Mistress Yin

That's my description of my life these days. Simple, delicious, round, and full. And sexykinkyfunfunfun-- the apple is, after all, the fruit of original sin.

SNAPS for Winesap, Honey Crisp, and Green Granny's. (my favorite varieties).

SNAPS for The Birdlocked Chastity cage. Comfortable enough for him to jog in. GRIN

and LIGHT. Heading into a time of giving thanks to the universe, I am grateful for many blessings. One of the greatest is that V is free of cancer. We just got the clean cat scan a week ago. May the birds sing it loud.

I'm heading out of the country again soon, but once I return, I'll have a load of writing to post.

cheers,
Yin

I will be out of the country and unavailable until November 15th.
Arrivederci,
M.Y.

-by Donovan

When I look out my window,
Many sights to see.
And when I look in my window,
So many different people to be
That it's strange, so strange.
You've got to pick up every stitch,
...,
Must be the season of the witch, yeah,
Must be the season of the witch.

When I look over my shoulder,
What do you think I see ?
Some other cat looking over
His shoulder at me
And he's strange, sure he's strange.
You've got to pick up every stitch,
...
Beatniks are out to make it rich,
Oh no, must be the season of the witch,
Must be the season of the witch, yeah,
Must be the season of the witch.

Have a wicked Halloween from one of the witches...

I'm waiting at the Seattle airport for my flight, watching the rain come down over the plane yard.
I had a well-played trip with all the right elements: sexy, fun people, delicious food, and a humongous penthouse suite--a million thanks to Swan and Traveler for pulling me out to this sweet, lil' city. I also enjoyed meeting the director of the Center for Sex Positive Culture ,Allena, and had a delightful evening with Matisse and her Max.  My thanks to them for their time and hospitality.

Favorite flashbacks:
**a bubble bath with Swan, the two of us in our pretty, little swim suits, bubbles overflowing the jacuzzi, and Traveler wrapped in sensory deprivation bondage underneath it all.
** Traveler taking off my shoe under the dinner table at an elegant restaurant  to massage my feet and putting the stiletto by his bread plate.
**watching the sensuous Mistress Matisse work Traveler over, as Swan and I practiced our "synchronized stapling" sport.  (It should be an Olympic event).
**a speculum pushed into his end, opened for every kind of liquid...then hooked and ratcheted down, needles crossing through nipples, strung to a pendulum...a long electrical sound sinking in as Swan slides herself inside...

Ah. Seattle....a wonderful place to visit.

**  "The Two Blondes In My Life"
A conversation with my friend, Axe, on his program, Masocast.

**Just back from the U.K., where I spent a delightful time with the Masochistic Chef at Marcus Wareing's restaurant at The Berkeley.
Memorable flashback: "Do you want the Sadist or the Super Sadist?" I grinned, offering the masochist a rhetorical menu.  "Well..." he replied, "I'm certainly curious about your limits."  "MY limits?" I exclaimed and with that, I nailed surgical staples over the cane marks on his bottom, sealed his scrotum so it stretched over his groin, and then plugged five staples into each of his feet, so that he would be sure to feel the bites when he sat, pissed, and walked throughout the night...

**also danced a candle lit eve with my beloved Richard in Blenheim Palace, where Churchill was born, and had a conversation with his 90 year old grandmother about my S&M profession, which she declared is "absolutely superb"!  She wants a tour of the Dojo!

** Domina Darla on Serious Bondage!!

**heading out to Seattle next week for mischievous fun with a whole crew of perverted, sexy whizzes. 

xx-Y

Scattered thoughts as I pack my bags...remember to look to the right when crossing the street...pack a duffel bag of hemp rope...book the Sherlock Holmes walking tour...coil the singletail whip into a silk scarf...reserved ticket at the Globe for Love's Labour's Lost...check the weather...pack my rubbers, the boot kind that they call "wellies"...check the train schedule from London to Oxford...autoclave the Spiderco, steel blade...a palace! I'm going to a ball in a real palace, like in a fairytale...carefully unfold the sterile gloves and slip them on, take out the knife...I imagine people in white wigs bowing to one another, but I know it won't be like that...vacuum seal the pack so that the blade remains perfect...Still, I feel I should brush up on my ballroom waltz...nestle the blade into the suitcase pouch with my silk stockings and lace lingerie... where it waits like a fang amongst butterfly wings...

Shall return the first week of October. 
xx
*****************
*reading: For Whom the Bell Tolls -Papa H.
*eating: duck hearts at Dovetail on 77th and Columbus
*seeing: intriguing word art techie art at The New York Times building, Moveable Type 2007, by Mark Hansen and Ben Rubin. It's a really fascinating conceptual installation in the lobby--a collage of words and sounds that are as harmonious and as chaotic as the city.  Check it out next time you're headed to the bus station.

The Tame Version

The Naughty

It was a custom black leather corset with every angle lined with steel boning, lacing in scarlet ribbon from the neck down to the crotch.  The boots were also custom made to lace from pointed toe to the tip top of the thigh, made of shiny, but soft patent leather. And long kidskin opera length gloves.  Absolutely Stunning.  On him, not me.  I wore a comfortable leather dress and silk stockings, so as to be agile in strapping, buckling, tying, and moving my metal furniture from one end of the Dojo to the other.

While I have a plethora of leather equipment--body bags, straight jackets, leg binders, etc-- much of it is heavy stuff, with room to fit several body types, cinched by straps. The fit can be made.  But as a fetishist for perfection, I love it when I meet enthusiasts who bring their own custom fit darlings, whether they be custom steel chastity cages, posture collars that lock a gag into the leather covered mouth, or the custom leather body bag that one player brings:  It's shaped around the body with air pockets that inflate to fill every crevice, even between the toes. (nada wiggle).

I would like to collect a list of tailors, metal workers, equipment artists ,and shoemakers who make perfect fit, custom pieces. Experts in Fetishism. Please send me your recommendations.

He walks through my door and immediately faces the corner, sneaking only a glimpse at my grin.  From behind, I slide a rubber hood over his head and zip the back so that it pulls tight across his face, forcing his lips into a pucker.  His three piece suit is traded for a rubber straight jacket, buckled with arms wound tight around his chest.  Over the rubber hood, I fasten a leather head harness with a metal oral tube.  His face becomes a spout, a receptacle, a fixture.

I lead him into the tiled bathroom, white lights glaring over steel hooks and mirrors.  I push him into the tub and lock his face to a steel post.  Rubber straps render him immobile to the multiple metal rings that line the walls.  His legs are spread with a solid bar.  I tie a thin rubber cord around the base of his cock and balls and pull them, too, against the wall to a perfectly positioned ring.  The former business man made into rubber slave struggles against the taught rubber bands.  His mouth tube drools.  His cock swells.  His balls turn a deep shade of purple.

I snap on a pair of rubber gloves and turn the water on.  I prep his hole by lathering a peppermint soap around the sensitive bits and pushing in with a testing finger.  Satisfied, I hold the long nozzle, the "sure shot" enema spout, and tell him,
"It's time for your cleanse."
And then I plunge the steel spout in.

To all the guests and performers who made our special night so sexilicous hot!!
**Special shout out to my California Girls...

*reposted from Lolita Wolf's blog

“I am who I am. I am not ashamed of who I am — not one bit.”

Harvey “Jack” McGeorge passed away on August 18, 2009.  He was 59 years old.  The quote above is what he said when the Washington Post outed him in 2002 when he was a weapons inspector with U.N. Monitoring, Verification and Inspection Commission (UNMOVIC).  He did offer his resignation to Hans Blix, who had known of his BDSM from the beginning. Blix refused to accept his resignation.  Jack was a former Marine, a munitions expert, a sharpshooter and a chemical and biological warfare expert.  He had his own consulting company, Public Safety Group.

Jack was a bondage enthusiast and a metal bondage collector.   He acquired his first pair of handcuffs when he was eight years old.  His first explorations with others came while he was in the Marine Corps and, then later, in Mensa.  He was a founding member and an emeritus board member of Black Rose in DC and served in several capacities including Chairman of the Board, President, Secretary and Co-chair for BR10.  Additionally he had been a member of TES, GMSMA and Delta where he had served as a chief DM.
Jack was also passionate about latex, role play, teaching and activism.  He taught on a wide variety of topics for many groups and events over the years.  Jack served for five years on the Leather Leadership Conference board, was the Co-chair for LLC2000 and an Emeritus Board Member. Jack was a past Chairman of the Board of National Coalition for Sexual Freedom and served as Chair for the CARAS Board.
Over the past dozen year, Jack explored a passion for Master/slave dynamics.  He established a household, the Order for Discipline and Service.  He was greatly influenced by monastic and military structure and developed household manuals, uniforms, brochures, and a household philosophy. Jack and slave raven held the Northeast Master and slave title in 2005.
His community awards included:
Black Rose Vaughn Keith National Education Award in 1998
Dr. Anthony F DeBlase Professor of SM Arts and Letters in 1999
Pantheon of Leather Mid Atlantic Regional Award in 1998 and 2000
Black Rose Elder Award in 2000
Pat Bond Community Service Award from TES in 2003
Pantheon of Leather Man of the Year Award in 2004

___________________________________________
I thank Lolita for writing Jack McGeorge's bio and  I bow my head in respect and remembrance.  Though I did not know him well, I took his classes and had the opportunity to talk to him about bondage.  Jack was an inspiration as a courageous lifestyle role model and a great teacher.  He took the time to share his expertise with me when I was just starting off as a baby-dom.
His decision to face his outing as a lifestyle leather man with such bravado is the spirit that encourages me and so many others.
My heartfelt sympathy extends to Lolita and Jack's family. 

 

RSVP 

guest list required

The Brazillian Sisters

 

Melody Sweets and Stormy Leather

 

 RSVP to 

fetishgalanyc@gmail.com

 for guest list and private location info

every time I descend into the subways, I feel a hood of heat compress around my face
sunlight paves my skin in swatches of dark and darker, my hidden parts still bandaged pale
the summer heat is a body bag, restraining the arms and thighs to a cement pace as sweat trickles
down the back of my knees and bathes the back, curls behind the ear
on every corner, young things tease and deny with nakedness, glowing nakedness.
craving is
a lick of lemon ice cream.

This is a terribly busy month of struggles, celebrations, work/play, and writing and, of course, cycling. 
*sessions for August have filled.  Mid-September is the soonest open schedule
*writing--very excited to have gotten an offer to write an article for a print mag. Will divulge details after publication.
*I am getting married.  Yes, really, and I'm slipping it in like a wild card, but it's not, it's real and it's lovely and it's absolutely awesome.
*For those who have asked about V, she is currently undergoing a 4 week bone marrow transplant, quarantined in a hospital room.  We believe that this procedure will greatly reduce the likelihood of a relapse or new growth. Your kind wishes and donations are appreciated.

For years, I've been a fan of the Serious Bondage website because the players and gear are intense and the producers and subjects are real, heavy-duty players, not just fetish models trussed up for glam shots.  Mark and Dalton visited New York City a few months ago to shoot and interview Miss Troy Orleans, Domina Darla Kincaid, and me.  Check out the free articles and sign up for extra images!! (My chapter will be posted soon).

KinkForAll is an ad-hoc informational unconference on sexuality for anyone and everyone. KinkForAll draws  participants from an astounding range of sexuality-related communities. Anyone with the desire to learn or with something to contribute is welcome and invited to participate.

Vitals
======

What: The second no-limits sex-positive gender and sexuality unconference of New York City.
Why: To inspire a creative, interactive and open environment where everyone feels comfortable talking, learning, and being inspired by all kinds of sexuality.
When: August 8th, 2009
Where: *The **LGBT Center**, **208 West 13th Street, New York.** *
Who: Everyone
How much: FREE (as in beer as well as freedom)

Details
=======

KinkForAll is an ad-hoc gathering born from the desire for people of the kink, queer, sex-positive and related communities to share and learn in an open environment. It is an intense event with discussions, presentations, and interaction from all participants.  (It is inspired by the BarCamp community.)

ANYONE WITH SOMETHING TO CONTRIBUTE OR WITH THE DESIRE TO LEARN IS WELCOME AND INVITED TO JOIN.  When you attend, be prepared to share with others. When you leave, be prepared to share it with the world.

A KinkForAll is a special kind of gathering because there are no spectators, only participants. Attendees must give a talk or a presentation, help with one, or otherwise volunteer/contribute in some way to support the event. This is called sharing and we like it. All presentations are scheduled the day they happen—there are no pre-scheduled presentations or keynote   addresses. The people present at the event will select the presentations they want to see.

Anyone can present, on any topic related to sexuality. You do not necessarily have to teach a new skill or idea. You might share an experience, review a product, or read a poem. The goal is to start a discussion, make connections, and exchange knowledge. Presentations promoting specific commercial products or companies are discouraged.

Learn more about what to expect at http://kinkforall.pbwiki.com/WhatToExpect

Learn more about the event guidelines at
http://kinkforall.pbwiki.com/TheRulesOfKinkForAll

Get Involved
============

We need your help in spreading the word. Please help by participating.

Here’s how:

1. Get excited by reading the ideas on
http://kinkforall.pbwiki.com/KinkForAllNewYorkCity2
2. Add your name or handle to the list of participants
3. Join the mailing list and introduce yourself by emailing
kinkforall@googlegroups.com

Still have questions? Read the Frequently Asked Questions at
http://kinkforall.pbwiki.com/FrequentlyAskedQuestions

or email kinkforall@googlegroups.com for more details.

Donate
===========

 

Financial contributions for KFANYC2 can be made through the “Donate” button at the bottom of the KFANYC2 wiki page:
http://kinkforall.pbworks.com/KinkForAllNewYorkCity2#Donate

KinkForAll Online
==============

Participate online before the event at your favorite social networking web site:

Homepage: http://KinkForAll.org
Google: http://groups.google.com/group/kinkforall
Twitter: http://twitter.com/KinkForAll
Identica: http://identi.ca/kinkforall
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/KinkForAll/40066342762
Fetlife: http://fetlife.com/groups/2962

All primary organizational efforts are being coordinated via the mailing list. Join for free and help turn ideas into realities!

http://groups.google.com/group/kinkforall

It's a warm night and even with the a.c .working all day to fill the studio, a lank hug of humidity encircles my body.  The bottom, a well-inked, Brooklyn boy, is waiting in the Pit.  His girl friend, a fiesty, green eye'd Southern gal, is slipping into a fishnet, crotchless body stocking, exposing her rasberry nipples and shaved snatch.  She takes out a pair of platform stillettos and steps into the shiny, black shoes.  Perched on high, she blushes and giggles, "Ah've been practicing, but Ah can't walk quickly on these..."
It's okay, I assure her, she won't be standing very long. <wink.>

We greet the Boy in the Pit and intruct him to show gratitude with his tongue on our shoes.  He licks hard.
In a few swift steps, the Girl is lying on the bondage table.  I have tied her with simple rope at her wrists and ankles. 
Her eyes sparkle as she whispers to me, "Ah want ta feel 'im hurt." I know exactly what she means.
The boy is poised at her feet.
I begin with the softest flogger, brushing the air behind his muscular back, raising the smallest hairs at the nape of his neck.
His tongue begins softly exploring around the swell of her ankle.
I rain the flogger down, a steady thrum, drawing heat.
His lips open, kissing up her slim calves to the insides of her knees.
Harder with a denser flogger, slower beats.
He breaths across her thighs, his mouth working across netted skin.
As he moves to her center, I switch to a multi-tailed whip, a wild sting.
His face nestles between her legs and he moans and licks and sweats and licks.
I lash the whip.  Scrapes of red scrawls across his shoulders.
He is at her pussy, Her eyes are fluttering, (I am so fucking turned on).
On the Girl's command,  he crawls higher and undoes her wrists. 
Her hands fly to his body and she digs her fingers into his nipples.
She swipes her eyes towards me with a smile and I pick up my singletail.
The Girl pulls the Boy to her and as his hips thrust forward, his cock entering,
a slow moan fills the room and I am unsure who is sounding it, I almost wonder if it is me.
I remember my place and I lash the leather tail.
His body arches. Her mouth opens.
I strike harder.
Lost in their pleasure,
She feels His pain inside Her.

**SNAPS--Upcoming Event in San Francisco:
Cleo Dubois' Academy of SM Arts offers
The Erotic Dominance Intensive for Women, the Professionals' Course
August 14-15-16, 2009 at the SF Citadel
Gain a greater understanding of Fetishes, Art  and  Business Erotic Dominance!
Teachers: Cleo Dubois, Eve Minax, and Selina Raven
Details at:http://www.sm-arts.com/intensives/pros.html 
Apply at: http://www.sm-arts.com/intensives/form-pros.ht

**Snaps for the Francis Bacon exhibit at the Met. I've always loved the gruesome and turbulent images that haunt the Dublin artist's paintings, but I had only seen two, maybe three, of his paintings in person before this retrospective.   What sears into my mind, interestingly, is not the decaying pope faces or mutilated body parts, but the white chalky lines that box in the subject, the thin, golden  tassel that hangs ominously to the side, the stain of red on grey...

**Snaps for the Universe!!  I know that's such an easy, tree-hugging thing to say, but I'm obsessed with photos of constellations and nebulae right now, such as the mini-miniaturized Orion in my photo tab.  Check out NASA Astronomy Photo of the Day.  Browse the archive.  It's especially great for those of us city folk who are at our computers for much of the day (or in our dungeons).  Gives a little perspective...or rather a big one.

**Smirk: My New Evil, Shiny Things.

**Smirk: Luxirare.  I have to confess that during my thesis term, I got hooked on fashion blogs to decompress.  Most of it is great junk candy--but I adore this particular site because it combines fetish, fashion, and food in a seductively sensual way.  Leather garters (Please, Daddy, please, can I have them!?) and thigh high boots  and a close up of a black truffle all on one page. Swoooon!

**Summer reading.  Short stories of Tanizaki (1895-1965) and Chekhov (1860-1904). 

**Craving: Sea Urchin with Yuzu jelly at Matsugen.

** setting out to Montreal to cycle, eat, and play...xx

I met the gorgeous Mistress Matisse of Seattle a little while ago, with her companion and my sometimes play-toy, Traveler.  I was instantly charmed by her easy smile and quick wit and when I noticed the small erostek remote control she kept fingering in the palm of her hand, (along with the facial smirks of Traveler) I liked her all the more.  As we feasted on delectable cubes of tender filet mignon, we chatted about the Seattle leather scene and I described a little of the New York scene.  We both related that each had its perks and faults, but what stuck with me from our conversation about Seattle was Matisse's statement, "We might be a little crunchy, but we sure know how to organize."  She was referring to Seattle's Center for Sex Positive Culture.  Here's a description taken from www.sexuality.org:

"The Center for Sex-Positive Culture (formerly known as ``The Wet Spot'' or ``The SPCC'') is a non-profit organization which operates a real-life, membership-based community center for the benefit of the Pacific Northwest's sex-positive culture. Currently housed in a 4400 square foot main building (with several annexes) near downtown Seattle, this organization is unique in that it strives to serve all the local communities which comprise its region's sex-positive culture (e.g., the BDSM community as well as elements of the swing community, and everything around and in-between). This organization is a good starting point because it offers a wide variety of events, classes, dances, vendor fairs, informal social evenings, guest speakers, an extensive library, and discussion/support groups, with something almost every night of the week, and because gender and orientation are not barriers to membership (for example: single men are as welcome as single women)."  More info at: www.sexpositiveculture.org


I, a New Yorker, find myself jealous of what another city's got.  New York City's leather scene is a scattered one of various communities: TES, LSM, GMSMA, CV, etc, etc.  Throw some letters together and we've probably got an organization that fits.  And within those communities, there are multiple cliques, an array of events, classes, etc.  There is a LOT out there, as it should be.  It's New York, after all.  Not everyone wants to or should play in the same sand box at the same time.  BUT--why don't we have a center like Seattle's?  We have a Queer Center-- why not a building where all these organizations can rent rooms to teach classes, hold play parties?  Think about it-- it could be an open center for sex positive communities to teach safe BDSM, including pro-domination certification, tantra, sensual massage classes for couples, a place where I could hold more frequent Rope Shares (yes, I will be restarting that soon, I promise) and the list goes on...  IF there were a place, they (as in WE) would come...and be better politically out and visible.And with real estate plummeting and sex merchandise and sexually based blogs and web communities on the rise, isn't this the perfect time?

To take pride in one's sexuality is a rather odd concept if taken at the basic level of the act itself.  It's sort of like being proud of an appetite for chocolate or harboring conceit for liking the color purple.  It's the struggle against the discrimination that one takes pride in, the every day battle of being out and facing sneers, overcoming the humiliation of having one's lifestyle appropriated by idiot media and packaged as gaudy stereotypes or, even worse, shock stock.  As our country takes steps forward, albeit small and slow and sometimes many frustratingly backwards, in civil liberties of sexual freedom, coming out as queer and/or kinky is becoming...easier is not the word, but perhaps more optional.  Finding communities and people to connect with is certainly more convenient with the internet and the ever-growing amount of political and social outreach groups.

There is a whole new generation of kinksters who connect via blogs and web-communities-- they are taking Out to a whole new level of visibility and educational sharing, even in marketability (Go-Go capitalism!).  It's absolutely awesome.  I find that even clients in their 50's and higher, who have spent most of their grown lives thinking they have to endure with their secret leathers or petticoats tucked in the back of their closets, only to be donned in paid sessions, are finding the courage to come out to their wives, or, if single, date kinky.  It's a hard decision--I know.  I finally had the courage to come out to my mother last year and it ended in tears.

I am very close with my mother.  She is my inspiration of strength, intelligence, and nurturing.  A genetic engineer who is as skilled at extracting mono-clonal antibodies for AIDs research as she is with concocting a 5 course meal from her wok.  A single working mother, she brought up my brother and me with piano and violin lessons, homemade dumplings, and two cats.  She put us through college and stood by my side through my rough years of depression and self-mutilation.  She is, in every way, a healer.  When I hold her hand, I feel the completion of a heritage.

So it was always really disconcerting to hold my lifestyle so far from her, to void my practice and profession from our knowledge of eachother.  Eight years ago, I had told her vaguely about finding my way through depression after I returned from California.  Nervously, I spoke of rituals of worship and techniques of applying pain, of rules of consent and safewords.  I told her that these sessions were conducted in special rooms, with crafted instruments, that the practitioners often wore special regalia.  It sounded like her daughter had gone to California to "find herself" and ended up in a polygamist cult.  (I mean, that's kind of what leather families are-- right? hehe).  I could see the bewilderment and fear in her eyes and I didn't have the grounds to assuage those fears at the time, so I wrapped it up with the words "holistic healing...like acupuncture" to tie BDSM to something she could relate to.  It worked.  She sighed and patted me on the arm, near my teen angst cutting scars, and said, "As long as you're not hurting yourself anymore..."  I didn't tell her about my rituals with flesh hooks.

So through the years, I glazed over discussions of my profession.  Every so often I would tell my mother a little bit-- physical/psychological/holistic /attitude-adjustment trainer/guide/counselor.  I uttered the word "Dominatrix" to her and she replied, "My English isn't very good, I don't know that word."  It was an obvious way for a smart woman like my mother to say, "I'm not ready to know."  But time passed and I found a solid community of Leather/Queer friends in NYC, as well as a glorious relationship with a fellow kinkster--all which finally gave me the courage to tell my mother, "It's time for you to come to my studio, it's time for you to know."

(After all, ManMeat's family has known about our lifestyle and my profession for a while.  When his mother eye'd my cage during an educational visit to my studio, she exclaimed in her voweled South African accent, "Ouy My!  Ai hope you get mad at R- an' put 'im in there!"  I explained, "Oh no.  That's where he goes if I'm happy.  When I'm angry, he has to sit on the couch and watch the television.")

So I invited my mother to my studio.  From the subway, I held her hand as we walked down the street to the building, like a little girl pulling her mother to the zoo.  Inside, I let her walk in and look and I said nothing for a while.  Then I began to talk about bondage, about pain, about discipline, fetish.  I told her that even though I didn't have conventional sex with clients, it was still the sex industry.  I told her about the need for pain as a sadist and a masochist--She had seen me wrestle with it; She had been my lifeline.  She looked at the hemp ropes, the steel furniture.  Her eyes widened at the leather floggers and paddles.  Then she saw my alter and pointed to the Quan Yin statue, the boddhivista of Mercy, that she had given me years ago and her body relaxed.

We sat down and she said something like, "You have chosen a harder path that most people wouldn't understand or accept.  But you help others find safety in the same need that you have.  It takes a lot of energy to deal with so much pain." 

And then she said exactly these words, "I'm very proud of you."  And that's when I started to cry.

**This month I am not only celebrating my leather/queer pride; I am celebrating my mother's. Woot woot!

For my man Meat's birthday, I concocted a bondage adventure and enlisted Domina Darla Kincaid, otherwise known as "Nurse," and Azia Dia, carnival creator extraordinaire, to help me pull it off. First of all, note that Meat's birthday fell a week prior to my graduation, so he was quite sure that I couldn't possibly have the time to plan anything too elaborate. But I didn't have to-- I had a team of Ladies that could dust Charlie's Angels anytime.

I first prepped him with a thorough cleansing-- two full bags of warm, sudsy water, filling refilling and tested with a steel prod for cleanliness.
After a hot shower, I laced his torso into a fit, leather corset. A large electrical plug inserted into the sparkly pink hole and an electrical urethra stimulator, fixed with doubled condoms, under pink panties. Over this highway of wires, I dressed him in a smart suit for a night out on the town.

Nurse arrived with a wheelchair and neck and wrist braces. Accessories are so important for going out in a hip city like New York. The neck brace immobilized his head. We strapped Meat into the wheelchair at the waist, the chest, wrists and ankles. Over his eyes, Nurse Darla set a pair of black-taped dark glasses that curtained his sight completely. I tested the electrical and Meat moaned.

Nurse Darla pushed the wheelchair and it occurred to me that the absurd and the sexy often collide in my world. This gorgeous woman with long legs and milk white breasts heaving under a sheer summer dress was pushing my lover in a wheelchair. He was trapped in bewilderment and ecstasy. I was on the verge of orgasm and hysterical laughter.

We made it to the restaurant, a riverside establishment with a beautiful view of the harbor. The waiters were gracious and nervous, as they tend to be around handicap guests. Only the Maitre de eye'd Meat with a suspicious smirk. Perhaps he detected the straps on the arms. Perhaps he was just a mean prick to handicap people. Nurse Darla filled her role in perfect form, cutting food into small bites for our poor accident victim, as I applied electrical stimulation to encourage nerve recovery to damaged muscle tissue. It was a shame that from behind the black-out glasses, Meat couldn't enjoy the view...the sunset was so pretty.

After our dinner, we strolled with the victim to the water's edge and took off the glasses so that he could get a glimpse of the setting sun, the Statue of Liberty, and the great many people who were around us. We walked on to a private corner. Darla popped a red, rubber ball into Meat's mouth and held it in place with her hands as I covered his eyes with bandages and stuffed earplugs into his ears. We ace bandaged his entire head, closing his mouth over the ball. I slipped a mega-vibrator, disguised in a soft purse, onto his lap and we walked...turning up electrical, vibration on high...and then our victim lost control of his bodily functions. Meat muffled his moans into the red ball, unsure of his public exposure...but really, we were circling in the private corner. Noone was watching...I think.

It was time to return to the studio. We wheeled in and down the dark quiet hall. Darla pushed Meat into the middle of the room. His head still encased in deprivation, he patiently waited for us to unwrap his head to end the fun night...but then... multiple pairs of hands and feathers began to stroke and tickle him. I unwraveled the bandages...and SURPRISE!! Twenty of our closest friends were ready to celebrate with chocolate cake and red baloons. Meat was trapped in between delight and humiliation, a perfect blend for a Happy Birthday.

Thanks to all my fabulous friends for making this happen!
There is still a red balloon in my Dojo to remind me...
xx-Y