Extreme Constraints

Part of the reason I've loved Extreme Restraints over the years is that I've been able to find good deals on products that seem to cost much more elsewhere. It's one thing, though, to get a deal on some lube or other commercial item and quite another when the low prices are the result of ripping off an artisan's work and having it cheaply mass produced elsewhere.

Seems that's what XR's been doing lately. I do not approve.

Because it's okay to dress like a dominatrix...

...it's just not okay to actually BE one.

Well, actually, it IS okay to be one. Just not to get paid for it.

You know, I have no desire to ever marry. Can't we just pretend I'm collecting my wife credit now?

Sigh. See, it's my compulsive, nitpicky honesty that just undercuts my humor every time.

Fun pics in that link though.

What's Changed

Since my blog's been private, I've received dozens of invitation requests. Most of them were from y'all but I got a few from the "We've never met, but..." crew. Call me a softie but those are the ones that have pained me the most.

It's, like, so much of what this world has been about for me is trust. You trust me with this secret part of yourself. I trust you to respect me in my role as the dominant. You trust me to keep you safe. I trust you to do the same.

And now, that's all kinda gone.

I'd had plans to play with a couple of people before all this crap happened. Instead, I met one for dinner, another for a coffee. I sat with the fellow over dinner, on the verge of tears again as I realized how this was something I was once so comfortable with and so much enjoyed and was always just so damn sure of myself ... and now I had no idea what to think.

Over coffee a week or so later, the other prospective play partner was showing me all his identification papers and travel documents. "See? Do you trust me now?" he asked.

"Nope," I said.

Sucks.

MTO Invitational

I don't have plans to be posting all that much here but I appreciate that y'all wanted to keep abreast (heheh... who doesn't?) of whatever I might have to say.

Truth is, there ain't much. I'm fine. I'm not in trouble. I just realized I didn't need a visible profile any more: it's not worth the risk right now. As one of you said to me: "Prudence is so hot!"

I love play. I love playing with y'all. There's nothing I'd love more than to do that. So let's just say I ain't playing for work. Just fun. I've always had a vanilla gig that keeps me afloat just fine. So anything I talk about here is just about fun. Not work. It's not about the money. Never has been. It's just about love. And fun.

Operation: Field Trips ... UPDATE!!!

My sister just wrote me a thank you note that she asked I pass on to all of you who contributed to "OPERATION: FIELD TRIP." You have no idea how happy it made this big sister to hear her little sister's excited voice talk about her plans for her students. Thanks to all of you who contributed. Those who still wish to donate may do so by sending cash, check, or money order to:

Operation: Field Trip
P.O. Box 93973
Atlanta, GA 30377

If you're writing a check or money order, make it payable to: "CIE" and in the memo put "CC Field Trip Fund." I suggest cash be sent with a delivery confirmation.

I cannot begin to tell you how (let me take it back 80’s style) “totally awesome” this year is going to be. After putting into place the concept of "Project: Outdoor Classroom," I thought all summer about ways to best put your donations to use. I came up with a socially conscious theme of caring outside of our own understanding. As a class this year we are going to pen pal with students at the International Community School here in our state. This charter school has been established for the past ten years and its mission is to bring together refugee, immigrant, and native-born children to nurture them in an academic setting. The school brings out their gifts and talents and assists in the healing of the deep physical and spiritual wounds of war. This joining of forces will help bridge the gap between two worlds, promote world knowledge, and create life long friendships.

Our other fieldtrip plans for the year include journeys to the CNN Center, The Fernbank Museum of Nature and Science, the Center for Puppetry Arts, and the Fabulous Fox Theater to see The Alvin Ailey Dance Theatre of Harlem. The end of the year trip has me fired up! I have been fortunate enough to see Alvin Ailey every year for the past 23 years. Of my most recent tours, I can remember wishing that my students had the opportunity to see the talented troupe. With tickets, starting at $17.00 per person that hope was unquestionably out of reach. With the state of Georgia on the cusp of canceling all non-athletic related field trips due to budget cuts, the idea of taking my students to see a dance ensemble is not high on the priority list for the school board. With private funding, I am able to expose my students to the arts, the world, and education all while having a blast!

Your donations are benefiting my students in a way that I could never imagine. The county limits each grade level to two field trips per year, this year, and none next year. With your help, I will be able to take my students on a trip every month. As of right now, the final trip will require that the students pay a portion of their ticket price to Fox Theatre. I am incredibly thankful for all of the scholarships you have provided. My students are in for the year of their lives, and I have you to thank. I will make sure to send pictures and journal entries to keep you posted. On behalf of my students, I want to say thanks for the opportunity to see the world through a new lens.

Yours Truly,
The Open Air Classroom

Sidebar Updates Explained!

While I was traveling, I kept having these little observations or ideas that weren't substantive enough for postcards or blog posts but weren't things I wanted to go unacknowledged, either. (e.g. Rome is covered in graffitti. My favorite tag? "ZEU$")

Consequently, I've decided to join Twitter. You should see my "Tweets" over there to the left. I'm not 100% sure about this little application -- from how it works to how much I'll use it -- but I'm going to try it for a while and I encourage you to follow me. For a NYTimesian perspective on Twitter and "ambient awareness" click here. (I was particularly swayed by the line, "Follow [someone's Twitter posts] for a day, though, and it begins to feel like a short story; follow it for a month, and it’s a novel.")

We'll see. Let me know what you think about Twittering, too.

******

I finally got a resy at Ko, thanks to The Headliner's gracious, geeky tenacity. I went with a dear, long time friend who eats and drinks professionally. Our dinner was delicious, though more memorable for the road getting there than for what was served. Or maybe it'd just been too long since I'd seen my friend. While I certainly would go again if given the opportunity or as part of an OE, my free session offer is no longer available.

And, Headliner? I owe you. Big time. Just name it.

******

One of the things my vacation made me realize is that ... well, I needed one! In an effort to manage my schedule better, rather than close the door to all new clients, I've decided to implement some additional qualifiers. First, I am not seeing any novices. You must have some professional BDSM experience in order to receive an appointment. While I do get a distinct pleasure out of molding a newbie, I'll be having my fun redefining what a session is for the veteran players for a while. Secondly, for those who have experience whom I have not seen before, you will need to provide me references before I agree to give you an appointment. If you've seen any of my known associates (anyone I've mentioned or linked here or on my website), just her name will do. Otherwise, I want two verifiable contacts so I can find out for sure if you're as promising as your thoughtful, engaging, and responsive introductory email would lead me to believe.

Rome Antics

While I didn't get up to much kinky while I was away, I did pick up a fair bit of leather, including a gorgeous butterscotch leather jacket, a belted, black vest, and a really cool pair of black leather gloves that fit snugly to the hand and wrist, only to puff all the way to the elbow.

Funny thing, gloves. I love the idea of them and I have several pair, including custom made La Crasias of the thinnest, softest leather that come up nearly to my elbows and have that fetishizable, three button closure at the wrist. I have "past the elbow" gauntlets that sleeve my arm quite sexily. Two or three pairs of lined, wrist length leather gloves for winter. And a gorgeous, cheek-soft, Italian pair I got in Venice last year whose wrists fold back to reveal a red, red leather contrast lining.

I love wearing gloves to keep my hands warm, but wearing leather gloves in session is a little counterintuitive. It's like sense deprivation for me. Touch is such a part of my play that covering up my hands removes, like, 30% of my sensory input. Maybe more. And all the gloves I have are seamed on the inside, so my fingers feel thick and dull when I wear them. If I ever was to offer some sort of paraphilia session, though, I think it'd be for the gloves. Heck, I derailed my own blog post to talk about them!

Where was I? Oh, yes. Rome. Prego.

So I didn't get up to much kinky. Mostly I ate. "When in Rome" and all meant I was doing the multi-course primi piatti e secondi piatti at every meal. I'd gotten recommendations from my food friends and done a lot of Internet research on where to go. At Maccheroni, my first night in Roma, I sat in the "kitchen room" with a prime view of the cooks (I have a chef fetish, of all things. I do.) as well as a glimpse of the tables full of animated Italians on the cobblestoned street outside. My hunky, handsome waiter asks, "Where are you from?" "New York," I tell him. "Oh, I am going to LOVE you!" he promised, his tongue unfurling dramatically over Love.

Tucking into my carbonara and carpaccio, I fantasized about pinning his shoulders under my knees and ...

At the end of the meal, I told him I wanted just a taste of something sweet. He brought a shot glass brimming with lemon sorbetto and a card with his contact info on it. "Lovely Pirate" it said.

Dining alone's not always a bad thing.