Okay … so I’m kinda sorta cranky.  But you have to admit — even you REAL men, GOOD men, SMART men — that SOME men just are an embarrassment to your gender.  Come on, you know it’s true.  So for the sake of good fun and to concurrently aid in shaking off my bitchiness, I’ve come up with a short list.  It could be a long list, so count your blessings.  I’ll refrain from emasculating the obvious —  Bill Clinton who gets a boner every time he passes a trailer park or John Ascroft who apparently gets a stiffie for aluminum nipples.

There’s plenty of others who’ve been rubbing me the wrong way … and when a FemDom Goddess (wink) gets irritated she just starts thinking evil thoughts about what she’d like to do or see be done to the offenders!  On a day like this I think the world itself would be a better place if a certain segment of its inhabitants were just finally, once-and-for-all, forced into panties with a butt plug shoved up their ass for good measure.  Going so far as to cuckold all of them, though, would be problematic:  If we cuckold all of them,  who would we cuckold them with?  Hmmm …  Seems the fantasy is NOT reality, after all.  Who knew?

Anyway this all started the other day when Rick Sanchez showed up at CNN in his regular time slot.  Say what you want about the election, it got me interested in THE NEWS.  Before Obama I was your typical twenty-something wannabe Princess type, worrying more about my pedicures and the perfect seasonal purse (never did find a good white one this summer) than the political landscape.  So — all in all — it’s been a rather good thing  … except the television is on around here a lot more than it used to be, as CNN — rather than classical rock — is now the background noise to my days.

But when Sanchez shows up, well, he is so weigtless and artificial that I’ve gotten to where I actually turn off  or at least mute the TV.  What in the hell is he doing?  Twittering and Face Booking and reading user comments … there’s just no substance here!

Then there’s the guy who sent me this email yesterday:  My best friend is Mr. X.  I masturbate to him all the time and he has no idea. I love talking about him via email and giving out REAL information about him.  Now I ask you readers, is that creepy or what?  Who does this asshole think he is to give out real info about anybody he knows, regardless of whether he jerks off to thoughts of them or not?  Particularly to a PSO, whom he knows nothing about.  And you can bet this email was copy and pasted into to dozen of emails and sent to dozens of girls.  Bleh.  If anything, he should give me his own real info, so I can tell Mr. X (and, yeah, I substituted the Mr. X for the real name), and everyone you know, what a loser pervert you are.

Wes Hayden, the cowboy contender on this year’s The Bachelorette, certainly deserves to have his fucking rights taken away.  Maybe even some enforced chastity.  If you weren’t watching (now that I TiVo, there’s a little too much of what I normally wouldn’t watch being recorded), Wes was one smooth talker (and country singer) who admitted openly that he was really there to promote his career.  And while his motives have since been debated ad nauseum all over the net, he did at least hint on more than one occasion that he already had a longterm girlfriend waiting back in Texas.  What a dirtbag!  And he was so smarmy … singing and twanging his acoustic guitar (geetar?) under Jillian’s balcony ala Romeo and Juliet.   Which might have been at least somewhat charming if he had any serious talent, rather than just being able to carry a tune.  Oh, and apparently, he’ll do anything for a buck.

Of course, I’ve just got to include the boorish and doltish Jon Gosselin, of Jon and Kate Plus 8, who abandoned his not-so happy-nest to trip the light fantastic with other D List not-so-super stars while schtupping  his (now ex) wife’s doctor’s daughter.  Maybe he thinks the earrings make up for his rude and crude (not to mention very public) behavior; I think he’s a loser putz of a man.  Yes, Kate was bossy and overbearing.  But when you have a puerile, self-centered numbskull who can’t hold a job for a husband, you really don’t have much of a choice.  I mean, after all, someone has to wear the pants!  A&E really needs to get around to changing the name of that show.  Possibly to Kate Plus 8?  Better yet and more accurately:  Kate Minus Wimp-Ass Whiner Boy Plus Eight.  And good for her and the kids because now they really will live happily ever after.  Good riddance to rubbish and dead weight.

And one more.  Just one more to cuckold.  At least for today.  You see I was sneaking down the book aisle at my grocery store the other day, even though I promised myself that I’d steer clear of all things hardback and paperback until I at least read at least ten of the hundred or so books I have piled here and there.  … and there.    and maybe there.  I didn’t buy a book, but I was amazed at what I saw among the hardbacks.  Which was UNMASKED:  THE FINAL YEARS OF MICHAEL JACKSON, by Ian Halperin.  Shame on him!  Could he get that book out fast enough after MJ died?  Talk about cashing in.  SCUM!  I checked out this poor-excuse-for-a-writer (he writes exposes … bleh!) at Amazon and … surprise!  The book only gets two out of five stars.  Goody.  And you can bet I would cuckold his ass.

Ahhhhh  … I feel much better now.

xo, Angela

Five Star CUCKOLD PHONE SEX:

Cindy Supreme

Saucy Housewife

Dr. Joy

Texas Bell

Sexism
David Lehman

The happiest moment in a woman’s life
Is when she hears the turn of her lover’s key
In the lock, and pretends to be asleep
When he enters the room, trying to be
Quiet but clumsy, bumping into things,
And she can smell the liquor on his breath
But forgives him because she has him back
And doesn’t have to sleep alone.

The happiest moment in a man’s life
Is when he climbs out of bed
With a woman, after an hour’s sleep,
After making love, and pulls on
His trousers, and walks outside,
And pees in the bushes, and sees
The high August sky full of stars

And gets in his car and drives home.

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Thanks to PQS, whose appreciation of poetry delights me to absolutely no end.  Because he used to make fun of my "poetry thing."  And now he’s a gleeful and eager confederate.  You can read more about Mr. Lehman HERE.  And did you know he wrote a poem for Obama’s inauguration?  Well he did, and you can see him read it HERE.

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Phone Sex Quote of the Day

A contract of mutual self-delusion exists between the caller and the phone sex operator.  The caller imagines he is speaking to his most secret fantasy — and whatever it might be — animal, vegetable or mineral, the operator willingly plays the part.

Phillip Toledano (Phone Sex: The Book)

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Phone Sex Babes of the Day

Young Ashley:  She never says no!

Hot Hanna:  She will do anything to please her Master!

Frannie the Trannie:  Forced Bi and Sissy Training!

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Okay … that’s all for today.  Off to gamble with my mother.  Wish me well, cross your fingers and your toes.  And call soon.

xo, Angela

A sub-fetish of Erotic Humiliation, Penis Humiliation is the hottest thing in Phone Sex these days.  And while some readers might think this an odd fantasy/fetish/kink, most Phone Sex Operators are quite used to it and actually have a lot of fun with it. 

Think of it as a form of VERBAL BDSM.  I mean, after all, the Phone Domme can’t really use whips and chains and Ben Gay (ouch, indeed, very much).  But she can use words.  It is arguably more erotically powerful to dominate with real words — real bad, mean words — rather than "and now I am going to beat you."  And what matters most to a man?  His dick.  It may seem a trite observation, but it is nonetheless true. 

I often say that our poor men — they just can’t help it.  After all, it’s like God created them with the supreme disadvantage of having a gear shift sticking out right there, right there in front for the world to see … even with the cover of trousers!   How can the NOT think about it all the time?  And it makes them very vulnerable, doesn’t it?

So why not go for the girth?  Make every word count and hit him with those words where it hurts the most?  Only, in this case, with pain — there’s no gain.  Little Willie leaves the encounter none the worse for the wear … but none the better.  His sad puny prick is still sad and still puny.

It makes sense.  Penis size is very much on the male mind (don’t ask — he won’t admit it) at least some of the time. Hornswaggling, doolally spammers bank on it.  In my personal email recently:

• Female Orgasms:  Bigger means Better for your Woman
• Your tool is so small she hardly finds it in bed?
• Penetrate Deeper
• Enhance your masculine tool
• Fill out your erectile tissue
• Enlarging your male weapon means winning a competition
• From now on you will be able to satisfy each size-queen
• Your male power will return like a boomerang

Now, admittedly, this Mystery Meat (pun intended) was more than likely sent from the one and only internet cafe in some backward jungle — the spammer believing the hype of myriad porn sites.  But he is on to something and it must make money, because everybody finds this stuff in their in-boxes.    Even me, and I have a very feminine personal email address.  It’s the marketing method of Quantity over Quality … just like a Size Queen Fantasy!  The irony is delicious.

Besides being a subcategory of Erotic Humiliation, Small Penis Humiliation is a major theme in Cuckolding Fantasies.  Particularly when the Cuckoldress’s lovers are studly black bulls.  It’s the stark differences that give these fantasies their edge:  Black vs. White, Woman vs. Male, Wife vs. Husband, Large vs. Small.  So, even if it’s not quite your thing, perhaps you can understand that, for others, it’s sizzling hot.

Forced Bi Fantasies will often contain at least a portion of Small Penis Humiliation, with size functioning to underline one’s role in the fantasy:  large equals dominant, small equals submissive.  The feeling of tractability can be deeply enhanced when the physicality of size is used as emphasis.

So Big Cock, Small Cock, Average Cock … what’s it all about, Angela?

Well, you might recall that I actually wrote an about this in an essay, Erotic Humiliation is Not an Oxymoron, for the book, Sex Kitten Presents the BDSM Issue.  While I don’t discuss Small Penis Humiliation per se, I do talk about the "fantasy" of being verbally humiliated, taunted and abused by a beautiful and poweful FemDom. 

As far as me, personally:  Is bigger better?  Do I or don’t I?  Well, you’ll just have to READ ALL ABOUT IT.

xo, Angela

Blame it on the totally awesome Bitch Trainer I recently hired.  She is torturing me and I am loving it.  I told her that due to fairly regularly jogging my legs were more than fine, that I wanted to concentrate on upper body strength.  OOOOHHH … she so took me at my word.  Damn her!  God bless her!  I want to have lesbian sex with her.  I want to have her babies.  She’s my own personal non-sexual Dominatrix and I worship her.  She is whipping me into uber shape and I’m giving her lots of money to do it!  It’s the perfect relationship, because she won’t let me top from the bottom.  I have a habit of wanting to be always right, always in charge, always knowing what’s best … for me and for everybody else.

Which — while it works in my line of work, FemDom PhoneSex — it won’t get me to where I want to go with this training.  In this situation, I’m getting my ass kicked on a regular basis and I have to suck it up.  I leave the gym with throbbing shoulder blades, trembling thighs. aching breasts … and I thank her for my mysery and can’t wait to see her again.  

So all of that is keeping me … shall we say engaged?  Plus I am being honored at a volunteer dinner next week and I don’t have a thing to where.  Really, I don’t.  I need some new summer dress-up clothes — which means I’m busy shopping.  Concurrently, I am shopping for the perfect summer white purse.   Then there’s dinner and a show at the Performing Arts Center next month, a Leonard Cohen concert still a few months away, a lunch and movie I promised a friend, and I’ve already bought my tickets to see Wicked in early fall.

Of course I have the other life stuff that keeps us all spinning, like dealing with Comcast’s inadequate and rude Customer Service Department on what seems a constant basis.  I have my cable thru them, because the greedy bastards have made sure they’re the only game in town.  Plus I pay them for Nanette’s cable/phone/dsl, because she’s my good friend and she really just really needed someone to cut her a break.  And they are always screwing things up, like accidently turning her Phone off on Easter Sunday, then taking two 1/2  days to get it back on.  Or suddenly beginning to charge me for a sport tier on my cable bill and insisting I’d ordered it.  When anybody who knows me knows, that is something I would never, ever do in a zillion years.  But Comcast is always right and the customer is always wrong.  Go figure. 

And then there is this Phone Sex Business.  It’s my baby.  No CEOs, no Personal Assistants, no Comptrollers …. so this tax thing is one big fucking headache for me.  But it is now done and put to bed.  Amen.

Oh, and the Phone Sex Business — believe it or not, and I know this is going to shock you — requires of me that I actually take calls from shall we say …. sexual adventurers?  And I happen to have a group of loyal callers who expect me to show up and work some serious magic.  Even though I took off for Easter Sunday, this past weekend was practically non-stop calls.  In fact, any time I’ve been available lately, I’ve been kept very busy with callers.  Which — I’m certainly not complaining — is a very good thing.

What all of the above means is that I am a very busy girl.  But I’m here.  Just shoot me an email (angela @ zensmut DOT com) and I will — sometimes a little later than sooner, but always at some point — get back to you and we can go from there.  Or you could just call.  The link for phoning me is at the top of this page.  Regardless, my titties are still hurting.
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Phone Sex Quote of the Day: 

What you can do when you’re having phone sex is limited only to your imagination. Most people appear to feel that the more creative you get, the better the sex. You could be in any room, doing anything. If you have a cordless hands-free phone, your options multiply.  (ARTICLE)

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Financial Phone Sex Dom of the Day:

If you like a woman to control your cock by controlling your hard-earned cash, then you simply must visit Mistress Sherry Elizabeth’s website,  where you can see her absolutely FREE video in which she seduces, teases and hypnotizes you into financial submission.  Make no mistake about it … Sherry Elizabeth is a sizzling hot, beautiful woman.  She will weaken you, then wrap you around her little finger — another trinket for her collection.  You will want to call her, worship her, give her everything and anything she requests.  But your cock will be so hard you could use it to pound nails.  That’s a fair enough trade, I do believe.

xo, Angela