What I wish for you …

That you live your truth, never bending to whim, to fad, to opinion.

That you know God made you; and that who you are and who you become is between you and God and nobody else.

That you give much more than you take, which is the true measure of a successful life.

That the people you love feel it to the bone: its depth, its honesty, its sheer will.

That your heart is full always of gratitude and hope.

That Christmas is your way of life.

And that you believe that Santa Claus is real.

xo, Angela

(my Holiday wishlist)

Email:

hello [sic] Miss Lawrence [sic]

are [sic] you able to Domme [sic] me on skype today (watching/giving orders)?

My Response:

Why the fuck do you think my “Call Now” button was on?

Now I am going to block you, because I don’t particularly want to dominate an idiot.

And by the way, it’s Miss St. Lawrence. Your carelessness makes you twice the idiot.

Also, your bad grammar makes you a lazy, careless, twice idiot.

Not to mention disrespectful, since I’d given you the benefit of the doubt the last time you pulled this shit and sent you 5 FREE minutes for your next attempt (today) and you squandered it by being a total dipshit.

Ms. Angela

PS. B L O C K E D

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving and hope yours was extra special.  Hopefully, you’re one of the lucky ones who have today and the weekend off too. Me? I’m going to be around to take calls as much as I can this weekend, with a few respites here and there.

Since #FeedbackFriday (on Twitter & here at this blog), is coinciding with this holiday weekend, I wanted to take a moment to say how grateful I am for all of my callers:

You are top shelf, tits and champagne, seriously Good Boys. Maybe it’s because I expect the best out of you and you know it. But I don’t think so.  You, my partners-in-crime,  are  the Cream of the Crop: you really are gracious, appreciative, smart, witty and and wicked kinky. You make me happy. Thank you.

And here’s a few things you’ve said about me:

Gets into your head and then proceeds to blow your mind. Relentless, intoxicating and worth a lot more than she charges.

Miss Angela is not only the best on NiteFlirt, she is the best in the business. She knows how to give you exactly what you need. Call other girls at your own risk.  Once you go Angela you never go back … to anyone else.

Ms. St. Lawrence is divinity walking among mere mortals. I live to serve, to worship, to tribute, to shower her with gifts from her wish list. I am honored.

I usually wax rather rhapsodic and long winded in this space, but this time I’m taking a page from Oscar Wilde, who once famously opined that “brevity is the soul of wit.” With that quote as my guide, I will leave this to the Ms. Angela devoted and curious: Ms. Angela mind-fucks me so good and hard, my brain walks funny in the morning.

There’s a lot of pretend and want-a-bees on NF, but Mistress Angela is real and its an honor to submit to Her control. She read me so well and captured me with Her authenticity, intellect and class: A true Domme.

…………………

…………………

And that is why I adore you. Each and every one of you.

xo

Happy Thanksgiving

Today Means Amen

by Sierra DeMulder

Dear you,
Whoever you are,
However you got here,
This is exactly where you are supposed to be.

This moment has waited its whole life for you,
This moment is your lover,
And you are a solider,
Come home baby, it’s over,
You don’t need to suffer anymore.

Dear you,
This moment is a surprise party,
You are both hiding in the dark,
And walking through the door,
This moment is a Hallelujah,
This moment is your permission slip,
To finally open that love letter,
You’ve been hiding from yourself,
The one you wrote when you were little,
When you still danced like a sparkler at dusk,
Do you remember the moment you realised they were watching,
When you became ashamed of how much light you were holding,
When you first learned how to un-love yourself.

Dear you,
The word today, means amen in every language.
Today, we made it,
Today, I’m gonna love you,
Today, the box cutter will rust in the garbage,
Today, the noose will forget how to hold you,
Today,
Today.

Dear you,
And I have always meant, you.
Nothing would be the same if you did not exist.

You, who were once as small as bouquet,
Who could sleep in the laughs of strangers,
Nothing would be the same if you did not exist.

You, who’s voice is someone’s favourite voice,
Someone’s favourite face to wake up to,
Nothing would be the same if you did not exist.

You, the teacher,
The starters gun,
The lantern in the night who offers not a way home,
But the courage to travel farther into the dark.

You, the lover,
Who worships the taste of her body,
Who is the largest tree ring in his heart,
Who does not let fear ration your love.

You, the friend,
The sacred chorus of ‘How can I help you?’
Who have felt more numb than holy,
More cracked than mosaic,
Who has known the tiles of a bathroom by heart,
Who has forgotten what makes you worth it.

You, the forgiven,
The forgiver,
Who belongs right here, in this moment.

You, this clump of cells,
This happy explosion that happened to start breathing,
And by the grace of whatever is up there,
You got here,
You made it, this whole way,
Through the nights that swallowed you whole,
The mornings that arrived in pieces,
The scabs, the gravel,
The doubt, the hurt,

The hurt, the hurt,
Is over today,
You made it,
You made it,
You made it,
Here.