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

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.

As I’ve said –ad nauseum, perhaps?– I am a serious fan of SuperVert of PervScan.com and Perscan.tv. And we haven’t visited for a while, have we?

So why don’t we take a stroll. For your reading pleasure:

• Breaking, Entering, and Wanking
• Strip Tease Funerals (and why not?)
• Ancient Chinese Secret
• Breakfast of Champions
• Cyber Slave Driver
• Best. Phone. Sex. Ever. (hmph!)
• Prostitutes Rated Online
• Hemingway’s Son – Or Daughter?
• Ass Obsessed
• Flashing the Amish (praise the lord)
• Baby Man

And you just have to check out SuperVert’s mailbag. He does, indeed, get letters.

Truth is stranger than fiction, don’t ya know? Just ask SuperVert. He knows.
xo, Angela

My beloved Pervert Savant sends the following poem, “with apologies to Betty Krainis, whose poem “Keep it Low“, I blatantly plagiarized from.” (But, hey, he’s at least trying, so give the little deviate a break…why don’t ya?):

Angie St. Lawrence is her name
And oral fantasy is her game

If your sex life’s a bleak November
She’s human Viagra for your member

Like to dress in women’s clothes?
Be abused? Suck a nose?

Mince about? Like a sissy?
Better call this sexy Missy!

Is your pleasure cunnilingus?
Or a dildo in your dingus?

Care to suck a zoo gorilla?
Or just do it straight vanilla?

Ever try it hot and dental?
Angie’ll do you; she’s non-judgmental

Got a thing for women’s toes?
Whips and chains? Or pantyhose?

It doesn’t matter. What’s your pleasure?
Just call Angie at your leisure

Some PSOs aren’t real smart
They’ll take your money, then depart

Angie’s different. She’s a honey
You’ll get a GOOD ride for your money!

So don’t just sit there in your panties
Dial up Angie. She’ll wear scanties!

(And Mr. PQS: You really didn’t do much plagiarizing. You just did what most poets do all the time. Which was to admire a rhyme or conceit or metric or pattern or whatever…and run with it. That is how it all gets written, don’t you know?)

And for something completely different, check out my first-ever erotic/dirty sonnet, I Love You with all of my Hard-On, published at Sex Kitten recently.

And did you notice, there is no title for Pervert Savant’s poem? Any ideas out there?

xo, Angela

• Well, I finally got around to moving my Savant Collection to a bigger and better curio cabinet (AKA their very own page here at Zen Fetish).
• When visiting, please do not pick up, handle or fondle the Savants. Remember: You break it, you buy it.
• As you browse this small (but most exclusive) collection, you might also notice that there are more Savants awaiting their debut: Vanilla Savant (there’s one in every crowd, don’t ya know?), Closeted Savant (he has secrets), Lady of the Lace Savant (the first female savant — yowza!), Horn Dawg Savant (this one is lotsa fun — just you wait) and Pussy-Whipped Savant (which really always is the case anyway — he just is a bit more aware of it).
• God Bless Luscious Lyndee: She’s now the proud owner of two Brian Rawson photographs.
• I’ve been getting a lot of poetry sent my way these days for some reason and I do thank the senders very much. One (a Shakespearian Sonnet) is below. And thanks to you-know-who.
• Oh, and did you see the response to A O Hell posted by a certain Savant who is pretty darn creative and down right hillarious? That, too, is below.
• Now that everything is tied up into a neat little bow, let me say goodbye for tonight. Kink-O-Phone is now officially off of the hook.

***

Sonnet 57 ~William Shakespeare

Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Upon the hours and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend,
Nor services to do, till you require.

Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour
When you have bid your servant once adieu;

Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are how happy you make those.

So true a fool is love that in your will,
Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill.

***

System/Prakrit Kamasutramurtri Says:

October 20th, 2006 at 8:50 pm

Dear Pearl:

Namaste!

It gladdens my heart, here in Mumbai, to learn that your AOL Email system has at last returned to its normal state of happy repair.

In your posting to ZenFetish, however, I sense smally that there remains of bitterness and dissatisfaction with AOL and with my own most sincere efforts to assist you with your unfortunate problem. Know well, that at all times, I strenuously expended myself to my utmost to relieve you of your most perplexing difficulty.

Sadly, Brahma was not amenable to the resolution of your misfortune on this occasion. Such is karma. I wished you to be cognizant that I am now burning incense and have offered sweets and flowers at the Temple of Kali in hopes of atonement.

Please take a moment to give me a good report when further communicating with my superiors.

Sincerely

Prakrit Kamasutramutri (”Jerry”)
Your AOL-Customer Service Representative in Mumbai