Albeit, an erudite worm.

An email:

I am just part of the coterie of obsequious sycophants … a cog in the grist mill.  Only Masa Harina tortilla corn flour for you, Miss Angela St. Lawrence.

Stomp me like grapes for the Must.

I ferment for you!

Sincerely, Tiny Wee Wee

I do love a smart boy who knows how to grovel with such flamboyance.

ingratiating, kowtowing,  bondservant  =  Deliriously Happy Mistress

It’s been a very good day.

Goodnight, Darlings.

What did the cuckoldress …

… say to the farmer?

(And just quite possibly gave him a boner.)

A chicken farmer goes to a local bar,  sits down next to a woman and orders a glass of champagne.

The woman perks up and says, “How about that? I just ordered a glass of champagne too!”

The farmer smiles and says, “Really? What a coincidence! This is a very special day for me, so I’m celebrating.  What about you?”

“This is a special day for me too.  So I’m also celebrating,” says the woman.

“What a coincidence,” says the farmer, “here we are, both drinking champagne, both at the same bar, both celebrating. This calls for a toast.”

As they clinked glasses the man asks, “What are you celebrating?”

“My husband and I have been trying for years to have a child and today my gynecologist told me that I am pregnant!”

“What a coincidence,” says the man. “I’m a chicken farmer and for years all of my hens were infertile, but today they are all laying fertilized eggs.”

“Well jolly good for you,” says the woman. “How did your chickens become fertile?”

“I used a different cock,” the farmer replies.

The woman smiles and says, “What a coincidence.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Cuckold Phone Sex Goddesses

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1-800-863-5478
ext: 03503814

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Mistress Eden

Strap On & Cuckold Humiliation

1-800-863-5478
ext: 0382808

From the NiteFlirt Website:

What is NiteFlirt?

NiteFlirt is the place where you can Speak to Your Desire™!

There are never any hidden fees on NiteFlirt — you only pay for what you want, when you want it! And privacy is our thing. We never reveal your personal information to anyone, not even the Flirt you are calling. Your information is safe and secure, and we bill your credit card discreetly as “NF Services.”

Can NiteFlirt employees listen to my calls?

Never! In keeping with our stringent Privacy Policy, all your calls and all your personal information are always completely private.

Will people be able to see my phone number?

Never! To begin a call, we call both parties and then connect them. Whether you’re a Flirt or a customer, the only thing anyone ever sees is your Member Name and the listings you’ve created. Your phone number is never revealed to the other party, even if they have Caller ID.

Can people search for me by using my real name or email address?

NiteFlirt does not disclose your name or your email address with your account or listings. Members are only able to search for specific individuals by running a search for their Member Name.

______________________________________________________

I personally believe NiteFlirt is the best platform for my callers to use.  I researched a long time before choosing to run my service through them.  I did it for you. Aren’t you lucky?

xo, Angela

Doing the Phone FemDom thing, when you screw with me, I will cut you to the bone.  I will make fun of your flaccid, useless penis, kick you in the balls, tell all your friends about your weird fetish for snot balloons, take a strap-on to your quivering ass, or maybe even coerce you into admitting your penchant for Man Sperm despite your trophy wife, two-car garage and white picket fence.

I will right-in-your-face cheat on your loser ass while you kneel helplessly at the side of the bed, The Humbler firmly in place, a constant reminder of your diminished status.  I will feed you your own load, clip you,  clamp you, tie you, beat you, denigrate you, punish you, hurt your, defile you, embarrass you …

… well, you get the picture.

But I’m not always in FemDom mode; and I certainly don’t EVER believe that creating Female Domination FANTASIES gives me or anyone else the right to be rude, catty, and/or downright stupid.  Integrity matters ALWAYS.  And some gals just don’t have it.   And so there’s this, which I wrote a while ago to a certain person who knows exactly who she is and what she did.

it sucks to be you

you’re a fucked up fraulein:
a plain-jane low-rent coward
bending over for cake crumbs
whispering and pointing and snarling
it sucks to be you

you’re a flimflam malingerer:
a hardscrabble box-of-bitch
kissing ass for nickles
sniffing and scratching and digging
it sucks to be you

you’re a wannabe who never was:
weightless and incidental
polishing apples for illegal tender
creeping and bowing and scraping
it sucks to be you

you’re a prayer-less maobite:
always outside looking in
falling all over your sorry self
crawling and grasping and whining
it sucks to be you

you’re a masticating pit bull:
ugly as sin and three times stupid
humping for your kibble and bits
snarling and chawing and slobbering
it sucks to be you

you’re an emaciated vampiress:
starving on the rancid bloat of envy
selling your abscessed flesh for scraps
mewling and whimpering and cringing
it sucks to be you

you’re a cheap trick in a shabby dress:
a bumbling beatitude of bad taste
licking boots for pennies on the dollar
fawning and kowtowing and abjuring
it sucks to be you

you’re a mercenary seductress:
salad-tossing your exiguous integrity
spreading your legs for niggardly churls
anguishing and bewailing and deprecating
it sucks to be you

you’re a counterfeit salome:
crossing your fingers behind your heart
putting out for the price of a song
sneaking and rooking and shafting
it sucks to be you

you’re the monkey on your own back:
the motherfucker of bad intention
fucking and sucking for peanuts
again and again and again
it sucks to be you

you’re a vagabond floozy:
a facsimile behind dime store lipstick
on your knees with your squalid mouth
swallowing and swallowing and swallowing
it sucks to be you

you’re a sideshow roustabout:
a blow-up doll for the midway rubes
flexing and opening at the drop of a hat
shifting and crooking and undulating
it sucks to be you

you’re a pink-collared hireling
nothing more and much more less
faking bastard orgasms on the bum
feigning and spoofing and dissembling
it sucks to be you

you’re an off-the-shelf goddess:
an unkempt tragedy of vassal-hood
giving it up for swill and slop
ravening and itching and craving
it sucks to be you

but most of all
you are what you aren’t:
and you will never be me

♥————–♥

Oh yeah, I was fuming.  And thanks to Mr. Boston for reminding me of this poem and wanting to know all the juicy behind-the-scenes gossip.   Not that he got any.  Gossip, that is.  Integrity counts, Mr. Boston!  Even if you are kneeling in front of me masturbating while I’m showing you video of your girlfriend with the CFO of your company.  *wink*

We will open the book. Its pages are blank.
We are going to put words on them ourselves.
The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year’s Day.

~ Edith Lovejoy Pierce

Maybe it points to a developing maturity, but this is the first year I really “got” how important celebrating the end of one year and the beginning of another really is.  It’s never been about the partying for me (my first two years as a legal adult taught me the best place to be is home on New Year’s Eve), but I just never felt the deep connection to the past or awe for the future suddenly upon my doorstep.

Things are changing in my life, and Christmas this year — usually my favorite holiday — was somewhat bittersweet.  I looked around at the people I love, this family who with all their foibles and eccentricities have always been the comfort and joy of my holidays, and knew that there is a very real possibility some or even all of them might not be with me next year.

My big brother is taking early retirement to work on an internet business with his wife and plans (when he can sell his loft for a reasonable price) to move across the country.  My mother, who’s been in a wheelchair these past few years after suffering a stroke, seems to be rapidly going downhill.  The familiar patterns of my life could be drastically rearranged come 2013.

Or the Mayans could be right and as of 12/21/2012 we could all be fucked, and not even make it to 2013.  I actually do think — considering the worldwide natural disasters, social discontent and economic upheaval of recent years — the potentiality is there and maybe even is necessary as a mechanism for cleansing the slate in preparation for spiritual and social progression.

So, yeah, I’ve been contemplating, introspecting, considering, imagining and evaluating quite a bit this past week.  I don’t have answers, nor do I want answers.   I just want to be present and accountable.  I want to be always grateful.  To be grateful and resolutely confident that the world’s story unfolds as it should.  As does the adventure of my life and the adventure of the lives of those I love.

……………………………………………………..

So, was that heavy enough for you?  Well, I meant every word.

BUT …

Do not think for a moment I’ve abandoned my title, Kinkstress Princess of the Internet*, nor the inherent responsibilities of holding said title.  I did get around, I do get around … and, apparently, so do you.  “You” being my Phone Sex Clients, FemDomme Bitch Boys, Chronic Masturbators, Cross-Dressing Trollops et al.  Because I did run a New Year’s Eve Discount and you showed up in droves.

If you’re not a client, you are not on my NiteFlirt email list and did not receive the special notice.  That was not my intent, as I planned on announcing it here at Zen so that everybody who wanted to could take advantage of my most-fab KISS KISS BANG BANG discount.  Unfortunately, there were technical issues with my hosting company yesterday and — with the calls coming so fast and hard (not to mention the guys *wink*) I couldn’t out-wait the issues to get a post put up.  So here’s kinda-sorta what you would have seen:

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Ring in the New Year with Angela: $1.00 OFF per minute!

As many of you know, I love spending a cozy New Year’s Eve at home.  As is my tradition, I’m dressing up in my red stockings & heels, popping a bottle (or maybe even two bottles) of champagne and settling in front of my fireplace for a night of indulgence.

I’d love to hear from you. Call to talk dirty, or tell me the New Year resolutions you will be breaking next week, or admit how drunk you are, or whisper your perfect kinky fantasy, or drink a New Year’s toast with me, or even just to shoot the breeze.  If we’ve not spoken before, or if we haven’t spoken for a while … don’t be shy.  While I love being pampered, I do love treating my callers every once in a while, and this is a great night to do it.

You must call this listing to get the discount. 

or call direct:    1-800- 863-5478  ext. 0331122

……………………………………………………………………………………………

But as I said, the boys who did receive the emails did keep me busy, busy, busy.   So busy that I had a line of eight lined up waiting for their turn at 2:30 a.m.  I finally had to call it a night.

But is that fair?  The email went out late, this website wouldn’t cooperate so I could announce it here and then there are the guys who were otherwise engaged and couldn’t have called anyway.

Soooo ….

Here’s the good news:  I am extending the discount throughout tonight and for as much of tomorrow as I can.  At a certain point, I do get tired and the vocal cords do get a little raw and I have to take a break.  But I do promise to be available as much as possible these two days.   So call your Mistress and give her a little sugar.  She just might give you some right back. *wink*

xo

*Term bestowed upon me by a certain gentleman caller.  I kinda-sorta like it and think I’ll keep it.