Nullification

I confess I haven't written in here much of late, mainly because A.) I was away over that season and B.) because after being away over that season, I haven't really picked this back up. So I'll let you have this little snippet from today:

If you've seen the movie Hostel II, you'll know there's a scene where a girl cuts off the antagonist's balls with a set of shears. I've been asked by a few fellas to do this, some whom were quite serious because I think they were dealing with self loathing of their male genitals, and some who were just talking about it from a fantasy perspective. I'm not in the business of removing men's tackle, being that I'm not a doctor, and I'm also not insane. But, everyone has fantasies, and it just so happens they come and tell me all about them. It's when I can tell that it's not a fantasy that I tell someone to get help.

After making it clear that this was just a fantasy, this chap was a little different. It wasn't really an admission that he just didn't want his balls any more. He wanted me to describe in intense detail how I'd kidnap him, tie him so there's no way he'd be able to move, and describe in even more detail--how I'd stretch out his cock and balls, and cut them off with a meat cleaver. He wanted to know how I'd make him scream, how I'd make fun of him for being a pathetic excuse of a man, and how I'd wave the blood slathered member about in front of him afterwards in a mocking manner, before sticking it in a jar of formaldehyde, to keep on display with many others in the room with us. I was kind enough to talk him through it. Aren't I nice?

Just your standard evening's entertainment really. I found it quite comical.

Stocks

This is where you're going if you piss me off. Naked in the snow. Oh yes.

Hitwoman

This just in:

Domina,
I was wondering if you would do a hitwoman fantasy with me?
Id like you to be in calf length boots and thong, get me and my 2 gorgeous female body guards up against the wall, holding a machinegun, tell us youre gonna shoot us, see im really hard, tell us youre gonna make us suffer and youre gonna shoot us in our stomachs, draw a targets on our belly just above our belly buttons with a lipstick then make me wank my cock and shoot each body guard in there stomachs, then just as i start to cum pull back and machinegun me in my stomach with dum dum bullets

sorry its weird
********

Fire Drill

In this line of work, you do get people who take the piss, it's inevitable. They usually contact you via email so they're not paying for anything, or they make a split second gesture and spew forth their idiocy. This fella was with me albeit remotely, for the best part of an hour. Moreover, he was extremely polite and well mannered. I could have let him meet my mother, and she wouldn't have guessed what he was.

He came to me with the caveat that his fantasy was a bit too extreme, and I rolled my eyes because most of the time, they're just not and they involve dressing up as some kind of slut, and acting out a forced bi fantasy.

So imagine my surprise when the dude said "I want to be set on fire."

Yes. You read that right, he wants to be set on fire.

Momentary pause on my part, to which I finally broke with "Isn't that a bit...final?"

I asked him if he wanted to be burned to death and he said since he didn't want to walk around looking like a freak, that yes--he wanted to be burned to death. Restrained, to a stake so he wouldn't try and get out of it. He explained that he's played extensively with all kinds of painful equipment, electro stuff, needles, you name the horror, he's played with it. There is of course the possibility that it's all COMPLETE LIES and he's just playing fantasy but dear gods, this guy was a sadist's wet dream. He even mentioned 1man1jar. But he's not suicidal! (apparently).

I made mention of the fact that he could experience burns on parts of his body that weren't visible, if he were so inclined, but then he offered that it would be unlikely that he could pursue normal relationships with people with bits of scar tissue on his body. I sort of blinked and wondered what sort of cuntstack wouldn't have a relationship with someone who had a few patches of burn scarring on them, but then we live in a very superficial society, and some people really are as shallow as the puddle you got your toes wet in on the way into town.

It's all gone a bit Joan of Arc. And no, I'm obviously not going to be setting fire to him. My self preservation levels are little more sensible. Please excuse me if this entry is less than up to par, but my brain is a bit fried after THAT conversation.

The Annual Chr*stmas Rant

It's that time again.

I really cannot tell you how much I hate Chr*stmas. It's not just a dislike, it's an actual hate. I realise hate is an exhausting pastime, but honestly, it's such pretentious cockcheese that I can't stomach it. I do not need jollying along by some fat cunt with a mince pie, I detest carol singers and think the only use for carols is to rewrite them to be wholly offensive and crude, and there is only so much tinsel and other blinging, sparkly, glittery shit you can put on a house before it looks like a huge bag of wank, and a drain on the national grid.

Those horrid giant inflatable that people put up? I want to stab them. I also want to set fire to them. They are a blight on the landscape, and often wonder what these godfearing twatwaffles would do if someone like me went and replaced their giant air filled angels and snowmen with giant inflatable PENISES or a VAGINA, or something equally offensive. How fucking great would that be? I would so totally hide round the corner with a videocamera to watch the imminent coronaries when the Family Twat walks out on Chr*stmas morning, and sees a giant purple headed penis in place of their beloved fat bastard Santa, and the kids scream and cry because they notice his mangled corpse on the floor in front of the house.

Have I mentioned I loathe Chr*stmas?