Jan 212017

One of the toughest things to do is to have a communication style that works for all humans in a relationship. The best you can hope for, usually, is that all parties involved remain in a compassionate mindset and keep striving to do their best to meet the other as close to the middle as possible. A power-exchange dynamic can torque this flow, sometimes, with the person on the submissive side of the / taking it upon themselves to walk a little further past parity in order to facilitate communication that best suits the dominant person. And, in some cases, this works well, since submissive types can glean a sense of pride from placing this into the modality of a service they are providing.

I’m well-practised on sharing my inner workings fairly quickly and venting when pressure is building up. This is, perforce, a vital weapon in my arsenal against freakouts because if I do NOT vent as close to real-time as possible, I’ll Krakatoa later and the resultant damage is vastly more difficult to maintain…and my recovery time-frame feels glacial. My beloved Spousemeister, while he has worked and continues to work hard at sharing, is recovering from a lifetime of feeling punished for sharing his inner workings, so he’s slower to reveal. And, when he does, his recovery time is quite rapid. My desire to be as perfect a submissive for him as it can be often pushes me to attempt emotional processes and recovery times that work effectively for him, but can drain my reserves and strain my ability to recover. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on Emotional Safeword.
Nov 052016
substantia jones photography

substantia jones photography

My first forays into BDSM were heavily influenced by service, and the concept that doing for others could be eroticised. Much of that was extrapolation from an initial encounter I’d had in the early 90s with a man which lead to my discovering that my feelings of submission in the sexual realm somehow spawned the desire to serve in ways that had nothing to do with sex.

Or so I assumed at the time. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on Nothing to Earn.
Jun 132016
 Dear Mr. Elba:

I’ll be in me bunk.

I admire your skill and talent as a performer. And I am thrilled to see a Black man ascend to the ranks of megastar in an industry that does everything to deny and homogenize. I do not wish to cast any shadow upon the tremendous nature of your achievements. However. You are making some career choices that are proving difficult for me.


Your decision to play Shere Khan in The Jungle Book means humans all over the world are strangely aroused by a Tiger of Dubious Morals. Would this have been the alpha and omega, I could have accepted this as an (odd, slightly uncomfortable slightly hot) anomaly.


Ride 'em, cowboy.

Hey, it worked for Zeus.

But then you struck again. I wound up watching several movies on a recent flight, and found it difficult to understand why I found Zootopia‘s Chief Bogo vaguely titillating until my research uncovered your particular voice talent as the culprit. But I understand. These are, of course, plum roles and who can blame you?


However the latest situation is troubling. Eroticising a tiger is hardly a stretch. Even the brawny majesty of the water buffalo can easily conjure iconography reminiscent of Greek mythology and the troublesome allure of the bullring.  But I am gravely concerned for my sanity and that of the planet when I learned that you are also in Finding Dory. My (initial, fleeting, freakish) hopes that your talent would bring to life some deep sea cephalopod – (after all, we have hundreds of years of history where tentacled creatures are represented within and the focus erotic fantasy!) but my hopes were dashed when I discovered that Fluke is, in fact, a seal.

No. just...no.

Oh dear. No.

Pinniped proclivities be damned…this is just way too far into an uncanny valley of WTF bonerism. I fear that, in several days, I’ll discover wide swaths of my subconscious crying havoc and letting slip the dogs of seal schtupping wet dreams. Like, really wet.



There is not much to be done for it and so I am sure to be dragged deeper in to all manner of freaky anthro yiff porn.


But I can handle it. I am, after all, an Executive Pervert.


Just promise – I beg You – if you’re approached to do the next installation of A Bug’s Life or Toy Story…have mercy. I cain’t be lusting after no bugs.




I’m still scarred from a run-in with a cache of Bondage Fairies comics.


Yours, Most Sincerely,


Mrs. Mollena Lee Williams-Haas

 Musings  Comments Off on An Open Letter To Mr. Idris Elba.
May 212016

One of the most ephemeral emotional states is that of satisfaction. The sensation of pleasure. By its very nature fleeting, satiation –  emotional satisfaction – is transitory. Emotions do not last. Persistence of vision, that illusory sensation of individual moments weaving together to form a coherent image – is not dissimilar to emotional memory, which can cling to us as we move in time.  Of course there are situations where, due to circumstance or chemistry, our emotional states remain on the extremes of experience or lie dormant and create the sensation of stasis.

Geo & Mo COkesFor most humans our emotional state, while variable, enables us to experience a wide range of feelings and yet retain perspective that reminds us that the extremes are not permanent and time will move us through them.

One of the main motivations for my alcoholism was a desire to control my emotional states, which frequently floundered beyond my control. If I was a little high on alcohol, my social anxiety became manageable, that worry about my finances gnawed less intensely on my nerves, and life seemed less of a meaningless grind.  Of course, there is only so long one can short-circuit the organic response to the vagaries of life and eventually you will find yourself dependant  – and possibly even addicted – to an artificial emotional modification that has rather unpleasant side-effects. Including death. SO… you can choose that continued oblivion or you can serenity prayer yourself the fuck out of that death spiral and accept the things you can’t change, have the guts to fuck up the shit you can, and have the goddamn smarts to be able to discern the fucking difference.

No, that’s not the original serenity prayer but fuck it. I gotta be me. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on Service is the drug.
May 032016

Gatewood-Side-eye-maskI don’t cower

I don’t kneel

I am never ‘less than’

I don’t beg

I don’t shrink

I am loud and aggressive

I’m not abused

I don’t take shit

I push back when need be

I pull hard when I have to

I fight demons

I feed monsters

I don’t iron

or scrub toilets

I make business deals

I make time

and dinner

I set boundaries

I move mountains

Defuse landmines

I comfort and Correct

I set deadlines

I make mistakes

And amends

I listen

Even more than I talk and

I talk a LOT

I’m loved and

I love hard

I love like

A Demon

A Mother

A Sister

A Lover

A Pet


A slave


 Musings  Comments Off on “I don’t…”
Mar 302016

Abiola Abrams is a raging powerstorm of amazingness and so when she says “I need you to write me something for Essence online!” I’m all “HELL YEAH!”

You can read the article here, but it only contains one of the three tips  shared. Keep reading to see what else I had to say, under pressure, wondering who the hell would listen to advice from me anyway.

Look at this happy Black couple stock image and weep at their magnificence.

Gaze in Awe upon this Happy Black Couple stock image and weep at their magnificence.

“11 Sex Secrets From the Experts That Will Set Your Bed On Fire!”

Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on Get the rest of the Essence!
Dec 182015

Many of us have been there. Doing the online dating thing. I am in the unique position of not only having perused just about all online dating formats available in the past couple of decades, but I have my roots in the primordial soup of online dating: newspaper ad dating. Before that? I’d even spent a couple of years working as an operator (read: decoy)  for “The One Line” (remember Party Lines, oldbies?!?).  My last desk job?  Working as a content slave for the FriendFinder empire. I have an advanced degree in online hookupery and profile-fu. SO believe me, I have been around the block, over the block, poked through the sewers under the block…I got it down.

From personal ads in the L.A. Weekly on to Craig’s List Casual Encounters, I have seen and done so many much. Despite endless, ready hookups and even one or two fun, moderately successful relationships, I never found the person who was fully ready to commit and who was thrilled by the possibility of an ongoing, monoamorous relationship.

“So, Mollena.” you well might ask, “why the FUCK did you keep doing that shit even when it was so rife with fail?”

GOOD Question! You can select any number and combination of the following:

  1. I’m a closeted sunny fucking romantic optimist.
  2. SOME luck is more than NO luck and it don’t take much to keep this bitch hunting!
  3. I’d seen other people have success.
  4. It gave me the feeling of being an active agent in orchestrating my destiny.

And I had enough fun flings, good times, and epic adventures to keep me tending those sketchy-ass virtual Lobster Pots of Love for years. Even the most miserable failed hook-up was rewarded with a prime chance to bitch to the world about it and wind up featured in the “Best of Craig’s List!

Until I decided that I was tired, that the last series of slaps and digs and faceplants was a sign for me to chill the fuck out, and I had a serious conversation with Ganesha in the shower in the dark one night.

Then sometime late on December 19, 2013, two years ago today, I opened OKCupid, read a few dead threads, scoped the suggested matches, and opened the following message.


Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on OKCupid Episode MDCCCXCVII: A New Hope
Dec 122015

Two years ago today I was feeling…depressed. Laid low after a failed attempt at a book / teaching tour, I was doing that thing where you TAKE STOCK OF YOUR LIFE  and was not sanguine about current status reports.

Being back in NYC thanks to the courtesy of the generosity of The Evil Jewish Lesbian Landladies and my own madness was a gift​, yet I was dogged by the knowledge that this was not a permanent situation. I’d had several decent writing gigs that had all evaporated within the past year, and that made paying even my modest bills impossible. Furthermore, I was almost through the money I’d saved while working for FriendFinder Networks, and that weighed heavily on me as well. 

And I was lonely. Even finding play-dates was hard. I’d work up the nerve to ask someone to play, and almost inevitably there would be some reason it wouldn’t come to fruition. Or I’d finally have a long-awaited play-date, and the person involved would make it abundantly clear this was not going to lead to a longer-term or more sustained connection. I was sure there had to be something wrong with me, despite copious evidence to the contrary. I was still making what felt like an unbelievably futile effort to find a partner despite knowing deep down I never would.

Jai Ganesha...!In the shower, in the dark, (what, you don’t shower with the lights out? You really should try it. It is amazing) in the middle of the night, I had a long talk with my higher power. About fear, about disappointment. About the mad leap of faith I’d taken to move back home and try to live life as an educator under the banner of Alternative Sexuality. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on Unless.
Dec 122013
photo by melvin moten (. erocrush)

photo by melvin moten (m. erocrush)

Dear Mollena…

It is tough out here.

When you are single, even tougher. You have been trying, with not much success, to be active in your search for a partner.

You have heard so many stories and seen so much that dents your already battered heart. I know I am not alone, and I want you to know you are not alone.

It is tough to be you. I see that, and I salute your strength. Continue reading »

Oct 262013

blown mindI was listening, the other day, to Dorothy Allison talk about truth, fiction, and making your own genres. I realized just now that the core reason I have been stuck with so much of the stuff I have to say is that I need Bigger Ideas and Stranger Canvasses than one normally sees in order to talk about my insides. I need Bollywood movies and 5 act Operas and anime and tone poetry and a little bit of that old Ultraviolence to get through, perhaps a bit, to others what I am feeling. I need to blow it up big enough to overwhelm and sicken and blow away folks so that maybe you get the tiniest dry rind of the fruits my heart grows. Continue reading »

 Musings  Comments Off on my voice.