by Sigourney Weaver, this eleven part, environmentally reverent documentary is living up to the preliminary buzz, proving to really be as mesmerizing as it is educational.

Due to advancements in technology (including satellite photography and high definition production) and the producers’ commitment to quality (“more than five years in the making”) viewers are privy to natural wonders rarely or never before seen. Have you ever seen a snow leopard stalking his prey through the dangerous crags and steep slopes of the Himalayas? Did you know that a cross between a donkey and a zebra is correctly referred to as either a zonkey or a zebrass?

There is so much to see and learn from watching this series that I cannot possibly do it justice within the scope of this blog. From an underwater glimpse of swimming elephants to a peek at male birds of paradise strutting their stuff to attract a female (some things never change, eh?), everything is vividly spectacular, beautiful and overwhelming.

If you can’t catch the series or even if you can–new episodes air Sunday nights with repeats during the week–you can order the DVD set which includes a bonus installment, The Future.

Prepare to be amazed. And moved to save our beloved and threatened planet…before it is too late.

xo, Angela

….is what we are doing today.

***

What I’ve been thinking in the aftermath of the Election Day Massacre, the booting of Rummy and Haggard’s outing is that, although I’ve been thinking bunches, so has everybody else and they’ve been blogging like crazy about it. So I will refrain from opining here about all of that.

Except to say the sleaziness of it all is quite disgusting (what Molly Ivans calls “a race to the bottom“), and it’s about time both parties got over themselves to –instead of having to win at all costs– meet somewhere in the middle. Middle is good, don’t ya know? I kinda-sorta think it is what the original plan was, don’t you?

***

“Meeting in the Middle” is something I’ve been thinking about a lot recently in regards to Adult bloggers, webmasters and webmistresses, a group which would include myself. In case you don’t know what’s going on, what started out as a sincere attempt to protect children who might be victims of sexual exploitation/abuse has been twisted into an all out “War on Pornography.” And it’s not pretty.

But the basic premise, that children need protection, is a good thing. I am just wishing that the Anti-Porno Warriors and Adult Providers would each stop trying to win and would rather sit down and negotiate some sort of middle ground. That’s all. Is it asking too much?

***

Coming soon: Vanilla Savant will be joining my Savant collection.

***

Have you been keeping up with Mistress V? Besides being gorgeous, dominant and sexy, Mistress V is right-on, take-no-prisoners smart. Reading her blog is always an adventure. As when recently she so astutely commented on a certain not-so-angelical Evangelist. And then there is her “sweevilicious” take on Carmamel Apple Wraps. No wonder she has so many daily readers. Simply superior in every way.

***

I got to discussing Christopher Walken with a caller and he agreed with me that Mr. Walken is frickin’ awesome (and he is: don’t argue with me/us). Mentioned was the New York Times article (which neither of us can find now) noting that even though most of Walken’s films are less than stellar, he is beloved by most of the movie-going public.

And, of course, there is Mr. Walken’s turn as video star for Fat Boy Slim’s Weapon of Choice, which won six MTV Awards and “best video of all time.” And who can not love the his ongoing SNL stint as The Continental?

Anyway, said caller has changed his NF member name to The Continental, which just tickles me to no end.

Champagn-ia, anyone?

xo, Angela

Today we finish up Richard’s piece which he’s so generously shared with Zen Fetish.

If you haven’t done so already, be sure to read Part I and Part II before continuing. It’s been interesting reading commentary/reaction to the first two parts, which seems to reflect a bit of confusion regarding Richard’s purpose in writing this bit of “specualtive D/s Fiction.”

But it really isn’t that complicated. As Richard explains (click link to read more): “I wrote it many years ago to give dominant women that I met online a picture of my perception of Femdom relationships.” Anyway, let’s see how this “Imaginary Femdom Encounter” turns out:

Fantasy Mistress: Part III

As I went up the walkway I wondered how she’d test me today. And what the tests proved. And when they’d end. We actually exchanged a fair amount of email before she’d agreed to see me. We shared complimentary appetites: she like to do to men what I wanted done to me (or at least I thought: since I’d never done any of it I didn’t really know).

The door opened for the third time.

“Go to the back yard and wait for me.”

As I did so I wondered if she was going to have me mow or lawn. The fear of something like that dampened my enthusiasm but I couldn’t bring myself to stop now.

She walked out. Dressed in a pullover top, cut-off jeans, and cheap rubber sandals, “flip flops” my mother used to call them. She’d always been dressed casually before but I’d been too hyped up to really notice the actual clothes.

She went over to a pick-nick table made of greenish wood.

“Sit here. Put your right hand’s palm down on the table.”

As I complied I noticed a wooden ruler in her hand.

“You are to keep your hand flat. I’m going to give you ten strokes. If that is too much for you leave and don’t come back.”

I barely had time to steel myself before the first slap hit. But it wasn’t that bad. At first. By the fifth stroke it really stung. My fingers felt like I might not be doing much with them tomorrow but it was almost over. I thought. An eleventh stroke hit me. A twelfth. With the thirteenth she turned the ruler so the edge cut into my fingers.

I yanked my hand away.

When I realized what I’d done I wanted to cry. I’d failed and would have to leave. But when I looked at her she looked pretty pleased.

“Don’t worry, you weren’t supposed to be able to take the last one. Once you got past the first ten you’d passed the test. The others were to teach you that no matter what I say I’m going to do I can still do whatever I want.”

“You have one last test. Come with me.” Shortly we were back in the room whose corner I’d knelt in. This time there was a big wicker plantation style chain in the center. She sat in it.

“Come here, may kneel in front of me. Remember you still aren’t to speak.”

So excited I was trembling I did.

“You have no idea how many men want to be where you are now. But they don’t really want it badly enough. They don’t really want to serve.

“The first day you proved you were willing to work for you place in my service. Yesterday you showed enough determination to withstand boredom which was a much harder test. Today you had your first taste of pain. I like hurting men. If you hadn’t been able to take it you wouldn’t be suitable for me. This is your last test.

“You won’t think it hard when I tell you but it will take all of your willingness work work and to keep on even if you get bored or tired.

“I am very, very slow to orgasm. Your last test is to satisfy me with your tongue. You probably think this is a big treat.” She was right about that.

“But it will take longer than you think. If you manage it we’ll do all the things we wrote to each other about. Otherwise, you won’t have made the grade.”

Standing up she pulled off her top and dropped her shorts. She sat back down. Gesturing at her cunt she said “Get to work, slave.”

She was right. It was long. It was wonderful at first. Then it took all my determination to keep going. At the end it was wonderful again. And then I was hers.

***

What this story says to me more than anything is that Richard is most definitely not a wannabe sub. He is the REAL DEAL. And it also tells me that he is truly deserving of the title, Submissive Savant.

In the very near future I will be featuring another “fantasy” penned by Richard. A bit different than this one. Quite intriguing and of interest to more than a few of my callers and readers.

xo, Angela