Trusting your Instincts

You can sometimes tell when a client is going to be bad news. You get a feeling. Something in the way they speak. Something in the way they don’t fully understand your questions, don’t answer clearly. I don’t think this is due to language barriers, sometimes it is hard to communicate what my service is to someone with minimal English. Usually goes something like this.

Caller: What service do you provide?

Me: Strap on and domination

Caller: What is that?

Me: I fuck you in the bum.

Caller: In your bum?

Me: No, YOUR bum.

Caller: How do you do that?

Me: With a small or large fake penis. In your bum. Your ass.

Caller: Oh, ok. Sorry. No I don’t want that.

Endcall.

But these people are genuinely confused and looking for something else from another type of worker. They are not bad clients, just a little lost in the system.

But the other clients the ones that think they can barter with you, or ask you intimate questions over the phone in your lobby. They are the ones you just want to smack.

This morning I received a call. The man spoke softly with a slight accent. He asked me if he could come over in at 11am. It was 10:48. I told him he could come over at 12pm and that I need an hours notice to book. He then asked if I did CIM, I said no and hung up. At 1 he calls me back looking to book. I decide I can work through this after he tells me he is looking for strap on. And give him my address.

I had smoked a little pot earlier and it usually makes me more paranoid about clients. Generally my paranoia is well founded and I should relearn how to listen to it. But I thought I would be able to work through this potential client and so went to get ready.

He shows up and is nothing but trouble. Calls me from the lobby. Gets to my apartment. Wants to fuck MY ass. Wants to pay me less and then what I ask and is looking around my house to see if I’m alone. WTF. I very quietly ask him to leave. Best to stop this before it gets messy.

Crunch

An adorable 21 year old shows up at my apartment last night. Nice, clean white collar shirt, black pants and shiny shoes. Big, beautiful brown eyes.

My first ball busting client!

I pinch his testicles in an old metal nutcracker I found at a second hand store and start lightly tapping his nuts with my hand. The nutcracker attaches like a tight ring around the cock and underside of the balls, the handle allows me to manipulate his sack, pulling it, twisting it around presenting it to me for easier access.

He is hard already. Most people will cringe, moan and probably lose their wood if you make hard contact with their balls. But not guys into ball busting, its beautiful to watch them tense up and their dicks get harder and harder with every smack.

I start slapping them open handed. He is on his back and I twist the nutcracker back and forth to give me access to the left nut, then the right. Earlier, when I asked him how he took his ball busting he responded, 'however I wanted, punches, kicks, kneeing'. So I knew this little slaphappy ordeal was just the beginning.

Its in these moments where I find I have to be extra carfeul about what I'm doing to people. When we start crossing a line of vanilla to kinky, to pretty intense I get a little paranoid. I know people know their limits, but those limits can be all over the place and really the sweet little girl in me doesn't actually want anyone to be upset. So I have to hit them in the balls just the way they like it.

I stood over him and pin his cock to his leg with the point of my heel. I'm wearing big black stilettos with a shark toe, the are strictly bedroom heels I never take them out of the house, at least if I expect to remain vertical for any amount of time. I stuff my shark toes into his balls and then start kicking him, increasing my force with every kick.

To finish him off I stand him up, spread his legs and then position my knee directly under his sack. I give him five hearty knees to the groin and then send him on his way.

I guess I'm now a ball busting feminist.

He will be back, next time I get to fuck his cherry ass!

Charms, 2009 by Jason Cantoro

Work is super slow this week, 1 cancellation, 1 reschedule, 0 calls. I blame the weather, everyone seems to be in a pretty tense mood. I was so bored today I washed the floors of my apartment (for the first time in 4 months).

The reason behind Yod's cuddliness became apparent last night when he told me he had been feeling triggered lately due to body pains and housing drama at the home front. I feel really torn on the issue of being an emotional support and safe house. Cuddles, food, safe space are all good, but not being able to regulate my work/personal space gets slightly difficult for me when I suddenly have a boyfriend hanging around the apartment when I'm supposed to be 'working'.

Having a proper work schedule like 9-5 is great when you can come home to your siggy other and shoot the shit until you both fall asleep ready for your next day at work. But my work is all over the place. I get calls at 10am, I get calls at 10pm. If I had another bedroom I would just stick Yod in there until I was finished. Unfortunately I have a one bedroom closet and therefore either need to kick him out while taking a late night client, or simply cancel the call.

Having a boyfriend is strange.

Not my cup of tea

I hate morning client calls. But even worst than morning appointments, are the ones that cancel on you. You are already awake, then you get the text. Sorry Won’t Be able to make it. Bleh. You woke up early and you don’t get paid.

Yod slept over. He was extra cuddly last night. Maybe it was because I had told him that I went on a dinner date with a guy. Or maybe it was because of that 5 hour fuck session we had the day before. I was restless. Slept badly and woke up cranky. I had to kick Yod out before my client came at 10am. When the client canceled at 9am I invited him to sleep a little longer.

When I’m cranky I have no patience for this man. It appears that everything he does is wrong. He does not move around my apartment with confidence. I feel like his mother, explaining how to mop up spilt liquids on the carpet, that the shower curtain stays inside the shower, etc. He made me tea. But he didn’t clean the teapot out and there was old tea from last night. He put cream inside it instead of milk, it was decaffeinated. Who drinks decaf at 10am?

This is the aspect of my relationship with Yod that I hate the most. The mundane part of my day I just want to keep to myself. By inviting him into my life, to sleep over, to stay that extra hour, I’m allowing him to creep ever more into my world. It’s not fair to him that I’m a cranky bitch in the morning, or that he doesn’t know how to make my tea right.

But dammit if he thinks there is any future in all this, he will learn how to pour me a proper cup of tea.

Why I write about Sex

This post was inspired by Figleaf's Real Adult Sex post on the same topic….
http://www.realadultsex.com/archives/2007/03/why-i-blog-about-sex-instead-of-politics-health-or

Why I write about sex…

Because I think about it all the time
Because its thrown in my face all the time
Because I’m asked for it all the time
Because I never get enough of it
Because I have too much of it
Because it’s the most enjoyable thing I do by myself, besides dancing, reading a good book.
Because it’s the most enjoyable thing I can do by with another person besides dancing, making and eating a good meal.
Because it brought me into this world and Because its probably going to damn well take me out again (broken heart, jealous lover or severe bed sheet burns)
Because it makes me know myself better
Because is got me knowing you better
Because it’s where our secrets are
Because I can’t figure out what I’m doing half the time.
Because I’m fucking good at it.

Why I Won’t Have Sex With You. And how you SHOULD NOT react.

As a woman, moving occasionally through the heterosexual world of dating and screwing, I find myself frequently irritated by the level of cluelessness displayed by some het men when refused a sexual encounter. My first response is usually a polite no, but if the question persists I find myself moving closer and closer to a violent response.
What irks me the most is when I choose not to have sex with an individual and they refuse to let it go.

I suddenly transform into mommy, denying candy to her 8 year old son. “But why?” I hear him moan. Followed by puppy dog eyes, which I’m assuming is a desperate, pathetic attempt to change my mind. If you think staring into the eyes of a 8 year old boy in the body of a 26 old man is a turn on, you are dead wrong.

Sometimes it continues beyond this. After a firm and steady no, “I’m not interested” you take the quiet passive aggressive route. Suddenly you don’t know what to talk about, your eyes wander, you are taking my preference not to rip off my clothes and blow you as a deep personal insult. I’m sorry, incredibly insecure man, but I don’t feel like getting down and dirty.

Or you continue to ask me throughout our conversation. Do you think my ‘no’ is a fucking straw house, the more you blow the closer you are to me doing the same to you?

This article below gives a handy guide to a few issues that may be behind a woman’s disinterest in your package deal. While I find it somewhat problematic, I like how it reminds our tragic hero that it’s not always about him. It also brings up some interesting issues like insecurity and personal safety as barriers to getting right into it. For example, she is not body confident at the moment (wants to trim her bush), she knows that sex will be painful for her (in the case of yeast infection), her undies are not porntastic, etc.

People want to come to a sexual encounter knowing they are going to enjoy it. I wish more people came to a sexual encounter understanding that their partner will enjoy it too. And while you may be confident in your sexing ability and your hot ass, you don’t know what’s going on with the other person, personally and physically. So BACK THE FUCK OFF, if they decline your amorous advance.

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Whole article after the link
15 Reasons She Won't Have Sex With You | The Frisky

"Dudes of the world: You are very sexy. You are very tempting. You are very hard ... to say no to. Believe me! But sometimes, my V isn’t willing to accept the gift that is your P. So before you go getting down on yourself, here are the real reasons I won’t have sex with you after a date, even if it went well…

1. Too Drunk To Screw: I might puke and I’d rather not do it while either aerobically sexercising or encouraging my gag reflex over a beej. Besides, do you really want to test if we’re at that “I’ll hold your hair!” stage?
2. First Is The Worst: I may want to do you after a first date, but conventional wisdom has told me not to. I might have dry-humped your jeans bald, but, I’m not taking them off. I’m just worried that if we do too much too fast it’ll just turn into a fling. So, please, at least give us until date three.
3. Rag Time: I’m sorry, I can’t. Believe me, if I could ditch Aunt Flo, I would. But day one is no fun for anyone. I’ll get back to you in a few. And no, my butt doesn’t automatically become an option when my va-jay is out of commission.

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comic the second

So, this was completed last week and it has taken me forever to get around to posting it.
I've decided to call it GOBBLE.


Work has been fairly busy after a few week hiatus. I find the timing of the collective sexual energy in the city super frustrating. I get calls from 9-11am and then again from 3-5pm and then after 12 at night. The morning calls are the hardest, these calls are also just inquiries, which means you should pick them up, its business hours. I try but I can't get them, I can hardly put a sentence together before noon.