Why Tuesdays are Worse than Mondays in my World: Curse of the Evil Lady.

Ok. So.. if you're here to subject yourself to an entertaining piece of literature in the form of an e-mail of someone getting paid THREE times as me (at least) and "trains" me how to do my job here it goes:

Good morning
On ____________ Sheet, ____ Inventory, and __________Report must match before you start keying for the next week. This mean you need to set down with the _____ people before you start your current week. Your _____Inventory must match your ____ Inventory Sheet and ___ Report, I will like to see this report before any site start keying for the next week. So you can call or email me when you are finishing with your reports. Please put paperwork in daily, as I go thru the report I am seeing mistake, so please organize your day, so you can have time to input CFA. Thank for what all you'll do. Your work is very appreciated.


I received the above e-mail this morning. Before this woman commenced to make my day a living hell. I'm a bit blessed, for now she's not there every day. She only comes in on Tuesdays anymore (and the last hour before I leave on Monday, which is also it's own form of hell).

I had the same reaction: Wowwwwwwww.

Followed by: How the HELL is this the woman I answer to?!?!?!

So anyways... I had it out with this woman today. It's frustrating enough that I'm teaching her how to use her own program and that I'm formulating reports she's taking credit for but then today, today she threw down.

Her: "Why you doing it like this?"
Me: "Because that's how I was told to do it."
Her, incredulously: "Who told you to do it that way????"
Me: "You."

I asked many times when she told me, ARE YOU SURE you want it this way, because it doesn't make sense for this and that reason... There were witnesses. Some even stepped forward today. I'm sorry, she was wrong and I put that in her face when she tried to dump it in my lap. So we'll see what the outcome of that will be in the future.

Honestly, I SO would rather deal with the mob.

Sorry this doesn't have fetish, porn, sex, or anything of that nature in it. I'm boring.

Morals? Where did these come from???

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Another Day, Another Shoot at Kink.

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I was asked an interesting question...

He wondered if I would still be involved in the lifestyle if I hadn't lost my father at such a young age. (He died a week before my 5th birthday. Drunk driving accident. Don't do it, folks. You become a deadly weapon when you toy with even buzzed driving).

This was my response:

A very good question.

The short answer is yes.

I would probably not have the Daddy/LG attraction as much as I do. I wouldn't have missed out on that relationship, causing a void in my past that I now try to exorcise through ageplay and with my penchant for Daddy Doms, rather than simply sadistic tops or dominants.

I was, however, born a spanko. I got turned on from watching spanking scenes in cartoons as far back as my toddler years. I would read and reread passages from stories where the main character, a child my age, would receive some sort of corporal punishment as a consequence of foolish actions. Of course I didn't know what it was at the time-- it just felt like my tummy feels when I went on a roller coaster. But I liked it.Same thing when someone was whipped. I'm preconditioned to get wet from this stuff.

Gay men and women were considered psychologically unsound 10 years ago for their sexual proclivities. People thought that some event in their past caused them to suddenly shift their sexual preference. Now we know it is mostly biological. Same with me. And hopefully that idea too can begin to be accepted... The idea that I simply can't help myself. I am what I am, I was born that way.

I would've found this lifestyle no matter if my father passed on or not. I would've came in a spanko and still would've evolved as I experienced new things-- such as rope. Ten would still be Ten.


I'd like to hear some comments from the peanut gallery. Is your kink biological or psychological and why?

The History of Ten

Ten was born prior to my first Playa. Since it’s also a Playa name, that is kind of cheating… you’re supposed to get your Playa name –ON- the Playa. But meh, petty details.

I had a very different life then—collar and ownership and all. I literally belonged to someone else. So yes, it was true, those who said it was a phase.

The man who owned me named me. Slave 10. The number. Not just because that was all I was. But because I was his perfect 10.

We’re different people now. But I’m still Ten. I’m not a number, and not just someone’s Perfect 10. The word is now personified into the person you see before you today. The person who came to Playa del Fuego and left a changed woman. Who took the collar off, but still remains active in the BDSM community. Because that’s who I am now.

You ask about BDSM? As a “community”? Those who aren’t a part of it will never know how strong we really are. A BDSM “community”—it’s a hard concept for those who think it’s all about beating the snot out of people for sexual gratification. But I assure you, I’ve never felt more a part of something, more supported, and more self-aware before I found my kinky chosen family.

I never fit in anywhere. I never belonged. High school, college, even with those of similar age in the workplace… I was always different. I mean, I got along well enough, I had my fun. But never fit in. Never got let in.

Now. I know what community is. My first chosen “home” where I could be me (Ten) was Dressing for Pleasure’s The Crawlspace. Master Ed and Karen took us in and accepted us as family that very first night. I learned so much there, about different fetishes and people and statuses--- and about uniting under one flag.

It was there that I met Firefly who would take me to my first “big event”: Black Phoenix’s Winter Solstice. It was a sleep-away event where I stayed in a hotel and attended classes during the day. I met soooo many people. And it became apparent that people accepted me, as Ten. The person who I had to hide from others. That I wasn’t strange, crazy, or a burden.

Since then, Ten has attended many events. And Ten has spilled over to daily life. I introduce myself as Ten to most anyone new I meet. I am called “Ten” by both of my roommates, the kinkster and the ‘nilla both. Few people know me by my old name anymore. Those I still talk to from my old life (not the ones that simply keep tabs through Myspace and Facebook status updates), know about my lifestyle… and while they may not want to know details, they accept me as Ten as well, even if they call me by my given name.

Which is why I don’t hesitate anymore in declaring that name dead. While I’m not legally changing my name, please note, that if anyone ever asks if “Ten” is my real name, I will now say, "Yes" emphatically.

A Day in the Life: My first Porn Shoot

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BOOKED!

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Black Phoenix 3/7/09- Rope Mania!

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Mmmm David Lawrence

Who has two thumbs and got to have 3 consecutive bondage scenes with David Lawrence on Saturday night???

This girl!

Blog to come...

But just wanted to make a quick note about his new book reBound. The entire book is available online so be sure to check it out. And I highly suggest you purchase a copy NOW at the discounted price. It makes a great addition to your coffee table book collection!

A Strong Dose of Perspective

OK, I can make this vewwwwy easy on you. Skip to the bottom, to the "Quick and Easy Version" if ya just wanna read some fortune cookie type advice.

Otherwise... have fun readin' wha' goes on in mai head!*

I thought the day was going pretty shitty. Things had been kinda-- less colorful-- since Monday and my experience with my ex (aka the General Manager of the NJ branch of ****ers Inc.-- the company I work for) which led to my resignation. I mean, having to go in for these last 2 weeks (ok, actually twelve days as I don't work Sundays)... it's killing me. It's been two days and I'm getting more and more depressed. I love my fucking job. I mean, I maintain the structural and financial center of an entire company, I work with truckers all day, I can wear pajamas to work, and I can fuck around on Fet all day without fear of reproach. This is a gig to kill for. And yet, one person, who happens to be my boss, who I happened to be VERY in love with at one point, sullied it so much that I need to leave because I feel as though I am mentally and physically in danger.

Today sucks worse than Monday... I have to get all of my stuff out of the warehouse, where I'd been storing it since, what, July? I mean, me and P had been going around these last two days faking it until we made it. As if I wasn't leaving. It seems like it's the way everyone feels like dealing with my exodus...

Except Alv**.

"Naw girl, don' tell me dat. Naw, you playin'. Stop playin." I get a huge hug as the man wrestles with emotions ranging from anger, anxiety, and sadness

Ohhhh Alv--. Alv-- the skinny African American from North Carolina who repeats the same thing over and over, who got real excited over the "crystal clear" picture of a T.V. a customer had given him (I mean REAL excited), and who thinks won-ton soup is some kind of strange, foreign delicacy. He's so special. But he's the only one who showed emotion when I said I was leaving. who was the only one out of all the members of ****vers Inc. to willingly enter the Delancey Street Foundation where all of the workers of this company met.

Oh yeah, I probably forgot to mention that, not only do I work with truck drivers all day, but I work with reformed (reformed with the exception of my ex) drug addicts and ex-cons. The stories you hear, the things you learn when you work in an environment like that... well it should probably be considered a part of your benefits package

OK BACK TO THE POINT

So moving out kinda sucke. It was another blow of reality that I really wanted to ignore. Thank goodness I had the help of Christian Davids and ElisabethDavids (who will always be "Ismene" in my heart). They kept me in good spirits and that they drove 2 hours to help me means the world to me. These kind of friends are VERY few and far between.

I took them and Master_Tombstone out to dinner and we were shootin' the shit and then I got kind of bothered. My mom had called me earlier and said something about a house fire but that everyone was ok and she'd call me later. It didn't really sound all that bad, something like a cooking accident that destroyed a cabinet or something. But at dinner with these fond friends, something hit me, in the gut. A feeling. An "ohmigod". I suddenly felt the need to get in touch with someone, anyone who could explain to me what the fuck happened.

I called my mom, my granddmother, my stepfather, my brother, and my sister. None picked up. They complain that I distanced myself from the family-- argh. Finally get my brother. While I thought his voice was the least likely I'd hear, it was a pleasant surprise to talk to him. Still, he's also the most likely to know nothing beyond the pot smoke within his college dorm room.

Then my mom called back. Actually my stepfather did, from her phone. I used to hate the man. 8 years ago, before they got sober, him and my mother, he used to terrorize the household with empty-- and full for the matter-- threats of bodily harm and anguish. But tonight, I was never more relieved to hear his voice.

He started to tell me what had happened but he was slurring a bit- while he'd given up the sauce, I know he was probably on his second dose of Percocet, whether or not his back really hurt. So I was really happy when he put my mom on the phone. I may think she's an ever-loving cunt and a "douche-cannon" (thanks Eric) but she's still my mom and at that point I was ready to start taking laps around the parking lot, I was so nervous.

I started going into shock when she recounted the events of the previous night. As an empath I could feel how it felt when C**, my 7 year old brother came in to tell her the TV stopped working and how terrified she was when she walked in to see gray smoke pouring out of the outlet. I felt what it was like to grab the kid- to scour the immediate surroundings for what you should be taking in case the place goes completely up in flames. I felt what it was like to have your husband of five years (although she has shitty taste, it is love after all, and love-- I understand-- see excerpt above about loving a toxic asshole) battling the blaze for 25 minutes while you impatiently wait for the FRIGGEN firemen to arrive to save the day. I felt the terror as the firemen went to leave and my fairly high husband asks if they checked the basement and as they open up the crawl space (no, NOT DFP's) and watch as smoke BILLOWS* out. The anguish as the hoses the inept firemen used only pushed the fire farther into the house and destroyed more of the precious irreplaceable stuff that one stores in the basement...

And what's the kicker of it all? My mom, the person who, in my angry adolescent angst years used to positively hate, the woman who beat several HEAVY addictions and continues to fight against rampant co-dependency (AKA wiping my douchebag stepfather's ass all the damn timer-- ok well he's not so much of a douchebag now either)... the woman who sold herself and her kids for drugs, who very nearly lost her identity as a human being... she said that we (meaning her, my stepfather and my little half [whole in my heart) brother] were blessed.

No one got hurt, not even Lucky, the dumbass chocolate lab. And within 24 hours, her connections within Alcoholic's Anonymous found them a "home". Not a hotel. 2 bedrooms, every amenity you could imagine. And the insurance company is paying for it. A home. Within 24 hours A place to stay until the damage was repaired. And this ex Meth head, who has no other faux "silver linings" was able to see the positive.

I tell ya. If ya met me a year ago you'd know I fucking HATED her. So to admit that I love this woman and that she taught me a lesson today is rough... I'm so happy for them and the energy they give me over the phone. Even if it took her other 3 grown kids from previous exploits and her making a new life with the ex-psycho, now somewhat reformed husband and the kid they made.

The only thing that is still making me feel these intense JABS-- yeah, they're fucking jabs... and they need to stop-- of depression is that she made me give her a bin I had taken mistakenly when I moved the fuck out. It had all of my dad's stuff in it and my old report cards, art from art shows I did (holy SHIT, I used to do art shows. And poetry contests. And speech and debate and fiction writing... wow I am a person. And not just someone who likes to be tied up... Sorry just need to remind myself sometimes because I really do love to be tied up) in it. She made me give it back. Luckily, I planned to do a scrapbook for my siblings (the one that share the same Daddy) and I had swiped a lot of his pictures, his wallet, his school term papers... and other random things. So something was working with me there.

But still. My past. A lot of it. Is gone. While it's not my dream home, like that house was to my mother... my past, the happy parts I like to hold onto... are gone.

shakes head vigorously

This blog was SUPPOSED to be about perspective. But yeah, if ya haven't figured it out yet, skip to the Quick 'n Easy Version at the bottom:

Quick 'n Easy Version My parent's house burned down. My past is missing. They don't have their dream house anymore but still feel blessed. So... yeah... how the fuck are you blessed?

Ha. Wicked Faire. UPDATED VIDDY LINK

Hoping this message works. Here's a viddy of me being tied to the cog at Wicked.

Yes my elbows are touching behind my back.

And yes, I got dizzy.

Just a Note

My ass got mentioned again in Graydancer's newest Ropecast which discusses his adventures at Dark Odyssey. Again, nicest ass he's ever seen, apparently. Pretty amazing compliment given that he's seen(and played with) tons of beautiful women's asses. Plus he reviews some kinky Extreme Restraints toys like vibrating nipple clamps.... which I NEED.

Dark Odyssey: Winter Fire 2009 Sunday

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Dark Odyssey: Winter Fire 2009 Saturday- Valentine’s DayDark Odyssey: Winter Fire 2009 Saturday- Valentine’s Day

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Dark Odyssey: Winter Fire 2009 Day 1- Friday

Having been my first major hotel event, I had no idea of what to expect about D.O. I sort of felt a little as if it was going to be disappointing because of the massive amounts of hype. Boy was I wrong.

Friday

We arrived in the mid-evening Friday night due to a flat tire. I scurried to my room to change for the evening’s festivities and I opted for the newest addition to my wardrobe- a pink and black apron-like piece and matching thigh highs—oh and I finally got to wear the pink shoes that were obtained from a photoshoot a long time ago. I really never thought I’d wear them again, pink isn’t exactly my color… but they were the perfect accent! The reason I detail this particular outfit is because I was quite nervous. It left very little to the imagination and while I’m an exhibitionist, I’m also kinda self-conscious, plus I'd already got a glimpse of some of the hotties that were in attendance.

Changes spotlight from me to the major event of the evening
MinaMeow had her first hook Suspension scheduled that evening. I remember how nervous and scattered she was, sheesh, I’d be too! She didn’t make a sound (that I could hear) as they inserted the hooks which was amazing to me. But she sure as hell did as she started to go up. I work with truckers and I don’t hear that much foul language! I was really anxious as they hauled her up. She was so tense and loud and I started to wonder what the heck was the point of the act until I saw her face relax. I felt this tremendous energy wash over me as I watched her. She positively glowed. She began to sway back and force, like a little kid playing, and I caught myself swaying in time with her at one point. She started to ask those who are closest to her to spin her…. WendyBlackheart, MasterTombstone, etc. and then she yelled “Ten! Spin me!!!”. I felt honored that she wanted me to interact with her in this intense and notable moment. When it was over, that glow that I obtained in viewing this didn’t leave. Like I said in her LiveJournal/Fetlife entry —she didn’t climb the mountain that evening, she soared over it.

Focuses spotlight back on herself After I’d gone up and had a snack (low blood sugar-- it's such a pain) and recovered to join the land of the living, I started getting antsy. It was getting late and I still hadn’t had any playtime. So I started play-bratting (much different than my real bratting I assure you) with MasterTombstone and when he started to “chastise me” I told him I’d been a naughty girl. So he decided to do what should be done to naughty girls. We got to the spanking (bench? Chair? I’m not sure what to call it) and he started going to town on my rear with various instruments. It didn’t take long for me to get “pliable” when Mina happened by. I didn’t see her right away. She started beating a rhythym on my back in tandem with Tombstone. It had me flying in no time. Then they switched, he came to my front and she stayed in back. She suggested he… well… blushes “take it out and put it in my mouth”. (JEEZ how am I going to be a porn star if I get all embarrassed typing about sucking my man’s cock) So anyways… what started as a harmless little spanking scene turned into a really hot three way action and my first encounter with public fornication

Except we got kicked out of the dungeon before it was all done. Needing a place to finish we ran into Mr. Kelley Dane and the sweet little sprout. They invited us up to continue the havoc and we did. There was rope, hitachi’s, a dragon’s tail and many other instruments of doom. At one point sprout and I ended up with an apple duck taped into my mouth, which I thought was a titallatingly novel and off the cuff move on Kelley’s part. I don’t know what time we ended up heading back to the room to pass out and rest up for the following day, but suffice it to say that it was in the wee twilight hours of morning.

I swear if that was all there was to the event, I could’ve gone home happy. But no… there was two more days left…