My First YouTube Video: First Thoughts on Control

I just posted my first YouTube video!

The title is "First Thoughts on Control - Recognizing Abuse and Encouraging Negotiation" and it's aimed at people interested in control play in the bedroom. I do not think I have necessarily original thoughts on BDSM subjects, but I believe that every voice helps when it comes to encouraging safety and sanity, even in the context of for-pay BDSM over the phone.

I have more a generic intro "Hello World" video that I should post first, but upon re-watching it, I need to add one significant thought to it before I post it, and I've already stalled on posting these long enough (I recorded it 10 days ago). So I pulled on my big girl panties and pretended like it's okay to do things out of sequence.

(That screaming you hear? Several of my more particular Inner Voices throwing fits about posting things out of sequence...)

If it gets yanked from YouTube for being adult content, that's fine, I'll upload it elsewhere and re-do the link here, but for now, this embedded player should work (fingers crossed...):



If the embedded player doesn't work, here's the link instead: First Thoughts on Control - Recognizing Abuse and Encouraging Negotiation

Although the video does not reflect me in phone-sex / sexy-time mode, it does reflect me being all reflective and thoughtful, so for those of you who get turned on smart thoughts from smart people, you're welcome!

(many thanks to Domme Kyaa for posting her Philosophy of a Fem Domme series, which was the original inspiration for me to do these - I can't find the original links anymore, but the one linked is representative of her work)

Summer Fling

I Heart Summer Flings

I started my non-mainstream sexual explorations as a submissive, and have morphed into a switch-leaning-dominant. This week, I invested a tremendous amount of energy and passion in my femdom identity, defending and celebrating male submissives not only on my blog, but also on comments on other blogs that were apparently intelligent enough to be requoted.

So what was the perhaps inevitable response of the universe to ensure my life remains in balance? I had one of the craziest, most intense whirlwinds ever with ... wait for it ... a new dominant male caller.

Everyone who saw that coming, raise your hand. Hmmm, everybody, huh? In retrospect, the only surprise is that I was surprised.

The day we met, he called me twice, for a total of (never remind 'em how much they've spent on you) minutes. He greeted me warmly enough, but when his voice changed to tell me what to do, I felt my Inner Submissive shove her way to the front of the bus to drive, giggling and clapping like a lunatic.

He asked me if I can come without touching myself. When I groaned and laughed a little, he asked what I meant by that, clearly intrigued.

Me: Because if I tell you I can, you'll make me do that, but I really want to be touching myself already, but I haven't because I know you haven't told me to, but you probably won't let me shove this vibrator inside myself if I tell you I can come touchless...

Him: And what gets you over that edge?

Me: Ohgod that's not fair. (he laughs) Don't laugh at me. (we both laugh) It's... ummm... the command, you telling me to, the intensity of it, the intention behind it, if it has enough energy behind it... if I'm there in my mind...

Him: Well. That's a pretty red flag for you to wave for me, isn't it? How long do you think I'll wait before I give you that command? Will I make you beg to have an orgasm like a bitch in heat?

My Entire Inner Cast: OH FUCK.

He had me stand in front of the mirror, wearing only my panties, hands behind my head, appraising my own flesh, when he gave the command to climax, and ordered at me to keep my eyes open and watch myself come. It didn't feel like a script, it felt like something he was inspired to do by my responses.

It only got more intense from there.

I went to bed exhausted and dizzy, but happy.

We spoke again early the next afternoon, soon after I woke up. His first words, obviously full of genuine concern, "I read your blog. Be honest. Did I make you dizzy last night?"

My Entire Inner Cast: Awwwwww /sniffle

During that call, I hoped sincerely he had read this blog post about Love, The English Language, And Not Completely Pretending, and this one about the ways sometimes words tumble out of my mouth If I Call You "Love" because at one point he asked me how I felt, and I mumbled the crazy answer that was bouncing around in my head...

"When you call me a whore, it sounds like you're telling me you love me..."

Seriously. I said that to him. We had been talking for less than 24 hours. Fucking insane.

Thankfully, he seems to be a version of lunacy which is compatible with mine, because his response was to tell me say it again. Louder. And again, even louder. And again. Louder, you fucking whore, again. Each time, I grew more horrified and embarrassed at the ridiculous words I was shoving out of my throat, and simultaneously, more thoroughly convinced that the sentiment was true. I paused, my voice ragged, shaking to hear his response.

"Listen to yourself. A brainy sub trying to get a single sentence out, forced to enunciate it clearer and louder even as the sentence grabs your pussy and your heart and squeezes for all it's worth? How could I not love you?"

It wasn't a commitment to a future together, to any traditional use of the word love, or to anything at all other than a mutual appreciation of a really fantastic connection at a truly amazing moment in time.

Well, no, that's probably not true. There probably was a commitment, just a bizarre one: that both of us will probably always remember the way we were able to crash into each others' desires and feel delightfully alive in the wreckage we somehow created in each other.

I wrote him afterward, telling him the rest of the story I only partially told this blog post about my first BDSM lover, I Know Why:

... but what that entry doesn't explain is that moment when I was tied to a door frame, flogged bright red across my ass and back, with a vibrating egg trapped in my panties to ensure I was being properly conditioned to associate pain and pleasure, when he pressed himself against me, my entire backside on fire from the touch of his skin after the flogging, slid one hand around to my breast, and with the other hand, held my head up in a bit of a choke so I could feel him whisper-growl into my ear as his fingers pinched electricity through me,

"good girl"

... and I felt the world go black and I felt a wave of power, of certainty, of pride. I knew I could take it, more than I knew I could stand, and more. Much more. I knew I was strong. I knew I was adventuresome. I knew I was sexy. And I felt huge, as if I had grown, and I wanted more with a hunger that made me feel like I could eat the world.

... and that was the moment I knew that I would be okay, no matter what.

His response was to tell me to find a publisher. Isn't that sweet? Wait, how can I associate the word sweet with anything at all in this fucked-up blog post? Oh, I know, I can call this sweet, where he quoted a paragraph from that blog post:

I had worked so hard in therapy to take responsibility for my feelings and my actions. I had worked so hard professionally to teach myself technically and be in a position of leadership. I had worked so hard socially to choose friends who gave as much as they took, and treated me with respect. And I had worked so hard personally to admit to myself that I needed to leave the man I thought I’d be with for the rest of my life.

And he told me "This Galiana that you created shows your work."

I totally didn't cry when I read that. I mean, it's not like I had been fucked loony for hours on end or anything, so why would that make me cry?

He only plays with phone sex every once a while, in little bursts like this, then he disappears. For weeks. Or months. When he told me he was going away, probably for a good, long time, it made absolute sense to me.

It was the perfect end-of-summer fling: passionate, intense, a lovely stroll down the sensory memory lane of my submissive roots, and cut short by logistical limitations before we ran out of the juice to sustain it and started disappointing each other. (That's totally where it would have gone, right? I mean, I'm not just being cynical here, am I? Don't crazy intense firestorms always end that way? Can I tell myself that anyway, even if it's not true? Thanks.)

There are times I appreciate my life so much that I ache with joy.

In Celebration of the Male Submissive

from malesubmissionart.com

I have been reading a conversation on the web about male submissives, which almost led to a blog post title of "Heartbreak and the Male Submissive" but I decided, instead, to celebrate, in addition to empathizing.

It started with @maymaym (the guy behind the visual-celebration-of-male-submission site: http://malesubmissionart.com/) posting a link to this incredibly well-written piece discussing how often members of the BDSM scene devalue male submissives, even while valuing female dominants: http://www.labcoatlingerie.com/2011/08/09/the-cost-of-devaluing-male-submission-one-token/ This particular conversation goes back further on the internet, but that's where I joined it.

Then tonight, maymay posted a related link, from KinkInExile, who had responded to Professor Chaos, with something equally well-written, about being a geek female dominant who breaks stereotypes and has a hard time finding a male submissive partner, here: http://kinkinexile.wordpress.com/2011/09/01/what-she-said/

Since I just linked to other posts which may cause track backs here, I need to give a bit of context for who I am, why I am joining this conversation, and why I feel qualified to empathize with and celebrate male submission.

For most of my 30s, I was a polyamorous submissive, and marginally active in the BDSM scene in Austin. Professionally, I was a data analyst who became an IT Manager. So I am a geek, I love geeks, I love managing geeks, and I have fucked many an awesome geek. Also, I'm a leader outside of the bedroom.

Then I came down with a rare neurological vertigo which debilitated me from doing IT work, and I became a phone sex operator to pay the bills. I swear this is relevant, please hang with me for a few more paragraphs.

I started professional phone sex, naturally enough, with a listing as a submissive woman, but kept getting calls from clever submissive men who had discovered via trial-and-error that convincing a submissive woman to top you can sometimes turn out pretty well, because they tend to be empathetic.

As with any supply and demand situation, when the demand (for female domination) outstrips the free supply (and it does), a for-pay market is created. I was stunned to discover how many male submissives felt unable to get their needs met in the flesh for free, despite the best efforts of many of them to join kink groups and form healthy femdom/malesub relationships.

And many of the for-pay options in the web cam and phone sex world involve women who project a message of "I rule, you suck" which (a) perpetuates anti-male-submissive bias and (b) is a giant turnoff for many smart male submissives.

I was heartbroken. I am heartbroken. It pisses me off and makes me sad.

As a natural leader who found tremendous release in sexual submission myself, I have deep empathy for those who seek the delicious miles-away-from-the-rest-of-my-life of subspace. I get why it's awesome fun to float along on the waves of someone else's decisions. Plus, as a sensation slut and a pain slut, I understand those tendencies when they pop up for men, too.

So I put on my learning cap, discovered the phrase "service top" (a dominant whose pleasure comes primarily from enjoying their partner's pleasure), and set out to be the best dominant female I could be.

Guess who now has a full-fledged fetish for hearing men beg? Me.

Guess who has had so many delicious orgasms while dominating men over the phone that now the image of a man's hands with rope around them gets me instantly thumpy? Me, me, me, me, me. Seriously. Yum. I can't help it. I accidentally conditioned myself to be a switch.

And guess who is now considering collaring a service submissive? Me.

(By the way, never break the news to someone that you are considering collaring them in a public blog post. I mean, I never would. Pffff. That's ridiculous. That would leave him to sweat for hours wondering if it was really him I was talking about, even though he would know it was, and let his emotions build up to a fever pitch before he gets to talk to me, and who would want that, right?)

To be fair, I had switchy tendencies back in my slut days, too - I had spanked and flogged men, I had fucked several guys with strap-ons (not necessarily submissive, but often so), I had been the de facto leader in threesomes, and I had taken control of many an erotic activity without asking permission to do so.

Also, I'm pretty damn good at topping from the bottom if I do say so myself. Was that a scene negotiation, or a carefully laid path of stuff I'm dying for you to do to me? Both.

The anonymity of paid phone sex can facilitate confessions on a deeply intimate level. I have heard the struggles of many who swim against the cultural currents of male machismo and the expectations for male domination, and I have felt empathy in my gut, as strongly as I have felt empathy with women who have been molested or raped. I get it. I care.

I know male submissives who have been abused by selfish, untrustworthy, unsafe women masquerading as Dominas. And I know male submissives who have been enraptured by safe, sane, consensual play, and longstanding loving relationships. The play itself isn't the problem - the problem is when abusive people hide behind a facade of play to perpetrate abuse.

I know male submissives who have been devalued or rejected by BDSM communities. And I know male submissives who have been honored, valued, respected members of BDSM communities. The scene itself isn't the problem - the problem is when insensitive or abusive people hide behind a facade of majority orientation to be insensitive or abusive.

Every voice that speaks out in celebration of male submissives helps the conversation. Tonight, the urge to join the conversation overwhelmed me. I had to join.

I know I'm suspect because I do this for pay. And I get why that makes me suspect. I know I can't lead this conversation because I'm commercial.

But I also know that KinkInExile asks, "Where are the [dominant women] that _like_ sex, and respect their partners?" and I wanted to answer her: I see them. They're out there. I see them growing up, branching out. I see KinkInExile, and I see Professor Chaos, and I see subcommunities on reddit having intelligent conversations about guys who want to bend over for their girlfriends, or be tied up, or experiment with control, or experiment with pain.

I see the women in polyamorous relationships who switch in their primary partners, who then offer caring responsible professional domination services to a few close friends as a part-time day job while the kids are at school. Seriously, I took a workshop from two women in Austin who fit that description.

And I personally know five women who considered themselves sexually submissive before becoming web cam / phone sex operators, who got talked into topping and figured out we fucking *love* it. That's offline, off the phones, talking amongst ourselves, behind the curtain, women who care about our callers, admitting to each other how much we enjoy controlling men sexually. No, we don't necessarily love every kink that comes our way, but we have found some form(s) of control play irresistibly sexy.

I believe we are in an age of unprecendented plurality, where ideas are ever-easier to access. The way to help more women get in touch with their inner loving dominant is for dominant women to continue to talk about their pleasure, in whatever forums you have, with honesty and openness, as best as you can.

Ideas spread. They may spread slowly, but imagine how much greater the chances are now of forming a healthy femdom/malesub relationship than even just 20 years ago. I remember 1991 - I was 21 - and how little information I had available to me. My mind boggles.

KinkInExile also asks, "And yet what does it mean for me in this world that the person I want to play with most, that beautiful strong geeky smart sexually submissive man, comes wounded because the world got to him before I had a chance?"

And I reply, "Thank goodness you're there for him, to help him find healing, when you find him (or them)." Oh, and also, there are metric fuck-tons of them out there, I promise. Have you been to reddit?

In the meantime, the way to help more men accept their submissive tendencies, and for more communities to value male submission more highly, is for submissive men to continue to talk about their pleasure, in whatever forums you have, with honesty and openness, as best as you can.

I'm so so so so so sorry that it's so so so so so fucking hard for you. I really am.

So that's the heartbreak.

Here is the celebration:

I love the way a man's breath catches when my voice slows a bit, and I tell him to put his hands behind his back.

I love male groans of pleasure mixed with pain.

I love looking into a man's eyes and seeing absolute trust that although I may hurt him, I will not harm him; although I may cause him pain, I will not cause him damage, and I would rather cut off my own hand than betray such a trust.

I love feeling the rush of power when a man is begging to be allowed to have an orgasm, and the exquisite suffering when I tell him, "no, darling, not yet."

I love seeing a man deep-throat a dildo, and then glow with pride when I tell him that was well done.

I love hearing the guttural sounds a man makes when he is fucking himself in the ass because I told him to.

I love, love, love, love, love, more than I can express, the sound of relief and gratitude in a man's voice when we have experienced pleasure together at my direction.

And I love, love, love, love, love, more than I can express, how badass it makes me feel to dominate a man to the point where I get to hear that relief and gratitude. Those of you who have let me feel that way, thank you.

Hypno Revolution

I first opened erotic hypnotism listings last fall, but let them lie dormant for a while, because I didn't think they reflected me very accurately. Frankly, they were too bitchy.

So I rewrote them and started turning them on a couple of weeks ago now. If you're interested, check out the new look here: http://www.niteflirt.com/hypno+galiana

Since re-opening, I've had a few awesome successes.

The most dramatic has been with a caller who called me a good deal last fall, but seemed a bit frustrated, as if he wanted me to take him further in some direction that neither of us could exactly put our finger on. Somehow, the combination of the last six months of experience, my relaxing horse tranquilizers, and my reading further on NLP (neuro-linguistic programming) techniques managed to hit the spot. Before, he kept encouraging me to be "more dominating" and this time around, he's encouraging me to "do exactly whatever it was you did last time." Yay!

I've had a few role play calls, not looking for real hypnosis, which used to confuse me, so I would attempt full-length inductions and they would hang up on me. Now I recognize the signs more clearly, so I'm able to jump in and do a fake-mini-induction and then fulfill requests like "can you find out what the trigger word is that my girlfriend is using to get me to want to suck cock so I can stop it?" Suuuuuure. Oh look, if I say that trigger word, you talk about how much you love sucking cock, and the more I say it, the more you want it. What a shock!

The success that sexually frustrated me the most was the gentleman with the steady, smooth voice, who told me he just wanted to be tranced, and given mind-fuck post-hypnotic triggers, but didn't feel the need to have an orgasm. After 30 minutes of brainwashing and planting parlor-trick mild amnesia triggers, I brought him out and checked. Not only did the triggers work, but he was delighted. And wanted to serve me. In fact, wanted to do anything I wanted him to do, if only I would put him under again...

Ohhhh reeeeeally. Like, for example, what if I wanted to bring you to the edge of orgasm multiple times but not let you climax? Astonishingly, he agreed, and his groaning and pleading cemented the fact that yes, I have, indeed, developed a begging fetish. Holy. Crap.

I was a good hypnotist, though, you should be proud of me. When we approached the amount of time originally agreed upon, before I brought him out that last time, I suggested that he would feel fully satisfied, and he did. But me? Satisfied? No way - I needed a big fat vibrator and fresh batteries. Fuck.

Then tonight, someone called me for only the second time (the first was an introduction conversation), after having bought my hypnosis mp3 (this one here) and listened to it a few times. It is simple simple simple, with triggers for pleasure, and sure, a bit of suggestion that the sound of my voice is awesome, but nothing I'd call heavy duty hypnotic programming.

The sound of a man whimpering is just. so. luscious. Thankfully, he wanted a mix of hypnosis plus phone sex, so I got to get off with him. I might have let my NLP out to play a bit during the teasing portion of the conversation, and maybe he said afterward that he had not been aware that he had been begging to taste me, for me to fuck him, to be allowed to come. But oh, dear, sweet, delicious goodness, he had.

So how is this a "hypno revolution"? Or have I forgotten my blog title?

Don't be silly, I haven't forgotten. The revolution is this: I feel more integrated as a hypnotist now. I see hypnosis as a tool to be used in a much broader variety of settings. I see hypnotic techniques sneaking into my topping sessions. I see domination feeling comfortable in my hypnosis. It's like peanut butter and chocolate, but in a thousand flavors instead of just one.

Okay, ummm, that last sentence? Mmmmmaybe I need a snack after the powerful, rippling orgasm I enjoyed with that last caller, the man who whimpered...

Video: Paralegal Humiliation and Blackmail

You've been a bad boy, haven't you? First, you took credit for my work on the case, then you lied to me about your marital status, and last, but certainly not least, you are working with a seriously under-equipped little partner there in your pants, aren't you?

Tell you what, you just sit back and enjoy this video conference call where I do a strip tease for you on company time, and I'll make sure and save it with no audio so HR and the senior partners can get a good long look at it, if you don't give me what I'm demanding...

I was in quite a mood when I shot this video, thinking of a caller who is a lawyer (and I used to do litigation support, so the jargon is actually legit), who will likely be both horrified and fascinated by it. The humiliation includes legal incompetence as well as small penis humiliation. I think I had some leftover hostility from my old job!

I know there are more images in the gif than usually available for most clips that only run 6:22, but I had a ton of fun shooting it, and couldn't choose only a few looks.

I think I look kind of adorable in this one, if I do say so myself, but what I'm saying definitely shows that I'm not someone you want on your bad side!

It's available for $7 via NiteFlirt:

Request for Listing Input

I used to think that I did things in weird ways until I worked with dozens of programmers. Then I learned that most people do things in their own unique fashion, and that if you give them room to do things their way, often it will be most efficient for them.

When I have a big, complicated project looming -- like, for example, rewriting all my listings -- I need to ponder it a while before I actually start making changes.

I am currently in my mulling phase, which means I'm pleasantly distracting myself by importing my transaction detail into an Access database , and automating the process to parse customer name and transaction type.

Inner Data Analyst: It's about frikkin' time! The Excel process was killing me. Literally killing me dead, every frikkin' day. DEAD, I tell you! ...

Inner Data Analyst takes a while to calm down once she gets on a rant, so we'll let her unwind while we continue.

I have a request of you, Dear Reader, which is: Please let me know what you think I should keep and/or change about my current listing(s).

GENERAL LISTINGS:

For my general listings, I currently have three listings with a mishmash of ideas presented in them:

* http://www.niteflirt.com/listings/show/9463253 - Sex listing

* http://www.niteflirt.com/listings/show/9503597 - Role Play listing

* http://www.niteflirt.com/listings/show/9507267 - Cam listing

I want to stress that I'm smart, fun, playful, sex-positive, versatile / variety fetish, have a theater background, I care about the people who call me, and I consider myself more of a "lover" than a "girlfriend". Some of that is in there now, and some of it isn't.

HYPNO LISTINGS:

For my hypno listings, I currently have one listing template:

* http://www.niteflirt.com/listings/show/9498705

I completely need to change it. Right now it makes me look sad. Or serious. Or boring. Or something. But definitely something that I am not.

I actually want to stress more of the same things I stress in my general listings: I'm smart, fun, playful, sex-positive, etc.

But I also need to emphasize that I really truly enjoy erotic hypnosis. I do. It's sexy as hell.

And that I'm willing to do hypno role plays, but if you're calling my hypno line, I am assuming that you want actual hypnosis.

And that I am a hypnotist, not a mind reader, and there are dozens of choices to be made, and that I need you to tell me what you like and what you want for you to get the most out of it. I'm okay with putting you under and asking you to tell me then, but if you can answer before I trance you, that would be ideal.

MISTRESS GALIANA LISTINGS (changing to Lady Galiana):

For my mistress listings, I currently have one listing template:

* http://www.niteflirt.com/listings/show/9498763

I also need to completely change it. First, I'm changing the name to "Lady Galiana", which I think is a better reflection of my topping style than "Mistress" or "Goddess" or "Princess".

I know, it sounds a bit like "Lady Gaga", but I like her fierceness, open sexuality, and unapologetic support of the LGBTQ community, so I'm okay if a comparison is made, jokingly in passing. I'm comfortable that I am my own person enough to wipe out that image quickly.

Next, the pictures and the language I'm currently using there are too formal and serious for me. When I'm in charge, I'm still smart, fun, playful, etc, and the listing currently doesn't convey that very well.

And I need to emphasize that I really truly enjoy dominating sexually. It's a huge power rush and a turn on for me.

And that I love sex, so I could very well choose to get off while I'm dominating or using you (I don't want my listings to be focused on what I am not, but I think there is a popular conception that mistresses don't allow submissives to make them come because then they lose control. Maybe that's true in some dominant relationships, but I'd rather have orgasms, thank you very much).

I like the stuff that's in there now about being cooperative, but lately, I've been thinking about my flavor of domination in terms of being a "service top" -- I enjoy playing a dominating role for the many of the same reasons I enjoy playing a submissive role: I love knowing my partners is getting exactly what s/he's been craving, and more. Giving control and taking control are both means -- for me, the end is ensuring an intensely delicious experience for both of us.

IN ALL THREE:

For all three of my logins / "characters" / personas, the common theme is: I love hearing my lover all grateful, satisfied, and happy after we're done.

Help me out gang. Give me phrases, themes, ideas for layouts, suggestions for pictures you think would work well, thoughts I'm missing, anything you can think of to help my next round of listings be exponentially more appealing than the current ones.

Thanks!

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: http://psophotos.net/galianachance/cartoon/galiana04.jpg

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.

Nina Hartley Nails It

I've been a fan of Nina Hartley since seeing "Nina Hartley's Guide to Oral Sex" about ten years ago (it came out in 1994). I learned that men can eat pineapple and kiwi to make their cum taste sweeter (totally true), and I learned that one mental image of a woman's sweet blue eyes absolutely lighting up as she dives enthusiastically onto a cock can stick with you forever in the best way.

But now, I'm an even bigger fan, and also deeply impressed after reading an interview with Nina here, at the Beautiful Kind blog: http://thebeautifulkind.com/columns/fetish-parade/hosting-nina-hartley-community-interview

Nina talks about whether porn is degrading to women, and she makes some excellent points, including some things I've thought, but haven't yet put into words. Her foundational statement is, "Since I don't feel that sex is something men "do" to women, and that I, as a modern woman, have the right to the sex I want ... then the sex I've had on camera has not degraded me."

My thoughts are more about phone sex than porn, obviously, but sex in general as well. A curious wanna-be phone sex worker asked how I "got over" the idea of my pictures being out on the internet, and what if friends of mine found them, and she wouldn't want to know how gross her guy friends are if they found the pictures and masturbated to them.

I told her I didn't think it was gross if her male friends are attracted to her. I think that being sexually attractive, enjoying sexual attention, and deriving pleasure from sexual acts should not be considered "masculine" endeavors. I feel empowered as a woman when I enjoy sex, and when I celebrate the part of myself that likes sex. I don't think it is any different than celebrating my love of art or movies or psychology or spirituality - my enjoyment of sex is one part of me that makes me who I am, and it is okay for someone else to appreciate that part of me.

I find it sad and troubling that so many women give their sexual power to men, as if only men are allowed to crave sex, or enjoy thinking about sex. I hope I am doing my part to encourage women to embrace the pleasure they get from having sex, and from being sexual creatures.
I read a thread about being on dating sites as a male versus being a female, and I remember how assaulted I used to feel by male lust sometimes, that I couldn't leave my house without accidentally invoking sexual attention, despite my best efforts to hide from it.

But I think that was a symptom of me not having accepted myself as a sexual creature, and not yet having embraced the power that can come from being in control of my sexual destiny. Once I figured out what I like sexually, now I love feeling that energy come to me.

In conclusion: Thanks, Nina, for showing me how to love giving great head, and now again for re-energizing my thoughts around claiming my power as a happily sexual woman.

Becoming Mistress Galiana

Today's post brought to you by... I'm on the front page of Fetish -> Fem Dommes! And pleasantly shocked by that!

Three months ago, I wrote a blog post about being an on-phone Mistress. A commenter wrote, "I can't help but wonder if this Mistress Galiana isn't closer to who you are becoming?" I replied:

"I have about 4 more blog posts started to explore that very question, but the very short summary is: I've always been a social and professional switch (can bottom or top as needed), but never figured out how to translate it to the bedroom before now. I'm looking forward to continuing to explore it.

I know I'll never be just a Mistress. I know I'll always be a switch. I trust that I will eventually be confident as a Mistress, just as confident as I was as a Tech Manager after I'd been a Tech Manager for 6 years. Wow. I hope it doesn't take me 6 years this time."

It didn't take 6 years. It took about 50 calls. Patterns are beginning to emerge.

I have to talk about it first. As it says in my Domme and Hypno listings, negotiation is mandatory. Everyone wants a different blend of restraint, feminization, sensory overload, sensory deprivation, guided masturbation, tease and denial, pain, reward, punishment, encouraging or requiring bisexual activity, and/or cuckolding role play. Submissives who expect me to launch into a script tend to hang up on me. People who want an unusual blend, or a bit of connection before we play, are the ones who tend to call me back.

I love boys with toys. When a sub says he has a cock ring and a butt plug and a dildo and a flogger and clothespins, it's like having a road map to delicious sadistic debauchery. I know, that's lazy of me. But I love it. 


I understand. My honesty about being a switch has attracted some who want to know their Mistress understands their side of the fence. Because I have also experienced the delicious thrill of having a Master's or Mistress' complete and utter attention, knowing they have our mutual pleasure in mind, I am able to give that same focus. 

I want the best from them. If someone craves tease and denial before they climax, I want them to be sweating before I allow them to come. If someone wants to improve their cock sucking skills, I want to see that lipstick ring all the way down to the base of that dildo. I know having someone else spur you on helps you stretch yourself, and it's amazingly erotic.

I want the best for them. I genuinely want to help people be their best. So if someone is confessing guilt to me about things they found erotic, but disturbing, with another Mistress, I'm happy to guide them away from those pitfalls and toward new ways of experiencing pleasure. I especially feel like I'm helping sissies become their best, because there's so much to learn about being a good slutty girl! Heels! Makeup! Fellatio! Oh my!

I love erotic hypnosis. I am finding it amazingly gratifying to to be able to tell someone, "I am pleased with you," and hear them shudder with erotic pleasure. I'm not interested in brainwashing someone to their detriment, but I will enhance an orgasm every day of the week. Taking someone deep and strengthening their response to my voice is just fun. 

I have limits. But I wrote about those in this blog post, so I won't repeat them.

Wads of cash are not appearing. Financial domination is much more often a fantasy than a reality. The urge to pamper me and buy me gifts tends to disappear about 5 seconds after an orgasm. I believe that some women get large tributes from real financial submissives, but so far, I am not one of those women. I'm still enjoying the heck out of those calls - it is just as much fun to fantasize about being spoiled as it is to fantasize about seducing neighbors or being the lucky girl in a gang bang. But it ain't real so far.

I need to improve: teasing. I'm getting better at drawing out a teasing session, and I know dozens of ways to stimulate a cock with my fingers and tongue, but I still suck at staying away from a cock. I mean, honestly, it's right there, twitching at me, how can I ignore it? Plus, I have vivid memories of saying that I want to be teased for 30 minutes, but then 15 minutes into it, I'm dying to come, so I still tend to cave too quickly. I'm getting better. My pacing control is improving, and I'm remembering to interrupt the action more often. But there's plenty of room to grow.

I need to improve: return conditions. When a submissive promises me he won't masturbate until he calls back, and then he doesn't call back, I wonder: is he concerned I'll be upset? I won't be. It just shows how weak he is without my guidance and how much he needs me to help him be his best. Right? But how do you communicate that without giving someone an "easy way out" and being a wimpy Mistress? Confusing.

I still need to improve: humiliation. Sometimes I can be ruthlessly cutting - when I heard myself asking a painslut small penis humiliation subby if a penis that small was even capable of feeling pain and described flumping it with my finger, I realized my s.p.h. has gotten pretty solid. And I'm almost always much more cruel the second and third time we talk than the first, as if it has to soak into my subconscious that he really does get an erotic charge from this, but it would be lovely if I could jump in more easily. 


I summed it all up pretty neatly in an email to a financial submissive who changed his mind after he climaxed: 

I think sexual experience and sexual expression can help people on their path to becoming the best version of themselves. I don't personally understand how being humiliated or financially dominated can fulfill someone, but I know how being beaten helped me, and that is equally irrational.

Since I have limits of what I would say (and many other Mistresses do not seem to), I like to think that at least I'm a slightly safer pool to splash about it. The rocks you're drawn to by my siren voice are, hopefully, only foam board, and your ship should stay perfectly safe with me.

I'm loving becoming Mistress Galiana, so much more than I thought I would. Bring it on.

Corrupting Newbies

I might have just done a bad thing. He said I'm his 3rd phone sex call ever, that the first was probably a man, the second seemed strung out or drunk, but that he likes curvy, shorter, older women... so he "is probably in trouble" with me.

He likes women in nylons.

I asked if he wanted to kneel in front of me, where he could see what kind of panties I may or may not be wearing, and have me rub my hose-clad feet up his thighs, over his belly, onto his chest, and feed my toes into his mouth. His "yes"es sounded sincere, and maybe a little pained.

Or if he's ever had a woman press the soles of her stockinged feet together and slide his cock into the space created by the arches. His orgasm at the very thought was enthusiastic and rewarding.

He might have been playing a fantasy role. It might have been a lie that he is a newcomer to these parts. The fact that he'd called back again after two strikes meant that he was likely to keep trying, with or without me, right?

I don't consider myself a femme fatale, the seductress type who leads men to their ruin. I like to think I'm helping people by providing high-quality services that they were going to indulge in whether or not I joined the profession.

But man... that was kind of fun.

Domination and Submission

Who is really in control when one person is dominating and another is submitting? Who really has the power there? It's trixie, isn't it? Especially in the world of phone sex.

When someone calls my submissive line and asks me to dominate them, I've come to understand that what they want is a non-scripted topping. They want me to control them, but they want something specific that is springing from their imagination, instead of from the fantasy that someone else has constructed.

If I were a strict, traditional, ritual-based or humiliation-based Domme, I'd tell them to flog themselves for the impertinence of suggesting that they know better than I, and continue on My training program for them with no regard for their desires at all. And, honestly, then I'd be bored. Plus, then, they'd be gone to the next submission line to try to find someone who can give them what they're craving.

But instead, I listen and ask questions: How much pain do you like: spanking, floggers, paddles, clamps, slapping? Humiliation or encouragement or both: name-calling, setting up impossible tasks to punish you for failing, setting up tasks for you to succeed so you can be a good pet? Exhibitionism: have my friends to come over and watch or participate? Bondage: making you hold yourself still, or getting tied up? Feminization: panties, dressing up, makeup, being entered like a woman? Sex: being guided, tease and denial, eventual release, plugs, cock rings, getting pegged?

I don't ask all of that on every call, but that's the idea: I need to know what you enjoy so I can give that to you. So. At that point, who's in charge? Sure, I'm calling you bitch boi and stuffing my strap-on into your mouth, but if I know you love it, then really, I'm serving you.

I'll share a secret with you: When I'm being submissive to someone who understands what pushes my buttons, I think I get the better end of the deal. I get all the attention. I get someone using their creativity to drive me crazy, to explore and see just how many noises the Galiana Squeaky Toy can produce. I get to feed their pleasure and feel them feeding off mine. Maybe they're getting something out of it, too, but I usually feel selfishly, greedily, deeply satisfied after being well-topped.

So I understand what bottoms want. Well, bottoms like me anyway.


When BDSM is cooperative and interactive, the way I like it, and maybe even sometimes playful (/gasp - oh the heresy!), control goes both ways. Attention goes both ways. Passion goes both ways. Ideally, even creativity goes both ways, although more subtly from the sub. They're flip sides of the same coin, domination and submission.

Wanna flip a coin?

Orgasmic Greediness and Insecurity

During some cuddly, chatty afterglow, a caller said, "At one point, I was coaching you to come, really pushing for your orgasm, so much so that I was momentarily distracted from my own stroking, and I thought for a second, 'Wait, who is the phone sex operator here?'"

No kidding.

Somewhat similar to sex-free phone sex, sometimes I've had entire conversations consisting of me having a climax or two, with no reciprocal male orgasm at all. If you've read this blog entry, you can probably understand why I always feel a little imbalanced after those calls. Why did you get your blessing and deny me mine? Did I use up too much time? Too much energy? Did I do something wrong? Was my orgasm not stimulating for you? I have to reassure myself that it's okay, and trust that my partner knows what pleases him.

I love playing with the power dynamic of wanting to have an orgasm, but waiting for permission before I pop. It lends itself to variety: shall I earn the right to come, or just beg for it? And even if we're sharing control with nobody designated as the top, the concept works nicely because it is paid phone sex: it's your call, so maybe I should ask before I hijack the call with my pleasure (not, of course, if I'm obviously in charge - if you've asked me to dominate you or seduce you or teach you, then I'll let my waves rise and crest at whatever speed and frequency I desire).

I am intensely aware that my climax could be distracting for you, and maybe I'm just being greedy. Old issues can pop up, remnants from a time when I questioned if my higher-than-average sex drive meant something was wrong with me, an idea planted during arguments as a relationship dissolved unpleasantly. I  went so far as to have my hormones tested - all normal - and explore with a therapist whether or not I am a sex addict - I'm not. I mean, honestly, almost every day, someone calls to guide me as I masturbate, so if that's not what is happening on this call, shouldn't I be able to hold off until I'm sure you have the enjoyment you're seeking? How much pleasure should one girl need in a day?

Inner Protective Samurai (appearing suddenly but silently, as if materialized from the air): Well, hello there, old voices of shame. You feel familiar, and full of lies. I shall take this opportunity to slice you to ribbons with the sword I spend my days sharpening. (whooshing noises) And now I shall have tea. (disappears)

The rest of the Inner Cast loves Inner Protective Samurai a lot. We think everyone should have one. Her sword is sharpened by the knowledge that "female copulatory vocalization" is common in primates, and has been scientifically proven to arouse the interest of males. It's the way of nature, Galiana, let it flow.

Okay. I will. I'll try. I mean... Could you do me a favor? If you call and we spend a lot of time with me having orgasms, especially if you don't have one, could you let me know that you enjoyed yourself? Thanks.

Empathic Metamorph: Then and Now

I only have the urge to write in times of great upheaval in my life. When my first marriage was drawing to a close, I wrote two stories: one that would convince anyone sane that we should be break up immediately, and one that would convince anyone sane that we should be together forever. Both stories were absolutely true. 

The happy romantic story was, essentially, my sexual history. I've started drafting this blog entry three times now, but can't describe the Empathic Metamorph more clearly than I did for that story, so I'm going to excerpt it instead. The narrative voice is purposefully a little disorganized and flighty and young-sounding. Here it is: 

The Empathic Metamorph was a single-episode Star Trek: The Next Generation character ("The Perfect Mate"), born once every seven generations to this alien race. She was highly desired as a mate because she adapted completely and perfectly to the desires of every male she came in contact with, as if she had an internal radio tuned to their desire alone. If he was a Klingon and craved danger, she sensed it and growled at him. If he was the Captain who craved a smart woman, she discussed the finer points of philosophy and literature while calmly playing her lute. 

So there I was watching TV in my living room my senior year of college, surrounded by my best friends, my current lover and a couple of exes. And I realized that I was the freaking Empathic Metamorph. And that nobody in that living room had any idea that we were all watching me, because I was so damn good at looking like I enjoyed playing the lute. It depressed the hell out of me.

Later, I described for my therapist how, even when I barely knew my lovers or didn't like them much, I could still feel them -- their desires, their needs, but I could never feel myself. Maybe my blood rushed to the right places, and maybe my juices rose at the right times, but I was so focused on what they wanted, on what they felt, that I just didn't notice my body enough to tell whether or not it gave me pleasure.

The story goes on to describe how I finally learned to get in touch with what I enjoy enough to masturbate, and then have a deeply sexually satisfying wedding night, both of which are true.


I used to be depressed that I resembled the Empathic Metamorph, but now it seems like a source of power. The difference is control. I used to feel assaulted by the desires of others, bandied about on waves of lust I could feel rolling in to me. Since I didn't know what I wanted, I didn't know how to use that energy to feed any pleasure of mine.

Oh, the difference a couple of decades makes. Thank goodness.

Now that I know what I like (my "lust landscape", as I like to call it), I can use my empathic metamorph tendencies to identify where the desires of a lover intersect my desires, and then lose myself for a while, fully inhabiting the playground built on the overlapping lands.

The clearest, happiest example was with "Well Traveled", who explained that he liked to take smart girls and, in his words, "Barbie-ify" them so they become mindless fuck bunnies for his pleasure alone. My initial impulse was amusement at the term Barbie-ify, of course, but also confusion: how could I get to that place? We discussed the concept of the playground built at the intersection of lust landscapes, and he agreed it was the right idea.

So he suggested a hypno role play where I walked down stairs to shed years of world-weary concerns, then walked back up a different staircase to add worry-free years back on. He created a lust playground indeed with his words: rolling meadows and babbling streams, an idyllic, worry-free, frolic-aholic's dream. By the time we arrived there, my voice was higher and bouncier, my heart was lighter, my breath was shallower, my eyes were wider, and I felt awesome. The resulting play was a relaxing delight to both of us.

I'm not a bimbo. I'm not a Barbie. I'm not a ditz. But apparently, given a stream of focused desire at just the right dingbat frequency, I can get there. Or, as it turns out, I can get to dozens of other places upon request as well.

The difference 20 years makes? Now, I enjoy the transformations. I understand them. I choose to participate in them. I don't feel powerless or out of control; in fact, I feel the exact opposite. Now I feel like a bit like a goddess, creating and moving between worlds and characters and dreamscapes, gathering energy and gaining strength as I go. Far from feeling depleted or assaulted, now I feel celebrated and exalted instead.

P.S.: And now and forever, I would absolutely do anything that Famke Janssen ever wanted of me. Perfect Mate indeed!

Orgasms: Power and Control

Long ago, I read a non-Western philosophy of sex, couched as an older male instructing a younger male in the ways of lovemaking, that said that the female orgasm was a blessing to the man who causes it.

I love the idea, but I have to expand on it:

• An orgasm is always a blessing, regardless of the gender of the person having it
• An orgasm is always a blessing, regardless of the gender of the person "causing" it
• Causality for orgasms is a joint effort - both the person having the orgasm and the person(s) helping are at least partially responsible, and therefore, both are blessed 

In my own power-play explorations, I am fascinated by the power and control of an orgasm. 

For example, if I'm being submissive (let's say for the sake of visual effect: on my knees in front of a nice hard cock with my hands tied behind my back), the theoretical power dynamic is that I am serving him, and that he has all the power. And yet, in the moment when he tumbles over the brink into ecstasy, I can sense him losing control for a moment, and I always feel a surge of power, as if I have won something. My grin afterwards always has a bit of victorious gloating in it. Lovers have laughed at me, as in, "Well, you're pleased with yourself, aren't you?" Why yes, yes, I am. 

And when I climax at the hands (or lips or cock) of someone theoretically serving me, I feel that same transfer of power and control. I lose my sense of my self, my ability to choose, my ability to rationally decide, just for a moment. The French refer to an orgasm as "la petite mort", translated as "the little death" (explained well on wikipedia), as a recognition of the expenditure of one's life force in those moments. 

And when I have enough of them strung together in the right way, with enough breathers between them to avoid burnout, I can enter a "sub space" where I no longer want to be in control, where I no longer wish to decide anything at all. It can feel like I'm drifting on a current of air, or sometimes of water, or like I've expanded out into space as if I were universal. Physiologically, I understand that I've simply overloaded my frontal cortex, but emotionally, it can feel blissful. 

I love the endless loop... you serve me to cause me to surrender control to you who uses your power to get me to serve you to cause you to surrender control to me...  delicious.