NYC and The New Site

February 22nd to 26th I'll be accepting guests in New York City, a place I have not yet managed to love. My memories are mostly from a trip I took many years ago with a group of other Professional Mean Ladies. A lot of wild moments were created for ourselves and the poor men of New York, but I didn't have anything near a great time. I was quite affected by the concrete all around, the lack of eye contact, and the disconnected urban world. I was used to San Francisco and Los Angeles, two extroverted cities if ever a city could have that designation. SF is like the south- we chat with you in the train station about those great shoes or your adorable little dog. We talk to strangers and even invite them into our homes. We are likely to engage connection when given the opportunity. By contrast, New York was a closed door.

Then I went to Paris.

It turns out that self-isolation is one way of dealing with crowded conditions. One can only handle so much stimulation and, as anyone who has studied the brain can tell you, eye contact is a very powerful stimulant. Aside from the warm and chatty reception from French friends and non-Parisians, the coping mechanism of choice in Paris is avoiding eye contact, self-encapsulation via headphones and a straight stare. After this realization, I wonder if I will perceive New York City any differently. These days I feel that I have more understanding of the introverted urban style of survival, but I'm still a California girl at heart. I still want to talk about your cute dog.

Help me love NYC. Send me an email about something magical you have found there and inspire me!

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I'm pleased to introduce the new site, which will be appearing March 1. New photos, new words, new world. Enjoy!

Autumn Update

Here's a bit of news for those wondering what I'm up to.

• Autumn is my favourite time of year- the crisp leaves and air, the golden quality of light, and all of the holidays dedicated to the gourmand- sweet and savoury. 

• My new website is deep in production and while I can't give a release date at the moment, I can tell you it looks fantastic so far. New photos, new words, new everything. 

• This blog will move to the new site and continue to serve as a collection of stories, articles, fantasies and philosophies. Comments have been disabled and will remain that way in the future. Please share your thoughts via email from now on, and I'll let you know if I'd like to publish them on my site. News will not appear here but rather on the front page of the shiny new site.

• I am musing on the idea of London and Paris this winter. I've never been to Europe in the winter and many friends are calling for a visit. If you'd like to see me there in December or January, now is the time to pipe up.

• Seattle in December. It feels like it has been an awfully long time since I've been to the northwest, but I have trips planned for both December and March now. The dates for both are not yet set, but the December trip may be in conjunction with another Lady friend with whom I hope to team up!

• I am organizing a playful sale/auction of some of my previously enjoyed lingerie to benefit a charity I support. Stay tuned for the details!

Warmly,

    Violette

Home Again

I'm finally back from France!

This summer I stayed seven weeks, primarily in Paris. Little things, tiny sensual pleasures, are essential to my life. Paris is full of opportunities to share those pleasures privately, with a special companion, with a stranger. I collect these pleasures all summer long: walking the extra distance for the baguette which is more perfect. A store that sells nothing but soft, diaphanous dresses. Cheese from the organic cheesemaker who has only two cows and only sells at the Sunday market. A shop that sells nothing but perfumes made of roses. And the Metro entrance!

For two of those weeks I traveled around, seeing tiny islands off the Atlantic coast and the sunny, sandy Mediterranean Sea. I have a special place in my heart now for La Ciotat, where the right staircase just off the boardwalk brought me to a quiet courtyard for homemade ice cream. I have a very profound appreciation for good ice cream. St. Etienne was warm and floral, full of open plazas and leafy cafes. In Brittany I discovered the ultimate combination of sugar, butter, and flour: Kouing Aman. I walked along the coastline there, surrounded by semi-wild horses and Arthurian legends.

I left Marseille the same way I always do- baffled about why I didn't plan to stay longer in the first place. By turns rough and refined, Marseille is the port town to beat all port towns. One of my favourite parts was Noailles, a neighborhood described as "Algiers in Marseille." The sugary North African pastries form mountains on either side of the crowded alleyways. Another new favourite discovered there: Kalb-al-louz, or "heart of almond," which looks so plain but tastes heavenly. 


I'm obviously a little enamoured of the places I've been this summer, but I am also relieved to be home in my own luxurious bed, returning to the people and places I've missed here, and to the little sensual pleasures of life in California.

Las Vegas Reverie

In the afternoon, my slave and I step out of the golden lobby of the hotel and into the crisp sunlight. My heels are provocatively high, but otherwise we look like a well-dressed couple having a nice luncheon with friends. The friends look the part as well- two women in classic black dresses, wine glasses in hand, beautiful with their no-nonsense smiles and that certain air that only a clued-in few read as Dominant Woman. The restaurant is delicious, but he's having trouble sitting still. The rope is rubbing between his thighs and he hasn't spoken a word since we sat down. "Suffering much?" the blond addresses him. He shrinks in place while still sitting upright and proper. The cuffs are the only piece of his elaborate bondage not concealed by his clothing, and the booth seats effectively hide those, too.


After lunch, I try my luck at the tables. Blackjack. I use his wallet to gamble while he stands waiting behind me, carrying my purse, rubbing my shoulders, fetching me drinks. Occasionally I reach behind to twist his balls under the chastity cage. I tease him while he's locked up, slide my dress up enough to show my garters. eventually, I allow him to play, too. I win big though and he keeps his end of the bargain.

In the warm hotel room, I hear a knock at the door. He's been cleaned out head to toe and fed on the leftovers of mt room service dinner, consumed at my feet. He answers the door and tries to hide his bound body at the same time. I've locked his clothing in the safe, of course. At the door is our gorgeous VIP submissive escort - picked by me, paid for by the slave.  She's surprised to see that I'm not alone, but also curious about the dynamics at play here. I secure him further and push him into the closet where he can hear everything and see only a sliver of the room beneath the door. If I had lost at the tables, it would be her in the closet. I'm lucky though, so he'll have to watch our heels and her knees as she crawls across the floor toward me. He'll pant and pant with his face pushed against the closet floor, trying to see more as I take her over my knee and her squeals become gasps which become cries or pain and arousal. He'll salivate and thrust against the floor when he sees me push her down to the floor, angled just out of sight while I take full advantage of my prize.

Dr. Strangekink (or How I Learned to Stop Giggling and Crave the Release)

People love to explain the childhood root of their kink- seeing mother or auntie in silky stockings, being tied while playing cops and robbers, or spankings from the headmistress.

I'm sure we all have some some things we've craved since we were young, but what about those that show up later on? I'm particularly interested in our learned fetishes- things that we didn't eroticize at first, but which became hot or exciting after repeated association. The fetishes we (or others) trained us to crave.

One such fetish of mine is golden showers. The first time I let go on someone was also one of my first experiences getting paid for it. At first, I thought to myself, "This is ridiculously funny that someone wants to pay for this! Still, it's easy enough and this person seems to be amused." Very quickly it became less goofy and more enjoyable.

Before long I had a personal toilet whom I saw several times a week. We had appointments in his home, in the small room specially outfitted for these meetings. Toilet seats, funnels, towels, water bottles, and a variety of other toys would be laid out for my selection. Beyond that, there was a certain ritual- the incense was always the same, the altar at my eye level, the candle light illuminating us both in this very particular way I began to associate with standing over a submissive. We would occasionally meet in a public restroom or have drive-by handoffs of bottles full of my piss. Sometimes I would just be in his neighborhood and call him up to announce that I'd be there in 15 minutes and he'd better be ready. Often, I would bring a friend and we'd take turns so that he had almost no pause in the deluge.

But the ritual combined with the sight of his open mouth below me, spurring him to open wider, swallow more, not miss a drop... over time the sensation of relaxing my bladder and opening my urethra became linked to the surge of erotic power. Golden showers went from fun to exciting, to arousing. Every bathroom visit was a wasted opportunity to drench someone.

At that point I started to get off on GS not only as a form of domination and ritual connection, but also for humiliation. The spatter across the glasses of a squirming slaveboy or the look on my submissive's face: tears and disgust and excitement all at once. I love watching awkward sluts lick every drop off the filthiest floor I can find. My own lust transferred over to others in time, so that they in turn began to think of piss play as a turn-on, something to beg for.

Reward or punishment, humiliating filth or sacred nectar, I've somehow acquired this craving for golden showers.

My Latest Obsession

The Mutt, Part II

The mutt will be both hungry and thirsty after such an ordeal and what you do to meet those needs will make all the difference in the world. It's important that your dog know its place in the home, and food is a great motivator. Food should never be given without having been earned. Humiliating tricks, manual labour, mental work, or requested enthusiasm may be rewarded with food, or perhaps the food itself will be humiliating to eat. That all depends upon the type of human canid you've taken in. With a filthy little street rat like this one, the toilet water should be left accessible in case it is thirsty. If the mutt doesn't drink on its own, you may find it beneficial to either tether it to the toilet on a short leash or push its face into the toilet for encouragement.

You'll want to show the mutt where to relieve itself, too. Even if you don't intend to keep it, you won't want puddles all over your floor. Immediately after the dog has had a drink of water (or whatever you're giving it), bring your pet to the place you'd like it to go. This might be a puppy pad or newspapers in the corner of the room, or it might be a nice strip of grass outdoors. You'll want a dog that feels comfortable emptying itself in your presence, so I suggest acclimating the mutt early to both your physical presence and that of other dominant Ladies while it is making its toilet. Reward or punish according to your own program!