By Richard,

Submissive Savant to the Stars (er, one Super Nova).

Read Part I

My First Mistress: Part II

She opened the door and put her fingers to her lips to indicate that I wasn’t to speak.

“Follow me.”

We went through mildly snazzy but pretty conventional living room to a side room that I suspected had been a breakfast room. It was completely empty.

She looked me in the eye and I felt a mild shiver pass up my spine.

“Go in the corner,” she pointed, “and get on your knees facing the corner and keep your hands at your sides.”

I complied getting very exciting wonder what she was going to do to me.

“You will stay there until told otherwise. Keep your eyes facing the corner, your arms where they are and your mouth shut. If you decide to stop before told you just leave the house and do not come back.”

I heard her leave the room.

A few minutes passed. Then several. Then I couldn’t guess how long I’d been there. Minutes started to seem awfully long. Sometimes I thought I saw the wall move. My knees were hurting and my ankles were sore.

I started to get mad. This was awfully boring. But I didn’t dare move. I’d hungered to be trained for a long time and she was the first who ever offered to do so.

I might as well have been chained there even if the chains were only in my mind and of my own making.

Finally after an eternity that I later was told was only 90 minutes she was back in the room.

“Get up and face me.” I almost fell and legs were wobbly but I was up in a flash.

Her expression was unreadable. It couldn’t decide if she looked grim, amused or maybe even mildly approving.

“Go but you may come back tomorrow at the same time.”

I left softly shutting her front door.

I’d washed her car. I’d been bored almost to tears. None of it had been even faintly erotic. I could not guess what tomorrow would bring. But looking inside myself I knew that having been forced to conform to another’s arbitrary commands had given me some satisfaction.

But I did wonder how many more tests I’d have to pass.

***

Now this is starting to get interesting, dontcha think? I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Stay tuned for Part III.

Oh. FYI: Richard has yet another up & coming website breaching the waters of WebTopia: BDSM Reference. While still in its embryonic stage, I do believe it will grow up to be quite an interesting addition to the BDSM community. And remember, folks. You heard it here first.

xo, Angela

So Richard, cherished Savant and venerated Web-Chronicler of all things submissive, shared with me a few days back that he has occasionally dabbled in the fine art of writing fantasy. He says it’s not erotica (“This isn’t erotica. I wrote it many years ago to give dominant women that I met online a picture of my perception of Femdom relationships.”), but….

I say it is. What do you guys think?

My First Mistress – Part 1

When I came to her house I was a little surprised by the size. She lived alone but it was large enough for a largish family. Big yard too. Otherwise it was a plain suburban west Durham house.

When I got to the door I tightened my stomach muscles trying to tame the partying butterflies that had moved in there. As instructed I knocked three times. About half a minute later the door opened. For a split second I thought I’d faint.

She was wearing sunglasses. I couldn’t see her eyes and my feelings of intimidation took another jump. Not wanting to look like a gawking fool (probably already too late) I started to introduce yourself.

“I -.”

“I know who you are.” She sounded impatient but out of habit than actually annoyed. “Don’t speak, just nod. You saw my car as you came in.” It was under a carport. I nodded. “Go wash it. If you aren’t going to do a good job you might as well leave now. When you’re done come back and knock at the door.” She shut the door.

She’d told me I’d have to pass a few tests. I’d been expecting something more exciting. It was probably proof of my desperate need that without hesitating I went over to the car.

There was a hose, clothes car wash and wax. I don’t own a car so I was a little lost at first. But my father used to make me wash his car when I was a teen. I hated doing that with a passion. I could almost believe that, Joan – that was her name, had read my memories when she picked this chore.

I scrubbed the car twice, including the hubcaps and tag areas. It was hot and it was tiring. But waxing was even worse. I was so afraid it wouldn’t look right I kept buffing and buffing until my arms ached. Finally it was as good as I could do and I hoped good enough.

Back at the door I waited a couple of minutes until she answered my knock. She wasn’t wearing the shades so I could see her very intelligent intense looking dark eyes. She had a few worry lines etched into her forehead but they only added to her look of smart competence. She was tall probably about five inches less than my 6’3″. She was skinny, almost boney but I don’t know that her body could’ve matter I was so sucked in by her eyes.

But she was only there for a moment. “Come back tomorrow at the same time.” The door shut.

I felt like I should be disappointed but I wasn’t. But I sure hoped tomorrows test would be less strenuous.

***

Stay tuned for Part II.

xo, Angela

I kinda-sorta-maybe have a thing for shoes. The latest additions to my ever-growing Fetish Shoe Closet:

Aren’t they just adorable? Can you imagine all the fun we could have with these? Yum Yum! Even the shoe boxes are adorable.

Oh, and the shoe line? SEDUCE by Pleaser.

Wanna see me wearing them?

xo, Angela

Pervert Savant sends the following email.

Subject: Pulp Fiction for the Jaded

Dearest Angela:

I’ve been thinking.

My contribution to “Pulp Porn” would be an elaboration on a new idea that has been percolating in my fevered brain. “Phone Sex Pimp Daddy” — a bare-knuckled tell-all expose about a middle-aged white office worker who, one day, decides to become a PPP (“Phone Sex Pimp).

Follow him as he gathers his stable of phone sex whores — preying on innocent intellectual women, corrupting them, buying their bifocals, encouraging them to read books, forcing them to speak in grammatical sentences and then, when they have nothing left, requiring them to slave away at phone banks in dingy offices, dingier apartments, and still dingier trailer parks, plying their trade until they’re used up and hoarse — enslaved and willing to give all their hard earned profits to their pimp, (a man who is known on the avenue as “NiteFlirt”).

He’s their “Phone Sex Daddy!” You can do the screenplay. I’d want a percentage of the take from the movie, of course.

Sincerely,

Pervert Q. Savant

What do you think? Should I go for it? Write that screenplay and share the wealth with this rascal of a guy? I think he has the talent. Certainly the gumption. Or maybe I should write the book and the screenplay. Reap the bounty myself?

Or maybe I’ll just ignore this silliness and buy a membership to Tit-Elation.

Which reminds me: One of my stories, Tying up Amy was featured via Tit-Elation at Samarel Erotic Art.

And for those who emailed and/or commented on yesterday’s entry, I am fine. I really am. Just rolling with the punches. Thanks so much.

xo, Angela

The title of this entry was suggested as an alternate title for a poem I recently wrote, I Love You With All of my Hard-On. Yeah, I wish I would have thought of it first. But I didn’t.

So who says I can’t use it anyway? For example as a title to a blog entry? Huh?

You may have noticed that I was MIA yesterday. And callers will have noticed I’ve been MIA quite a bit as of late. Hey, it happens. Life has thrown me a lot of curves this past year–some of with which many of you are familiar. And then there’s the stuff I just keep to myself. Regardless, sometimes I just reach burn-out stage and/or am coping with some life trauma. Then I have to step back from the phones, and, even sometimes, this blog.

Some news:

I’ve been bombarded with poetry in re. to my new category, PSOetry. Poetry of all kinds and by so many different poets. I do believe I’m learning more than I ever learned in my college poetry courses. At least it’s a much fuller experience.

I will be judging a writing competition for Tit-Elation in the very near future. We are working out the details, so stay tuned for more on that soon.

I am finally working on Literate Smut‘s updates and changes and we should actually see that all in place by the end of next week if not sooner.

And last –but certainly not ever, ever least– my most awesome Deviant Savant, Supervert, has made me the official Phone Sex Operator of his most wonderful site, PervScan.

And now if you will excuse me, I’m off to other endeavors for this evening.