Aug 202009

I’ve never worn this skirt.

Sure, it is innocuous. Not even that clingy for a latex garment. But as a fat girl I don’t see latex modeled much for women my size.

SO, I can never imagine myself in it, clingy and revealing or no.

But I’m fucking tired of being self-conscious so I dragged out this little flippy latex cheerleader skirt from hiding in the bottom of my bottom drawer. My main fetishwear drawer.

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Apr 142009

There are lots of kinks I’ve not fully explored.  Some because of a lack of interest, some because they are a bit esoteric or don’t really grab me or some because I just haven’t gotten around to them.


Could I have been ANY more fucking adorable? No. I couldnt!

Could I have been ANY more fucking adorable? No. I couldn't!

As a performer, role-playing is a fairly easy BDSM scenario for me to embrace. Pretending and make-believe has been my second home since I was 5 years old and went on my first audition.  My first boyfriend and I used to have all sorts of silly scenarios we would play out, and so it has never been far from my sexuality.

 What WAS new to me was playing a non-human role.  OK, yes, I did play a flower under the troll bridge in “The Three Billy Goats Gruff” in the first grade, but that was a departure for me. I had not seriously considered the idea of reverse anthropomorphization prior to actively entering the kink community.  And even then, I thought “Well, if it does it for you, than great, but if not, why bother?”

 But trying and tasting is half the fun, is it not?

 My first exposure to animal role-play was through several friends who were pony and puppy play people. I certainly saw the appeal! You get loads of attention, you can behave as you wish, and correction is never personal, never damaging, and never harsh. Communication is simple, hand gestures or vocal cues are all an animal can rely on when hearing from their human “trainers” or “owners”

 I always found it delightful to watch people play in this headspace. Years ago, at a Black Rose event in DC, I remember walking through the dungeon and SWEARING I heard a horse in the other side of the space. It was, in fact, a human pony who had mastered, eerily, the sound of whinnying horse.

 I’ll never forget being in a private party with a friend very much into pony play and getting to play a bit while they were in pony space. To be honest I was very startled at the emotional and energetic change that overcame them, and how looking into their eyes was an entirely different experience than it was over supper several hours before. Something was definitely…shifted.

I have only had one glimpse into that realm myself once when attending one of the Bizarre Flea Markets hosted several times a year here in San Francisco by Lady Thorn. It is a fun place to hang out, browse toys and meet up with friends.  I was chatting with a friend near a table that displayed lots of pony play gear when a particularly elaborate piece caught my eye. As someone who loves costuming, I am always the “crow to a shiny object” when it comes to fancies.  This bridle and harness had the added draw of being unusual in its composition; it was made with brown suede, very beautifully crafted.

 The woman vending it looked at me, and looked back at the piece “You know, it is remarkable…that is almost exactly your skin color…”  I nodded absently, as I was mid conversation with my friend who suddenly squealed and threw the thing over my head insisting that I try it on.  I looked to the vendor for help, thinking this wasn’t a cool thing to do but alas, she was busily unbuckling the other side of the thing to run the straps over my forehead, around my ears and under my chin.  A miniature snaffle thudded against my teeth and within 30 seconds, I was sporting a soft brown horns nosed muzzle, perky ears, a miniature mane and bright red plumes.


 I felt pretty dumb.

“Oh my GOD you look AMAZING!!!” the vendor trilled

 “Yeah, of course…$475 worth of amazing if I fall for that…” I grumbled to me.

 The reins were tossed over my head and my friend, petite as she was, slapped my hip and ordered me over so she could ride.

 Bemused, I complied. Why not? We are all perverts here!


Well, on board she dug in her heels and I set off around the space, with people seeming quite amused at the display.

 “I didn’t know Mo did pony play?” I hear more than a few times as I trotted around, thankful that my friend had some riding experience and that my hips are pretty damned sturdy.

 At one point, we stopped and someone asked her if they could pet me. “Who the fuck do you thnk you are?! I am right here, hello!!” I thought.  I turned my head to one side to glare at them but the blinkers made this difficult without a whole body shift. Then the whole thing shifted. He hadn’t asked me if he could touch me, because…he didn’t have to. I wasn’t a speaking person, I was this role, and therefore vulnerable to the whims of my owner. Even more than a person in a submissive role, a person in an animal play role is dependant on their “keeper” for protection.

 As she gave her permission and the person stroked me mane and shoulders, approvingly patting my rump, I felt oddly soothed, arranging the bit in my mouth and just enjoying the attention. I’d never had the experience of tough being grated around my permission, and it was incredibly soothing, actually.

 Several more people decided they wanted to play, so of course I was soon stamping out my age with a “hoof” and tossing my head in delight at a particularly lovely “scritch”

 Alas, playtimes soon had to be over. The harness returned, the bit dropped into disinfectant and the seller offering me a really good deal on the outfit…if I wanted it.

 I wasn’t able to afford it that day, and besides…I’m not into pony play….

 …but every once in a while, I wish I had that harness, that soft nose, those perky ears, and perhaps a tail and hooves.

 Who doesn’t sometimes want to be the very special pet of a loving owner, if only for an afternoon?

Nov 252008

I am aware that there are people who enjoy “messy” sex as their kink.

I was, not too long ago, at dinner with friends. When one poured a mini-pitcher of au jus down the shirt of  the other (to my shocked dismay, let me add) the saucee was less dismayed by the impromptu gravy anointing as they were by the fact that a freshly inked tattoo might be impacted by the unprescribed salve.

I am familiar with this kink even though stickiness makes me want to run to a sink and wash!

I am also well aware that pretty much anything can be sexualized…

I wonder at how something as specific as a girl stuck to something becomes fetishized….a hot summer day…sidewalk…gum…flash of a thigh and a whiff of sweat as a frustrated hottie struggles to detach a shoe from a melted wad of gum?

Decades later that kid is now an adult trying to recapture that moment?

 I am not sure how that happens…but part of me is glad that something that is, at its core, somehow essentially innocent can be the fulcrum of a powerful sexualized image.

Oct 292008

I know it is tough. When you are surfing the interwebs to look for love, perhaps you lack the time to read every line of every profile of every woman into whom you want to stick your penis.

But please.

My gods.

Some of the responses I get to my profile.

This gem today in my mail from my profile…

WOW -YOU AMAZE ME. YOU CUM stay with me 4 awhile. YUM – I’ll tie you to the bed till you say uncle. LOL Seriously I’d love to get to know you a lot better.

Seriously. NEVER.

This next one is less ridiculous and more along the lines of an awesome typo:

Having read your profile I’m not sure whether i’d want to kiss you, duck you senseless, or tie you down and beat the sass put of you.

If a sass-put is anything like a shot-put, I’ll pass. And I believe CA has laws against mallard mauling, but I’ll have to get back to you on that.

This next guy…holy shit.

Let me preface this with the fact that his picture is…well, it was him with a ……aw, fuck it.

Here is the photo he uses in his profile:

Seriously. Stop.

My desires is to gain control and not let the sub have any freedom. I want them to worship me like a God. My desires to my sub are to make them feel they cant do anything without me , make them into a doll and I, am the chains that move the doll. I have a years experience.

A year. A YEAR and you plan on Stepfording me?!?!

*chokes back a sob*

A most profound moment of Zen settled over my troubled soul like god’s hand on a restless sea when I received the following solicitation on the first contact …TEH FIRST MESSAGE, y’all…from a “person” on

damn you a big fine open to k9?

This is, at the VERY LEAST, a third date gambit.

I know you feel my pain, you who are online looking-for-love-or-a-reasonable-facsimile-thereof…

Oct 252008

I often felt kinda guilty about the raw nasty sex I used to foist upon my dolls as a kid. Did you know that the original Star Trek play-set was smartly fitted with a “working transporter” had the capacity for 2 figures if you 69ed them? No, no you didn’t!

Lego your ego and SUBMIT.

Lego your ego and SUBMIT.

Yeah, Barbie got it from Kirk too. Ken wasn’t my style. But mostly Captain J. Tiberius Kirk was all for Lt. Uhura. After The Kiss That Changed Television, all I wanted to do was grow up to be a switchboard operator wear a short skirt and glance in surreptitious longing at the shiny boots of the Captain of the USS Enterprise, NCC-1701.

Oct 092008

I will blatantly pimp today.

I have been a pervert for a long time.   My High School boyfriend and I liberally applied handcuffs and hogties in the bedroom. Back then, it was pilfered clothesline from his Mom’s laundry supplies. That very first relationship was, for a while, a triad.  Yeah, I had it goin’ on, even back in the day when a date meant going to see Under The Cherry Moon and sneaking into Nell‘s with our fake IDs.

I hit the online milieu back in the late 90s, and never looked back.

There are many, many sites on the intertubes where perverts can go lounge around in virtual splendor. From Gorean chat-rooms where red-silk kajira kneel & serve & hump their slave heats all over cups of paga, to FurCon discussion boards, there is something for everyone.

Before you start capping on the Furries, know that I find them adorable.

Before you start capping on the Furries, know that I find them adorable.

There also are eleventy billion people profiting obscenely over the deluge of obscenity. Lots of companies make a shitload of money catering to the kinks and funneling off the wallets of the perverati.

I should know. I work for the biggest.

Working for a huge ass company for whom your personal, precious perversion is merely an exploitable demographic is, to say the least, mentally discombobulating. I feel a bit like a turncoat triple agent pervy mole.

But at least I get to watch men putting huge things up their asses first thing in the morning.

You gain some, you lose some.

When I started my new job Editing and wrangling content for 2 ALTernative, fetish and Bondage sites, I was a somewhat nonplussed because I had a long history on one site. I’d been blogging there for several years, it was my Very Fist Blog, and now here I was through the looking glass!

Except on this side of the looking glass there aren’t very fucking many perverts.

A few weeks ago, I was in a conference call trying to disabuse several people of the notion that giving out site-branded flyswatters at the Folsom Street Fair was NOT going to provoke confusion. Non-con smacks, possibly. Cluelessness as to their intended use? No, not really.

So where does a Perverted Negress go when she wants to perv out and NOT have it be a site owned by The Man?

FetLife, that’s where.

It is the best game going, in my Not At All Humble Opinion.

The dude that runs it, John Baku, has a bunch of pervs running a tight ship. The site is free. The discussion are lively. Unlike some places-I-could-name-but-won’t, you can hotlink to whatever the fuck your nasty, sick, deviant heart desires from anywhere on the site. Further ingratiating me to it,  John gives no  leeway to people posting stupid ass blinky sparkly shit all over the site. It will never be FuckSpaced into horror.

MOST critically, it is privately owned and operated by kinksters.

And Mr. Baku says he won’t let that change.

Fuck yeah.

I hope so.

I dig his site. Oooo, and watch this, biotechs! I even support it financially.

If you happen to be on FetLife, and can hold off on a latte for a goddamned day, donate $5. If you can skimp back on a couple of dinners out, donate $60.00, Hell, iffen you ain’t a member, just donate in the name of the RNC Memorial Pervert Fund.

With that donation, you get a dope little banner on your profile, and as well, you have the happy warm fuzzy of knowing you put your money where your fuckin’ mouth is. And therefore can feel justified when you start ranting on the FetLife Rant Forum about how frustrating it is that you can’t reply to threads and e-mal from yer mobile phone.

When someone takes the time to build a resource by perverts for perverts and it is bloody fucking well done, give it up!

Plus, today I got two notes from two sexeh men with accents on FetLife, so mad props for bringing me today’s “LDR Fantasy Dom & Wank Fodder”! W00t!