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?

Time Limits Vs The Six Hour Phone Call

In this post about time limits, I explained that some types of phone sex calls have the unfortunate tendency to accelerate my dizziness to the point where I have to draw a line and impose a time limit, especially calls where I do most of the talking, or where more than one orgasm per person is required.

Last night, I spent almost six hours with one caller, from 6:53 pm to 12:46 am. Because of the time he spent re-charging his account, and one unfortunate disconnect, it worked out to 346 minutes of billable time. Wow.

Now, if you would have asked me yesterday at 6:52, "What is your prediction for your stamina tonight? How long of a call could you take right now?" I would have guessed maybe 90 minutes. I never would have guessed 346. No way.

So how was 346 minutes possible?

A few factors caused the perfect conditions:
* I was well-rested
* He did most of the talking
* We were talking, not fucking


I was well-rested: He was my first call of the evening. I had enough sleep, I hadn't tried to do too many errands, and I had taken things at my own pace all day. It was a lovely day, in fact.

He did most of the talking: The way the conversation goes with this particular caller (nicknamed "The Wanker"): he shares his thoughts about wankers / losers / beta males, the psychology of sex, the insistent physiology of the cock, the emotional complexities of trading sexual energy for money, and the simultaneously pleasurable / tormenting activity of paying an attractive woman to talk with him about sex when he knows he won't actually be getting laid.

The words come tumbling out of his mouth. I almost have to interrupt him sometimes to interject with a thought. For every thing I say, he probably says five things. So I'm listening, paying attention, adding my perspective, and coming up with good questions, but if I need a mental break, I can take one and just let him go on auto-pilot for a minute or two. It's handy.

The difference between "I am almost always talking" and "I am almost always listening" is huge -- I can go way longer if my caller is doing most of the talking.

We were talking, not fucking: For almost the entire call, neither of us were heading toward an orgasm. He had just gotten his first-ever chastity cage over the weekend, and he'd been wearing it for about 52 hours when we started talking. When he hit 72 hours, it would be the longest he had ever gone in his life without masturbating to orgasm.

So the fascinating thing to him about the call was how much more aroused he could get without having to end the call because he had climaxed. So topics that normally would send him over the edge? Keep exploring those, and push hard, because he can't come.

Exploring the psychology of financial domination? Listening to graphic details about me and my lovers? Hearing about how a couple transitions from flirting to fucking? All of those were deliciously stimulating for him. And honestly, I got a huge rush of power and pleasure from hearing his breath catch in that way that usually means he's about to climax, but knowing that this time, I could keep on keeping on and just mess with his mind for all it was worth.

When I realized I was getting tired, finally, I dropped the double-bomb on him: would he be willing to pay me extra to masturbate while explicitly explaining to him what I was doing? He never could have done that without a chastity cage; he would have climaxed in five minutes. And the mind-fuck of asking him to pay extra for me to masturbate, knowing that it was included for other calls, was based on my knowledge of his hesitant interest in financial domination.

I made him come up with the dollar amount (which was a fairly vicious trick on my part, if I do say so myself), and then explained every detail of what I was doing and how it felt. It was a slow build, first with my fingers, then with my vibrator (which I called "the cock" to emphasize that he was not fucking me, but that I love being fucked).

When I came, hard, leaving me scrambled and breathless, he sounded like his brain had exploded instead of his balls. "There's just... there's no mistaking that sound, is there?" he finally managed to say, while I laughed at his obvious mind-melting level of frustrated arousal.

Dear Galiana, 
Remember how once upon a time, you thought you wouldn't be any good at financial domination, or humiliation, or tease and denial? You were wrong on all accounts. And just think: the world is still full of fun new things for you to learn that you love! All it takes is finding the right partner to do them with. Have fun!
Love, Galiana

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.

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...

A Really Great Call

Just before I left for my holiday travel, I had a super-fun call with someone who likes to guide and tease me as I masturbate.

This particular call, the batteries were out on my normal red vibrator, so I used the pink egg vibrator for insertion, and the purple bumpy one for clitoral stimulation.

I always get wet when I masturbate, but this time it just so happened to form an awesome, easily visible ball of girl-goo on my vibe, so I took a picture.

You can see my discarded panties at the foot of the bed, and the rumpled covers that make it clear I had been thrashing. Boy, had I ever...

And yes, absolutely I cleaned it off. Cum of either gender does not go wasted in this household. Yum.

Outside Perspectives Can Help

I have a caller who has been trying to avoid thinking about a certain type of fetish, and he used to watch a lot of videos about this certain thing, so now when he goes to the YouTube home page, he's inundated with reminders. I recommended not logging in when he goes to YouTube, or making a new account, so it wouldn't remind him.

He followed my suggestion, and realized how much energy he'd been wasting fighting off those images, and felt silly for not having thought of the solution on his own. I told him in an email:

I've noticed that "thinking of doing something different than what you've been doing" isn't a skill humans have in abundance.

I just got off the phone with a caller who had vague fantasy-images in his head of being with a dominant woman, having his hands bound, being stripped, being blindfolded, and getting spanked, and maybe even fucked in the ass by her. But he sounded confused and conflicted about why the idea was erotic to him of being hurt or roughed-up. He described himself as very masculine, and almost always in control.

I pointed out to him that he didn't have to be forced to give up control, and asked him to tell me how it felt to imagine agreeing to be controlled. For example, what if he agreed to be controlled by me, and a girlfriend who had agreed to follow my lead? We started with his hands bound behind his back, running our hands over his clothes, to get him used to the feeling of not being able to guide or stop us. Then we started undressing him and adding our mouths to the sensations.

I heard the light bulb go off in his head. Consensual, sensual domination by two women who were taking their time teasing him, binding him, feeding him flesh and fruit and cheese and wine and more flesh, and slowly building to a climax of him deeply taking a stiff silicone dick while his own cock was surrendering to a soft, wet, expertly skilled mouth. Oh. Yes. Please. He'll have lots of exactly that, thanks ever so much, ohgodyespleaseyespleaseyesplease, if his confession of "I'm about one minute away from falling deeply in love with you" was any indication.

Sometimes it helps to talk about the things that are stuck rattling around in your brain. Sometimes, someone else's perspective can rotate you the one degree you need in order to find the thing you were looking for. And sometimes, if I'm very fortunate, I have the chance to be the one doing the rotation. I'm a lucky girl.

Strap-On Feedback

Someone bought my strap-on pictures (information here), and left this feedback:

"The cuddliest dom ever. Peg me anytime."

 Is it wrong that I think that's adorable?

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... 

New PTV: Strap-On Pics

Lately I have been getting more calls from men who want to be penetrated. I have a strap-on-ish contraption called a "Tantus Feeldoe Vibrator" that I keep describing. And I have twenty-five high-quality pictures of me with my Feeldoe, which I've been selfishly keeping hidden. 

Today, finally, I'm happy to report, those pictures are available for sale for $5. You can buy the picture set from this link, or by going to my Flirt store (payment via your NiteFlirt account).

Now that I have hosting figured out, the package is available with two options: you can view the pictures on a web page with a comment for each picture (which I have a lot of fun writing). Or you can download the pictures at 1024 x 682 resolution in a zip file (which is much larger than the samples below). Or you can do both the site and the zip file, it's up to you.

Before we begin the preview pictures, answers to a few common strap-on questions: Yes, I've really used strap-ons in my off-phone sex life. Yes, with both men and women. Yes, I love it. Yes, I can genuinely have an orgasm from it (with the Feeldoe, or with my other strap-on that has inserts and a vibrator pouch). Yes, I've used this Feeldoe in person (although only with a woman so far... I need to change that). 

This is what it looks like. The short end of the "L", the one that looks like an egg, goes inside me. And when it rocks forward, that egg presses against my g-spot. And when it rocks backward, the ridges on the curved part stimulate my clit. It's utterly delicious.

This is what it looks like when I amuse myself with it by treating it as a loaded weapon. There are a few shots like this, and I love them all - femme fatale action heroine with her trusty Mr Blue!

This is the way I think every man who is about to get pegged should be forced to see his penetrator: from below her, with her strap-on prominently displayed, and a look on her face that suggests she doesn't much care if you're going to have fun or not.

My personal fave. My next words are, "On your knees, bitch. And spread 'em."

Fuckatorim Re-Organization

I take phone sex calls in the guest bedroom, which is now known as "The Fuckatorium" in our home.

The bed used to have a wooden headboard / frame that my parents got when they moved back to Texas after his service in the Army, which means it's possible that I was conceived on that bed. But the support boards are a tad too short, so they kept falling out, which caused bizarre lumps and bends in the bed, so spending extended periods of time in it started to hurt my back.

So we pulled the box springs and mattress off the frame and got a memory foam mattress topper, which made the bed infinitely more comfortable - tremendous success. But we put the bed in the corner under the window, which caused glare, and it made it very awkward to fix the mattress topper when it starts sliding off the mattress (which it does daily).

I've been mulling how to reconfigure. Here were my goals:

• no window glare when I'm working on my laptop, from the bed or the desk
• more surface / shelf space within easy reach of the bed for: 
• sex toys
• drinks and snacks
• my laptop
• my bone phone, back up bone phone, iPhone
• iPhone charger so I can lie down and play games and charge the phone all at once
• my desk for when I have to do paperwork, or just want an ergonomic change of position 
• trash and a recycling bin 
• candles and lamps, because sometimes I pretend that I can decorate and make things pretty ... it's a start 

I think I might have figured it all out!

The bed is now away from the wall enough for me to wedge myself into the corner to fix the sliding mattress topper. Such a relief!

The sheets are one color of maroon, the top blanket is another maroon, and the blanket in the middle is green. Feel free to get me an Amazon gift card for hundreds of dollars to buy coordinated linens, but until that happens, I'm going with what we have that feels comfy instead of what looks good.

The grey towel on the bed is because I love fucking and masturbating on towels - they are easier to wash and put away than sheets and blankets, and cheaper to replace if you ruin them. So the towel is in case I leave a wet spot when I masturbate, or need a spot to lay a juicy vibrator after I come. Honestly.

The nifty sewing table on the right somewhat overhangs the bed so I can easily reach more surface space from the bed, either lying or sitting. It's got a bone phone on it. It will be a great spot to quickly put my laptop when I get up (phone rings, I need to get up without dropping my laptop, shut the door, take a big swig of water, and make sure my notes spreadsheet is open on my laptop because if I don't write down the name I'll forget it... so efficiency matters).

The shelves on the left have most of their surface area facing the bed ...

So much shelf space within easy reach! I'm so excited!

Top left to right: candle and lighter, then Hand/foot lotion for when I remember to pamper myself, and probable landing place for ponytail holders and hair clips. Then bone phone and iPhone charger on an extension cord (I took the pics with the iPhone, but normally it will be between the lotion and the bone phone).

Bottom left to right: orange "beginner" size butt plug, purple bumpy rabbit vibrator, teal waterproof vibrator with a pointed curved end, fat red vibrator with a g-spot curve, pink egg on a stick vibe, bamboo spoon for paddling, condoms and gloves for easy cleanup after anal play, adjustable nipple clamps on chains (two sets), medium-strength clothes pins, and lube.


That's just a small part of my toy collection, though. The rest are here, in their new home:

A big plastic bin with well-labeled bags by category. Visible are backup ropes, insertables, cuffs, other clamps and clips, and the first aid kit. Under there are floggers, Vac-U-Loc toys, strap ons, more rope, more vibrators, leashes and collars, and supplies for cleaning and care. I bought almost all of it when I was single in my early 30s. It was kind of a hobby for a while. /blush

Next to the toy bin are a trash can and a recyclables bin. It'll make it so much easier to be a lazy but ecologically responsible snacker. 

Last but not least, the desk and "wall decoration":

I didn't want to put the headboard / footboard in the garage because it's not climate controlled, so now they're decorations! Right? Or clutter? Hard to tell, so I'm going with "decoration". But the desk is close enough to the bed so I can leave my laptop plugged into the same outlet in either location, which I hope will encourage me to shift spots more often.

Hopefully I thought of most things this time, and I won't feel the need to restructure it again.  Also, hopefully I'll get at least an hour notice if anyone needs to stay there to clear out the sex toys.

Thank you for partaking in the November Fuckatorium Tour!

Big Black Cocks and... Dishwashers?

Someone on the phone today asked me where my Big Black Cock was. And the winner for "Potentially Least Sexy Answer Ever"... the dishwasher.

For a while, it lived on the washing machine, but it still had that new-dildo smell, so we decided to round up all the dishwasher-safe toys and wash them all.

Some are Vac-U-Loc attachments (the white ribbed thing near the top is an awesome Vac-U-Loc handle so you can get a better grip on them and keep them a little stiffer).

The blue thing on the right is a Feeldoe, which I enjoyed using tremendously, the few times I've used it. 

The black and silver handle near the top is not a sex toy; it's a steak knife. Obviously we were comfortable that the anti-bacterial toy cleaner (and, for most of these toys, months/years of not being used) had done their job.

This, I am somewhat embarrassed to say, is only a small portion of my overall toy collection, most of which I amassed when I was single in my early 30s. I was experimenting! I had expendable income! It seemed reasonable at the time... but now it seems a tad excessive, honestly. I don't want to throw anything away because a) they don't recycle, and b) what if I want something else just like that some day?

I've thought about laying everything out for pictures by category, with stories about the individual items if I have them, but haven't gotten around to it yet. Would that be interesting or just time-consuming and self-indulgent?

Regardless, at least now they're all clean. And, thankfully, a little less pungent!

Sybian Video & Masturbating Alone

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Big Black Cock and... Washing Machines?

I finally opened my new Big Black Cock dildo, which I bought for the photo shoot last week. I was going to stick it on the wall of the shower and fuck it, but the shoot ran long, so I ran out of steam before I got to the shower at all (note to self: that still sounds like fun - you must do that soon).

Today, I finally used the dildo for the first time, for the monster cock caller I talked about here. It was, as advertised, big. It has a completely different dynamic going in than smaller toys - it requires more force, and I can feel it in completely different places on its way in and out.

Then, after the call, after I washed it, in a spectacular display of un-sexiness, it smells like sex toy - like silicon, or rubber, or whatever the real-skin material is. In fact, the scent is so strong that it has filled my beloved fuckatorium (which some would unimaginatively refer to as a guest bedroom) with sensory memories of baby powder and the desperate need to masturbate (I used to baby powder all my sex toys).

Seems sad to be left there, poor thing

Because it was distracting me, I realized I need to air it out. Sticking it outside won't do, because we have neighbors with two-story homes who clearly see our back yard. I needed to choose a room with a fan that we don't need to use for the rest of the day, like... the laundry room! Perfect! So I turned on the fan in the laundry room and used the suction cup to secure it to the washing machine.

The dildo is bigger than it looks. It's a big washing machine. Like 15 bath towels or something superlative like that.

But the important question here, really, is: how many homes have a Big Black Cock stuck to their washing machine?

I live an extraordinarily strange life.

BBC: Not Just Brit TV

The biggest surprise in the past almost-two-months since I became a phone sex worker is the number of calls I get regarding BBC: Big Black Cocks.

I admit, at first, my Inner Naive had a tiny bit of a response of, "Why are you calling a woman to talk with her about penises? Seriously, it's okay, you can just be gay."

But quickly, the calls piled up. Dozens of calls. Dozens of guys. And to clarify: I don't have BBC on my listing. Or anything about size, or race, at all. My listing is basically just that I'm smart and open-minded and creative. And yet, maybe as high as 10% of my conversations involve Big Black Cocks.

Some of these men tell me a large penis holds some mesmerizing sway for them, as if it is a center of power. I've heard: A man with a huge dick is stronger than me, more deserving than me, better than me. Obviously smart men suddenly seem hypnotized, enchanted, drained of their own power, humiliated just by being in the presence of a monster cock, as if somehow they are immediately less of a man. And these men-under-the-influence who consider themselves straight find themselves with the urge to serve that big dark meaty hunk of flesh.

Some men with BBC fetishes are openly bisexual, and they tend to want glory hole fantasies, or for me to invite over my friends to use them if they're submissive. Some are cuckolds: their wife runs around and fucks hung guys while they serve, fluff, and clean up, and the story seems to take on an extra charge if the hung stud is black.

And then, as I was planning to write this blog entry, I got a call from a black guy who has an average penis size, and... wait for it... he was fascinated by Big White Cocks. I'm stunned I made it through the call without dropping into total shock.

The conclusion I have reached, based on my statistically insignificant sample size, is that the fascination is inherently with "Other" - that which is different from yourself.

Well, my other conclusion is that I need to go buy a big black dildo and take pictures with it, to send to those 10%.

Might As Well Practice

Since I have a lot of calls involving giving head, I decided to get out the Vac-U-Lock dildo that is a bit thicker than my husband or my lover and keep it by the bed in the Fuckatorium (aka guest bedroom) where I work.

As long as I'm sticking something in my mouth, I might as well be working on my deep-throating skills, right?

New To Me: My Dominant Side

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The Banned Picture

Evil picture being evil

I forgot to include the picture that got banned in my last blog post. Here is it.

Really? That's against TOS?

I like it because I have my glasses on, it shows the ridiculous toy collection I've amassed (well, a very small part of it /blush), and the expression can either be submissive or dominant depending on your fantasy. Either I can be about to drop to my knees and hand that to someone to smack me with it, or I'm about to start issuing training commands. It's kind of fill-in-the-blanks. Nice fantasy fodder, I hope.

I also like it because that I'm holding the bamboo spoon that I really smack with over the phone. It's stingy and slappy enough to deliver genuinely shocking sensation - and GREAT sound - but it's dispersed enough for the effects to dissipate quietly after about 30 minutes.

Best. Tool of the Trade. EVER.