Originally posted to Sex Kitten (2003 - 2004)

What is your body for? Some people might think it's a mode of transportation for their brain. Some people might think it's something to be used to lure men to their doom, like the legendary sirens. Some might talk about procreation, having babies, continuing the species, all that sort of stuff. Some others might think it's just advertising in motion.

Whatever it's for, do you know much about how it works? How do breasts make milk for babies? Why does your vagina leak even when you aren't having an orgasm? Why do women have hair in odd places where only men should have hair? These and other questions can be answered if you care to find out. Most young women don't know about milk ducts, or how the vagina cleans itself by leaking mucus. They don't know what makes a woman's breasts start having milk. Why are they so ignorant?

I think it's because we are so focused on making women's bodies into sex toys that we have forgotten there is a real purpose for women being different from men. It's not just a way to turn them on. No, Virginia, there really is a vagina, not just a pussy.

Women have babies, that's the whole point of that period thing women get monthly. Women feed babies, that's why we have those pair of lumps stuck to the front of us. Women give birth to babies that's why our hips tend to be wider than men's. No, it's not all there to sell cars, sorry, you have been sadly misinformed.

The saddest thing of all is that so many women are getting breast implants. A breast implant turns what starts out as a natural thing into nothing but a sex toy. Once implanted with those plastic bags of goop a breast can no longer function for breast feeding a baby. Is that such a small price to pay for having the biggest hooters. Is that all there is? Is that all you want to be?

Real women have breasts, not tits. Real women have a vagina, not a love tunnel. Real women are women, not sex toys or a great marketing campaign. They might not be size 2 with a D cup bra but I can tell you one thing, real women live for themselves, they don't wait around for some man to approve.

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Tuesday June 22, 2004

Cruising around, looking at useless stuff today and I came across the words "vocal restraints" in a personal fetish profile. Awesome! One of those things that makes me step back and sigh with pleasure, just imagining the possibilities of vocal restraints.

Of course I had to search for more of it, find out if the reality holds up to my concept of it. I found some really weird stuff. Beyond anything I'd imagined. Check out the link for China Doll. Pretty... interesting.

I prefer my version. Vocal restraints not being a gag but the use of the voice to control. But, that takes a commanding presence among other things. Maybe the gag version of the vocal restraint is more to the liking of the fast food sort of BDSM. It's easier, for sure.

But, why go for the easy way out?

Why not give your sub a command and expect it to be obeyed? It's what he says he wants, right?

Or does he... does he long for the time you will slip up and he can regain his freedom. Silly man.

The whole attraction of D/s to me is the control, the mind games. I like being in charge, knowing he is liking it too. Of course, he can't make it seem too easy, let me think he is liking it too much. Then I'd have to make it just a bit harder (literally) and a bit more challenging for both of us. Soft and nice has it's place, it can be part of Domming. Just think of soft and nice right before the axe falls. From tender to extreme is pretty effective.

That doesn't mean non-physical restraints need to give way to hard core bondage restraints. It just means I need to crack down and make sure he remembers which of us has the remote control and which is the innocent bystander. Speaking of remote controls... oh never mind, I'll save that for another column.

Soon I will find the little man I've wanted to torment for so long. It will be a lot of fun for both of us, but mostly for me. I have so many ideas along the lines of objectification, domestic discipline, humiliation and vocal restraints now too.

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Friday June 11, 2004

Don't laugh... but did you know people are afraid of me? More specifically, men are afraid of me. I can hear you laughing. It's true though.

Not all men of course. Just those who get a bit close to me and not counting my brother of course. Brothers are on a planet of their own. Boyfriends past are afraid to hurt me. At least that is what I am assuming. I'm not made of glass, China or highly flammable polyester. Yet they fear hurting me. Causing damage. All that stuff. They don't want to tell me when things are over. They hesitate, delay and wait. I'm not sure what they are waiting for. The right time? Is there a right time to break up with someone? How about 4 o'clock? That could become the official right time. Give those guys a proper time to make it easier for them, and me.

It's not fun waiting for a guy to tell you it's over. I don't like it at all. Todd, my ex husband, waited at least 5 months to tell me. All that time I thought he was mad at me for something. He didn't speak to me. How was I to know he was just waiting for the right time?

In the case of Eric, this time I didn't settle for being the princess in the ivory tower. I asked him as directly as I had the courage to do. Even then I waited a week and wrote again to tell him we were broken up myself. I don't see how you can imagine yourself as a couple when it's pretty plain he considers you aren't, in deeds if not in so many words. So Eric is gone. He doesn't want a relationship right now. He is happy with his life as it was, before me.

The whole problem with me, I'm coming to see, is that I take up space. How silly of me. I'd be perfect if I could be invisible and without substance somehow. Or maybe the robot woman.

The match for the robot man I wanted myself. Is that the secret after all this time? Do men and women really not want each other at all. What everyone really wants, the ideal life partner, is mechanical or artificial, perhaps even disposable. Someone you can store under the bed, in the closet, or the garage? Take them out to use as needed and then push them aside into some corner until needed or wanted again. The ultimate relationship is with someone who takes up no space. Maybe robots could be made to shrink when not in use. Just add water to have your instant significant other as desired. You'd never have to make room in your home or your life for an artificial life form.

Which brings you to the point where you have to wonder why you ever wanted it in the first place.

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Friday June 04, 2004  

I know about the whole opening jars, reaching high shelves and squishing icky bugs thing... but do we really need men? Think about it.

When was the last time you couldn't open a jar by yourself? There are tricks you can figure out. I find running it under the warm water tap and then hitting it around the edges with a knife handle works well. Also smack it on the bottom a few times and see if that sucker doesn't loosen up.

Next, reaching things. Not every guy is actually tall enough to reach things you can't reach yourself. Consider getting a step ladder for the rest. Step ladders are pretty much maintenance free.

Down to the bug issue. I have found men are just as icked out about bugs as most women I know. So, really, this is not an advantage to having a man around the house. Squish your own bugs, learn to trap them and flush or dump them outside. However you do it, you can get rid of the squickiest bug without the assistance of a man.

So, what's left? Sex? Make me laugh! Every woman can learn how to do that herself. Plus no worries about disease, unwanted pregnancies or sleeping in wet spots. Quick, clean and to the point.

I used to think I'd like a robot man around. But, really, it would just be one more thing to dust. Get rid of the fantasy and stop looking for a man. Instead become your own man. Whatever you thought you needed from a man you can do for yourself. Just tap your ruby slippers a few times and think about not sharing a bathroom.

Originally posted to Adult BackWash: Tuesday May 25, 2004  

The question of the night is... What am I doing here?

Me, the good girl. Yes, I know you've heard that before. But now add to that the daughter of the deceased. When is it ok to start writing erotica again after a death in the family? Do they have a Miss Manners Guide for bad girls? Or even for good girls who like to play with the bad girls? Or just my own personal Miss Manners Guide to my own personal life since no one else seems to be looking for the same polite rules of conduct I'm looking for. I'm an oddity. I've heard it before.

Gracie and Big Blonde have a past. They were (are) professional women. Not lawyers, doctors or that sort of thing. Though, who knows what they might start next week?!

But, me, I'm a dud. I know... here you thought I could teach your old dog a few new tricks and you read about my wicked ideas and had such high hopes. Let me crush those for you now. I could be a born again virgin. I think I will just give up on the whole thing. I'm getting too old. Besides, I am very well self taught when it comes to pleasing women, one woman anyway.

Is there some point when a man just gets in the way?

I think that must be the reverse of prostitution or being a hooker, whore, etc. I won't even type the nastier ones. If you are being paid to please a man you can't start off by thinking he is in the way, can you? Not very good customer service. Even I know that just as a cashier and I only have to count their change. If I prefer I don't even have to physically touch them. I do prefer it that way actually. Do you know how gross some people really are, up close? ICK! It's enough just taking their money.

If I was a prostitute I would make them all wear full body condoms. I don't even want one curly little hair escaping. Yes, suffocation is a danger, but not for me! He can take the risk. If he really seems to be suffering I'll poke an air hole somewhere. I'm not completely mean.

If I was a prostitute I would always be the Domme. No way could I submit to some guy I've just met. Most of them are drooling idiots anyway. How can you submit to someone you're laughing at on the inside?

If I was a prostitute I would demand references from their last three lovers, up front. I don't want someone fumbling around pretending they have a clue. If I have to show them where my clit is they might as well just play with themselves awhile and then get out. Would they know the difference? I think not.

But, I'm not a prostitute. I'm not about to become one though the money would come in handy. I don't think I can become detached enough. Plus it should all be about me, pleasing me, how good I feel, etc. If it becomes about pleasing some dickhead of a guy... that's just gross. What's in it for me? Me! Me! Me!

Maybe that's the difference between a nice girl and a bad girl. Nice girls always finish last. If at all. No wonder I don't fit in.

Now if only Martha would return my calls about the whole erotica writing/ good manners thing.

• Give a man a free hand, and he'll try to run it all over you. - Mae West