Heartland Kink

This is a story of how to get involved in your local BDSM / kink community, as well as a little smut about my life.

The short version: my husband got to consensually smack an adorable masochistic college student in her early 20s, and I got to grab her boobs, and it was awesome. The rest of this blog post is the long version.

When we moved here in October, we knew the fastest way to find open-minded friends would probably be to involve ourselves with the kink / BDSM community. FetLife seemed a good place to start: a high concentration of people who won't disapprove of my phone sex career, and FetLife is excellent at discovering community events.

We went to a "munch" first, the name of a group event held in a public place for the purpose of socializing, but also to screen newcomers. You don't want newbies' first contact to be at a play party. You want them somewhere else first to give a less-charged place to ask questions, and to screen them. To pass that screening, most groups only require that you seem non-pathological and non-tar-babyish (a tar baby is someone who won't let you go once you touch them).

Here's how you seem non-pathological: Smile when you meet new people. Don't touch anybody until they touch you / offer to be touched (offering a hand for a shake, offering a hug, etc). Don't assume you have any rights - ask respectfully about everything, even if you're a Dom (especially if you're a Dom). Ask engaging questions about the interests of others (which types of play do you enjoy? which types of events do you enjoy? how long have you been in the community?). Ask questions about the community (how often do you meet? are there play parties? are there educational events?).

Here's how you avoid seeming like a tar-baby: Approach every event with the attitude that you'll find a play partner at the *next* event, but not at this one, to take the pressure off yourself - today, you are only building your reputation as an awesome person. If someone has spent more than 10 minutes with you, thank them for their time and attention, tell them you'd love to take up their whole evening, but ask if they need to mingle instead, thereby graciously releasing them if they wish to move on, and if they say no and stay with you, smile and thank them casually. If you compliment someone, don't follow it up with an awkward pause that communicates "see? I'm nice, now don't you want to fuck me?" and instead move on to the next topic as if you didn't just compliment them.

Other anti-tar-baby tips: Don't ask anyone to fuck you, or if you must and they say no, DO NOT ask again because that shit will get your ass thrown out. Don't ask anyone to play with you, or if you must as they say no, DO NOT ask again... You see the pattern here, right? It's best to wait until at least your third event before you ask to play (but accepting another's offer can happen any time) to avoid being seen as needy.

Never assume you have the same privileges as someone else. Story time to explain this point:

At our first introductory munch, the woman sitting next to my husband was playfully choked by two attendees. My husband DID NOT have permission to choke her, for two reasons: (1) he had never asked to choke her and (2) she had never offered to let him choke her. This is not complicated.

Along those same lines, because it was our first munch, and the first time my husband had met that woman, it would have been awkward for him to ask to choke her. Wait till he meets her for the third time.

Instead, my husband watched her being choked, and after the first choker left, he complimented her on how beautiful her expressions were when it was happening (compliments are good as long as you don't fall silent and stare expectantly after them), and before she had the chance to be awkward about accepting a compliment, he asked her how she found out she liked being choked. She got to tell a sexy story, he enjoyed hearing her sexy story, then they naturally wandered off into other topics with other people, with no awkwardness. She friended him on FetLife after the event. Who knows if they'll ever play together? But at least she isn't creeped out by him.

Anyway, the woman sitting next to me was AWESOME about explaining the structure of the community, who organized events, and what happened in the area. She was a natural greeter, an information fountain, very sweet. We friended each other on FetLife. The important thing is that we did not creep her out, which we did by being friendly and relaxed and grateful for her information.

Four days later, she posted on FetLife that she and her boyfriend/Dom had broken up (we had met him too). We asked her to dinner to take her mind off things, and to say thanks for the kick-ass introduction to the community she had given us, and she accepted. After dinner, she came back to our house and hung out with my husband while I worked upstairs. I heard a lot of giggling. They didn't play. My husband had all kinds of amusing stories to tell me later of how he cheered her up and learned a bit more about the locals. We engaged her and her friends on her FetLife posts in supportive, amusing ways.

So now we had a munch and a private dinner, and nobody has played, and we hadn't asked anybody to play. We were just nice. Neighborly. Kind. Supportive. That's it.

Yay bewbs

Last week, that same young woman let us know about a local party: bring a dish to share, and a kinky toy to trade, white-elephant style, worth $5 or less. My husband whipped out his maker skills converting a dowel rod and an unused wooden spatula into fierce-looking converted pervertables, and we brought dip and chips.

Since I had not been able to show my boobs the previous weekend at hub's holiday party, I busted em out for this one (picture taken before we left, when my lipstick still looked good).

We found ourselves at a cozy party of 10 where we were the only ones in our 40s, and only one guy in his 30s, and the rest were young whippersnappers. We mostly succeeded in the unnatural effort of "not dropping 80s references".

The hostess had obviously played before with one of the guests, since he kept picking up things and hitting her with them... hard. It made her giggle. Another guest brought her floggers and crop to show off. Several of the other kinky gifts were also things to beat people with. People started asking to try out toys, getting smacked and smacking for a few moments at a time.

Here's the important thing: everyone asked first, before trying a toy, and before hitting someone else. Everyone started out soft. Nobody hit harder until they were told they could. Everyone stopped when the person getting hit said "That's good, thanks!" I got to feel the spatula, the dowel rod, the crop, and one of the floggers. I got to use all of the above on others. Fun!

I wore the hat the whole party

Then the hostess was against a wall having a flogger tried out on her, and it went on for more than a few moments, and it got intense. She mentioned she was feeling warm, and we kindly offered she could remove her top, assuming she would not. She did. So we shut all the blinds, and enjoyed a topless woman with amazing boobs getting flogged. Oh yes, we enjoyed it a lot.

After they took a break, the hostess, clearly happy with the flogging, invited anyone at the party to hit her with anything. She was standing close to me at the time, still topless, and I said, "What about grabbing your awesome boobs?" and she said, "You can do that!" so I totally did. They were awesome.

About half an hour later, my husband wanted to see how the crop handled, so he asked the hostess if he could smack her with it. Note: she had already given permission to everyone to hit her, and yet, he still asked. She enthusiastically agreed, and after a few good swats, it was obvious that she really really really liked the crop a lot (she'd never had one), and he was really really really enjoying hitting her with it, and the room got quiet and watched, which obviously turned both of them on even more.

Twenty minutes later, when she was starting to bruise... badly... he slowed down, thanked her profusely, told her that he was so honored to have beaten her, and stayed with her until she hugged him and insisted she didn't need aftercare (he wasn't calling it that, but he was behaving in an aftercare-ish kind of a way), at which point he quietly faded to a different conversation.

Silly hat and awesome boobs,
as we were leaving,
with vertigo goofiness kicking in

We wrote her after the party and thanked her again for hosting, for being willing to be groped, for being willing to be beaten, and for welcoming us into the community.

So now we have new friends on FetLife (everyone from the party accepted our invites), we're signed up for another munch and another party in January, and we have a start on a fun sense of community.

The key to success? We weren't assuming we would play. We weren't pushing for play. We approached opportunities to play cautiously, with a lot of mutual respect and double-checking (my husband checked in with the hostess he was beating constantly because they didn't negotiate ahead of time). We approached the entire community and each interaction as if we were cultural anthropologists entering the temple of a religion we didn't know very well, but needed to learn more about. Respect everyone, ask permission for everything, assume nothing, and accept offers graciously.

And maybe you'll get to grab a coed's boobs. Squeeeee!

Kiwi Candy, the Crossover

The Hollywood-gorgeous Kiwi Candy and I were chatting today about callers we've shared in the nine months since she has skyrocketed to NiteFlirt fame. Background: she found my blog when she was first starting out, and at first I mentored her a bit, but we became friends as she kicked my ass in the ratings, and now I ask her advice as often as she does with me.

It's easy to bond in that vulnerable time of night that is made for fucking, that 10pm-2am window when both our defenses are a little lower and our minds are both set in sexy mode. We often keep each other company between calls.

She's as genuine as I am: she really loves phone sex, she really wants to please her callers, and she really is that adorable. But more important to me than her beauty and cuteness, she has the thing I require in my truest of friends: she genuinely cares about doing the right thing. Hell, if you generalize further, it's still true: she genuinely cares. She gives a shit. She's good people. I feel fortunate to know her.

Candy and I have never met in person, although I'm certain we will some day. (You'll get videos of us doing naughty things with each other if you fly me to her! Not kidding!) But we recommend each other a lot on our blogs and on our calls, which has led to us having 15 or 20 callers in common.

So today, we were talking about some of the Candy+Galiana fantasies our callers have played out with us, and we decided to do crossover blog posts about them. Because we're both giant dorks who amuse ourselves a lot. And this sounded fun, so we're doing it.

The Maid: He and I are married, and Candy is our maid, who probably never actually cleans anything other than my pussy with her tongue, while I'm guiding her head with my hands, and he's fucking her from behind. Oh, and my juices off his cock after he fucks me while Candy and I 69 with me on top. But not so much with the *dusting*, really.

Fembot Assembly: The Candy-bot makes a superb to help assemble a brand new Galiana-bot to test her pleasure thresholds. How does one test a new Galiana-bot? Have the Candy-bot lick and finger it when she is being fucked from behind, of course! Gosh. All the good technicians know that.

The Fembot Cat Fight: The handy thing about androids is that you can always wipe their memories and repair them, and they're as good as new! So, y'know, if the Candy-droid and Galiana-droid had their jealousy levels increased, we could rip each other to pieces... literally. It's obvious her chest panel is more delicate than mine, it's not my fault she can't function without this handful of wires. Oh, well, maybe it is. Oops. But what do I care? That'll keep her away from my man!

The Struggling Submissive: Since she admitted she's capable of having an orgasm without touching her pussy if the mental / visual stimulus is strong enough (as am I), he could tie her into an X and make her watch while he fucks me, and she can be released when she comes that way ... maybe twice ... if he's feeling generous ...

The Two-Girl Blowjob: The guy with the 11" cock (seriously, we've both seen him on cam, and he's not exaggerating) wants us both to slide our tongues and lips over him. Good, because I'm not sure either of us could take care of that thing on our own!

The Exhibitionists: Two different callers want to masturbate in front of us, as we're watching them, and possibly playing with each other, but the important part is that we're both watching him masturbate. We both honestly, genuinely love watching men stroke themselves, and we feel like we learn new techniques. We both especially like watching that guy in California with the full beard who does that overhand squeeze thing ...

The Strap-On: He wants to feel her pounding me with a strap-on because it shoves his cock deeper into my throat. Or me pounding him with a strap-on while he has his lips wrapped around her clit. Or one of us fucking him while he's fucking the other one. Or...

Oh good grief almighty, now I can't think straight. Surely someone has plane fare to spare, don't you? Pretty please?

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.

The Cat Came Back

September 12, 2010 - almost a year ago - was the last I heard of Inception guy from my Heartbreak II post. Eleven months later, on August 12, 2011, he called me again.

So much has changed with my internal landscape. When he found me last year, I was just starting out. I was learning my limits. I was expanding my horizons. I was exploring undiscovered countries in myself, boldly going with callers where no man had gone before, time and time and time again.

And now, while I don't feel jaded, with hundreds more hours of phone time under my belt, I do feel prepared, educated, and perhaps a bit better equipped to care for myself.

During the year, I had found him on FetLife, because he had given me his profile name when we talked last year. Once I joined, I read his profile, which made me miss him, and I tried not to worry about him.

A few months ago, I saw his username and call history show up again in my customer list, but I resisted contacting him for months, in case I tugged a tripwire in some unhelpful way. I assumed, correctly as it turned out, that his name reappearing meant that he had reinstated his account. More than once I kissed my fingertips and touched his name on my screen in a blessing.

(no, I don't actually touch my screen, because I am somewhat of a neurotic geek, but y'know... almost)

Then Aug 2, in a moment of weakness, I suppose, I broke down and wrote to him with a link to the heartbreak blog post. I admit, it was a selfish thing to do. I had thought about doing it dozens of times, and for some reason, that day, I didn't resist the urge.

"Please introduce yourselves," said the automated voice of NiteFlirt, in a rhythm frustratingly slower than when the voice said it eleven months ago. He said his name - just his name, not his name plus his town like he used to say - and I laughed and stammered and felt the emotions wash over me in waves: relief, concern, amusement, guilt, lust. Lots of lust.

"I guess you remember me." Typical of him: understated, wry, terse, and a tiny bit vulnerable underneath.

As it turns out, he had read the heartbreak blog post, back when I had written it, and he never thought I was genuinely mad at him. I mean, sure, I had been furious with him more than once during play times, mostly for denying me his cock when I was begging for it, but he knew I wasn't mad outside of play time. That was a huge relief.

Our unfortunate communication had coincided with his decision to quit phone sex cold turkey for a while. Maybe they were unrelated, but I prefer to think that when I couldn't keep playing that day, perhaps something in the intensity of our exchange helped tip his scales. It is more likely that he was pushing me harder than usual because he knew the scales were tipping that way anyway; it was the last drinking binge of someone about to check himself in to rehab.

He said the blog post was touching, and that he had re-read it more than once when he wanted to feel good about himself. My tears in response to that statement were not the sexy tears of desperation he had caused before, but they were heartfelt nonetheless.

We had a lovely, tender, playful, caring conversation, catching up on the events of our respective almost-year. I said something slightly smart-assed, and he took a long, deep breath, his voice changed, and he asked me, "Did you forget how to address me, bitch?" My heart got so happy it skipped a beat - we were going to play.

And play we did. It was delicious, nourishing, rough and tumble, fun, and just exactly degrading enough for my Inner Emotional Masochist to curl up into a delighted, bruised ball and sleep, satisfied to have her playmate back, even if only one more time.

(Irrelevant and distracting side note regarding the title of the blog post, I remember seeing Rowlf the Dog singing this on The Muppet Show: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltlPINPn8UU. The content of the song is utterly non-applicable here, because I am not trying to get rid of him, but the title made most of me happy, so I kept it, and Inner Editor will have to get over it.)

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!

Subby With Hubby

Warning: Those of you who like to pretend that I am never with another man should skip this post.

I have a new picture set up for sale, called "Subby With Hubby", which is way too cutesy, but once I thought of it, I couldn't let it go.

During my 40th birthday celebration photo shoot, I needed some assistance with the portions of the evening where I was being submissive, and my husband was kind enough to offer a helping hand.

He helped position me when I was clamped in yellow:

He helped bind me when I was hog-tied in purple:

He helped put a big ol' handprint on both sides of my ass (most of the picture set is him spanking me HARD, twice, me reacting, and then me showing off his "handiwork" as it reddened up nicely):

He helped splash me with wax at the end of the night (although we didn't get very far because we'd been photographing for five hours, and the candle had to be really close so we didn't mess up the photographer's kitchen, and the heat was too intense for me on my breast, and all of a sudden, I was DONE... but my boobs do look kinda awesome when I'm lying on my back on a towel on the kitchen floor):

My personal favorite picture of the entire night: after the spanking (two swift strokes with NO warmup), he felt a bit bad, so I assured him I wasn't mad, and the photographer caught it. Awwww:

There are 57 photos in the set, all 2048 x 1364 or 1364 x 2048 pixels (that's more than four times larger than these preview pics), so there's at least one detailed picture of every part of my body in this set. Ass-lovers and spanking fans will be especially happy, I think.

The set is just $15, which includes a lot of pictures, high quality, and a wide variety of shots. If you like your Galiana submissive, turned on, and writhing in (pain? / pleasure?), purchase by clicking here:

Topping and Subbing Picture Sets

In keeping with my tagline ("a Phone Sex Operator with a fetish for variety"), when I had my 40th birthday celebration photo shoot, I made sure to get pictures showing my dominant side and my submissive side in each outfit.

Some of these picture sets are now for sale for the first time as of this weekend, and some of them have already had their own dedicated blog post introducing them, but I wanted to put them all together in one blog post... and here it is!

The number before the "px" indicates that all pictures in the set are at least that many pixels tall or wide. That means the pictures for sale are many times larger than the sample preview pictures below, and show much more detail, much more clearly. 

The price is $10 for each set, except "Mistress In Red" where I felt the variety and quantity justified a higher price of $15.

MISTRESS IN RED 39 pictures. 2048 px. $15. (new!)
These 39 hi-res pictures are of me being toppy in my red and black corset, fishnet hose, and black latex ankle boots. The fun includes me growling:

... flipping you off:

... brandishing a flogger:

... and threatening an inadequately small penis-ish attachment on the Sybian with my boot:

This is the most varied set in terms of poses, expressions, and activities. So if you like your Galiana tough, purchase Mistress In Red by clicking here:



SUBMISSIVE IN RED 37 pictures. 2048 px. $10. (new!)
These 37 hi-res pictures are of me in a red corset and fishnet stockings and vinyl ankle platform boots, on a kitchen floor, obeying commands to masturbate:

... and then to kneel:

Pictures include bare pussy and ass in a few shots. So if you like your Galiana turned on at being ordered around, purchase Submissive in Red, by clicking here:



BONDAGE IN RED 37 pictures. 2048 px. $10. (new!)
These 37 hi-res pictures are of me in a posture cuff, wrist cuffs, a ball gag, a corset, and fishnet stockings. My expressions range from frightened:

... to amused:

... and maybe a bratty moment or two:

A friend of mine said of these pictures, "You don't look like a damsel in distress. You look like a superhero about to escape." So if you like your Galiana tied up and gagged, regardless of the outcome of the story, purchase Bondage in Red by clicking here:



FLOGGER IN PURPLE 22 pictures. 2048 px. $10. (new!)
These 22 hi-res pictures are of me, in soft purple babydoll lingerie, wielding a flogger:

... or two:

... and flipping some birds.

The photographer and her aide (my temporarily conscripted husband) loved the "perverted cheerleader" vibe of me happily twirling two floggers. So if you like your Galiana playfully threatening, purchase Flogger in Purple by clicking here:



Stern In Purple 23 pictures. 2048 px. $10. (new!)
These 23 hi-res pictures are of me, in soft purple babydoll lingerie, looking more strict than normal: 

... more stern than normal:

... and maybe even a bit haughty:

Pictures include two shots of my bare ass. So if you like your Galiana judgmental, purchase Stern in Purple by clicking here:



Bondage In Purple 20 pictures. 2048 px. $10. (new!)
These 20 hi-res pictures are of me on my tummy in soft purple lingerie and grey silk heels, blindfolded and hog-tied by scarves, with a leather bit gag. Chesty from the front:

... or showing off my ass (there is a thong there, so technically it's not nudity...):

I designed the bondage pattern, and loved being in the tie - I was enjoying squirming against the restraints so much, I almost didn't want to get out of it. So if you like your Galiana helpless, but well-displayed, purchase Bondage in Purple by clicking here:



Strap-On In Yellow 25 pictures. 1024 px. $10.
These 25 high-res pictures are of me in yellow lingerie wielding my bright blue Feeldoe, both as a weapon:

... and for naughtier uses:

I love using the Feeldoe (on women and men!), and I love the point-of-view feeling to this set, as well as the contrast between the sweet lingerie and the mildly threatening nature of a strap-on. So if you like your Galiana geared up for action, purchase Strap-On In Yellow by clicking here:



Subby In Yellow: 34 pictures. 1024 px. $10.
These 34 high-res pictures are of me being submissive in sweet yellow lingerie: blindfolded, gagged, with clamps on my nipples and labia (including close-ups). I can't show the clamps, but I can show myself gagged with my own panties:

... and my face when the clamps came off (pain and relief):

I love how these came out - I chose the most brightly-colored BDSM implements possible to complement the innocent-looking yellow lingerie, and the result was exactly what I hoped: a candy-colored painslut. Torture never looked so sweet! So if you like your Galiana flooded with adrenaline, purchase  Subby In Yellow by clicking here:


As if this post weren't complicated enough... if you want to read about why I consider topping and subbing flip sides of the same coin, please do so in this blog post.

Or, if you want to read my first published erotica, from 2002, which explores my very earliest feelings about taking control in a BDSM setting (I started as a submissive), read "Enriched" from the Exotica archives at Clean Sheets.

For me, playing with control, pain, and emotional intensity add delicious flavor to a sexual experience. I'm glad I managed to capture a few expressions of my enjoyment to be able to share them with you.

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.

Splitting Personalities: Hypno & Mistress Galiana

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Submission In Yellow

With all the talk lately on this blog about me dominating and controlling and wiping minds, it might be easy to forget that I absolutely love being a submissive pain-slut now and then. I love the endorphins. I love the challenge of "Can I take one... more... minute...?" And I love the way my brain stops thinking, and all I can do is feel. Delicious.

During my 40th birthday photo shoot, I planned submissive and dominant photos for each outfit. For my sweet pastel yellow lingerie submissive portion, I chose a pastel purple blindfold, pink panties as a gag, a cute rhinestone collar, bright neon chip clips for my nipples and labia (yyyyeouch), and a tiny bubble-gum pink vibrator with a clit stimulator.

The concept was: the cheeriest, brightest, cutest painslut pictures possible. I'm obviously way too easily amused.

Blogspot won't let me show nipples or labia, so here's the safe stuff:

But the pictures for sale include my full body, including close-ups of the clamps and vibrator on my pussy.

The time stamps on the pictures indicate that I was clamped for less than ten minutes, but my face when I removed them indicates that was plenty of time, thank you very much:

Don't worry, the pain subsided... see?

Oh, wait, maybe that's delirium kicking in... It's hard to tell.

The full set of 34 pictures is available via NiteFlirt for $10. Delivery is via a web page which has a little caption for each picture, and also via a zip file with higher-resolution pictures but no captions.



And of course, you can find all pay-to-view packages for sale on My Flirt Store. Hey, wow, look, I'm up to 25 things for sale now! Good for me!

Now I just need to get my butt in gear to also put together the submissive pics from the purple & red outfits...

I Know Why

As my caller reloaded his account, I thought about how I felt when I was first learning about being submissive in a BDSM sense, nine years ago.

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.

I was tired of working hard. I was tired of being strong. I was tired of standing up for myself. I wanted so badly to find a place I could relax.

I found stories, erotica, of people handing themselves to one another. I envied the submissives, with their hands and legs bound and mouth gagged. I envied their time off from having to make decisions.

I flew a long distance to meet a man who wrote such stories, to let him tie me up, gag me, beat me, use me, teach me. We had written a thousand emails and spoken over the phone dozens of times. I knew he cared for me, and I knew I trusted him, and I knew that I could never explain to anyone exactly why.

For four days, I decided nothing, but I felt everything. I felt every inch of my skin, kissed by floggers and crops and paddles. I felt every curve of my body, explored by his hands and mouth. I felt every muscle, stretched and pushed and twisted in ways I would never have imagined.

The caller came back from reloading his account, holding his breath, wondering what his Mistress had in store for him.

Me: I know why you come to Me
Pet: (barely above a whisper) You do?
Me: You're so strong all the time, aren't you? For everyone else?
Pet: yes
Me: They all need you to be strong, don't they?
Pet: yes... yes
Me: Not with me, pet. You can be weak with Me.
Pet: (crying) yes
Me: I'll take care of you, pet. Let me take it from you. Give it to Me, all of it. Let it go.

... and he did, choking through a release that felt like it loosened a knot in his stomach that had been a lifetime in the making.

Sometimes what I do on the phone is help someone follow a strong biological urge to drain their testicles of sperm.

And sometimes what I do on the phone is help someone feel safe, by hurting them, to let them know they don't have to be in charge.

Thank you, pet. Well done.

How to Explore Lust Landscapes in Three Minutes or Less

Several of my earliest blog posts mentioned lust landscapes, especially The Best Thing So Far, and this quote from a later blog post:: 

I believe that any two people who are willing to engage emotionally have the ability to create a unique space together. Person X has a lust landscape with 50 things in it. I have a lust landscape with 50 things in it. Our 15 things that overlap become our playground, with unique features, unique possibilities, and a unique feel. I love creating and exploring those playgrounds.

I'm feeling the urge to elaborate. Those explain the concept, but today I want to explain practically how to quickly find mutual ground on each other's lust landscapes with the pressure of limited time.

Deciders/Scripters:
Some callers know exactly what they want, which makes it easy. I listen to their explanation or request, ask clarifying questions about my part (including attempting to redirect anything off-limits for me), and then it's up to me to find the overlapping desires on my own.

The decider/scripter dynamic is less attractive to me when it includes answering the phone to "suck it, bitch" or some other indicator that they're not interested in my real-world responses. Then I do my job, and it feels like a job, by describing something sexy and faking my involvement. These calls are non-draining for me emotionally and physically, but they're boring.

The decider/scripter dynamic is far more attractive to me when someone tells me what they want as the beginning of a conversation, as the starting place for spinning a tale together. I love that.

For example, Saturday night, I had a new caller tell me that he can't feel intimacy without pain. So the choices weren't wide open, because we were going to play with pain, but then he wanted to hear my thoughts as well. The conversation about our interests was foreplay. As we revealed more about what we liked and found overlap, we both obviously got worked up, so by the time we started playing, it was immediately intense. And devilishly fun.

(For the record, I love the physiology of mild or moderate pain during sex -- the addition of flight-or-fight hormones adds delicious intensity to sex for me, but I don't want to have recovery time with anything severe like cutting or branding).

So when a caller knows what they like, and allows me some co-creation wiggle room, I can emphasize aspects which are more appealing to me to ensure my active participation. Many of my favorite calls have been co-created just like this.

Pleasers: 
Some callers want to know what I like, and pick something that overlaps for them. Pickers are easy for  me now, with practice, although it threw me for a loop when I was new. My mentality was so customer-focused that it was hard to turn the attention to myself and honestly believe that someone would call a phone sex line wanting to please me. Silly me. Not a problem anymore!

If a pleaser is leading the conversation, it is super-simple: I answer questions honestly, and let them know if something is turning me on. Sometimes, pleasers get so stimulated by simply discussing my lust landscape that they masturbate to just that. If they admit to stroking, I admit that's smokingly hot (because what's not to love about someone getting turned on by me talking about myself?), and they usually finish to my vividly detailed expansion of their favorite answer thus far.

If a pleaser wants me to lead, I have built sort of a mental decision tree: You in charge, me in charge, or both? Vanilla or kink? Pain? Restraints? Humiliation? There are so many options of things I enjoy that I have to limit myself and try to get just enough mutually exciting components for us to begin, without letting the question period drag on too long. Y'know, unless they're into interrogations...

Submissives:
Some callers say they want me to choose. Out of the blue, with no context whatsoever, they want me in charge, want me to choose. I have no idea if they're hoping I will force them to dress in women's lingerie (yum), tie them down and sit on their face (yum), kneel them in front of me to worship my feet with their tongue (yum), or call them useless pathetic cum rags and describe how my three black friends with huge cocks are going to use their ass and mouth (yum).

I think I've come up with a creative solution for this: I play a little game I call "one or two or both". One: I tease you. Two: you get to have an orgasm. You have to choose one or two or both. Those who don't initially want to choose are reprimanded, usually with the phrase, "That is a chickenshit answer, and I am displeased. Answer me or get the fuck off my phone." That seems to clear up confusion. And it amuses me.

In reality, subs have the same decision tree as pleasers, except I know the first answer: I'm in charge. 

I could probably write out my entire decision tree if someone asks for it. In the meantime, hopefully you now feel more empowered to figure out your sexual overlap in three minutes or less. Class is dismissed. Well, except for you two in the back who were passing notes. You'll need to stay after...

Dozen Orgasms

I have a wide variety of laughs: giggles, guffaws, belly laughs, snickers, an explosive surprised laugh-bang, and short stifled snorts when I'm trying not to lose the food or drink in my mouth.

When I'm laughing my hardest, I don't make sound or breathe for many seconds, followed by a peculiar high-pitched hissing sound as if air is leaking out of me. The hardest I ever laughed was planning my wedding - I was working long days in a stressful crunch time and not sleeping nearly enough. The final catering menu/invoice for approval said "Shrimp Screwers" instead of "Shrimp Skewers". Could. Not. Recover. My now-husband had to guide me to bed, wiping tears from my eyes, to let me rock myself to sleep with sporadically shaking fits of hysteria.

During my early-30s sexual rampage, I was called a "good squeaky toy" by one lover who liked the variety of noises I make during sex. Gasps, moans, sighs, whimpers, grunts, and that encouraging "mmhmm" hum when a cock in my mouth is getting close to climax.

I've claimed that I probably have a dozen orgasms, but I've never categorized them. Until one Saturday after I became a phone sex operator - also known as today - musing idly between calls, I decided to try. In no order (but numbered for my convenience):

1. Soft External: There's a soft rolling kind that requires gentle, constant stimulation on my clit and inner labia -- ideally from a tongue -- and it feels like warmth spreads all over me and all my muscles pulse gently, then release in a way that leaves me feeling relaxed.
2. Soft External Rolling: When I have a #1 orgasm and the gentle, constant stimulation doesn't stop, and I don't resist climaxing, I can sometimes start having orgasm after orgasm, and they start smooshing together until they blur into this one crazy long thrashing breathtaking rolling orgasm that feels like it will never end.
3. G-spot Fingers: When fingers are rubbing my G-spot, with the same kind of circling, pulsing pressure you'd use to polish a silver spoon, I have muscle spasms all over my body before and during the orgasm. They're a little draining, and either I have to rest for a bit afterward, or they make me ravenous for more, and there's no way to predict which it will be. 
4. G-spot Fingers, Clit Tongue: When I have a #3 orgasm but add in a tongue and lips to stimulate my clit, it's a hard, strong, overpowering orgasm that I can't always control, even if I'm tied up and trying not to come. It feels like a big bang from my tummy that hits all my muscles at once. I almost always need to pause a minute or two after these. And not that playful "oh well then I'll just keep going" kind of request to rest, I mean pause for real or you risk a kick in the face from involuntary spasms.
5. Vibrators: My favorite vibrator combination is one inside me that hits my G-spot, and one external that has a diffused, gentle vibration on my clit. My clit is too sensitive for direct hard, strong vibrations - that just feels uncomfortably painful instead of arousing. (I know, what kind of a lousy pain slut am I? Sheesh) Vibrator orgasms build steadily to a climax that I feel mostly in my legs, with a tingling warmth that makes me want to roll into a ball.
6. Pain Slut: To defend my pain slut honor... If I've been flogged, clamped, pinched, spanked, or a combination of those, the orgasm spreads itself through my whole body, as if it's starting everywhere, instead of starting in my pussy. Usually these involve embarrassingly loud noises and require a bit of a recovery pause after. 
7. Girl On Top: When a man is on his back and I'm riding him and grinding my clit into the base of his cock, I can have these crazy-making sneak-up-on-me orgasms. All of a sudden, I'm past the edge, and I don't know when I got close. And from that moment until I climax, every part of my skin gets exponentially more sensitive to touch and pain, so it is intensified with a well-time smack or pinch or grab. When I'm with a partner I trust, I have been known to spontaneously burst into tears after these orgasms, as if it uncorked a bottle of champagne. Wrapping your arms around me and saying "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere" is the best way to help me settle back in.
8. Mixing In Anal: Any of the above orgasms are made more intense and guttural and primal with the addition of anal stimulation, whether it be fingers or a butt plug or a vibrator or (in very limited cases with people I trust deeply) a cock. Primal is the best adjective, but I'm not sure I can explain what exactly I mean by that... it just feels deeper and more raw. 
9. Bound and/or Blindfolded: When restraints or restrictions or sensory deprivation are added into the mix, I become more relaxed, oddly enough, and have much more control over my climax. I love feeling myself involuntary strain against cuffs or ropes - that sensation makes all other sensations more like warm liquid pleasure. Orgasms when I'm bound tend to be more deeply satisfying, even if they're not always as loud or as full of thrashing. 
10. While Struggling: I love the physicality of struggling against my partner during sex (with safe words and someone I trust), and the orgasms I have while struggling feel athletic: strong, swift, and full of adrenaline. They make me feel stronger and hungrier, which is bizarrely counter-intuitive.
11. Slow-Build Overstimulated: Regardless of the mixture of stimulation methods, if an orgasm builds over a long time (30 minutes or more) with pauses, interruptions, teases, and direct instructions not to come, I go to a place where my rational brain no longer feels in control, and I'm shaking with lust. When that hunger is finally released, I feel like I'm exploding, like my body and skin are being shattered and scattered. That kind of orgasm can sometimes cause the rare end-of-Galiana ragdoll phenomenon, where I feel limp, impervious to all sensation, and unable to figure out my safe word for a few minutes. Trust required.
12. My Favorite - Missionary: It sounds boring by comparison, I know, but there's something about being under a man, with his whole chest against my whole chest, nuzzling into each others' necks and shoulders, when I'm urging him deeper with my hands and legs and hips, and he's pressing himself completely against me, that grinds into my clit and pussy perfectly. I love feeling trapped when I arch against him, and feeling him respond to my tightening when I come. I've been told sometimes it's a struggle to stay inside me because I clench so hard like that. I feel like my whole body floats and swirls. I love it.

Wow, I do have a dozen orgasms after all... at least. I could probably think of others, but there are vibrators... and a husband... and maybe I can think of better things to do right now... 

Girls Next Door Are Freaks

I recently moved a listing to "Fantasy --> Girls Next Door" that wasn't doing well in another category. Man, I should have done that a long time ago! Not only is my listing there usually in the top 10 for the category, but I've been getting fun new callers from it.

I should have known, because in my "Sex" listing and my "BBW" listing, I regularly get requests for girl-next-door fantasies: for me to come over and seduce my neighbor, or to be seduced when he finally admits his long-time crush on me. I think of Girl Next Door and I think natural, relaxed, friendly, pro-sex... all things I consider myself, so I'm a dumbass for not listing there from the start. Did I think I was too old? I dunno. Dumbass.

Anyway, self-flagellation aside, here's the funny thing I wanted to write about: I have not yet gotten a girl-next-door fantasy request on my Girls Next Door listing!

Instead, I've gotten requests for (in order by decreasing similarity to the girl-next-door fantsy):

• With no explanation of our relationship or how we know each other, he's in control and teases me with our clothes on, makes me undress him, then go down on him while I play with myself. (hey, that sounds remarkably similar to the "plot" of my first recorded listing - so far so good)
  
• I'm a nurse where he's recovering from having broken both arms, so he can't jack himself off. I help him and it turns out I have a serious semen fetish, so I beg for him to shoot down my throat, and then don't tell my boss! (mmm giving head to a guy who can't move his hands - yummy)
• I'm fucking him with a strap-on while he's watching a girl with giant boobs get fucked by a guy with a giant cock. Then she decides to join us and blow him until he comes on her huge breasts. (what's not to love about giant boobs and giant cocks and my strap-on?)
• He asks me what I like and what toys I have, and becomes momentarily paralyzed by the sound of me spanking myself. When he regains speech, he guides me down to my knees and uses my mouth. (momentary caller paralysis is awfully gratifying)
• I go to an interview for a research position at a university, where it turns out they're testing a compound that makes semen taste better. They need someone who can orally bring men to climax, and also design and defend the research methodology and run statistical models (having PhD statistician friends comes in handy in surprising ways). The interview includes a demonstration of my blow job technique. I got the job! (so. awesome. In so many ways. Awesome. Awesome. Awesome.)
• I seduce him and his wife in a bar, then take them back to my hotel, where there are three big guys waiting for us. The four of us tie him up, gang up on his wife in the most delicious way (she surprises all of us by liking it), and then using my strap-on on him while one of the guys uses his mouth. (Ummmm, wait, what? How did that start as girl-next-door at all?)
• Laws have just been passed to wipe the intelligence and will from all women. First, an interview before I am reprogrammed shows I'm a smart, angry feminist. Then, the interview after the reprogramming reveals I'm a happy submissive ditzball who can't do math or understand television, but looooooves walking around naked all the time and giving head to every man who requests it. (This was surprisingly fun to play, after I tied up my Inner Feminist and gave her ear plugs)
• He is one of a harem of submissive men who serve me: breakfast in bed, housework, massages, and then I tie him up and tease and flog and clamp him, and force him to watch me get gang-banged by the rest of my harem. (Oh, sure, my roomie and I had a submissive harem for a while after college... oh wait, no, we totally didn't)

Apparently girls next door absolutely cannot get enough cock or cum in their mouth (definitely the right category for me), and y'know, sometimes assemble gangs or harems to serve them sexually. Typical wholesome American girl activities, right?

I shouldn't have been surprised. I know by now that people call my submissive line to have me top them, and my spanking line to get pegged with a strap-on. And yet... I'm surprised! And amused. And finding myself looking forward to adventures with a grin when I get a new caller in GND.


In particular, that university research fantasy could not be any more deliciously adorable, could it? I went with the idea that the compound stimulates every taste bud it touches in a pleasing way, so it was like having an Everlasting Gobstopper of cum. Too over the top?