Old   E-Mail   Diaryland
New   Profile   Guestbook  
Written on 2001-07-22, at 4:15 p.m.



I've had nothing to eat/drink all day.

Well, my day has consisted of getting up, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, and sitting down at the computer.

And let me tell you, it's been a long 45 minutes.

Anyway, I have one of those "Gap controls your life" work weeks, and I'll be working till about 3am the next few days, so I wanted to crank out an entry before I left.


I met some people online once.

They were a couple.

But, and here's the thing...

They were both heavily into S&M.


Whips and chains.

Puddin' lovin.

I really don't know what puddin' lovin is, but say it like Samuel L. Jackson, and it sounds pretty sexy.

Then again, "intestinal incontenence" sounds pretty sexy when Sammy (that's his pet name) says it.

Not that I've ever HEARD him say "intestinal incontenence", but I'll bet it would sound kinda hot.

I think I was in the middle of a story...

Oh yeah, whips and chains.

So, I had been talking to these guys online for a few months, because something deep down inside of me is veeeeeeeeeery fascinated by that whole microcosm of society. I had so many questions, and wanted to know all about it...Because I wanted to try it?

Not by a long shot.

Plucking my eyebrows is about the envelope of my pain threshold. Having someone violate me anally with a traffic cone (they've done it) probably wouldn't fly too well with ol' Mr. Sphincter.

So after months of talking to these two, the begin to invite me over, just for dinner, nothing kinky. They simply wanted to meet me, and be able to have our discussions in person.

After a while, I finally broke down, and said yes.

After much discussion of my comfort level, and something about a slave who lives as a dog (he eats out of a bowl, and has to scratch the door to use the bathroom), I said I was fine.

So, we set it up.

Naturally, being the drama queen that I am, I informed all my friends about this. Needless to say, they weren't diggin' it.

I assured them everything was fine, and that there was to be no funny business, it was simply a meal.

I arrived at the apartment, which, mind you, is in a very nice area of town, right on a lake, and was feeling a tad nervous, but knowing that would pass, I went up to the door.

I was greeted warmly, and taken inside.

I COULD NOT believe my eyes....

The apartment looked like something that Martha Stewart would try to copyright.

It was so nice, candles, leather furniture, italian marble. Exquisitely decorated.

What? I thought...

Where are the gimp masks, the riding crops, the nipple clamps, the cock rings, the butt plugs, the gags, the chains, the leashes, the collars, the paddles, the hot wax (wait, there was hot wax...candles, right...), the other sundry and assorted instruments of torture?? Not there.


I saw "the door".

Every door in the apartment was open and inviting, showing off the space in it's entirety.

Every door, but one, mind you.

Dinner was served, and it was lovely, however, I ws seated with that door directly in my sight line. It was all I could think about the rest of the night...

What's back there?

WHO'S back there?

I was so preoccupied with it, I just couldn't hold an intelligent conversation. I was all "yeah" and "uh-huh", "oh", "cool", and whatnot.

This preyed on my mind till I could think of nothing else...It really bothered me, I wanted to know what they were hiding...

And then, it happened.

The dog and the cats started getting rambunctious, and knocked over the dogs water.

"That's it, you guys are done" one shouted at them.

He then rounded them up, and headed toward "the door".

Oh my god..I thought..what's he going to do??? It's just water...I'LL clean it up, don't hurt them!!!

I think I was sweating as he opened the door, and I sympathized for the animals impending doom...

The door opens...

And I saw it all...

Pillows, squeaky toys, scratching posts, kitty carriers, rawhide bones, and a feline play-pen.

It was a spare closet that they had converted for the animals room.

Here I am, expecting instruments of torture so devious as to make a grown man weep...

And in reality, it was a little pet "Taj-Mahal".

I never did ask where the instrumentation was, and after that, I didn't want to know. I think that that visit sort of quelled my interest in knowing more, I'll stick to my Revlon tweezers for pain.

As I was on the road home, one of my friends called me, excited to hear about my supposed night of debauchery.

"Did you get whipped??" he asked...

"No, I got beef stroganoff."

Be well...


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

Prodigal Son - 11:03 pm , 11.20.06

So Long, And Thanks For All The Fish - 6:41 pm , 05.29.05

The Beginning of the End - 1:15 pm , 11.22.04

Brand Positioning - 2:13 am , 09.20.04

A Pop Culture Case Study - 9:24 pm , 08.26.04

Tired of waiting for me to update? Want to know when I do?
Then sign up for my NotifyList:



                      Far / Near