Hey man, whatever sinks your battleship

A few weeks ago I was walking down 4th Avenue near 14th Street. Coming towards me were a couple pushing one of those huge, monster, Hummer type strollers. There was pile of garbage bags, boxes, and junk piled up near the intersection, including a large, old rolled up carpet. The carpet took up the width of the sidewalk and the couple struggled to push the stroller over the carpet before they just lifted it over. I passed by them, stepped on and over the carpet and kept on walking. Then a man with a hand truck, waved to me and said, "There's a guy in there!" pointing behind me. I laughed a little, "Yeah, right" and kept walking.

"No, no there's a guy in there!" I looked back and a large man, crawled out from inside the rolled up carpet, his sweatpants pulled down revealing a pasty, plumbers crack. I jumped with a yelp and ran a couple of feet. What the hell?

The man in the rug was yelling at guy with the hand truck and pointing in my direction.

"Don't tell people I'm in there!" He yelled, pleading with the man with the hand truck. "I'm not homeless, please don't tell people I'm in there."

I turned and walked quickly down the street, my heart pounding, shaking my head with a grin. More power to you, buddy. I won't tell anyone you're in there.

So, if you happen to be walking down the street and see a very large, rolled up rug across the width of the sidewalk feel free to step on it.

Toy Review: Under the Bed Restraints

Part One: In which Tilda finds herself uncharacteristically as the restrainer.

There was a general plan: Nate* wanted to be tied up and I was going to fuck him while he was bound. Sounds good, right? He sat up on the bed against the wall. Lynsey tied his arms to his legs so his cock was fully available and I could straddle him. Or I tried to straddle him. After much shifting, slipping out, repositioning, falling over and slipping out again, we decided that there had to be a better way.

Ah ha! The Under the Bed Restraints!

I put them on the bed earlier that afternoon so they'd be there ready whenever I happened to need them. It was quick and easy to do. The most effort it took was flipping the mattress over. I assumed I would be the one breaking them in since I'm usually the one on my back with my legs spread.

Usually.

He looked fantastic with that red hemp wrapped around him, but for now the rope had to go. We probably could have figured out a better position, but there was no way I was going to wait to figure it out. In a couple of minutes he was out of the rope and in the cuffs, arms and legs akimbo with easy access to his very hard dick. 1, 2, 3. Easy, peasy. I threw a blindfold on him, stuffed my underwear in his mouth and I was ready to ride! He wasn't that squirmy, it's not like he wanted to fight what was happening, but I think they would hold up to some serious resistance. And I know of a few things that would make him squirm.

The next day, all I had to do is tuck the straps back under the mattress, ready for the next time when, hopefully I'll be the one all buckled up.

* Previously known as "Jeff"

Part Two to come: In which Tilda is in turn restrained.

From the Bottom to the Top

I always thought of myself as being rather bottom-esque. I tend to like being under men rather than over them. I like being out-of-control. I like being physically beaten down, worn out, used up. I like doing what I'm told and doing it well. 

I've been seeing how the other half-lives for a while now and you know what? It's fun over there. The first time I beat a guys ass (beyond a teasing spanking) I thought to myself, "This is really delightful! I can see why people like doing this!" Sitting on a guys face is a whole lot of fun. Making someone wince and squirm is pretty fantastic. People doing what I tell them to do? Even better!

So, this weekend I will have the opportunity to get a little bossy. Nate* wants to be tied up and I am welcome to have my way with him, whatever that means. I'm not sure yet. I am not a rope expert by any means, so I thought it would be good to bring in someone with some skills. I also think it will take some of the pressure off. I don't want to be the only one responsible, not yet at least.

I love the way this works; cute, sweet man wants to fuck me and get tied up. I want to fuck the cute, sweet man and my friend wants a man to practice tying up. See how the universe works?

People always think I'm a domme or a top or whatever you want to call it. I don't know if it's because I'm tall or what, but when I used to go to Paddles, I was usually approached by men asking me to spank them (or to let them rub my feet). I would tell them politely that I wasn't a top and they would inevitably respond with, "Well, would you like to try?"

At the time, I didn't. I was still figuring out what they hell I wanted. One kink at a time, thank you very much. At Leather Retreat last year, I was asked to help a woman kidnap her husband with a band of seven or eight other women. They beat the shit out of him. I was the one giving him sips of water, telling him what a good boy he was, and sucking his cock when it was over.

I've been sneaking over the fence for a couple of years. I might be ready to walk in through the front door. So this time tomorrow there will be a naked young man tied to my bed (or in a chair or something, I don't really know the details yet) and I'll do whatever the hell I want to with him and he'll like it...

God damn it.

Wish me luck.

* previously known as "Jeff"

Go Keith, Go!

I'll be your Samantha if you'll be my Lindsay

I had a dream the other night that I was trying out to be a d.j. at some club. I hadn't prepared in advance for it and I was up the night before making a mix c.d. from tapes and shit. The audition was held in what looked like a community rec room or something. There were 3 judges (one of them was David from Six Feet Under). I told the woman judge I was just starting out and didn't know how to mix (or "transition" as I called it in the dream). She said, "It's okay. You'll learn. It's more about your music choices right now." So I played my c.d. and there were a few people on the dance floor, but there were these big, long gaps between songs and more and more people left the dance floor. The judges just shook their heads in disbelief and disgust. Then my last song was, of all things, Last Dance by Donna Summer and that just ruined me. The judge just kept saying "What were you thinking?!" I said, "I told you I didn't know how to transition!" then the three got in their cars and drove away. I shouted after them, "Well screw you, assholes!" and gave them the finger. 

Originally posted on LiveJournal March 2004

From Amanda Palmer

Amanda Palmer and team would like to dedicate this video to Sarah Palin...

Pull my lever, baby.

I love these old voting machines (known as The Myers Automatic Booth in case you were wondering). I know at some point New York City is going to crawl kicking and screaming into the 21st century and get those ATM, robot, fucked up touch screen things, but I'm glad we still have these ancient clunkers. I love the mechanics. You can't miss that black X. Flipping down those little black levers and pulling back on that red handle with an authoritative ka-chunk is so satisfying!

Makes you feel like you're really doing something.