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Monthly Archive for: 'September, 2018'
Survival is a 4 Letter Word | FukU

One of the consequences of being born very premature is having to battle a lifetime of medical ailments , but a second and more cerebral ailment is living with the constant feeling that the world never intended for us to stick around , which are feelings both Wael and I share. As I posted on Twitter today, once again I’m going under the knife come September 1st and I’ve told my surgeon that I want all of these maladies removed in a single session , to which he remarked that I’d be in quite some discomfort for the first 10 days following the procedure. Thus, I’m not doing sessions until let’s say about the 12th of September, so keep that …

CBT | Just For Laughs

“Cock and Ball Torture (CBT) sessions should be a fun lighthearted two hour poke at something that sounds much more menacing that it actually is.” There, I said it. Would you believe that the funniest sessions I host at my condo are ones where beginners are dipping their toe bravely into CBT. Now I realize that the BDSM purists out there would either cringe or revolt at the usage of the word Funny in the same sentence as CBT but I’m not exactly your cookie cutter molded Mistress am I now? Catering mostly to the newbie crowd pretty much ensures all my sessions come with a good amount of chuckles and laughs , and I’m fine with being known as …

Veni.  Vidi.  Amari.

This naturally beautiful girl I met while hiking in Sri Lanka had these gorgeous eyes that held in a single instant both sadness and hope. I saw in her eyes those of my own when I was her age , where there seemed to be no hope of a better life and yet – I knew if I was a bit entrepreneurial in my ways that it might be possible to find an escape. So I gave her quite a handsome tip and a kiss on the cheek , told her to keep the flowers to sell to somebody else and it seemed like for a brief moment we connected as we looked in silence into each others eyes. I …

Planes, Buses, & Consciousness

I boarded the plane for the flight home from Sri Lanka in a surly mood , one which dove a few levels deeper when truly – the second coming of John Candy from his Planes, Trains and Automobiles movie checked his ticket twice and confirmed with a smug smile that the aisle seat beside me was indeed his for the next few hours. My forehead pressed even tighter against the window as I looked out it in such a forlorn way , unamused by the luggage handlers throwing bags onto the plane’s cargo area down below like they were hurling dead body bags into a grave. ‘Fuck my life’ I thought I said in my mind but apparently not. “Why?” …