Thursday, February 24, 2011

Cartoon Pinup Galiana, Part III

As I explained in the first Cartoon Pinup Galiana blog post (as well as The Second), a friend of mine asked a friend of his to do a cartoon pinup of me.

In addition to the me-alone pinup, and the Mistress Galiana masterpiece, he also delivered this, much to the delight of my Inner Submissive:

You can see the uncensored version here:

Are you serious? Every single detail of this is utterly dead. fucking. perfect.

He's dressed, but unzipped, while I am naked except for my collar and my restraints - the perfect symbols of surrender and control. His loose hand is in my hair, an as-of-yet unrealized threat that straightens my back in anticipation of the inevitable tightening. My grinning eyes, behind an exact replica of my actual glasses. My eager mouth, tongue outstretched, waiting, not altogether patiently, for that gorgeous thick challenge of a cock. The heavy sensual fullness of my breasts and back and ass and thighs. The rope binding my wrists to my ankles, in an intricate tie that would have required my participation to complete so neatly. I'm certain we both admired his handiwork when he finished.

But no, none of that is what matters. The real story here is in the handprint, isn't it?

I am blindingly aroused by this.

Thank you.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Feedback Nightmare & Epilogue

Feedback Nightmare
a play in One Act, plus Epilogue
by Galiana Chance
closely based on a very true story


GALIANA, 40, pleasantly pudgy with casual sexual confidence, lays asleep on her half of her comfortable queen-sized bed. Her HUSBAND, just shy of his 41st birthday, attempts to slip into bed beside her, unnoticed.

Galiana (sleepily, reaching for him):
I had a nightmare...
Husband (unsure if she's talking in her sleep): 
What happened? 
Someone left me feedback. Bad feedback. It was one-star. He said I wasn't committed because I wasn't available. He didn't know we're packing, we're moving...
Husband (resting his hand on her cheek): 
Fuck your dream makers, honey. Fuck them in half. We're okay.
Galiana (grinning as she drifts back to sleep):

Commentary: I usually have stress dreams during stressful times. We're packing and moving right now. It's stressful. The stress dream was not a surprise. However, its manifestation as stress about my feedback was a surprise, although maybe it shouldn't have been.


A few hours later. HUSBAND lays asleep on the bed as GALIANA attempts to slip in beside him, unnoticed.

Husband (nowhere near fully awake): 
Are you okay?
I'm fine. I just went potty and got some Aleve.
Why did you need leaves?
Aleve. I didn't want my back to get sore. The blue pain pill, Aleve.
Husband (with a sleepy grin): 
Are you having salad?
Galiana (patting him condescendingly): 
Yes. That's exactly right. Leaves for a salad.
Husband (snuggling up to her): 
Why are you talking so much? You should be quiet now.
Galiana (grinning):
Mmmhmmm. Sorry, love.
You're horrible at being quiet. I give you one star. Too loud. Too many salads.

Galiana stifles a giggle, only somewhat successfully, remembering the first night they spent together, which was about three hours of delicious fucking followed by an hour of giggling too hard to sleep, mostly fueled by the will-never-be-as-funny-to-anyone-else punchline, "Did you try to teach that sumbitch octopus to ride a bicycle?"

Galiana drifts back to sleep, oddly comforted.

The nightmares do not return.

Moving, Science, and My Availability

As I let you know in this blog post, I am moving from the Austin area to the Houston area on Feb 28. Because of the circumstances of the move, we didn't start making arrangements until Feb 16, so it's insta-crunch-time for sorting and packing.

Saturday, I did Scientific Experiment One: stay logged in for phone sex and take calls according to my normal schedule, and see if I can get a few things packed between calls.

Outcomes for Scientific Experiment One:
* study methodology: wild success - outcome was crystal clear
* ability to log in: miserable abject failure - I got nothing packed at all

Basically, my logged-in pattern for taking calls is that between calls, I rest, answer emails, browse interesting links from my Twitter feed, and maybe do a thing or two for the rest of my life. Turns out, I can't change that pattern on the fly at all.

Sunday, I did another Scientific Experiment Two: pack a few hours in the morning, rest, then pack a few hours in the afternoon, rest again, then see if I have the energy to log on and take phone sex calls in the evening.

Outcomes for Scientific Experiment Two:
* study methodology: wild success - outcome was crystal clear

* productivity: packing productivity exceeded expectations, log in productivity inadequate

Basically, I was too dizzy to feel sexy all evening until I fell into that vertigo-coma sleep where I have vivid dreams and wake up unsure if I feel rested or not. I haven't tried to pack or move since I came down with my mysterious neurological vertigo, so I didn't know for sure how it would affect me. Now I know. Not fun. 


So, since I don't log in for phone sex calls unless I feel rested and sexy, I doubt I'll be logging in until next Wed or Thu (Mar 2 or 3), when we've been in the new place long enough for me to unpack a bit and feel settled.

I hate having limitations. I really, really, really, genuinely hate having limitations. I want to be Wonder Woman, and be able to do everything plus some.

Thankfully, my desire to be a superheroine doesn't make me try to act like one, and it doesn't lead me to self-abuse for having un-super-power limitations. I am doing pretty well at caring for myself. I'm resting often, saving energy when I can, interacting with people who are life-giving to me, eating well, and sleeping as much as my body will let me.

I've managed myself through seasons of limitations before, and I feel confident that I will tire myself, but not break myself, and I'll be back on target soon enough.

But in this particular season of limitations, I have a new problem: I have become accustomed to having at least 3 good, solid orgasms per day fueled by the luscious lust of a wonderfully imaginative caller. What the FUCK do I do with all the lust building up inside me?

I miss you, and I look forward to you helping me work off all my lust when I can safely return.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Tussle-Bunny Fuck-Scrambled

I make up phrases.

Today I was describing what kind of personality I tend to have when I put on an Australian accent, and I said, "I get all tussle-bunny" and then I realized that maybe I'm the only person who knows what that means. I should correct that. Here:

tussle-bunny: playful, with a high sex drive, enjoys wrestling and/or struggling while fucking, usually used to describe a female
Then later, after the sex part of a call, I described myself as fuck-scrambled. At that point, I'm just having a day of making up phrases, and clearly I needed to blog about it. For your edification: 
fuck-scrambled: an inability to clearly and coherently communicate verbally after an intense sexual experience
Feel free to use them as you wish! 

Friday, February 18, 2011

Cartoon Pinup Galiana, Part II

As I explained in the first Cartoon Pinup Galiana blog post, a friend of mine asked a friend of his to do a cartoon pinup of me.

In addition to the spectacular me-alone picture, he also delivered this gem, in two views, for Mistress Galiana:
The uncensored view is here:

The details are spectacular. The chair is rich-looking, the mischief in my eyes and smile are exactly how I feel when I'm topping sensually, my breasts are stunningly pretty, the negligee and stockings are fabulous, my sweet exposed pussy with a touch of a landing strip threatens to flow over onto his chin.

And my feet... rubbing allll over him. A foot fetishist's dream come true. From there, I can stuff my toes into his mouth, or let my soles slide langorously down his chest... Oh. My. What have we here?

You can find the uncensored version here:

Not only are those strong arms restrained, either by ties or the delicious surrender of will, and not only is the chest gorgeous, and strong, but look what fun toy my feet have to play with there! A tied-up package, like a gift, strong and hard and aching just a touch.

I love that the rope is rose-colored, almost the same shade as the head of his cock. Seriously. Perfect.

The tension in that body... I want to do nothing and do everything, make him weep and make him sigh in pleasure, feel his skin and taste the sweat off his chest as he struggles not to come.

Thank you. I love it.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Moving Right Along

You may have noticed that I've been sporadic with my logins in February. I'm finally ready to tell you why: there's a 90% chance that I'm moving to a different city. And if we move, there's a 70% chance it will be at the end of the month (30% chance it will be some time in March).

The circumstances and timing of the move aren't ideal. And moving is never fun. Thankfully, I've moved a lot in my life, and I'm pretty good at it. But this is the first time I've moved with vertigo, so it's a bit of a stress to wonder how much that will affect me.

The good news is, I'll be much closer to my awesome family (mom, sister, nieces) who I love spending time with, so I will be gaining a lot of support and fun. And the other good news is that the place we're (almost certainly) moving to is owned by my uncle, and he's giving us a hell of a deal on a great space. And we have friends and family already scheduling themselves to come by and help us pack. I'm seriously and thoroughly blessed.

Thankfully, my husband and I have the same perspective on this move: we want to greatly simplify how much stuff we have, partially for the feng shui, but more so that we can let the dogs roam freely unsupervised in the new place more often. Here, we have too many tempting chewable things out in the open which are serving no good purpose for anyone anymore. Moving is a great time to get rid of those kinds of things. So although it will take work to sell / give away a bunch of stuff, it should simplify our unpacking process greatly.

I've said time and time again on this blog that I won't log in for phone sex calls unless I'm in a sexy mood. It does my callers no good for me to be half-assed, and it does me no good to do the job if I'm not having fun. Since I will continue to only log in when my sexy tank is full, I will be continue to be unpredictable for the next 3 weeks. I'll update the calendar as well with my best guesses, but they're likely to be wrong a lot. 
I'll probably mostly be logged on for phone sex in the evenings. As always, I'm happy to take specific requests for log-on times, especially during the day, because it is 10 billion times easier to get sexy for one person who I already know to be sex than it is to get sexy for the generic anybody who may call.

Now you may be thinking, "Oh, gosh, I don't want to bother her - I'll just wait until she's settled in to her new place to call again." With all due respect, that's a horrible idea! Because when I have summoned my sexy, I can guaran-damn-tee that I'm in the mood for some hard-core escapism, fantasy, and luxurious sensuality. Don't deprive me!

Nothing clears my mind of worries better than dropping into someone else's sexual energy, whether it be a raw spank-me-pull-my-hair-toss-me-against-the-wall romp, a deep relaxing erotic hypnosis trance, a fantasy transportation to another space and time, me focusing on your service, or a slowly-building tease and release. All of those help me drop out of the cares and concerns of my daily life, and all of them give me energy in return. So by all means, when I'm on, call me.

If you happen to have the urge to offer to help me in other ways, the best gift is an Amazon gift card (sent to galiana @ ymail . com). I always want to get a hundred little things to furnish a new place. For example, I never take brooms or mops with me to a new location, because I don't want to bring old dirt into a new place. The only foods I'll move are spices. Inevitably, I need a new shelf somewhere. I'll probably ruin several blankets and sheets by wrapping things in them... the list goes on and on. You've moved, you know.

Now, if you've been following me closely, you may be asking, "Why did you choose to open a cam listing right before you moved?" It's a solid question, and I'm not sure I have a solid answer, but here's my best guess at the mysterious, nebulous meanderings of Why Galiana Does Strange Stuff:

Up until the day we decided to move, I needed to live as if we weren't moving. It's easy for me to get trapped in the future and forget about living today, and I work hard not to do that to myself. Call it "be here now" or "stop and smell the roses" or "do not borrow trouble from tomorrow, for today has enough troubles of its own"... I work hard to live the life I have today without being paralyzed by what might be tomorrow.

And more specifically/logistically, it was good for me to set up the Fuckatorium for cam, because it was a fantastic chance to figure out what I needed in terms of lighting and shelves and non-distracting, color-balancing, high-contrast-with-flesh-tones background colors. I will almost certainly makes some changes to the setup in the new Fuckatorium, but it was really great to have a version one that has worked so well. 

(Side note: someone found my blog recently by searching Google for "fuckatorium" - how awesome is that?)

On a purely emotional level, the performance anxiety of doing cam was significant for me until I did it for 2 nights. As I said to long-time friend "The Omnivore" during our Valentine's Day call, I can't photoshop on cam. I can't pick which moments to leave out. There's no filter. And I was nervous as hell about it. Thankfully, I had existing callers who were SO nice and SO affirming (thank you!), and a couple of new callers who went well, too.

So now I can let go of the anxiety about cam, and instead look forward to having something that be awesome and fun and new to focus on when I come back online full-steam. I mean, I'll still log on in the next few weeks, and probably be on cam a few times. It's easy for me to see myself wanting to clean up and get all girly and pretty after a day of sorting and hauling and scrounging. (Note to long-nail fetishists: I'm pretty sure I won't be your girl until late March, sorry)

Sometimes I have hunches about the next period of my life, and I had a hunch that this "winter" (Jan/Feb/Mar) would be a time of massive transition for me. Thankfully, the transition seems to only be about where I live. I'm just losing a house. I'm not losing my marriage, or any more of my health, and nobody I love is passing away (knock wood, of course). So all things considered, this is the easiest kind of massive transition: it's work, but it's not trauma. Whew!

So, to summarize: My log-ons will be flaky for the next 3-4 weeks. I look forward to being all moved and settled in to my new phase of life. And I look forward to you catching me when you can in the meantime!

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

/yawn /snuggle

After a mere two days of cam work, I find myself far too snuggly to jump on cam tonight... Is is allergies? Relief after having been hella nervous? Simple sleep deprivation? Probably yes to all three.

So I'll be on tonight on the phones but not on cam, probably... Or I'll keep lying here being sleepy and snuggly and stretchy...

Monday, February 14, 2011


Sometimes my callers want to give me gifts. Lately, I've gotten an unusually high amount of them.

Since I have a cam now, I made little videos of myself opening everything I've gotten in the past week. I figure it's good advertisement for my new cam listing too, right? I mean, just making a bunch of videos of myself isn't completely narcissistic, is it?

(Dear Inner Modest and Shy Girl: Please try to just keep your eyes closed more. All I can really offer you is denial. Sorry. Love, Galiana)

First: a thank you to the financial slave who bought me the camera, some Secrets In Lace lingerie, some amazing Carlos shoes, stuff to set up the Fuckatorium for cam, a new headset for cam calls, and some new hair / face stuff that I'm loving using. Here's me opening some of that (I didn't realize when I made it that Blogger would squish widescreen... sorry):

Then today, for Valentine's Day, I made 3 videos. The first was lingerie and pillowcases, and the chocolates my husband got me:

The second is 2 gifts I got in the mail, both of which make me feel good in different ways: the ItGetsBetter t-shirt, and a SpaFinder gift certificate.

And the last Valentine's Day gift-o-rama is a veritable boatload of stuff that will let me dress up and look a bit like a robot! I have a few fans in the technosexual / fembot fetish community who want me on video or cam. I'm still working on my movements, and not ready to demo those yet, but now I have clothes! /squee

I look happy in all these videos, and grateful, and both of things are true: I am both happy and grateful for them. And at the same time, I'm a tiny bit overwhelmed.

Remember at the end of A Streetcar Named Desire when Blanche tells the man who's coming to take her away that she has "always relied on the kindness of strangers"? I haven't. Not a bit. I've always relied on myself, always had a hard time asking for help, and always been stubbornly insistent on valuing *people* over *things*. I gave gifts much more freely and graciously than I accepted them.

And now I find myself in the position of completely relying on the kindness of strangers, and having to figure out how to be gracious about accepting things which will enhance my life, or help me grow my business. It's easiest if I can point to some way where "he'll get his money's worth out of this", but when someone gives me SpaFinder gift certificates so I can get a massage... well... there's not a lot there except for me to relax and enjoy myself, is there?

I'm working on it. I'm better. I'm down to only about 20% of the time now where I think "What the hell am I doing? What they hell are they doing? What the hell should I do when they wake up and regret this?!?" That's an improvement - at first it was more like 80%...

This is good for me. It's good for me to stretch and grow and learn how to do new things, like enjoy getting gifts without feeling guilty or indebted.

Thank you, gentlemen who have been getting me gifts. Thank you very much for the gifts, and thank you very much for helping me grow. /blowkiss

A Tale of Two Cards

Once upon a time, there was a young lady, who was not much of a lady, truth be told... and while we're admitting potentially unpleasant truths to ourselves, no longer that terribly young, either.

One day, this not-so-young not-so-much-a-lady went to the postmaster's to see what she had received from her legions of adoring fans, and found, much to her delight, two cards.

The first card was the kind of a card that a bank sends to someone when they have money available to spend; a credit card, some call it. The name on the front of the card was the name of a particularly adoring fan, who had signed a contract agreeing to let her buy herself gifts with the card each month for six months.

She loved the card very much, because it was a reminder of a relationship she enjoys very much.

The second card was the kind of card that a certain type of company makes when someone goes on their web site and designs it; a greeting card, some call it. The name on the front of the card was her name, spelled out in hearts, and the name on the inside of the card was the name of a particularly adoring fan, who had said it would not feel like Valentine's Day without sending her something.

She loved the card very much, because it was a reminder of a relationship she enjoys very much.

This not-so-young not-so-much-a-lady sat in her car for a moment in the parking lot, thinking about the ways her life had changed recently, the different ways love can show itself, what it means when people want to take of you, and how different the cards were, and yet how very much the same.

And then she smiled to herself, started her car, and drove off into the rest of her life, a little happier for having received Two Cards.

The End

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Cam Launch Sunday!

/gulp... I'm doing it! I'm going on cam! ZOIKES!

Please drop by my brand new cam listing, which will be going live today (Sunday Feb 13) after I get all pampered up... I'll be posting an "outfit of the day" picture right before I log on each day.

I'm super nervous that someone will be disappointed. I've only done cam sex as an amateur when lovers were out of town, and I never got complaints, but it is much different to be paid.

In fact, I'm this nervous:
In case you can't watch that video, let me describe it for you: wiggly, self-doubting, with one ridiculous squeal, me sitting on my hands to keep from fidgeting, the world premiere of an awesome fun red sparkly outfit, and perhaps the invention of the phrase "disco boobs". In just 59 seconds.

After I get my feet under me, I'm sure I'll do a different video sample where I seem more calm and confident, but this video is exactly how I feel today.

I would LOVE SO MUCH to get a call or two Sunday from friendly blog readers to help me get over the jitters, and also to give me honest constructive criticism.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Warning Label

A new caller sent me this in post-coital bliss, and I. Love. It. So. Much.
Galiana Chance SPF (Sexually Potent Female OR Sexually Powerful Factor) 100 out of 100. Likely to cause intense joy and overwhelming euphoria.  Post-orgasm symptoms may last up to 4 hours.  You may also lose your sense of self when coupled with her. :) 

Friday, February 11, 2011

Lover Experience

In the midst of sorting through my pictures from September's photo shoot, I found one that I hadn't focused on before, but now it's my current favorite picture of myself:

First of all, that babydoll has a bra strap around back, so dang, my boobs look amazingly perky for DDs (did I mention that I got fitted for a bra and found out that I'm a DD, not a D like I thought? Crazy.)

Then the soft purple fabric, with the soft scarf-looking headband, and the flowing gypsy-ish earrings, and my flowing gypsy-ish wavy hair ... all together, it's a soft look physically.

But the real attraction for me is my expression: I look as if I am enjoying the company of whoever I am looking at, as if I am open to them, kind, relaxed, and happy.

I've been thinking lately about the term "Girlfriend Experience" (GFE), and whether or not it fits me. As a married, openly non-monogamous woman, I don't consider myself to be in the market for a boyfriend, which, to me, connotates someone that I'm considering as a potential life partner. A boyfriend/life partner has to share chores, help me when I need heavy stuff moved, and listen to me kvetch when I'm moody... the daily things of life.

I care if my boyfriend/life partner can consistently reinforce training with my dogs, how he behaves towards customer service people in public, whether or not he likes hosting parties, if he likes to travel, and what he chooses to do with his money. Details. Encumbrances. And in many cases, hassles. My husband has to be a good fit for all that crap, poor guy, and that's what I would need from someone to call him my boyfriend, too.

But a lover... well, that's different, isn't it?

I had a conversation with my current lover (also married and openly non-monogamous) when we starting about what we wanted to be for each other. We came up with the concept of an amusement park: lots of fun choices of activities, plenty of delightful options to explore, and no trace of the concerns of daily life. We are an escape for each other. I protect my ability to feel sexy when I'm with him by (mostly) shielding him from my unsexy anxieties about logistics and uncertainties and insecurities and disappointments. When I'm with him, we're just fun and good and happy and sexy together. And it feeds both of us.

So what I think I want on the phones with callers is not a girlfriend experience where you would have to help me with all the annoying hassles of life.

I want a lover experience.

I want to be an escape from your daily grind. A new setting. A different mood. A space in which you are free to be any version of yourself you wish to be, and free to discover which version of me responds to you in that way. Permission to luxuriate in your desires and focus on the pounding of your heart when you touch my skin and hear me sigh.

I once had a crazy-luxurious massage combined with a moisturizing salt scrub, washed off by four overhead shower heads, and followed by heavenly-smelling lotion. I got to shed dead skin, release muscle tension, and replace stress and dullness with relaxation and health.

I want to be that: the sexual equivalent of a day-spa-salt-scrub-massage-shower for those who call me.

So why did I combine that picture with this discussion about offering a lover experience? Because that picture, to me, looks like how I feel as a lover. Calm, relaxed, kind, open, confident, attentive, enjoying your company, and fully aware that you're probably missing all of that because you're distracted by my boobs.


It's totally okay. They're awesome.

So kick off your shoes, lover. Come on in. Let's play.

Cartoon Pinup Galiana!

Remember my friend David from the blog post titled "Small Small World" (aka hotwivesonline), and the cartoon that mybuddydharma and I both loved so much from his feed?

Well, he was kind enough to send pictures of me to his amazingly talented cartoonist friend (who wishes to remain anonymous), and look what he sent back!!

I love everything about it - the hair, the glasses, the faintest of grins, the fantastic chunky necklace, the pretty lingerie, how gorgeous my breasts look, the curve of my hips, my painted nails, my delicate shoes, the angle of my feet that seem just a tiny bit coy, the elegant chair, the perfect background gradation... I love every single bit of it.

I'm completely floored, and completely flattered. Thank you!!

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

From Last Night

Testing the awesome new cam last night, I changed into my amazing new retro/elegant lingerie from Secrets In Lace, including a robe with ostrich feather trim that I wrote about here.

I can't share the video because after I adjusted the angle, you could see blankets on the floor and other distracting stuff in the margins... and it took me WAY too long to get the garters done, and when I did them, I my fingers weren't facing the camera anyway... and the pillows seriously need replacing...

I have a problem with perfectionism. /cringe

Thankfully, I don't have a problem enjoying myself in the moment.

Proof of that statement: a screen capture from the unusable video:
That's the new robe. The new shoes. The new setup. The new cam. And in that one moment, I think it happened to all be working quite nicely, thank you. 

Hello Video World!

As soon as I got the camera running, I made a little "hello world" video so I could always remember how much I've learned along the way.

Sure enough, there were about a dozen things I'd love to fix: I forgot to say "hello world" first, the glare from the computer screen on my glasses, how I was positioned on the bed, I forgot to thank the person who bought me the camera (thank you slave!)...

But I can forgive myself because I'm soooooo excited! And because I'd rather have the honest first shot than muck with it.

And now... let's see how blogspot does with embedding video (wmv format, 28 seconds long):
So after I got the cam, I went shopping for some new beauty products for my face and hair, set up the room (the green thing behind the bed is new - I wrapped a 4'x8' piece of pegboard in batting and fabric - I wanted to use the bed more like a daybed, but I wanted a backdrop behind me that wasn't beige like the walls, so I wouldn't melt into the background), took a crazy long luxurious shower, did my "hello world" video, filmed a special "thank you" video for the slave who bought me the camera, and then got lost for a while in experimenting.


I'm not going to be ready to open a cam listing until I have more experience making videos, but we're on the right track, heading the right direction! Yay!

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Tonight: set up!!'

I got the ca-aaam! I got the ca-aaam!

But because my mind works in mysterious ways, I can't plug it in until the room is ready. I thought I'd be able to do it halfway, but no.

So I probably won't be online tonight unless I get an email luring me to something sexy, but if you want to talk to happy me full of positive energy-moving, write me!!

Variety Fetish

I have finally realized what my fetish is: variety.

The definition of having a fetish that makes the most sense to me is: sexual stimulation which you require in order to achieve sexual satisfaction.

The definition of having a kink that makes the most sense to me is: sexual stimulation that is unusual or non-mainstream which you enjoy.

By those definitions, I don't have a fetish for any particular activity, because the activities of any one sexual encounter may be completely different than the activities of another sexual encounter, and I can find both encounters thoroughly satisfying.
But here's what I could never find satisfying: the same encounter, with the same partner, over and over, with nothing else in the mix. And really, I need to switch both factors regularly to have a sex life that is satisfying to me on the whole: I need different activities, and I need different partners. Because while trying different activities with the same partner is awesome and fun, and while trying the same activities with different partners is awesome and fun, the real big bang of happiness for me is having both.

On a related note, have I mentioned how much I fucking love my job?

Yes, I can hear your question, and yes, I do understand that the concept of variety and the concept of fetish as I have defined it here are fundamentally at odds with one another. Perhaps that contributes to why I love the idea of claiming my variety fetish so much. Not only do I think it accurately describes my sexual proclivities, it is also inherently emotionally and intellectually complex.


And back to the definitions, to explain a bit more fully, I think it is most accurate to say that I have a variety fetish with a wide range of kinks, because the list of kinky activities I enjoy is long and distinguished. Feel free to check out my FetLife profile (membership is required to view my profile, but membership is free, easy, confidential, does not result in spam, and could help you find kinky / educational events in your area and yes, you're free to friend me). I chose from FetLife's list of "Fetishes" according to my definition of the word kinks. By perusing only their most popular 63 choices, I am interested in 42. A quick glance at the complete list suggests I would end up with hundreds if I were being thorough.

Callers often ask me what gets me off, what I like, what is my fetish. Since listing several dozen actions, or launching into discourse about the definition of fetish versus kink seems unlikely to be what most callers want, I developed a bit of a decision tree to help narrow the discussion. But sometimes, even the tree is too much, so if I'm feeling a vibe of "just pick something so I can get off and know I've made you happy", then I choose something that honestly sounds good.

On the one hand, it is not a lie to reach into a bag of truth and pull out one item, but on the other hand, it is not the entire truth. But back to the first hand, it is efficient to pick something and go with it. And it is also good customer service not to chat aimlessly with a man who's ready for action. And if it turns out I was wrong and he ends up in a talky mood, it is easy enough to go back and open up the conversation.

But it has bothered me that I didn't know a concise, simple, elegant answer to the question, "What turns you on?" Whether or not I use the answer in every situation doesn't matter; I wanted to know it for myself. Surely one existed, and on some far back burner, it was simmering.

Then about three weeks ago, I heard myself giving a new answer to the question of what I like: "Whatever I haven't done lately." I guess that caller was giving off the energy of wanting some discourse, because it was an answer that had never popped out of my mouth before, and it obviously needed some unpacking before it would lead to picking what kind of fucking we were going to do. Thankfully, my instinct was on target; we had an interesting conversation about our mutual prurient interests and why we both self-identified as sluts, and then we had scorchingly hot sex.

(side note about that call: it's funny, but I don't remember what actions we did, but I clearly remember calling his name when I came so hard I flipped over and curled into a ball)

While musing after the call, I came up with the term "diversity fetish", but I knew it wasn't exactly right, because it sounds like an interracial thing. And while I absolutely love men and women of every skin tone, it is irrelevant to my satisfaction. I want a package full of enthusiasm and intelligence and creativity far more than I notice how the package is wrapped.

Then a few days ago, I was explaining a slightly condensed version of this blog post to a regular caller who likes to talk theory, and the word variety tumbled out of my mouth, and I saw the shiny glint of gold on the end of my pick-axe, and I rode into town, triumphant, and bought the Inner Cast a round at the saloon and got myself a date with my Inner Whore to rejoice. (Inner Whore was happy to see me again, of course - she's a lovely darling sweetheart, that one is... Wait, why did I just turn Irish?)

So, Galiana, what do you like to do in bed? What gets your motor running? What do you love? Can you answer that in five words or less?

I can. "Variety fetish, with many kinks."


(related news: I changed my tagline from "The Blogged Life of Galiana Chance, PSO (phone sex operator)" to "The Blogged Life of Galiana Chance, a Phone Sex Operator with a fetish for variety" ... I reserve the right to continue mucking with the wording at my whim)

Feet Pics x4

I'm pleased as punch with myself to be able to announce, for the delight and pleasure of the foot fetish / heel fetish / boot fetish crowd: I have four new picture packages up for sale, focused on my feet!

Most of the pictures taken during my 40th birthday celebration shoot last September were not focused on my feet, but the original photos were high enough resolution to allow me to offer some excellent pictures just by cropping. Plus, of course, the foot-focused ones we did take are included.

All pictures are at least 1024 pixels tall or wide, and many are larger. The sample / preview pictures below are much lower resolution than the pictures for sale. Each set is $10.

First, Feet In Heels: 54 pictures of my feet in heels (creamy satin off-white heels, and grey heels with fabric embellishment, nail color OPI "Red"). A couple of preview pictures:

Don't my feet look all pretty and elegant? I wish they looked that way all the time... /sigh  To purchase Feet In Heels, click here:

Next up, Bare Feet: 31 pictures of my bare size 8.5 feet (nail color OPI "Red"). Pictures include naked ass in some shots. A couple of preview pictures:

I'm told I have lovely feet, but they seem so... normal to me. They are size 8.5, which is the most common size, with arches that are defined but not terribly high, toes that are long but not freakishly so. Perhaps it is the lack of distinguishing characteristics that make them lovely? To purchase Bare Feet, click here:

Then we have Feet In Bondage: 23 pictures of my feet (nail color OPI "Red"), in grey heels with fabric embellishment, bound by a white scarf. Pictures include bound hands and ass in some shots. A couple of preview pictures:

It's a specialized picture set: feet + bondage. Who knows if it will be popular or not... it's a very specific combination... I made up the tie with the scarves. It felt amazing to be tied up and writhing around the floor with someone photographing me. These are not rational things I crave, I understand that. To purchase Feet In Bondage, click here:

And last but not least, Boots and Sybian: 48 pictures of my vinyl platform boots with fishnet hose, and some with one foot on the Sybian. Pictures include ass and pussy in a few shots. A couple of preview pictures:

I love these boots so much. They're surprisingly stable considering how ludicrously impractical they look. I bought them to fly to Europe to meet my first BDSM lover, and I always feel daring and adventuresome in them. To buy Boots and Sybian, click here:

Even though I've expanded the number of places I need to post new picture packages (the Gallery, NiteFlirt to create the package, MyFlirtStore, my Stuff to Buy blog page), having the gallery makes it so much simpler than it used to be. Now it feels much more like the hard part is choosing the pictures, instead of all the other administrative trivia surrounding the posting of a picture package. Yay progress.

And may your feet be happy, always.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Image Gallery!

Even though I've been busier today than I feared (what with it being Super Bowl Sunday and all), I did still manage to get a very exciting thing done - I created Gallery Galiana!

I wanted a simpler web-based way to deliver groups of pictures for sale, especially now that I'm getting a new camera (any day now!). I can easily enter captions, protect albums which are pay-to-view, and have the user experience be a little more feature-rich than I am willing to build on my own. On Friday, I realized that my hosting provide had free image galleries available as auto-installer scripts, so all I had to do was compare features, install, configure, and I was good to go!

Each individual task was simple enough to do, but of course, it took time to read through all the options, make changes, test things, and the inevitable "scrap the whole thing and reinstall because you'll be sorry later if you don't" ... twice. At least I'm predictable.

I have two galleries ready for your perusal, if you don't mind helping me out and testing them, please. Thanks!

First, a free, public album, of pictures from my 40th birthday celebration shoot in September which have been posted on the blog in one form or another.

Then a "private" album, which means it's password protected, which are a few of my favorite pictures from the at-home amateur-photographer photo shoot I did in July 2010, including one topless. The password for it is "reader" -- as in blog reader, because blog readers who read this post will get access to it for free!

It would be a huge help to me if you could go check them out, play with the features, and let me know what you think. I can't make changes to the core functionality, but if you have ideas for how it could work best, I'd love to hear them.

It's fantastic to be able to deliver photo content in a different way. And honestly, it's tons easier for me than the way I was doing it, now that it's all set up. I'll still continue to deliver a .zip file with all the pictures, but many people can't do downloads, or want access from their phone. I'm thrilled I can provide it.

I love that you can view them as a slide show. I love that you can click on individual pictures to see a higher-resolution version. And of course, I love the ability to write captions easily.

Those three things together, well, this was a triumph. Making a note here, huge success. (apologies to non-gamers for that last reference...) Well, look at me still talking when there's science to do! (stop that, GLaDOS, just stop it right now) Anyway, this cake is great. (give. me. back. my. blog, dammit.) Ahem. I apologize. We had to tear a few things to pieces and burn them. We seem to be okay now.

(someone should stop me from posting after midnight...)

Anyway, hopefully now picture sets can be released more rapidly, and be available in more formats. Yay! Goooooo Galiana!

Sunday, February 6, 2011


I love the creative use of language, and using unexpected words to convey exactly the right tone. I frequently fall back to under-used gems like Nifty! Zoikes! or Swell! for my own amusement.

Yesterday on my last call of the night, in a delightfully winding and conversationally intimate conversation with a self-described Masturbator (but not the Masturbation Superstar I described in an earlier post, who I haven't heard from in much too long...), he said he was having trouble focusing. I asked how I could help him focus, and he drew in his breath, and replied, "Well, jeepers..."

So. Happy. 

Jeepers! I've been looking for you! I've been missing a word lately, and it needed all those soft sounds, to convey feeling a little overwhelmed, but in a good, gentle way. What was coming to mind was "Jesus!" the way it's usually used to proclaim a happy overload, like if your tiramisu melts in your mouth through layers of cake and booze and cream and then holy crap is that cocoa powder dusting on the top oh my gosh I just had a foodgasm. Like that.

The tone of it is right, but I prefer not to use the word Jesus as an exclamation for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is: why would I risk offending someone by a word choice when the world is so full of so many other luscious words with their tasty sounds and rhythms and subtle conveyances?

No, Jeepers is much better. A little humor, a little unexpected, and a touch of a sense of wide-eyed wonder. Perfect.

Thank you, Masturbator. I needed that!

Saturday, February 5, 2011

What I Did On My Day "Off"

I took a 36-hour break from being logged in to NiteFlirt. In theory, it was my first day off in over a month. In reality, Thursday was a true night off, where I did nothing "productive" while I watched a Mythbusters episode and chatted with friends.

But on Friday, ... 

I registered (hosted by a company who is fine with adult content, and who offers WHOIS privacy - nice). The host hasn't enabled it, and there's nothing on it yet, but it's mine!

I took the first steps to research blogging, e-commerce, and content management packages for when my site is set up. Those are long-term projects, but it was interesting to look into, and much less intimidating to think about now that I've learned a few things. For example, if I had my own e-commerce package, I could potentially set up a pay-for-text-chat system, which is not offered through NiteFlirt.

I posted the "Gentle Fun" mp3 for sale and blogged about its release here.

I cleaned my computer of a particularly nasty virus, which was posing as anti-virus software. I also took the time while doing that to delete unused programs, change boot settings for crap I didn't need to launch every time I logged in, and do a comprehensive disk scan (virus & corruption/defrag). My little laptop purrs like a kitten now.

I drafted 4 awesome blog entries - a new series - which are ready to hit "publish" on rainy days when I have nothing else in mind. Keeping secrets is not my natural state... will I be able to withhold them? Ohhhhh the suspense...

I set up a Google AdWords account, which I will eventually use to advertise the blog. If it brings in readers who turn into callers (or Kindle blog subscribers), it would be worth a small daily investment. It will be relatively easy to track, since I usually ask new callers why they chose to talk with me, and people who come in from channels other than NiteFlirt (my blog / Twitter) tend to say so. 

I did the horrible, tedious, repugnant, soul-sucking, skin-crawling task of recording my voice greetings for phone callers for ALL 14 Mistress Galiana listings, ALL 14 Hypno Galiana listings, and my new Role Playing Smart Fun Galiana listing. (No me gusta la repeticiĆ³n. That's right. Mmmhmmm. I dislike repetition so much that I couldn't even say the word in English. Repetition, you totally just got served.)

... Thankfully, I used the last of my Godiva chocolates and some amusing texts from a friend to cheer me on while I expressed my desire to bash my head against the wall to motivate my way through it. I heard those voice prompts twenty... nine... times... (Did I mention that I'm not a big fan of repetitive tasks? If you say that I'm repeating myself, I will punch you in the shmoo. Don't think I won't.)

... But seriously, I'm very proud of myself to have knocked that out. It is not my favorite type of task, so it was hard for me to do, but it is in my best long-term interests to have it done. And it's not something I could do while being logged in, so it was perfect.

I figured out how to spend a few recent Amazon gift cards - I had been trying to use up all my random bath and body products before buying anything new, and I am finally at the exciting place to buy new stuff. I haven't figured out the complete shopping cart yet, but I'm looking forward to feeling pampered!

Measured stuff in the Fuckatorium to get it ready to reorganize. Again. Of course. This time, it's to set it up for camera / video... Or at least, "cam/video set up version 1", since I'm sure I'll change my mind a bazillion times. I didn't actually start moving stuff because my husband was also having a surge of energy to knock old items off his to-do list, and I had no desire to interrupt that, since some of those benefit me greatly as well. I'll have him help me when the camera actually arrives, and he's out of good ideas for himself.

I guess the rare snow day in Austin must be inherently domestically productive, because we were both on fire with getting stuff done. If you can't leave the house, you might as well shorten your to-do list, right? Right!

So now, naturally, my to-do list is... ummm.... wait... longer?!? What the hell, Chance...

Why is it that when I get stuff done, I always think of more to do?

Friday, February 4, 2011

New mp3 For Sale: Gentle Fun

This is a follow-up to my blog post Heartbreak and Phone Sex, Part V as well as an announcement of a new pay-to-view offering.

My dear "sexually accessible" friend referenced in the blog post above gave me both permission and encouragement to offer the custom mp3 I made for him for sale, so I am, with a few caveats:
  • I didn't script it before I did it, so there are a few stumbles and pauses while I searched for words, which normally would disqualify a recording as being sale-worthy for me, but in this case, I'm okay with it, because I think it adds to the spontaneous charm (at least in theory), and I didn't want to re-record it, since I think the immediate honesty of it is its real strength.
  • My voice was a little strained from allergies... stupid cedar pollen in central Texas in winter.
  • I edited out his name for privacy, which causes a couple of little hiccup / scrambled sounds.
Usually I would charge more than $1 / minute for a recorded mp3, but in this case, the $1 / minute reflects the fact that it is a little unpolished (run time 14:44, sale price $15, only available via NiteFlirt).

(Side note: Why is $1 / minute relevant?  Because $0.99 / minute is the minimum I can charge for a recorded listing - and I will also turn this into a recorded listing - where you have to pay that much each time you listen to it. But with an mp3, you can re-listen to it as many times as you wish, so it should cost more... or at least, that's my current perspective)

This mp3 is representative of my honest enjoyment of someone else's gentle energy and fun vibe. He asked me to take him in his mouth, and then ride him, and it was easy to picture, and deliciously fun to experience in my mind. I couldn't stop grinning after I came.

To see the little write-up on MyFlirtStore, go here:

Or to purchase it, click this button:

If you have even half as much fun listening to it as I did making it, you'll love it.

Unexpected Day Off, and Drifting Later

Apparently I needed a day off, starting about 6 pm yesterday, because my energy just went ffffffft, and even the thought of talking with my favorite callers seemed confusing. When I find myself suddenly wondering, "How do I do this job?" then it's time for a break. Because I know how to do this job when I'm at full power.

The cold can be a little rough for me - temperature swings of more than about 30 degrees can make me a little dizzy, so going from warm house / cold car / warm restaurant / cold car / warm house is four little dizzy-making opportunities. I needed to leave the house yesterday, so I did, but I think it's what drained me.

Also, I literally took zero days off in the entire month of January, but I didn't feel ragged from that, because I was good about not logging in until I felt rested, and also good about logging out mid-day if I needed a break or a nap.

In fact, January was kind of a whirlwind of personal exploration and expansion; I wrote a ton, I enthusiastically delved into two new fetishes and dramatically expanded my audience with another, I expanded my listings and have started getting calls on the new ones, and I've mentally moved from "not yet ready to consider cam or videos" to "okay, let's get this cam / video bitch rolling and see what shakes out."

In the meantime, I'm finding my days drifting later - even though I often stay logged in until 2 am or later, I can't ever go to sleep for about an hour after I log off. I'm updating spreadsheets, re-sorting my tomorrow to-do list, and finding ways to release the potential energy I store when I'm waiting for calls. Yes, sometimes that is just exactly as naughty as it sounds.
So I'm changing my calendar again to reflect the fact that I almost never get daytime calls, even when I log in at 1 pm, so I'm no longer going to try to push myself to log on early. I'll try to log in around 2 pm - 3 pm Central most days, so I can stay alert through my lovely "I'm a sleep aid" calls late at night.

However, as always, feel free to write me if you want to catch up in the mornings, or earlier in the afternoons, and I will let you know if I can accommodate.

In the meantime, I'm using my time off to plot how to set up the Fuckatorium for cam... Or maybe I'll get a pedicure, because those Carlos shoes coming deserve painted toenails... Or maybe I'll....

I'll see you later tonight. Probably. Maybe not. Hard to tell. But if not, I'll see you tomorrow, all perky and bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Viruses Are Not Sexy

Computer viruses are not sexy.

While we're on the subject, neither are /cough /sniffle /puke viruses, either, but thankfully, I don't have one of those.

However, I have spent about 2 hours this morning trying to get my computer to stop popping up fake error messages and redirect me to ads for anti-virus software. Hmmmm, let's see, do I want to give these people my credit card number and install something from them on my system? Mmmmmm, no.

Dear Galiana, be careful what links you follow from your Twitter stream. Love, Galiana

Dear Readers, make sure your anti-virus software is up to date. Love, Galiana

Dear Jerks Who Write Viruses, I sincerely hope you never call me, because I would prefer to go the rest of my life without ever giving you pleasure or satisfaction of any kind. With full-blown annoyance, Galiana

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Heartbreak and Phone Sex, Part V

He found my blog, then my Facebook, and asked if we could do pay-to-view emails instead of phone calls, to help him get to know me first, and because his funds were limited.

I've been in a writing mood lately, so it seemed like a good fit: I could write, and productively fill time between calls with guaranteed income. I told him not to expect immediate turnarounds, but I was in.

His first email described me giving him a back rub, encouraging him, and then sucking him off before he fell asleep, neglecting his promise to go down on me, overwhelmed by sheer bliss. He wanted my reply to be me, the next morning, helping him make good on his promise by showing him exactly what I liked.

And then the story part of the email wrapped up. And he explained that he is in a wheelchair. He has cerebral palsy. He has very limited sexual experience, so sexual actions don't come naturally to him. He needed someone to understand his circumstances, but not let those circumstances define him for me.


I was sooooooo so so so so grateful I had said yes.

He's not my first customer in a wheelchair. I love feeling helpful, encouraging, attentive to restrictions (or directions to ignore restrictions), and the feeling that I am adding a bright spot to a hard day. 

I poured my heart into the response, playfully but calmly showing him what I liked. And much to my surprise, the me-character in my head changed up the action a bit halfway through. That saucy Inner Slut, she's not one to be pigeon-holed, is she?

He liked it. He loved it. He loved it a lot. He caught all the happy energy of it, and lobbed it back at me, and I was elated.

And then he explained that he was seeking the help of a professional (oh wait, that's supposed to be me? yikes!) because he had a lot of fear and anxiety around sex. But he thought about sex all the time, and he was tired of being afraid of his own thoughts, so he wanted to build some good thoughts. Sure, that makes sense, but why...?

Because he had been sexually assaulted. More than once. And had post-traumatic stress about it.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. Are you fucking kidding me?

Fuck the world. Fuck it in fucking half. How the FUCK could someone who had already been dealt a pretty crappy hand physically then also be dealt the crappiest of hands in a physical-emotional connection? What. The. Fuck.

I don't pray in traditional ways. I don't speak sentences, or words even, or not often. The way I pray has more to do with making mental pictures, feeling feelings, and opening myself to an exchange that I cannot find other ways to express.

I opened myself, doors blown wide, and wept. And the energy which poured back into me, the energy of a warrior, and of a muse, and of a healer, more than made up for the energy I gave. 

Then I couldn't write. For almost two full days. His requests were sitting in my inbox, begging for attention, and I would get 1 sentence in and freeze up. Grrrrrr ferrrrr fuxxxx saaaaaake... Why can't I put words together? Why can't I do his next fantasy? I can see it in my head. I know how I'd do it if I were on the phone...

/ding. /light-bulb. Ohhhhhh. I should record it. Give it to him as an mp3. Right. I knew that. /wink. /finger-gun. I'm totally following along here. Not slow on the uptake at all. No, sir, not me. /face-hide. /blush.

So I did an mp3 for him. I had a blast doing it. The orgasm was absolutely real, and it absolutely delighted me. He was happily overwhelmed with the result.

He gave me permission to share with you, my dear blog readers, a passage which I will give to you with great joy, and deeply amused respect, but without comment:

I am Sexually Accessible (a freebie comic riff response to a serious question)

Feel free to quote me directly when I tell you "People in wheelchairs love having sex!!!" (The exclamation points are very important - LOL)

Seriously, the number one reason I want to stop being afraid of sex is: I think about it all the time and I'd prefer to not fear the thoughts in my head, considering that sex shouldn't be feared.

The way I'm going to explain this is going to sound racist.  Please believe me, I'm not, and I'm just trying to communicate clearly.  I own every label of my disability the way black comedians own "the N word".


I'm crippled, handicapped, disabled, a half-man, a gimp, and I'll even except "retarded", on the first meeting, if you don't mind me knowing that you're a narrow-minded simpleton who likes to group people before saying two words to them.

I'm NOT handi-CAPABLE, dis-ABLED, Physically Challenged (I don't climb mountains every day, I go from a laying down position, to a sitting position.  I don't stand often because I don't like falling over that much.  This might qualify me as a lazy bastard, It certainly doesn't qualify me as PHYSICALLY CHALLENGED).  I'm not Mentally Challenged (unless you call me retarded, at which point I'm trying to calculate how many times I can run you over with my wheelchair before you realize I'm doing it. 
f(ouch) = Size of your stupidity/Size of your brain  Ouch = As long as it makes me laugh (usually forever -- I'm an ass)).

And one thing I'm definitely not is able-bodied, but then again neither are you.  Your condition on this earth, like all conditions in the material plain, is temporary.  Put another way, when you're in your 70s shitting your pants, I will have had decades more experience than you.


My heart isn't broken for him any more. Now it's just full of excitement with him. I get to be part of co-creating happy sex memories, and reveling in the knowledge that they mean even more than just making a rough day a little lighter. Maybe, in some way, they are making a rough life a little more joyous. I hope so.

I'm so very much looking forward to our long and mutually gratifying relationship.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


Dear Universe,

You understand that my powers of visualization are such that sometimes I can participate physically in whatever I am picturing mentally.

Apparently, the fantasy of him being a massage therapist with some powerful pheromones in his massage oil was exactly what I needed, even though I would not have guessed it.

I feel wonderful. Thank you.


Mistaken Identities

Public Service Announcement (PSA) from your friendly neighborhood Phone Sex Operator (PSO):

Please keep in mind that your PSO is not told your identity / user name when you call, and cannot look it up until the call has been connected for at least a few seconds, and then only if she is at her computer and logged in to the right page, which is not always the case.

"Mistaken Identity" mishaps can possibly occur.

For example, if yesterday's call to the new Role Playing listing involved me being transformed from a physiologically normal human woman into a freakish sexbot with a 12-inch cock, testicles the size of grapefruit, and breasts the size of basketballs... then today when you call the same listing and tell me you're the robot guy but you didn't expect to be able to call again so soon, I may not immediately remember that a few days ago, you and I enjoyed a leisurely transformation fantasy where I wrapped you in a nanotech bodysuit and seduced you into joining me in  post-human bliss. I may get confused and spend the first few minutes spouting phrases which would seem illogically inconsistent with our experiences together thus far.

Or if you have a delicious, sweet, gentle voice and identify yourself by only your first name, I may forget the luscious, slow, playful masturbation I guided you through last week, which caused me to record the note "happiest friendliest teasing masturbation ever", and may instead assume you are a frequent cross-dressing caller by the same name who considers herself a lesbian, but likes taking my strap-on. I could possibly then bafflingly ask you what you're wearing and refer to your genitalia by gender-switched pronouns.

I mean... of course those didn't both happen to me today. Back-to-back. That would just be horrible and unprofessional and mortifying. Don't be ridiculous. Of course not.


But to be on the safe side, to ensure that I will not involve you in someone else's fantasies and send you someone else's energy... please feel free to identify yourself by your user name as well as your first name, since the user name is unique in the system, and that's what I track on my spreadsheets for calls and feedback. Because "IHaveAPhoner" or "pkb216" are extraordinarily unlikely to confuse me. Or, equally effectively, you may work out a simple code name with me like "John in Missoula" or "Two-Hand Pete".

You know, not that it's a problem or anything, but it may work to your advantage if I were inexplicably confused one day...

(side note: I don't have callers with any of those names, but I'm irrationally amused by, and therefore proud of, "IHaveAPhoner"... Get it? It's like IHaveABoner but for phone sex? /giggle Wow, I'm a dork today)

This concludes our quarterly PSO PSA. Thank you for your attention.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011


Friday nights at 5, or Sunday nights at 7, he confesses his sins to me, a way to clear out the cobwebs from the week, or to hold on to the weekend for all it's worth. The misdeeds are naughty at worst, with no harmful consequences on their own. Masturbating without permission. Lusting over coworkers. Watching porn.

I punish him: redden his ass with my hand. Or a flogger. Or a paddle. Or a crop. Or a cane. It depends on my mood. But regardless of the instrument, the position is the same: he is draped over my knees, naked, with his hungry cock pressed between the lace tops of my stockings. 

After his punishment, sometimes he services me. Or sometimes I take him with my strap-on, pressing against his freshly spanked ass. Or sometimes he takes me, emboldened by adrenaline from his pain. We linger over the sensations, and savor the rising tension. We never rush. And even when I climax, thrashing against him, calling his name, he remains still, and strong. And, in that space, utterly mine.

After he releases, he thanks me, calmly, for punishing him. For letting him serve me. For taking him. For letting him come. My ragged breath betrays my pleasure as I accept his gratitude.

The other day, he sent me pictures: one of his mid-section from the back, and one from the front. That ass I had reddened a dozen times... it was perfect, exactly the way I had pictured it, slender but rounded, and deliciously, invitingly pale. 

The surprise was his cock: the slight downward curve and the smooth, long head looked like a deep throat training tool -- it would be unbelievably luscious to press all the way into my mouth and hold and savor.

I wrote him back, telling him my delighted responses. And then telling him to look into my eyes, deeply, and answer the question, "Do you think it's appropriate to send pictures like this?"

He responded back, quickly, calmly, simply, "No. It's not appropriate. I'm sorry. Will I be punished?"

... what do you think? 

Meeting In Person

Because I am non-monogamous, I've had callers ask if I would ever consider meeting them in person. For a platonic lunch? Sure. For hours on end of rambunctious sex? That's tricky.

A favorite caller of mine is going to be in town this summer, and asked me to write out my realistic caveats and expectations for meeting in person. I've been musing about the topic since I became a phone sex operator, so it's about damn time I put together a blog post already.

The trickiness boils down to this: because of the combination of (a) my mysterious neurological vertigo and (b) my dependence on phone sex to pay the bills, I protect my time and energy very carefully to ensure that I am available to work as often as possible.

So I limit my activities in life, including regularly missing out-of-town events which I would eagerly attend if I did not have that unfortunate combination. Don't get me wrong: I love my life, my life is worth living even if I have to miss a few celebrations, and I love that sometimes I can say yes and join in.

And I love being with a new lover for the first time - I love that a lot. And I love the idea of meeting a new lover by having them be a phone sex caller first -- the chance to get to know how we turn each other on that way is pretty damn sexy. And I'm comfortable with my ability to discern who I would be compatible with meeting in person -- remember, I was a slut before I was a phone whore, and I've hooked up from the internet after writing/chatting/talking on the phone plenty of times, before I got vertigo. My experience suggests that the longer I know a lover before we meet in person, the better the sex is.

Warning: this blog post is ludicrously long, and chock full of unsexy, fantasy-draining unpleasantries and logistics. Your boner is seriously at risk.

The uncomfortable truth is: there is no way for us to meet in person and have sex without it making me dizzy.

I've written about some of the issues with my vertigo (in this early blog post, and then also more recently), but here's a summary: I feel drunk all the time. Many things make me feel more drunk, including motion, concentration on complex mental tasks, and being in crowds. The only thing that makes me feel less drunk is spending time being still.

The basic theory behind my vertigo is that my neurons in a few parts of my brain aren’t recharging fast enough, so once they fire, they need more time than normal to be available to fire again. So when I do activities with certain types of stimulation, those neurons wear themselves out and need to recharge. As neurological impulses are re-routed to pathways which are not designed to handle those processes, chaos ensues, which manifests as me feeling progressively dizzier.

What I haven't yet mentioned on the blog is that, out of the 32 medicines I have tried so far, there are two medicines which allow me to be relatively dizzy-free for several hours a time, helpful enough to take now and then, but they have side effects and drawbacks.

The big drawback is rebound: As a drug wears off, I almost inevitably have a rebound effect, which is different for each medicine. The most common rebound experience is approximately like having a sugar crash, after eating ten times more ice cream than you should, on a day when you were already desperately hung over, from taking tequila shots until you puked. So it's not fun. My head feels woozy, my tummy is upset, I'm confused, I'm light-sensitive, and I'm cranky about it.

At its most severe, it feels like someone is holding my skull like a snow globe and shaking my brain inside it. And just like settling a snow globe, the only way to calm back down is to be completely still.

During a rebound crash, I need to be totally alone in a dark, quiet room. No, you can't lie on the bed next to me, because if you so much as move a muscle, I will want to kill you, so for the protection of our relationship, you can't be there when I'm rebounding.

Remember: you were warned about the non-sexy in this blog post. And there's more coming. Sorry.

Neurological stimulants seem to reduce my dizziness by speeding up the recharge rate to allow my neurons to fire again. I've tried a few uppers, and Ritalin has the most tolerable combination of side effects for the amount of anti-dizzy time I get. But, like most stimulants, the effects degrade with repeated use.

Behaviorally, I am irrationally talkative on Ritalin, and I'm convinced all my funny stories are hilarious.

Assuming I'm well-rested and haven't taken Ritalin in at least a week, so I have a nice, fresh brain, here's what happens:

* 1st day: I'm euphoric and comparatively dizzy-free for 6-8 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 1.5 hours.

* 2nd day: I'm euphoric and comparatively dizzy-free for 4-6 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 3 hours.

* 3rd day: I'm comparatively dizzy-free for 2-3 hours if I'm lucky, but jittery feelings drown out euphoria; I can do most things, but fucking would have to be gentle; the rebound crash lasts for 4 hours; my blood pressure rises to unhealthy levels.

* 4th day: The entire experience is basically one big rebound crash for hours on end, and my blood pressure rises to get-to-an-emergency-room-right-fucking-now levels. Not good.

* the day after: even if I just take Ritalin for 1 day, the day after I take it, I feel hung over most of the day: I have low energy, I am easily confused, and I am less interested in social interactions.

I love taking Ritalin for things I would not otherwise be able to participate in very easily (like Christmas morning with wiggly children, or my friend's wedding last October), and it is worth the rebound + hangover for such events. Better than not having those memories.

Neurological anti-anxiety drugs like Xanax seem to reduce my dizziness by relieving my mind of the background process of anxieties and worries, leaving more neural networks free to focus on the task at hand. Plus they block dizzy signals from the inner ear (which are clearly scrambled in my case), which is why they are often used for motion sickness.

The effects of Xanax degrade less than with Ritalin, but the side effect of making me lethargic and sleepy progressively strengthens.

Behaviorally, while I'm on Xanax, I act sleepy, giggly, stupid, and stoned; I have very little impulse control, so I say insane things, and should not be out in public for fear I'll take off my bra and toss it at someone like I'm a groupie at a Tom Jones concert in the 1970s. Therefore, I have to trust someone a lot to take Xanax with them, because my judgment is clouded, and I won't do heavy BDSM or bondage play on Xanax.

Also, when I'm on Xanax, I need a constant influx of caffeine just to stay awake. By "constant influx" I mean I need to drink significant caffeine every 15-20 minutes. This results in frequent potty breaks, so suspension shibari would be out of the question anyway.

(side note: I'm uncommonly sensitive to drugs... these effects are from the lowest possible doses, and I split pills in half)

Assuming I'm well-rested and haven't taken Xanax in at least a week, so I have a nice, fresh brain, here's what happens:

* 1st day: I'm delightedly stoned and comparatively dizzy-free for 5-6 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 1 hour.

* 2nd day: I'm delightedly stoned and comparatively dizzy-free for 4-5 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 2 hours.

* 3rd day: I'm comparatively dizzy-free for 3-4 hours, but the urge to sleep is increasingly difficult to overcome; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 3 hours.

* 4th day: The entire experience is basically one muddled and unmotivated rebound crash until I go to sleep.

* the day after: no matter how many days in a row I've taken Xanax, the day after I take it, I feel sluggish and unresponsive, easily confused, and I am less interested in social interactions.

Ritalin and Xanax combined:
Doesn't help. I tried. All the side effects, none of the benefits. Rats.

With my daily medicine:
After I first wrote this post, I discovered a daily medicine, phenobarbital, which I affectionately refer to as my "horse tranquilizer" because it is more often used as a veterinary medicine these days, which allows me to do more on a daily basis, with less dizziness, with the side effect that it makes me groggy.

If I'm fully settled, I can do dizzy-inducing activities for a while, but then I need to rest, and the ratio of activity-to-rest keeps degrading. If I don't rest in time, the degradation speeds up exponentially, as if my vertigo were rolling downhill and picking up speed. So having sex off meds looks about like this, even if none of it is overly vigorous:

* fuck for about 90-120 minutes then rest for about 60 minutes
* fuck for about 45-60 minutes then rest for about 90 minutes
* fuck for about 30-45 minutes then rest for about 120 minutes
* fuck for about 15 minutes and then I'm done for the day

The day after I did that full of a pattern, I'd feel dizzier than usual, and less social than usual.

When I feel anti-social, easily confused, or have problems completing sentences, it has a profound effect on my ability to earn money. There is no vacation pay as a PSO - either you're being paid to be on the phone or you're not. So when a day goes by and I'm not logged in, I forever lose the income potential of that day.

I would only take a new lover if I were attracted to them, no matter how much money was involved. Really, if someone I was not attracted to took me to the Bunny Ranch, registered me as a legal prostitute, and offered me $25,000, I would say no.

But assuming there is enough attraction for me to consider enjoying you as an in-person lover, romping with you in the flesh will knock me off the phones for a day or two.

It's complicated, right? Because if I'm attracted to you and want you to be my lover, then in some ways, that's like any other life-thing, and I shouldn't be compensated for it.

However, I am extraordinarily picky about how I spend my off-phone, social time. Honestly, I'm pickier about that than I am about who I would theoretically have sex with. There are lots of people I would love to fuck if I had all the time and money and non-dizzy energy in the world, and yet, I've only chosen to have two in-person lovers other than my husband since I got vertigo.

Another factor: while I'm not morally opposed to prostitution, I am opposed to breaking the law, so I won't take money for sex unless we're in a legal brothel and I'm registered as a legal prostitute.

However, money does make it possible for me to be away from my job as a phone sex operator.

I realized that if I had all the money in the world, and I had a friend in the same situation, and I wanted to visit with my friend, I would happily give her a gift of a few days' earning potential to spend one day with her wearing her out doing something she loved, so she wouldn't have to worry about the financial impact of her time off.

Once I realized that, I accepted that, although I won't take money for sex, I would take a gift which allows me to take worry-free time off work.

Sex would not be guaranteed, just as sex would not be guaranteed for anyone I would be meeting in person for the first time - chemistry would have to align, I'd have to feel safe, and I'd have to feel non-dizzy enough. Those caveats not only keep me legal, they are just plain true.

For safety and sanity, as with any potential partner I haven't yet met in person, we'd meet in public and share a nice meal first to mutually decide whether or not to become lovers.

Just in case we do mutually decide to become lovers, we'd both bring recent STD test results showing we're free of anything unpleasantly contagious, we'd both bring condoms to show our commitment to remaining STD-free, and if we became lovers, we'd use condoms during penetrative sex.

If several days in a row were an option, here's what I think would work best for my vertigo, but this theory is untested, so the degradation of my vertigo may be more severe than this:

* Day 1: Ritalin - 6-8 hours together
* Day 2: Xanax - 5-6 hours together
* Day 3: Ritalin: 5-6 hours together

I would not be willing to try more than 3 days in a row, mostly because I can't spend that much alone time with anyone without going a little bonkers, and unfortunately, we can't break up the time with museums or movies or concerts, because those are just as non-restful for me as having sex.


So, what is "a gift which allows me to take worry-free time off work"?

* My highest 24-hour take (my portion) was $356.

* My lowest 24-hour take where I was available full-time (at least 12 hours) was around $100.

* My goal on a normal full-time day is $150.

* I make my goal, or more, about 90% of the time when I'm available for 12 hours.

* Realistically, it would take $250 for me to feel totally stress-free about taking a day off work.
Bunny Trail:

Here's some info about my overall earnings, in case you're curious, because I don't mind sharing:

- Although I get $54 / hour at my current rate when I'm talking, I am logged in and waiting for the next call for approx 3-4 hours for each hour spent talking - if you count all my logged in time as "working", I average about $15 / hour.

- If I were available full-time every day (I'm not), and hitting my goal all the time (I don't), I'd be available about 80 hours / week, and make about $1,000 / week.

- Other operators (based on people I trust revealing their earnings, and some extrapolation from hints): My earning potential is lower than Mistresses who require regular Tributes, and lower than operators who produce a lot of content which sells well (pictures and videos and recordings), but higher than many other phone-only women who don't seem to attract as many repeat customers or long conversations as I do. I'm probably smack dab in the middle.

- My guess is that most people who work 60+ hours / week at phone sex average between $750 and $1,200 a week (before taxes, with no benefits, and with wild unpredictable fluctuations week-to-week). I'm sure established high-end Dommes can average $2,000 / week. I imagine outliers make more, but the odds of making $5,000 / week doing phone sex are about the same as the odds of getting a multi-million-dollar contract in pro basketball.
* Realistically, I would need a "set up" before meeting a new lover in person: one day off before we meet to rest and prep (which would include getting a manicure-pedicure to help me feel relaxed and pretty, but that would be included in my day of rest), and one day off after we meet to recover.

* Realistically, on day(s) we meet, I would need to board my dogs ($75 / night).



It's simpler to meet on my turf in Houston, of course.

* You pay your way to get to Houston. You get a car for yourself. You get a hotel room for yourself.

* My set up: (day of pampering and rest before, day of rest after): $500

* 1 day together ($500 set up + $250 for the day off for me + $75 to board the dogs): $825

* 2 days together ($500 set up + $500 for 2 days off for me + $150 to board the dogs): $1150

* 3 days together: ($500 set up + $750 for 3 days off for me + $225 to board the dogs): $1475

(Math you don't have to do: 3 days is the best per-day rate at $491/ day. You're welcome.)


Traveling is more complicated, because I need to take off the day I travel, plus the day after to recover- traveling is by far my most dizzying activity (which is a heart breaker because I love to see new places!).

So, for example, if you wanted to meet Friday-Saturday-Sunday in Vegas, I would need to travel on Wednesday, recover on Thursday, play Fri-Sat-Sun, travel back on Monday, and recover Tuesday. Even though it's only 3 days of play, I would be off work for 7 days, and boarding my dogs for 6 nights.

So if you wanted to meet me somewhere other than Houston, and you wanted me to have no anxiety about taking plenty of time off work, you would need to give me a gift of:

* You pay my airfare, and you pay for a hotel room for me - if you also are in a hotel in town, I need my own hotel room, or at least my own bedroom, to ensure I can be completely alone when I'm recovering.

* My set up: ($1000 for four days off - day of travel before, day of rest before, day of travel after, day of rest after + $225 to board my dogs on travel days): $1225

* 1 day together ($1225 set up + $250 for the day off for me + $75 to board the dogs): $1550

* 2 days together ($1225 set up + $500 for 2 days off for me + $150 to board the dogs): $1875

* 3 days together: ($1225 set up + $750 for 3 days off for me + $225 to board the dogs): $2200

(Math you don't have to do: 3 days is the best per-day rate at $733/ day. You're welcome.)

As with anyone with an unpredictable physiological condition, if we meet in person, I reserve the right at any point to bow out of any activity and take care of myself physically at any time in any way I see fit.

Since dollar amounts are simply gifts to allow me to take anxiety-free time off work, and no specific activities are guaranteed, there would never be refunds.

Ugh, I worked as a consultant too long... I can think of a bazillion other caveats, but I think I'll stop now before I get my lawyer ex-co-worker friends involved.

This topic is mind-bogglingly complicated for me when I try to make the leap from fantasy to reality. Hopefully this blog post has explained why.

But emotionally, in the world of fantasy, I love the idea of getting to know a caller on the phone, recognizing our mutual attraction and comfort, and meeting in person to become in-the-flesh lovers. What a great way to find potential partners!

Plus, the phone sex after meeting in person would be that much hotter, wouldn't it? Soooooo fun to think about...